Page 42 of Curses and Cauldrons

Josephine hasn’t left my thoughts in two days.

“Are you going to say anything? We’ve already run three miles, and you’ve barely muttered two words.” Bram startles me out of my thoughts.

The two of us run together at least twice a week. Sometimes more if he’s feeling the darkness creeping in. He says the physical activity and pushing his body helps keep the anger at bay.

I’m not fit company today, though. I’ve been replaying every encounter I’ve had with Josephine in my head on a loop. Dissecting why she’s different. Trying to figure out what it means that I can touch her. Wondering about how her family is using their magic, which should be none of my business. Yet, I can’t stop thinking there’s something very wrong going on.

Of course, there is. We’re all cursed. And we simply accept that this is normal.

“How did we end up like this?” I’m sure that’s not the answer Bram’s expecting, but it’s a thought I can’t shake.

The rhythmic beat of our footfalls on the path through the woods is a comforting sound. Usually. Today my mind is swimming with too many questions, and it reminds me of a ticking clock. I wish I knew what it was counting down to.

“Well, for some of us, it’s genetics, but I won’t say that I don’t work hard for this.” Bram gestures toward his body, and I roll my eyes. It’s early morning, and the sun is just starting to filter through the bare branches of the trees. We’re running along the lake that’s part of the resort.

“Have you heard of magic sharing between family members?” I don’t bother acknowledging his ridiculous remark.

“What, like group spellwork?” Bram hops over a fallen log without missing a beat.

I slow to a walk, wiping my forehead with the hem of my shirt. At this rate, I’m going to trip over my own feet. That’s how distracted I am.

“Josephine mentioned that her family performs the new moon ceremony together. I’ve never heard of that before.”

“To be totally honest, we really don’t know what their coven does. For all we know, renewing their power as a family could be standard.” Bram jogs in place, like he’s not quite ready to walk.

“Maybe.” I hedge, not really believing that. We grew up hearing about the sanctimonious, puritanical Lumen coven. The judgmental bastards who look down their noses at us because our magic is different from theirs. Except that’s not been my experience with Josephine. Is she really an anomaly in her coven? Her friends were worried about her the other night. They cared enough to call me without hesitation. It spoke of an open-mindedness that I’ve always been told the Lumen coven doesn’t possess.

Then again, these pronouncements came from my coven, which is riddled with its own set of problems. It’s almost as ifhumanity can be full of shitty people, regardless of what side of the river they grow up on. Surprise.

“Did you ever ask your mom about your curse?” Talking about Bram’s mom is a sensitive affair, but I can’t ask my parents. They won’t tell me anything useful.

Bram stops in place, his hands braced on his waist. “Why are you asking?”

A flicker of dark shadows snakes across Bram’s eyes. It’s already cold enough out to see our breath, but the temperature drops another ten degrees.

I drag my hands through my hair, leaving them on the back of my head, and tipping it back to stare up at the lightening sky. “I feel like we’re missing something. With our curses. Why have we never tried to break them? I can’t believe that in hundreds of years, no one has tried to figure out how to break their curse.” As it is now, curses pass along to the next generation when the first child is born. It’s a shit deal, but people still need to procreate unless they want all the witching lines to disappear. Maybe they should.

“I’m sure someone has. That doesn’t mean they were successful,” Bram says. He hasn’t answered my question about his mom, and it’s clear he isn’t going to.

“You could always have a kid,” Bram tosses out as if it’s no big deal. Knowing any child of mine will be born with a curse is an ethical dilemma I’m not ready to have. When I don’t respond, Bram goes on. “This is about Josephine?”

I drop my hands and lower my gaze to look at my brother. In the last few years, we’ve started to grow apart. It doesn’t matter that we run together or that our offices are mere feet from each other. It’s been a challenge to keep the bitterness from growing, and I haven’t been entirely successful. To lose the ability to feel a soft touch, a comforting hand, or a lover’s kiss has turned me into an angry person. I know Bram’s curse affects him indifferent ways that are no less damaging. We should have been leaning on each other, but we rarely talk about our curses. That makes the reality of our situations too real.

But now there’s hope. The most dangerous emotion of them all. Besides, if I can so suddenly feel Josephine’s touch, couldn’t I lose it just as quickly?

“Why is it different with her?” The question is more for me than Bram.

“Why does it matter? Can’t you just enjoy the fact that you figured out a way to work around your curses? To know that there’s someone out there that can keep the twisted magic at bay.” It sounds like Bram is talking about my situation, but I know he’s thinking about his own worsening curse.

“I’m not trying to shit on a gift that’s fallen in my lap,” I snap and scrub my hand over my face and try to calm down. “It just strikes me as odd that we’ve never stopped to question our curses. The coven told us this is the way things are, and we’ve gone along with it all these years. We’re not mindless sheep, Bram. I think it’s time we start digging for better answers than the ones we’ve been getting.”

Bram stares at me for a long moment. A flicker of interest sparks in his eyes, but that darkness that lives inside him takes over when he blinks.

“We should get going.” He takes off before I can respond.

The run back is just as quiet as the way out.

The lobbyof the Grand Mystic Resort is quiet—not surprising for a Tuesday morning. There are a few people checking out and a handful of others coming into the spa or to grab a coffee at thecafe. I’m still tangled in my thoughts when a cane slashes out and knocks against my shins. The sound is obscenely loud.

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