Kisses and Curses

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “There are times when having my family so close is a real pain in the ass.” Euann let her go. He brushed his hands over his clothes to straighten his shirt.

  Cora followed him to where the others were opening books. As she started to ask what they were looking for, Angus stepped in front of her to block her way to the table.

  “I’m sorry ya have been introduced to our family under such strange circumstances,” Angus said. “My son tells me ya had no choice when Jewel possessed ya to come here, and I can see for myself that ya can’t leave us until we know what kind of magick she put inside ya.”

  “If there is any way I can help—” she began.

  “Ya have yourself a good rest, my dear.” Angus dismissed her with a slightly condescending pat to her shoulder. “Let us know if there is anything we can do to make your stay with us more comfortable.”

  Angus lifted his hand toward the stairs as if showing her the way to go. She automatically followed the gesture. No one stopped her as she went up. At the top, she glanced down. Euann gave her a small smile from where he leaned against his hand as he sat at the table. A book lay open in front of him.

  Angus caught her attention. He nodded at her once. She took his not-so-subtle hint and went back to Euann’s room.

  The picnic had cleared from the floor as if it had never been. This night could have gone so much differently if Euann’s family had not interrupted. She grabbed the pillows from the floor and tossed them on the bed. It seemed big and empty. Considering the heat in her blood that had yet to be sated, she didn’t exactly want to climb in it alone. She looked at Euann’s portrait but seeing his likeness only made her longing worse.

  “I need to sober up, too.” Oddly, just saying it out loud made her head feel a little clearer.

  Light flashed outside the window and she crossed to it, wondering if the storm was returning. The sky was clear except for a few clouds drifting past the moon. The flash came a second time, but it wasn’t in the sky. It came from the forest. The light lifted like tiny ribbons from beneath the trees before dissolving.

  Raibeart had not been with the family downstairs. Was he casting magick? They had mentioned something about protection spells.

  Her breath fogged the glass as she pressed closer. Cora unlatched the window and lifted it open. The fresh night air hit her face. There was no screen, and when she reached forward, a soft blue light glowed where her hand seemed to pass through a barrier. Was this the protection spell they’d been talking about?

  The smell of burning wood drifted on the breeze, but she saw no fire. The gardens were beautiful from the window’s height, bathed in moonlight. Cora leaned on the sill, watching the distance for the lights. The sound of leaves rustled on the wind, growing louder. She squinted her eyes, waiting in anticipation. She thought she heard faint traces of music. A violin maybe?

  A cold band coiled around her arm and she cried out in surprise as she was jerked forward. Her limbs thrashed as she plummeted toward the ground. Fear gripped her, and she knew she was going to die.

  Inches from impact, she was jerked toward the sky. The cold clamp on her wrist lifted her. It was joined by a second on her ankle. In the twisting darkness it was hard to see what held her. She hung in the air. Her free arm and leg dangled. The force lifted her, higher than the window she’d fallen from, up over the rooftop.

  “No, no, no,” she managed to get out, terrified the thing that held her would drop her. She had never been a fan of heights or carnival rides. This was the worst of both. Tears wet her cheeks and she couldn’t stop shaking. There was nothing to hold on to, only empty space.

  Her body turned as she flailed. Two long, twisted vines stretched toward her from below to hold her wrist and ankle. Their color was hard to see in the shadows, but above the trees in the moonlight she could make out their shapes. They stopped moving, and the only sound she could make out was the panting of her own breath.

  Faster than she went up, the vines pulled her down head first as they retracted into the forest. Cora screamed in terror. Her bound hand twisted, and she tried to grab hold of the plant. Her descent slowed as she neared the treetops, but not enough to keep the branches from slapping her. This time she did hit the ground. The hard earth littered with leaves and twigs jarred her, and she couldn’t remember being more grateful for anything in her life. She dug her fingers into the dirt, clutching it as if it could keep her from being lifted once more.

  Cora’s body shook violently, and she couldn’t stand. Tears dripped to the ground beneath her, spotting the leaves.

  “Nothin’ like a little star gazin’ to shake the magickal defenses right out of a person,” a woman said, her voice blustery and strong. Her words caused a round of laughter. Her accent had notes of the Appalachian mountain region.

  The mountain witches. They were here. They had her.

  Cora’s mouth opened, but only a faint whine made it past her tight throat. She couldn’t look up. The cold sensation had not released her leg, and the vine wrapped her wrist like a thick handcuff. The dirt gave way beneath her fingers, so she began clawing at the vine to be set free.

  “Hello, Malina. Not exactly the MacGregor we wanted to talk to, but you’ll do just fine,” the woman continued. A pair of old work boots appeared before Cora, close to her forehead. “It seems your luck has taken a turn for the worse. Where’s that luck demon husband of yours when you need him?”

  “Not,” Cora whispered.

  “What’s that, my dear? Speak up.”

  It took a lot of effort but Cora managed to push herself so that she sat on her knees. “I’m not Malina.”

  “You think I don’t know a magickal glow when I see one?” The woman didn’t look anything like what Cora thought a witch would look like. She wore denim jeans, a worn button-down shirt, and a faded tan jacket. Her long, straight hair was parted down the center. Gray peppered the black locks. “I might have been born in the last three centuries, but it wasn’t yesterday.”

  “I don’t know what that means.” Cora took a steadying breath, well aware of the feel of the ground beneath her. She searched for something permanent to hold on to.

  Two men sat on the ground, their backs against a cracked pedestal. Their outfits were of the same cut as the woman’s. One wore a wide-brimmed hat, and the other had a ring in his shaggy hair where a hat had been. Neither one of them spoke, and they seemed utterly enthralled with everything the woman said.

  “Why don’t you hang around?” The woman dug into a pouch hanging on her belt. She threw a couple of seeds on the forest floor. She spat on the ground and twisted her hand as if commanding something to grow.

  “No,” Cora cried as the vines lifted her once more. The two new vines grabbed her free limbs, and they drew her up off the ground. She hung like an X in the air. “Please, this isn’t necessary. Let me down.”

  “Don’t bother trying to escape. The vines are enchanted. Not even warlock power can break the mountain magick’s hold.” The woman turned to the two men. “Watch her until I get back.” She dug her hand into her pocket and sprinkled the contents on her head. Dirt dusted over her face. It began to glow, changing her form. Her hips widened, and her legs shortened. Her hair curled up into a bun. When she spoke, even her voice had changed in pitch. “Ol’ Trina can’t be late for work. Lydia’s expecting me to help out tonight. The shop had a large order come in, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint the boss lady. Especially when I have a surprise for her.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What did ya say to Cora, Da?” Euann stared at the stairs. She hadn’t come down. They had been working in the front hall all night, and he would have seen her. He watched and waited, thinking maybe she’d slept in because of the liquor. She was so close, and yet he hadn’t wanted to wake her. The couple of times he tried to check on her, he received a stern look from his ma and a new book would appear in front of him to go through. However as morning faded into the afternoon, he was starting to worry.

  At
one point in the early morning, Malina returning in a sparkly pink tutu. She pirouetted and leapt across the open stairway. It provided a much-needed laugh and made for an entertaining break from poring over old texts looking for clues as to controlling and understanding Jewel’s powers. Euann, of course, managed to record the dance on his phone before Kenneth had taken pity on their sister and broken her out of Jewel’s hold.

  Lydia and Jane had gone back to the Victorian to meet with Trina before going to Jane’s nursery to check on the plants. The rest of them still scoured the books. Iain lounged in a wide chair, his leg thrown over the arm. Rory had made himself a bed of pillows. He lay on his side to read in what looked to be an uncomfortable position but one he had not left for hours. Erik read with his legs kicked up on an ottoman. Kenneth sat at a small table conjured by Margareta. She had not let her returned son out of her sight.

  “Da?” Euann leaned to the side to get his father’s attention. The man sat across from him at the large table filled with books they had looked through and dismissed.

  “To who about what?” Angus asked, distracted. He did not look up from his pages.

  “Cora. She hasn’t come down, and it’s past noon. Ya were the last to talk to her.” Euann closed the book he had been scanning and slid it toward the center pile. “Nothing useful in those translations. I wish ya would let me digitize them. It would make them easier to search.”

  “This is the way it’s been done for centuries. No reason to change it now,” Angus dismissed. “Easier does not necessarily mean better.”

  “Old does not necessarily mean best.” When his father would continue reading, Euann placed his hand on the page to stop him. “And Cora?”

  “I don’t remember what I said. Goodnight, most likely.” Angus lifted his son’s forefinger to pull his hand away from his work. “A lot was happening last night. This is family business. She is an outsider. I understand she needs to be here while the mark of the phoenix fades. It shouldn’t last forever, and then we’ll have to decide what to do with her.”

  “We are not erasing her memories.” Euann returned his hand to the book, splaying his fingers so that his father couldn’t ignore him. “We all agreed that we would not do that anymore.”

  “Except in extreme circumstances.” Angus glanced to where his wife sat with Kenneth. “I would say Kenneth’s return with a powerful child who needs our help qualifies as an extreme circumstance.”

  “Need I remind ya of Helena and Charlotte? We wouldn’t be plucking one conversation. This would be days on the road being controlled by a child, enchanted tea parties and dances.” Euann could not take another woman being harmed because of something they did.

  Helena met with the kind of mad-genius insanity only capable by those who were truly deranged. It had turned her into a wraith. When she was freed from her statue prison, she had almost killed everyone he loved.

  Charlotte had lost her mind, nearly going down a similar path—an insanity filled with visions and voices that could only be contained by a padded room and the miracle of modern pharmaceuticals. Erasing too many memories came with a price—insanity and captivity.

  If they took Cora’s memories, they would also be taking any chance she had at a life. She’d end up in a mental hospital. She wouldn’t remember him. The idea of that caused a sharp pain to shoot through his chest.

  Margareta gasped and grabbed her chest. “What is it? What happened?”

  Euann glanced at his ma and lifted his hand off the book. He pretended not to know what she spoke of as she glanced around the room. The last thing he wanted was to get into a conversation about his feelings before talking to Cora first. His family tended to go embarrassingly overboard when it came to such things, and this felt like a talk he needed to have with Cora when they were alone.

  “Ma, ya should rest,” Erik said. “We will keep looking.”

  “It is like none of our ancestors thought to write about something as important as phoenix magick, but we have an entire volume dedicated to the meticulous boiling of roots for changing hair color.” Iain threw another book on the discard pile. “The only thing I’ve found is that a phoenix’s years are not set in stone, and that was more of an offhanded reference example than an actual stating of facts.”

  “Before salons, ridding hair of gray was great magick,” Margareta answered. “It kept some of us with food through some very harsh winters. Never underestimate a noblewoman’s vanity.”

  “Hey, Ma,” Iain drawled, “aren’t ya a noblewoman?”

  “I’m not too old to lock ya in a dungeon,” Margareta scolded, though they knew she was teasing. She went to the books they’d discarded and pressed her hand on them. “I’ll reshelf these.” As she pushed, they disappeared, and her hand lowered to the table top. “Keep reading. I think it’s time I used another tactic.”

  “My love, no,” Angus denied. “Last time it nearly killed ya. Do not look to the future. We’ll figure this out.”

  “Nearly,” Margareta repeated. “How many times could we use that word when talking about our fates? How many times in our years have ya been nearly killed, nearly maimed, nearly lost? We always find a way. What matters is that we protect our family.”

  “I agree with Da,” Erik said. “There is no reason to divine the future.”

  “Saving me almost killed ya,” Iain said.

  “Nearly,” Margareta mumbled. “Almost.”

  Kenneth looked as if he wanted to ask, but instead averted his eyes. He had missed much in his absence.

  “I’m going to check on Cora,” Euann said. “It’s not her fault she was caught up in this. She’s a good person, and she deserves better than to be made to feel unwelcome.”

  “Does she know?” Iain smiled.

  “Know what?” questioned Rory.

  Erik chuckled. “That Euann is lovesick over her.”

  “I’m not lovesick,” Euann protested.

  “Oh, that,” Rory muttered. Everyone ignored him.

  “Euann? Why would ya keep such happy news from us?” Margareta rushed forward and grabbed both his hands to squeeze them tightly. “Five of my children have found their spouses, and the sixth is a father. This is an incredible time indeed.”

  “She’s not my wife,” Euann disagreed.

  “Not yet,” Margareta conceded. “But soon, of course. I have the perfect weddings designed. Just ask Malina. I think I remember her telling me one would be perfect for ya.”

  That was one of the scariest statements Euann had ever heard. He’d done many things in his long life to prank his sister. Anything Malina said he wanted in a wedding would be just the opposite.

  “Cora has been caught in this family’s drama,” Euann said. “I feel bad for her.”

  “Told ya,” Erik said, not losing his grin. “Completely lovesick.”

  “Indeed.” Angus nodded. “This does change things. I suppose there will be no reason to erase the memory of a new daughter.”

  “Don’t forget to tell her she’s your match,” Iain said. “Women like to be in on the secret.”

  “I guess there is someone out there for everyone,” Erik added.

  Euann frowned at all of them and said the only thing he could think of. “Shut up.”

  Laughter met his pouty demand.

  Euann took the stairs two at a time to get away from them. He let their voices fade from his conscious thoughts as he neared his bedroom door. He placed his hand on the wood, feeling beyond the barrier where he couldn’t see. His fox senses tried to hear her, but they were unreliable, and he didn’t want to push too hard in case his face became locked in a partial shift again.

  Euann knocked lightly on the door. “Cora, may I come in?”

  Silence greeted him.

  “Cora, I don’t know what my da said to ya, but…” His words trailed off. His senses tingled. Something was not right. “Cora?”

  Euann used magick to turn the doorknob as he pushed the door open.

  A cool breeze came throu
gh an open window. That should not have been possible. There was a protection spell around the mansion as well as a temperature control. No matter the weather outside, indoors remained perfect. How had Cora managed to break both?

  “Cora?” He glanced through the open bathroom door on his way to the window. She wasn’t in the room.

  Had she escaped? Climbed out of the window? But why take such a dangerous route? It wasn’t like she was their prisoner.

  Or did she feel like a captive? They had told her she needed to stay because of the residual magick. No one had asked her what she wanted. They didn’t think to. They only did what they believed had to be done. That tended to be one of his family’s great faults. They sometimes forgot to ask the non-family member if they were okay with the course of action. When a MacGregor knew what needed to be done, they just did it.

  Euann rushed to the window and peered down over the side. There was no evidence of someone having climbed down the vines that covered the stone of the mansion. The plant life looked undisturbed. If she hadn’t climbed down where did she go? She couldn’t have disappeared. Had she snuck out of the room without him noticing? That made no sense. He knew she hadn’t left because he had watched the door all night.

  “Cora?” he whispered, leaning out farther. He tried to find evidence of where she might’ve gone. His eyes scanned the forest below. The trees revealed nothing. Louder, he yelled, “Cora! Cora!”

  The sound of footsteps ran up the stairs as the others came to join him. His da burst into the room. “What is it, lad? Why are ya yelling?”

  “She’s gone.” Euann gripped the windowsill. His mind raced as he tried to explain. “She came in here last night. The window is open, and she is gone.”

  “There must be an explanation.” Iain pushed Euann aside to look for himself. “She couldn’t have gone out that way. The plant life is untouched. It doesn’t look as if anybody has scaled the wall.”

  Rory pulled up the bedding and checked under the bed. “Maybe she’s hiding?”