Everwish: The Primati Witches Book One

by Amelia Oz

  "Ashamed, Lila refused to return to her true celestial form or ask for help. A tribe of Native Americans found her, feverish and starving, and nursed her back to semi-health. When she remained unresponsive, they placed her in the care of a white medical man who had helped their children recover from illness and who might take her to a larger settlement. She ended up staying with him on his farm, uncomfortable with the more populated settlement.

  "After several years of working side by side with this kind, simple man, Lila found a gentle love and married him. They worked the land together. Lila never used her power, afraid it would draw attention. If their crops flourished more vigorously than other farms no one thought anything of it. They were blessed with a daughter. Then another daughter. Lila and her husband were happy in a tender, borrowed fashion. It was a life she felt she didn’t deserve.

  "In the meantime, Murad had gone wild at the theft of Lila's coffin. He left most of his responsibilities as ruler to Abbas and searched the world for her for many years before tracking her to America. He found her in the woods, gathering kindling for a fire.

  "Their reunion occurred at sunset, a bewitched time when people might be forgiven for forgetting themselves. When Lila saw Murad standing in the forest, she was overcome and ran to him. Unwilling to hurt her husband, however, she rejected Murad. She told him to return to Europe and leave her to her family."

  Thomas paused, his mouth downturned and his eyes suspiciously moist.

  "When she returned back to their homestead, it was to find her home on fire, one of her little daughters murdered on the porch, the scent of magick everywhere. She couldn’t enter the collapsing house to save her husband and other daughter.

  "She was convinced that Murad had done this deed in jealousy. She would have tried to kill Murad if she’d been able to find him then. To say she went mad is an understatement. Her misery affected everything around her as her own special magick rose from where it had been caged. It stormed for four months. The rivers swelled and flooded settlements. Chasms grew and wildfire spread where lightening split the earth. Her gentle husband's only mistake lay in saving her life, her children innocent.

  "Lila renounced her immortality and begged for death but it did no good. Her choices had violated the Creator's law, and there was no response to her pleas. Her human husband had loved her. They’d brought children into the world—when her celestial directive had been not to interfere with humans. She tried again and again to die but would always recover. She became a mad, feral thing, covered in mud and wandering aimlessly from tree to tree, talking to herself. The Native Americans still speak legends of her during that time.

  "No one knows exactly how or why—yet beneath a solar eclipse, Lila screamed her damnation into the four winds and the curse was struck.

  "What Lila did not know was that her elder daughter had survived. She and her father had been spirited away before the fire burned their home. Her daughter inherited the curse, which took the following shape: she would grow to womanhood and attract a mate who loved her. They would procreate a daughter. She would die before the age of twenty-one, never to see her child grow up and never grow old with her lover. Undeserving of a long life by her lover's side or to watch as beloved children grew to adulthood."

  I hugged myself at the reference to a curse. Could this be the curse Sam mentioned?

  "For fifteen generations, these daughters have lived. They met their lovers at different ages. Died at different ages. But none lived past the age of twenty-one. The men always died with them. Whether by illness or by accident, always within a day. Stella, you are the last of Lila's lineage."

  I couldn't stop myself. The solution for this so-called curse was so simple.

  "Thomas, why didn't they just not fall in love, not have children? Wouldn’t that break the curse?"

  Mira nodded, snapping her fingers in agreement.

  "First off, none of them knew of the curse. My people were forbidden to interfere. We only witness. I’m violating a lot of rules by telling you all this. Amanda found out when I…it’s not important. Lila’s progeny died without knowing and unable to warn their own infant daughters. Secondly, the curse is a powerful enchantment. It makes the woman irresistible to her true love, and men in general have seemed drawn to her. I suspect it also influences the woman to fall in love with an acceptable suitor. No one has survived the curse to tell of their experience. What we know is through observation."

  I recalled the attraction I felt towards Alaric. The way Scott had behaved with me earlier. Could that be the curse at work? I hated the idea of anything taking my free will. Could the butterflies I felt with Alaric be the curse? No. Alaric would make any woman weak at the knees.

  "The message Amanda wanted me to convey is that Murad announced at the Primati court that he will finally take a wife. Rumor is that you will be that wife. He’s convinced that he can break the curse as he’s an immortal. His brother, the Lion, has been tasked to find you and take you to him. If you refuse, I think Murad’s Enforcer would kill you. She thinks you should go along with it."

  I stood abruptly, feeling sick to my stomach. "This is all very entertaining, Thomas. I’m not marrying anyone and certainly not an old vampire lover of my great-grandmother many times removed." The very thought was gross and creepy. My cousins led the way back to the tree we’d traveled from. I glanced back to find the tower had become a tent once more.

  "Think, Stella. In two months’, you’ll be eighteen. No one in your line has survived past the age of twenty-one." I thought of my mom, who’d died in a car accident at twenty. I’d never believed in curses and magick. Her young death was a tragedy, a weird coincidence.

  I turned to Thomas. "What’s your role in all this? How do you know all this stuff?"

  "My people are servants of the Goddess Danu. We’ve witnessed Lila's daughters all these years."

  "Witnessed...you mean failed to help?"

  Thomas sighed, pushing his eyeglasses up his nose. "Yes. Until I just broke that vow of non-interference. Something has to change."

  "Pretending all this is real, what do you suggest she does?" Silvan asked.

  "Armed with this knowledge, figure out a way to resist the enchantment. We don't know why, but Stella and her mother are the only daughters who’ve demonstrated any kind of special power. There must be a reason. I know what Amanda thinks but I disagree. Find a way to escape the Lion and Primati King. I’m afraid Murad’s obsession with Lila will lead him to chain you to him.

  "I can help you if you come with me and my family. But it means leaving Sam and your home forever. The tree that carried you here will not work again after I return you tonight. If you decide on sanctuary, just visualize me. Meditate and focus on my ability to hear you. You can also just call my cell," he added sheepishly.

  I would never leave Sam. Certainly not with a pack of crazy people who believed in curses and had secret groves. I lingered over what he’d said about power. What did he mean and what had been her special power?

  "Who are your people, Thomas? How can you travel by tree and create all of this?"

  "I'm a druid."

  Chapter 12

  The Hermit

  Stella

  e decided to stop on the way home to eat. Actually, Mira and Silvan insisted on it and so it was that or sleep in the car while they ate. My brain buzzed too much with Thomas’s words to sit alone with my thoughts in a dark parking lot. The diner she chose was one of those kitschy, twenty-four-hour places with 1950s décor complete with mint green upholstered leather booths, and revolving pies behind the broad Formica counter. The waitress arrived with our orders and we admired her fuchsia colored hair and the silver ball that glinted from one arched eyebrow.

  Mira hummed as she accepted her cheeseburger with steak fries. Silvan groaned when a plate of chicken and waffles appeared before him. Pancakes slid in front of me, the whipped cream glossy and dotted with blueberries. The waitress walked to the only other o
ccupied booth in the room where a group of men in truck driver hats dug into their meals.

  I picked up my cup as Mira thrust a spoon into her strawberry malt. It wasn't the freshest cup of java but better than none at all. I took a careful sip, waiting for the caffeine to hit.

  "Thanks for being okay with stopping," she said. She tapped the bottom of an Elvis figurine that served as a salt shaker. "I’m craving greasy diner food. It feels like I've been at a rave all night." I seriously doubted she’d ever been to a real rave but left it alone.

  "S’kay. You guys have gone along with me plenty tonight."

  I glanced at my phone. It was four in the morning. Thomas had returned us to Stonehenge using the same hemlock tree. He'd refused to answer any more questions, just made us promise once more not to tell anyone about the night and climbed into his Gremlin. There’d been something forlorn about Thomas outside the grove now that I'd seen him there.

  "So, Thomas is quite a snack," Mira said casually. Silvan choked on his food. I speared a trio of blueberries on the tines of my fork and tried not to appear surprised.

  "We shared class instructions for a couple of years—that’s how Silvan met him—but I really don’t know him. He isn't usually so... chatty."

  "Whatever you say. If he ever asks you for my phone number, though, you can give it to him." I blanked, unable to imagine two more different people than Thomas and Mira.

  "Thomas? You seemed to think he was pretty lame tonight. And we’re not living in the Victorian age. If you like him you could just ask for his cell number."

  "Never! I would never call a guy." She looked deeply offended, her mouth rounding with shock. I raised my eyebrows over another dose of coffee. As flirty as my cousins acted, they were actually quite rigid about it being the men who chased the women. Midora's husband had asked her to marry him three times before she consented, and I knew she was crazy about him.

  Mira changed the subject. "Do you believe all that stuff he said? About the curse and how the Lion is coming for you?"

  I flinched. "Undecided. Are you going to tell Midora and Medea everything that's happened tonight the second you get home?" I asked.

  Silvan laughed and wiped grease off his chin before offering me a fist bump.

  She swatted his shoulder. "I can keep a secret. I don't think anyone would believe it anyway, do you?"

  No. They probably wouldn't. But she’d avoided my question. I dipped a piece of pancake into maple syrup and deliberately locked gazes with her. “Maybe not. But if you do tell, I’ll make you regret it. For a very long time.” Facts were facts.

  Mira narrowed her eyes at me. Silvan grabbed the back of her neck and shook her gently. “She won’t say anything, will you, cousin? If she does, she’ll have me to contend with.” Mira shoved him away. “Get off.” I waited with my fork still raised.

  “So paranoid, Stella. I won’t tell anyone,” she confirmed, rolling her eyes. I relaxed and took a bite. Mira glared at Silvan but he smiled at her like a proud parent.

  "So, what are you going to do?" Silvan asked me.

  "I'm going to stop looking for Amanda for the time being." If she wanted to stay hidden, I had to accept it. Besides, I had new problems of my own to deal with.

  "No, I mean—what are you going to do about the curse?"

  There it was again. Only now, under the florescent lights of the diner, it seemed pretty silly to think my own distant relation might be the story behind a fairytale. But what if it was real? I mean, they must have tracked all those generations to confirm no one survived. For fifteen generations, a number I could barely wrap my head around.

  I put down my fork and tore my paper napkin into strips. "My plan is simple. Not that I was likely to fall in love, anyway, but I just won't date until I'm twenty-two. Maybe even twenty-three to be extra careful. And I’ll try not to be kidnapped by vampires or lions." I added what I thought was a convincingly confidant smile.

  "I’m immune to those dimples. It sounds like the curse will make you fall in love."

  "No one is immune to my dimples, and no one can make me do what I don't want to."

  Mira narrowed her eyes, her jaw working until the French fry she was munching disappeared. "There is that. If anyone was stubborn enough to beat a curse, it's you, Stella.” I wasn’t sure if Silvan agreed with her as he muttered something I couldn’t hear.

  I was touched. Really, truly touched. "Thanks, Mira." She grinned.

  "You know, that obsession you have with the truth isn't healthy, right? Knowing everything doesn't bring happiness. Sometimes people withhold truth for another person's own good." Nope—truth is everything.

  "Did Mahari really tell you to stay with me tonight because of a curse?"

  She sighed and stirred her malt while Silvan inhaled his food.

  "Yes. Baba pulled the family together and told us that we were going to start taking shifts watching over you for the next few weeks. She even made up a signup sheet and everything. I volunteered for the first shift."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'd never seen your house. I mean, none of us have, but I've always been curious. Plus, I wanted to ask you about that guy you were with at the market. He was delicious."

  "Alaric," I said, stealing one of her fries. "I don't really know him."

  “Stay away from boys, Stella. I didn’t like how he acted with you. Like you’re something he wants. A lot,” Silvan warned. I shot him a “duh” look but his words circled again and again in my mind. Perhaps I’d had more of an effect than I imagined. Mira cocked her head but I managed a poker face until she refocused on her meal with a final comment.

  "Well, with the curse, that's probably a good idea."

  * * *

  It was early morning when we pulled into my driveway. Emerging sunlight streamed through patches of low fog, causing the trees and grass to sparkle with dew.

  "Well, my shift is over. Uncle Remi is next. He sleeps late though so you probably won't see him at the end of your driveway until ten or so." Mira said. Silvan snored softly from the backseat. I climbed out of her car and watched as she drove back down the drive. Huh. I thought Uncle Remi was still in prison.

  When I opened the front door, it was to find the new night nurse eating a bowl of cereal. She rose from the stairs without saying anything and shuffled towards Sam's room. Weirdo. I didn’t trust her. I followed her down the hall to check on my sleeping grandfather.

  I froze in the doorway, stunned. Sam was awake and dressed in regular clothes. Nancy smirked and plopped down in his favorite club chair.

  "Hey, Stella. Good morning," Sam called cheerfully.

  "Good morning, yourself. You’re up early.”

  Sam fastened a pair of red suspenders over a button-down shirt. He moved easily, the creases of pain in his face relaxed for the first time in months.

  His frown was good-natured. "What do you mean? I always wake up early."

  I glanced at Nancy and bit my lip.

  "How are you feeling, Sam?"

  "Fit as a fiddle! Haven't slept so well in years."

  I itched to talk to Sam, but not with his creepy new nurse as an audience. When Carol came for her morning shift, I’d ask her about Nancy’s background. We played half a game of chess and I went up to my room.

  Mira's discarded clothes were still in a heap on my floor. I shoved them into a canvas tote and changed my bed linens. I then took a long, blistering shower, lingering until our ancient hot water heater surrendered and the pipes ran cold. Wrapped in a robe and towel turban, I stood in my room, undecided on next steps now that Amanda was declared safe. My bed looked so comfortable. I gave in and stretched across my duvet to stare at the ceiling. I thought of Lila in her glass coffin within an Ottoman tower. Had she dreamed? I crossed my arms at the waist and imagined being entombed on a satin bed, nothing between me and the world but a thick layer of glass. I think it would feel like a living death. It was the last thought I had for several ho
urs.

  Chapter 13

  Hermit Reversed

  Stella

  ater that afternoon, I stood on a street corner of downtown Portland with a to-go cup of Stumptown coffee in each hand. Tilting my face to the sky, I closed my eyelids to better feel the wetness coating my lashes and skin. It was drizzling, the kind of thick mist that Portlandia was famous for. I opened my eyes and studied the hotel.

  The Regis Arms was elegant and modern, complete with a red suited doorman who’d already asked twice if I needed assistance. He was now occupied helping a couple with their luggage, and I was glad for the break in his attention while I stood on the sidewalk and mined for courage. You can do this.

  I'd woken from my much-needed nap with an idea that would not go away. I didn't have a lot of connections in life that could help me and didn't want to involve Sam. I needed someone on my side. Someone without any self-interest who could act as a buffer in case the stories about the Noble King and Lion were real. I needed someone who could observe and see things I couldn't and who could intervene if I were kidnapped. Or, at least reliably report my abduction to law enforcement.

  Unbidden, Alaric had come to mind. Hadn’t he said he worked in security? That could mean anything from cyber spy to mall cop. The odds of his being in personal security were slim, but I didn't know anyone else to ask. If anything, he might have connections.

  Stop being a coward, Stella. March in there and just ask him.

  There was a chance he wasn't here, but he'd said he was in the city for another week. I knew a few of the hotel desk people as I'd gotten a gig here last summer, helping a contractor paint the walls across from the lobby elevators with historic city portraits. If one of them were working this morning it might make this a little less embarrassing.

  I made eye contact with the doorman. He studied my holey jeans, Adidas sneakers, and grey t-shirt, his polite visage giving nothing away. I took a tiny step towards the hotel entrance, and he reluctantly swept the door open.