Witch (Cursed book 4)

by Tara Brown

  “Ophelia, I have the dagger if you could just do this little spell for me quickly.”

  She looked back at him and nodded, “Yeah, alright. Fine,whatever.”

  He bent down and pulled a small dagger from his sock.

  “What is this Braveheart? Who keeps knives in their socks?”

  He smiled, “Hey, I grew up with earth witches. They always have a spare blade somewhere or salt in a pocket.”

  He passed her the blade. It was still warm from being near his skin.

  She looked at him, “Are you sure I can do this?” Her nerves started to freak her out.

  “I can’t die anyway. Stabbing me in the heart is just going to hurt if the spell doesn’t work.”

  She glanced at Aimee who seemed off in space. She sighed and spoke the words she’d heard the younger Lydia speak.

  “Fod yn rhydd o’r cadwyni o gariad,” she slid the blade along her hand slicing it open. The pain rushed in. She started to panic but coated the blade in her dark-red blood. It seemed darker than she remembered it ever being. It was almost black.

  He pulled off his shirt and took a deep breath, “Do it."

  She looked him in the eyes, about to back out but he shook his head, “Please, I need this.”

  The desperation in his eyes spoke to her. She plunged the knife into his soft skin. He screamed and writhed in pain instantly. She pulled the blade out and let it drop to the floor.

  She wrapped her arms around him and began to cry, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Aimee snapped out of her daydream and grabbed him as well. She wrapped her arms around him.

  He screamed in pain.

  He dropped to his knees on the tile and fell to his side. He curled into a ball. Ophelia sobbed, wrapping herself around him and cradling his head in her arms, “I’m so sorry.”

  Suddenly, a redhead rushed into the room, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

  She dropped to her knees in front of him, sobbing.

  Aimee reached a hand for the redhead, but Sam put a fist out, “No Aims. She isn’t worth it.” he spoke through gritted teeth.

  The redhead cried into her hands, “I never meant it. I never meant it, Sam. Please. Please.” She shook her head, reaching for him.

  He recoiled at her touch, “Never speak to me again.”

  “Sam. I was confused. You were right, I shouldn’t have gone there. Sam, I’m sorry. Please. I love you, Sam.”

  He reached for Aimee instead and let her help him off the ground. On his chest sat a brand new scar in the shape of a heart with singed edges.

  Aimee lifted him, “Get out of our house.”

  He looked weak as Aimee led him from the room.

  Ophelia knelt on the floor, “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know it would work.”

  The sobbing girl covered her face. Her skin shook and shivered like the sheriff’s had. Ophelia felt the air grow cold.

  The redhead looked at her and screamed. Her face grew frightening.

  Ophelia backed away, "He asked me to do it.”

  The redhead lunged at her. Ophelia felt something surge from her. Her hands shot at the redhead. Waves of something burst from her and shot the angry girl across the room. Ophelia felt something strong fill her. It took over all of her emotions. She was no longer afraid. She looked up at the ceiling. She frowned at the tile ceiling filling with dark angry clouds.

  Rain began to pour across the tile floor, drenching her and the other girl. She ignored it as power surged through her.

  Thunder and lightning filled the sky. Rods of lightning struck the floor around her.

  The redhead dove at her. She pulled at the lightning hitting the redhead in the back. She screamed and flew across the room again. She slid on the water and slammed into the wooden wall. A huge hole was busted through into the next room.

  Suddenly Giselle appeared at the door, “STOP WRECKING MY SHIT!” she screamed into the rain and hail falling on the floor.

  The redhead snarled at Ophelia, completely ignoring Giselle's arrival.

  Hanna, what the hell? Why are you trashing my den?”

  The redhead leapt at her, still snarling.

  Ophelia struck her with lightning again, knocking her to the ground on her stomach.

  Giselle looked at her, “Ophelia, girl your eyes are some eff’d up right now. You need to stop raining on my den. And stop hitting Hanna with lightning. She’s a Rose.”

  Ophelia ignored her words. She loved the feelings that were flowing through her. The power was licking at her.

  She pulled at the lightning again and forked it, striking Giselle and the redhead.

  Giselle was knocked back into the wooden-paneled walls. She growled and leapt at Ophelia. She was faster than the redhead. She hit Ophelia mid-waist with a crushing blow. She knocked them both out the window and onto the grass, two stories below.

  Her hands came at Ophelia’s throat but Ophelia shoved her with energy. Giselle flew back at the vines against the brick castle wall. Ophelia twisted the vines of the castle wall, trapping Giselle against it.

  A scream filled the yard, “STOP THIS!”

  She turned to see Lydia standing on the grass with her hands on her hips. The next thing she knew she was trapped against the castle wall with vines choking her. The redhead appeared out of nowhere and was held against the wall too.

  Lydia’s eyes were solid black. With her long, grey hair she looked terrifying. Ophelia felt reality creeping in, as her magic faded away. She started to giggle.

  The redhead, whose face was covered in tears, looked at her like she was insane.

  “It was my first time using my magic.”

  The redhead didn’t seem to come around. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the hard brick wall roughly.

  “WHAT DO YOU THREE THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Lydia paced in front of them.

  Giselle pointed with her fingers that she had free toward Ophelia, “They did this. I was just defending my den. I don’t know what the den is for, but they were using it like a wrestling ring.”

  “That’s boxing, you moron and we saw you take Ophelia out the window. Nice try.” Lorri put her hands on her hips the same way Lydia had. “You’ve left a magical stain in the area. Ophelia, your father is looking for you. His people will be able to see this mess. You idiots. This shit is a beacon for them to follow.”

  Lydia sighed and put her face in her hands, “We can disperse it some. The stain will still be in the city, but at least they will assume she’s at my house, not the Vampire Queen’s.”

  Lydia’s eyes looked normal and kind when she pulled her hands away from her face. She looked like it was her heart that was broken, when she looked at the redhead, “Hanna. I’m so sorry.”

  The redhead shook her head, “I did this. It’s my fault. I never should have gone. They never taught me anything I couldn’t have figured out from your book.”

  Lydia swallowed hard as her eyes darted at Lorri, “We just thought you would want to know your mother’s family.”

  She nodded, “I did, but it’s cost me everything.”

  Lorri looked indignant, “It was the best place for you to learn emergency feeding to stop the need.”

  The redhead looked down, as best as the vines would allow, “It doesn’t matter now. He’s broken the match.”

  Ophelia noticed for the first time the bracelet the girl wore was glowing, like a fire burned inside of it. She couldn’t help but feel animosity toward the girl. Something made her dislike her instinctively.

  A whisper filled her mind, ‘It’s her siren half. All supernatural women naturally dislike her. She is a sweet girl, I promise you.’ Ophelia looked at Lydia, who nodded, ‘You will like her if you give her a chance. We need to talk about that spell and Annabelle's plate. I'm very angry, Ophelia.’

  Ophelia felt sick. She had used her magic and done a terrible thing. The redhead lost everything because of Ophelia. Ophelia didn’t know the story. She didn’t want t
o. It would only make things much worse.

  She needed to focus on the important things. She wanted her sister back.

  “I will let the vines release you all, but you will apologize to each other. Ophelia it’s safest for you to stay here. Giselle, she doesn’t leave the house. Ophelia, I am very disappointed in you.”

  Giselle opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again as black clouds floated in Lydia’s eyes.

  “Fine."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sam

  The pain was overwhelming. Nothing soothed it. He threw up when he tried to eat and passed out from the pain when he tried walking around.

  He felt mortal for the first time.

  His shallow breaths worried him, and by the look of it, Aimee too.

  “So when did you sell your dad’s house?” he asked, hoping for something beyond Hanna filling his mind.

  She shook her head, “I listed it last summer. It sold a month ago. We just closed it.”

  “Have you seen the people who bought it?”

  A subtle smile crept across her lips, “Maybe.”

  “You’ve spied on them?”

  She laughed, “It wasn’t spying. It was checking to make sure they would really love my house. My mother was all over that house. The curtains. The paint. The carpet. All her.”

  “Aims, you have to stop living in the past.”

  “My sister is taken, my mother is dead and my father is living with his mother in France. Easier said than done. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  He looked at her, fighting the anger in his words, “My father was one of the fallen. He fell with Lorri. His name was Anthony. He met my mother and they fell in love. He joined ranks with Jonathan, because he, apparently, chose my mother over God. Lorri murdered him when my mom was pregnant with me. She gave birth to me in Greece with the other sirens. They shunned us when they saw what I was. We moved to Canada to live amongst the Wiccans on an island in British Columbia. When I was nine, my father’s friend Jonathan took my mother as his slave. She has lived in captivity for twenty years. I thought she had been taken by the government and let myself get abducted by them. I lived in captivity until you freed me.”

  Aimee looked confused, “You always said they were alive. How do you even kill a fallen? I'm sorry I said that, Sam. I didn’t know.”

  He sighed, “No one does. I want to believe my parents loved each other, but the more time I spend with everyone, the more I think they just fell into the attraction. He was an angel and she was a siren. Worst mix ever. How would you ever trust your love in that situation?”

  Aimee blushed, "That's what I always thought about Aleks. I always thought the love wasn’t real. It was part of whatever we all are. Is your mother still alive?”

  Sam shook his head, “I don’t know. Jonathan is a bad man. He has kept one siren for a very long time. He had Daniel turn her apparently. If my mother, your sister, and Ophelia’s sister are all alive, it’ll be one huge miracle.”

  Aimee flinched, “Alise is alive. I know it.”

  Sam felt his eyes grow heavy, “That’s good.” He didn’t have the same feeling about his mother. He imagined that after twenty years of horror he wouldn't know her, even if he did see her.

  xxxx

  He woke feeling the cloud of desperation and pain lifted. He stretched his arms freely. His heart didn’t burn. He felt something he had never felt before, freedom.

  He loved Hanna from the moment he saw her. He knew his future. His feelings for her had always been in the background. The freedom came at a price, and he could feel the price tag attaching itself to him. He felt empty. There was no love. There was no possibility of love. Nothing inspired him. He was calm and even inside.

  He took a moment to adjust to the feeling of it. It didn’t hurt, but it lacked joy and possibilities.

  Aimee was passed out next to him. He stroked her arm. He wished he could love her. She was perfect. He saw it clearly for the first time as the haze Hanna he had created, lifted from him.

  Her face was pretty but her heart was beautiful. He had no idea the capacity for love she had. She lived surrounded by constant guilt and pain. She would never find happiness and joy, as long as the ones she loved lived in pain.

  She woke with a smirk, “Are you touching me in my sleep, because that’s a little creepy.”

  He laughed. His laugh felt hollow. “No. I was admiring you. I wish I could be like you.”

  She laughed, “You wish to be bogged down with too many people’s happiness attached to your choices and to be heartbroken over a guy you didn’t choose. Yes, my life is admirable, there is no doubt.”

  Sam laughed at her, “I like it when you pity yourself. No, I was thinking about how many people you love. It’s astounding. You love Shane, Aleks, your father and sister, Giselle, Lydia, Ari, Lucas and Ben, me, and I dare say you love Lorri, even if she is shitty to be around.”

  She smiled, “You forgot someone.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Annabelle. I love Annabelle. Sometimes I go there just for the baths. She gives these baths where she sings old weird Cajun songs and washes your back. It’s good. And I love Blake.”

  Sam winced, “He’s done so many terrible things, Aims.”

  She shook her head, “I know, but in my heart, I know it’s not him. He didn’t do it because he wanted to. They’ve done something to him.”

  “You’re setting yourself up for some serious disappointment, my friend. When we finally find our way into their lab, and we see he is there for his own selfish reasons, you’re going to be hurt. Prepare yourself for the worst.”

  She shook her head, “I can’t. I just can’t. Not with him.”

  Giselle poked her face into the room, “Guys, Hanna won’t leave the castle. Sam, you have to talk to her.”

  Sam nodded and got up from the bed. He walked toward Giselle who was grinning at him, “You two got a thing going on?”

  He frowned, “No.”

  She shrugged, “She’ll tell me.” She walked into the room past him.

  His feet padded along the cold floor.

  He had hated the castle.

  He had hated his memories.

  He had hated Hanna.

  Suddenly, it was gone. The hate was deflated and pathetic.

  He couldn’t bring himself to get past her betrayal. His emotions attached to it felt weak. Not poignant and deep as they should be. They were shallow and barely there. He felt hollow.

  He walked to the room, he knew she would sleep in. The room she had been held captive in. She would torture herself by sleeping there.

  The candles had been snuffed recently, leaving a smell of smoke in the air. She lay on the bed in her clothes. Her red hair was splayed out around her. His stomach didn’t ache and long the way it had before. Her ruddy skin didn’t move his fingers to touch her.

  He barely registered her smell in the air.

  “Hanna.” his voice was flat.

  She turned over, revealing her red and puffy face, “Sam.”

  She reached for him but he stepped back and walked to the armchair beside the bed.

  Tears started to flow from her eyes, “Sam, I’m sorry. I need you to hear that. I love you. I love you so much.”

  He nodded, “I know you are. Hanna, I can’t forgive you.”

  “I know that. I see the blank stare in your face. You don’t see me anymore. I don’t know how to fix it.”

  He grinned, wishing he could enjoy her pain, “You can’t. I’ve broken the match. You’re free to live in Greece and torture men to your heart’s content.”

  She shook her head, “I don’t want that. I want you.”

  His smile felt stuck on his face, “You had me, Hanna.” He laughed bitterly, “Correction—you never had me. You wanted space after Aleks and Marcus died. You wanted to figure things out. You wanted to catch up with your emotions.”

  “I just wanted to start over.”

  He
shook his head, “There is no starting over. I’ve broken the match.”

  “Sam, why would you go to such extremes?”

  “Hanna, you told me that you wished you never loved me. What did you think I would do?”

  Her eyes grew cold, “Understand that I was drunk and confused. I just said those things. I never meant them.”

  He nodded, “Okay, well great you never meant them. That doesn’t change what is done. You have a lot of growing up to do, Hanna. You will get past me, just like I’ve gotten past you.”

  He stood and walked from the room.

  She called out to him, “Don’t do this, Sam.”

  He muttered, “It’s done.”

  He flashed to Lydia’s house. He opened the fridge and pulled out the chocolate almond milk that he loved. He drank from the carton.

  “Sam, you knows I hates that.”

  He glanced at Annabelle and pulled the carton from his lips, “Sorry Annabelle. I’ll finish it.”

  She pointed to the table, “You wants some breakfast?”

  He looked over and nodded at the plates of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and sausage.

  “No home fries?”

  She pulled them from the oven, as he spoke, “Don’t be getting picky on me, Sam. Yous lucky you getting breakfast after what you done to Miss Hanna. You conned that girl into doing that spell. You thinks I don’t know yous took my plate. Yous lucky she never died.”

  He frowned, “From scrying?”

  She put the plate down on the table and snapped at him, “Sam, that be my plate. It be tied to me. My power be in there. You put her power in there. Now it be her plate. Her magic is stronger. You ruined my plate. And yes, she coulda gone and died on all y’all. Witches scry after years of training.”

  He blushed, “Sorry Annabelle.”

  “What’s done is done is all. Eats the breakfast Sam before I gets mad. You shouldn’t have took my plate and you shouldn’t have took her to Giselle's.”

  He noticed things on the back counter floating. Annabelle angry meant the house would get trashed, which made Annabelle angrier. It was a lose-lose situation. Annabelle disappeared into the wall.

  He sat at the table as Sarah materialized. He smirked at her, “Hiding?”