The memory of her kissing him, what felt like a lifetime ago.
Focus, he reprimanded himself. This was what she was. Letting her bewitch him, throw him off of his goal, would be foolish.
“I knew your property was in trouble before I moved into my place. In fact, it's what prompted me to move back after all this time.”
He watched as her expression hardened, as her shoulders went rigid. “Why?” she asked, in a voice that shook just a little. She folded her arms over her chest. It made her look softer, more vulnerable, having the opposite effect of what it was supposed to.
“You're a witch,” he said. She opened her mouth to disagree, and he held his hand up. “I can feel your power. Don't deny it.” And he remembered. Those first heady signs of magic, her face alight with wonder. He shook it away.
“And you're a shifter. I remember that much.”
He gave an irritated growl. “Yeah. I'm a shifter.”
“Okay. So?” she asked, still glaring at him. She was still like the girl he'd known in middle school. Quiet, unsure, but prickly. He'd found it cute then and, damn it, he found it even more enticing now.
“There's this curse on my family,” he said. “My line was cursed. By a witch.”
“Oh,” she said softly, as if she was understanding something. “I'm not that kind of witch, Calder. I can't lift the curse. The only thing my powers are good for is protective wards and really low-level healing. But curses are something else altogether. And I'm new at this.”
He let out a rough laugh. “I think you don't know yourself as well as you should.”
She didn't answer.
“It was your line that cursed mine. So somewhere in there, you are capable of it.”
She shook her head. “I'm not.”
“You are. And if you want your house back, you are going to find a way to fix it.”
He watched as she stared at him. “I know nothing about curses, Calder! We could both be dead before I figured it out. I can help you find a witch who does that kind of thing, maybe—“
“No. You are going to do it. Your line cursed me, and we've tried everything. The one thing that's supposed to really work is to have the blood that caused the curse, lift it. One of your line can break it. You know that much, at least.”
She shook her head. “No. I didn't know that.”
“You're really that clueless,” he said in disbelief, feeling dread settle into the pit of his stomach.
“I told you. I'm new at this. It came from my mother's side, and she had no magic at all. I never had anyone to teach me anything about it, and my father forbid it, so I learned what little I know on my own. Why the hell didn't you ask my aunt Evie to deal with this when she was alive?” she asked in exasperation.
“Evie was batshit insane,” Calder huffed. “We did try. The old woman couldn't even brew tea without screwing it up.”
“Maybe our magic has been depleted over the years, then, if she was so messed up. I can't do it, Calder.”
He stepped forward, took her arm in his hand, felt her flesh, warm and soft as he pulled her toward him roughly and looked down into her eyes. “You will do this, witch. I don't care what it takes. I don't care what it costs, and I sure as hell don't care if you hate me or not. You will lift this curse from my family.”
She tried to pull away, and he held her tighter. “I can't,” she whispered, and her fear scented the air, nearly sent his beast into ecstasy.
“Here are the terms, Sophie. Listen carefully, because I'll only say this once. You have until the autumnal equinox to lift the curse. That's sixty days. If you don't, I keep your house and your land. And you'll want to run, because my beast seems to have taken a liking to you.”
She stared, shook him off. “I don't think you need the beast as an excuse, Calder. You're a monster without it.”
He stepped back. “Just take care of it.”
He watched as she left, throwing several worried glances over her shoulder. Once she was out of sight, he took a deep breath. He picked up the huge piece of tree trunk at the side of the driveway and threw it, listened to it crash into the woods, rage and frustration making him just want to destroy.
He'd have to hunt that night. It wouldn't change anything. A momentary distraction, but one he needed before he lost his mind. It wasn't anything even remotely close to what he really wanted to do, he thought as he watched Sophie disappear into her house.
If he was a normal man, he'd be flirting with her. Trying to impress her. Instead, he was threatening her. He turned back toward the car. Self-loathing. That was something he was good at.
Why, of all the witches in the world, did it have to be this one?
At work the next day, Sophie's mind was almost continuously on Calder. When she wasn't remembering the boy who'd once been her closest confidante and first love, she was enraged and nearly in tears over the fact that he was blackmailing her to lift a curse she didn't have a chance in hell of lifting. And she couldn't even find it in herself to focus on the curse at all, because of him. Because the angry, cold man she'd spoken to the day before was nothing like the boy she'd known. The Calder she'd known had always been the first to stand up for her, the first one to sense she needed something. This blackmailing, conniving jerk was not the boy she'd loved so much. She really needed to get that through her head, right away, before it ended up causing her even more pain.
She greeted her coworkers at the resort almost mindlessly, as if she was on automatic. She'd been fortunate to land a rare full-time, year-round job in the small resort town she'd grown up in, thanks to Layla and Cara's mother and her connections. She was grateful for it, especially once she'd found out about Aunt Evie's debts. While her second, part-time, job wouldn't start up again until late spring, she could rely on this one, as a maid at the resort, all through the winter. It wasn't nearly as busy as during summer, of course, but they still got the occasional couple on honeymoon or single guy interested in skiing or hunting in the off-season. Copper Falls was known mostly for its beaches, pure sand on the shore of Lake Superior. Its lush woods and mountain views to the south were just added bonuses. The fishing was good, the hunting not too shabby, and the views, according to just about everyone who called it home, the most beautiful in the world.
So she was able to keep busy, which she was grateful for. As she changed bedding and vacuumed rooms and hallways, she forced her mind away from Calder and instead tried to remember what she knew of her family, since he'd said one of her ancestors had done it.
Honestly, she didn't believe it. Or she didn't want to. She had her suspicions, since Calder had mentioned the curse the night before, that maybe the reason she had so little magic, and her mother and Aunt Evie had had none at all, was because one of their line had cursed someone. That was a big no-no for their kind.
Unfortunately, she knew almost nothing about her family beyond her immediate relatives. Her mom and dad were both only children, and there was no magic in any of her grandparents, either. In fact, she was the only one with any magic at all that any of them knew of. Her father had married her mother, knowing she was from a witch family, despite his own dislike of magic. He'd voiced his opinions of magic and its dangers often, making it clear how grateful he was that her mother didn't have any. Of course, it wasn't until much later in life that Sophie learned he'd had a tiny bit of magic of his own, and it terrified him. She wished she could have talked to him about it. She wished she'd known. When Sophie started showing signs of power, she kept it a secret from her family, because she knew they'd freak out.
The fact was, she'd once had more magic than she presently did. When her powers first manifested, she'd been quite a bit more powerful. Powerful enough that her mother had felt it in her, despite lacking it herself, and it had freaked her father out enough that, when he'd caught her practicing a spell, he'd quickly moved them out of the town of Copper Falls, with its other-powered residents. It quickly became a topic of contention between her parents. Her mother, who
was from a long line of witches (even if they were magic-less), believed she should be able to embrace her gifts, while her father refused to even consider encouraging Sophie and her magic. Her mother had started sneaking her books on witchcraft, her ally in trying to figure out who and what she was. She studied, and she learned (thank goodness for the internet as well) many spells, including the fact that there were warding spells you could do to protect yourself and your home.
Those had come in handy a few years later, after her mother had died, after her father had closed in on himself, after she'd begun to feel invisible.
She closed her eyes, forced her mind away from that. “One nightmare at a time, Sophie,” she muttered to herself.
She finished up with her assigned rooms, headed into the dining room, on her way to the kitchen. There were always table linens to be pressed and folded. As she walked through, she smiled at a young woman and her two toddlers sitting near the window, overlooking a gorgeous view of Lake Superior. One of the toddlers was standing on the chair, intent on looking out the window. She saw his foot slip, saw him start to go down, and she mouthed a silent spell, warding him from injury. He fell (she couldn't prevent that, unfortunately) and his head hit the edge of the table. He should have had a bloody nose, or a split lip at the very least, as hard as he'd hit; instead, he sat right up again and laughed at his mother, who was jumping up, ready to soothe him.
Sophie hid a smile and headed into the kitchen.
“Linens?” she called, and the head of the waitstaff grinned and gestured to a pile of newly-washed maroon tablecloths.
If it kept her from thinking about curses and childhood loves for a little while, she'd iron until her arm was numb.
Chapter Four
Sophie drove home from work, singing along to Taylor Swift and, as always, enjoying the scenery on the meandering two-lane highway. Forest on both sides, and the leaves were starting to turn from vibrant green to shades of red and. The sumac at the base of the trees along the roadside were already crimson, like rubies dangling from arching branches.
The sun was just starting to set, washing the landscape in deep orange. She drove with the window down, and let the cool breeze reinvigorate her after eight hours of cleaning up other people's messes. Not that she wasn't grateful for it. She was happy to be back in the place she'd grown up, and happy she could support herself. Not only had it been the place she'd spent the happiest times of her childhood, not only was it the only place she'd ever lived where there was actually a community of “others,” including witches and shifters, but it was more friendly and welcoming than anyplace she could imagine. The year-round residents all knew one another. Her first winter, no less than six people she knew from town had driven out to check on her, knowing she was a city girl and, most likely, needed help. She hadn't, but she'd been touched by the gesture, especially after spending most of her teens and twenties utterly alone.
She rounded a curve and noticed a large form lying at the side of the road. As she got closer, she recognized it as a deer. Its legs were moving, but it seemed to be struggling.
Sophie pulled over onto the shoulder and got out of her car, leaving the car running and the headlights on so she could see clearly in the darkening evening. She reached the deer and crouched down near its head. It was a doe, she realized. She caught movement in the brush at the side of the road. When she looked, there were at least two fawns there.
Looking back down at the doe, she noticed that its left shoulder was bloodied. She touched it gingerly, felt bone shift beneath her fingers, and the doe let out a pained call.
“All right now,” Sophie murmured, keeping her tone low and soft. She rested both hands over the wound, focused. The doe calmed, stopped flailing, stopped its mournful calling. Sophie closed her eyes, focused what little Light magic she had. From what she'd read, she was basically doing everything wrong. It seemed that many Lightwitches felt and went by instinct more than anything else. Maybe it was because Sophie's power was so meager in the first place, but she didn't rely on feeling and intentions. When she closed her eyes, after a while, she could see, in detail, the way the deer was injured, and she worked her magic in and around it as if binding the broken bones. Her magic wasn't a sensation or a spirit or whatever her fellow Lightwitches called it. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. That was entirely possible. But to Sophie, her magic was and always had been more like a tool, something she could focus and use to her own will. There was really nothing ethereal about it, not the way she used it. Maybe if she'd been trained by another witch instead of learning on her own, it would have been different.
It worked, and that was all that mattered to her. Even with the meager amount of Light magic she possessed, Sophie soon felt the doe's shoulder healing, bones knitting back together. Had the break been more substantial, she knew she wouldn't have been able to fix it. Minor wounds, she could heal. Anything beyond that was impossible for her. Her real power seemed to be in protective wards. This was just a side thing she'd figured out as a teenager.
Pulling her hands back, she opened her eyes and looked down at the doe. She was no longer bleeding, and was already trying to stand. Once on her feet, she gave Sophie one final glance, then bounded toward the woods where her fawns were waiting.
Sophie smiled and stood up. The after-effects of using her magic left her warm and peaceful. And, just as the few times she'd managed to heal before, she felt a little more powerful, almost as if Light itself was rewarding her for doing something good with her power.
Sophie got back into her car, took a couple of wipes from the canister she kept in her back seat, and cleaned the drying blood from her fingers. It was dark now, and the woods looked less friendly. Time to get home.
She put the car into drive and maneuvered onto the empty highway. When she pulled into her driveway, she shook her head. The twins' familiar convertible sat in her driveway already, the sisters sitting on her porch waiting.
She got out of her car and slammed the door.
“Finally!” Layla said, and Cara elbowed her.
“You smell like deer,” Cara said in greeting.
“Nice to see you, too,” Sophie said. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Were you saving wildlife again?” Cara asked with a wry smile.
“Maybe,” Sophie said.
“You know we're probably just going to hunt it later, right?”
“Don't. You. Dare,” Sophie said, and Layla laughed. “She's a doe, with fawns. Be nice.”
“Fine,” Cara said.
“Come on. Go wash the deer stink off you… although, maybe not. That might actually work for you,” Layla said, and Cara laughed.
“What in the hell are you even talking about?” Sophie asked, unlocking her front door. The twins followed her in.
“We're going to Jack's. And you're coming with us,” Layla said.
“Oh, hell, no. I am not. I'm going to take care of my goats, and take a shower, and read…”
Cara let out an exaggerated yawn.
“Babe, you're gorgeous, sweet, and you have the kind of boobs I can only get from a really expensive push-up bra. We need to find you someone to get friendly with.”
“I do not need to get 'friendly' with anyone.”
“Girl, if that stick gets any further up your butt, I'm gonna start calling you Popsicle,” Layla said, and Cara snorted. “You need to let loose a little and get your mind off of all of this crap for a while. Now, let's go.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “What are the chances you're just going to get up and go without me?”
“Right around zero, Popsicle,” Cara said, and Layla erupted into a fit of giggles.
“Ugh,” Sophie said, though even she had to laugh at the ridiculous nickname. “Fine. Let me go take care of the animals. Are we in a hurry?”
“Not really. We don't work tomorrow. You?”
Sophie nodded. “Later shift, though.”
“Good. Go do your thing. We'll be here, ru
mmaging through your cupboards.”
Sophie grabbed the bucket off of the back steps, shaking her head to herself. They did this every once in a while, got it into their heads that she needed to be more sociable, that she was sinking into melancholy. And, usually, as with now, they were right. She always felt better after a night out with them, so she didn't put up much of a fight anymore. And they were stubborn as anything. Crazy wolves.
She milked the goats, secured them and the chickens for the night, then carried the milk bucket back inside and put it in the refrigerator.
“It'll be a few minutes,” Sophie said.
“Take your time,” Layla said, flipping through a magazine from the coffee table.
Sophie headed into her bedroom, grabbed a gray tweed skirt, a form-fitting black sweater she liked, and her pair of knee-high black boots. She showered (pulling her hair up and stuffing it into a shower cap, because it would take forever to dry and even the twins wouldn't be okay with waiting long enough for her to mess with her crazy mop of hair). Makeup, clothes, arranging a few of her curls that kept trying to twist funny, and she left the room.
“Okay?” Sophie asked, holding her arms out.
“You are so gonna get laid,” Layla said, and Cara whistled.
“I am not going to get laid,” Sophie said. “I'm going out to have fun and relax and stop thinking about the jerk across the road for a while.” She grabbed her purse and they headed out, getting into the twins' car.
“Speaking of which. Have you talked to him?” Layla asked as she backed out of the driveway.
On the way to Jack's, which sat near the interstate beyond the edge of town, Sophie told the twins about her talk with Calder, about the curse he mentioned, and how if she broke it, he'd give her her house back, free and clear.
“Whoa,” Cara said after a few moments of silence. “What does the curse do?”
“I don't know. I didn't have it together enough to ask him,” Sophie said in irritation as she looked out the window. When she looked back toward the front seat, she saw Cara giving her an understanding look. “What?”
Shadow Witch Rising (Copper Falls Book 1) Page 3
