My shadows feed, like magical vampires. I can siphon the magic out of another witch with a flick of my finger. My father throws out his hands, his shadows following their path until they wrap around my arms, twining like dark vines. They burn as they sink into my skin, and I lose control of my limbs. I throw my head back, struggling so hard against his magic that my body vibrates with anger.
My curse is a searing flame through my veins, feeding on the hate from my father, drowning my humanity in a flood of disgust.
“You think you’re better than me, boy? Stronger? I am the head of this house. I am a Blackthorn. My family has been a major player in Mystic Hollows since the inception of this town. You were one jerk off away from never existing.” His magic burns as he commands me to head toward the door. “That’s right. Do as you’re told.”
I strain against the actions, my steps slow and sluggish. With each moment that passes, his hold diminishes, because myshadows feed on his magic. Slowly sucking away his power. He’s a frog in a pot that doesn’t know he’s being boiled.
A bitter laugh bubbles up as I shake my arms out and stop moving. The smug smile drops from my father’s face. I snap out my hand, wrapping it around his neck and slamming him into the wall. His toes just barely touch the ground. I lean in until we’re nose to nose. His breath tastes like the cigarettes he claims he doesn’t smoke, and liquor.
“Whatever the fuck you’re doing with Anastasia and Roman, it ends now.”
“It’s already ended,” my father chokes out, his face turning maroon.
“You’ve already fucked up our lives enough. I’ll let you stay in this town for now. Play your golf, jerk off with your little council friends, but stay the fuck away from me and Roman.” I can’t really kick my father out of town. Technically, the resort is in the family name. He can’t fire me and Roman, but he can do damage. His threats to our staff are how I got into this masquerade planning mess in the first place. Magically, I might be more powerful, but he does have the council on his side. He’s not thinking clearly enough to realize that right now, though.
“Fine. Fucking fine.” Spittle dots Vincent’s lips and when I let go he slumps over, gasping and choking. Diana picks that moment to come running down the hall.
“What’s the meaning of this? How dare you come in here and threaten your father.” My stepmother stands over her husband, not helping or touching him. Her words are superficial, if anything.
“I was just leaving.” Without another word, I spin on my heel and leave Blackthorn Manor.
I don’t even remember the run home. No, not home. Roman’s house. My place was burned to the ground by some sickfuck working with my parents. For what? To keep a curse from rebounding? And tomorrow it will be gone forever.
I slam the door, wanting to destroy something. Someone. I rip off my sweatshirt and throw it on the ground as I kick off my shoes. It’s dark inside and so fucking quiet. There’s no one here. I’m alone, just like I deserve. I tug my shirt over my head as I walk into the spare bedroom, only to stop short when I turn on the light. Tucked under the covers of my bed, holding a bottle of whiskey with a note that says “have a drink” is the fucking doll.
Swiping it off the bed, I glare down at the wide-eyed toy. Fucking hell. I turn, ready to throw the reminder of everything I can’t have at the wall…and find Ava sitting on the chair in the corner.
33
AVA
“What are you doing here?” Bram lowers the doll, his eyes widening with surprise.
I wait, my heart in my throat. It’s been over a week. Does he still remember me?
“Ava.” He sounds distressed, but it’s the fact that he recognizes me that has relief sweeping over my body.
I raise a brow at the limp doll in his hand. What am I doing here? That is an excellent question. After my afternoon of running into my dad and Jamie having a cozy chat, digging through crispy house parts, and feeling wrecked by everything that’s happened to me and Bram, I drove all the way back to my apartment. I sat in my car warring with myself. Part of me wanted to crawl under my covers and another part of me wanted to go out into the woods and scream at the sky. I didn’t do either one, but drove around listening to the same song on repeat forty times.
Somehow, I ended up at Bram’s house. He seems surprised to see me here. My car is literally parked in his driveway, so I don’t know how he missed it. I guess he’s distracted.
“I wanted to talk.”
Bram’s aura isn’t just swirling with shadows but is almost completely black. The dark energy pours off him and nearly chokes me with anger and bitterness. “What happened?”
His shirt is half off. His cheeks are red, but he’s sweaty. He must have just come in from a run. I don’t know what possessed me to come here. I should have kept my pride tucked away and left him alone. There are plenty of shows to watch on Netflix, more than enough bottles of wine to drink. I could have drowned my sorrows alone.
Fine, my brother would have been there to annoy me, but same difference.
Yet, after I put on the dress earlier, all I could think about was being in Bram’s arms as we slowly moved our bodies together on the dance floor. That image has been replaying through my mind ever since. After going to his burned-down house, all I want is to talk, to clear the air, maybe have hot make-up sex.
That’s a terrible idea.
I didn’t expect Bram to be so angry. He still has the stupid doll that’s been making the rounds between my place and his in his hand. His fingers are wrapped so tightly around its neck I wonder if the head is about to pop off.
Bram shoves the doll at me. “Take it and leave. I don’t want to play any more childish games. I don’t want to see you.” His words sting, even though he’s said as much before. I thought he would have calmed down by now. Or maybe I knew he’d be like this and I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Did something happen?” I’m tucked into a chair in the corner and Bram is standing in the middle of the room, but there might as well be an entire ocean between us.