Dark Curse

by Kim Richardson

  Gareth gave her a warm smile. “Yes, ma’am,” said the elf, as he carefully slipped the pizzas onto the grill with a spatula.

  Hands on her hips, she watched Gareth move the food around on the grill, her brows high, seemingly satisfied with his barbecue skills.

  It had been a week since my gran had been cursed with dark magic. Her cheeks had gotten their color back, thanks to Gareth’s medicinal elf dust and elf-made energy drinks. Her movements were still a little slower than I would have liked, but overall she was doing remarkably well considering what she’d been through. I’d almost lost her. The thought of it pulled a shiver from the depths of my soul. But she was here now, happy, healthy, and enjoying the company of me and my friends, my family—an elf, a vampire, an Unmarked, an angel-born and two baal demons. It was an odd sort of family, but families were supposed to be odd. Weren’t they?

  “Is there anything better than your grandma’s homemade pizzas?” asked Tyrius as he leaped onto the picnic table next to me, his eyes on the barbecue and droplets of saliva hitting the tabletop.

  I cocked a brow and leaned forward in my chair. “Well,” I began, a wicked smile on my face. “Since you asked, I have to say—”

  “Stop!” Tyrius raised his paw, his jaw set. “I don’t want to hear about the nakedness of the elf wizard—or what you two do together while you’re naked.”

  I let out a laugh. Gareth turned, smiling mischievously as he met my gaze. A hungry expression flashed across his rugged features, making me wonder if he’d heard that bit of our conversation.

  “You asked.” I shrugged, watching Gareth as he turned his attention back to his meats, the top of his pointed ears peeking through his thick tousled dark hair. My eyes roamed over his very nice backside, and I slumped against my chair, enjoying the view.

  “You need some more wine, Rowyn?” asked my gran as she pulled open the back door, sending wisps of her hair on the top of her head floating.

  I raised my full glass of wine. “I’m fine, thanks. And there’re still plenty of unopened bottles here,” I said and watched her disappear back into her kitchen.

  “She looks much better,” said the cat. “Gareth’s a true healer. And a bad-ass with some serious elf magic. I can’t thank him enough for what he did for me and my Kora.”

  I turned at the sound of strain in my friend’s voice. “Yeah. He is that.” I flicked my gaze to the beautiful white, Turkish longhaired cat who lay sprawled on the grass next to bed of tulips and lilies, eyes closed and taking in the sun. “Kora looks so much better too. Her coat’s shiny and silky. How’s that cough of hers?” I asked, remembering how scared Tyrius was when she’d first started coughing up blood a week ago after she’d woken from the dark curse Ethan had put on her.

  Nothing would calm him, not even Gran’s famous triple pepperoni and cheese pizzas. He’d only let himself relax a little after Gareth had given her some of his healing herbs with a sprinkle of elf dust, which had stopped the majority of the coughing.

  “Gone.” Tyrius settled down on the table so that we were eye level. “Damn dark magic,” grumbled the cat. “If I had known they were coming, I could have Hulked-out and slain Ethan’s ass. I would have ripped his throat open and watched him claw at it while he bled to death.”

  “I know you would have.” I took another sip of my wine, seeing a clear picture in my mind’s eye of a beautiful black panther tearing out a chunk of Ethan’s throat. “It’s not your fault,” I said, knowing my friend blamed himself for what happened to Kora and him. “You couldn’t have known they were coming. No one knew.”

  Tyrius looked at me, his blue eyes brimming. “Demon balls. Never even saw them coming, Rowyn. Never felt them. There was pain... then everything went dark. I couldn’t even keep her safe...” He fell silent, his eyes on Kora and my heart went out to my friend. I knew exactly how he felt, I’d felt the exact same mounting fear when I’d seen gran, him and Kora in the cage at Lisbeth’s warehouse.

  I wrapped my hands on my wine glass. “At least you don’t have to worry about Ethan anymore. That evil is gone. And gone for good. The world is a much safer place without him in it.” I wasn’t sorry he was dead. Maybe that made me a bad person, but I was glad he was.

  “I guess,” exhaled the cat, and he licked his paw. “There’s that bit of good news,” he added between licks. He looked at me. “Can you believe they all offed each other like that? I mean... who the hell does that?” His eyes widened in disbelief. “Them, it seems. What a bunch of idiots. They deserved to die like that.”

  I shook my head. “They weren’t wired the right way. The dark magic altered them. Poisoned their minds. That has to account for some of their crazy-ass behavior. Maybe if they were born naturally, or if Evanora hadn’t messed with their growth, they could have been a little more... normal.”

  “Normal?” laughed Tyrius. If he were human, he would have smacked his thigh. “Since when is anything around us normal? We are the very definition of anything that is above, beyond, or contrary to the world around us. We are paranormals.”

  “Quite right,” I raised my glass at him. “Who wants to be a boring normal?”

  Tyrius’s mouth dropped open and he said, “A mortal normal,” his blue eyes gleaming. “It rhymes. It’s even worse.”

  We both started laughing, deep and long until my ribs hurt. God, that felt good.

  “Layla seems fine, though,” mewed the cat, and I looked over to the pretty young brunette as she leaned in and bit Danto’s neck playfully.

  “Better than fine,” I said, smiling, finding that I didn’t want to look away.

  “I bet they like the kinky sex,” whispered the cat. “You know, whips, chains, dolls—”

  “Tyrius,” I warned, not wanting Danto to hear us, especially about the doll part. “Let’s not go there.”

  The cat turned and eyed me mischievously. “Oh... but you know you want to. Don’t you? You want to know all about the roles they play. Admit it.”

  I tipped my wine glass. “I’m going to pour this over you if you don’t shut up. Wine stains like a bitch.”

  Tyrius stiffened. “I’d say you wouldn’t dare... but I can see that evil gleam in your eye. You want to do it.”

  I settled my glass on my thigh, smiling. “You’ll never know, little kitty.”

  The cat mumbled something under his breath. “Hate dark magic,” ranted the cat. “Wish it never existed. At least you don’t have that bloody grimoire anymore, so I don’t have to worry about you playing around with it and accidently magicking your ass into a ferret.”

  I shifted in my chair, exhaling slowly. I missed that old book. I also missed the rush of adrenaline and excitement of spindling magic spells and summoning circles. “Dark magic saved my life. Without it, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Tyrius cleared his throat. “Don’t think because you and Evanora are now besties that she’s going to give you a new one.”

  I wasn’t stupid enough to think that Evanora and I would ever be friends. We wouldn’t. Ever. But she did have that big ol’ dark grimoire in her shop...

  I glanced at Tyrius. He had a wary sharpness to him, having read my mind about the grimoire, no doubt. “If it hadn’t been for Evanora, Lisbeth would have killed me. She would have shot me.”

  “She did shoot you.”

  “She would have shot me dead, okay,” I retorted. “A bullet to the head.” The memory of Lisbeth pointing a gun to my face raced through me. My stomach knotted with a deep bitterness touched with anger. But she was dead now, killed by Evanora, one of her associates.

  A thought occurred to me. Evanora had saved me, and I never even thanked her...

  “I still can’t believe the old witch saved your ass,” said the cat, his voice high and grim. “I wish I’d seen it. I would have loved to see Lisbeth burn.”

  I took a gulp of my wine, letting the liquid swim in my mouth a moment before I swallowed it. “It wasn’t all pixie dust, rainbows and butterflies. It was horrible.”


  “Just what the old hag deserved,” he said, anger growing on his features. “I guess you could say it was luck that we didn’t kill Evanora,” said Tyrius. “Thank the souls Gareth healed her too. I think you’re right. I think whatever he gave her saved her from that poison Lisbeth had her drink.”

  I didn’t believe in luck. But what Tyrius said was true. If I had let Evanora die or killed her myself, because let’s face it, I’d wanted to, many, many times—I wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying this glass of wine.

  “I think it’s more than luck.” Tyrius’s eyes were bright and he crossed his paws. “I think it’s fate. I think this was just a small part of the destiny that’s been laid out for you.”

  “Give me a break.” I laughed, catching my glass before I spilled some on me. I looked askance at the cat. “Are you serious? You don’t believe in all that crap. Do you?”

  “Think of all the times you should have died... but didn’t. You’re telling me that there’s not some giant cosmic hand guiding you somehow?”

  “Hell no,” I said, belligerently. “You know I don’t believe in that sort of thing. I control my own life, my own destiny, thank you. We’ve had this conversation before. My choices are not determined by some supernatural or celestial power. I’m the one in charge. My actions dictate my future.”

  Lips pressed, I glared at him. I didn’t know where this anger was coming from. Maybe I just didn’t want to believe that my life was already preordained. It made it sound as though I was a robot and my life was not actually my own, but rather a life that someone else had drawn up for me. It made me feel like I was a prisoner, imprisoned in a life I didn’t choose.

  Tyrius perked his head up. “Speaking of all things celestial and cosmic douches, how’s Lucian?”

  Gareth turned around at the sound of the archdemon’s name, his movements quick and stiff in a show of aggression. I gave him a tight smile and waited until the elf turned back to his cooking before answering Tyrius.

  “Hopefully, really, really pissed, and stuck in the Netherworld somewhere.” I hoped to never see that chain-smoking bastard ever again, but I knew that was just wishful thinking.

  “So, the gift wasn’t so much of a gift, after all. More of a curse,” commented the cat, in an I-told-you-so kind of way.

  I glared at him. “Well, being fully infused with the essence of a powerful archdemon had me turning into a demon with an insatiable thirst for death.”

  Tyrius lowered his head. “I’m guessing it wasn’t the dream pony Daddy promised?”

  I made a face. “Well, it wasn’t a string of pearls either. A gift to kill angel souls, that’s what that was,” I said bitterly. “It was a curse. A dark one. There’s no use pretending it was anything else. A damned, evil thing, no matter how you look at it.”

  “You did save Layla with it,” he offered. “In a real demented way, it kinda all worked out.”

  “How’s that?” I said, my voice rising and my temper shifting. “That evil thing was inside me. You have no idea how it made me feel. How twisted it made me. I wasn’t myself. I was going to become someone... something else.”

  At that, Tyrius exhaled loudly. “Would you rather she be dead?”

  I pulled back, not liking what I was feeling. “Of course not.” I took another sip of my wine, letting the drink mollify my resentment and anger. I’d need a lot more wine to numb those feelings.

  Tyrius lowered his ears. “If he finds out about Layla,” said the cat, his tail hitting the tabletop, making me tense. “He’s going to come for her. He’s already tried it on you, and let’s face it, you weren’t exactly the dream daughter he thought you’d be either.”

  “Thanks.”

  “She might not fight it so hard... the darkness...” Tyrius took a breath. “And that has me worried.”

  “I know. Me too.” I looked over to the young Unmarked, looking so content and blissfully happy with her uber-hot, vampire boyfriend who deserved all the love he was receiving from her. “God, I don’t want anything to ruin that. Look at them. It’s almost sickening to watch how in love they are.” I watched as Danto took Layla’s hand, leaning forward, his mouth grazing her ear as he whispered something to her.

  Tyrius shifted, and stifled a groan. “Rowyn,” said the cat, his voice tight. “If he gets a whiff of her existence...”

  “I know.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Tension slammed into me, making every muscle tight. Tyrius was right. I didn’t think Layla could resist the darkness. She was practically a fledgling, and she lacked the life experience that came with age to help her fight back.

  “Then, you know who we need to call,” expressed Tyrius, his tone thick with concern. “And it’s not the Ghostbusters.”

  “The angels.” I’d told Tyrius of my idea of asking the angels for help to lift Lucian’s gift when I had realized that even Evanora’s dark magic couldn’t lift it. Even though the gift had been removed, both Layla and I were still at risk. If it was truly a celestial gift, maybe the angels could help protect us from it, and from Lucian.

  Tyrius gripped the tabletop with his claws, making tiny scratches in the wood. “Angels. Those goddamn, self-important, glowing bastards.”

  “Yeah. Them.” Great. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to that conversation.

  “From what Danto’s been telling me,” began the cat, looking somewhat less tense. “After Evanora admitted everything to the Gray Council, not only did you get a reprieve, but the Legion of angels also lifted the bounty on your head. Not bad... for a mortal,” sneered the cat.

  I smacked my lips together. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? They never gave me the chance to explain myself, but they go ahead and take the word of a dark witch?”

  “I doubt that,” said the cat on an intake of breath. “Only the word of the Gray Council could change the minds of the angels.” Tyrius nodded in approval at his own statement. “We should call them up tomorrow and get this over with.”

  I choked on my wine. “You can’t just call up an angel, Tyrius,” I said, wiping the dribbles of wine from the sides of my mouth before they fell on my jeans.

  Smugly, Tyrius drummed his nails on the table. “Don’t all angel-born have 1-800-Angels-R-US on speed dial?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Well, I know you shouldn’t be summoning angels in magic circles either,” scolded the cat, sounding like a worried parent. “Remember how well that turned out?”

  I slumped in my chair, tapping my glass with my fingers. “That doesn’t count. Vedriel was an asshole. Maybe we can find a nicer angel.”

  “Right.” Tyrius let out a laugh as his tail twitched behind him. “Have fun with that.”

  “Have fun with what?” Gareth stood over me, a platter of sizzling pizzas and chicken wings in his hand.

  “Tell you later,” I said, breathing in those veggie pizzas, my stomach rumbling in answer to the intoxicating smell. Why did food always smell better when you were hungry?

  “Food’s ready!” yelled Tyrius as he bounded to his feet, sounding like a starving teenager. “Here,” said the cat as he sprang towards the platter of food. “Let me have one of those for Kora. Oooh. That one with the extra cheese.”

  Gareth obligingly lowered the platter. He’d barely had it lowered a mere inch before Tyrius snatched up one of the mini peperoni pizzas and leapt off the table.

  I didn’t know what was cuter—Tyrius, gallantly bringing Kora the pizza in his mouth, or her snatching it away from him and running around the backyard with a mini pizza, the size of a waffle, hanging from her mouth, giggling.

  Smiling, the elf set the platter of pizzas and chicken wings between us and Danto and Layla, who at the moment, were too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to even notice the food.

  Too bad. More for me. I leaned over and grabbed a veggie pizza. I let out a moan as my taste buds fizzled and exploded inside my mouth. I couldn’t help it. It was that good.

  “Wow. Soooo good,” I said, with my mouth full. I washed it
down with a gulp of wine.

  “You should thank your grandma.” Gareth sat in the chair next to me. He looked over, grabbed my chair, and yanked it closer to him. I let a little gasp of surprise as our thighs touched.

  “What? Too far?” I teased, biting into my pizza again.

  The elf gave me a sideways grin. “Not anymore.” He reached over the table and poured himself a generous amount of wine. After a tasteful swig, he reached inside his jeans pocket and pulled out a small flat red box, the size of his palm.

  “This is for you,” he said, avoiding my eyes, the tips of his ears reddening through his silky dark hair.

  I sat straighter. “A gift for me?” my face burned. I’d never received a gift from a man before. Yeah, that sounded sad. But maybe it was because I was waiting for the right man.

  I looked up and found Tyrius beaming at me, which only made the heat rise past my face to the top of my head.

  “What is it?” I asked, taking the red box from his waiting hand and shaking it. God. Why did I do that? I knew it wasn’t a ring just by looking at the box, so that amount of panic decreased substantially. Still, this was defiantly jewelry.

  Heart throbbing, I lifted the lid and my breath caught.

  A brilliant diamond-like stone, the size of my thumb and carved in the shape of an angel wing, rested on the red padded cushion. Like a pendant, it was set around a glittering silver chain. The stone looked like a diamond, but the edges were smooth, and it shone, as though there were tiny lights shining from the inside.

  There were no words to describe how stunning it was. I’d never seen anything so incredibly beautiful, apart from the White Grace. This was like a mini version.

  “It’s an elf stone,” said Gareth, his voice rising and falling. “It’s one of our rarest and most precious stones.”