Chapter 2
2
JOSEPHINE
I t’s a cool November day, but I’m soaked in a cold sweat. Already exhausted from the massage I gave a client earlier, running into Roman Blackthorn while trying to escape his hotel did me in. I don’t know what my mother was thinking, allowing a client to schedule an appointment at the Grand Mystic Resort. That is Tenebris territory. As a member of the Lumen coven, I should never have been on that side of the river. My dear mother doesn’t care about those details when it comes to me. As long as she gets paid. If Roman reports me to his coven, it’s not like my mom will admit she’s the reason I was there in the first place. Even knowing all that, I still followed directions, like the dutiful daughter I am.
Coward. I suppose that’s another way to say it.
I can’t tear my eyes away from Roman Blackthorn as he strides away from me. Easy as can be. He practically pinned me against the side of his hotel, threatened me, and then walks off as though he didn’t just create a churning whirlpool of sensation in my body.
It’s fear. I’m sure of it. My body’s reaction has nothing to do with the perfect way he wears a suit, or his chiseled jaw. The heady cologne he wears that I can still smell and has my head swimming. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that no man has ever looked at me with that kind of intensity before. Even if the look was partnered with a threat.
It takes me another minute of deep breathing to get my heart rate under control. With a groan, I pick up my massage table and stumble to my car. By the time I pull into my parking spot, I have to give myself a pep talk to stand up and walk the short distance to my apartment.
I just need some food and a nap, and then I’ll feel better. Not great. I never feel more than mediocre, but at least I can calm the shaking. Such is life when you're cursed to feel pain whenever you touch someone. To make matters worse, my job requires physical contact. It’s hard to give a massage without putting your hands on someone.
“Why don’t you just run away to California? Where there’s no snow and the sun shines all the time. Your mother would be thousands of miles away,” I mumble into the still cold interior of my car.
I sigh. That’s not ever going to be an option. At least not while my mother dangles my youngest sister Penelope as blackmail to get me to obey. While that’s a huge part of the web I’m trapped in, it’s not just that. I know my healing abilities help people. My coven is proud of the work I do. How can I walk away from that? How selfish would that be?
My apartment is one of four in a federal-style building that was once a single-family home. It was converted into four units sometime in the eighties. The red brick exterior was painted white at one point and then never again. The white has chipped and faded until the red has started peeking through, giving the building a pink appearance. Creeping ivy partially covers the building. The tree-lined sidewalks are brick and hell to walk on with heels, but so damn pretty, I don’t care.
Walking up the handful of steps to the front door is murder on my thighs. My feet are leaden weights. My grip on the iron railing is so tight I’m testing how securely it’s fastened to the steps. I punch in the building code and sigh with relief once I step inside. A long stairway with a carved wooden banister leads to the two apartments upstairs, but my place is the first door to the right.
Two of my best friends, Stellan and Piper, also have an apartment in the building. We’ve scooped up the open apartments here as one tenant and then the next left. Stellan’s sister, Ava, would likely live here, too, if she hadn’t moved into her boyfriend's place a year ago. I love having them so close. That also means there are no secrets between us. Not that I have any secrets to keep.
My key barely clicks open the lock on my door when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I slump against the door to close it and fish my phone out of the tight back pocket of my leggings. My head hits the door with a thump, and I groan at the name on the screen.
If I don’t answer it, she’ll just keep calling.
“Hello, Mother.” I’m proud of how even my voice is.
“What took you so long to answer? Are you screening my calls again?” The dulcet screech of my mother’s voice has me cringing and pulling the phone from my ear. I drop my keys on a table in the entry and glance longingly at my couch. What I wouldn’t give to kick off my shoes, lay down, and binge-watch shows with hot men who have thick thighs, solve crimes, and communicate through taciturn grunts. Instead, I’m going to have to shower and get all dressed up soon.
“I just walked through the door.”
“That’s no excuse. Do you have the gown I sent over for you?”
I stare up at the crown molding where the walls meet the ten-foot ceilings. The hardwood floors are original and creak with every step. There’s a constant draft from old windows, but I love my apartment because it’s my own space.
The founders parties are tonight and they’re the worst. You’d think a bunch of witches getting together would be fun, but they’re stuffy, snobby events where the founding families try to one-up each other. One year, the Roth family brought in a handful of peacocks, and they kept chasing and attacking guests. Piper still has a scar on her hand where one bit her and she wouldn’t let me heal the injury. My parents had a juggler who would blow fire last year. He wasn’t even a witch, but a human they hired. He burned my mother’s shrubs, and she screamed at him until he cried. That was a fun time.
Every member of the two covens of Mystic Hollows is expected to attend the parties. Meaning there are parties for each of the six original magical families of our town. I don’t want to go to one party on a normal day. Any other time of the year, the Lumen and Tenebris covens stick to their own sides of the city. The Lumen coven is raised with the knowledge that dark magic users are wicked. But not too evil to party with once a year, it seems.
“...better be presentable. If I have to introduce you to anyone tonight, I don’t want to be embarrassed. Try not to speak. And if anyone asks you any house questions for Maiden’s sake, don’t answer.” I let my mother’s lecture flow over me. Every time I speak to her, I’m told to keep my mouth shut, how much of an embarrassment I am to the family, and how I don’t meet anyone’s standards. It’s a speech I’ve heard many times.
“Are you even listening to me?” Another shriek pierces my ear through the phone, and I wince.
“Of course.”
My mother makes a shocked sound, and my stomach plummets. What now?
“How dare they. Unbelievable. Tenebris scum sitting in Lumen territory as if they have the right to be here.” My mother snarls distractedly.
With the way Mystic Hollows is split straight down the Briar Hollows River, there are very clear boundaries. If the covens discover you’ve been in territory where you don’t belong, it’s possible they will punish you. They might drain you of magic or hit you with a fine. It all depends on the mood of the council and how popular you are within the community. If Roman reports me for being on his side of the river, I’m sure my punishment will not be a simple slap on the wrist.
“What are they doing?” I’m slightly relieved her anger isn’t directed at me, but I feel bad for whoever is on the receiving end of my mother's death glare. I might not be able to see her, but I know how she is.
“They’re at the park. Some woman with her kids. She doesn’t belong here.”
How do I even respond to that? Any normal person would tell her she’s overreacting, but I know that won’t go well.
“How do you know she’s Tenebris–”
My mother cuts me off. “Because I know my enemies. The audacity.”
Thank the Maiden she can’t see my eye roll. I’d love to point out my mother's hypocrisy. She’s the one who sent me over into Tenebris territory today for a client. But rules don’t apply to her. “Perhaps she just had an appointment over here.”
There’s silence on the other end of the phone. I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Excuse me?” There’s a long pause, and I swallow thickly, pressing my lips together to keep from saying more. “You know, Josephine, I’ve kindly let Penelope shirk her duty and not participate in the founders parties tonight. But that can be rectified.”
I lick my dry lips. Young witches don’t typically attend the founders parties until after their sixteenth birthday. I try very hard to keep Penelope away from my mother’s magical machinations. My mother is cruel, manipulative, and very good at putting on a public persona as a leader in our coven. It breaks my heart to think of how she mentally abuses Penelope, and I do everything in my power to redirect that behavior to me instead. The woman is excellent at using my youngest sister as a bargaining chip. Especially when she thinks I need a reminder about who controls my life.
“No, of course. You’re right.”
A hard, rapid knock on the door vibrates against my back. I seize the opportunity to get off the phone. “Someone is at my door, Mother. I need to go. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Don’t be late. Don’t wear your hair down. You look like a jezebel–”
“–See you soon,” I cut her off and hang up. I’m sure I’ll pay for that later, but I don’t have the energy to listen to her listing more of my faults right now.
The knocking starts up again, and I turn to peer out of the peephole. Avalon Vandenberg, one of my oldest friends and a fellow member of one of the founding families of Mystic Hollows, is the one doing all the banging.
Before the door is open more than an inch, Ava pushes her way inside my apartment. Her face is red and tear streaked. She’s holding her cell phone like she’s going to crush it.
“Ava. Are you okay?”
“I’m going to kill him.” Ava stares straight ahead, rage glimmering in her brown eyes.
I pinch the sleeve of her suit and drag her over to the couch. Ava looks like she’s just come from work. She’s dressed in a somewhat frumpy pantsuit and a beige button-down blouse. Her light brown hair has been pulled into a bun at the base of her neck, and her make-up was probably fresh hours ago, but now she just looks tired.
“Who are you going to kill?”
Ava’s still staring into space. I’m not sure she even realizes I’m here.
“Wasted two years. No, he stole two years. He’s a fucking time thief.”
Ava still isn’t making sense or acknowledging me. I send a quick text to her brother and gnaw on the inside of my lip. Ava and I grew up together. Along with her twin brother Stellan and our friend Piper. The four of us have always been outcasts, the perpetual disappointments of our family. In a small town like Mystic Hollows, where coven events continuously brought us together, we naturally drifted toward one another. I don’t know how I would have survived all these years without the three of them in my corner.
I grit my teeth and place a hand on Ava’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. Pain zips from my fingers, but it’s not as bad through layers of clothing. Skin on skin hurts so much worse. My curse means that any touch, even one given out of kindness or love, brings me horrible pain.
“Ava, what’s going on?” There’s a rasp to my voice. Today has already been a long day, and it’s barely halfway over. I’ve spent hours touching people, my body one giant ache. It’s another way my mother controls me. Keeping me eternally wiped out and in pain. All so she can make money and, ironically, brag about my healing magic to the coven. I don’t care about any of that because my friend is hurting, and touch is important.
Ava turns her head toward me, pulling away so abruptly from my hand that she nearly falls off the couch.
“Jo! Why would you touch me?” A strand of hair flops in her face. She sticks out her bottom lip and huffs it away.
“I was afraid you were catatonic.” A little color has returned to her cheeks. She wraps her arms around her stomach and frowns at her knees.
The apartment door bangs open. Stellan and Piper rush in side by side, looking like a mismatched pair. Stellan got all the height of the twins at six-four, while Ava’s a complete foot shorter than him. Stellan’s got a hot lumberjack thing going on with messy dark brown hair and a full beard that has way more red in it than the strands on his head. He looks like he could carve you up with a giant bowie knife but has the soft interior of a marshmallow for those he cares about.
Piper, on the other hand, has the body of a vixen but is so painfully shy that she barely spoke a handful of words to any of us the first few years we knew her. She’s overcome a lot of that shyness with us, but as soon as she’s back with her family, it’s like watching a flower wilt. Her hair is a fiery red that hints at a fierce temper that doesn’t exist. The smattering of freckles across her nose makes her appear sweet, which is a much more accurate description.
Stellan always walks like he’s facing down a threat. Right now is no different. He storms into the apartment and heads straight for Ava. He stands over her with his hands on his hips. What I can see of his mouth is pressed into a straight line, and his forehead is creased with concern. He reaches out and drops a hand on Ava’s head. “Who am I killing, little sister?”
“You’re the little brother. I’m older,” Ava grumbles. Because of the fucked-up nature of our curses, Ava is the unlucky one of the twins. Stellan dodged that bullet by a stroke of fate.
“Only by three minutes. And by little, I mean your height. How did you end up so shrimpy?”
Ava sticks out her tongue with an exasperated sound and swats Stellan’s hand away. “You called in the cavalry?” She sends an accusing glare my way.
I open my mouth and shut it with a shrug. “You weren’t making any sense.”
Piper rounds the couch and sits on the edge of a barrel chair, keeping completely still. She’s perfectly proper and as unmoving as a statue.
“What happened, Ava?” Piper’s eyes are a vivid blue and they’re currently filled with concern.
Ava sighs, her chin trembling as she swallows with an audible gulp. “I got home from work early today because I needed to start getting ready for the stupid fucking founders parties.” We all nod and grimace in agreement. Does anyone in this town enjoy these parties?
“Jamie was already home, which is weird because he’s never off work this early.”
Oh no. I chew on my thumbnail; pretty sure I know where this story is heading. Ava and Jamie have been dating for the last two years. He proposed last Valentine’s Day over cheese fondue. I tried to be happy for my friend, but I’ve never liked Jamie. He’s attractive enough on the outside, but he’s incredibly vain. Worst of all is the way he constantly puts Ava down. It’s all these little jabs about how her hair would be more flattering a certain way or her clothing would fit better if she lost five pounds. Jamie makes Ava feel like he’s the catch when, in reality, it's the other way around. Ava bought into all his bullshit, and I’ve slowly watched her self-esteem tank.
Stellan must have figured it out as well, because he makes a low rumbling noise that faintly sounds like the word “murder.”
“Yeah, he’s been showing this new intern at work the ropes.” Ava’s nostrils flare, and her eyes roll to the ceiling as she tries to hold back tears. “And by ropes, I mean his penis.”
Stellan’s beard shifts, and I’m pretty sure his mouth is turned down. “Please don’t talk about that asshole’s dick.”
“Can you hover somewhere else? You’re like a looming executioner.” Ava flops back into the couch cushions, throwing a hand up over her eyes.
“Yeah. I’ll go hover my fist right over Jamie’s stupid face and pound his nose in until he has to breathe out of his eyeballs.”
Piper stands up from her chair and squeezes between Stellan and Ava. She drops her hand on Ava’s knee.
“Are you okay? Do you need a place to stay?” Piper's soft voice soothes some of the tension in the air.
Ava groans, dropping her arm to stare at Piper. There’s a lost look haunting her eyes. “Fuck. I have to move.”
“We’ll go get your stuff. You won’t ever have to step foot in that place. You never have to see that piece of shit ever again.” Stellan drops his hand back on his sister's head, and this time, she leaves it there. “The spare room is always yours.”
Stellan has a two-bedroom apartment. Ava’s never lived there, but she stays often enough that the second room is unofficially hers.
“We can go now. I’ll be putting Jamie in the hospital for the foreseeable future, and you won’t have to see his face for a long time.” Stellan walks toward the door, dusting his hands together like that’s that.
“We’ve got the founders parties tonight,” I call out with a grimace.
“Fuck,” Stellan groans, a sound echoed by Ava. Piper and I trade miserable looks. She unconsciously rubs her hand where the damn peacock bit her.
“I’m going to need a lot of alcohol.” Ava sighs and then face plants onto the couch.