If Wishes Were Curses

by Janeen Ippolito

  I shook off the guilt. Cendric had moved first. Still, apologetic words escaped my lips. “Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it—”

  “It isn’t complicated. I was attacked and assumed I would die. I awoke a vampire and discovered destiny had other plans for me.”

  I frowned, thinking back to the grizzly. “You don’t feel like a vampire. You’re not all cold and bloodlusty like the grizzly shifter was.”

  “I’m very well controlled.” His eyes turned dark and glinted dangerously for a moment. But before I could ask anything more, the danger vanished with his more usual friendliness. “And I suspect that bear-shifter was something entirely different.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m not sure. We’ll need to investigate further.”

  We? So I’d have to spend more time with a vampire. Oddly enough, I wasn’t frightened. Even though I should have been. Maybe I really did have a suicidal edge still. “So, are you all vampire then? Or are you a raven-shifter?”

  Grief shadowed his face, along with a keen loneliness that echoed my own. “I am capable of shifting, after a fashion. I still sense that part of me, in my soul. But for all practical purposes, I’m considered a vampire.”

  My tone softened. “Your flock kicked you out.”

  “Ravens value logical choices over family ties. And they would say that logically, I am no longer family. I lack sufficient blood ties. They rejected me quite a while ago.”

  I winced. “Well, at least you had family before you lost them. Better to have loved and lost than—”

  “Never to have loved at all?” He shook his head. “Sometimes, perhaps. I used to think so. And I wouldn’t trade my memories for the world. But at times, all I wish is to have is that companionship once more.”

  Wish granted. But I didn’t speak it aloud, even though I didn’t think thoughts counted. Not that I knew anything about wish-granting. Kiran never even told me anything much, just helped me refine my minor magic a bit.

  Sadness still clouded Cendric’s face. I didn’t like it there. Time to make it go away.

  “So, vampire, huh? You have fangs and all?”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth. The only reason I paid attention to his tongue was to see if it, too, was pierced.

  It wasn’t.

  Ahem.

  “Yes, the teeth are real.” Cendric shot me a knowing look. “And fully functional.”

  I waggled my eyebrows. “Should I be worried?”

  “Hardly. I don’t drink from humans.”

  “Handing out the blood bags, huh? Or draining animals?”

  “Actually, I oversee the growth of a synthetic substitute in a private laboratory. Human blood is still from humans, and animal blood can be harder to come by, especially in the city. Besides, it quickly becomes messy.” His lips quirked. “You don’t seem disturbed by any of this.”

  “Actually, that’s all very clever.” I couldn’t deny that the whole scientific part made him even more attractive.

  “Ravens are known for such.”

  I shrugged. “Well, you make smarts look good.” What did that even mean? Too late, I’d said it. Had to run with it. “So, is that why you want these cold fries? Some weird leftover bird urge?”

  “Perhaps. Or maybe I just have better taste in food than you do.”

  “Oh, burn. Well here, you can have them.”

  I held out the paper plate to him. Then large wings flapped from above, and a dark shadow descended toward the congealed mass, expertly aimed between me and Cendric.

  “Ack!” I jumped up and ran from the feathered menace, dumping the whole plate into the nearest trash can. My chest heaved.

  Yes, I’d just run from a freaking bird. It hadn’t been a great day or a great week. Or a great month. Give a girl a break.

  Laughter sounded from the bench. I strode back, trying to look like I hadn’t just fled from a raven who only wanted my fries. It didn’t help that the bird had landed next to Cendric and was laughing as well.

  The vampire’s shoulders shook. “And people say I’m dramatic.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m dramatic. Just highly random in a focused way.” I flopped onto the bench next to him and glared at the bird. “Magical friend of yours?”

  “Of a sort. This is Edgar, an entirely normal raven that I rescued twenty years ago.”

  “Edgar? Really?”

  Cendric shrugged, stroking the bird’s head. “I do actually enjoy Poe.”

  “Nevermore,” croaked the raven, and it flew off.

  “Yeah, me too.” Could that have been the same bird I’d seen the night of the attack? Nah. Too much of a coincidence. Finally, I let out a chuckle. “Okay, well. You’ve shown me your mark. I guess it’s fair that I show you mine.”

  I unbuttoned my shirt and slid it down just enough to reveal a mark on my shoulder.

  Shadowy gray, like his, only in the shape of a flame. “My father was a genie of some kind.”

  “Interesting. May I examine it further?”

  “Sure, I don’t mind.” What? How did I not mind? The touching of the Allis was only allowed to close friends and family. Or when I was luring in a target. Or when it was unavoidable, like in a club. All right, so I had a number of exceptions. But allowing a near-stranger to do it for no reason was weird as hell.

  But Cendric didn’t feel like a near-stranger. I didn’t flinch when he turned toward me and lightly traced the grayling mark with a finger. A shudder went through me, but that was for a different reason. I was one hundred percent sure that not only did I want him touching me, but I missed it.

  I needed it.

  “Hmm.” He straightened, his expression thoughtful. He kept close to me, fingers still stroking the freckles on my shoulder. “That isn’t a common mark for an everyday wish granter. Not at all.”

  “Great. Another reason I’m a freak. What kind of mark is it?”

  He opened his mouth, then hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s similar to Fae with fire magic, like firebirds and cherufe. But not, at the same time. The shape is peculiar.”

  I slid my button-down back over my shoulder. “You’re not making me feel any better, Cid. I already had to deal with the grizzly shifter trying to kill me. It was aiming for me too. Craving my blood.”

  He nodded. “Ah yes. I remembered that some genies can sense fears and desires. What have you been doing since your arrest? And what was the full situation?”

  I sighed. If he was going to try and help me, he needed to know. So I went through the whole story in sarcastic, colorful detail, with more than a few hand gestures. And Cendric was a good audience, reacting and asking questions at just the right moments.

  It almost made it fun, all the while knowing that he was taking me seriously. Where had this guy been all my life? Well, I mean, I hadn’t exactly been looking for a vampire lawyer with the soul of a raven shifter.

  “So you’ve been trapped inside these past few weeks? That’s terrible.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I get out for cleaning houses. Occasionally my brother Gideon and I get takeout on the way home.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Well, my brother and I have this crazy idea to open this shop. He makes potions and stuff on the side, and I help him. And I do matchmaking and some romantic investigation on the side, and he helps me. So we thought we could combine it.”

  He nodded. “Why matchmaking? And why romance?”

  “We-ell … that has to do with our mom. Long and short of it, she was screwed over in romance by Fae. And Gideon and I have seen others get the same treatment. I want to help those humans.”

  “Interesting.”

  “But it wasn’t going so great. I was hitting major planning road blocks. So after getting completely depressed being stuck inside, I came down here. Figured I could at least get french fries.”

  “That you didn’t eat.” He turned to face me, his voice soft. “You never eat when you’re anxious and can’t solve problems.”
/>
  “Right. Wait, how did you know that?” I swallowed.

  “I don’t know. Maybe…” Cendric studied my curse-marks again. He trailed his fingers across the metallic mark on my left arm. “I recognize this curse-mark. A standard magic tracking beacon in the form of a tattoo. But this one,” he gestured to the swirls on both arms. “I’ve never seen this one. And yet … it seems familiar. It’s far more powerful, with the design spread across this much skin area. Designed for multiple uses.”

  “Yeah. I told you I’m apparently toxic.” Bitterness crept into my voice. “That curse-mark blocks the majority of my magic and makes it impossible for me to find true love.”

  He looked up at me sharply. “Really?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Nah, I made that last part up. Although it would be a great excuse for my pathetic love life. And I do know the Fae Powers That Be were really unhappy that my parents fell in love and procreated.” I laughed shortly, pulling my arm away and rubbing the mark. It had started to itch fiercely again. “Alas, my silly paranoia doesn’t really matter much. The curse-mark blocks my magic because my mom decided she was going to give birth to me, and for some reason, that scared a lot of Fae.”

  “So they’re punishing you preemptively?” Cendric glared at the mark.

  “The gift goes on. My mom got screwed over. They pass it on to me.”

  “They shouldn’t have. I can’t believe Queen Epriana would allow it.”

  I pulled back from him. “It’s Fae. You think they’re your friend one minute, and the next, they turn on you. Unspoken can be just as bad.”

  He grimaced. “Is that really what you think of all of us?”

  “Well, not you. You seem all right.” You’re incredible. I squelched the thought before I could say it. “Maybe one or two others. But the rest? They’d rather me dead.”

  Cendric shook his head. “The magisphere is dark, but there are still good people within it. Fae and Unspoken.”

  “Yeah, sure. Except that y’all fought in the Blood Wars a hundred years ago. Real good. The magical world poking itself in the eyeball with spikes. Didn’t that fiasco reduce the Fae and Unspoken population worldwide by eighty percent?”

  “Well, yes. But one tragic conflict doesn’t define the races. If that were the case, humanity would be doomed.”

  “What’s to stop the Blood Wars from happening again?”

  His expression turned grave. “One safeguard is blood binders like myself, stepping in to adjudicate interracial and relational crimes. As I said earlier.”

  I winced. “Ah. Yeah, I forgot. Good for you.”

  “And your exclusion from Fae culture doesn’t mean the entire magisphere is toxic. Wild and dangerous and beautiful, yes. But you could say the same for yourself.”

  Wild? Dangerous? Beautiful? Me? Hah. “Talk to the curse-marks, dude. I’ve never even been allowed in the magisphere.”

  Cendric scowled. “Yes, you have been treated abhorrently. That is clear.”

  “Can you do something about it?”

  “Yes, I can. I will.” He took my hands in his. “I have some ideas and methods, but I need to study more so the curse can be broken properly.”

  I nodded. “More time? I’m used to that.”

  “Allis, I give you my word.” His voice turned completely serious. Something deep and true shone out of his eyes. A part of me sensed what it was, but the rest of me was too cynical to believe it. “I’m not going to rest until I free you from this curse and show you how worthy you are.”

  I blinked. Was this guy for real? I stared at him again, waiting for him to burst into laughter or to blink or something.

  Nope. He was completely legit. And to be honest, it was kinda nice. Also, weird. I had absolutely no idea how to respond to a declaration that came out of a movie. Literally. Nothing came to me except profound relief with a side of skepticism. It took everything I had not to throw my arms around Cendric and hold him close.

  What was wrong with me?

  I cleared my throat. “Okay. Cool. Seriously, do you come up with speeches like that in your sleep? Or have a script you memorize somewhere? Not that I doubt your sincerity, but … wow. You should win an Oscar or something.”

  The vampire returned my grin with an over-the-top roguish expression. “Another moment for the pamphlets?”

  “No, I think that would send the wrong message to your clients. Unless you were trying to propose to every single person, which I’ve heard works for some cults.”

  “So now I’m a cult leader.”

  “You work at a vampire law firm.” I shrugged. “Although you could totally work the speech into a kiss-a-gram routine.”

  Cendric leaned forward. “So, does that mean you want to kiss me?”

  Um, completely. But if I said that, we might actually do it. A lot. And my mouth was watering for another reason. My stomach growled in anger over the uneaten french fries. “How about you buy me some more food first? The curse-mark is important, but without food, I might start cursing myself.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that. I know of a few good restaurants nearby.”

  “You can eat real food?”

  Irritation threaded his voice. “The part of me that is raven compensates enough. I can drink blood for nourishment, but I can also eat regular food. Consider me the world’s first and only healthy vampire that I know of.”

  “So this is like a date?”

  He shrugged. “Yes. Also, a way to keep you safe. You’re being targeted by shifters, yet you’re walking around without a single weapon.”

  “Usually, I teleport myself. Or teleport in weapons.”

  “But you’re attempting to honor the ban on teleportation. Just how were you planning on defending yourself if you were confronted by shifters?”

  “Run!”

  “What if they cornered you?”

  My brain skittered around for answers. “I do know some self-defense. Hapkido and

  stuff.”

  “And you would use it in flip-flops against full-blooded Fae who are stronger, faster, and can use their full magic?”

  “Shut up and feed me, vampire.”

  “So now you’re the boss of me?” His eyes glinted.

  “Sure!”

  We stood up, I grabbed my jacked, and we headed off, our hands somehow already entwined. And it felt right. Natural. Like I’d done it a bunch of times before, even though my last boyfriend had been a tall, dark, and quietly snarky genie, not a tall, pale, and aggressively outgoing vampire.

  My heart pounded. This was crazy. But I didn’t want it to stop. I felt the same energy from him. Like if when we lost sight of each other, we’d lose each other. And lose something precious along the way.

  Plus, Cid had a point about my complete inability to defend myself right now. I should have at least brought my pistols. Although where I would have stuck them was beyond me. Just because the city allowed open carry didn’t mean I was comfortable with it personally.

  The arcade caught my eye, filled with all kinds of ticket-winning games and video games. I felt in my purse. Yes, I still had some tickets from the last time I’d played. And the arcade had a concession stand.

  “Hey, do you like skee-ball?”

  “Actually, yes.” He followed my gaze. “Although the pizza here is terrible. And I should warn you that one of the machines—”

  “Randomly swallows your quarters and shuts down. Another never lets you go above a hundred and twenty.” I tilted my head to the side. “I wouldn’t have figured you for an arcade guy, Cid. Especially not at a chintzy place like this.”

  “Well … it is true that birds enjoy shiny objects, like tokens.” He smiled wryly as we fell into step, walking toward the beige building. “I’m not really sure how the interest in these particular games developed. About five years ago, I remember suddenly being fascinated by arcade games. I come here once every few weeks. Even with the terrible machines and awful prizes.”

  I shoved him. “Hey, I actual
ly like this place! My mom used to take me here. We must have just missed each other.” I stared up at him archly. “So, how about you get me a slice and a soda, and then I beat you at a game or twenty? Then we go on to a proper restaurant.”

  Cendric’s eyes glinted. “We shall see.”

  “I have ten dollars in quarters to waste.”

  “I have fifty. Maybe the best vampire win.”

  An hour later the arcade closed, along with a ten-minute warning for the rest of the park. I’d learned a lot about him in sixty minutes. How his eyes narrowed when faced with impossible odds. The way he threw back his head and laughed when advancing ahead in racing games. Lots of random information about various games in the place and more about his kindness and charity as we mutually agreed to give all our tickets to a couple of kids leaving empty-handed.

  I glanced over at him as we walked toward the park entrance. “So what about you, Cid? I’ve gone all soulful and snot-filled. It’s your turn.”

  “Do you have enough tissues?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Nah, but I have this.” I tugged at my button-down. “It’s like one giant hankie. So what’s your story? Why spend all this time fighting for others? And then there’s the pro bono. How do you afford that and keep yourself in leather dusters and Muppet shirts?”

  He smiled. “I’ve invested well over the last hundred years.”

  “Ah, so you’re another old one.”

  It figured. Kiran was one of the younger Fae I’d dated, and he was about eighty. Not that it mattered. After a certain point, usually around college age, it all evened out. Plus, I wasn’t short on tough times and life experience.

  “Relatively speaking.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m 237 years old. So there are many older than I am.”

  “Where were you born? I hear a bit of an accent.”

  He snorted in disbelief. “That’s quite an accomplishment. I’ve worked hard to lose my accent, and I’m quite clever about that. But,” suddenly his voice grew sharper around the edges with a resonant timbre, “it’s there. My flock settled in Hungary for a time. I fell in love with a local woman, a dhampir, and remained.”

  Cendric paused, and his voice choked. “Then the Blood Wars came, and Fae fought against Fae. No one wanted peace. They only wanted to subjugate the other races. I had flown away to contact my flock and learn news. My wife, my mate … she had been a vampire hunter, like many dhampirs. The local vampire cell used the chaos of the war to retaliate. I felt the attack … returned as soon as I could…” His gray eyes gleamed wet in the streetlights as we stepped outside the entrance of the park.