Of Curses and Charms

by Nyx Halliwell

  Winter comes to my rescue. “We came by to invite you to Summer’s birthday party.”

  “Yes,” Autumn jumps in, “Sunday at five o’clock. We’re doing a fairy theme. We were hoping you might come early and help us set up.”

  I love my sisters. They understand the tough position I’m in right now. Do I have a responsibility to tell someone about their impending death, even though I don’t know specific details such as the date or exactly what happens to them? Or is warning a person just messing with fire? If it’s fate to be done with this life and move onto the next stage and I create bad karma, am I creating it for myself trying to stop that from happening?

  Times like this, I want to give fate the middle finger. Unfortunately, I can’t protect Hopper twenty-four hours a day, even with my charms. Warning him could bring undue stress and the exact thing I don’t want to happen.

  When I was eight, I tried to warn a friend about an accident I saw happen to her. We were just kids and I didn’t realize that everyone didn’t have my gift. I was at her house playing and we took turns riding her bike.

  The Touch showed her on her bike in a future time wearing her favorite yellow shirt. She was riding on the sidewalk, but a truck left the road and struck her.

  You can imagine her reaction when I told her what I’d seen. She ran into her house bawling, then her mother came out a minute later to yell at me. It wasn’t long after that my mom picked me up and the woman yelled at her as well.

  But that experience struck a chord, and rather than testing fate, her parents put the girl’s bike in the garage. My friend was not allowed to ride it, then two weeks later, her cousin was visiting, got bored and found it in the garage. She pulled it out and went for a ride.

  At lunch, she’d spilled spaghetti on her shirt and my friend’s mother had made her change, so she was wearing the yellow shirt when she hopped on the bike and rode it down to the end of the block. On her way back, she was struck by a truck, her body thrown, receiving multiple broken bones.

  Even though I told them, I couldn’t stop what happened. It taught me a valuable lesson—trying to prevent certain accidents or situations was in fact, destiny creating the right situation for the thing I was trying to prevent. Sometimes, there is no escaping fate, no matter how hard we try. Just because you can see the future doesn’t mean you can save the ones you love.

  Harm none. Predicting the future could actually do harm, right?

  Hopper touches my face, a frown creasing his forehead. The tone of his voice doesn’t match the words when he says, “Yeah, I’d be happy to come early and help. Sounds awesome. Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, you could’ve just called.”

  I laugh, simply to relieve the pressure inside my chest and pat him gently on the arm. “We had to make a run this way anyhow,” I stumble over my words, “and I was hoping you could hang out at the shop today. Watch the kittens for me… Oh, and I need to take more water to Mrs. Sorensen.”

  I’m trying to find any reason to keep him close so I can protect him, regardless of what the vision has shown me. “If you can spend another day with me, I could use the help.”

  Consternation flitters over his face as he looks around. He’s already been closed the last two days for the most part, thanks to me. Doing so again is not good for business. “I can take an hour or so, then bring the kittens here.”

  There’s not a lot I can do to convince him otherwise. The biggest thing is to get him away from here for now. If Fontaine comes by and sees the shop closed, maybe he won’t return. Or I can figure out another way to keep Hopper busy and out of the dark wizard’s grasp.

  “Perfect,” I say even though it’s not. “Do you want to come with us right now?”

  Hopper gives me another questioning look, but he seems to pick up on my anxiety and runs his hands up and down my arms in a reassuring gesture. “Give me five minutes.”

  He turns and goes into his kitchen, then I hear him jog up the stairs. I look at my sisters and they embrace me. They look as relieved as I am we found him alive and he’s leaving with us.

  “I’m not sure how to keep him away from this place,” I murmur.

  “Don’t worry,” Autumn says. “We’ll figure something out.”

  Winter glances around, her eyes landing on certain pieces of furniture. I’m sure the spirits are talking to her because she offers a soft, “not now,” before she turns to me. “We’ll keep him busy all day and figure something out for later.”

  Hopper returns and takes a sheet of paper from behind the counter, using a marker to write a message on it. Be back this afternoon, it says. Call and leave a message if you need something. He adds his cell number.

  He tapes it to the window on the front door. “Let me grab some coffee. I probably should take my truck, too, in order to haul the water.”

  If he doesn’t have his vehicle, he’s more likely to rely on us for a ride. “Oh no, we’ll take the shop van,” I tell him. “No sense burning all your gas.”

  Another odd look, then he shrugs, disappearing once more. The three of us are about to go out to Winter’s car when I feel that prickling sensation hit. Just as Autumn opens the door, I yell, “No!”

  But it’s too late.

  Standing in front of us is Kaan Fontaine.

  12

  Autumn slams the door and locks it.

  Winter murmurs a quick spell, turning herself invisible. “Meet me out back,” her disembodied voice says.

  I sense her moving away, and she sends a picture to my mind’s eye, showing her driving the car there and picking us up.

  I throw a charm on it and the windows, blocking Fontaine’s view. Autumn grabs my hand and we run to the kitchen. Hopper glances at us, startled as he’s putting the lid on his travel mug.

  “Gotta go.” I grab his arm and jerk him behind us.

  I hear the rumble of the VW’s motor starting. Autumn mumbles a spell under her breath as we get to the back door, sending extra protection over all of us.

  The Phoenix flares hot again, and I tap into it, asking it to add its protection to ours and to aid Winter’s speed.

  We’re outside and Hopper is locking up when the VW swings into view.

  “Hurry,” I say to him and he gives me another of those what is wrong with you looks before finishing with his keys. Before he can pocket them, I force him down the back stairs to the car.

  “What’s the hurry?” he asks.

  I practically throw him into the back seat before diving in myself.

  Winter does a quick U-turn in the small rear lot, and we peel off toward the front. Just as we’re about to clear the shop, ten yards from the highway, Kaan steps into our path.

  We all gasp, and Hopper asks “Hey, isn’t that the guy from yesterday?”

  “Do not stop,” I command Winter.

  She yanks the wheel right to avoid the dark wizard, but it’s as if he knows she’s going to do that, and he suddenly appears in front of us a second time.

  Magick.

  Winter jerks left. Fontaine follows, appearing yet again.

  “Run him down,” I say between gritted teeth.

  “It’s a projection,” Autumn states. She’s a master at sending her astral self to other places, so she knows. “It’s not really him.”

  “Alrighty then,” Winter says. She angles the car toward the highway once more, nearly giving me whiplash with the acceleration.

  I pray she’s right, even though part of me doesn’t care if it’s truly him, or his astral self.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Hopper chimes in, rearing back in the seat.

  Everyone braces as we mow down the last couple feet, waiting for impact. I keep one hand on Hopper, the other on the door handle, and anticipate the hit I know is coming.

  We pass right through him. Only when I hear Winter cackle loudly and the car reaches the highway do I relax my grip.

  A glance behind us shows Kaan still at the shop. His dark eyes follow the car as we head sout
h to Conjure. He doesn’t move, simply stands there watching.

  I slouch down, placing a hand over my heart. It’s racing so hard, I feel like I’m lightheaded.

  “Do I want to know what just happened?” Hopper asks.

  “No,” all three of us answer at the same time.

  He’s quiet a moment, his big body folded like an accordion in the small back seat. Eventually, curiosity gets the best of him. “That guy was right in front of the car. Several times. How did he move that fast? How did we not hit him?”

  I glance over and meet his eyes. I see realization kicking in.

  “Ohhh, got it. Black magick dude.” He runs a hand over his face and into his hair. “That’s why you showed up, isn’t it? You knew he was coming. He’s figured out who I am.”

  I don’t see any point in going into details. “He means you harm, I’m sure of it. You need to stick with us. We can keep you safe.”

  Hopper glances out his window, digesting this information. “You can’t protect me for the rest of my life, Summer. Whatever the guy wants, I’ll have to handle him.”

  Winter meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, her mouth a thin line. I’m not sure if she thinks I should tell Hopper the truth or not. For now, I’m relieved he’s here and alive. We’ll figure out what to tell him once we’re at Conjure.

  We fly down the highway in silence. I keep checking to make sure Fontaine hasn’t followed. I see no sign of him, but I’m paranoid enough that it’ll be hard not to keep looking over my shoulder for a while.

  Right before we reach the turn off for our shop, Hopper grabs my hand. I slide my eyes from the road to look at him and see the strength in his face. The determination. His attention drops to my phoenix necklace. “The eyes are glowing,” he says.

  Looking down, I raise the pendant, seeing what he sees. They are indeed bright, and I feel my father’s energy growing stronger.

  When we reach our property, we find Don “Big Eagle” Whitethorne waiting for us.

  13

  My father is a mix of Creek and Irish, but his Native American features are prominent. His long gray hair is braided down his back, his skin a ruddy color. He wears a short sleeve button down shirt with a black vest embroidered with beads in a flying eagle pattern over it. His jeans are adorned with a silver eagle belt buckle. His leather boots are black and worn but clean.

  He embraces each of his daughters, holding onto me a couple extra seconds. “Thank you for the gift,” I tell him. “It’s beautiful.”

  He glances at Hopper before returning his attention to me. “Do not take it off. You need it.”

  I introduce Hopper to him, forgetting after all the excitement that they already know each other.

  “Yes, we’ve met.” Dad extends a hand to Hopper and they shake. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

  Hopper nods. “My pleasure, although to be honest, I think she’s protected me more than I have her.”

  “We have a situation,” Winter tells Dad and he doesn’t seem surprised. “Could Autumn and I speak to you in private?”

  Spring is out front with the kittens. As Winter and Autumn take Dad to my treatment room, I rub my forehead and try not to collapse into a chair. I’m not all that worried about Fontaine coming here. If he knows who we are and what we do, he’ll stay away from us. But I must decide how far I’m willing to go to figure out what happened to his wife.

  “Can I get you some breakfast?” I ask Hopper, as if it’s just another day in the neighborhood. He likes Spring’s scones, so I expect him to ask for one of those.

  Instead, he shakes his head. “Are you going to explain what’s going on?”

  I bite the inside of my bottom lip. “Is it okay if I don’t?”

  A touch of exasperation enters his expression as he takes a seat. “I can handle it, Summer.”

  The question is, can I? “I’ll be right back.”

  I jump up and dash to get a scone. Spring finishes with a customer and slides behind the counter. Consternation is written all over her face. “What happened?” she asks under her breath.

  The two customers in the shop pay no attention to us, engrossed in a conversation about tarot cards as they suggest different decks to each other from our collection. I give Spring a quick rundown and watch as her eyes grow wide with shock.

  “Holy goddess, what are you going to do?”

  “I have to tell Hopper at least part of the truth about my visions, I think. The biggest problem is keeping him safe. I can’t let him go back to the antique store.”

  She picks up a pen and sticks it in the cup holder next to the cash register. “Have you put a protection charm on him?”

  I fiddle with a clean plate, placing a couple scones on it. “Yes, but it might not be strong enough. Autumn had Sirius bring me Mom’s book of spells,”—Sirius is the keeper of this very magickal, very important family heirloom—“but it doesn’t cover black magick, even though she was…” I stop myself. My sisters don’t know that I saw her toying with it in the mirror. I strongly suspect it contributed to her death.

  Spring straightens, giving me a curious stare and I force my mind to go blank so she can’t read it. She gathers the rest of the baked goods under the glass cover, seemingly ignorant about any wrongdoing Mom might’ve engaged in. “Did you charm Hopper’s store? I mean did this Fontaine fellow actually get inside?”

  Thank the goddess she dropped the black magick discussion. “Come to think of it, no. We never gave him the chance, but I suppose he could have projected inside if he wanted to. He was certainly adept at it.”

  “Maybe your charm was working.”

  She could be right. “So, I need to cast a spell over the entire land Hopper owns.”

  Spring nods, looking speculative. “It certainly couldn’t hurt, and I can help you. With my earth magick, we can make sure he can’t step foot anywhere close to the antique store.”

  “Then all I have to do is keep him safe every time he leaves his land. Piece of cake, right?” I tell her sarcastically.

  My tone brings a smile to her face. “We’ll figure it out,” she says, putting a hand on my arm. I groan at how many times I’ve heard that today

  “We have to,” I agree. “This is my fault, Spring. I brought this on him.”

  She squeezes my arm. There’s really nothing she can say, knowing in truth I am the one who put Hopper in Fontaine’s sights.

  When I return to the kitchen, Hopper is staring at his travel mug. His mind seems a thousand miles away and he barely acknowledges when I slide a scone in front of him. “Thanks.”

  I resume my seat across from him. “I don’t like to talk about my gifts. Not to anyone but my sisters and my father.”

  He glances up, startled at my conversation, but then he nods and looks down again. “I get that, but you already told me about the one. Obviously, you weren’t touching me this morning when you saw something, and I’m assuming it has to do with Fontaine showing up at my place.”

  “I possess claircognizance.”

  His bushy eyebrows rise. “You can see the future?”

  “Yes and no,” I admit. “Each of my sisters has varying degrees of the Sight—that’s what we call it. In my case, I have no control over what I see or when. Sometimes it works in conjunction with the Touch, or as you saw with Mariel’s jewelry, I receive a vision of the past. I don’t always know which, but this morning, I had one that seemed to involve Kaan coming into your shop and meaning you harm.”

  His pause is weighted. “It must have been pretty serious from the way you barged in screaming at the top of your lungs.”

  “I’m so sorry about invading your privacy. I was more concerned about your health.”

  “I appreciate that, I think.” He fidgets with his travel mug. “And now, you don’t want me to go back because you think he’ll be waiting for me, or show up again?”

  “I actually do need help with the water, and well… Oh, Hopper, this is all my fault! If I hadn’t gone to Fo
ntaine’s and been nosey, none of this would be happening.”

  “It was my idea. You didn’t know the guy was into black magick.”

  “Maybe it’d be better if I dropped the whole thing regarding Mariel. I feel like I’m letting her down, but I can’t risk your…” I stop myself before I say life. “My main concern right now is keeping you safe.”

  “Well, unless you’re going to move in with me, I’m not sure how you can watch me twenty-four-seven. Wouldn’t it be better to teach me how to defend myself against this jerk? Is there a spell or something I can learn?”

  He seems completely at ease talking about all this, while I’m freaking out. How ironic. “He has significant magickal powers, Hopper.” And you’re not a witch.

  He leans forward, pinning me with his beautiful eyes. “What you’re saying is I don’t stand a chance against him.”

  “I know you have skills, but fists and weapons won’t work to overpower him.”

  He sets his jaw, frustrated. With a sigh, he sits back, sips his coffee, and looks at me. “I refuse to live in fear. He’s flesh and blood, magick or not, and that means he’s mortal like the rest of us.”

  Mortal. Something in the back of my mind waves a flag to get my attention.

  “Holy magick! What if he’s not?”

  “What?”

  “What if Mariel is an immortal?”

  Hopper looks completely confused at my sudden left turn. “What are you talking about? She died last week.”

  Did she? “I wonder how many times she’s lived and died.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You lost me.”

  Dark magick deals with raising the dead.

  “Let’s take care of Mrs. Sorensen,” I say, rising. “I need to think on this.”

  14

  At the hot spring, we fill the buckets in silence.

  “So, what else can you do?” Hopper finally asks. “You know, with magick?”

  We’ve come too far to pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. “My element is fire. I can heat water, start fires, that sort of thing.”