by Mathew Ortiz
“I need to hold on to you. If you don’t mind, I’ll just hook my finger into your belt loop.”
“Is it gonna hurt?” Way to lose cool points, Temple!
Millhouse laughed. “No, it doesn’t hurt. You might be disoriented after each jaunt. I figure it will take at least five. When we come out of the jaunt, breathe deeply. It will clear your head.” Millhouse’s finger grabbed him and he asked. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Steeling himself, he waited. The last second before the world went kablooey, he saw Donovan mouth at him, you dog!
***
Hannah Harrington-Brooks closed the door to Harrington Construction’s main office and tapped the key fob, activating the alarm. Tilting her head to the door, she listened for the beeping to stop. Once it did, she knew the alarm was on and she was free. Thank God! If she had to spend another minute in the office with her father and brother she was going to throw herself off Demie Cliff.
Over the last few months, their father, the man who was supposed to have been retiring, had come back into the business in the worst way. Rush had finally found his footing and had pulled in some major contracts when their father came crashing in. The work done on the Oswald Estate had been featured in several magazines. Between that and word of mouth, Rush had started work on the Richmond House, a full renovation. He got the contract to renovate the Gilmore Hotel in downtown Maquintock Bay and the full construction rights to a new subdivision south of the town.
Those three contracts would keep the company busy for at least two years and bring in some major capital. One would think that their father would be proud of Rush, but nope, not their father. Hannah knew their father still held it against William and his family for all the sorrow that had befallen theirs. The curse had been lifted, but the memories remained. Their ancestor had hung for witchcraft the three teenage sons of Nellie and Robert Oswald. The oldest boy, Willie Oswald, had cursed the Harrington family to decay and ruination. Nothing powers a spell better than the fear and rage of impending death. The curse was potent.
Over the next three hundred years the Harringtons had suffered. Miscarriages, early deaths, and accidents claiming life after life had whittled the family down to a small number. Combine that with the fact that the family never had a success that wasn’t marred by tragedy. When Rush met William, had the town been abuzz with gossip! Sworn enemies for generations, the scandal they created was epic. Rush and William had thumbed their noses at the town and their families and had fallen hopelessly in love.
Hannah smiled as she walked to her car. Boy, had her brother fallen. After the car accident that had taken his leg and nearly killed him, her brother had sunk into a deep depression. It had taken years for him to dig out of it, and he was in a good place when William Blackthorne blew into his life.
Her controlling, take-charge, former Marine brother had taken one look at William Blackthorne and lost his heart. Seeing them together was a testament to love conquering all. Both families were against the two men dating, much less building a life together. When William told his family Rush was his bondmate, all hell broke loose. Their father was apoplectic. Through all of it they held onto each other, their love growing each day. Sometimes when Rush looked at William, the love in his eyes made a lump form in Hannah’s throat. She was so happy for him, for both of them. Everyone came around eventually…save their father.
Their father had demanded Rush leave William. Rush all but laughed in his face, and since then, their father had been slowly getting back into the business, even though he was supposedly retired. From day one, he was undermining Rush’s authority, and the business was suffering. Half the crew was loyal to the senior Harrington, and the other half was loyal to her brother. It was causing in fighting and delays, and it was all coming to a head. Because of their father’s interference, a shipment of tile, which had been signed off on, had been changed at the last minute. The change had put all the trades behind, and Rush had been livid. His father had contacted the tile company and demanded a different tile. When the trades complained, Ford Harrington had blamed his son for mismanaging his trades.
Hannah sighed. William had come to her privately and asked her if she follow her brother or her father if he backed Rush with the startup capital. Cringing, she knew who she would go with Rush. Hannah was more concerned about her mother. Virginia agreed with her that her father was being a huge asshole, but he was still her mother’s husband.
She was about to open her car door when she heard someone calling her name. Turning, she saw Grace Miller, Margaret Oswald’s daughter, hurrying toward her. Hannah had met Grace several times at William and Rush’s. Grace looked so much like her mother save for the black hair. They both had the same blue eyes, except Grace’s were warm and kind. Margaret’s were cool, like she was always assessing the situation to turn things to her advantage. Polar opposites couldn’t begin to describe how different the two were in personality. Margaret was a force of nature. Grace was a kind shoulder to cry on. Both were strong women in their own individual ways, and Hannah loved watching the two fuss at each other.
“Hi, Grace.” Hannah leaned on her car as Graced hurried toward her.
“Oh, thank goodness I saw you! My car broke down. Can you give me a lift to my house?” Grace’s porcelain face was flushed from her running.
“Sure. What about your car?”
“Alvin from Runchies Garage said he’d have it fixed for me in the morning. I was late getting out from work and ta-da! Dead car.”
“Hop in.” Hannah unlocked the doors, and Grace went around to the passenger side and got in. Hannah cranked the engine and backed out of her spot. Turning on Wymore Street, she headed to Beechmont, which would take them to Grace’s home. Thankfully it was on the way to her own house, so she wouldn’t be too late.
“What’s wrong with your car? You just bought it.”
Grace’s mouth tightened. “It was vandalized. Part of the motor was removed.”
Hannah sat stunned as she steered the car through the back roads of town. “Did you report it to the sheriff’s office?”
“No.”
“Why not!”
“He’s a Van Patton.”
“Damn. I’m sorry. I forgot Brian was descended from those Van Pattons.”
“Yep. While Willie Oswald’s curse didn’t affect his family, the Oswalds rained hell down on the Van Pattons. Something that had not been forgiven despite all the good my family has tried to do over the last few years.” Grace nibbled on her fingernail.
“Who did it?”
“Those Milbury boys.” Grace’s eye blazed hot, and Hannah smirked.
“What?” Grace scrunched up her nose at her.
“Thought for sure you’d do a little witchy-poo on their delinquent asses.”
Grace giggled. “Don’t think I didn’t want to.” Sighing, she leaned against the car window. “I promised myself I wouldn’t use magic for personal gain.”
“Even if the little shits deserve it?”
“Even if those inbred, gap-toothed Neanderthals deserve it,” Grace said, and they looked at each other before breaking out into more giggles. Grace grew quieter and said, “I watched my mother hex, curse, and charm anyone who got in her way. I promised myself I wouldn’t do that.”
“How’s that working for you?”
“Six days clean.”
Hannah laughed so hard, she thought she was going to pee herself. “Do you get a pin for that in Magiks Anonymous?”
Grace snorted. “No…it has to be a week.”
“They learn that crap from their parents.” Hannah said and turned onto Fiona Road. It would take her to the road to Blackmoor Priory.
“I know. I had hoped people would be seeing us in a different light, thanks in no small part to William and Rush. But so much still goes wrong.”
“Do you think that curse is still hanging around?” Hannah asked in a hushed tone.
“Why are you whispering?”
“I d
on’t know!” Hannah retorted, and they both laughed.
“I wonder at times. Two of the three have been broken. Since Rush saved William’s life, the curse on the Harringtons has lifted. Four family members’ health has improved, and business is booming. But then there’s Duncan…” Trailing off, Hannah knew what had happened to Duncan, and it made her blood run cold.
“The curse was broken. Ezekiel saved Duncan. It just didn’t end like they hoped.” Grace whisked away an errant tear.
“The last one is the curse on Maquintock Bay. May it only know ruination.” Hannah turned right and drove down the tree-lined road. It was full summer, and the trees ruffled in the breeze. New England in the summer was beautifully verdant, and Hannah loved this time of year.
“Yep. Thankfully, young Oliver Oswald hadn’t come into his full power yet. As it stands, the town has done okay.”
“Aside from the fire that burned down the new high school. The time the public pool had Cloistrum Difficile and everyone got the Hershey squirts. Or how about when the new suspension bridge collapsed and forty-four people fell twenty feet into the Hanchitock River?”
“And that covered the magical news for 2013. Over to you, George and Robin.” Using her best newscaster voice, the deeper baritone was odd coming from Grace. Hannah snickered.
“All I’m saying is that it’s easy to blame the Oswalds for everything. Things are changing, Grace.”
“I hope so. Hang on a sec—”
Hannah watched from the corner of her eye and saw Grace mumbling. An odd tingling swirled around the inside of the car. Grace stopped and gave Hannah a quirky smile.
“Aw, you fell off the wagon.”
“What can I say? I’m weak.” Grace’s grin turned devious.
“Can I ask what--?”
“You know how you kept mentioning the power squirts—”
Understanding dawned. “Oh, my God!
“Yep. If I did it right, it should hit the Millbury boys tomorrow when they’re in class right around fourth period.” The grin deepened.
“Diabolical! Hey, I have an ex that lives down in Schenectady.” Both women were roaring with laughter as Hannah pulled into the main drive of Blackmoor Priory.
***
Oliver gulped a lungful of air and attempted to control his breathing. His morning runs were still taxing, but he needed to shed some poundage. Holiday feasting and, truth be told, his love of oatmeal cream pies had added more to his stomach than he cared to admit. Four weeks ago he had tried on some of his summer shorts, and they were all too tight. Granted, he was never going to be skinny like Duncan. Duncan was built like their mother, thin and rangy. He and William took after their father, thick and muscled. Rugby helped keep him in shape, but practice was not going to start for a few more weeks. If he didn’t shed some fat, the guys on the team were going to start calling him bouncy house again like they did when he first started playing. His weight seemed to settle in this gut and butt. Not a bad thing, mind you; however, running along the field with the other guys was exhausting, and he was way too competitive not to be able to keep up with the others.
His shorts clung to his sweaty thighs, and the thin shirt was nearly transparent. He was proud of himself. He had done three miles and hadn’t stopped. It also cleared out his head. The appearance of the wolf shifter Donovan Temple and the realization that he was Oliver’s bondmate had been a big pill to swallow. Never had he thought that of all the people in the world, his intended was wolf! My life is way too complicated for this now. I can’t even contemplate a bondmate or a bonding right now. I have the Ascension Trials soon, and I have to practice. Nope, not a good time to begin a possible romance. Hell, that’s if that mangy mutt even wants one. More likely he just wants a quick fuck and duck.
Oliver bounded up the back steps, crossed the patio, and entered the breakfast nook via the French door. His running shoes squeaked on the tile floor of the kitchen as he snagged a bottle of water from the fridge. Cracking open the top, he chugged back a mouth full, enjoying the tightening pain of cold water down an overheated throat.
Burping, Oliver walked out of the kitchen and through the main entry. As he was about to climb the stairs a figure caught his eye through the open door of the library. Changing course, he strode in. Duncan was staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the bay. The day was glorious and bright, with no clouds in the sky and the sun shining. Somehow, he doubted his brother even noticed it. Oliver came closer and into Duncan’s sight line. Blue eyes met his own blue-green ones, and Oliver saw a hollowness that made him ache.
“Hi, Duncan. What’s up?” Damn that sounded lame!
“Hey, Ollie. Nothing, doing nothing. Just sitting here.” Duncan’s gaze returned to the windows. “I come here to be alone and think.”
Oliver sat on the hassock and set his water down. “’Bout what?”
Duncan’s face remained empty. “About life. My life here at Oswald House. About how happy William and Rush are. About how I’m not sure if I’ll ever have that with Zeke gone.” He pulled his legs up and tucked them under himself. “Some days I’m fine. Other times… I can’t explain it. I get this heaviness in my chest. A void where he was, and it’s growing. It physically hurts.”
“Aw, D. Can—“
“No, no sympathy or pity. I guess I’m not meant to be in love or be loved. I don’t know.” Duncan raked his hand through his hair. “Please don’t think I’m crazy, but when I’m working at the Library of the Dead, practicing Remembering with my instructors, I can’t feel. It’s like when he crossed over, he took my soul with him. I’m a shell, and I try to find him, but I can’t. I crave a warmth I can’t reach. It haunts me. My dreams aren’t much better. I see Zeke every night, but can’t touch him. His voice calls to me, and I can’t answer. When I wake up, I’m crying, and I grieve all over again and have to face another day without him.”
The longing in his voice made Oliver’s guilt even worse. Aunt Margaret warned them about his. Even with him, William, and Jaime doing their best to cajole and support him, Duncan’s love for Zeke was so strong, he was unable to forget and move on. Every day his brother withered away more and more. Nothing they did seemed to stop it. Duncan lived as a shadow of his former self. Duncan was dying, tumbling toward the abyss.
“I’m being maudlin. My bondmate is gone, and the days ahead without him are too much to bear. Listen to me, I don’t know why all the purple prose but…” He turned and fixed Oliver with a hard stare. “The wolf is your bondmate, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I think…no, I know he is.” No sense lying to Duncan.
“Then why aren’t you with him?”
“I’m not ready for a relationship. Rory—“
Duncan’s face hardened, and the temperature rose in the room. Since that night they cast the spell, Duncan’s fire had barely manifested itself. The emotions that once fed it were no longer there. He had only used his fire a few times since then, and the power level was significantly lower than before. The fact that his power was warming the room was unsettling.
“I am so tired of hearing that. You and Rory broke up months ago. I know it hurt, Oliver. It always does when you love someone. Rory left so he wouldn’t be in the way of you finding your one true love. Your bondmate is here. Here! And you aren’t with him. How stupid are you? Don’t you see how fucking happy William and Rush are? I mean, William, Captain Asshole, dickhead extraordinaire is so ridiculously happy. They can’t be in the same room without touching each other. Don’t you want that? I know I would! To have someone whose thoughts are with you and whose love comforts you? I would kill for that!”
“It’s not that simple, bro. He’s a wolf shifter, and I’m a witch. It wouldn’t work. I—”
“Bullshit. Utter bullshit. I’d rather have that kind of wonderful than anything else. I’d give up my powers, being a witch, being an Oswald, everything, to be loved like that, to be with Zeke again. I’d sell my soul.” The ferocity in his brother’s voice stunned him. Duncan ab
ruptly stood and glowered at him.
“I—”
“Bullshit. You have a chance at love. And all you’re doing is blowing smoke up your own ass.” Duncan stomped off, a whoosh of hot air trailing him.
The roses in the vase beside Oliver drooped from the heat, and he was sweating anew. Duncan was right. He was being stupid. So fucking stupid.
***
They scrabbled over each other in the darkness. The reeking stench of feces and urine created a miasma of decay that would make an ordinary human vomit. It, however, found the smell delightfully delicious. The creature wove amidst the throng of undulating bodies. Once or twice one of them would snap its teeth at it. One brave one actually came close and tried to bite it. The monster’s clawed hand snaked out and closed around the ghoul’s throat. A quick twist and the head tore from the ghoul’s body, tissue rending and bone parting from cartilage. The body collapsed, and the others fell on it, consuming the pale, filthy body. The slurping and gnashing of teeth on bone filled the air as the creature walked past the feeding frenzy. It flicked its wrist, and a globe of floating light popped into existence.
The catacomb halls flowed from every direction. The creature smiled nastily to itself. The Oswalds had forgotten all about them. Abandoned for years, the dark halls had become home to a clan of ghouls that had been breeding for years. Its gurgling laugh echoed in the darkness. No one had bothered to wonder why people disappeared along the main highway for the last decade or more. If the humans had been more perceptive, they would have noticed the ground in their cemeteries was depressed, and invariably the Supernature would instantly know the graves had been robbed and the corpses consumed by the growing ghoul clan.
The monster had decided to use a different tactic. Instead of using intelligent minions, it found the ghouls to be so much more pliable. They bent to its will with surprising ease. It had commanded them to dig, to clear out the rubble that had clogged the passageways to the Oswald House. They were so close, mere yards from breaking through to the lower basement of the house. In was only a matter of days, perhaps a week or more and once there, the ghouls would spill into the house when the darkness fell. The ghouls would overrun the witches and kill the entire household. Then the creature would have no one in its way. The Supernature would fall before it.
