“You're a Lightwitch,” he said, and, after a moment, she nodded.
“So was Migisi,” she added quietly.
“I would have thought she was the other kind.”
“What you told me the other day about the curse and what I already knew about my family's magic… it proves something I'd kind of already suspected, but wasn't entirely sure about.”
“What?”
“The idea is that as long as a Lightwitch uses her magic for good, she will continue to be powerful. That, in fact, if she does enough good, she can become one of the most powerful beings in existence. Doing evil goes against everything we are. And when we abuse our power, when we cause pain or let pain be caused in our name… we are punished.”
“Punished, how?” Calder asked.
“Our power twists, turns. Dissipates. I guess that explains why my line is so weak in magic now. The curse Migisi put on your line was a terrible thing. It goes against everything we're supposed to stand for, and, even in my limited knowledge, I know that doing something like that has a cost. Any evil we cause, as Lightwitches, comes back to us. So when she did that, she cursed her own line as well by default,” she finished.
“What does this have to do with the warlock and the rose?” Calder asked.
“If you hurt him, I would rejoice in it. I would cheer you on, Calder. I would stand there and watch him bleed and be happy about it. And my magic would suffer. I don't have much as it is, and you expect me to break this curse. And I need to break it so I can have my house back.” She grimaced. If she could even live there in peace, now. Something to deal with later. “If you want this curse lifted, you need to stay out of it.”
“What if I took care of things in secret?” he asked, stubborn.
“I'd know, Calder. It would affect me. Promise,” she said.
“Who is he?” Calder growled, enraged that she was asking, no, demanding, that he not punish someone who'd obviously hurt her. He may not have held the blade, but Calder was positive whoever had been at Sophie's house that night was responsible for the pale scars on her wrists.
She was watching him, those warm brown eyes seeming to see into the deepest reaches of him, the parts he tried to avoid thinking about. “He stalked me for over eight years.”
Calder just watched her. “What else, Sophie?”
“It started when I was fifteen,” she began, and he heard a snarl trying to rise deep in his chest. He forced it down, determined to hear it all. “He followed me everywhere. And I did a good job of keeping myself safe, first with locks and just being careful and, later, after he became more determined, with wards.” He watched as her fingers toyed with the edges of the white napkin under her tea cup. Her fingernails were short, her hands delicate-looking. “At first, it was just creepy watching. Showing up places he knew I'd be. And then phone calls started, after a couple of years. He just got more aggressive as time went on, until it got to the point where I was completely alone, just waiting for the day I slipped up.” She took a breath. “I called the police, finally. The officer in charge of my case disappeared before it went anywhere, and he had no problem admitting to me that he'd taken care of it, that whoever else I went to, including my dad or whoever, would disappear as well. So I kept it to myself, because I knew he would do it.”
She looked up at him again, a small, sad smile on her face. “It got worse. My mom died suddenly the next year, and we never were able to figure out the cause of death. And then my father had his accident when I was eighteen, and I had nothing. So I hid, and I went to work. I married a sweet man who loved me.”
That made Calder want to rip someone apart.
“And he killed him,” she finished quietly, and all of the rage went out of Calder. “I don't even believe I'm telling you all this. I guess I still think of you the way you used to be. We used to do this kind of thing a lot,” she finished with a small laugh, a roll of her eyes.
He wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her that sitting and listening to her had been his salvation when his dad had first started showing signs of the curse, that she had been his rock when he'd felt the first signs of the curse in himself. He watched her, and wanted to tell her every bit of it, and realized it would only make things worse. He'd crossed a line the moment he'd decided to blackmail her, and he had no business, no right, to be in her life now. He'd tell himself that, yet here he was.“You're not telling me everything,” he said.
“It's enough.”
“Enough to make me want to rip his throat out, yes,” Calder answered, and she shook her head. “I won't, at least not right now, because you asked me not to. But I want to.”
She smiled again, and this was a more genuine smile. It actually reached her eyes, and he remembered how much he really loved the way her eyes warmed when she smiled like that. She didn't seem to do it all that often anymore.
Or, maybe she just didn't do it around him.
“And then I was nosing around your property, marking it as my territory… that must have brought back some negative shit for you,” he said after a moment, the realization hitting him.
“Well. It's not the first negative thought I've had toward you,” she said, and he had to laugh at the matter-of-fact way she said it. “I'm not kidding though, Calder. Stay out of it.”
“What about if I just wander your woods sometimes, and, if I happen to come across him, I scare the hell out of him? Can I do that much? Give me something here.”
She laughed again, and it nearly took his breath away. That was still the same. When Sophie felt something, she didn't hide it. Joy radiated from her when she laughed, and when she was angry, she wore it like a cloak. He had the feeling she did everything in her life thoroughly. He realized, sitting there with her, that she was, always had been, the most alive person he'd ever known.
He glanced back down at her wrists, at the scars she'd now hidden beneath the sleeves of her gray sweater. The most alive person he'd ever known. And someone had hurt her, scared her so badly, that she'd wanted, maybe, to give up on her life.
“You can scare him,” she said, watching him. “Chances are, you won't be lucky enough to even get to do that much, because he's very good at disguising his presence. But if you do manage it, I want you to be careful. He's powerful, and evil…”
“Are warlocks the same as witches? So would he be a Shadow warlock?”
She nodded. “So you see what I'm saying. He has no issues with using his powers for evil and he is a hell of a lot more powerful than me. Okay?”
“Give me some credit,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.
“Can I ask you something that's been bothering me?”
“Sure,” he said, watching the way she leaned forward, the way she focused on his face, as if she could read the answer to her questions there. Maybe she could.
“Why didn't you and Jon ever tell the rest of us you were bears?”
“We told Cara and Layla and Bryce once we all got older,” he said. “It must have been after you moved.” He knew damn well it had been. He hated lying to her, but he pushed it away. “We're in a town of wolves. They're not especially fond of bears. It just made more sense to keep it to ourselves. I mean, they knew, if they sniffed around enough. Layla and Bryce figured it out without us telling them.” He shrugged. “Considering everything else my family has going on, having the local wolf pack on our asses because we were going around yapping about being bears seemed to be the last thing we needed. We kept to ourselves.”
She was watching him, and it made him want to tell her anything she wanted to know.
This entire situation is nuts, he thought to himself.
“Was there any weirdness with Layla and the rest of them over the bear thing?” she finally asked.
He shook his head. “Nah. By the time they realized it, we had all been friends for a long time.”
“I think Layla might have suspected it was you on my property.”
“That does not surprise me.”
She laug
hed a little, and damn, did he want to make her laugh some more.
“I should get going. I have reading to do,” she said, starting to rise.
He choked back the protest that immediately rose to his lips, the urge to ask her to stay. Knew, now more than ever, that it wouldn't be welcome. “At least tell me you can protect yourself if your wards fail or something,” he said, standing up with her.
She flashed him a smile, and his gut twisted. “Calder, I can probably shoot better than most of the loud-mouthed hunters around here. I trust in my wards and what little magic I have. If the day ever comes where my magic isn't worth fighting for, know that I can pull a trigger just fine.”
And for some reason, that really, really did something for him.
As if every word out of her mouth, every single gesture she made, didn't already do something for him. She drove him insane, and he wanted more.
“I will keep that in mind,” he said.
“Good.” And with that, and a small smile that made his entire body warm, she turned and walked out of the diner, calling a “bye” to the waitress as she left.
He sat back down, wiped a hand over his face, thanked the waitress when she topped up his coffee. His mind ran through his conversation with Sophie.
He'd keep an eye on her property. He'd try to stay away from her, he promised himself. That wasn't a complication he needed just then, anyway. Even as he made the promise, he knew better. He knew he was hers, absolutely drawn to her, and that staying away was nearly impossible.
After sitting for a while, downing a couple more cups of coffee and trying to figure out his Sophie problem, Calder took a deep breath and headed out. As much as he could have easily spent the entire day brooding over Sophie, the reality was that he had the fallout of the curse her ancestor had set to deal with.
He got on his bike and drove out to the two-lane highway that led out of town. He went in the opposite direction of the way he usually went to get home. Instead, he went inland, away from the coast, deeper into the woods. The longer he drove, the signs started showing up, signs for the state forest in which his father and brother lived.
He loved driving through the woodsy areas of the state. The trees almost made the highway feel like a tunnel, the foliage just starting to show the first tinges of fall color. The air smelled clean, and he could drive miles, sometimes, without coming across another car or bike.
As he neared the land his father had owned for the last thirty years, he steeled himself for what he'd see. He turned left, drove up the long, winding driveway that led deeper into the forest, into the thirty acres his parents had bought, knowing they'd be raising shifter kids, wanting to allow plenty of space for Calder and his younger brother to run.
It had been great until the summer Calder had turned thirteen, which was the same summer his father started showing the first signs of the curse that would eventually destroy him.
His parents had put off having kids, his father dead set against passing his curse onto anyone else. Even knowing it would just jump bloodlines and infect a cousin or whatever… he didn't want to do it. And his mother had been on board with that. So when they found out, just before Robert, Calder's father, was about to turn thirty-five, that she was pregnant, it had thrown both of them for a loop.
They'd come to embrace it, and Calder grew up hearing about how they'd comforted themselves with the fact that, when Robert's curse finally hit, at least she wouldn't have to deal with it alone. She'd have a child, and, they both knew, a son, by her side. And, hopefully, she wouldn't live long enough to see that son taken by the curse as well.
It had all sounded great until that summer. Calder's dad had been in his late forties by then. And on the full moon that July, he'd seemed to have lost his mind. Calder still remembered that night, his mother sitting with the shotgun in her lap in the rusty old pickup truck, driving with it across her thighs, just trying to stay away from Calder's father. Jon was only ten at the time, and was asleep between Calder and his mom on the truck's bench seat.
When the sun rose the next morning, and they knew Robert would be asleep, his mother had dropped the boys off at the cabin, hastily packed a few things, and was gone.
They'd never seen her again. And, to be fair, they really didn't bother looking.
And then he'd lost Sophie, his one light in what was quickly starting to be a nightmare, when her dad suddenly moved the whole family down to Detroit. And he'd never told her about what was happening, because he'd been ashamed to admit what he was.
Calder shook off the memories as he brought his bike to a halt near the side of the log cabin his father had built. It wasn't a big house, but it had always been comfortable, and for a long time, he'd felt safe and happy there.
He didn't bother going inside.
Instead, he went around to the rear of the house, down a well-worn path that led to a thicker part of the woods behind their house. At the end of the trail was the twelve-foot tall iron fence that surrounded the small cabin his father lived in, when he could think to go inside.
But a giant bear had no need for a house, and one that was out of its mind had even less use for one.
Today, like most times Calder came to visit, he found his father pacing back and forth across one end of his prison. In bear form, of course. His thick black fur was matted and filthy, and Calder wished, stupidly, that he'd at least pull it together enough to groom himself again. His gaze was flat, his teeth yellow, and yet still so long, so sharp, it took almost no effort at all to destroy.
Which was why the fence was necessary now. And, even more, why it was, these past few months, also electrified. And Calder knew that, unless Sophie could break this curse, he'd find himself inhabiting the same prison someday.
He smelled his brother nearby. Within a few moments, Jon was standing beside him, arms crossed. They watched their father pace back and forth, occasionally growling or howling in his insanity.
Neither brother spoke for a long time. Jon finally broke the silence. Jon always did.
“So Sophie's our witch, huh?” he finally asked, and Calder nodded, eyes still following his father. “I didn't want to believe it at first. I know it's hard on you. Can she break it?”
Calder forced himself to look away. “She has almost no magic at all. She thinks, and it makes sense, I guess, that the curse that got us came back to bite her line as well. We get this,” he said, glancing at his father, “and her family gets a little less powerful with each generation that passes.”
“Fuck,” Jon groaned. “I guess that explains why Evie was so useless.”
Calder kept watching their father. “She's going to try. We kind of have her at our mercy. She needs that house more than I realized.” He hated himself for saying it, hated that it was true. But seeing his father again, feeling the curse working its way, more rapidly with each passing day into his own life, only reaffirmed that they'd done the only thing they could.
“And if she can't, we probably have no chance at all of ending this. If the magic only gets less powerful…” Jon said.
“I know,” Calder said.
“You have to make her break it. Do whatever you have to. We can't live like this anymore. And I'll tell you right the fuck now that I can't stand by and watch you like that, after going through it with him. I fucking can't, man.”
Calder watched his brother.
“I'm sorry,” Jon said, trying to collect himself.
“You don't have any reason to be. I'm sorry. You're stuck with this and at least I get a break from it.”
“Yeah, but you're also stuck with the curse, so I still think I got the better deal. I'm sorry for laying that on you. Last night was rough. I swear he sounded like he was getting murdered out here.”
Calder nodded. “Almost full moon,” he said, and Jon nodded.
They stood together in silence for a while. “What were the odds that it would be her?” Jon finally asked.
Calder didn't answer.
“I know thi
s isn't easy on you. You didn't like the idea in the first place. And then for it to be her… Someone out there has a fucking sense of humor. I remember how you were about her.”
“We were kids,” Calder said, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice.
“But you loved her. And I know you. The way you were acting the other night, it's clear that's not over. I'm sorry. It's shitty. Does it change things? Because I need to know.” Jon watched him, waiting.
“It makes it more complicated. She's still the same. Sweet. She's not evil. It would be better if she was, maybe.”
Jon was quiet again, seemed uncomfortable.
“What?” Calder asked.
“She wasn't exactly unresponsive to you the other night, either. Surely you could smell it.” Jon paused, gauging his reaction. “That's maybe something you can use, if you have to.”
Calder blew out a breath. That was the last thing he wanted to think about. “He looks like shit.”
Jon took the hint. “I don't know how much longer we can let him go on like this. He took Grandpa out before he got this bad.”
“I know,” Calder said. “And there is no 'we' in this. When the time comes, it's my problem. You've had to deal with this all this time.” They stood in silence for a while. “We'll give him as long as we're giving Sophie. If she can't break it by the solstice, we won't let him suffer anymore after that.” He transferred his gaze to his brother. “Okay?”
Jon nodded, his shoulders bunched with tension. They both knew it would be their job to put their father out of his misery someday. It should have been done before now, if Calder was being honest with himself. As soon as it became clear that his father was unable to take his human form, they should have ended it. A shot to the head, maybe two, if his bear was as tough as he looked.
But Calder had banked on this, on finding the witch from Migisi's line and breaking the curse.
It had to work.
“How are you holding up?” Jon asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“I can feel it. This full moon is going to be a bitch,” he said, and his mind went, first and foremost, to Sophie. He really would have to talk to her. Give her one more reason to dislike and distrust him. “I'm not too far gone yet, though.”
Shadow Witch Rising (Copper Falls Book 1) Page 10
