Page 11 of Cursed Love
Flipping through the book, she found a variety of handwriting on the pages. It seemed to change after the first thirty pages, then become less frequent. If she had to guess, she would say that as time went by, less was added to the book.
She flipped to one page and stared.
Family magick, a guide to your power(s.) Our family has been blessed with elemental magick and telekinesis. Only high priestesses of our covens have mastered two elemental powers at once, and those who have tried—all five elements—have not lived to tell.
Your powers are a blessing; do not misuse them. Each person has a trigger, which controls their powers. You must learn yours. A witch who cannot control her powers is not only useless but a danger to those she loves.
“That’s it?” Brandy asked, noting no other information on how to use her power. “Thanks a lot. That wasn’t helpful at all.”
Her hands hummed as frustration built within her. When the cabinets in her kitchen began to shake, Brandy jumped to her feet, and the grimoire slipped off her lap. Doors in her apartment opened and closed, becoming louder each passing second.
“Oh, God! How do I make it stop?” she asked when no one appeared or crashed through her door. “Can people just appear? Damn it!” she yelled and ran a hand through her hair. Her apartment was alive, but she did not know how to make it stop.
Brandy thought of the handsome stranger, and she wished she knew how to contact him. He was the only living person she could talk to who wouldn’t think she belonged in a mental ward. She grabbed the grimoire, put it on the table, and read over the page once more. When she didn’t find anything new, she focused on the words:each person has a trigger.
“What the hell is my trigger?”
Brandy found it difficult to think with all the noise and cupped her hands over her ears. She thought over the last few minutes, before all the crazy shakes and bumps. Touching the grimoire had calmed her earlier, and nothing had been going on. It wasn’t until the stupid page left out the directions to using her power did she—
“Ah-ha!” she said with excitement. “Geez, I really need to quit talking to myself.”
Brandy closed the book and placed her hand against the leather. Breathing slowly, she focused on lowering her heart rate. The doors quit moving on their own, but the cabinets picked up their pace.
“Shit! Think about something else!” Her mind flitted back to the stranger and the calm after the turbulent events. One by one, the cabinets closed. When the quiet in the room became constant, she opened her eyes and looked around. Everything was as it should be.
She grabbed the book and sat. For a while, she could only stare at the brown leather. So much had changed since her birthday. Hell, in the last twenty-four hours, she’d learned more about her family than in her twenty-one years.
It seemed not even her brothers were aware of their family history, and if they did know, they hid it very well. She needed to keep them safe, per her mother’s instructions. Safe from tubars and what else? The problem was she didn’t even know how to keep herself safe.
She opened the book again and flipped through the pages. There was so much she needed to learn. Anxiety filled her as she skimmed one page talking about different types of demons. Tubars would be the least of her worries, as she found a variety of other kinds listed in the book.
In a matter of days, everything she’d known about herself and her family seemed like a lie. There were so many holes within the fabric of her history. Why hadn’t her dad mentioned anything? A hint that life at twenty-one would be a fight to stay alive would have been great.
The couch vibrated under her, and the curtains opened and closed. It seemed the key to staying safe was controlling her powers.
Fear, excitement, anger, and now anxiety… all the emotions she experienced prior to things getting crazy. Brandy took a deep breath. The curtains stopped in the middle of her window, and the couch quit moving.
“Great. Whoever thought to give powers attached to emotions on an overly emotional person needs to be beat.” She leaned against the couch cushion and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t quite sure how her life had turned into this.
She needed to control her emotions and powers and keep her brothers safe. There was no way she could do the last without the first. She wished she could call the mysterious stranger who had saved her, except she didn’t know who he was or where to find him.
“Screw it, I can do this all on my own.”
Looking around the room, she searched for something light and unbreakable. She pushed herself to her feet, grabbed the last stress ball Greg had brought home from his human resources training, and set it on the coffee table.
Control.
She waved her hand over the ball and sighed when it didn’t even shake. Closing her eyes, she took a breath and leaned her elbows on her knees. She focused on the ball, the skin between her eyes wrinkling as she concentrated.
Nothing.
“How the hell do I turn this shit on!” she snapped and watched the ball fly off the table.
Frustration.
There it was again, movement when she was anything but calm. She picked up the ball and set it on the middle of the table. Her fingers sifted through her hair and locked behind her neck. “Okay… emotions… control…” she whispered.
Sucking in another breath, she gave herself permission to be upset at the situation. She envisioned her emotions seeping in through a valve at the same time she willed the ball to move.
