Chapter 53
Deejay
I put my phone on the counter, staring down at the notepad I spent time scribbling in. “Fraser, I’m going to the stream,”
I warn him, looking over to where he’s working on his computer at the breakfast nook.
Fraser frowns at me, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Be careful how you word it, Deejay.”
“I know.”
I rip the page out of the notebook and shove it into my pocket. In the mudroom, I shove my feet into my walking boots, then march outside. I cross the yard to the walking trail, and then break into a fast jog. I don’t need water to curse anyone but being near a natural source helps focus my power so that I don’t make any mistakes in my cursing. This one has to be perfect. I can’t afford any mistakes or to break the contract between us and the Obsidite Elder Council.
When they agreed to help us, they required the curse and they required us to agree to not kill the man if we found him. They didn’t ask for anything else, just a curse to make sure his schemes fail, and that non-human justice would happen at the Hub. We didn’t make a magical contract, but if I can’t keep my word without magic, then I am as useless as I am untrustworthy; magical contracts are for people who don’t trust each other, and business deals.
When I get to the creek, I strip down to my skin and wade in, letting the element of the Naiads flow around me, grounding me in its ever-changing nature. I touch the ball of power within me, feeding it the energy the stream gives me. I let it grow and form my intention around it, molding it to my will. I let the words on the page in my hand coalesce around my intention and will without speaking them. Using the power to infuse each word with the curse before I utter it. When each word is dripping with the tar of my curse, I speak them into the air, into the water, into the earth, into existence.
“Prince Erroll of the Royal House of Morgaine, all of your schemes will fail. Your planning, preparation, and execution will bear only the fruit of your failure. Your fate is to be in the Cage with the Headsman. The injustices you have caused, ordered, or performed yourself will come into public knowledge. You will be reviled by your own people and by all non-humans. So it will be until your death.”
I see the curse coalesce in the air on the breath that carries the words. Tarred and black, it wobbles in the air for a moment, tethered to my power. I examine it for perfection before cutting the tether, satisfied that it will bring Erroll to his end. It hangs in the air trembling for long enough I start doubting whether it will go find its target, then suddenly, it yanks the tether I cut back to it. It expands as it takes nearly all the reserves within me and then a tear in time and space opens in front of me.
I see myself in the nursery through the rip. I see the person who choked me with the bolas throw them, then the curse darts through the rip and hits him in the chest, sinking into his body without his knowledge. The tear closes back up with an inaudible pop that makes my ears hurt. I stare wide-eyed at the nothing left behind, shocked. I did not consider the possibility that my curse would transcend time.
Ohmyunholyfuck. That is scary.
I have certainly earned my title today.
I wade to the embankment and dry myself with my shirt before pulling my pants on, then slip my feet back in my boots and walk back to the house. I’m exhausted from lack of sleep, stress, and the expenditure of most of my power for that curse. That curse—it boggles my mind. Cursing a person in the past to affect the outcome of their present and future: that’s terrifying. I did not intend to do that, but as I have said time and again: curses are tetchy.
When I get back to the house, Fraser, Amelia, and Cary are in the kitchen having a snack of peanut butter sandwiches and bananas with milk. Cary smiles up at me, a bright light that draws me to the table, sitting across from him. I make myself a sandwich and drink some milk, eating it while I wait for Matt to return with my babies.
“Did you accomplish your task?”
Fraser asks quietly.
I nod, staring at the table. “It was a bit tetchy and decided to curse him yesterday, but it’s done.”
“What do you mean?”
“Uh, it opened up a portal to yesterday to hit him when he took me out in the nursery. I didn’t even realize he was there.”
“That’s terrifying,”
he comments, wide-eyed.
“Yep,”
I agreed whole-heartedly.
For a short time, we fall silent, then Fraser reaches out his hand to me, palm up.
I put my hand in his, looking at him curiously—Fraser is not the most tactile person especially with men in general. He puts up with family, but he rarely offers touch, only receiving what we offer him by way of hugs. And of course, he’s been pissed at me about Matt. “I am sorry for how I treated you and Matt. I should have been supportive, but I was disrespectful, and I regret that.”
I blink back overly emotional tears and squeeze his hand. “Thank you. Of course I’ve already forgiven you.”
He withdraws his hand and Amelia puts her arm around him, hugging him with a satisfied smile. I guess she probably had something to do with this, and for that I am grateful.
“Deejay!”
Matt’s voice calls.
My heart thumps hard as I jump up and run to the foyer, where Matt stands with the twins in his arms, flanked by the Elder Council of the Obsidites. I skid to a halt, pulling my babies into my arms, kissing them, checking them, making sure they are truly ok. They were only gone for a little more than twenty-four hours, but fuck it was an eternity. Gratitude fills my heart, and the tears pour down my cheeks as I express my thanks toward all of them, thanking them through my sobs.