Page 32 of Hexes and Exes

“A fated bond is someone who is perfectly aligned with you. You don’t complete each other like a fucking movie script might say, but you balance each other. When one is too dark, the other brings light. When one is trapped by their own thoughts, the other will pull them free. Their magic sings together because it was always meant to be woven. That’s why it’s stronger than a curse.”

“But why are Josephine and Roman the first fated bonds we’ve ever known? It sounds like this is what we’re meant to find.” A blush creeps up my cheeks, but I refuse to look at Bram. He’s staring at me, and I don’t want him to laugh at my words.

“Because this town is rotten. Generation after generation sold off their children to marriages meant to boost magical family lines. Where there is no love, the magic will falter and die. Maybe not in our lifetime, but eventually.”

Fitz ties up her little bags and tosses them into a bucket. Her mouth tips with a sly grin as she pulls a fresh set of photographs out of her pocket, produces more bags from under her chair, and starts the process all over again.

Bram’s nod toward the exit is so minimal, I barely catch it. I give a little shake of my head. I’m not leaving until Fitz says we can go. Bram raises his eyebrows, his mouth pursed tight. I use my eyes to point at Fitz and Bram makes a frustrated sound.

“Oh, go away. The two of you are worse than these arseholes.” She slaps the stack of photos against the table.

“Okay. Sure. Thanks for the information,” I blurt out, and Bram pulls my chair out, nearly dumping me on the ground. He offers a rushed thanks, and we slink out of Fitz garden like two children.

Bram sighs loudly in relief, but then groans when he remembers he has to squish back into my car.

16

AVA

My brother and I sit in his car outside our parents’ house.

“You ready for this?” he asks with dread. We both frown as we stare at the place we grew up.

It’s an ugly house, built in the early nineties. My parents have added on several times, leaving it with mismatched roof lines and odd corners. The tan brick outside is like every mediocre decision my father has ever made. He believes his taste is impeccable. The rest of us are aware that it’s not. My mother decorates each new space to his specifics as they’re added on. That includes lots of floral valances and dark burgundy leather furniture.

I guess it’s fitting for my parents' relationship. Fitz said fated bonds are so rare because we’ve taken to marrying for power over love. My parents, this house, are a perfect example of the reality of that choice. A facade of elegance that is, in actuality, ugly as hell.

“Tell me again why we have to be here?” I whine and flip down the visor to check my make-up. It’s subtly applied so that it appears I’m not wearing any at all. If I have on bright lipstick,or too much eye shadow, my dad will point out that I look like a whore. If I don’t wear any make-up, he’ll comment on my sickly appearance. Normally, I wouldn’t attend a function at my parents’ house at all, but this is coven business.

All the founding families have been summoned to a gathering which is being hosted by my parents. Sometimes I wonder why I’m a member of our coven at all. Actually, I know why. It’s because we’re tied to our coven from an early age through blood. I only vaguely remember pledging my allegiance to my coven as a child. To leave your coven would be extremely painful and harmful for your magic. The coven can also choose to bind your magic. I’ve heard rumors of it happening over the years and I don’t want to find out if it’s true.

I’m not sure how Fitz and Morty have stayed out of the Mystic Hollows covens for all these years. It’s honestly impressive on multiple levels.

In theory, the idea of the coven is critical for witches. It’s supposed to center your magic, to bind you to the community. When one suffers, we all suffer. That’s how it should be, but I wouldn’t say that’s a great description of the old Lumen coven. So far, I’m not overly impressed with the Luminara coven either. We’re just repeating the same old shit and expecting different outcomes.

I received a directive from my father earlier today. The note required my attendance for dinner at his house this evening. A quick phone tree was initiated, and I found out that all of my friends had been summoned.

I follow Stellan inside the house with slow steps. My father is standing inside the foyer waiting for us. He’s wearing a suit and tie that’s too tight around his neck. “About time. You’re the last one here.” He directs the words at me, as if Stellan isn’t the one who drove our asses over here after dragging his feet leaving the apartment.

Our father spins on his heel and stalks off toward the formal dining room. I sigh as I follow him, and Stellan pats my shoulder. “Hang in there tonight.”

The wallpaper in the formal dining room is overly busy and the chandeliers that hang over the table are fussy. But that’s what my father likes. I have no idea what my mother’s taste is.

The room is full of the founding families. Almost all of them. I’m surprised to see Josephine's mother, father, and sister Camille here. The three of them stand a good distance from each other and shy away anytime someone comes near. They tried to force Josephine to do a ritual that would pass along her curse. It backfired and left the three of them reaping the fruits of their evil labor. They’re all now cursed to feel pain when touched. Sometimes karma works the way it should.

Josephine is at the opposite end of the room with her youngest sister Penelope and Roman, who’s glaring at anyone who even looks in their direction.

“Oh, this is going to be a pleasant evening,” Stellan murmurs beside me.

Bram, Ambrose, and Odie stand near Josephine, none of them looking happy. I don’t see Ambrose’s parents anywhere, which isn’t surprising. According to him, they’re very rarely in town. I doubt they would have flown in from whatever overseas destination they’re currently vacationing in to come to a dinner party at my parents’ house.

Vincent and Diana Blackthorn are speaking with Selene, tight expressions on their faces. Then there’s Piper. My heart breaks for her. She looks like a wilted flower standing next to her uncle Tucker Beaumont. Tucker is both a lazy asshole and controlling at the same time. He lives off the family fortune without lifting a finger to do a damn thing for anyone besides himself.

Piper is the Beaumont family heir, inherited after her father died when she was sixteen. Tucker took her in and became her legal guardian. I’ve always wondered how Piper hasn’t sneaked into his room and stabbed him in the middle of the night. He’s horrible. And a member of the coven council. Yay.

Tucker’s hair is buzzed short to hide his receding hairline. It’s a much lighter shade of red than Piper’s, and combined with his pale skin, he looks like a fucking serial killer. He’s a big man, but it’s mostly soft. That doesn’t mean he isn’t strong. Piper has had many bruises over the years that she’s tried to explain away with sad excuses, but we all know the real cause. Getting her out of his house was a day I will celebrate for years to come. That doesn’t mean she’s completely free of the asshole’s control.

Tucker has his hand on Piper’s elbow, holding her to his side as he talks to my mother. Piper’s way too practiced at hiding her feelings, but I can tell by the way his fingers are digging in that it has to hurt.

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