Curse of Iron

by D. D. Miers

  He glanced at me. “You knew her? I'd heard she’d died and the initiative kind of died with her.”

  “No Grayson, I never got to know her. But, for the first time, I’m wondering if her getting pregnant in her encounter with the Fae prince was an accident, or if she gave birth to me on purpose.”

  He went silent, and I was happy to join him. I’d never put my birth and my mother’s views together, always assuming offering herself to my father’s people was simply because of her belief we should all be equal. But Gideon being her friend…it changed everything. Mom hadn’t just been the starry-eyed, naïve girl Aunt Portia always told me she was. She was a revolutionary, and suddenly, the events of my life started to fall into place.

  “Grayson…was she really close to Gideon?” He grunted his agreement and I thought some more. “Can I safely say finding him dead in my bed wasn’t a coincidence, without re-implicating myself?”

  “I’m having a tough time believing you killed him, myself. But I don’t have anyone else to look to. How do I know you aren’t as sick as people have said, and too powerful already to stop?”

  “You know because you have more than half a brain, Grayson. Even the runes in your arena knew I mean no harm to the shifters.”

  “Runes your mother cast. How do I know you aren’t just immune?”

  I sighed and raised my hands in surrender. “If you don’t know what’s wrong with the logic of my mother creating a warding spell specifically allowing me through, that somehow, she’d have to know not only one day I’d exist, but I’d also be a homicidal maniac who sleeps with corpses…” I shot him a dirty look.

  “Then who do I blame for this?” His voice was thick with emotion, but his face remained a careful neutral. Still, my hand went to his without hesitation and I stroked the softer skin between his thumb and forefinger.

  “You’re right. Blame me, until we find someone else. Just don’t forget to shift the blame when we do. Hate and the drive for retribution can become almost addictive, eating away at everything else inside you. The next thing you know, you’re empty unless you’re satisfying the rage.”

  I glanced at him and his face was only inches from mine. “You have a lot of compassion for me, considering.”

  “Being with you is a thousand times better than being with my own people, Grayson. Even though we can’t trust each other, you don’t hate me.”

  His fingers traced down my jaw, my throat, over my jumping pulse, and he licked his lips. “I don’t want you getting hurt. I can keep you safe.”

  My body begged for his touch, my skin scalding hot, heart beating like a bird trying frantically to escape my ribcage. I’d never felt so much panic combined with anticipation. I bit my lip, barely controlling the urge to invite him up with me.

  Too much had happened, from the grotesque, to the amazing, and I needed to sort it out alone, with my magic, and no one to interfere or distract from it. “You know,” his fingers slowly traced my collar bone and down to my plunging neckline, barely skimming the tops of my breasts as his eyes never left mine.

  I pulled away, chuckling, and took a deep breath. “You are far too distracting to have around while I use magic to find out who broke into my home and how.” I checked the front door again and looked up and down the street. “There’s no cops.”

  “Well, I guess that makes getting back into your place easier,” he said. I nodded and opened the car door, my legs shaky, and my stomach fluttering with equal parts disappointment and relief.

  “Thanks for bringing me along tonight. I know you still aren’t sure about me, and I don’t blame you for not trusting a stranger. But it was nice, having someone else see what it’s like to be me, and not judge me harshly just for existing.”

  He nodded, and I shut the door, hiding him behind the heavily tinted window. With another quick look around for police cars or uniforms, I slipped inside and took the back stairs up to my floor, feeling ahead of me with my magic for traps or snares I wouldn’t see without magical aid.

  The floor was quiet, even Mrs. McMurphy across the hall didn’t stick her head out when I called out to my plants inside and had them peel away the "crime scene" seal across the doorjamb. I slipped in through the narrow opening I created and shut and locked the door behind me, letting the plants replace the seal and slither back into place in their pots and planters.

  I quickly did the same search inside I’d done in the stairwell, but as I feared, there was no magical signature left behind, either because the one responsible was just good, or because it had had time to fade.

  Once I knew the apartment was empty and as safe as I was going to get, I slipped into my room, doing my best to ignore the bare bed and the black powder on all the furniture the police had dusted for fingerprints. At least they looked for someone other than me, I thought before realizing they were probably trying to tie me to Gideon romantically, not looking for a suspect at all.

  My freedom was running out, I could feel the cold fear of impending imprisonment creeping up my spine. You should’ve stayed with Grayson. I silenced the nagging voice in my head. I needed to prove myself to him before I tried to depend on him. The only way I could think of, was to find out who was responsible and serve them up to the shifters on a platter. I could go back to the relative quiet of my life, where the only ones I needed to be watching over my shoulder for were like me, at least enough to know how to defend myself against them.

  I changed into something more conducive to sleuthing, my favorite Panic! at the Disco tank top and faded black jeans, and grabbed a black hoodie with Tell’s Bonds embroidered on it in shiny black thread. The hoodies were a failed attempt at advertising, but all I cared about was the fact the embroidery would be nearly invisible in the dark. Boots zipped over the skinny jeans completed the outfit, and I did a slow turn in the mirror.

  The hoodie covered my violet hair, which was both its natural color and a sign of my Fae lineage. My face was paler than usual and so thin it looked pinched. I took a deep breath to calm down and released it slowly and dabbed a little bronzer on my skin with a brush to make me stand out less. I was still wearing the mascara I’d put on at the office, so I didn’t bother to touch up anything else.

  Out of habit, I checked my wards at the windows before I slipped out the door and back down the maintenance stairs. Nothing on the windows was touched, which meant whoever brought Gideon into my home used the door. I’d had to remove the wards to get my new leather couch delivered by The Fae Bros. moving company and I’d slacked on putting them back up. Which meant whoever had broken in knew my day to day activities. Again, the flashing blame indicator pointed to the covens.

  But there was a witch who might have something to share. I checked for her address online and immediately cleared my browsing history. Some witches had finally gotten tech-savvy, making it necessary for me to learn to cover my tracks better to stay out of the line of fire. I grabbed my herbs, pestle and mortar, and athame. After mashing the sage, queen’s blood, and night-thistle into a woodsy smelling paste, I traced the wards back onto the carpet and the wall around the doorjamb.

  I kept the wards on the carpet far enough, people passing by wouldn’t make it spark, since it would set the intruder on fire. Now try it, ladies. I thought of my cousin dancing as flames licked at her hair and the corners of my mouth turned up. Gross. Bad Morgan. No wishing death on the covens, or you’ll be cursed.

  Kiersten loved a shifter. If the witches hadn’t managed to torture the sanity out of her, maybe she could give me information on why they’d decided to attack me after months of relative peace.

  I caught a cab to my car and drove out to the Laurel Heights neighborhood where Kiersten lived, surrounded by affluent members of the covens. With a silent prayer to Dana for Kiersten so she could, and would talk to me, I rang the doorbell of twenty-two Wood Street.

  Nine

  Just as I stepped back to jog down the steep steps to the curb, the door opened, revealing a pale-face with wide eyes, as
green as bottle-glass. “I know you,” she said, glancing behind her. “Why are you here?”

  “I heard you were in trouble and wanted to check in on you. Can you talk?”

  She licked her chapped lips and glanced back again. “Yeah, do you mind going for a walk?”

  “Of course not, but I can drive you to a coffee shop, too, if you’d like."

  She lifted a necklace out of her shirt, so I could see. “I can’t go more than a block in any direction, but if you don’t mind walking in circles…”

  I groaned and nodded. Fucking witches think they can control everyone. “Yeah, let’s go for a nice, easy stroll.” Laurel Heights was an expensive neighborhood, complete with well lit, clean sidewalks, and street-side gardens full of the kinds of herbs you’d expect witches to grow, combined with well-manicured shrubs and rosebushes.

  “I saw Annabelle today, she said you were being reconditioned.” I sighed and shoved my hands deep in the pockets of my hoodie. “How are you holding up?”

  She pressed the fabric of her shirt to her belly, showing just the beginning of a telltale bump. “I’ve been better. It’s been really lonely. No one talks to me or comes to visit since they found out about...” she rubbed her belly with both hands.

  “Shit, Kiersten, I’m sorry. They didn’t abort it?”

  “They can’t, I made sure Danny’s parents claimed it before they could get me on the thistle tea.”

  I did a little impromptu jig. “Smart girl, if this is what you want.”

  She leaned against a lamppost and chewed on her cheek. “You really came here to make sure I was all right?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? Have you been kept from the other witches?”

  She nodded. “I’m not allowed to speak to anyone alone, but Mother’s asleep and Father’s out of town, so…” She scuffed her toe on the sidewalk. “I’m really sorry.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re sorry.”

  The cheek chewing sped up for a moment as tears spilled over her eyelids to her cheeks. “I was never kind to you when we were younger. People said such terrible things to you, did terrible things, and I never once walked away or stuck up for you.”

  I laughed and cleared my throat. “Sorry, Kiersten, what you saw didn’t compare to the things I suffered through when there weren’t witnesses.”

  “I’m beginning to understand a little better what you've gone through.” she sniffled. “But I still feel awful now I’m the one they’re saying will end the world.”

  I shook my head. “That’s the thing. I’m already here, and they’ve failed to fix me or to kill me. Why wouldn’t they just let you be?”

  “I miss Danny. They won’t let me see him,” Kiersten said. “I have to give the baby to his parents when it’s born, and I’ll never see it again.”

  I sighed. “Fucking covens will do anything to be seen as pure.” I placed a hand over her stomach. “Would you like to know what you’re having?”

  She lit up and nodded vigorously and stroked her palm over the little bulge under her shirt. “They’ve blocked my magic and told me I had no right to know a baby I won't be keeping anyway.”

  “Because of course they fucking did,” I called my magic to my hands, and took a deep breath, blowing out gently and raising a breeze. “My gifts are all about life and fertility, babe. I don’t even need a spell.” I winked at her and she grinned so wide I thought her face would split.

  I let the morning glory invading the edges of the yard we loitered near grow, until it wound its way around my legs and up to my waist and reached out in sweet, curling tendrils for my wrists. “Now, breathe in the breeze, the breath of your Gaia.” She did, and I prayed to Dana and placed my hands on her stomach, the curling stems of morning glory wrapping around her stomach until I felt the warm glow of the divine feminine.

  “What is it?” she whispered, threading her fingers through the flowers blooming around her waist like a living sash.

  “You’re going to be blessed with a daughter, Kiersten,” I sighed. Dana filled me with the same warmth to sustain me when the covens had beaten me down. She started to glow where I touched her, the light spreading from my hands to her belly, and I realized I was already glowing like a small moon.

  The sensation that came with it was electric, and it spooked me enough to cause me to jerk my hands back and dismiss the plants I’d summoned. Kiersten held a small blossom in her hand, a bloom so pale pink, in our twin glows it looked white.

  “I have to protect her,” she sniffed again. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “You have time yet, just lay low for now, and I’ll help you when I have a solution for you. Love is too precious to be lost for the sake of traditions or antiquated rules.” I turned back towards her house and waited for her to join me.

  “I must get word to him, to Danny. He deserves to know he’s going to have a little girl.” She stumbled and grabbed my arm, and I let her clutch me like an old woman, steadying her. “Could you help me get a message to Danny’s parents?”

  I patted the hand curled over my forearm. “Of course, I can, and will." I glanced up at her, marveling. She was physically taller and at least looked stronger than me but leaned on me like I was her hero. No witch had looked at me like that before. “Your love is not going to end the world, and I won’t have you separated from your child, Kiersten.”

  My body ached with the memory of the beatings I’d endured because I’d called out for my mother to comfort me. Kiersten had a chance to create a life with her child, but only if she survived the birth. Her stomach was so small, it was hard to imagine in a few more months there would be an entire tiny person.

  “Look, let’s get you home and inside where it’s warmer, Sugar.” I looked up at the stars as we walked, wondering if my own father had ever even tried to protect me like the shifters were doing for Kiersten’s baby. Everything I’d learned about the Fae was they were like animals, sometimes giving birth and leaving the child to be raised by others for no other reason than they didn’t want it.

  Like animals… except the closest thing we have to animals around here, are the most loyal of the tribes. I stopped at the bottom of the steps. The street was still empty except for us, but I had the feeling we were being watched.

  “What’s Danny’s last name? I’ll get him a message for you.”

  “Burke, His parents are John and Karen.”

  I snickered and cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, but they’re so, so…”

  “They’re normal. Like super conservative and family oriented. John wears sweater vests.” She giggled and shrugged. “I laughed too. Unfortunately, it was when we were being introduced.” Her grin spread. “They were so nice. Karen hugged me and said she understood how nervous I must be.”

  “The mother of the man you love covered for you? Yeah, we need to get you two back together.” A little pang of loneliness made my chest ache, but I did my best to ignore it. “For now, just follow the rules, do what you’re told as long as it doesn’t endanger you or your baby. She’s been claimed. If anything happened to her now, it would start a war, and a war is the top of the list of things we absolutely don’t want.”

  “Sound advice, considering the source.” I jumped and glanced up at an older witch in a bathrobe. “We have no intention of starting a war, do we, Kiersten?” She shook her head and I gave her a quick hug and gently prodded her toward her mother. “You aren’t here on behalf of the elders.”

  My heart raced as I thought quickly. “No, I was just with Grayson Xenos, the interim leader of the shifter coalition.” As a Fae, even a half-blood, I couldn’t outright lie. But I’d learned how to manipulate the rules almost as well as the few full-blooded Fae I knew.

  The woman paled and nodded. “Tell them Kiersten lacks for nothing and she and the child are under the best care.”

  “I will.” I bowed formally at the neck, as the daughter and niece of a family of legacy, the Wicca nobility, she should’ve bowed to me, but as
the pariah of the covens, I had never received such respect. But she bowed, just deeper than I had, her hand over her heart. Huh. I should’ve started hanging out with shifters years ago.

  “Thanks for checking in on me. It was nice to talk to someone my own age for a minute.” I didn’t say anything, but I frowned at her mother, wishing I knew what to say. She made the sign to ward off evil and rushed back into the house, while Kiersten rolled her eyes at me, making me chuckle.

  “Take care, Kiersten.”

  “I will, and thanks again.” She disappeared inside, and I prayed Dana and her Gaia would keep them both safe. As an extra precaution, I pricked my finger and drew a quick symbol of protection on the stairs with the blood, the best magical medium I had in a pinch. I warded it against any who wished death on the inhabitants and got back in my car.

  Sleep was a waste of time and I had too much to do to save my skin. It was already into the wee hours of the morning. Kiersten might not have been able to give me information on the witches. However, she’d given me another way to build trust with Grayson and the shifters. But, my home computer wasn’t licensed for the searches I needed to run to find Kiersten’s baby's daddy.

  Orson wasn’t going to give me another day off anyway, so I decided to get to work, and headed back to the office to gather as much information on my own case as I could before the boss got in and expected real work from me.

  Kiersten would be reunited with her lover, I was sure the shifters would make it happen. Where would I be if the Fae had cared I existed? Would I have someone to go home to? I’d stopped taking guys home after I learned the hard way my touch could cause humans to become addicted to me, sometimes called elf-sickness or being elf-struck. None of the Fae or warlocks in town wanted anything to do with the weird hybrid, so I’d been left to my own devices, which were all getting a little worn down quite frankly.

  I pushed my self-pity aside as I pulled into my reserved parking spot, a generous gift on Orson’s part, considering the cost of parking in the city. Very few people in my life had shown, let alone given me any kindness, but I was grateful for what I had. My first governess and people like Orson were probably the only reasons I hadn’t turned out to be some kind of homicidal sociopath. Part of me had wondered for a long time If Aunt Portia’s plan all along, was to turn me into the monster she believed me to be, so my outright execution would be warranted.