Page 3 of Curses and Cauldrons

It takes me another minute of deep breathing to get my heart rate under control. With a groan, I pick up my massage table and stumble to my car. By the time I pull into my parking spot, I have to give myself a pep talk to stand up and walk the short distance to my apartment.

I just need some food and a nap, and then I’ll feel better. Not great. I never feel more than mediocre, but at least I can calm the shaking. Such is life when you're cursed to feel pain whenever you touch someone. To make matters worse, my job requires physical contact. It’s hard to give a massage without putting your hands on someone.

“Why don’t you just run away to California? Where there’s no snow and the sun shines all the time. Your mother would be thousands of miles away,” I mumble into the still cold interior of my car.

I sigh. That’s not ever going to be an option. At least not while my mother dangles my youngest sister Penelope as blackmail to get me to obey. While that’s a huge part of the web I’m trapped in, it’s not just that. I know my healing abilities help people. My coven is proud of the work I do. How can I walk away from that? How selfish would that be?

My apartment is one of four in a federal-style building that was once a single-family home. It was converted into four units sometime in the eighties. The red brick exterior was painted white at one point and then never again. The white has chipped and faded until the red has started peeking through, giving the building a pink appearance. Creeping ivy partially covers thebuilding. The tree-lined sidewalks are brick and hell to walk on with heels, but so damn pretty, I don’t care.

Walking up the handful of steps to the front door is murder on my thighs. My feet are leaden weights. My grip on the iron railing is so tight I’m testing how securely it’s fastened to the steps. I punch in the building code and sigh with relief once I step inside. A long stairway with a carved wooden banister leads to the two apartments upstairs, but my place is the first door to the right.

Two of my best friends, Stellan and Piper, also have an apartment in the building. We’ve scooped up the open apartments here as one tenant and then the next left. Stellan’s sister, Ava, would likely live here, too, if she hadn’t moved into her boyfriend's place a year ago. I love having them so close. That also means there are no secrets between us. Not that I have any secrets to keep.

My key barely clicks open the lock on my door when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I slump against the door to close it and fish my phone out of the tight back pocket of my leggings. My head hits the door with a thump, and I groan at the name on the screen.

If I don’t answer it, she’ll just keep calling.

“Hello, Mother.” I’m proud of how even my voice is.

“What took you so long to answer? Are you screening my calls again?” The dulcet screech of my mother’s voice has me cringing and pulling the phone from my ear. I drop my keys on a table in the entry and glance longingly at my couch. What I wouldn’t give to kick off my shoes, lay down, and binge-watch shows with hot men who have thick thighs, solve crimes, and communicate through taciturn grunts. Instead, I’m going to have to shower and get all dressed up soon.

“I just walked through the door.”

“That’s no excuse. Do you have the gown I sent over for you?”

I stare up at the crown molding where the walls meet the ten-foot ceilings. The hardwood floors are original and creak with every step. There’s a constant draft from old windows, but I love my apartment because it’s my own space.

The founders parties are tonight and they’re the worst. You’d think a bunch of witches getting together would be fun, but they’re stuffy, snobby events where the founding families try to one-up each other. One year, the Roth family brought in a handful of peacocks, and they kept chasing and attacking guests. Piper still has a scar on her hand where one bit her and she wouldn’t let me heal the injury. My parents had a juggler who would blow fire last year. He wasn’t even a witch, but a human they hired. He burned my mother’s shrubs, and she screamed at him until he cried. That was a fun time.

Every member of the two covens of Mystic Hollows is expected to attend the parties. Meaning there are parties for each of the six original magical families of our town. I don’t want to go to one party on a normal day. Any other time of the year, the Lumen and Tenebris covens stick to their own sides of the city. The Lumen coven is raised with the knowledge that dark magic users are wicked. But not too evil to party with once a year, it seems.

“...better be presentable. If I have to introduce you to anyone tonight, I don’t want to be embarrassed. Try not to speak. And if anyone asks you any house questions for Maiden’s sake, don’t answer.” I let my mother’s lecture flow over me. Every time I speak to her, I’m told to keep my mouth shut, how much of an embarrassment I am to the family, and how I don’t meet anyone’s standards. It’s a speech I’ve heard many times.

“Are you even listening to me?” Another shriek pierces my ear through the phone, and I wince.

“Of course.”

My mother makes a shocked sound, and my stomach plummets. What now?

“How dare they. Unbelievable. Tenebris scum sitting in Lumen territory as if they have the right to be here.” My mother snarls distractedly.

With the way Mystic Hollows is split straight down the Briar Hollows River, there are very clear boundaries. If the covens discover you’ve been in territory where you don’t belong, it’s possible they will punish you. They might drain you of magic or hit you with a fine. It all depends on the mood of the council and how popular you are within the community. If Roman reports me for being on his side of the river, I’m sure my punishment will not be a simple slap on the wrist.

“What are they doing?” I’m slightly relieved her anger isn’t directed at me, but I feel bad for whoever is on the receiving end of my mother's death glare. I might not be able to see her, but I know how she is.

“They’re at the park. Some woman with her kids. She doesn’t belong here.”

How do I even respond to that? Any normal person would tell her she’s overreacting, but I know that won’t go well.

“How do you know she’s Tenebris–”

My mother cuts me off. “Because I know my enemies. The audacity.”

Thank the Maiden she can’t see my eye roll. I’d love to point out my mother's hypocrisy. She’s the one who sent me over into Tenebris territory today for a client. But rules don’t apply to her. “Perhaps she just had an appointment over here.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone. I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Excuse me?” There’s a long pause, and I swallow thickly, pressing my lips together to keep from saying more. “You know, Josephine, I’ve kindly let Penelope shirk her duty andnot participate in the founders parties tonight. But that can be rectified.”

---