Chapter 8
“Equal loss?” I ask, still unable to open my eyes in fear of throwing up all over the place. Hasan gently rubs circles against my palm with his thumb.
“I didn’t hear enough to know the terms, but every curse has them, whether intentional or not,” Jacques says.
I slit my eyes open to see him still sitting on the floor, probably dizzy as well.
He wasn’t the one doing the spell, but he went on a ride-along with me.
“Some curses are straightforward in a sense, cast out of anger. Others are set in place to teach others a lesson.”
“I’m not following,” Thomas says, pacing back and forth.
“I think it means people who cast a curse because they feel wronged don’t really have an intention other than causing pain,” Gemma says. “While others are set in place to prevent something from happening and can be avoided.”
“Right.” Jacques gives her a nod. “Cursing an object that’s not meant to be moved from a sacred site…you won’t get cursed if you listen and don’t take the object.”
“But how does that relate to us?” Gil asks.
“From what I heard”—Jacques leans forward and blows out another candle—“this curse was cast with both in mind. Out of anger and also to teach a lesson. To know what real pain feels like.”
“Real pain?” Hasan echoes.
“Ace,” Thomas says quietly. “If Ace dies, it will be real pain. Ace dies, and the curse will break.” He shakes his head. “That’s worse than being cursed.”
Jacques meets his eyes. “Exactly.”
“There has to be another way,” I say, and slowly sit up. My head whirls and all I want to do is sleep.
“Being cursed isn’t so bad,” Hasan tries, though out of all the guys, I think he’s the only one who truly enjoys the benefits of being a gargoyle. That man was built for battle, and having superhuman strength suits him.
“It’s not,” Gil agrees, not able to look me in the eye. I know how bad he and his twin long to feel the sun on their faces again. “With the charms, we’re able to at least go out into the real world.”
“Only at night.”
“Like a vampire,” Gemma suggests, nodding enthusiastically. “And vampires are hot.”
“Not in real life, they’re not,” I add sullenly, letting out a breath. At least I know a way to break the curse, though I’m not about to throw myself into oncoming traffic or anything. But if the magic will break because of heartache…then there has to be another way to chip away at it.
“So…about that movie,” Jacques says, standing. He’s eager to change the subject because he thinks I’m going to fess up and tell the guys we don’t have much time to figure this out.
“Right. I’m in the mood for something funny.
” I push my hair back and bring my legs up, resting my head on Hasan’s shoulder.
Gil picks up the remote and turns on the TV.
No one bickers over what to watch, which goes to show how tense and distracted we all are.
Halfway into the movie, I get an alert on my phone that the motion sensor in the front of the house was triggered.
Hasan shoots up, fists balled, ready for a fight.
“Hang on,” I tell him, impatiently staring down at my phone, waiting for the app to load and show me the footage. “It looks like an animal.”
Thomas goes to the front window and pulls the curtain back. “Raccoon.”
“Dammit,” I say with a shake of my head. “Those things are pests.”
“I think they’re cute,” Gemma says.
“Yeah, real cute when they’re digging in the trash.”
“Want me to kill it?” Hasan offers, and Gemma balks.
“No,” I say. “I’m sure they’ve been here longer than I have. We’re surrounded by farmland and woods.”
“We could eat it,” Hasan suggests.
I wrinkle my nose. “People don’t generally eat raccoons. Maybe we’ll go hunting another time.” I shake my head. “Okay, no. I’m not for killing animals when I can go to the grocery store and get what I need.”
Hasan laughs and sits back down next to me. “I told you I can keep watch better than your cameras.”
“Yeah,” I agree, and pull his arms around me. “But I like you here too. It’s nice being together.”
“It is.” He tips his head down and kisses the top of my head. I close my eyes, heart beating fast and a sick feeling forming in the pit of my stomach.
Sending golems after me? That’s a dick move for sure, but one I can handle. One I can fight and beat.
Which I will.
But losing my guys? I can’t handle that, and I feel like it’s just my fucking luck to finally find my family, no matter how unconventional it is, only to have them taken right out from underneath me.
“You’re sure this isn’t pot?” Jared asks, a smirk on his face.
I cock an eyebrow. “Getting high is the last thing you want when your life is in danger. You need to stay sharp.”
He rolls his eyes. “No shit.”
His attitude used to annoy me, but I’ve gotten used to it and almost appreciate his sarcasm. It reminds me of myself, which probably is a bad thing that I should strongly discourage. Though I didn’t turn out so bad. Well, I guess it depends on who you ask.
“But you’ve brought up a good point. Sage can look and smell a little questionable, and if you burn it in your room your parents will probably accuse you of smoking.”
“So what do I do if ghosts come after me again?”
“Salt circle.” I turn and open a cabinet. We’re in my kitchen, and I’m answering more of Jared’s questions. I grab a canister of salt and hand it to Jared. “And then call me or my friend Gemma.”
“What about your…your other friends?”
“My friends?” I question, though I know exactly who he’s talking about, but I want to see how far he’ll take this.
He believed the gargoyles could come to life before I even moved in, and he knows I have a boyfriend living with me.
He’s met Jacques before, and—fuck—I can’t even remember if he’s met the others. That’s the state my mind is in.
He knows my friends helped find him, and that Hasan carried him down the path. He was still with him when the ambulance came, needing to be there as a human to make the story look believable.
“They know about the supernatural world, don’t they?”
“Yes,” I tell him honestly. For some reason, I trust Jared. He believes with his whole body and soul. But the less he knows about this, the better.
His brow furrows. “So your boyfriend…what’s his name?”
“Jac.”
“So Jac knows about ghosts and things, and that other guy I talked to, Gil, knows about it too.”
“Yes.”
Jared turns the can of salt over and over in his hands as he thinks. “How did you get into it? Were you drawn to it like me?”
“I guess in a sense,” I answer honestly. I was drawn to proving the supernatural wasn’t real. Funny how things worked out.
“You’re not giving me very good answers here, Ace.”
I laugh and lean against the counter. “I know. Sorry. There are some things I can’t tell you for your own good.”
“When you say that, it makes me want to know even more.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“So, the ghosts,” he starts again. “Are you a professional ghost hunter?”
“Nope. And pretty much anyone who calls themselves a ‘professional ghost hunter’ is a fucking fraud, if you ask me.”
“But you know about ghosts.”
I inhale, wishing Jac were here to take the reins. I’m not good at teaching, and I don’t know where to draw the line. Should I tell him I’m a witch? The vague half-answers are frustrating, I’m sure, and I can’t teach the kid if I’m constantly lying to him.
What if he does have powers, like Gemma? She obviously didn’t come from a magical family, and I don’t think everyone has to in order to harness the powers of magic. Swallowing hard, I push my shoulders back and look Jared in the eye.
“I’m a witch.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “A witch.”
“Yes. A witch.”
“I…I don’t know what that means,” he admits. “Like you believe in Wicca or whatever?”
“No. I don’t really believe in anything, to be honest.” I hold up my hand and feel my fingertips heat with magic. “It means I have powers.” I rub my fingers together and a tiny flame ignites. I let it burn bright in front of him for a few seconds before closing my fingers.
Jared’s jaw falls open and he stares at me for several seconds. “What…wait…what?” he stutters.
“That’s why I know about ghosts. That’s why I told you there are some things you’re better off not knowing. Now you know the truth—the whole truth—and you’ve got to trust me.”
He blinks and nods, but I don’t think he’s fully comprehending what I’m saying.
“A witch?” he echoes, voice small.
“Yes. I’m a witch.” Gemma comes down the back staircase holding a basket of dirty laundry. “She is too.”
“I am,” Gemma agrees. “Wait, what am I?”
“A witch,” I say.
“Are we telling him?” she asks, setting the basket of laundry down.
“I already did.” I push off the counter to get something to drink. The sun is out in full force today, and while we have AC units placed around the house, it’s still hot in here during the day.
“Did you tell him we have to kill him now?” Gemma steps into the kitchen and Jared’s eyes go wide. “I’m kidding!”
“Oh, right.” Jared fakes a laugh. “So you’re both really real…real…witches.”
“Yes.” Gemma motions to me. “Ace has cooler powers, though. She saved my life. Twice now.”
I shrug. “It’s all in a day’s work.”
Jared’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he shakes himself and reaches for it. “It’s my dad,” he mumbles, and silences the call.
“Does he know you’re here?”
Jared shakes his head. “I stopped by on my way home from a friend’s house.”
“Call him back,” I press. “He’s still shaken from you getting lost in the woods.”
“It sounds so lame when you say it like that.”
“I know,” I agree. “But we can’t go around telling people you got kidnapped by a ghost, now can we?”
He blinks a few times before he nods. “Are you really a cop?” He gasps. “Do you actually work for a supernatural FBI or something?”
“Yes, I’m a cop, and no. As far as I know, there is no supernatural police force. I work for the Philadelphia Police Department, and my job is to prove murders with ties to the occult aren’t actually committed by the occult.”
Jared gives me a blank stare, trying to process everything. His phone rings again and I point to it.
“Answer it. Tell him you stopped by to talk about the yard work.”
Jared nods and answers the phone. Gemma motions for me to follow her into the laundry room.
“You told him?” She sets her basket down.
“Should I not have? I’m so clueless with teaching this kid. But all the lies are getting complicated, and the less to remember the better.”
“I’m glad you did. You know I’m proud to call myself a witch, and after what he went through with the ghost, I’m sure he’s had an inkling of an idea you had some sort of magical powers.”
“Yeah. I know he’s dying for answers. I’m not the best teacher, but I’m hoping if I guide him then I’ll keep him on the right path.”
“Good thinking. Do you think he could be a witch? Well, a wizard as they’re technically called.”
“I have no idea. How do you know? Hell, I had powers my whole life and didn’t know.”
Gemma smiles. “Think of what it would have been like to have had someone like you there to guide you when you were his age.”
“God, everything could be different. And I mean everything. My parents…they might still be alive if I were raised as a witch.”
“You don’t know for sure if your mom was a witch or not, right?”
“Right. I think it’s safe to say my aunt knew, but as to why she never reached out to my mom…” I shake my head. “I’m getting off track here. He knows we’re witches and thinks that Jacques is my boyfriend and the others are just my friends. And he doesn’t know who they are.”
“Best keep it that way.”
I nod. “Right.” I go back into the kitchen. Jared is still on the phone with his dad, arguing about something.
“Dad, stop. I’m at Detective Bisset’s house, I swear. Here, ask her if you don’t believe me.” Jared thrusts the phone at me. “You told me to answer,” he mouths.
I give him a lopsided smile and take the phone. “Hi, Roger.”
“Detective?”
“Yes, but please call me Ace. Jared stopped by to discuss doing yard work. He says he’s feeling up to it.”
“Oh, well, okay.” Roger obviously didn’t trust Jared to be here and is flustered. He was ready to yell at Jared and has nothing now. “Is he bothering you?”
“No, not at all. He’s a good kid. I’ll send him on his way in a bit. I just pulled cookies out of the oven and promised him a few. Take care.” I hang up and hand Jared his phone back.
“Cookies? Really? Like a fucking kid.” Jared puts his phone back in his pocket.
“You are a fucking kid. And everyone loves cookies.”
“I want cookies now,” Gemma says, coming back into the kitchen. “I think I’ll make some.”
“With magic?” Jared asks excitedly.
“No.” Gemma raises her eyebrows. “The normal way.”
“Oh,” he says, disappointed. A few seconds of silence fall before he fires off another question. “So the people who attacked downtown,” he starts.
I hold up my hand. “No, they weren’t people, but that’s not something I can talk about. Not yet at least.”
I expect a little bit of a protest from him. The kid always protests and has something snarky to say. But this time he just nods. Maybe I should have told him I was a witch sooner.
“I think that’s enough for today,” I tell him gently. “That’s a lot to process. And obviously, don’t say anything to anyone.”
Gemma turns around. “Because then we will have to kill you.”
“Oh, we will,” I say seriously, and hold Jared’s gaze. He laughs nervously, looking back and forth from me to Gemma, waiting for one of us to crack and laugh first.
“I swear I won’t tell.”
“Good.” I give him a wink and set my cup of water down. “Text me tomorrow and we can see if there’s time to talk more.”
“Thanks, Ace,” he says sincerely. “Thanks for telling me the truth and thanks for believing in me. No one else did.”
I smile, and I know I did the right thing.