Casually Cursed

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Casually Cursed Page 13

by Kimberly Frost


  “Are you okay?” I asked Bryn, who cleared his throat as we all left the Trinity grounds.

  “Yes,” Bryn said, then swallowed. I swallowed, too, but my throat felt okay.

  “Stay close to the wall,” Zach said, guiding us so the crowd with the pub crawl blocked the view of us from the street.

  The drizzle worsened, prompting the group’s umbrellas to whoosh open.

  Bryn looked over his shoulder as we hurried around a corner. A streak of lightning lit the sky for a moment, and Bryn’s eyes narrowed. “I can feel his power from here, so he can probably feel ours, too.”

  “Another wizard? Wait here for me,” Kismet said, pulling her bow out from under the back of the long black oversize sweater she wore over her T-shirt and skirt.

  “Hang on,” I said, clutching her arm. “Let’s just go.”

  “Why would we run from a lone wizard?”

  “Because we don’t want to kill him. Or for him to kill us. We just want to get away.”

  She scowled. “When people chase me through a city, I stop them.” She glanced around. “There aren’t enough trees to make it a fun game.”

  “The hotel’s this way,” Zach said.

  I nodded. “Come on, Kismet. Let’s stay together.” I hooked my arm through hers and pulled her against my side. “Sisters stick with each other.”

  A smile stretched her mouth toward her ears. “Yes, all right.” She gave a little nod. “Sisters,” she whispered, still smiling.

  I smiled, too, feeling happier than was logical. We were being chased by Conclave operatives, and if we managed to escape them, we were going out of the frying pan into the fire in the form of the Never. The last thing I should be doing was smiling, but when you’ve got friends and family close at your side, things don’t feel as bad.

  * * *

  WE RETURNED TO the van. When I slid the door open, I had to shake my head at Mercutio, who wanted to hop out.

  “Sorry, Merc. We loaded our stuff earlier so that we could get right out of town when we found Kismet.”

  Mercutio made a dissatisfied noise, but eased back inside.

  “Where are we heading?” Bryn asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “Do you know the way to Killarney?”

  “Of course,” Bryn said. “I’m Irish.”

  She grinned. “All right there, candy man. Stay sweet.”

  “Candy man?” I asked.

  “Well, no one’s got candy legs, have they? Where is she, by the way? I thought our aunt meant to come along,” Kismet said as she and I climbed into the back and Zach got in the front passenger seat.

  “Edie told you that?” I demanded. “She didn’t tell me.”

  Kismet shrugged. “Maybe she thought you’d tell her to stay home.”

  “I might have. And if she’d been smart, she would have. Now she’s been captured by the World Association of Magic, and she’s a prisoner.”

  “What’s that you say?” Kis said, grabbing the handle of the door that she’d just closed.

  “She’s in London. Eventually we have to go back there to get her, but we’re going to the Never first.”

  Kismet tilted her head thoughtfully. “Easier to get her out of a human stronghold than the Never. She’s safe there, do you think? Till we can come back for her?”

  “I think so,” I said. “They want us to get this artifact for them. We’re supposed to trade it.”

  Kismet nodded. “So she’ll be all right till you come then. Good enough.”

  “But we haven’t got the relic they want.”

  Kismet waved this detail away. “I like her. I’ll get her.”

  I blinked. “Getting into WAM headquarters won’t be like sneaking into a college library. They have a lot of safeguards against all kinds of magical creatures. Right, Bryn?”

  “Definitely,” he said, sounding a little hoarse.

  I felt a tickle in my own throat. “Does your throat hurt?” I asked.

  “A little,” he admitted. “I may stop by an A and E in Killarney.”

  “What’s an A and E?”

  “Accident and emergency.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. “Will medicine work on a magical illness?”

  “It will work on something like an infected throat. This may even just be laryngitis, which would get better without intervention. Poppy didn’t panic when the spell she cast at Zach came back and hit her. She went to her knees coughing, but she didn’t look scared, so the spell must not have been too dangerous.”

  “Why would she be scared? Even if it was a deadly spell, she could just heal herself with her blood-and-bones magic.”

  Bryn shook his head. “That’s usually easier said than done. Most blood-and-bones witches can’t cast on themselves. It’s thought that it’s a protective thing. That way they don’t accidently hurt themselves while developing their powers. The ones who could cast on themselves likely died out years ago.”

  “Huh,” I said. “So far, as Conclave members go, Poppy’s not so bad. She hasn’t betrayed us or tried to kill us. According to Van Noten, she’s really powerful, but she didn’t hit us with any really nasty spells. She’s a little too flirty with guys, in my opinion, but of all the Conclave operatives I’ve met, she’s my favorite. If I see her again, I may tell her so.”

  Bryn laughed and then rubbed his throat. “You are one of a kind.”

  “Actually no. Two of a kind,” I said, pointing at Kismet.

  Bryn winked at us in the rearview mirror and looked cute doing it.

  “Kismet, I have to ask you a couple of things. Do you know anything about a magical amber relic that the government of witches is desperate to find?”

  “Can’t say that I do.”

  “We heard a story about faeries and witches fighting over an amber years ago. Have you ever heard a story like that?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  I frowned. I’d really hoped she’d know something helpful—like where the amber artifact was hidden and what its magical power was.

  “We ran into some werewolves in the Scottish woods.”

  “Did you? I told you not to go to the Scotch woods.”

  “Yes, I know. We didn’t have a choice, being kidnapped.”

  “You ought not let yourself be kidnapped. I’ll teach you to fight so you can stop that from happening again.”

  “I know how to fight. But the thing is, those wolves mistook me for you, I think. And they wanted something from you.”

  She smiled. “My blood, no doubt.”

  “An object,” I said.

  She glanced away, shrugging.

  “Can’t you tell me?” I whispered.

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

  “This is important, Kis.”

  “If something is important, I’ll attend to it. You needn’t worry.”

  “I want to help. We’re in this together.”

  She smiled and glanced at me. “If I find I need help, I may ask for it. But trouble should be more afraid of me than me of it,” she said with a wink.

  So confident. Hopefully not overly so.

  I sighed. She was used to being completely on her own. I’d have to keep working on her to convince her she could trust us.

  Bryn watched her in the rearview mirror, and he and I shared a look.

  He looked so healthy and normal, the last thing I expected was for him to run us off the road two hours later.

  15

  I TOLD KISMET stories about growing up in Duvall. She laughed and asked a lot of questions. Zach, who’d started out quiet, gradually warmed up. When I told the story of our stealing Barney the bulldog, mascot of our biggest football rival, Zach commented, “That was a move we’d live to regret.”

  “Not a smooth abduction then?” Kis asked, laughing
.

  “That dog was fifty pounds of muscle and another fifty pounds of attitude. Still got the scars on my forearm where he tried to tear off a piece of me.”

  “Let’s see,” she said, hopping up from her seat and leaning over his.

  He flicked on the small light near him and extended his arm.

  “Where? Oh, yes,” she said, running her finger over the faint marks. “Beauties. I’ve only two that haven’t faded completely. Iron scars last the longest—they can even become permanent if it’s just the right temperature when it breaks the skin. But the queen won’t let us keep our battle scars. She has the healer cut away the injured flesh so fresh skin will grow in. I had a tattoo on my foot done with a little iron in the ink to make it last. It was to mark my surviving a ten-vampire attack.” Kismet pulled her slipper shoe off and extended her leg. She was just like a ballerina, the way she could extend her foot so perfectly. “It’s fading,” she said. “But not so quickly as it would in the Never.” The green-and-gold vines were still a lovely color, but had obviously been more vibrant initially.

  “Seelie skin is supposed to be perfect, yeah? So the queen considers it an insult to her kingdom if our bodies hold the marks of war. We’re to be pretty as part of our tribute.” Kismet bent to put her shoe on.

  “But you tattooed your foot. She must not have liked that,” I said.

  She looked up at me through her lashes, green eyes sparkling. “No, she didn’t.” A brief smile flashed.

  “Did you get in trouble?”

  “Aye, I did. But I’m in trouble most of the time these days. At least this was trouble I chose outright. Not trouble I backed into without meaning to.”

  “What kind of trouble have you gotten into accidentally?”

  She waved a hand. “It’s all in the past. Nothing to dredge up like the bottom of a ditch. Tell me more about your battles with the rival school. Did they retaliate against you for stealing their dog? And who kept this Barney?”

  “Oh, we returned him after the game! We took good care of him, too, while we had him.”

  “He dined on steak every night, like a canine kingpin. Ate better than we did and knew it. That dog didn’t want to go back. Had to drag him out of the truck,” Zach said.

  I laughed. “It’s true. That dog,” I said, shaking my head. “First he didn’t want to come. Then he didn’t want to leave.”

  “You fed him those sausage dog biscuits you made,” Zach said. “That’s what did it as much as the steak, I think.”

  I pulled my jacket tighter around me and leaned closer to the vent blowing heat onto me.

  “Are we to be greenhouse flowers?” Kismet said, dropping her sweater on her seat. “I know you’re used to hot weather, but this is—”

  “Yeah, man. It’s gotta be eighty-five in here. Wanna turn the heat down?” Zach, who was down to his T-shirt, said.

  Bryn didn’t answer.

  “It doesn’t feel hot to me,” I argued. “I’m chilly.” I clasped my hands together and put them in my lap, closing my thighs against them to conserve warmth.

  “Chilled?” Kismet asked, dropping to her knees in front of me and grabbing my face.

  “Actually I feel a little strange. Like we’re drifting—”

  “Lyons!” Zach yelled.

  The tires rammed the curb, and we bounced off, swerving into the opposite lane and then running up onto the grass. The van listed to the right, but didn’t tip all the way over. We landed back on all four wheels with a thump and came to a stop.

  Mercutio yowled a complaint and then darted forward to look out the front window.

  “What happened?” I asked, unbuckling my seat belt. I wobbled, feeling unsteady.

  Zach stood next to Bryn’s seat. “He’s out cold,” Zach said, shaking his head.

  I put a hand on Bryn’s forehead. “Feel his head. Does he seem hot?”

  “As a stovetop burner on full. I can feel it from here,” Zach said.

  Bryn’s breathing turned noisy.

  “Hey,” I said, shaking his shoulders. My own throat ached. I swallowed and grimaced at the pain.

  “She hit you both with her spell? That little cream puff! I’ll give her a pain in the throat when next our paths cross,” Kismet said.

  “She did more damage than I thought,” I said in a raspy voice.

  Kismet clutched her own throat, massaging it. “Why can’t I feel this sickness magic? Whenever you’re gravely injured I feel it when I try.”

  “I don’t think she hit me with the spell. Bryn and I are linked magically. When one of us is the victim of injurious magic, the other is affected, too.”

  “Let me help you,” she said, closing her eyes. She’d helped me heal in the past. Both she and Bryn had been able to at different times. It was the way I’d survived several very deadly and damaging attacks. Now, though, I didn’t feel better.

  “Feel anything?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Me either,” she said.

  “What happened?” Bryn croaked. His voice sounded like he was part frog.

  “You passed out,” I said.

  “And ran us off the road. Why the hell didn’t you say you felt dizzy?” Zach asked, hauling Bryn from the driver’s seat.

  Bryn glared at Zach, but allowed himself to be helped to the back bench. “I didn’t feel dizzy. I felt cold and—”

  “But you felt sick, right? You can’t tell when you’re gonna pass out?”

  “Truthfully I . . .” Bryn swallowed with trouble, then continued in a faint rasp. “Can’t talk. Just . . . fuck off.”

  At that, Zach grinned. “Hell, getting a lawyer to shut up? That girl’s magic is all right.”

  Bryn’s middle finger popped up.

  Zach laughed.

  “Leave him alone,” I said, giving Zach a shove. “He doesn’t need you giving him a hard time when he’s sick.”

  “He’s all right,” Zach said. “How ’bout you, darlin’?” he asked, turning to Kismet. “You’re from these parts. You any good at driving on the wrong side of the road?”

  “I don’t drive at all. I have a horse, two legs, and a Tube pass.”

  “Great,” Zach said, glancing out the window and looking around. He sat in the driver’s seat and fastened his belt. “Better buckle up.”

  “Hey, Kis, where is your horse?” I asked, sitting next to Bryn.

  “Left him on the path. There’s nothing for him in Dublin.”

  “So he’ll wait for you, huh?”

  “He wanders as he pleases, but though he’s a horse, he could be part hound. He finds me wherever I am.”

  “That sounds like someone I know,” I said, glancing at Mercutio, who had come back to the bench seat and pawed Bryn’s neck.

  “Benvolio chose me for his friend when I was but seven. Everyone wanted him, including a fae knight who keeps all the best horses. Benny was beautiful, but wild. Like me,” she said, flashing a smile. “I raced off Magnus Cliff to swim with the selkies, and Ben did too. From a colt he was fearless. And a bit reckless, aye? The queen said he should go to the knight, who’d train him to behave. But he was too wild for the straps they tied him with. He would’ve hurt himself.”

  “You let him out?”

  “Cut him loose, aye,” she said. “They tied him up again, but I taught him how to work the buckle to unhook it. By the time he was a year, none could catch him. And I was the only one he let ride him.”

  “His full name? Benvolio?” Bryn asked in a strained voice.

  “Yes. Why?” she asked.

  Bryn smiled, shaking his head. “Half a supernatural world away . . . still connected.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Benvolio is a character’s name in one of the Bard’s plays. We don’t like that playwright as much as you do humanside,
but we like him well enough,” Kismet said.

  “Hmm.”

  “Mercutio. Benvolio. Both Shakespeare characters,” Bryn murmured.

  “Oh!” I said. “You rest now,” I told him, stroking a finger over his temple. He closed his eyes.

  “I’ll help the cowboy navigate,” Kismet said, making me smile. That was what Edie called Zach.

  “He’s not really a cowboy, you know,” I said.

  Kismet grinned. “He’s like one. With his hat and boots, right? Just as they are in the movies and books.”

  “Kind of,” I said as she moved to the front of the van.

  Mercutio sat with Bryn and me. Whenever Bryn woke, I tried to get him to drink sips of cold water, but by the end he couldn’t swallow or talk.

  “Will he be cured if we go to the Never? Aunt Mel said witch magic doesn’t work there.”

  “That’s true. He might instantly be cured. Or he might die as he tries to cross over. During the transition, the path accelerates life and death for those few seconds. Then everything slows. Some people who are more dead than alive simply drop and fall off the path. How sick is he?” Kismet asked.

  I frowned. “Too sick to risk that. We’ll have to go to a hospital.” I pushed Bryn’s black hair back. Heat radiated from his skin. He’d been injured by dangerous magic too many times because of me. But being with me was his choice. And I’d never let bad magic take him. “Zach, you heard me, right? Find a hospital.”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  I fidgeted nervously. “Kismet, talk to me. I’m worried. Distract me.”

  She tilted her head. “What should I talk about?”

  “Tell me why the werewolves are after you.”

  She smiled. “I embarrassed their leader. They think the woods are their territory, but I pass through them when I decide to, even though I’ve been warned not to. Also, I freed some prisoners and threatened the wolf lord. The pack leader can’t afford to be seen as weak. He’ll kill me, does he get the chance.”

  “If he gets the chance.”

  “Aye, if he gets the chance.” She snapped her fingers. “Sometimes the old way of talking English comes out. My foster da taught me the English way of talking, but he’d not been humanside in a few hundred years.”

 

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