Cursed Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  Mom is still watching me, so I force a smile. “We got a little burned out on studying, so we decided to call it quits early instead of goofing off for another hour. I thought you’d like having me home for dinner.”

  She finally stops searching my face. “Of course I do. You’re just in time. It’s almost done.”

  I nod and brush past her. I poke my head into the dining room, but the table is already set. I double back to the kitchen and get another place setting for myself. On my way back, Jodi enters the room.

  “Hey, stranger. You’re in luck: It’s taco night.” She hitches her thumb toward the kitchen. “Your dad made enough to feed the whole neighborhood. It’s too bad you didn’t invite Bria over.”

  My stomach clenches and I watch her closely. Does Jodi suspect something? Is she saying that because she knows I wasn’t with Bria? No, that can’t be. Until half an hour ago, even I didn’t know the big secret I’ve been keeping from everyone. If the Influence has been that good at keeping the truth from me, I have to believe it’s been able to keep it from everyone else.

  At least, I hope that’s the case.

  I’m spared having to think of a response when Mom and Dad enter the room, carrying bowls filled with various taco toppings. Jodi and I head to the kitchen for more dishes.

  I’m glad when Dad doesn’t express surprise at my presence. I’m not interested in lying anymore today. As we began filling our plates, Jodi strikes up small talk, asking Mom and Dad about their days at work. I keep my head down, mechanically chewing bite after bite of food that I don’t taste.

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I take it out. Keeping it under the table, I read the text from Owen. You’re at home, right? Is that where you want to meet?

  “How are the applications going?” Dad’s voice is louder than strictly necessary, and I get the feeling he asked the question once already.

  I glance up. “Good.”

  Once my attention is back on my phone, Dad continues, “Have you submitted any yet? Do you need checks for application fees?”

  I tap out a response quickly. Yes, my place. “Um, no.” I’m sure Dad wants more details, but I really don’t have anything further to say on the topic.

  Dad rests his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers. “Krissa,” he says in a tone I remember well from childhood. He always used this voice when I’d been caught doing something wrong—sneaking candy after I’d been told no or throwing a toy when I knew it wasn’t allowed. “We’re talking about your future here, and you’re, what? Texting?”

  My phone vibrates again and I can’t fight the urge to check Owen’s response. I’m on my way.

  He clears his throat. “I understand you have a lot going on right now, but that’s no excuse to ignore me.”

  The skin on the back of my neck prickles. What part of my complete disinterest in this topic does he not understand? I’ve shown zero engagement in any of his college talk so far, yet he keeps bringing it up. Right now, the last thing on my mind is higher education. I need Owen, and that’s all.

  “You understand what’s going on with me? You have no idea,” I growl, my voice low. Dad’s eyes flash with surprise, but I don’t give him the opportunity to respond. “You keep talking about college, my future. What don’t you realize is, right now, that future doesn’t exist for me.”

  Dad shakes his head in the way adults do when they think a kid is being unreasonable because they don’t know the ways of the world. “I know you think that, but you can’t live your life in fear. You have to believe we’re going to get through this.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What’s this talk about we? He doesn’t have this darkness inside him. If Jodi and Anya can’t figure out a way to get it out of me, his life won’t change. He and Mom will still renew their vows; they’ll go on a honeymoon. They’re young enough that they could even have a new daughter to replace the one who got taken by the darkness. Tendrils of red curl in my periphery. “Since you came back, you’ve been pretending like you know everything—but guess what? You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  Jodi shifts and stretches a hand toward my dad. “Ben, maybe we ought to let the subject drop for now. College is still at least a year away. There’s plenty of time to make these decisions.”

  Dad bangs a hand on the tabletop. “I don’t need you taking her side, Jodi.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m not taking sides. I just think everyone needs to step back and calm down.”

  Dad bangs his hand again. “Calm? I am calm!”

  Mom reaches over and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Honey…”

  He shakes off her hand. Heat burns in my belly. The red swirls nearer to the center of my vision. Who does he think he is? He left with little explanation five years ago, and when he returned, he expected to seamlessly step back into the role of father. But he hasn’t earned it. He gave it up when he left, and it’s not his to take back now. “This is all your fault—everything. You say you knew what you were doing when you left, but you never told us. You claim you left to defeat Seth, but you didn’t, did you? That was me. I defeated him. And when Crystal needed to be saved, that was me, too. You have done nothing to protect me. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you—especially not when you’re trying to pretend like everything’s fine.” A crackle of electricity shoots through my arms and down into my fingertips. Heat surges in my body as the Influence rises up. I try to push it back, but it’s so strong. Stronger even than it was with Brody earlier today. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone and let me handle things my own way.”

  Dad stares at me with wide eyes. His hands press into the armrests of his chair, and his fingers curl around the edges like he’s afraid he’ll be swept away in the wave of my anger. “I’m sorry, honey. You’re right. I won’t talk about college anymore. Why don’t you sit down?”

  I look down. When did I stand up? Dad’s right—I should sit. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t make my body comply. The red darkens, blotting out much of my vision. I can only see what’s directly in front of me now.

  “Just sit down, honey,” he says quietly.

  How dare he try to order me around? He keeps talking, repeating things like “calm down,” “relax,” and “sit down,” but the sounds blend together into white noise. He can’t tell me what to do. He doesn’t know better than me. He claims he left me to keep me safe, but all he did was leave me vulnerable. Why didn’t he ever tell me about Seth? If he’d done that, I would have known better than to go back in time to get the crystal—I never would’ve released him in the first place. Everything would be different if he’d simply told me the truth. Everything that’s gone wrong is his fault.

  He stands and stretches his hand out to me, but as soon as he’s on his feet, he’s being pressed backward into the wall. My hand rises in front of me and my fingers curl like claws. At the same moment, Dad grabs at his throat. He wheezes and gasps. But he can’t draw breath.

  Shrill, high voices fill my ears. Mom and Jodi are crying out. They want me to stop. But I can’t.

  I don’t want to.

  Dad’s face is red and his eyes bulge. My vision is almost completely blocked out now, but before the Influence takes over completely, someone grips me by the shoulders and spins me around. Rage rises within me and I prepare to strike out at whoever is daring to interrupt me, but then I catch a glimpse of clear blue eyes. Owen’s gaze locks on me and in a flash, I remember who I am. The burning heat in my body turns itself down to a gentle simmer as Owen wraps me in his arms and pulls me toward the ground.

  “Come back to me, Krissa. Come back to me,” he murmurs in my ear as we settle on the floor. He repeats the words over and over, his voice filling my ears, clearing my head.

  By degrees, the crackling in my veins dies down and the Influence’s hold on me ebbs. I clutch Owen for dear life. What would have happened if he hadn’t shown up? I’ve never felt the Influence so strong. Woul
d this have been the time it took over for good? Once my conscious mind was completely overwhelmed, would it have killed my father?

  “Dad.” I breathe his name like a prayer. I struggle to get to my feet, only managing with Owen’s help.

  My father sits slumped in the dining room chair. My mom crouches in front of him, her fingers feathering touches over his neck as she examines his face.

  Tears sting my eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I never meant to hurt you, Dad.”

  He glances up, but only for a moment, like he can’t bear to look at me. I’m sure he’d like to tell me he accepts my apology, that it’s okay, but we both know it’s not.

  I turn to Owen and he wraps his arms around my waist. “What did I do?”

  He shakes his head resolutely. “It wasn’t you.”

  I know that’s not the truth. “I choked my own dad, Owen. He could’ve died and it would’ve been my fault. We have to do something.”

  “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’ll figure out a way to control it.”

  A humorless laugh escapes my lips. “Control. I think I lost the ability to control it a while ago. I just didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to admit it, and I almost killed my father because of that.” I blink, and tears drip down my cheeks. “We have to get the Influence out.” I tear my gaze from Owen’s face and scan the room until my eyes land on Jodi. “You have to kill me.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fox

  I’m still not sure exactly what happened with Krissa. She was fine when I left the room for snacks. I was only gone two minutes, and she said she was fine, but clearly there was more going on than she let on.

  She’s obviously against the idea of coming clean about our relationship, but I can’t wrap my head around why. I get that she doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but sometimes it’s inevitable.

  I take a bite of cold pizza before setting the slice back down in the box and getting back to picking up around the house. Dad will be home tomorrow, and I’m really not interested in sitting through another lecture about what a slob I am. At least when Griffin was living here, he could shoulder some of the blame. Although, if I’m honest, the house has been messier these last several months since the circle stopped meeting regularly. We always met in the basement, but I still made sure the upstairs didn’t get too out of hand. Now I only clean up when I know Dad or Dana is coming over. Krissa usually doesn’t spend enough time in the main part of the house to mind whether or not things are organized.

  I’m sorting through a stack of mail when the doorknob twists. I freeze, my mind spinning. Did I get the date wrong? Is Dad due home today? Or is it Krissa, returning to explain about her freak earlier?

  Envelopes still in hand, I step out of the dining room and into the living room as the front door swings open. Griffin crosses the threshold and offers a half smile when he sees me.

  “Hey,” I say, confused. I can count on one hand how many times he’s been back here since he moved out, and now he’s dropping by a second time in just over a week? “Is it laundry day again already?”

  Griffin closes the door behind him. “Can’t a guy stop by to see his little brother?”

  I snort. I know him well enough to be certain he has a reason for the visit, and that it has nothing to do with being sentimental.

  “Sorry to interrupt your Martha Stewart moment,” he says, nodding toward the paper in my hand. He steps into the dining room and swipes a piece of pizza out of the open box. “Dad coming home soon?”

  I lay the mail down and begin separating it into two piles—one for bills and the other for junk. “Yeah, he is. But I doubt that’s why you’re here.” Taking advantage of his mouthful of food, I add, “You should stop by when he’s home. Despite what you think, he’d like to see you.” I’ve done my best to stay out of my brother’s relationship with our dad, but that doesn’t mean I like things the way they are. When I was growing up, I was always jealous of how close the two of them were. Griffin loved going out to the garage and learning about how engines worked. I preferred staying inside and drawing in my sketchbook. Dad said I inherited the itch to sketch from my mom. He claimed I took after her, while Griffin was more like him. But after the elder council spell revealed to Dad that Griffin and I both possessed magic like our mom, it was like it was the only thing he could see anymore. Despite the fact that he only spends a few days home each month, he banned us from using magic in the house. Griffin couldn’t live with it, so he moved out.

  Griffin waves away my suggestion before shoving the rest of his slice into his mouth and picking up a couple of empty Chinese food cartons. He stuffs them into a stray grocery bag he finds under the table. “So, saw your girlfriend today.”

  The back of my neck prickles. Is this why he stopped by? I say nothing, waiting to see where he’s going.

  “She brought her aunt’s car in for an oil change.” He picks up a few receipts and glances at them before adding them to the bag. “I was actually on my way out, but she saw me and struck up a conversation. So I asked her how Italian night went.”

  I freeze. I let him assume I was making dinner for Dana the other night—how could I not? I wasn’t prepared to get caught in a lie.

  “It was funny,” he continues. “She had no idea what I was talking about.”

  My brain scrambles for an explanation. “I burned the food,” I say quickly. “I was too embarrassed to tell her about how epically I failed, so I ordered something before she got here.”

  Griffin narrows his eyes, studying me shrewdly. “You’re on dangerous ground, little brother. If you don’t want to be with Dana, cut her loose. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to.”

  My heart thuds in my chest. He knows. But how much does he know? If he had an inkling Krissa was the other girl in the equation, we’d be having a very different conversation right now. The two of them never hit it off in all the time I was dating her, but something changed this winter and they became friends. Griffin may be a dick, but he’s loyal, and when he decides to count someone as a friend, it’s for life.

  I feel his eyes on me. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I keep my focus on the task of sorting mail, but my movements are mechanical. I’m not sure I’m putting things in the right spots anymore.

  “Maybe. For your sake—and Dana’s—I hope I don’t.” He picks up another slice of pizza and pivots on his heel. “Let me know when you find out how long Dad’s staying in town. Maybe I’ll drop by.”

  As soon as the front door closes behind him, I sink into a dining room chair and inhale deeply. Will Griffin keep digging until he knows the truth? Will he tell Dana what he suspects? Or is Dana already suspicious after his question?

  This is it—the final straw. I don’t care if Krissa doesn’t like it. We have to come clean, because if we don’t, the truth will find its way out anyway, and the people she’s hoping to protect will be hurt worse than she can imagine. The next time I can get her alone, I’ll make her see that.

  Chapter Twenty

  Krissa

  I lie on my bed, staring out the windows on my right. The sky is bright blue—exactly the shade of Owen’s eyes. I imagine the color seeping into me and filling up all the spaces in my body. If I can hold on to the color—the feeling—maybe everything will turn out all right.

  Owen tightens his arm around my abdomen. There’s been a moratorium on the no-boys-in-the-bedroom rule, and he and I have spent most of the day snuggled beside each other just like this. Jodi lifted the ban after my parents left for work. She told me she figured she didn’t need to worry about what the two of us might get up to unsupervised since she and Anya are downstairs. Besides, with what’s going to happen today, my thoughts couldn’t be further from romance.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he murmurs, his lips close to my ear.

  I squeeze his hands. “No matter how many times you ask me, the answer’s going to be yes.”

  He takes in a breath. “I don’t like this
at all. Are you sure there’s no other way?”

  It’s not the first time he’s asked this question, either. I roll over to face him and settle a hand on his cheek. “I know it’s dangerous, but it’s the only way. I can’t risk hurting someone again. You were there—you saw it. I could’ve killed my dad last night. If this spell will finally get the Influence out of me, it’ll be worth it.”

  “And what if it doesn’t? What if something goes wrong?” He covers my hand with his. “I can’t lose you.”

  My eyes sting, and I close them against the tears threatening to build. I can’t say the same fear hasn’t plagued me since I suggested this last night. But I can’t risk losing control again. I outright refused to go to school today, terrified something might set me off and Owen wouldn’t be around to keep the Influence from taking over completely.

  Keeping my eyes shut, I lean forward until my lips find Owen’s. I don’t want to lose him, either. “I love you,” I murmur against his mouth. I hadn’t wanted to say it before, afraid for so many reasons it wasn’t the right time—but now I’m afraid I won’t have the chance again. Before I go through with this spell, I need him to know.

  He pulls away and my heart clenches. Panic floods me. I shouldn’t have said it. Telling him was selfish. Now things are going to be awkward.

  When he doesn’t speak, I open my eyes, ready to apologize, but the intensity of his gaze stills my tongue.

  “I love you, too.”

  And then we’re kissing again, although I’m not sure which of us initiated. My leg wraps around his and he pulls me tight against him. My cheeks are damp, and I’m not sure whether I’m crying or he is. Maybe we both are.