Nine
Riley
Hestia kept her promise. Though I wandered the town, visited the library and college to speak to magic users, I didn’t come across any warlocks, my mate or otherwise.
Not surprising, really, since it felt like no matter where I went, there were eyes on me, spies reporting my whereabouts, making it easy for them to avoid me.
No, it was impossible to hide from the residents of Greyhaven, though somehow they were keeping any glimpse of Gareth from me. I just didn’t know how I felt about it.
On the one hand, being confronted by a warlock was not my idea of a good time.
Then, on the other hand, he was my fated mate.
The one person in the world meant for me.
Despite my reaction to him, I was curious about the man.
All I’d glimpsed were pretty hazel eyes, which had been wide with shock, under a mop of curly chestnut?brown hair.
Looks aside, there was a pull to him that pure attraction couldn’t explain. Fate was a tricky thing.
I spent a few days in the cabin they had put me in, too terrified that the curse was going to rebound on me, that it would punish me somehow for finally telling someone about it. Once I started to feel bored and sort of lonely, I got to work on ending this curse for good.
The library near City Hall, and the one at the college, were both well stocked with many tomes of every magical variety.
Just the ones I thought could be useful would take me years to read.
There were that many. I knew I had to get help.
The issue was that all magic users—dragons, mages, witches, whatever these sorcerers called themselves—were all avoiding me.
Apparently, they didn’t get the memo that the only problem I had was with warlocks.
We classified magic users by how they came to be.
Warlocks were also mages or sorcerers, depending on their preferred term and gender.
They came from the pure-blooded fae, a race that no longer existed.
The fae remaining on this side of the veil became diluted over years of intermingling with other supernatural species.
From this dilution, sprites, nymphs, goblins, and warlocks were born.
The fae were tricky by nature. Mercurial.
Stubborn. Quick to temper. They loved bargains and deals.
There was duplicity in all that they did.
These traits were passed on to the other species that came from them.
Witches—the name for any gender—came from demons, which would make most suspicious of them, but the demons, though powerful, used the elements and were often bound to a coven and made harmless.
Most witches had never met the demon their line came from and only had a spot of demon blood in them. Usually, their magic was quite tame.
Then there were the druids. Born of the elves, they lived in balance with nature and could be incredibly powerful.
I’d searched for any sign of them, but like the warlocks and mages, there was no trace of them here.
They would have been my preferred choice of magic user to turn to.
It seemed like I wasn’t getting that choice.
So, being the lesser of evils, I sought out some witches.
There were only a handful in Greyhaven, and most were unwilling to speak to me, aside from the newest resident, a young guy called Oscar.
He and his bird had left their coven after some drama.
He’d been staying with friends for a little while before breaking away to forge his own path.
I didn’t know his past, and even if I could stay in Greyhaven, I wasn’t sure that I cared to. Hypocritical, maybe, but I wanted to take Oscar at face value. He had only been in the supernatural sanctuary for a couple of weeks, so he had a lot to prove.
We bumped into each other in the library.
Oscar had been taking a library science degree back home, which made him more than qualified to look after the collection of books in the vast building.
It took a lot for me to squash down my bitterness that Oscar had only been in Greyhaven for such a short time and had found a job, a purpose in this place.
I didn’t have the right to feel that way with this curse hanging over me.
If I could stay in Greyhaven and make it my home, what would I choose to do with my life?
A moot point. I was no closer to breaking this curse than I had been since I’d arrived. And once it was broken, I’d have to return for my mom. Would she want to come to Greyhaven?
Oscar helped me find the right books on curses and then to cut the pile down further.
Adding his own knowledge and that of his previous coven, we soon figured out that a warlock would be needed to break the curse because a warlock had cast it.
Oscar’s magic was too different. While he’d been fairly gifted in his hometown, he rated low compared to the other casters in Greyhaven.
“I’m so sorry, Riley. There’s not much more I can do. I can maybe buy you some time using talismans, but they’re only effective for a few days.” Oscar grimaced and wrung his hands.
My time in Greyhaven was quickly running down. Over a week had passed since I’d arrived, and I was no closer to breaking the curse on me. “Let’s call that our Plan B, right?”
The younger man looked close to tears. He looked away from me and swiped at his eyes. “Um, sorry. Yeah, I’ll work on them later. There are things I’ll need to get for them.”
“Like?”
“Some herbs, crystals, things like that.” Oscar seemed reluctant to discuss magic with me, which I understood, though it was frustrating. I had so little time to get to the bottom of this curse.
“Anything I can get for you? I want to help if I can.” Something about the younger man made me want to look after him. He appeared so vulnerable. Sort of broken. I wasn’t going to push for information on his past. It was his to deal with.
“I thought…” Oscar trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
“The only problem I have is with warlocks, and you should get that by now. You’ve heard enough of my story to know some of the shit that bastard put us through.”
“Maybe I just thought it would be all casters.”
I made a sweeping motion, brushing that aside. “Nah, I can compartmentalize with the best of them. Witches aren’t warlocks or mages, or sorcerers. Your magic smells and tastes different.”
Oscar looked at me with wide eyes. “Does it?”
“Yeah. Besides, I just feel… I dunno. Nothing about you puts me on guard like other magic users. Maybe it’s because you’re new here too.” I wasn’t about to tell him that he felt like an injured bird to me. He wouldn’t appreciate it.
He brightened. “Maybe. Okay, you can help with the shopping. Want to wait until I change and walk over with me?”
“Sure.”
It was no hardship to stay inside the quiet, warm, and welcoming library to wait for my new friend.
It was rare to have one of those who actually knew the truth about me.
I’d met other shifters in my travels, but they didn’t like my unique scent, even when I made an excuse for it.
Those brief friendships had fizzled before they had any depth.
That was part of the curse. Keeping me a wanderer, a loner, until I was forced to return home. To him.
Being different all my life had me used to my own company, though. I think I’d surprised my stepfather with how long I was holding out alone. Mom picked up my calls sometimes,, never sounding like herself, asking me to come home. I always said no, but it still caused an ache to deny her.
I liked the young witch, even if he was half my age—well, it felt that way.
He was barely in his twenties, and I was in my mid-thirties.
Still, Oscar was nice. He seemed lonely here, so if I could help him as he tried to help me, then it was all good.
I’d be his friend for as long as I was here.
There was always the chance we would stay in touch when I moved on.
Conversation between us was still that slightly awkward, stilted kind as we shopped late afternoon.
Together, we walked downtown, avoiding shoppers as best we could, Greyhaven bustling as they hurried to get the last-minute things they needed.
The parade was the next day, the beginning of their winter festivities.
We went into a magic shop that only ended with me sneezing, so I handed him some cash and waited outside while Oscar shopped.
I had to cross the street because of how strong the magic was, just to get my sneezing under control.
Finally, he emerged about ten minutes later, slightly pink -faced, and handed me the change.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“What is it?” The seriousness of his tone had me on guard.
“When we were talking about your curse… did you know you have two curses on you?” Oscar looked agitated.
“What? No! Two? What the fuck?” I paced around the small garden set back from the street. In summer, this place was likely in full bloom with many different types of flowers and trees carefully planted to attract bees.
“Yeah, so when I was asking inside the store, they said that this thing you have with warlocks isn’t all just your history. They think you’ve been hit with an aversion curse,” Oscar said, looking sour. “It’s something I can break. They gave me the spell. If you want, of course.”
“Aversion curse? What does that mean?” I stopped pacing to look at him.
“The warlock who put the curse on you made a failsafe. It means you can’t go near a warlock, the one being who can lift the wandering curse, otherwise you’ll panic and run away.”
“I thought—”
Oscar smiled sadly. “No, Riley. You’re stronger than that. Five years of wandering the country, of never having a home, and you’re still standing. Still fighting with everything you have. That’s strength. You’re brave. Far braver than I could ever be.
“Come on, give yourself some credit. You found this place and made it your home all by yourself. I think you’re strong too.” Oscar’s cheeks darkened with a blush. “What do you need me to do?”
He stared at me for a full minute before he broke out of his thoughts. “Nothing, really. There’s a potion I can put together right now and some words to say. It really is a beautiful spell, and it’s so simple someone like me can do it—”
“Hey, don’t put yourself down, okay?”
His smile was blinding. “Will you let me try to break it, Riley?” He paused briefly, then lit up brighter than before. “Goddess, this is the first time I’ve been excited to use my magic in such a long time.”
“Okay. Do we have to go anywhere?”
“Nope!” Oscar set the bags down on the park bench. “I’ve got everything here.” He rifled through the bags, setting aside a couple of items. He took pinches of one, a splash of another, a couple of drops, then mixed them all together.
“That’s it?” I asked dubiously.
“Yeah.” He grinned widely. “It’s all in the words and intention. This just opens you up to my magic. Here…” He brandished the tiny bottle. “Drink this.”
“My mom told me never to take drinks from strangers,” I joked. When his face fell, I snatched it from his outstretched hand. “Good thing we’re friends, not strangers.” I unstoppered the bottle and drank it all in one gulp.
“Oh!” Oscar circled me. “I can see the curses! Okay, one I know I can break. It acts like a collar, choking you whenever you get too close to help. Clever.” He grimaced at my glare. “Evil, but smart.”
The witch didn’t give me a chance to say anything. He began chanting in some strange language I had no hope of understanding. The magic flared between us. I felt a sensation of heat in my core, then a sort of popping.
“Done!” Oscar said with another grin. He really was cute when he smiled like that. Too young and sweet for me, though.
“Just like that?”
“Yeah, just like that.”
“How will we know if it worked? All the warlocks in town are avoiding me.”
He suddenly looked apprehensive. “Well, maybe I can help you find one.”