Witch (Cursed book 4)

by Tara Brown

  His huge warm hand closed around hers. Her heart jumped.

  They flashed a few times, but the dirty feeling in the air was making her feel sick. She put a hand up, "I'm going to be sick if you do it again."

  He nodded, "Sorry, I forget not everyone is used to it."

  She fought a puke shiver, "I will never be used to that. So gross."

  Her heart was pounding in her chest. Suddenly, she felt a slice like a knife cut across her hand. She went to pull her hand from Sam's but his grip was intense, "Don’t let go."

  She looked up to see a group of women walking toward them, stretched across the road.

  'Lillith's daughter, interesting thing to find on the road, so far from anywhere.'

  She shivered as the voice rolled through her mind like the thunder in the clouds above, that had come from nowhere.

  'Why have you come, daughter of Lillith?'

  She stopped and stood her ground, "Uh, look my name is Ophelia. You can call me O or some variation of that, but I'm not digging Lillith's daughter much. I'm here for a spell."

  "You bring a siren with you?" a dark-haired woman with black eyes asked.

  A blonde, chubby lady next to her laughed, "Not just any siren, sister. He is nephilim, if I'm not mistaken."

  "I can smell that in the air. He smells like sex and chocolate. How can you stand to be near him?"

  "I'd eat a tasty little treat like that."

  They laughed.

  Ophelia looked at him and smiled. She couldn’t fight the blush that crossed her cheeks, even though she was terrified of the black witches.

  They didn’t look like black witches. They looked like a group of nice ladies, except that their eyes were filled with black. No whites and no colors, just black.

  They wore regular clothes and had their hair done nicely.

  Sam squeezed her hand.

  She turned and focused on the women.

  "I need a spell."

  The dark-haired woman stepped forward, "You have no business here."

  Ophelia felt her skin shiver. The threat lingered in the air.

  "I need something, surely you have a need."

  The dark-haired witch cocked her head and smirked at Sam. Ophelia felt her inner rage starting to rise up.

  "He is not a part of any bargain. What else can I give you?"

  "Blood."

  Ophelia frowned, "What?"

  Sam shook his head, "No, not hers but you can have mine."

  The dark-haired woman glanced back at the other twelve women. She sucked her teeth and nodded, "Deal."

  "I'll tell you the secret to the spell after we get the blood. You need to absorb the broken ends of the match. The other person he was in love with needs to be present. She has to offer you his blood and him hers. They need to offer you the blood bond. It must be done in a dark room or outdoors, where no guard is present. The shadows must be able to reach in and touch your soul."

  The chubby one grinned, "Risky move for a pure little girl like you. Your full magic hasn’t even come in yet."

  Ophelia felt Sam's grip tighten again. His fingers were cutting the circulation off.

  The dark-haired woman pulled a vial from her handbag and a knife from her huge hair. She said something over the vial. It swirled red, as if blood were already inside. Then suddenly it was clear again.

  Sam put his free hand out for them. She gripped it like a snake striking. She rubbed it over her chubby, sweaty face. Sam looked ready to gag but he held himself straight. She pulled his hand down to her level. She licked his palm making him flinch. She dragged the knife across his hand and then closed it tight into a fist. The blood dripped out quickly into the vial she held below.

  Her smile grew wicked and crazed as the blood filled.

  "You fucking idiots."

  The blonde hissed and stepped back.

  Ophelia looked to see Oliver walking down the road. She swooned seeing him in a white dress shirt, open slightly at the top, revealing a lot more tattoo and faded jeans. He wore his same weird loafers, but somehow, they made the outfit look classy. She looked up from his chest, and tattoos that teased her from beneath his white shirt, to see an angry face.

  "Give him back his blood."

  His English accent wasn’t helping Ophelia focus.

  Oliver looked at Sam's hand over hers and growled, "Give him back the fucking blood witch."

  His gaze could have ripped Sam apart, "You never give your blood to anyone freely you idiot. She could control you."

  The dark-haired witch smirked, "Dark brother, what say we share them? You can have the girl and we take the siren. No one needs to know."

  Oliver took a step toward her. The confused look on her face spoke volumes. She was doing magic on Oliver but it wasn’t working.

  He snatched the blood vial from her hands. She quickly licked at the spilled blood. It was disgusting to see."

  Sam looked calm but Ophelia knew he would be freaking out, if he could feel anything. She was freaking out. Oliver angry was hot and scary. She couldn’t take the situation seriously. Between Sam and Oliver, she was a mess. She noticed the other witches were the same though. They seemed to be affected as she was.

  They were more than taken with Sam. They were desperate to have him and his blood.

  Oliver shot daggers at Sam, "The castle."

  He never even got the sentence out and the three of them were standing in the front foyer of Giselle's.

  Ophelia looked at them, "We never got the secret."

  Oliver seethed, "Are you trying to get yourselves killed. I told you to find them. Not to give them your blood."

  Sam shrugged, "They wouldn’t give us the spell otherwise."

  Oliver raised an eyebrow, "That would be why I said wait, till I could take you."

  "What is going on? Why is he not chained up?"

  Oliver burst out laughing at Aimee's confused face, "You don’t really believe those stupid chains would hold me, do you? I came here to help and that’s what I'm trying to do. If you can stay alive long enough for me to be of some help." Oliver stormed off into the mansion.

  Aimee watched him walk past, "He let us think that would hold him? Where have you two been?"

  Sam looked at Hanna walking up to them, "Trying to fix my little problem."

  Ophelia felt defeated, "We never found out the end of the spell, Sam. I can't do it."

  Sam looked at her, "We scry."

  He continued to hold her hand and dragged her down the hallway. If she didn’t know any better, he was feeling something. He seemed annoyed or defeated.

  He dragged her to her room and started lighting candles. She dug out the purple bag where she kept the scrying plate. The bag that kept it had to be purple for protection. She thought maybe white, but Annabelle laughed at her and handed her the purple bag.

  She placed it on the table, where the chairs were by the fireplace. Sam closed the curtains and flashed in front of her with a glass of water. She poured the water and knelt before the plate. She let her mind clear. Oliver attempted at climbing into her thoughts but she pushed him away. When her mind was blank the bottom fell away from the scrying plate. She watched the water start to churn. The waves grew and started lapping over the edges of the plate, spilling onto the wooden table. A mist covered the plate, as if hiding the answers from her. She blew the mist aside to reveal a crystal-clear picture.

  Three women sat in a small clearing. They looked up to a full moon. One woman pulled a small blade from a sheet she had wrapped with tools in it. She dragged the knife across each of the other people's hands, and poured the blood into a goblet. She poured red wine into the goblet and cut her own hand. She squeezed her hand over the goblet. She dragged the bloody hands against each other and squeezed. Blood droplets fell onto a red pillow.

  They each took a turn drinking from the glass. The flames of the candle rose with every sip from the goblet of blood and wine. The woman with the knife placed it on the red pillow and wrapped it up agai
n. She lifted the package up and walked away from the two women sitting in the clearing.

  The picture turned dark and fuzzy for a moment. Then it showed the woman holding the wrapped sheet with the pillow and the knife. She was in a dark cloak with her head down. She walked with purpose while trying to remain hidden. She looked around as she walked to a window of a house, on the side of a street. Inside of the window, a young man and woman were kissing and holding a baby.

  She watched them for a moment and then took the sheet to the front door of the house. She knocked at the door and placed the sheet on the ground. She ran and hid in the shadows. The man came to the door and opened it. He looked around and picked up the sheet. He unwrapped it to find the knife and the pillow. Suddenly, he looked lost. The spell sucked his will from him. He looked back at the door and closed it. He walked away from the house, carrying the pillow and the knife. He left his wife and his baby. Ophelia knew that was what was happening. The water went choppy again.

  "We have to sacrifice a happy love to save you."

  "What?"

  "The secret is that we have to take the things we use for the spell, and leave them for an innocent couple to find and ruin their love."

  She looked back at Sam who nodded and slumped into the chair next to her, "Christ. That’s bleak. Whose lives do we chose?"

  She shook her head, "No clue."

  She watched him, "You know you will love me though, right?"

  He looked at her, "I'd rather love you, even if you don’t feel the same, than be this. I feel nothing beyond a bit of confusion or frustration at times." He ran a hand through his hair making it spiky. She smiled at him. She could think of far worse fates than Sam being madly in love with her forever.

  "When is the full moon?"

  He blinked at her, "Tonight."

  She laughed, "Of course it is."

  "What do we need?"

  She shrugged, "Knife, goblet, sheet, red pillow, me, you, and Hanna."

  He nodded, "I'll get everything. Meet you back here?"

  She shook her head, "The big rock garden."

  He was gone before he could answer. She felt empty. She wasn’t sure why.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sam

  "I need you."

  Hanna looked up at him; she almost smiled for a second but then stopped herself. She rose from the chair fluidly.

  "For what?"

  He felt his gaze grow serious, "How much do you love me? Like for real love?"

  She nodded, "More than anything."

  "Would you sacrifice our love to fix me? It's part of the solution."

  She paused before she nodded, "I would."

  He put his hand out for her to take. She took it and they were in the rock garden outside, instantly.

  She looked confused. He squeezed her hand.

  "Hey." He walked pulling her along to where Ophelia sat with a blanket.

  She looked miserable, "Hey." She looked at their hands together. Sam dropped Hanna's hand and sat down.

  Hanna sat down on the blanket. She looked at them both, "What's the plan?"

  Ophelia swallowed hard, "I am going to take the bond from you both; you have to give it to me willingly."

  Hanna frowned, "What will you do with it?"

  Ophelia squirmed, "Repair it."

  "Then?"

  "Then I keep it. Sam will be matched to me. Only one-sided, but at least he will have all his emotions back."

  Hanna looked down, "Will he ever get over you?"

  Ophelia shrugged, "I don’t know."

  Hanna looked up at Sam and nodded back a tear, "Let’s do it."

  Sam knew all of it was far more than she deserved to suffer. She hadn’t done anything that wrong. The image of the man groping her bothered him still, but it didn’t seem like the big deal he had made it. Her words burned inside of him, but it too, wasn’t the do-all end-all of the world. He wished he could take it all back.

  Ophelia lit the candles and pulled out the red pillow, goblet, and knife. She looked focused. She took Sam's hand and dragged the knife across it. It stung slightly.

  She did the same to Hanna who made a brave face. Ophelia squeezed Hanna's hand over the goblet and then his. She poured wine in and then cut her own hand. She rubbed their hands together and let the mixed blood drip onto the red pillow. They each took a turn drinking the blood.

  He watched as dark shadows from the moon’s light crept along the ground like snakes.

  "Ophelia, what is that?"

  She looked scared as they swirled their way up her legs. Her lower lip trembled as they made their way up her stomach and vanished. She gasped and shook her head.

  When she opened her eyes, they were solid black but stars sparkled from them. A calm smile crept across her face. It was disturbing.

  Ophelia took the knife and the red pillow and bound them up in a package. She got up and left them there.

  Sam looked at Hanna who stared at the wine glass.

  "I want to say how sorry I am. Now that the anger is gone from it all, I really think I overreacted Hanna."

  She looked crushed, "Don’t say that. Please don’t make this be for nothing, Sam. My heart is broken and I don’t know how to fix it."

  He nodded, "I know. I think you should ask Roland; he knows stuff."

  She got up from the blanket and walked away.

  Sam felt sick suddenly. He couldn’t fight it, he was nauseas. He couldn’t flash.

  He stumbled away from the blanket to the inside of the house. He made it inside when everything went black.

  xxxx

  He woke to Aimee next to him. She stroked his face.

  He frowned, "What are you doing?"

  "I found you. I get to keep you."

  He laughed and then winced, "I'm in agony again. I'm thinking Ophelia might have messed it up."

  "Stop being a baby. At least you can feel the pain."

  Sam smiled, "I can feel something else."

  She frowned.

  He laughed, "I'm fucking annoyed with you right now."

  Aimee giggled, "Yay. Can we go back to being the friends where you sympathize with me and my sadness over breakups? I kind of missed you having a heart. Or sarcasm."

  He sighed, "Sweet friggin’ God, Aims—I don’t want to talk about it anymore."

  She squealed and hugged him, "You are back."

  He laughed and felt joy for the first time in what felt like ages. He thought about Hanna, but nothing but wounded pride and a slight amount of anger floated around in him. He thought about Ophelia and nothing. He looked at Aimee and smiled, "I'm free." He let his head rest on the bed next to her. "I feel like I've fought a battle and haven’t slept in ages."

  She kissed his forehead, "Sleep now. I won’t leave you. Just in case the horrid, heartless other you comes back and tries to take over."

  Sam smirked and rolled on his side trying not to wince in pain, "You kick his ass if he comes back, Aims. Kick it hard."

  Her eyes glossed, "Sam, no one knows what it's like to sink into a pit of despair like me. You've got to have someone there to pull you out."

  He remembered her stories about the days before Aleks and how sad she was. He fell asleep feeling sad and not for himself.

  xxxx

  He woke again feeling groggy, but the pains that had been burning through him were gone. He looked around the room for Aimee, but he was alone. He got up and stretched. He felt a hunger he hadn’t felt in ages. His need was strong. He could feel it on himself. He pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt and stumbled out to find food.

  A blur shot past him in the hall, and suddenly his back was slammed into the plaster of the wall. A warm mouth pressed against his neck. Savagely a dark head of hair nuzzled into him. He tried to pull back but she slammed him into the wall again. Her warm lips caressed his throat. He shoved hard and flashed.

  Giselle stood at the end of the hall he had just left. Blood trickled down his throat. She licked her lips. He could see the
black eyes from where he stood. He put a hand out, "Giselle, calm down."

  She snarled at him, "Come here, Sam."

  He flashed to the kitchen where Aimee sat staring out the window. She glanced back at him and smiled, "Hey, look who's awake. How are you feeling?" She frowned at the dark blood running down his neck where his hand was.

  He scowled, "Giselle."

  She raised an eyebrow, "Did she just blood rape you?" She sniffed the air around him, "That is pretty unbearable, Sam. What is that?"

  He shook his head, "Nothing."

  "Doesn’t smell like nothing." She got up from her seat, grinning.

  He took a step back, "Aims, for Christ sake, not now."

  She nodded, "I want it now."

  He flashed to Lydia's. She was stirring a cup of tea in the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose, "Oh Sam. Come on. Take care of that."

  He sat at the table, "I can't."

  She smiled, "Wait, if you're emitting that, then you must feel again?"

  He glanced up at her old face and bit his lip. He nodded.

  Her face dropped, "Did you go find the black witches?"

  His eyes darted to the table. He lowered his head in shame. He had no idea whose marriage Ophelia ruined to save him. He felt sick when he thought about it.

  "Sam."

  "Went to Lillian. They gave us the spell."

  She dropped the cup of tea, "Sam, what have you done?"

  He shook his head, "Nothing."

  "Who did Ophelia push the heartbreak on?"

  She sat across from him. He couldn’t meet her gaze.

  "I don’t know. She just took it and left."

  She put her hands over her face, "Oh honey. What have you done? Your feelings for Ophelia will be so intense Sam. Her being a witch they will push onto her. You'll force her to love you."

  He looked down, "When I think about her, I don’t feel anything."

  She sighed, "Babe, you haven’t seen her since she gave away the broken heart, have you?"

  He shook his head.

  "Oh goodness."

  He looked up to her frightened face, "Can you help?"

  She shook her head, "No honey."

  "Can I stay here?"