Page 8 of Curses and Cauldrons

Squeezing her eyes shut, she throws her quarter into the dark water below. I close my eyes and think about all the things I want in life. To be free of my family’s influence, to find love, to be able to touch someone without pain. And I want to be happy. Is that really so much to ask?

I lift my hand, ready to toss my coin into the water. Roman’s face flashes through my mind once again. The quarter slips through my fingers, clattering against the metal railing, rolling off the side, and falling to the water below.

A ripple of energy that I recognize as magic pulses around us. Goosebumps break out over my already chilled skin, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I don’t even know what I wished for.

5

ROMAN

“Have you seen the Davenport girl? She looks lovely tonight, don't you think?” My mother has me trapped in a corner of the front parlor while she points out every woman she considers of marriageable age.

Diana Blackthorn can trace her family’s magical line back to the original settlers of Mystic Hollows. My father’s family is the same way, which is likely the only reason they married. My mother is a beautiful woman. Her shoulder-length blonde hair is swept up in an elegant twist tonight. Her face is free from any wrinkles, which could be thanks to a magical potion or Botox. It’s hard to say. She’s wearing a glittering gold gown that’s tasteful but obviously expensive.

“She’s eighteen, mother.” I toss back the rest of the whiskey in my glass and search the room for an escape. I’ve been held hostage for the last twenty minutes, and I’m not drunk enough for this.

“She’s legal. And moldable.” My mother always sucks in her cheeks. It gives her a pout and makes her cheekbones morepronounced. Does she think it looks natural and no one notices what she’s doing?

I can’t contain the sound of disgust. I catch the eye of a waiter across the room and hold up my empty glass with a sigh. His nod has me hoping I’ll have another drink in hand before my mother can make any more repulsive comments.

The Blackthorn’s founders party is my third stop of the night. My friends and I flipped a coin to determine the party order. This is the last of the Tenebris coven parties before we cross the river and head toward the Lumen parties. I’ve obediently offered up a drop of blood at each location before escaping as quickly as possible.

On the other side of the room, I spot my brother Bram and my two best friends, Ambrose and Odie. They’re all laughing at me. Ambrose has an easy athleticism that doubles as a lazy grace. His golden hair and skin and boy-next-door charm are a deception that lulls people into thinking he’s not dangerous. Odie is as much a tomboy as she is an elegant woman. Her platinum blonde hair and lack of voice lead some people to think she’s a brainless doll. It’s always amusing to watch her destroy them with a single look.

Angling my body so my mother doesn’t see, I sign, “Help me” at the group of assholes. A smile lifts the corner of Odie’s mouth, and one evil eyebrow cocks up as she shakes her head.

“Are you using those silly hand signals? Stop being impolite,” my mother snaps. I guess I didn’t hide that very well.

“They aren’t silly hand signals. It’s sign language. Which is an actual language.” The waiter drifts by with my drink and I snatch it off his tray and down half of it in one gulp.

Odie’s family curse hit her young. Typically, our curses don’t kick in until we’re sixteen, but she hasn’t spoken since she was six years old. When Bram, Ambrose, and I first met her, we communicated like a lot of kids. We ran around and played; weasked a lot of questions that she could answer with a nod or a shake of her head. As we got older, we learned sign language. My horrible mother called it a waste of time. The miserable cow wonders why she’s so unhappy.

“Well, I’m sure one of these young girls will be more impressed that you speak Italian and Spanish.”

“I took two years of Spanish in high school, and the only Italian words I know are food related.” God, this is exhausting. The entire scene. Everyone here is wearing their most expensive gowns and suits. My mother hired stilt walkers dressed in carnival theme costumes to walk around the exterior of the house. Which is a complete waste because it’s fucking cold out and no one but the poor performers are outside.

The sound of fake laughter permeates the air. I can physically feel the ass-kissing happening around me. The atmosphere is reminiscent of a corporate holiday party that employees are forced to attend.

Just like all Blackthorn parties, this one is being held at my parents’ home, or rather the Blackthorn Manor, as it’s called. The estate is on the edge of town where the houses get larger the farther away from downtown you get. My mother claims that she loves to entertain, but Giana, their housekeeper, does all the planning, cooking, and cleaning. There’s not much for my mother to do except dress up and pose next to my father.

Speaking of…I see him chatting with one of the eighteen-year-olds my mother pointed out earlier.

I polish off the rest of my drink in one more swallow.

“No one needs to know you’re not fluent in multiple languages until after you're married.”

“Yes, because a relationship founded on lies is the perfect way to start a marriage.”

My mother turns toward me, giving her back to the room. “Now that you’ve brought it up, I think it’s time for you to seriously consider settling down.”

I do a terrible job of keeping the disdain off my face. “I didn’t bring it up, but just who am I settling down with?”

My mother has been after me to get married for years. It’s my responsibility to carry on the Blackthorn line: magical duty and all that. Crone, save me, I’m only thirty-two.

She waves her hand through the air. “Take your pick. You are from one of the most powerful magical families in Mystic Hollows. Women would line up to be with you. And you know,” she pauses conspiratorially, “it’s really time you start thinking about having children.” Her nostrils flare, and the corner of her eye twitches like it does whenever she’s hiding something or lying. What the hell is she lying about? “Besides, it’s not like a fated bond is magically going to appear. You may as well wait for a unicorn to fly down from the sky.”

“I don’t think unicorns fly.” I sigh and my mother rolls her eyes.

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