Spells to Die For

by CC Dragon

  “Not now. What else are you hiding from me? What else haven’t you bothered to share with me that I might need to know? Might want to know?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I swear,” he said.

  “Please. I’m so glad I listened. That I was warned,” I said.

  “Warned?” he asked. “Who?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Someone said to take things slow and not ignore any red flags. To trust my gut. Right now, my gut says you need to go away. Let me deal with my family and the new information,” I said.

  He nodded. “Fine. But I’m not letting this drop. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

  “Get out before I magic you in front of a speeding bus,” I said.

  He smiled. “I like this tough side of you. Just don’t be so tough and unforgiving that you lock yourself into one position. Nothing stays the same. Friends and enemies flip sides, and you don’t want to burn bridges.”

  “I don’t know where I’ll be a month or six months. Right now, I’m feeling betrayed, and I see red when I see you. If you can’t give me space and time, I might burn your fancy car. Maybe some of my mom’s dark side is coming out. Want to see how powerful I can get? I do,” I said.

  “I can’t wait to find out.” He grinned. Then, he disappeared.

  It took two days to fully sink in. I was a werewitch? Could I shift? Why didn’t I change during the full moon? It was family dinner night, and I showed up early and sealed all the exits magically.

  Dinner was ready, as usual. I just couldn’t bring myself to eat.

  “Why don’t I shift?” I asked.

  Aunt Mandy took a drink of wine. “I slip you a potion every day of the full moon. In a coffee or tea or something.”

  “Have I ever shifted?” I asked.

  “No, your mother always made sure you had the potion. She didn’t want the trauma for you. I never wanted you to know,” Aunt Mandy said.

  “So, if I’d gone away to college? Gotten married and moved away? What, then?” I asked.

  “I would have crossed that bridge when it came. I know it was wrong to keep that from you, but you were so young. Then, you seemed to just be part of the family. I wanted your life to be normal. As normal as we could have it. You had powers that couldn’t be hidden,” she said.

  “Couldn’t or you wouldn’t?” I asked.

  “Esme and I discussed binding your powers, but there aren’t many people like you out there. She didn’t want to bind everything. The shifting would be dangerous. You’ve grown into a fine and powerful witch.”

  Uncle Vin cleared his throat. “You would certainly shift. Half weres do. You might be less aggressive, but it’s still dangerous. And, if you tried to use magic while shifted, instinctively or defensively—there’s no telling what could happen.”

  I could see where that might be a problem.

  “Why not just explain it all? When I turned eighteen or whatever. Why keep hiding it?” I asked.

  “We didn’t want you to hate us. Vin had no choice,” Aunt Mandy said.

  “He was clawing at your bedroom door,” Vin said.

  “How did you know that something was wrong? How did you know they needed help?” I asked.

  “Your mother sent a telepathic message. She used her powers to call out to us. We heard her screaming for help. Vin called for his brothers to back him and went.” Aunt Mandy smiled softly. “I was so glad you were okay. I couldn’t stop your mother from taking risks. But I could keep you safe, now.”

  “I appreciate what you did for me, but why keep it a secret for so long?” I asked.

  “You’d be mad. We knew you’d be angry,” Iris said. “I caught Mom putting the potion in your drink one day.”

  “Honestly, I was afraid. I didn’t know if you’d want to shift. If you’d want to take up where your mother left off. I wanted you to grow up and decide what you wanted to do. Not to do something because your mother did. She took risks that I didn’t approve of. You cared about weres and vampires, but you didn’t let the werewolves run loose. You had common sense. But your powers kept growing. I was worried you’d think you could handle anything,” Aunt Mandy said.

  “Why didn’t Mom defend herself?” I asked.

  “We can’t answer that. Love and trust are powerful. But getting through to a werewolf? She knew the risks she was taking. I hated her for it for a few years. Leaving you alone. You deserved better,” Aunt Mandy replied. “I think maybe I got lucky. She took that sort of risk with me there. I know she liked dark stuff. Thinking she could control it and turn it to good, somehow. I didn’t know what she was doing that night or I’d have suggested you sleep over at our house. I understand if you hate us.”

  “I don’t hate you. I wish you’d told me when I was eighteen, instead of waiting until I pulled it out of the magical rumor ether. It could’ve been far worse,” I said.

  “Worse than your father killing your mother with you in the house? I know it wasn’t conscious, but I can’t...” Violet teared up.

  “I get that. But Mom had no one else to blame. She chose it all. She took the risk. Dad had to have agreed. Or he could’ve taken the potion. The only real secret is me.” I started to eat slowly. My life was mine, thanks to my aunt and uncle. I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to accept the wolf side of me, to let it all sink in...but I wasn’t mad, anymore.

  “So, we’re okay?” Vin asked.

  I nodded. “I’m still shocked, but I can’t hold onto the blame over knowing a few years earlier or later. Do I take a full potion?”

  “That’s what I’d give you. I didn’t want to risk cutting the dose,” she replied.

  “What about kids?” Violet asked.

  “What?” Vin asked.

  “If Claudia had a baby with a human or whatever...would it shift? Do quarter weres shift?” Violet asked.

  “I don’t know. There haven’t been any studies or research that I know of. Maybe Esme might know,” Aunt Mandy said.

  “I don’t think I’d risk it.” I shook my head.

  “No kids? Just like that?” Iris asked.

  Vin held up his hand. “No big decisions. No, this is how it’ll be. It’s a lot to take in. We don’t know that piece, for sure. And Claudia just broke up with someone. The right man, the right circumstances will come along. You can’t predict the future. Let’s just have a nice family meal.”

  We all ate, and just as we were about to bring out the dessert, Vin’s phone rang.

  “It’s not the full moon,” I joked.

  “It’s Belle.” He answered the call.

  When he walked into the kitchen, we knew something was wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  My uncle’s aunt had passed away suddenly. The same aunt that Viv and Belle had asked about me. Some traditions were the same. Dress in black. A procession to the gravesite.

  Others, well, other gypsy traditions had to be respected, but I’d never truly understand.

  My uncle was sad but remained on the fringe of the group with his family. He’d rejected their ways and brought his daughters up without them, so the tension was ever-present.

  I walked up to Belle and Viv and gave them both a hug. “So sorry for your loss.”

  They nodded. “She liked you. And she didn’t like many non-gypsies.” Belle smiled.

  I always got funny looks because I wasn’t officially family, but this time, it was more nods and smiles.

  “Why is everyone being nice?” I asked.

  “The rings. What you did for the dead girl who owned them. Plus, they know you dumped Bran over us. Our late aunt said you were a good one,” Viv said.

  Gypsy funeral rule number one. Never say the name of the deceased or they’ll haunt you.

  “Why aren’t they being nicer to Vin and his family?” I asked.

  “He left our ways. That was his choice. Weddings bring out the best in people and funerals the worst, I think. You aren’t one of us. You have no choice but to be how you are,” Belle said.
/>   I’d always be an outsider, and that was fine. But it seemed odd that they were being nicer to an outsider who showed them kindness than one of their own who married a non-gypsy. People were strange.

  “I think you might be sensing extra tension because the Muli is Vin’s mom,” Viv said.

  Gypsy funeral rule number two: a Muli is designated to represent the deceased and settle their affairs. You talk to them like you’d speak to the dead person—only see Rule 1: never use their name.

  “It’s a long two days. Clearing out her apartment was murder,” Belle said.

  “So fast?” I asked.

  “We have to get rid of it.” She shrugged. “You might like her stuff. We buried her crystal ball with her, but she had a lot of jewelry and things that would fit you or the café.”

  “That’s a good idea. Then, we would know who had them,” Viv said.

  Gypsy funeral rule number three: The deceased’s possession must be burned or sold to a non-gypsy.

  “I don’t know if I could afford it,” I said.

  “It’s not about getting full value but not being haunted by keeping her possessions.”

  “So, I get haunted?” I asked.

  “You never offended her or had any unfinished business with her. You’re not one of us. She wouldn’t bother haunting you if you don’t offend her and you’re not a gypsy,” Viv said.

  “Let me know how much, if you’re serious. Not sure where I’ll store it all,” I said.

  “Once it’s yours, you can donate it or sell it. sort through it. We just have to get rid of all of it promptly,” Belle said.

  Someone banged a glass against something metal. “Thank you all for coming to the funeral for my dearly departed sister. She was a true professional. Had her card shop for decades. She cared for her family and even extended family. She loved her cat and her nieces and nephews. Her husband died before her, but she was never blessed with children.”

  I turned to Belle. “Cat?” I mouthed.

  “You love cats,” Belle whispered.

  The elder brother cleared his throat. “I understand from my niece, Viv, that our friend, Claudia Crestwood, has offered to buy all of the possessions. We know it’ll be in good hands. Now, if you’ll move on to the hall, we have a good spread of food and drink to toast my sister. Please join us.”

  I fell into step at the back with Vin and my family. I wasn’t related, and I wasn’t going to push in with the immediate family, even though I felt like I should stick with Belle and Viv. They had their mother to look after, anyway. We all got into our respective cars to drive to the next phase of the funeral. These things certainly took some time.

  My aunt unexpectedly got in the passenger seat of my SUV. I’d driven separately, in case I was called away by a problem at the café.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “You’re sure about dumping Bran? I don’t want you to overreact. I chose a gypsy, but he didn’t even stay with his people. There is no reason you have to fight for them,” she said.

  I chuckled. “It’s not about fighting. Bran is not who I thought he was. We’re too different. I noticed it at the ball. All those snobs—he certainly enjoyed their attention. I’m not saying he’s like his aunt, but he covered for her. He had to know she had a hand in all of this.”

  “Family protects family. You wouldn’t cover for Iris or Violet?” she asked.

  I drove in the slow procession, which only added to my frustration. “I would, but they’d never kill anyone. If there was an accident or something, I’d help them report it and explain things properly.”

  “Maybe he was trying to get her to do the right thing?”

  “She killed one of her husbands, too. I’m not sure Bran knew about it before. Maybe, in some places, that sort of magic is okay and somehow justified, but we don’t live in that world. I don’t want to. I’d rather live with humans and vampires than witches without rules.” I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  “But he didn’t kill anyone. He seems like a good man. Esme insists he’s not like the others,” Aunt Mandy said.

  I nodded. “I know. But he found out my secret and didn’t come to me. He didn’t call the second he knew. He kept it from me.”

  “Because he knew it would hurt you. The same reason I did,” she said.

  “You still see me as a little girl. Parental habits. I can forgive you, because it would’ve hurt me at eight or ten years old to know that. I wouldn’t know how to handle that pain. I’m grown, now, and I wanted to know the truth. I needed to know more than I needed to avoid the pain. Bran should’ve respected that. I thought he understood that and cared about me.”

  “He cares. He keeps coming around.”

  I inhaled deeply. “He doesn’t like being dumped. I bruised his ego.”

  “You care about him. Don’t put up walls. Take some time, but no one is perfect.” She patted my knee.

  “Fair enough. But I won’t turn into one of them. I can’t abandon who I am to fit in. Bran might think this is normal, but it’s not. I won’t tolerate it. If that’s his aunt’s influence, what are his parents like?” I asked.

  “Good question. You have every right to be angry and cautious. Just let things cool and explain all of that to him calmly. Maybe give him another chance. Men screw up a lot, but the good men screw up trying to protect the people they care about,” she said.

  I parked my SUV in the lot of a banquet hall the gypsies often used for gatherings. “Let’s just drop it and forget about him, for now.”

  “Deal.” She exited the car.

  I followed her, and we met up with the rest of our family. We walked into the hall filled with food and booze like a wedding but the feel was different. There was a massive buffet with shrimp and prime rib and all the sides you could think of. The dessert table itself was six feet long. But the men went to the long bar along one side of the hall, first.

  We grabbed a table, and my uncle poured the wine.

  “I don’t feel like drinking,” I said.

  “It’s bad luck not to.” Vin lifted his glass. “To my aunt.”

  We lifted our glasses and drank.

  “You really offered to buy her stuff?” Iris asked.

  “It seemed like it meant something to Viv and Belle. Hopefully, it’s not a ton or costly,” I said.

  Vin took another drink of wine. “You don’t need to do that. You don’t need to be the champion of the gypsies.”

  “Just the werewitches?” I asked.

  He grinned. “You don’t have to champion anything. There is no reason you have to do anything but run your café. It’s your life. Don’t let anyone bully you.”

  I knew what he meant. I’d tried to follow up my mother’s work by helping weres and vampires. Maybe it was her mission in life, but was it mine?

  “Let’s get some food. We’ll all feel better after we eat,” Aunt Mandy said.

  She and the girls got up. Vin didn’t.

  “Do you want me to bring you back something?” I offered.

  “Sit for a second,” he said.

  I sat next to him.

  “I need to make my peace with my sister, but first, I need to do it with you,” he said.

  I shook my head. “You did what you had to.”

  He smiled. “You don’t blame me? I killed your father. Not a random werewolf. I knew who it was.”

  I nodded and forced back the tears. “He attacked my mother. He was coming after me. That’s true?” I asked.

  “Yes. I tried to drive him from the house. He turned on me.”

  “Then, there’s no question you did the right thing. You saved me. You had to defend yourself. It’s not your fault,” I said.

  “Your dad was a good father. He loved you. He’d never have hurt you, except...”

  “Except when he was a wolf. He had no control, then. I get it. He might have been a good father, but he wasn’t responsible. Not taking the potion with me in the house. If my mom wanted to play that game
or experiment with her influence, she had the magic to stop him. She still didn’t.”

  “She loved him too much. That’s why your aunt was so worried. Your mother thought love could cut through the werewolf effects. Her experiment failed, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t love you. I don’t want you doing any experiments like that. Take the potion. Mandy and Esme made sure to spike your tea all your life; now, it’s up to you to take it. Don’t go through the pain and stress of shifting.”

  “Ever?” I asked.

  “Why? Because you can? It’s not worth it.” Vin leaned in. “I know you’d lock yourself up and be safe, but why put yourself through it to sit in a cell? You encourage werewolves to take the potion. Have a good life. Give yourself the same good advice.”

  It made sense. I’d never advise anyone to go through it if they didn’t have to. But, now, that I knew it was in me, even buried deep, I sort of wanted to know what it was like.

  “Food. You go make peace, and we’ll make you a plate,” I said.

  “You need to speak to her, too. Get the blessing to buy her things. Since you’re here and know her family,” he said.

  “I’m not a gypsy.” I shrugged.

  “Still, respect the tradition and pay your respects.”

  I frowned. The Muli always seemed creepy. I understood the purpose. Not everyone could make it to the deathbed of a family member in time. There were always things left unsaid. It sounded oddly cathartic to be able to talk it out with a representative. But it wasn’t that person.

  I headed for the food, and my aunt had already made her hubby a plate. I piled on food, because I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Returning to the table, I spotted someone who really didn’t belong here.

  I dropped my plate at the table and marched over to Bran.

  “Leave, now,” I said.

  “I just wanted to pay my respects to Mrs.—“

  “Stop! You can’t say her name. It’ll freak them out. Get out, now.” I pointed to the door.

  “What? Why?”

  “Gypsy crap. You don’t care, anyway. Why did you come to the wedding before? If the gypsies are so bad in your family’s opinion, why would you have attended that wedding?” I asked.