Page 4 of Hexes and Exes

I haven’t seen my father since the night of the winter solstice. We didn’t spend a joyful Christmas together, exchanging gifts. There were no happy holiday calls or text messages exchanged. Roman and I have been ignoring our parents for the moment, and they have been content to reciprocate.

Roman mentioned his mom and our dad were looking quite cozy chatting with Anastasia Lexington at the Winter Solstice gathering. She’s the predatory witch who tried to sexually assault my brother and burned my fucking house down. I’m not sure why the hell they would talk to her. Although when I stop to think about it, I’m not all that surprised. They had been pressuring Roman to get married and pop out a kid, and they declared Anastasia the perfect stock.

I’m not sure they’re even aware that Roman’s curse is broken, or that he’s one step closer to marrying to Josephine. They already practically live together. I guess because she’s not from the right side of the tracks, her magic isn’t good enough. Why they have this sudden fixation on him settling is anyone’s guess.

“Are you here to force me into a marriage this time? Give me a lecture on my responsibility to procreate?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Vincent huffs.

I sink into the chair across the desk from my father, stretching my legs in front of me. I cross them at the ankle and steeple my fingers together over my stomach.

“If that’s the case, what are you doing here?” I look around the office as though there might be clues scattered around. My father’s coat hangs on a rack in the corner of the room. The space is dusted and any mess I might have left behind has been picked up by the staff.

“If you’re looking for someone to get married and pass along the Blackthorn name, then Roman’s still your best bet. You might have to resign yourself to having a ‘piece of trash’ as your daughter-in-law.”

My friends and I recently uncovered a dark secret our covens have been keeping for the past several hundred years. In retaliation for being separated from her lover, the Briar Witch cursed the most powerful families in Mystic Hollows. It wasn’t because she was just a bitter woman with a bone to pick. Her coven literally killed him in front of her. That’s when she cursed the firstborns. A bit extreme if you ask me, but seeing the way Roman looks at Josephine, I can’t imagine what he’d do if my father, or anyone else, tried to separate them. Perhaps a new curse for the town to enjoy.

In an interesting twist of fate, Roman and Josephine somehow figured out a way to break their curses. We still don’t fully understand the how, but I know the others feel a glimmer of hope that they can break their curses as well.

Me? I’m a realist. My curse is a darkness slowly invading every corner of my consciousness. It’s like a beast living inside me that feeds off the negative emotions of others. Pulling in their rage, apathy, disgust, and filling me until there is no room for anything good left in me. It’s an infection on my soul and some days I don’t even know who I am anymore. Even now, my father’s irritation and impatience seeps into me, making everything darker, fueling my anger. I know I’ll never get rid of this curse. It’s a burden I will bear until it finally kills me.

My father visibly bristles. “Nothing that can’t be undone.”

The hatred and loathing rolling off my father finds its way to me, sinking into my skin like a toxic chemical infecting the cells of my body. My heart rate slows as my darkness and apathy refine themselves into a fine point. “Death is irrevocable, isn’t it?”

He swallows thickly, his eyes searching my face. Paling, he quickly looks away, then pushes from the desk to stand. “I didn’t come here to discuss nonsensical rumors.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“You were at the coven meeting this weekend. We’re throwing a masquerade ball for Lupercalia.” Vincent paces behind my desk, keeping his distance from me. It would be so easy to use my magic. To whip out a shadow and crush his windpipe. But I tamp down those urges.

“Who is this we?”

“You will be transforming our resort into a fantasy land. The ball will be held here. It’s a great honor for the coven to allow us to throw this party.”

I stare at my father, my jaw ticking. “I’m not a party planner.”

“Which is why I have arranged for help for you. She should be by later today.”

“We’ve got the Winter Carnival coming up. That takes a lot of the resort’s attention.”

I flounder for a reason why I can’t be involved.

“Then cancel it.”

I scowl. The Winter Carnival is a fundraiser for local schools.

“What makes you think I have any interest in doing this? I don’t give a shit about the coven and, honestly, I don’t give a shit about what you want.”

My father stops in front of the desk, some of his bravado returning when he leans forward, resting his hands on the back of the chair. “But you do love your brother, don’t you? You think you know darkness? Things can always get worse. This is still my hotel. You want to leave, be fully alone? Do you think your brother is going to come with you? And as much as you say that you don’t enjoy running this place, you do care for your staff, do you not? I would hate you to force me to have to let everybodygo. To close down the resort. So many people would lose their jobs.” My father tsks mockingly as he shakes his head.

The darkness inside me lashes like a whip, a coil unleashing and threatening to spill into the room. My voice is cold when I speak. “You would really shut down the resort just to hold it over my head. I know you benefit from the profits this place makes.”

“I have money. I don’t need the resort to continue living just as I have been. But what about the sweet little barista? Who makes your coffee every morning. Or the front desk clerk. She just had her baby a few months back, didn’t she? You may be an unfeeling bastard, one whose darkness makes him unlovable, but has your curse taken away all of your humanity already? I thought you were more powerful than that.” A superior smile crawls up my father’s face. Ironic how he’s no longer cursed, but there’s no compassion left in the man.

It’s times like this, I know my curse hasn’t fully infiltrated my soul. If I didn’t care, then I could just tell him to fuck off.

Vincent tips his chin back. “I also think you’re forgetting your covenant with the coven. You are blood bound to honor the will of the council.”

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