First Cursed [Diablo Falls]

by Fiona Starr

  First Cursed

  A Diablo Falls Paranormal Short Story

  Fiona Starr

  Sexy Starr Stories

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  First Epilogue

  Second Epilogue

  About Fiona Starr

  Also by Fiona Starr

  More from Bite Club!

  And … Don’t Miss Flirt Club!

  HAZEL

  “Damn. Not again.” I watch as the herbs in my bowl turn black and crumble before my eyes. It’s the third time this morning that my magic has failed—which brings the total failures to over a dozen the past two weeks. The custom orders I need to fill are piling up and I have no idea what’s going wrong. I only know I don’t have the time—or the supplies—for repeated screw-ups.

  I check my watch. It’s a quarter after nine. I have just enough time to try this spell again before I have to send this salve over to Mrs. Rue for her arthritis. I grab my basket and step out the back door into the garden for some fresh herbs. Once in the company of all my plants, I usually feel my stress lift off my shoulders, but not today.

  I love being in nature, and the garden behind my shop is a tiny oasis away from the world. But right now nature isn’t really working for me—nothing seems to be working lately. I blow the air out of my lungs and take in a deep breath, careful to clear my head and clarify my intentions before I snip cuttings from the plants I need for this potion. I’m going to run out of nettles at this rate. I would cast a growing spell over them if I had any confidence in my magic. With things going as they have been, I’d probably kill all the plants in the whole garden.

  My dog brushes by my leg as he pads along the garden row and heads in the direction of the shop door.

  I bend and scratch his back as he passes. “Good morning, Skip. Did you have a good night?”

  “Morning,” he says, his small voice thick with sleep. “It got so hot last night I almost jumped in the koi pond. You really should get one of those cold air machines like they have in the coffee store.” He sits by the door.

  We have an ongoing debate about air conditioning. Skip, a blue heeler who is covered in thick fur, is in favor of it. I love AC as much as the next person, don’t like the idea of canned air in my home, which is also my shop; I prefer the air to move and feel natural. Besides, with a garden and an herb drying room, it’s better that it isn’t cold.

  “I know it’s been really warm. If I have time later, I’ll take you over to the river to cool off, all right?”

  Skip’s tail nub wags. “Oh, yes please. I would go by myself if we lived in a normal town. But I don’t want to become someone’s dinner.”

  “Nobody is going to eat you, Skip. That was just one time with a new shifter. Besides, if we lived in a normal town, you’d be just a normal dog. I’m glad you were born in such a magical place. I enjoy your company.” I smile sweetly at him.

  “Magic or no, I could never be just a normal dog.” He rolls his eyes. “And you enjoy my help with your magic, Hazel.”

  “That too. It’s possible to do both, you know.” I drop the nettle cuttings into my basket and move to the rosemary shrub.

  “So you say,” he teases.

  I snap a sprig of rosemary and bring it to my nose for a sniff. “Speaking of which, I could use your help with a spell.”

  “Ah… you see?” he says as if catching me in a lie. “Is it breakfast time? I am starving.”

  I can’t tell if he’s playing or being difficult and it’s alarming. “Come on, Skip. I’m desperate.”

  He looks at me and his voice grows serious. “Are your spells still curdling? Bark!”

  I stare at him, startled. “Skip, did you just bark at me?” I stare at my familiar, who is very much a natural dog, but who has been speaking words to me ever since I found him as a puppy while hiking up near Clearspring Pass. His mom had been killed—I learned later she’d been hit by a passing car—leaving six brand new puppies to fend for themselves. I wrapped them in my hoodie and carried them all the way home. I nursed them by hand until they were ready to be adopted.

  I’ll never forget the night I learned Skip was special. My alarm went off and I rose to start their morning feeding. It was just before dawn and the puppies were rustling in the kennel they shared. I was warming the puppy formula in on the stove when I heard a tiny voice call out, “Mama!”

  At first, I thought I was hearing things, but then I heard it again as I was placing the puppies in the basket to carry them into the garden to for breakfast.

  “Mama!” The voice was tiny, almost toy-like, and was definitely coming from the basket.

  I reached in and lifted one of the puppies, a double mask heeler with speckles. “Did you say something?” I asked the puppy.

  It just squeaked and rooted around looking for the bottle. The same thing happened with the other puppies… that is, until it was time to feed Skip. I placed him in my lap, feeling ridiculous about talking to all the puppies by now, but certain about what I’d heard.

  I lifted Skip up to eye level and asked, “Good morning, baby. Can you talk?”

  He opened his eyes, took one look at me, and shouted, “Mama!” His whole body started to wag with his tail and I had to place him on the floor so I wouldn’t drop him. He skipped around in circles, saying it over and over. “Mama, mama, mama.”

  I named his Skip, and he’s been talking ever since. That is until just now…

  “I am sure you just barked.”

  “I don’t know—bark—what you’re talking about.”

  “I guess I imagined it.”

  I nod and feel my throat close around my words. I take a moment and find my voice. “I don’t know what to do, Skip. I feel like my magic is failing. I haven’t cast a successful spell in weeks. I can’t figure out what’s wrong. Maybe if you join me it will boost my power enough to overcome whatever this is.”

  Skip stands at attention. “Bark! Then, by all means. Let’s try again.”

  I blink back tears. I don’t know what’s going on with my magic, but if I lose Skip… “Thanks.” We move through the door together just as the bell over the shop door jingles.

  Skip does a one-eighty and heads back into the garden. “Bark! Incoming. Bark!”

  Marissa Warfield saunters into my shop, her blond hair piled on top of her head in a stylish messy bun, her face contorted in a fake smile.

  “Hazel! Oh, good. I am so glad I caught you.” Her voice is perfectly sweet and overly polite, especially considering what went down at my coven meeting three weeks ago. My ex-coven, I correct myself.

  “Marissa,” I say, making it clear that she is not at all welcome in my shop. “What brings you in today?”

  She clutches her hands in front of her like she’s about to sing a solo. She inspects a crystal wand on a nearby shelf, turning it in her hand before replacing it back among the others. “I came by to let you know that what you’re doing isn’t going to work, so you might as well just stop.”

  I tilt my head. “And… what is it you think I’m doing, exactly?” I look around the room. “I’m just working, running my shop and doing my own thing.”

  “Right, and that’s why you’ve left the coven. To do your own thing.”

  I nod. “I’ve been saying for years that I would leave the coven when Gertie retires. And that’s what I did. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone.” Of all people, I would have thought Marissa Warfield, mean-girl witch, would have been happy to see the
back of me.

  She waves my words away. “I’m not talking about you leaving the coven. I’m talking about starting up another one. Without me.” She actually looks injured.

  Now that surprises me. “Marissa, you were there when I did the parting ritual. I claimed the path to follow Hedge Witch. You know as well as I do the Hedge Witch rite is for solo practitioners. The last thing I need is a new coven.” Just the thought of starting over makes me feel exhausted.

  “Then how do you explain seven witches leaving after you did?”

  “Seven?” Another surprise. When leadership changes in a coven, just like any organization, a shakeup is expected, but seven witches leaving a coven—eight if you count me—is strange.

  She places her hands on her hips. “As if you hadn’t heard. This week’s coven meeting had a group parting rite. Betty, Candace, Patrick, and the others in their little clique all left. Say what you want, but I know you’re behind it.” She’s dropped her nice act; the rage coming off her is palpable.

  I sigh deeply. If she sees her coven as a group of factions, it’s no wonder they left when she took over. I guess it’s going to take some honest truth to get through to her.

  “Marissa. I started our coven with Gertie.” I picture the old woman in my mind and it makes me smile. “She was my mentor and my guide for many years before you moved to Diablo Falls and joined us. When she announced that she planned to retire, you and I both know that she looked to me to take the role as Priestess. But leadership doesn’t suit me. Never has. And without Gertie…” I shrug. “It was time for me to step away.”

  “You’re a liar. I know you’ve turned some of the witches against me.” She points her finger in my face. “You’re all trying to sabotage me when it is finally my time to become Priestess. Well, I won’t let you do that to me. And I’ve made sure you won’t be able to do anything to me.”

  Her words bring a chill over me and I realize she’s just revealed something she didn’t intend to.

  She looks away and swallows hard.

  I step toward her. “Marissa? What have you done?”

  She lifts her chin in defiance. “Only what a smart witch would do. I have protected myself and my magic from the taint of your evil wishes.”

  “My evil? What are you talking about? I mean you no harm.” I take another step toward her. “You’re being paranoid.”

  “Don’t come near me!” Marissa holds her hands out in front of her and backs up until she reaches the door, her eyes on me the entire time. She pulls something out of her bag and throws it on the floor, mumbling something I can’t make out. Her sound like an angry whisper, a hiss in the air. Then she’s out the door and hurrying to her little red VW Beetle.

  I chase after her, careful not to touch the thing she dropped as I swing the door open and step onto the sidewalk.

  She opens her car door and stands behind, using it like a shield. The morning sun glints off her window.

  I have to squint to see. “What have you done, Marissa?” I can’t hide the alarm in my voice.

  She’s haughty now that there’s some distance and a car door between us. “Don’t worry.” She laughs and then smiles cruelly. “There is hope. True love can break the curse, Hazel. Blessed be!” She sneers like a school girl and I half expect her to stick her tongue out at me as she plops into her car, slams the door, and speeds away.

  I watch her go, my mouth hanging open. “Oh, that bitch!”

  “Language…bark!” Skip scolds. “What—bark!—was that about? Bark!”

  I close my eyes, regret sinking like a stone in my stomach. “I confided in her after Mickey left me. I told her I was afraid I’d never find true love.” I shake my head, incredulous at how spiteful and jealous she turned out to be. “She used my words against me.”

  Skip lets out a breathy bark. “You confided in that sour-smelling person? I will never—bark!—understand humans. ”

  “Don’t judge. I was at a low point and she was an open ear.”

  Skip sniffs. “Bark! You could have waited until you got home, you know. My ears are always available, bark, and loyal.”

  I crouch and hold his face in my hands, looking into his eyes as scratch between his pointy ears. He looks the same. “I did tell you all about it when I got home.”

  He pulls away and pads across the sidewalk. “Bark! Don’t remind me. That was the longest ordeal,” he teases. “But seriously, Hazel. You’re better off without him. I swear, you are surrounded with stinky humans. You deserve someone who smells good.” The barks are coming closer together now.

  I try to hide keep my voice steady. “I’ll be sure to put any future boyfriends through the Skip Smell Test.”

  “Ah, and now you sound like a wise witch. Bark bark! Good decision.”

  I push the door to the shop open and we step inside. I wrap my hand in the hem of my skirt to pick up the thing Marissa dropped without letting it touch my skin. It looks like a ball of crumpled garbage tied with thread. “Come on, Skip. I’ll get you some breakfast and then we can see what to do about this thing.”

  A little while later, I stare at the array of objects from the dismantled bundle Marissa threw on my floor. “Well, that explains what’s going on with my magic.” There are several strands of my long brown hair bound together with a bead of green wax looks like it came from a candle I used at the last meeting, a flower-shaped mother of pearl button that went missing from my sweater, a cellophane wrapper from my favorite strawberry candy (the hard candies with the red and gold wrapper that looks like a strawberry with the blob of soft strawberry goo inside) and a piece of paper with my writing on it—a list of supplies needed for an incantation—that I had thrown away after the last meeting.

  Marissa had collected all of these things—my hair and items that had connections to me, and used them to curse me. “It’s no wonder I’ve been having such a hard time; she’s created a powerful curse.” Made all the more powerful because she used my own fears against me.

  Skip hops down from his chair and looks toward the front door of the shop. “Bark! Now that we know, we can work to remove it.”

  “I sure hope so,” I say.

  The shop doorbell sounds and I glance up quickly. “I’ll be right with you!” I call as I lay down my tweezers and wipe my hands.

  JAMIE

  I drive around the town and let the cobwebs fall off all the old memories running through my head. I haven’t been to Diablo Falls in years. When I arrived last night with my loaded pickup, everything was dark. I pulled into the driveway at the cottage and though I could hear the echo of the familiar falls through the valley, I couldn’t see them.

  Driving around in the daytime, I am pleased to discover everything looks the same, if maybe a little smaller. The town sits like a picture postcard with Blackwater and Clearspring Mountains, the twin peaks that make up the Devil’s Crown, standing tall in the distance. The rushing waterfall spills down between them into the lake below.

  I’d forgotten how peaceful these mountains can be. I used to spend summers here with my family visiting my grandma Gertie at her place just outside of town. Now that she’s retired—gone to live with my brother and his family—she’s offered me her house for as long as I want it, furniture and all.

  Couldn’t come at a better time. When my company got bought out and my job was deemed redundant, they gave me a severance package and let me go. At the time it felt pretty hopeless trying to find a new job at the same time as thirty of my colleagues, but now, with the offer of Grandma Gertie’s house and a nice cushion of cash in the bank, it feels like an opportunity; a push to do something new. Granted, I have no idea what that might be, but something tells me coming here was the right move.

  I woke early and moved the few boxes I brought with me out of the pickup and into the living room to unpack later. When I left the city, I dropped most of my stuff in storage and packed the essentials to bring with me. I made sure I pulled all my camping gear aside so I could get into the mountai
ns first thing. I’m ready to leave civilization for a few days before I start over in Diablo Falls.

  Greene’s grocery store took care of most of my camping provisions, and I picked up a couple of bags of ice at the gas station. As I’m driving out of town, a red Volkswagen Beetle screams backward out of the diagonal parking space and across the two-lane road, cutting me off as it spins in the right direction and forces me to slam on my brakes. The driver sticks her hand out the window to wave at me.

  I shake my head. “Well, hello to you too.”

  The car had been parked in front of Bishop Magick & Apothecary Shop. It looks like the rest of the storefronts on the street, but with more life. There are hanging plants and greenery growing around the entryway, and a sign in the window advertising custom tea for sale. I’ve never been one for coffee, and I grabbed a box of tea bags at the grocery store, but I like the sound of something new. It’s kind of my theme right now, right? Change everything and see what sticks.

  “All right.” I turn into the parking space and head into the shop. A little bronze bell tinkles over the door as I step inside.

  “I’ll be right with you!” a female voice calls from the back of the shop.

  The shop interior is all warm wood walls and floors, with bunches of dried flowers and herbs hanging from the exposed beams. The air is crisp and clean, the scent of flowers and spices teases my nose. Two rows of display shelves create an aisle down the center of the shop. Jars marked medicinal with labels noting the ailment they were made for fill one of the shelves. I spot a spray bottle of natural insect repellant and pull it from the shelf. I will probably need that while camping in the woods, and it’s natural so win-win. Grandma Gertie was always against pesticides, or anything that harmed the environment. It makes me feel good to do things she’d approve of.