The Cursed Witch: A Paranormal Enemies to Lovers (Nightcaster Chronicles Book 1)

by R. L. Perez

  His eyes opened, and they flashed with hurt. “What’s wrong?”

  “You shouldn’t—we shouldn’t—” I stopped and shook my head, unable to find the words.

  “No one has to know. We can keep it a secret.”

  The idea sent flames of desire rippling through me, but I shook my head again. “It’s not a good idea. If the Count finds out about my Dad and finds out about us, he’ll target you too.”

  “Brielle—”

  “I mean it, Riker.” I looked at him with wide eyes. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Riker pulled away from me, his lips pressing into a thin line. “If you don’t want me, just say so.”

  I sucked in a breath. After glancing up and down the hall to ensure we were alone, I leaned in and brought my mouth to his. I pressed myself closer, sinking into his arms as they wound around me. His lips moved more urgently, and a low, sexy sound rumbled from his throat.

  It took all my strength to pull away. I broke the kiss with a gasp, my head spinning.

  “Tell me you felt that,” Riker said breathlessly.

  The skittering in my heart was undeniable. “I did,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

  “So, you do want me then.” Triumph glittered in his eyes.

  A lump formed in my throat, and I nodded. “But Riker, it’s not safe. I already have a target on my back, and—” I broke off. I couldn’t tell him I suspected I was Lilith’s cursed witch. But if I was being honest with myself, that was the real reason I was pushing him away.

  I was either doomed to die or doomed to kill an entire city. I couldn’t get close to him.

  I pressed my palm against his cheek and smiled sadly. “Please just trust me. At least for now, it’s safer if we don’t.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. His eyes bore into mine as if he could see right through me. At long last, he nodded and offered a tight smile before extending his arm to escort me downstairs.

  19

  Brielle

  FOR THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, I slid into the usual routine I’d grown accustomed to. Training with Ignacio remained the same, though I noticed the wording of his Latin spell sometimes changed. At the end of every day, I returned to my room and tried to write down the words I remembered. I was too afraid to ask him outright—especially since I knew he had a hand in the Count’s imprisonment of demons.

  Riker and I didn’t speak much of the demons we’d found underground. Whenever I brought it up, he changed the subject or begged me to wait until we got more information. But as time passed, I grew more and more impatient. What information did he hope to gain by doing nothing?

  My mind kept returning to those wounded demons trapped below the castle as they awaited further torture from the Count and his mages. I had to do something—but I didn’t know what. I couldn’t get back home, and I was the only one in the castle who gave a damn about demons and their well-being. If the Count or his mages found out about my demon bloodline, I would surely end up locked in the dungeon too.

  Recently I’d been plagued by nightmares similar to the one I’d had of the blood and destruction. I tried to ignore them, but one night it got so bad I had to do something about it.

  In my dream, my hands were covered in blood. Fire burned in my veins, waiting to be unleashed. When I couldn’t contain it any longer, jets of flame poured from me like lava, reducing the city to ash. Children screamed. Women sobbed. Men gathered weapons and tried to fight me, but they were insignificant compared to my power. Magic and energy surged through me, so foreign and yet so exciting.

  I woke up in a cold sweat and found myself facedown on the floor of the library. Next to me, a fire crackled in the hearth. A stack of books lay scattered on the floor next to me.

  Panting, I peeled my sweaty face off the floor and sat up, my head spinning. “How the hell did I end up here?” I muttered aloud. My eyes fell to the stack of books on the floor. They were all a different shade of green.

  I’d been organizing books. It sounded like something I would do, but I had no memory of coming down here.

  Panic flooded through me. I grabbed the books, placed them back on the shelf, and wiped my sticky hair off my face.

  Don’t panic, I told myself. You’ll be just fine. My mind raced as I tried to formulate a plan, but everything I could think of would only make things worse.

  Tell the mages? Nope. Not only did they imprison demons, but the Count was on high alert for anyone exhibiting signs of Lilith’s curse. This would definitely raise some red flags.

  Tell Riker? No way. He was my only ally here, and if he even suspected I was cursed, I wasn’t sure what he would do. I trusted him in almost every sense, but his apathy toward the imprisoned demons made me hesitate about being honest about this side of me.

  Find a cure? How? I’d already scoured the library and sneaked into the Count’s private quarters, but the only thing he was hiding were prisoners—not books or information.

  I sank into an armchair and wiped my sweaty palms on my shift. My head throbbed, and I covered my face with my hands. I was so alone here.

  “Hey.”

  I jumped to my feet, my heart lurching in my chest. Izzy stood at the doorway in a nightgown, her white hair disheveled and her eyes sleepy.

  “What’re you doing up?” I asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  I shrugged, slumping backward in the chair. “It’s hard for me to sleep here. Sometimes I come here to organize books. It relaxes me.”

  Izzy strode forward and sat in the armchair across from me, her gaze fixed on the flames in the fireplace. The light danced in her eyes, making them appear the color of coffee instead of their usual inky black.

  She glanced at me carefully, then looked back at the fire. “I heard you.”

  My gaze snapped to her. “What?”

  “You were shouting something in the hallway. It woke me up, so I followed you here.”

  My heart froze. Swallowing, I said quietly, “What was I saying?”

  “I don’t know. It sounded like a different language. Spanish maybe? Or Latin?”

  My heart raced uncontrollably. I tried to control my breaths, but they came hard and fast until I felt like I might pass out. Again.

  Izzy leaned forward, propping her arms on her knees. “Brielle, what’s going on with you?”

  I closed my eyes. How could I hide this from her? I couldn’t come up with a believable excuse for my behavior. I didn’t quite understand it myself. Part of me was in denial, certain I couldn’t possibly be Lilith’s cursed witch. The other part of me was convinced that if I was cursed, I could find a cure before I hurt anyone.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted in a whisper. “I just . . . blacked out. I don’t remember coming down here.” My gaze darted to her worried expression. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

  “But Brielle, the mages—”

  “No,” I said sharply. “Not the mages. Please.”

  Izzy pressed her lips together in a thin line.

  I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “I don’t want to attract any extra attention. You know my dad’s a demon. If they find out—” I broke off, shaking my head. “I can’t risk it.”

  “But Brielle, you aren’t well. What if this gets worse? What if you hurt yourself . . . or someone else? That’s why we’re here—to be healed.”

  “I know.” I closed my eyes. Sorrow built in my chest so severely it sliced like a knife. “I wish I could go home and see my family. They would know what to do.” Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. My parents had always been at a loss for how to help me.

  But I felt safe with them. I never felt like I had to hide my problems.

  Izzy took a long breath, her eyes fixed on me. Concern and affection glistened in her eyes, and for a moment, I was reminded of Angel. The kindness in Izzy’s face was so similar to what I saw in Angel’s.

  “I know you feel alone here,” Izzy said softly. “But I want you to know I�
��m here for you. I don’t have any allegiance to the Count or his mages or anyone here. I’m here for myself. To be healed so I can stop hurting people. If you need a friend—someone to talk to, someone to turn to when you’re scared—you can always come to me.”

  A lump rose in my throat. I couldn’t speak. My eyes felt hot, so I dropped my gaze.

  “You’re always so closed off,” Izzy went on. “You think I don’t notice, but I do. You keep things from me—from everyone. I know better than to ask. But I hope one day you’ll trust me with the truth. You can’t do this alone, Brielle.”

  I closed my eyes, knowing that if I looked at her, I would start to cry. I wanted to say, Yes, I can. I was so used to taking on everything by myself. But a foreign and frightening uncertainty filled my chest like icy water. For the first time in a long time, I felt helpless. Cold. Afraid.

  Weak.

  I despised the feeling. I needed to feel capable and powerful again.

  I needed to fight a demon and beat him. Which was ironic, since all I could think about were the poor demons the Count had imprisoned and tortured.

  I’m not like him, I told myself, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.

  Unbidden, my mind turned to Leo Serrano. I hadn’t seen him or his coven in over a month. He was suspiciously quiet, and it made me wonder if he’d found what he was looking for.

  Or if the Count had found a way to neutralize the threat. If I crept downstairs again, would I find Leo and his coven trapped with the other prisoners? I suppressed a shiver at the thought.

  When I opened my eyes, Izzy was gone. It was just me and the roaring fire.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at the fire until I fell asleep.

  I MULLED OVER IZZY’S words over the next few days, knowing she was right—and knowing I had to do something before these blackouts got worse. As much as I wanted to believe it was an isolated incident, a chilling feeling inside me told me it wasn’t. It would happen again.

  I couldn’t do this alone.

  The cold winter days melted into early signs of spring, thawing the icy walls of the castle. I tried not to think of the prisoners down below and how they must be suffering in their freezing prison cells.

  One night, another nightmare overcame me. This one was much stronger than the others. So vivid. An explosion of fire consumed me. Screams echoed. Blood poured from my body, but I felt nothing. Someone was sobbing. Begging for mercy.

  But I refused to give it. Something within me roared with satisfaction hearing these pitiful mortals beg.

  Because it meant I was powerful. Unstoppable.

  I jolted awake with a gasp. The thrill of my vision made my heart race and my blood boil, and it took a moment to settle my body back down. Gradually, horror crept into me, making me feel sick.

  Swallowing down bile, I bolted out of bed and ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t want to go back to sleep. I feared I’d return to the nightmare. The thought made me shudder.

  Wrapping my robe around me, I slid out of my room and crept downstairs toward the library.

  A small, insane part of me hoped Leo Serrano would show up again. Not because I particularly wanted to see him, but because he was a demon. He might have answers for me.

  An ache built in my chest as I thought of how alone I felt here in this giant castle. I was the only person in this stupid place who gave a damn about demons and what happened to them.

  I missed my dad.

  Like a little girl, I missed him. I missed his comforting smell—the way I could still tell he was a demon, but it was mingled with something outdoorsy that was just so him. I missed his levelheadedness and the way he proved that demons could live a moral life.

  Being in this place made me long to see him, to know he was okay. To know there was somewhere out there where demons didn’t have to live in fear.

  “I figured you wouldn’t be sleeping.”

  I nearly dropped the stack of books in my hands. Whirling around, I found Izzy standing at the open door of the library.

  I exhaled, my heart racing. I hadn’t realized how much my body had tensed and seized at the thought of an unwanted guest joining my midnight shelving. Slowly, I relaxed and offered a weak smile.

  “Do you organize them all by color?” Izzy asked, approaching me with her arms crossed.

  I nodded. “I don’t have the energy for the translation spell. Plus, if I don’t pay attention to the titles, it helps me . . . zone out. Forget about everything.”

  Izzy nodded. “Can I help?”

  “Sure. You do the blues.”

  Izzy grinned and slid a stack of navy and pale blue books over toward her. We worked in silence for a moment as we organized our rainbow books.

  “I might be cursed,” I whispered.

  I didn’t know why I said it. I hadn’t even registered I’d spoken at all until Izzy froze, her hands hovering over a book with a sky-blue cover.

  I clamped my mouth shut. What the hell was wrong with me? But something like relief wormed its way into my chest, and I couldn’t hold back now that I’d started.

  “Lilith’s cursed witch,” I said, meeting Izzy’s wide eyes. “It might be me.”

  Izzy’s face drained of color. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been lying to everyone. I never had any powers. I’ve never been able to access them. But I couldn’t say anything because—”

  “Because they’re looking for the cursed witch. To stop the monster.” Izzy’s voice was hushed, and she swallowed. “But . . . that can’t be you, right? I mean, you just got here. The monster’s been attacking the city for years now.”

  “But it’s a time loop,” I whispered. “How do we know how it works if it just resets every year?”

  Izzy shook her head. “Brielle, it can’t be you.”

  I pressed my lips together and dropped my gaze. “I can’t do this anymore. The lies, the fear, the demons—”

  “Demons? What demons?”

  I took a breath and told her what Riker and I had found in the dungeon.

  Izzy’s face turned ashen. “Crikey. That’s bloody insane, keeping them locked up here.”

  I looked at her carefully. “Because they might escape?”

  “Well, that too. But because they belonged to someone’s coven. A demon coven. The Count must be nuts to risk retribution like that.”

  I stilled at her words. A demon coven.

  I remembered what Izzy had said after the first attack: Leo attacks on a regular basis, always searching for some powerful weapon the Count doesn’t have.

  What if he wasn’t searching for weapons—but demons? What if he was searching for his own people?

  Like his brother.

  I dropped the book I was holding. My hands shook. I couldn’t ignore this any longer. It was my only option.

  “Brielle?” Izzy stepped closer to me and touched my shoulder. “You look pale. Come sit by the fire.”

  I shook my head and looked at her with wide eyes. “I need to talk to Leo Serrano.”

  20

  Leo

  “HOW MANY SENTRIES?” I asked Miguel. We stood in the shade of several oak trees nestled deep in the forest less than a mile away from the Castillo de Coca.

  “A dozen, but I slipped by unnoticed. Easily.” Miguel scratched his chin. “Are you certain about this? Usually the Count has more than that. This feels like a trap.”

  I grinned. “All the more reason to proceed. We wouldn’t want to disappoint the Count and all his careful planning, now, would we?”

  Miguel shared a doubtful look with Jorge, their expressions equally rigid.

  My smile faded. Sometimes I’m the only one here with a sense of humor. I sighed. “The Count can’t possibly know we’re coming. We’ve swept the forest twice and found nothing. The castle grounds are quiet. We’ve taken a slow journey through the woods to ensure we weren’t followed or spied upon. Our time to act is now.”

  Guadalupe swooped down on us in eagle f
orm and shifted when she touched the ground. “The Count’s carriage and several horses are missing.”

  I stiffened, my skin prickling with suspicion. Perhaps this is a trap. It rang with familiarity, reminding me of when we’d lured the Count to our home only to attack the castle in his absence.

  How could he possibly know?

  I shook my head. “He must be visiting the other mages in the city. Though I don’t know why.” I rubbed my jaw. We’d tracked the Count’s movements often over the past several months. Ordinarily he only visited the mages once every two months. But this was an unusual visit. What was so important it couldn’t wait another month?

  Jorge, who was sharpening his knife, glanced at me briefly. “Do you want me to track him and see where he’s gone?”

  Something in me yearned to say yes, to succumb to the curiosity. But I shoved the thought away, thinking of Ronaldo. That’s exactly the kind of thinking that got him captured. Impulsive. Reckless. I need to be smarter than that. For his sake.

  “No,” I said quietly. “We proceed as planned. If this is to be our final strike, we’ll need our full force.”

  Jorge nodded, sliding his knife into his holster.

  Once again, my skin prickled, and I stiffened. I inhaled deeply, searching the air for scents—for anything that seemed amiss. But the familiar forest smells surrounded me. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  My ears tingled, listening. Waiting.

  A faint whisper hissed among the wind. A voice.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked.

  My comrades shook their heads, frowning at one another. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sound. It was a small voice—perhaps that of a child. My brows knitted together in concentration. Then, I realized the voice was uttering a spell.

  “Magic above and powers that be,

  I call on you and summon thee,

  To locate this being and bring him near,

  So I may communicate with him here.”

  My eyes snapped open. “No—”

  Before I could finish my protest, a blue light engulfed me, blinding me. I flinched against the brightness. The light drew me out of the forest and into the blazing sun I’d tried to avoid during our journey.