Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4)

by Nelson, Stephanie

  “Coffeeeeee.” A female voice said behind me. I jumped, almost spilling my coffee, and spun around, finding a blonde woman padding across the kitchen floor toward the coffeepot. Had Dorian mentioned me living with someone? I couldn’t remember.

  “Who are you?” My eyebrows drew together when she half turned to look at me. She was pretty with big green eyes and a Cupid bow mouth. Something occurred to me at seeing her in a red tank-top and boy-shorts. Maybe Dorian’s room was the one across the hall and she had spent the night with him. Boyfriend, my ass.

  “Gwen?” The woman said, blinking the sleep from her eyes. One of her hands came up and rubbed a path across her porcelain face. “What are you doing up this early?”

  My eyebrows crawled up my forehead, eyes widening. “You know me?”

  Where my face showed surprise, the woman’s reflected confusion. “What? Of course I know you.” She turned back to the coffeepot and got to work at pouring her a cup. “Let me wake up before you pull whatever game this is. Have you even slept yet or has Dorian kept you up all night?” She looked over her shoulder and gave me a knowing smile. I wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. Thinking about Dorian and me having sex birthed carnivorous butterflies to gnaw at my stomach lining.

  The woman spun around, coffee cup in hand, and sat at the table. She rested her head in her hand and closed her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I walked into kitchen and stood beside the table, unsure if I should sit or not. It was obvious this woman was familiar with the apartment and knew Dorian and me.

  “Ugh,” she mumbled, peeking up at me through one eye, “Ethan and I hit up a party in Hemlock last night so you and Dorian could have some alone time.” She did that knowing smile thing again. The butterflies stirred. “Ethan may seem reserved, but that boy knows how to get his party on.” Both of her eyes snapped open, and she sat up straighter. A slow smile stretched across her lips, revealing sparkling white teeth. “And the sex…Oh. My. God. Get a couple shots in him, and he’s like Dr. Jeykl and Mr. Hyde.”

  I stood awkwardly in the kitchen, unsure what to say. It was evident that she didn’t know that I had lost my memories, but then, how could she? Before she went into the details about this Ethan person and his sexual prowess, I blurted, “I don’t remember anything.”

  A wrinkle formed between her eyes. “What do you mean, you don’t remember anything?”

  I pursed my lips and shrugged. “Dorian said someone hexed me, taking all of my memories.”

  The woman slapped her hand against the table, causing me to jump. “No shit? Why am I just now hearing about this? When did it happen? Have you guys talked to Micah? What did he say.” Through the plethora of questions, she stood. Her eyes went frantic as she thought about something.

  “I think I may have a spell to counteract it,” she said, though I could tell she was talking to herself and not me. She chewed on her lip in thought. “Mind spells are tricky. Ethan may know how to handle it. Actually, it may be better to have him deal with it; he’s more practiced than I am. With my luck I’d end up adding the wrong ingredient, and you’d turn into a slobbering vegetable.”

  My bottom lip fell so that my mouth formed an O. The woman reminded me of a hummingbird, flitting about the kitchen in a frenzy.

  “Ethan!”

  I flinched when she yelled his name and found myself wishing for Dorian, if only so he could explain who the woman was and whether I should opt for trying one of her spells. I smiled a little and shook my head that my subconscious trusted him enough to seek his refuge in this confusing time.

  A man with dark blond hair stumbled out of the room across from mine and padded down the hall. He rubbed a hand over his face and blinked over at me before turning his attention toward the blonde woman.

  “Where’s the fire, Fiona?”

  “Right there.” Fiona pointed at me. “Someone put a spell on her so that she doesn’t remember anything. How do I fix it?”

  It was nice to finally put a name to the excited blonde face. Fiona. I swirled the name around my brain, testing for familiarity. Nothing. I let out an aggravated huff, and both Ethan and Fiona shot me a look.

  “Something happened to Gwen?” Ethan asked in an exaggerated tone. “Must be Tuesday,” he finished with snark. Looking at me, he asked, “Who’d you piss off this time?”

  I shot Fiona a look and shrugged at Ethan, which only annoyed him more. It didn’t take me long to find out that he didn’t like me. Just as Fiona was about to reply, the front door swung open and in walked Dorian. That strange feeling swirled through my stomach and traveled up through my skull. I had to stop reacting like this toward him.

  “Everyone caught up?” Dorian asked as he shrugged out of his jacket. He moved past me and toward the coffeepot.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Fiona complained, crossing her thin arms and trying a look that I assumed was supposed to be threatening.

  Dorian’s back faced the three of us as he stirred sugar into his cup. “Didn’t know I had to. Besides, I’m taking care of it.”

  “She’s my best friend,” Fiona said in exasperation. “Of course you should have called me. More to the fact, I’m a spell-caster. You didn’t think ‘hmm, maybe Fiona would know a counter spell’?”

  My eyebrows formed arches as my gaze volleyed between Dorian and Fiona. For some reason, her lack of fear of him settled my own. I slid a sidelong glance in Ethan’s direction to find him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a bored expression on his face. Apparently, he wasn’t as upset as Fiona. My lips wrinkled as I thought about Fiona’s blunt confession of his sexual prowess. Out of all the things I wanted to know, that wasn’t one of them.

  Dorian turned around and leaned against the counter. Slowly, he raised his cup to his lips and took a drink while we all stared at him.

  “Excuse me for not seeking the advice of a novice spell-caster,” Dorian finally said. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding and deflating rapidly. “I think we have bigger issues to worry about.”

  Fiona and I gaped. What was bigger than retrieving my memories? How much longer did I have to wait to remember my life before he took this seriously?

  “Like what?” I asked, borrowing some of Ethan’s snark. “What’s more important than someone stealing my memories, Dorian?” The grin that lifted one side of his mouth only ticked me off more.

  “I didn’t mean that finding a solution to your problem wasn’t important,” Dorian explained. “You know that saying things could always be worse?” At my blank stare, he continued. “Well, I think they just got worse.”

  “How?” Fiona and I both asked.

  Dorian took another drink, his shoulders sagging a little as he prepared himself to tell us what was so dire. I stared down at my hands and realized I was still holding my coffee, and then frowned that it was now cold. During Fiona’s little freak-out, I’d forgotten all about it.

  “As Death, it is my job to keep the balance,” Dorian started. “It’s my job to make sure souls reach their expiration date so that new life can be born. When things run smoothly, the balance between the two is a steady stream of energy.” Dorian sat his mug on the counter and crossed his arms in front of him. My eyes took notice of the way his t-shirt gripped his biceps before I diverted my gaze to the floor.

  “There’s been a shift,” Dorian said. “The death side is strong, too strong.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Dorian shook his head slightly. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s never happened before.”

  “Told you,” Ethan said to Fiona. They shared a look and then turned their focus toward Dorian. I made my way over to the table and sat, not understanding what was going on, but knowing it was important enough for me to pay attention.

  “Last night Ethan said he felt a disturbance in the energy,” Fiona said. “By this time I had a good buzz going on, and I guess my senses were so dulled that I didn’t notice it.”

  “You all sen
se death?” I asked, curling a leg beneath me and propping an elbow onto the table. Fiona and Dorian joined me at the table, Dorian taking the seat beside me. Ethan made himself a cup of coffee before he, too, joined us.

  “No,” Fiona started. “Species that specialize in magic—witches, elves, fairies, pixies, etcetera—receive their power from the earth. An invisible wire of energy connects and binds everything. The balance Dorian is talking about is part of that energy. When there is a rift in it, we can sense it.”

  I nodded and turned my head toward Dorian. “Do you think it has something to do with the person who hexed me?”

  He shrugged. “I doubt it. The woman would have to be one of us, and I didn’t sense that from her. Besides, Eddie said he first noticed it a couple weeks ago.”

  Ethan snorted from across the table. “How is it that a ghost knew before the angel of Death?”

  Dorian’s head swung in my direction before he looked away. “I’ve been a little…distracted.” Fiona and Ethan’s eyes landed on my face, Fiona’s smiling and Ethan’s accusing.

  “So, you talk to ghosts on a regular basis?” It was a weak question, but I needed to shift the conversation off me. Of course he conversed with ghosts; he’s Death. The corner of Dorian’s mouth twitched upward before his lips straightened out again. I guess it was good that Death found me amusing, right?

  Before Dorian could respond, the telephone rang. Fiona shot out of her seat and answered it while we all listened in.”

  “Yeah, I can bring her down. No, no change yet. Fine, we’ll be down there in twenty minutes.” Fiona hung up the phone and frowned.

  “That was Micah,” she told us. “He wants to speak with Gwen.”

  Relief washed away the anxious tension. “Did he find a way to fix my memory loss?”

  Fiona shook her head. “Not exactly.”

  And just like that, my hope fizzled.

  THE THREE OF us walked up the walkway that led to the FPD building. Ethan chose to stay back at the apartment and search through his magic book of spells for a cure, though I suppose that had more to do with Fiona telling him to do so. Had Ethan had a choice, I was sure he would have vegged and watched television while the three of us scrambled to find a solution. My fingers itched to rip his soul from his body. I didn’t play where Gwen was concerned.

  I placed my hand on the small of Gwen’s back when we passed a man. The maneuver was automatic, and it took me a moment to realize what I’d done. She looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and I felt my fingers curl, squeezing her shirt in my grip. The look was just a glance, a split second where our eyes connected, but there had been something behind her gaze. I didn’t remove my hand from the small of her back, and she didn’t signal that she didn’t want me touching her. Despite a shitty morning, this little hint lightened the weight on my shoulders the slightest bit.

  Fiona walked into the FPD ahead of us. I caught the door and motioned for Gwen to go before me. I’d held doors for women before Gwen, but that was out of nicety and not care. Again, as I thought about my actions around Gwen, I realized that I cared for her. This revelation sent a jolt of something heavy through my stomach. As a rule, I did not get close to anyone, for obvious reasons. The fact that I was just now realizing I liked Gwen more than I should made me uncomfortable. Then again, hadn’t all the signs already been right in front of my face? I had moved in with her under the ruse that I needed to be close so I could teach her. If I was being honest with myself, I just wanted to be close to her. At the time, I told myself it was because I wanted to sleep with her. Of course after that happened, I stuck around. I was quickly running out of excuses for staying.

  “Oh my God!”

  Fiona’s squeal brought me out of my head. I looked in the direction of her gaze and felt my mouth fall open. What the hell? A man stood off to the side with a four-inch hole through his heart. I watched people move behind him through the hole.

  Gwen watched in horror as the man began to pace back and forth. Her body navigated to my side as though it sought my refuge without her consent. The warmth of her soft frame against my side beckoned something in me. Without thinking about it, I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and held her against my body.

  “Please tell me you guys are seeing this,” Fiona said, half turning to look at us. Gwen and I both nodded. “How is he alive? I mean, is that even possible?”

  “It shouldn’t be.” Micah’s voice took our attention off the grotesque man. “Walk with me.” He motioned with his head to follow him. As we began walking, Gwen glanced down at her shoulder as though noticing for the first time that my arm was around her. Her eyes shifted up and met mine. I quirked an eyebrow in challenge, daring her to prove that she didn’t like being in my arms. A small smile creased her lips before she looked away, but she didn’t shrug my arm away from her body. Maybe she didn’t need to remember our history to realize that there was something between us. It was absolute, memories or not.

  The three of us entered Micah’s office. Fiona and Gwen sat in the two chairs facing the desk while I leaned against the closed door. I stared at the werewolf, silently threatening his life if he didn’t have good news for us. Realizing that I had been quick to rip souls and ask questions later, I took a calming breath. Since Gwen, anything revolving around her set me ablaze—temperament and body. If someone disrespected her, I’d rip his soul from his offending body. If a man got that look in his eyes when he looked at her, I wanted to reach inside his chest and shred his existence. It was insane and more possessive than I ever thought myself possible. Rules never applied to me before, but after Gwen, I didn’t even know the fucking meaning of the word. Somehow, she had become my sole focus, and that shit needed to stop. Because she had distracted me from my purpose, the balance between life and death had gone unnoticed for weeks, possibly months. It was unacceptable. She was just a woman; I could shake her. I had to, had to ignore the connection and get back on track. I should probably stop putting my hands on her then. The thought crossed my mind, and I grimaced. Yeah, touching her was not a good idea if I wanted to get my head straight.

  “So,” Micah began, and I pushed all thoughts to the back of my mind so I could pay attention. “We contacted Ms. Willow—the owner of Twisted Treats—and brought her in for questioning.” Micah leaned back in his swivel chair, his hands clasping behind his head. Why the hell was he so relaxed when the world was in chaos? Gwen’s memories are gone. The pixies cannot bring plants back to life. The balance is screwed up, and there’s a man pacing the lobby with a fucking hole where his heart should be. Micah’s lack of concern pissed me off, but then, the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on his shoulders like it was mine.

  “A baker hexed you?” Fiona asked Gwen. She shrugged, not remembering what happened.

  “She admitted to hexing you.” Micah’s eyes settled on Gwen’s face “But she claims that the spell was supposed to wear off after a couple hours. When I asked her why she did it, she confessed to having illegal spells in her shop. She mentioned that you asked her about them and, as a new witch, she panicked.”

  “Well that’s just fucking great,” I snarled, pushing off the wall and standing behind Gwen’s chair. “This woman is a new witch and practicing illegal spells, ones that she obviously doesn’t know how to mix because if she did, Gwen’s memories would be back by now. I hope you booked her ass.”

  Micah sat up in his chair and folded his arms across his desk. “There are steps we have to take regarding certain species. And,” Micah continued when I started to open my mouth, “there is something off about her. She claims to be a new witch, but she smells human to me. Besides, doesn’t magic choose you guys when you’re young?” He directed the question to Fiona.

  “Yes, usually in our teens, but there have been some cases where people didn’t receive their powers until their twenties, but it’s very rare.” Fiona paused a moment to think. “What did you mean when you said she smells human? Witches are very close to the human race so I don�
��t see how that is unordinary.”

  Micah smiled. “Yes, for the most part witches smell just like humans, but you guys have a little something extra. Behind the human scent, there’s a zest.” His eyes cut to Gwen, who had been sitting quietly with her legs crossed. “Except for Gwen. She used to smell like fruit.”

  Gwen flashed a look at Fiona before she glanced back at Micah. “I’m going to pretend that discussing how people smell is normal,” she said. “What do I smell like now?”

  “You still smell like fruit, but it’s not ripe anymore.”

  Gwen’s jaw dropped as she gaped at Micah’s rude comment. She lifted her shirt and tucked her chin to her chest to sniff. When I laughed through my nose, she half turned to look at me.

  “You think it’s funny that he just said I stink?”

  “I never said you stunk,” Micah corrected. “Rotting fruit isn’t that unpleasant, it just isn’t as sweet as it used to be.”

  “It’s the death that clings to her,” I explained and watched Gwen’s eyes widen right along with her mouth. “Since she’s embraced her spirit walker side, she’s more connected with death than she was before.” For reasons unknown, death has a rotting fruit smell. I’ve become so used to it that I barely notice it anymore. Noticing Gwen’s discomfort, I changed the topic.

  “So this woman,” I began, “you don’t think she’s really a witch?”

  “I don’t know,” Micah answered. “There’s just something…off about her.”

  “So where is she now and how do we get Gwen’s memories back?”

  Micah released a ragged breath. “She’s in a holding cell. I sent a team over to her bakery to dispose of the illegal spells. I cannot do anything with her until I hear back from the NAWC. Since she’s a witch, they have control over her fate.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I snarled.

  “That’s the way it is, Dorian. Each species has a court of their own, and when someone breaks the laws of their kind, it has to be reported to the designated government. Illegal spells are in the NAWCs jurisdiction.”