Curses, Fates & Soul Mates

by et al Kristie Cook

  “Will it kill him?”

  She was a very determined woman, our Mrs. Davidson.

  “Killing him is a little blasé, don’t you think. This way, you get the vengeance you want and he’s stuck with the suffering.”

  I demonstrated the many uses the voodoo-looking doll I’d produced could affect on the person it targeted. The doll actually had nothing to do with voodoo. It was charmed by my aunt, a form of grey magic that caused minor, mostly embarrassing, calamities to the person it was used against. Think hair loss or impotence.

  Mrs. Davidson seemed impressed but not wholly convinced. And I was almost out of Hershey’s kisses. In other words, my patience was goooone.

  “It won’t kill him?” she asked again, staring in fascination at the little doll smiling wickedly in her direction. Darn, but she was dense!

  I picked up the doll while reaching for the bag of chocolate and yelped when my hand met human hair instead.

  “Jesus!”

  My heart pounded as I glanced down, my eyes meeting the forest green irises of a dark-haired man. I recognized him instantly and my blood ran cold. Luther Craig. Luther flipping Craig!

  He was sitting, leaning casually against the counter, one leg propped, his arm flung across it. His other hand rested against the floor. His black hair gleamed blue in the fluorescent lighting.

  “Try again, Witch,” he mouthed, one brow cocked, his full lips quirked.

  The suave Luther Craig. Luther Craig, hybrid Demon. Luther Craig, the son of a she-Demon named Lilith and the notorious cursed Cain, son of Adam and Eve. Luther Craig, the brother of the Demon my best friend, Dayton, was bound to. Luther dead blamed Craig, a man I thought I’d never see again.

  The two of us didn’t actually have much of a past together. It was more like a sole moment in time. Most of the history we shared revolved around his brother, Marcas, and my bestie, Dayton, but there was one occasion no one knew about, one single occurrence when during Dayton’s adventure we’d been left alone following Marcas and Dayton’s escape from Italy and before the arrival of a fallen Angel named Lucas. A single, lone, solitary moment that still haunted me.

  “Do I frighten you, Witch?”

  I leaned away from Luther, backing up until my shoulders were against the door of my temporary bedroom at S.O.S. headquarters.

  “No,” I answered.

  We both knew by the way my voice wavered I was lying.

  “How did you do it?” he asked.

  I knew he meant the amulet I was wearing, the same necklace I had gifted Dayton before she and Marcas had left, the same necklace I had given her right before Luther supposedly disappeared. And yet here he was, and no one knew he was here.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  His hand came to rest next to my head, his face only inches away from mine.

  “Don’t play games with me, Witch. I’m not the good guy here. Understand? If you want good, scream. There’s a fallen Angel downstairs who’d be glad to rescue you.”

  Lucas was an Exiled Angel who had shown up to talk to the head of the S.O.S., a society that protected certain religious artifacts, mainly those once used by King Solomon in the Bible. My father and two of my brothers worked for the S.O.S. It was strange really considering me, my mother, and my third oldest brother were all Wiccans. But it worked.

  “You won’t harm me,” I said confidently.

  Luther’s eyes narrowed. “How did you do it?”

  His eyes bore into mine, and I lost the staring contest, turning my head away to glance down the hall.

  “I don’t know.”

  I was being honest. My magic was strange. I didn’t understand it. All I knew was that when Luther or any other Demons were near me, I could “feel” their energy. It crackled, like electricity, and the more powerful they were, the more it hurt to be near them. And yet … I fed off of it. By accident, I had learned standing next to a Demon made it easier for me to perform my own magic. I had also figured out how to block it.

  One day, while clutching a piece of quartz, I had pierced my skin with the crystal, allowing the resulting blood to mingle with the gem as I called on my ability, using it to block the electric energy I felt when I was around a Demon. What I had not counted on was the strength caused by mixing quartz, blood, and power. It kept a Demon from possessing me, from possessing anyone who wore an amulet produced the same way.

  Luther watched me, his eyes searching before finally pushing away from the wall. I took a deep breath.

  “I want an amulet,” he ordered.

  I stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  He looked amused. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t stutter.”

  There was a bad movie joke there, and I was prepared to make one, but one look at the Demon’s eyes and I knew it wasn’t a good idea.

  “Why?” I asked instead.

  Luther leaned in again. “I wonder if you know how appealing you are, Ms. Jacobs. Your blood is hard to resist. So, let’s make a trade. You give me an amulet, and I’ll promise not to kill you. Got it?”

  I gasped. I knew the sons of Lilith and Cain craved blood. They were like the mythical vampires with the exception that they didn’t need blood to survive. They just liked it.

  “I’m not afraid,” I whispered.

  “The amulet,” Luther insisted.

  His green eyes suddenly shone red, and I looked away again, pulling a piece of twine away from my neck. I pulled it over my head, cursing myself for my weakness. I did fear him, but I was stronger than that. My instincts were telling me to give him the necklace, and I trusted my instincts.

  As soon as the quartz touched Luther’s palm, he winced before pulling the makeshift amulet over his head. It landed against his black t-shirt.

  “I appreciate that,” he said wryly, before leaning so that both his hands trapped me against the door. “You’re a strong one, Witch. I can feel it.”

  One moment, his red eyes watched me, the next his lips were pressed brutally against mine. It was painful, it was brief, and it sent shivers all the way down to my toes.

  He pulled away. “For the amulet,” he said wickedly.

  And with that, he disappeared.

  “You okay, girl?”

  Mrs. Davidson’s impatient voice broke into the memory, and I placed the spelled doll quickly in front of the register, my hands shaking as I tried to ignore the Demon at my feet.

  I wasn’t doing a good job. It was hard to pretend an over six foot male in dark blue jeans, and a black leather trench coat wasn’t sitting confidently a few inches from my leg. And I was wearing a dress!

  “L-look, Mrs. Davidson, we deal in a lot of things at Southern Charms but murder is not one of them. It’s either the doll or you can leave here, procure a hit man, and cash in the life insurance I just know you’re itching to get your hands on.”

  I was being cynical, but trapped between a murderous woman and an Adonis Demon, cynical seemed tame.

  Mrs. Davidson didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll take it.”

  “That’ll be $12.50 then,” I muttered before bagging the product and handing it to her.

  People like Mrs. Davidson really got under my skin. She was, after all, only asking for trouble in the long run. Revenge eventually came back on those who sought it three-fold. No need to point that out though. I had $12.50 in the cash register and a Demon sitting behind the counter. I was not accountable for what happened to the woman once she left the store. Life would be so much simpler if people weren’t so interested in the dark arts.

  “Have a good day,” I said as Mrs. Davidson exited the shop in a dignified fashion belying her reason for stopping by.

  “I’m trying to decide whether or not to remark on your current choice of employment or your delightful choice in underwear,” Luther’s deep voice drawled from the floor as the front door dinged closed.

  I stiffened, reaching for a feather duster lying on the counter before attempting to clock him upside the head. He moved out of reach, his in
human speed intimidating as he suddenly stood across from me, the counter between us.

  “Seriously?” I asked, still brandishing the duster, my hands tight to keep from trembling. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  CHAPTER 3

  Today, I met Luther Craig. It’s really all I know to write. He’s a Demon, and I can’t keep him out of my head. Sure, he’s handsome, but I don’t think that’s it. There’s something about him. He’s arrogant and scary, but beneath all of that, I see something even more terrifying. I see myself.

  ~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~

  The door leading upstairs opened before Luther had a chance to answer, but his eyes stayed locked on mine, red glinting on green. I didn’t have to see NeeCee to know she was in the room with us, and I refused to look her way.

  “Monroe?” NeeCee asked.

  I raised a hand to silence her just as Luther’s eyes narrowed.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  I knew he felt the change in energy, knew he could tell that my powers were no longer tied to Demons. It’s why I hadn’t felt him arrive. It confirmed my suspicions. NeeCee had done a power swap spell. We had switched magic.

  “I won’t let you hurt her,” I said quietly.

  Luther took a few steps backward, the leather trench coat he wore moving around his legs as he glanced between my spectacled wide-eyed cousin and me.

  His lips quirked. “Well, this is a complication.”

  NeeCee’s face was now completely ashen. I knew the pain she was feeling, the electrical charge that was rippling even now through her body. Luther was strong. His power hurt.

  “He’s a Demon,” NeeCee whispered, her awed words directed at me as she edged my way, her back staying near the wall.

  “He’s a Neanderthal. Being a Demon makes it worse,” I muttered, feeling foolish now as I let the feather duster fall to the counter.

  Luther shot me a look.

  NeeCee gasped. “God, how do you stand it, Roe? It hurts.”

  NeeCee was speaking as if Luther wasn’t in the room. She was scared. She did that when she was afraid.

  Luther stepped forward again, his hands on the counter, his eyes on mine. “What did you do?”

  I didn’t flinch. “It was a power swap spell. An accident. My cousin has my powers now, and I hers.” Luther cursed, and I leaned forward. “Why does it matter, Demon? What are you doing here?”

  Luther sighed, pulling the stolen amulet around his neck out from under his shirt, letting it land on the black fabric, the glow obvious. NeeCee sighed in relief. It helped with the charge between them.

  “I owe your friend, Dayton, for helping my brother,” Luther said. “And you, Witch, are in trouble.”

  I watched him, unease invading my gut. “Dayton sent you?” I asked.

  He laughed shortly. “Not exactly. Warned me away to be exact, but the inept fallen Angel they have watching you is not capable of handling what’s coming your way.”

  My eyes widened. Fallen Angel? As in Lucas? Watching me? For how long?

  NeeCee was at my side now, her presence obvious behind me. “Demons and Fallen Angels?” NeeCee hissed in my ear.

  I ignored her. “What’s coming my way?” I asked.

  Luther grinned then. “Hellhounds.”

  I swallowed hard. I had only seen a Hellhound once, but it was enough. They were terrifying creatures. The size of a horse, muscular, with black, sharp fur and sickly green eyes that shone red when they were furious. They smelled rancid, like sulfur, and they emitted smoke and flame from jaws made to kill. They were escorts and guardians of Hell, sent to bring souls to the Underworld.

  “Why?” I whispered.

  Luther stared at me, no answer forthcoming. It was a stupid question. I knew why. I had stood before Lucifer once and kept him from possessing Luther in order to use the hybrid against innocent people. I had given amulets to Satan’s enemies to keep the Devil from messing with them. I was pretty sure there were nice, large Wanted posters of me all over Hell.

  “It’s nice to know you consider me so incompetent, Demon,” a male voice broke in wryly from across the room, and I closed my eyes briefly. No. Lucas.

  Luther laughed. “I was wondering how long it’d take for you to ride in on your glowing, pompously arrogant white horse.”

  The fallen Angel moved out from behind a tall, indoor water fountain shaped like a mermaid and hung with Mardi Gras beads, his longish, golden hair glowing as he moved. He was a tall man, built with blue eyes offset by a pair of stonewashed jeans, and a loose, untucked button-up white shirt. He was light to Luther’s dark. Luther and Lucas. L&L, as I had come to dub them. So much alike in name, but so different in every other way. I had even less a history with Lucas than I did with the Demon, Luther. I’d certainly never been kissed by him.

  “I feel like we’re in some sort of freakish Calvin Klein photo shoot,” NeeCee whispered from behind me. “I mean, seriously, I knew you had a past, but ... wow.”

  “I’m guessing you figured out the spell you did,” I answered her.

  She moved closer. “Yeah …”

  “Is there any way to undo it?”

  NeeCee grew quiet. Quiet was never good. My attention returned to the two men dominating the room.

  “This is my job, Demon,” Lucas growled.

  That got my attention.

  “Wait,” I said. I pulled away from NeeCee and moved out from behind the counter. “Job? I’m not a job.”

  Luther shrugged. “Maybe not before, but you are now.”

  His eyes were on NeeCee who was staring hard at the floor, her face red. Lucas watched the exchange curiously.

  “What happened?” Lucas asked.

  I looked at the fallen Angel. “My cousin and I swapped powers.”

  I didn’t blame NeeCee for the spell. It was better to keep the focus on me. Even with my magic, she wasn’t prepared for the Hounds coming to take me away, and she certainly wasn’t prepared for the two men in the room with us now.

  Lucas looked horrified. “Swapped?” he repeated.

  Luther moved toward me, and I stepped away from him. This amused him, I could tell by the way his eyes sparkled.

  “This could work to our advantage,” he said, his voice low.

  The sound reverberated down my spine.

  “You have no place here, Demon,” Lucas said hotly.

  Luther ignored him. “Show me the spell you did.”

  He was eyeing Bernice, and I knew he was aware she had been the one to cast it. Luther was an observant man. Scarily observant.

  NeeCee didn’t hesitate, her shaking hands lifting the Ayers grimoire before holding it away from her.

  “Page 140. It’s in Latin,” she warned, placing the book on the counter.

  Luther took it, flipping through the pages easily before focusing on the spell NeeCee had confused with an incantation meant to reverse my connection with Demonic energy. I knew without a doubt Luther knew Latin. He knew a lot of languages.

  “This is more than a complication,” Luther muttered before throwing the book at Lucas.

  The Angel caught it easily, skimming the page before uttering a word no Angel should be allowed to utter as he handed the book back to NeeCee. Maybe it was the whole fallen thing.

  Luther was standing before me, his eyes scarlet, when the door to the back swung open.

  “You’re both coming with me,” he said.

  CHAPTER 4

  Today, I meditated. It sounds funny, I know, but sometimes I think best when I’m still, when I close my eyes and listen. There is so much a person can hear when the eyes are gone; the wind, the trees, insects, life. I am anxious, I think, because the energy I am beginning to feel from Demons is beyond painful. I want to find a way to stop it. While meditating, I held a piece of quartz I’d used in a spell earlier in the week to help keep me focused. The corner was too sharp, and I pricked my finger while chanting a protection spell. It did something. I’m not sure what y
et, but it definitely did something. I think I’ve found a way to help myself.

  ~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~

  “What’s going on?”

  My aunt’s voice was shrill as she and a big bosomed raven-haired beauty moved into the room. Belle, my aunt’s protégé and a hopeful Pierre de Lune Coven initiate, had been with the Coven only a few months. Belle was a few years older than me, maybe 21 or 22, and she honestly reminded me of a stripper. She dressed as if she worked in Hooters for God’s sake. Though, I guess I would too if I could have been their poster child. I was an easy full size B, but Belle looked surgically enhanced. Her gaze moved easily between the two men before us, and I could swear I saw her lick her lips.

  Luther didn’t pull any punches, winking quickly at Belle before turning to my aunt. “I’m here for your niece and your daughter.”

  “The hell you are,” Lucas intervened.

  My aunt blinked once, her face taking on an expression I knew only too well. She wasn’t the head of her Coven for nothing. And she was a witch. She knew a Demon and an Angel when she saw one. It was more than obvious Luther and Lucas were not human.

  “Care to explain?” she asked as she motioned at NeeCee.

  Bernice started to move around the counter, but I grabbed her hand before she had a chance to move past. Her astonished gaze met mine. Her mother shared the same expression.

  “Monroe?” Aunt Clara asked.

  I avoided her gaze. “There’s danger coming—” I whispered.

  “And it’s coming for your niece and your daughter,” Luther finished for me.

  My aunt glanced between us. “What did you do?” my aunt asked, her eyes on Bernice.

  I suddenly felt defensive, pulling my cousin behind me as I faced Clara. “We did a spell we thought would help me. Instead, it swapped our powers. Bernice is now connected to Demonic energy, and there are Hellhounds looking for me.”

  Aunt Clara’s face went white. Completely colorless. Belle stepped forward, moving gracefully despite her perky bosomotic (is that even a word) mother load.

  “A Coven stands behind its own. We can protect them,” Belle said firmly.