The Gramm Curse (The Night Watchmen Series)

by Candace Knoebel

  He hangs up. I stare at my phone for a minute, and then up to Jezi’s window. Her curvy silhouette passes by, taking her toward her bedroom. For a moment, I let my control slip. To lift this curse would mean the world to her. It would mean she could get close to me…we could become better partners, stronger. I owe it to her to try. She’s put up with me for so long.

  I scroll through the contacts and stop on Weldon. He programmed himself in as ‘Superior Ass Kicker.’ The phone rings once before he answers.

  “I figured you’d be calling soon.”

  “Why is that?” I ask as I chew on a fingernail.

  “Word travels fast in the Demon world. I heard you took Firebrand down. Bael isn’t happy.” I can hear the smile in his voice. He loves when I piss the leader of the Underground off.

  So do I.

  “Well, he can get in line behind the rest of the paranormal I’ve pissed off. I’m sure every Vampire nest leader and Werewolf alpha wants to rip my head off right along with him.

  “Don’t forget every Succubus, Incubus, Shifter, and…”

  “I get it. Look, can I come over?”

  “Anytime, baby,” he croons in a mocking tone that ends in a bark of laughter.

  I shake my head, smiling a little. “Okay. See you in a few.”

  We hang up, and I put the truck in gear and pull out onto the main road. A little while later, I pull onto the street where the abandoned theater is. It’s a crumbling wasteland no sane person would dare enter. Weldon took it over shortly after his run-in with Mack. He needed a hideout; a place to lay low and put the pieces of his broken reality back together. I guess he felt a kinship with the building long forgotten. Cassie worked a reflection spell on the building to keep human eyes from really noticing it.

  After shutting my truck off, I make my way around the back of the building, passing piled up crates and broken glass. Weldon purposefully broke the lights to keep the entrance encompassed in shadows. For Demons, using shadows is a way of transportation.

  I knock once on the old metal door, and then step back. A moment later, the door swings open, and golden eyes emerge from the shadows. A smirk breaks across his face, deepening the faint lines in the corner of his eyes. “So, you wanted to see me?” He steps aside so I can enter.

  I brush past him, hearing him following my every step. Dank, moldy air clings to me like saran wrap, despite the late night chill. “I have something I need you to look at,” I say as I cross the old wooden stage and step through the ragged hole in the cloth screen.

  He steps through behind me and stops. “Oh, dear Jaxen. We’ve discussed this already. I’m not a doctor, and I can’t help you with your ailments in the lov-”

  I spin around and raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m serious.”

  His hands fly up in innocence, but the smirk on his lips boils behind the golden hue of his eyes. “When aren’t you serious, Jaxen Gramm?” He crosses his arms and levels his gaze on me. “I suppose it’s safe to say that your picture would be included with the definition in the dictionary. Don’t you agree?”

  I roll my eyes and hop off the stage. The sound of my boots colliding against the bare concrete echoes all around us. He’s done a good job with clearing out most of the theater seats to create an open, livable space. Moonlight trickles in through a hole in the roof, teasing the various weeds that have sprouted up through the cracks in the floor. Tattered, molded fabrics of cream and teal cling to the balcony above us and wrap around the base of the theater. Bits of red carpet remain under our feet, littered with dirt and powdered concrete. In the middle of the theater is a fire pit where he’s burning some of the old seats. Couches scooped up from the side of the road circle around the fire.

  I drop down onto one and watch as he takes his seat across from me. One lone eyebrow lifts, waiting for me to spill what I came here for. I run my hands down the length of my pants and suck in a small breath. Weldon knows better than anyone, better than Gavin even, just how much the curse has affected me. Gavin has always had a way of deflecting things so he can live in the moment and enjoy what’s in front of him, but Weldon and me… Every moment we live is a moment stitched together by the threads of our grievous past, a moment glued to the nightmares that haunt us.

  And for misfits like us, there is no release.

  Weldon leans forward, his smile flattening with sobriety, “Hey, what is it, man?”

  I look up at him and have to shut my eyes just to get it out. Every fiber in my being screams at me to keep from believing, to stay within the safety of my four walls. My head is a mess of warnings and cynicism, but my heart…my heart wants this so bad. My heart needs this.

  “The Demon we took down tonight gave Cassie and Jezi a spell. He said it would lift the curse on my bloodline. It’s in Daemonic though. I killed him before he could offer Jezi and Cassie a deal.”

  Weldon’s eyes widen. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair, taking in the weight of what my words really mean. “And you’re okay with this? I mean, you’re okay with having me decipher it? He could have been bluffing, Jaxen. I don’t… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  I clench my jaw and grip my knees. Fear rests in my throat. It’s choking me, just like it has been my whole life. I nod once and look away from him. I feel horrible for asking this of him because I know how hard he tries to keep away from that side of himself; to keep from using his Demon side.

  He lets out a weighted breath. “Well, at least my misfortune can be put to good use. Call in the Calvary then.”

  With my eyes centered on a shadow in the distance, I pull out my phone. I quickly type a text to Gavin and Jezi, and then put the phone back in my pocket. Feel nothing. Fear nothing, I repeat to myself. Don’t be a pansy. This is nothing. Feel nothing.

  “Jaxen,” Weldon says quietly. There’s enough hesitance in his voice to make me look over at him. “I know what this means to you. Your mom…”

  “Don’t.” My gaze pierces through his. Nobody, not even me, talks about her. I close my eyes and see her steps walking away from me, forever leaving me behind. I build my walls higher, stronger. Feel nothing.

  Weldon looks off to the side. “Sorry, man. Just…shit, just know that I’m here for you.”

  I stand up. “I’m going to go wait outside,” I say, and with that, I leave him on the couch.

  A TRAIL OF HEADLIGHTS SKIM over the building next to the theater. They’re here. I kick off the wall and pull my hands out of my pockets. Jezi’s mind skims the edges of mine, but I keep my wall up. I know she’s excited. I feel it without even being completely merged with her. I also know that if I let it, her excitement will cloud my judgment.

  And that can’t happen.

  “That was fast,” Gavin says as he makes his way over to me. Glass crunches under his boots. “I figured it would take you more moping time to figure out if you would ask Weldon or not.”

  I look up at him and, although he’s joking, there’s a small bit of understanding nested in the depths of his blue eyes; eyes like my father.

  I look away from him.

  “Of course he’d want to,” Cassie chimes in over Gavin’s shoulders. Her fiery gaze locks on me. “You might try to act like you don’t care, but you’re not fooling any of us.”

  A frown pulls at my lips.

  Jezi clears her throat and steps around Cassie. Her eyes remind me of a doe. “I’m glad you decided to ask Weldon,” she says, half-looking at me. “What made you change your mind?”

  There’s too much hope in her question, and it batters against my thin frame of isolation. I sigh deeply and run a hand through my hair, tugging on the ends. I want to go back to the exact moment I lost control, back to when the Demon opened his mouth, and silence him.

  My words carelessly toss around on my tongue as my jaw clenches. Cassie’s right, I do care, more than I’d like to admit, and it’s killing me. It’s making me weak. I also know that if my parents couldn’t find a way around the curse, then what ho
pe does that leave for us?

  “Plenty,” Jezi says quietly with her eyes glued to the toe of her high-heeled boots. I didn’t even feel her enter my mind. “That’s because you were too busy worrying over being let down,” she says in my mind.

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Realize that you’re not the only one affected by this. Understand that you’re not the only one who could potentially walk away hurt from this outcome.” Her eyes connect with mine. “We all want this to work out equally as bad as you.”

  Gavin rubs his hands together. “Well, I don’t know about all you punk asses, but I think this is going to work. I can feel it.”

  Cassie snorts. “Yeah, ‘cause your ‘feelings’ are so on point.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks as he flinches his head back.

  She casts a sidelong look in his direction. “Exactly.”

  His brows scrunch in confusion.

  “Come on,” I say, looking away from them. I open the back door and follow in behind.

  “Look what the cat drug in,” Weldon says as we each make our way through the hole in the screen.

  “It’s been awhile,” Gavin says, arms open in welcome. Weldon hugs him, slapping him on the back, and then courtly bows in Cassie's direction. When she moves to the side, his eyes fall on Jezi. A smirk rises at the corner of his mouth.

  “Well, well,” he drawls out as he looks to everyone with his arms open. “I must have done something right in my life to blessed with the beautiful presence of Miss Jezibelle Beaumont. I feel so privileged.” He leans over to her. “Tell me, have you finally decided to remove the stick from your…”

  “Weldon,” I say sharply. He turns to me, wearing a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Here,” Jezi says, shoving the spell against his chest. She’s never liked that I’m more open with him than with her. She makes it clear by the way her face always forms into a scowl in his presence. I hop off the stage and make my way over to one of the couches. Gavin sits in a large armchair, and Cassie takes her place on his lap. Jezi sits next to me, her gaze glued to the back of the paper Weldon clutches. His eyes flash gold as he taps into the side of himself he despises the most.

  “This is old Daemonic,” Weldon says as his eyes flash over the page. He grabs a crumpled up piece of paper from off the table and unfolds it. After pulling a pen from his pocket, he scribbles down each and every line of the spell. The seconds that tick by feel like millenniums spent in hell. When he drops the pen, his eyes find mine across the coffee table. “It’s going to require a sacrifice.”

  “What kind of a sacrifice?” Jezi asks as she scoots forward.

  He shuts his eyes for a minute, and I already know it’s something I’m not going to like; something horrid and against what I stand for. “A blood sacrifice. A Witch placed this curse on your lineage, therefore, the blood of a Witch will lift it.” Pain and regret swirl inside his tormented eyes. “I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.”

  Dread like ice freezes my system, switching my emotions back on. I can’t fight what I’m feeling. I’ve never felt this…this angry, this scared. My chest rises and falls unevenly. Every muscle in my body is clenched, ready for a fight, ready for release. I knew this was too good to be true. I knew it would be impossible.

  “It’s not impossible, Jaxen.”

  “Don’t even suggest it, Jezi. It’s not going to happen.”

  “You’re not even giving this any thought.”

  I cut my eyes to hers, my lips curled in disgust. “That’s because I’m not a murderer.” I stand up. It feels like the walls are going to crash in on me; like I can’t breathe. It’s not until I make my way outside that I can breathe again.

  Weldon steps out behind me and leans against the wall next to me. “You okay?”

  I look up to the sky. “I won’t kill another in the Coven for my own benefit. As much as Gavin wants to save Cassie…he wouldn’t either. It’s wrong. Our job is to extinguish the paranormals, not our own kind. That’s for the Priesthood to deal with.”

  “I figured you’d say that.”

  I jerk my gaze to his. “What do you expect me to do? Murder one of my own? That goes against everything I stand for, and you wouldn’t do it either.”

  “No, I wouldn’t” he says quietly. “But not everything is as clean cut as you think. Not every Witch is good. What if I said there was a way to kill two birds with one stone?”

  I grit my teeth. I don’t say anything.

  “What if I said I know a Witch who deals dirty with Demons? The same Witch the Middletons have been looking for. That you’d be doing the Coven a favor by wiping this Witch off the grid? Would you consider it then?”

  The acid in my stomach stirs at the thought. “That’s not for me to decide. A Primeval’s crimes are only to be judged by the High Priesthood. If we did this, we’d be committing a crime ourselves. We are never supposed to kill our own.”

  “It’s not a crime if it’s your assignment.”

  “No.”

  “I can talk to Mack. He’ll agree. He owes me.”

  “No.”

  “You’re being stubborn and self-righteous! What about Jezi? Gavin? Cassie? It doesn’t just affect you, Jaxen. I’m talking to my brother whether you like it or not.”

  I spin around, clenching my hand around his neck as I shove him back against the wall. “I said no, Weldon. I will not be a part of this. I will not live the rest of my time on this earth in shame.”

  He scowls at me, baring his teeth, and then shoves me off and straightens himself out. He brushes past me and heads inside without a second glance. I lean my head against the wall, feeling a storm raging inside of me. Every cell is lit with a fire of confliction. I should let him talk to Mack. I should for Jezi and for Cassie and for Gavin.

  But why does it feel so wrong?

  My volation awakens, and currents of electricity flicker to life within me. With my fists balled, I slam it into the wall, crushing brick into dust. Blood coats my aching knuckles when I pull my fist back, but I don’t care. Too much anger feeds the adrenaline coursing through me. Too much disappointment fuels my need to hurt.

  I regret heading back inside the moment I see the look on Jezi’s face. She’s not going to give this one up.

  “We have to try,” Cassie says, reiterating the fact.

  “No we don’t,” I say through my teeth. “Do I need to remind you that killing another Coven member is a crime?”

  “Not if it’s our assignment,” Gavin says. His eyes are on the fire in front of him. Small notes of shame wrap around the edges of his words.

  I glare over at Weldon. Of course he’d offer them the same thing. He knew they’d agree and ultimately out-vote me.

  “Breaking this curse won’t bring her back, Gavin.” His eyes widen a little. “It won’t bring Dad back,” I say harshly, looking between all of them, “but apparently I don’t have a say, so do whatever the hell you want. You can count me out. I’m done here.”

  “Run from your problems, just like you always do, little Gramm,” Cassie shouts behind me.

  Jezi calls my name as I storm out of the theater. She catches up to me by the time my hand latches onto the door handle of my truck. “Jaxen, please.” I open the door, but her hand pushes it shut. I turn and look at her. “You’re not even giving this a chance. Mack might have a better idea. He loves you and Gavin.”

  She always uses the fact that he stepped in when my parents stepped out…like it’s some kind of excuse, some kind of privilege or card I can just drop when I want something to go my way.

  “Like I said, do what you want, just don’t count on me being a part of it.”

  Tears form behind the anger that wraps around her irises. “Damn it, Jaxen! For just once in your life, could you treat me like your Witch and not some person standing in line waiting for your affection? I’m here, in the flesh, waiting for you, wanting to save you.” She reaches her hand out and slides it over my ch
eek, pleading in her soft gaze. “Why won’t you let me?”

  I grab her hand, holding it for a second, and then move it off my face. “Because,” I say, hardening myself, “I don’t need to be saved.” She steps back as I get in the truck and drive off.

  NO MATTER HOW FAST I drive, I can’t out-run my demons. I can’t out-run my past. Everything is crumbling down around me, slipping through my fingers. My mother’s face and her words slowly chisel away at the lies I’ve surrounded myself in, the lies that have kept me from opening my heart. But she’s not here to give me advice. She’s not here to stop me from facing the truth that no matter how much I pretend to be okay with sacrificing myself, I’m not.

  Because the truth is, I don’t want to die.

  I stop at the nearest bar and put the car in park. Red lights glare over the hood of my truck as I grip the steering wheel, searching for a viable release.

  What are you doing here? I hate drinking. I learned my lesson the night Weldon saved my ass from the forest behind the Academy from a pack of Werewolves.

  Hadn’t I?

  It wasn’t all that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime ago. Jezi and I had gotten into an argument that quickly turned into a pretty big fight during our first year at the Academy. It drew everyone’s attention during a party in the Hunters’ dorm. Stupidly, I went for a jog to try and run off the alcohol, the embarrassment, and the anger.

  It was a wrong choice, a bad choice based off of emotion. These emotions need to remain contained, shoved deep in the back part of my mind, so I can lock it down…keep it cut off from me. I was so focused on that, I never even knew what hit me. I’d gone from sweat rolling down into my eyes, to looking up at Weldon as he struggled to pull me free from the iron-jawed grip of a Werewolf intent on dragging me back to its den.

  Waking up seconds from death has a way of realigning your complete thought process. The thought of drinking paralleled the line of death for me. After that, I swore to myself, and to Weldon, I’d never drink again. I swore I’d never lose control over myself, and that was the moment we became friends.