Page 14 of Magic and Matrimony

This is where I’m really hoping my sense of judgment is going to pay off. Because if Ambrose isn’t the person I think he is, I’ve just royally screwed myself.

“I’m going to give you some backstory, so bear with me.”

Ambrose swipes a fry through ketchup and eats it as he nods at me to go ahead.

I fold my napkin into smaller and smaller triangles, pressing the fabric until it’s smooth. “My mom died in childbirth. My dad raised me until I was sixteen. He had a rough time being a parent. I think some people just aren’t cut out for it.” That’s an understatement, but I don’t want to go into the depths of how horrible of a parent my dad was.

Ambrose makes a humming sound as though he understands completely.

“When I was young, really young, my father put a hex on me.”

Ambrose sets the sandwich down and leans back in his chair. His face is more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “Different from your family curse?”

As a firstborn of one of the founding families of Mystic Hollows, I’m a victim of a curse that has been passed down from one generation to the next. We only recently learned that the curse could have ended with the first generation, but the assholes figured out a way to cure themselves by passing it along to their firstborn child. They freed themselves by saddling a child with their curse.

I take a sip of juice that’s on the table. I don’t know if Ambrose brought it over for himself, but he hasn’t touched it.

“A different one.” I set the glass down and fiddle with my napkin. “I had to obey any order my father gave me.” I clear my throat, then spit out the rest in a rush of words. “If I didn’t, I’d feel extreme pain to the point where I could eventually die. He also put a geas on me, so that I could never tell anyone what he’d done and made it so I wasn’t allowed to search for a way to break the hex.” Sometimes, I wonder if the geas was worse than the curse itself. I know there have been times when my friends have wondered why I did something, but I could never tell them. I could never ask for help. I’ve been searching for a way around the geas for years. This marriage to Ambrose is the first time I found a real solution.

Anger flares in Ambrose’s eyes before he schools his features. “Your dad’s dead, though, right?”

“He died when I was sixteen and I became the ward of my Uncle Tucker.” For a brief moment, I’d known peace. That reprieve might have made what came next even worse. “It turns out that the hex my father created wasn’t just for him. It was crafted so that my guardian could control me. So when Tucker became responsible for me, he also had the ability to use my hex to do anything he asked. The geas to keep everything a secret died with my dad, but Tucker made sure he put his own on me. He couldn't allow me to tell someone what my father and then he had done. He couldn’t risk me asking for help to break the hex.”

Ambrose leans back in his chair. Every muscle in his body clenched. “But you’re talking to me about it.”

I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “That’s because you’re now in control of my hex. The geas is likely still in place because Tucker’s still alive. But because you control the hex, I can speak to you about it.”

Ambrose stares at me as my words sink in. He pushes back from the table, his chair rolling away and thunking against the wall. “Are you telling me, I have control over you like some sort of puppet master?”

“It’s only if you give me a direct order. I can’t refuse. And if I do–”

“It’ll cause you pain.” Ambrose finishes my sentence, his eyes darting around the room, as though he’s remembering scenarios in the past when I’ve been in pain for seemingly no reason. He kicks at a pillow that fell off the bed, and it flops over pathetically.

“Why would you give me this sort of authority over you, Piper?”

My chin trembles and my eyes water. I sniff, trying to hold back my emotions. “Because I didn’t know who else to ask. I know this is a horrible situation I’ve placed you in, and I’m sorry. But with Tucker's circumstances, he’s going to use this against me. He’s already tried.” I could have asked Stellan. I know he’d do anything for me, but the thought of having sex with my friend is…revolting. I don’t care if he’s handsome. He’s like a brother. I shudder just thinking about it.

Ambrose paces the large bedroom, the lights of Vegas glowing outside the window despite it still being daytime. “This isn’t something you should be apologizing to me for.” He drags a hand down his face, looking tired for the first time…in perhaps ever. “What do you mean about Tucker? What has he tried?”

“He…” I don’t want to tell him all the times Tucker commanded me to do something against my will. Whether it was a simple order to shut my mouth, or bring him dinner, or a complex command to betray my friends and let him cut me with a knife. It doesn’t matter. I’ve had to obey him every time. “He can ask anything of me, Ambrose. And he’s stuck in his house. He’s growing desperate.”

Less than a year ago, Mystic Hollows had two covens that joined together to form the Luminara coven. Both covens were governed by a council that made decisions about how the coven was run, and essentially how the witches in our town were treated. Both councils were corrupt, and when they combined to become one body, the corruption simply doubled.

Their plots finally did them in at the masquerade ball our friends Ava and Bram planned, and their house of cards came crumbling down. It ended up with the council in shambles and the majority of them being placed under magical house arrest. Including my uncle. I’ve been so careful to avoid him for over a month, but he’s commanded me to answer my phone whenever I see it’s him. I did so well until the night of the new moon. I was sloppy. He called, and I had to answer.

“Tucker is trying to figure out a way to get around the housebound spell. He wanted me to threaten Lucida.” Lucida is the head of the Luminara coven. She’s trying to clean house and build a better community for the witches of Mystic Hollows.

Technically, Tucker wanted me to poison Lucida, but he hadn’t gotten that far. He merely requested I brew the potion at this point and I had to do it. It’s currently sitting on my kitchen counter. His mistake was that he didn’t tell me to bring it to him. He told me I couldn’t drive anywhere but straight back to him until I had the potion brewed. So I ran. All the way to Ambrose’s house in the pouring rain.

“I’ll kill him.”

I cock my head. Ambrose isn’t a fighter, he’s a lover. I can’t imagine him killing anyone. “No, you won’t. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m free of him.” At least, I hope I am. It doesn’t seem real.

“And now bound to me. Isn’t that just as bad?” Ambrose drags a hand through his hair, sending the blond locks into disarray that looks purposefully messy.

“No,” I snap. Not even a little.

“Fine, not as bad because I’m not a piece of shit like Tucker, but it’s not much better. You shouldn’t be at anyone’s mercy, Piper.”

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