Page 21 of Curses and Cauldrons

“I hooked up with Roman Blackthorn Saturday night.” I expel the words in a rush of air.

“What?” Ava screeches, and a pillow hits my face in the next second. “You kept that from me for a solid week? How? When? Where?” She wiggles her fingers in the air. “Just lay out all the important details, especially the one that explains how the hell you were able to touch him.” Ava’s up on her knees. Her eyes are lit with an excitement I haven’t seen since before Jamie the fuck face cheated on her.

“Ah…I’m not going to answer the how part, but, um…my parents’ house. The night of the founders parties. I don’t know why, but I can touch him without pain.” My voice dwindles down to a whisper.

“Jojo,” Ava says softly, and I tear up.

“I know.” I swallow thickly and look at the TV for a distraction. Wow, that man’s thighs are thick.

“How is that possible? Is your curse broken?”

After a week of my mother inflicting her painful touch at every opportunity, I can confidently confirm that my curse is as present as ever. I shake my head.

“Still, this is incredible. We need to figure out why?” Ava’s hands are clutched to her chest.

“Why?” I frown. Like, why would Roman hook up with me? Or…

“Yes. Are the curses failing? I mean, I’m pretty sure mine is just as strong as ever, but maybe yours is going away.”

I give her a sad smile. As much as I wish that were the case, I don’t think it’s what’s happening. I’ve been thinking about it all week, desperate to find some answers. “What do you know about our curses?”

“Like, our specific family curses?” Ava settles back into the couch, propping her bare feet on the coffee table. I don’t know how she’s not freezing. It’s nearly Thanksgiving and there’s been a cold snap with temps close to zero for the last few days. My apartment is drafty and poorly insulated.

“No. I mean, the curses in general. Why do we have them in the first place?” My question is directed at myself as much as Ava.

“We all know the story of the Briar Witch.”

“Do we, though?” I sit up, an itch to find out more, making me antsy.

“What are you thinking?” Ava watches me as I push off the couch.

“How do you feel about stopping by Fitz’s house?”

“This is a bad idea.We should have baked something, or brought her chocolate, or a plant. Old people like that ribbon candy that clumps together into one giant lump. We should have brought that.” Ava fidgets next to me as I lift the knocker on Agatha Fitzsimons’ front door. She lives in a home just outside of the city limits. Her house is outside any land claimed by one of the two covens. It’s a sweet French rustic style house with a natural stone exterior, an arched doorway, and sloped roofs. Despite the fact that it’s November, overflowing flower boxes adorn the windows of the picturesque cottage. Fitz has an affinity for the elements and there’s no question these plants are magically boosted.

“How am I the calm one in this situation?” I ask, then slam the knocker three times. I’m not really all that serene inside, but I’m definitely in better shape than Ava.

“She scares me,” Ava whispers just as the door opens.

“You’re smart to be scared, girl.” Fitz cackles at the look on Ava’s face. “Best get inside before someone sees you hovering on my doorstep. You never know what kind of trouble you’ll be inviting if you’re seen with the likes of me.” With that, she turns away from us, leaving me and Ava to step inside her house. I can’t help but look around, wondering if someone really is watching us. Amazing how a suggestion can plant a fear like that in your head when it didn’t exist before.

Fitz is wearing a matching velour jogging suit and her feet are covered by a pair of Spiderman slippers. Her long white hair is tied back in a thick braid. Fitz’s house is everything I imagine a witch’s house to be. It’s crammed with books. Shelves are lined with bottles of dried herbs, and bundles of flowers and bones tied together with red string. There are candles on every surface, and that’s just what we can see in the living room. The couch is good quality, but it’s definitely older than me. There’s a rocking chair facing a wood-burning stove, but Fitz walks us past all of that. We follow her through the house to the back door and outside.

The garden is breathtaking. It’s not huge, but large evergreens form a perimeter around the yard, creating a natural privacy fence. There’s a small patio with a table and chairs. Stone pathways shoot off the patio and meander through the flowers. Like the front of the house, everything back here is fully in bloom. A spectacular array of colors that are both chaotic yet soothing.

“What do I owe the honor of a visit from houses Delvaux and Vandenberg?” Fitz asks as she takes one of the seats around the wrought-iron table.

Ava and I look at each other. Her eyes widen at me, as if to say,this was your idea, you talk. Except now I’m wondering if this was a mistake.

“Don’t get shy now. You already did the hard part and knocked on the door. Ask your questions.” Fitz kicks off the ground with the toe of one slippered foot, causing her chair to glide back and forth slowly.

“We wanted to learn more about the curses, Miss Fitzsimons.” I’m proud that my voice doesn’t waiver at all.

For a second it looks like Fitz is ecstatic, but as soon as I blink her face is back to its usual bored mask. She hums and picks up a bundle of twigs from the table. Her fingers mess with the sticks, rearranging and organizing them. I don’t know how she’s not frozen. I’m bundled up in a coat, scarf, mittens, and I’m still chilled. She must have a spell that allows her to sit out in the cold without feeling it.

“Call me Fitz. I only make people I hate call me Miss Fitzsimons. And my accountant. He’s an asshole and could use a good humbling. And sit down. I don’t need you staring down at me like a pair of dense birds. Don’t those good-for-nothing covens teach you children basic manners anymore? I know your daft parents certainly don’t.”

Ava and I sit down, and she gives me an accusing stare before exaggeratedly turning to look at Fitz’s hands working the bundle of sticks. One of the nearby flowers snaps at Ava’s fingers and she yelps before sitting up straighter. Fitz chuckles under her breath.

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