Cursed at First Sight (Cursed Coven Cozies Book 1)

by J. C. Kilgrave

  Having successfully made it through there, I steeled myself for my encounter with Mason. Seeing him like this, in an orange prison jumpsuit with pain on his face and tears in his eyes, wouldn’t be easy for me.

  I hadn’t been in a relationship with Mason since that fateful night of the prom. It had only taken one dance with Alison Talbot to win his heart forever apparently. It had taken me much longer to get over him though, In fact, until I’d met Nate, I wasn’t completely sure I ever would. That was good for the people around me. A broken heart meant they wouldn’t have to worry about me getting happy and inadvertently causing them grief with my hard luck curse.

  It didn't do much for me though and just like back then- seeing Mason wasn't going to do anything to lift my spirits.

  I was a big witch though. I was going to have to grin and bear it.

  The guard beside me – Randall Hopper-made small talk as we headed to Mason’s cell.

  He wanted to talk about the murder at first, not surprising since that seemed to be the topic of conversation on everyone’s mind in town. But, when I politely reminded him I wasn’t going to be able to engage in that conversation (what with attorney/client privilege and all) he gamely changed the subject.

  “So, you think old lady Reese is going to win the pickle off next week?”

  Old lady Reese made the best pickles in three counties. They were the stuff of legend in Cat's Cradle. So yes, I did, in fact, think she was going to win the pickle off next week. She'd won every pickle off I could remember since the beginning of pickle offs. But I didn't necessarily care about that right now, so I was actually relieved when we made it to the cell.

  That relief faded the moment I saw Mason Blanchard.

  He wore the prison orange of my nightmares and though he wasn't crying- he looked to be the sort of sad that never really leaves you once its settled into your bones.

  Yep. I was right. This wasn’t going to do me any good at all.

  “Thanks Randall. I’ve got it from here,” I said when the guard opened the door.

  “Sure thing, Mal,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at Mason. “I used to wish I was him, you know,” he said, lingering by the door of the cell. “When we were in high school, I used to stare at him on the football field or surrounded by babes at a party, and I remember thinking that I would give anything if I could be like him.” He blinked hard. “Funny how things change, I guess.”

  “I said I’ve got it Randall,” I said, keeping my voice as stern as possible without sounding rude. “Thank you for walking me.”

  “Right,” he said, nodding quickly and understanding what I meant. ‘Well, if you need to leave, just yell. We don’t have one of those fancy buzzer systems yet. We’re waiting on funding from City Hall.” He nodded again. “Fingers crossed.”

  "Sure," I said and watched as he closed the cell door and headed off toward the interior door which led to the cell blocks. He was slow about it though, obviously not wanting to get too far. Maybe he was like so many others in town. Maybe he had tried and convicted Mason without the luxury of a trail and was just trying to make sure I was safe with him. To be fair, that was sort of easy to do after the suspect in question admits to the crime they're being held for.

  That was what I was here to get to the bottom of though. If there was magic involved (like Mason suggested) then I was prepared to find out. And if Chris was right and he just made that up to try to cover up what he did, I would get to the bottom of that too. Though that particular scenario promised to hurt my heart a lot more.

  “Hey there Mason,” I said, walking toward his cot. So many times in high school, I wondered what it might be like to be in Mason’s bedroom. This definitely wasn’t what I had in mind.

  He had been waiting silently as I spoke with Randall and, when his eyes met mine, his face lit up brightly.

  “I thought I’d scared you away the other day,” he said, smiling what I knew to be a rare smile these days. “It’s good to see I was wrong.”

  “Me?” I scoffed, smiling a little to match him and sitting across the table. “It’s going to take more than calling me a witch to send me running down the road.”

  “I didn’t mean to do that,” he sighed, his face falling. “You know I’d never say that about you, not if I was in my right mind.”

  It was true. Mason and I went out for months in high school and while other students were calling my family and I Hocus Pocus knockoffs, Mason never did anything like that. In fact, he'd been to the manor more than a few times, and I never felt anything but comfortable around him. That wasn't what this was about though and given what he was currently going through; I didn't want him to feel like he'd hurt my feelings on top of everything else.

  “I know that, Mason. I didn’t take it that way.” I leaned forward. “Besides, I don’t think you were wrong.”

  "What? You believe me?" he balked, his eyes widening. He looked past me, scanning the area for guards. He wouldn't find any. I was his lawyer, and that meant we'd get at least a little privacy here. Randall was down the hall but, as long as we kept our voices down, we'd be able to talk freely until I called the guard back. "I thought- I thought you'd think I was crazy." He blinked hard, and I saw the beginnings of relieved tears in his eyes. "I mean, I know what people say about your family and I was desperate and confused at that moment I didn't know where else to turn, but I never really-"

  “It’s true, Mason,” I said flatly, leaning even closer to him. “Not the part about us riding on broomsticks or eating the souls of children on Halloween, but the other part.”

  “The other part?” he gulped. “You mean the- the-”

  “Yeah Mason. I mean the witch part,” I said, and let my hand fall into my purse. “My family and I are witches.”

  “Really?’ He sat back, biting his bottom lip. “Were you a witch when we went out?”

  “Yes,” I answered flatly.

  “What about that night at Lake Happenstance, with the fireworks and the stolen bottle of wine?”

  “What about it?” I asked, trying to keep the blush out of my face.

  “Were you a witch then?”

  “Well…yeah,” I answered.

  “And at graduation? And what about that summer we worked for the local fairgrounds?”

  “Yes and yes, Mason. I was a witch all of those times. I’ve always been a witch.”

  He slumped forward, his elbows bracing him against the table. “Well, how about that,” he muttered matter of factly.

  “You okay?” I asked, eyeing him hard to try and gauge his reaction. “I know it’s a lot. If you need a few minutes to process everything-”

  “No,” he said, looking back up at him. “It’s okay. If I can deal with the fact that my father’s a Raiders fan, I can deal with this too.”

  “Mason,” I reached over and took his hand with my free palm. He didn’t pull away, which was a nice surprise given I’d just told him I was a supernatural creature. “I need you to listen to me okay. I think something’s at play here. I think someone cast a spell on you.”

  “A spell?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “You actually think it was a spell. I mean, I know I said that was what it felt like, but hearing it said out loud is something else entirely.”

  My other hand wrapped around Aunt Misty’s vail. Pulling it up, I sat it on the table. “Do you trust me?”

  “I’ve always trusted you,” he answered so quickly that I knew he didn’t have to think about it.

  "Good," I answered softly. "I trust you too. It's how I know confession aside; you couldn't have had anything to do with Alison's death."

  Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his face.

  “You’re the only one, aren’t you?” he asked. “They all think I did it, don’t they? The whole town? My family won’t even see me. I called my mom and she hung up on me. The only visitor I've even had other than you was Alison's mother, and I think she just wanted to scream at me."

  “Let
me get to the bottom of this,” I said, sliding the vail toward him. “This is called Shadow Light. It’s herbs and various other mystical stuff I won't bore you with right now. It's supposed to pull truth from the depths of your mind. It'll take a few days to work through your system but once it does- I'll be able to tell you what happened to you." I patted his hand again. "I know drinking something I just told you is a magic potion is probably scary, but if you'd just-"

  Without a word, he popped the top and dunked it into his mouth.

  “Takes like chalk,” he said, wiping his mouth.

  OI blinked. “You just- you just drank it? Just like that?”

  “You told me to,” he said. “I told you. I trust you, Mal. Always have. You being a witch doesn’t change that. You’re still you, right?”

  “Right,” I answered, smiling. “And Mason, I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I promise you.”

  Chapter 9

  “Why are you tagging along?” I asked Daniel, who insisted on coming along with me even though I told him I didn’t need his help. I even tried to leave him with Aunt Misty, but she didn’t want him either.

  “Well, Suzie Q, if you must know I don’t think you’re capable of doing this alone,” he said, making me want to take off my black high heel shoe and stab him in the eye with it. Everything about him irked me.

  For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why he insisted on calling me Suzie Q after I had repeatedly told him that was not my name. He was treating me like a child instead of a lawyer and I didn't like it one bit.

  “I’m a perfectly capable, strong woman who doesn’t need help from any man, thank you very much,” I told him, attempting to walk faster to ditch him, but it was to no avail thanks to my heels. I reminded myself to invest in some flats. “And just so you know I’ve made it this far without your help.”

  I had half a mind to tell him that I was a big girl and I could take care of myself.

  "Is this where you pitch yours ‘I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself' fit?" he asked, like he was reading my mind. Smirking, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “No, I wasn’t and quit acting like you know everything. It doesn’t look good on you,” I told him, completely lying. He was the kind of man that everything looked good on, but I wasn’t about to feed his over-inflated ego.

  “You were totally going to say it weren’t you?” he asked, opening the door of the mill and not bothering to hold the door for me. Leaping, I caught the door, but just barely.

  We were at the old mill to speak with some of Mason’s coworkers. I made a promise to Mason and I was going to keep it no matter what I had to. I was going to get to the bottom of it. Preferably without Daniel’s unneeded help.

  “Thank you so very much for holding the door. Is that how they treat ladies where you’re from?” I asked, strutting past him as we made our way through the mill.

  “No, I was raised impeccably. I didn’t hold the door for you because you’re a perfectly capable strong woman who doesn’t need help from any man. Remember? I figured you could handle opening a door and walking through it,” he said in that ‘I know all’ tone he had mastered. It was like he had a degree in being a smart alec.

  “Can I help you?” Mr. Langley-the owner of the mill- asked, eyeing Daniel Price strangely. Who’s this funny looking fella?”

  I would have laughed, but that would have been very unprofessional and besides I couldn’t get too happy about it. A giggle from me probably would have made the entire mill blow up and we didn’t need that. We had enough problems.

  “This is Daniel Price, sir. He’s new to Norwood, Norwood, and Norwood,” I said, plastering on a fake smile for business purposes and business purposes only. Everyone knew everyone in Cat’s Cradle and they didn’t take too fondly to people they didn’t know. They thought everyone that lived outside of town was crazy when in reality the residents of Cat’s Cradle were the crazy ones. Albeit, the absolute best kind of crazy.

  "What can I help you with?" he asked, talking only to me. He didn't like Daniel because he didn't know him, but he liked me even with all the talk of my family and me being witches. See? Cat's cradle housed all the crazies.

  "We need to speak to some of Mason's coworkers," Daniel said, pulling a legal pad out of his expensive leather briefcase. The smooth black leather briefcase with Daniel's initials engraved in gold caught Mr. Langley's eye and then he scrunched up his nose in disgust.

  "You one of them city slickers ain't you boy? You reek of money and entitlement," Mr. Langley said, looking Daniel up and down. It was true Daniel stuck out like a drag queen in a sports bar. His hair had to take him at least two hours to style it and I probably couldn't count on my fingers and toes the number of products he used in it. "Maybe some cheesy cologne too."

  “This cologne isn’t cheesy. The lady at the sales counter said it made me smell like a sexy lumberjack. And yes. If you consider being from the ATL a city slicker then yes sir, I am,” he said, smiling like he had just won Miss America. He was pretty enough to give those girls a run for their money.

  “I don’t like him,” Mr. Langley said, causing me to let out the small portion of the laugh I was trying to hold in. Hearing something crash, I turned around and saw that all of the stairs on the staircase had concaved in.

  Mr. Langley glanced at me but ultimately decided to let it go.

  "He's close to Ricky Shafer and Bobby Lyons. If anyone knows anything, it's those two boys. They're closer than the three musketeers," he said, attempting to make a joke. Of course, they would know. Those three had been best friends since they were only knee high to a pig's eye. They would want to get Mason off the hook as much I would. I mentally kicked myself for not thinking of them to begin with, "You think he killed that girl? You think Mason has that in him?"

  “We can’t answer any questions about his case,” Daniel said, holding his hand up in front of Mr. Langley’s face.

  “I don’t think I was asking you, Atlanta,” he said, grabbing Daniel’s hand to inspecting it. “What kind of hand cream do you use? My wife would love for her hands to be that soft.”

  Daniel pulled his hand away and then retrieved hand sanitizer from his briefcase.

  Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to a very annoyed Mr. Langley “Where would we find Ricky and Bobby?” I asked, looking around the mill, but they were nowhere in sight.

  He looked down at his watch and back up at me, "Right now they are taking their lunch break, so that means they're in the break room. It's on the second floor just past the locker room. You'll have to take the elevator because there ain't no way you could make up their stairs," he said, looking over at Daniel and then down at his super shiny dress shoes, "You better watch your step there, city boy. Wouldn't want you to ruin those pretty shoes."

  Spotting the elevator, I walked to it with Daniel following like lost puppy. “So, Suzie Q, what’s the plan?” he asked, deliberately trying to aggravate me with that stupid nickname that made absolutely no sense.

  Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose. The only thing I could accurately compare Daniel to was a migraine that didn’t know when to go away. “The plan is I talk because I know them and you write stuff down. Got it?” I asked, hoping he was good at following directions, but knowing him he probably wasn’t.

  "That's not going to happen," he said, following me into the minuscule elevator. We were stuffed in like an over-packed can of sardines. Accidently getting a whiff of his cologne, I had to admit the lady that sold it to him was right. It did smell like a sexy lumberjack. Shaking that thought from my head, I looked down and focused on my shoes.

  “Was this your plan all along?” he asked, his voice making me think that jail may have been worth killing him.

  “What nonsense are you talking about?” I asked, wondering why the elevator was taking so long to get to the second floor. It was ridiculous. That elevator was moving slower than Mrs. Abernathy in the buffet line and let me tell you that was slo
w.

  “Did you plan for us to be in this small elevator together?” he asked, smiling down at me.

  There was no way he was serious. He had to be messing with me to see how I would react. “I tried to leave you at the office, so no I did not plan this.”

  I didn’t have time for his randomness. I had to get an innocent man out of jail and prove that he didn’t murder his fiancé. But most of all I had to figure out who used magic on Mason and why.

  The elevator doors opened after what felt like a lifetime. Diving out of the elevator, I started looking for the break room. I was in the zone. I had an important job to do, and I wasn't going to let Daniel and his stupid face distract me. No matter how unbelievably handsome said face was.