Cursed Witch Read online

  He presses a kiss to my lip and I surrender to it, my fingers slipping into the short hair at the back of his head. But as great as that sounds, and as much as I want it, I know without a doubt it’s not all I want. Because when I think about my future, Calder is definitely there—but he’s not the only one. I thought Calder understood that, but maybe I was wrong.

  Chapter Two

  Bryn

  My body is still humming with a delicious contentment as I walk back toward the cabin. Calder invited me to join him in picking berries for this morning’s breakfast, but I’m itching to get started researching. Maybe it’s just the lingering endorphins from our forest romp, but I can’t help feeling today is going to be a good one. No matter how many books and scrolls of information there are to go through today, I’m positive we’ll find something to put us on the right track.

  But my optimism shatters when I step into the meadow where the cabin sits.

  Poe and Silas circle each other slowly, their posture leaving no room to question their intentions. With fists raised and muscles pulled taut, it’s clear the men are prepared to spring at each other with the slightest provocation.

  I scan the clearing. Where is Taj? He must have picked up on the animosity between these two. Why would he leave them unsupervised?

  I’m about to call out, but when Poe springs at Silas, the words die in my throat. Poe’s leonine speed gives him the upper hand and his broad shoulder slams into Silas’ stomach, sending the daemon skittering backward. Silas brushes his black hair out of his eyes as he regains his footing and leaps forward.

  Despite the chill still clinging to the shadows, Poe wears a tank top that shows off every lithe muscle as he jumps aside. His fist a blur, he lands a punch to Silas’ gut.

  Silas doubles over and I come to my senses. I can’t let this go on. There’s no telling how far the two of them will take this. One of them is liable to kill the other.

  I streak toward the fray. “Stop!” Launching myself off the ground, I aim for Poe’s back. But he twists, pulling Silas into a headlock, and I splat onto the grass near their feet.

  Magic rushes out of me before I consciously call on it. Gold and green threads seep into the ground, building in intensity until the earth beneath the guys shakes so violently, they’re knocked off balance. Poe pitches backward and releases a grunt when his shoulders slam into the dirt. Silas barely manages to catch himself before his face smashes into a bed of clover.

  Poe rolls over as the ground stops shifting, propping himself up on his hands and knees as his chest heaves, struggling to draw breath. Silas launches himself to his feet and rounds on me. “What the hell was that?”

  My jaw drops. For a moment, I’m too shocked to answer. “I should be asking you the same thing. I can’t leave you two unsupervised for an hour without you beating the crap out of each other?”

  “Sparring,” Poe grunts from the ground.

  My gaze snaps to him. “What?”

  “We were sparring,” Silas says, as if it’s the obvious conclusion. “We have no idea what we’ll be up against when we leave this forest. Who knows where the staff is, or who’s protecting it, or who we’ll run into between here and there. Poe thought it would be a good idea to know what each of us is capable of—without magic—if we find ourselves in a fight. And I agree with him.”

  I blink as I try to make sense of his words. “You agree? With Poe? And… And you two weren’t trying to kill each other?”

  Poe releases a wheezy laugh as he pulls himself to his feet. “Silas may’ve been trying, but it’s not like he can do much damage.”

  Silas snorts. “I’m sorry. How many times did I knock you on your ass?”

  Poe chuckles, and I can’t wrap my head around the two of them being civil to one another. It’s like I’ve walked into some kind of bizarro world.

  “So everything’s okay here?” As much as I want it to be true, part of me can’t help wondering if they won’t actually try to kill each other if I blink. “I can go in and get started on research, and you two will be all right?”

  Poe nods. “The daemon doesn’t need as much work as I thought he would. I’ll take Taj next. Then Calder.”

  I offer a playful smile. “Saving me for last?”

  He stretches out his back. “Makes sense. I figure you’ll need the most work.”

  I laugh, but the sound quickly dies when Poe’s expression remains stony. Heat flares in my cheeks while I hold his gaze. “I can hold my own.”

  “With magic, maybe. But what happens if you can’t access it and you have to rely on strength and skill? Have you thought about that?” He lifts his eyebrows as if daring me to disagree.

  I want to argue, to wipe the know-it-all look off his face, but I can’t come up with a logical response. As much as I hate to admit it, not only is hand-to-hand combat training a good idea, Poe is probably right about me needing the most work. It isn’t like I had a lot of chances to work on my fighting skills while in solitary confinement. And although my magic has been getting stronger lately, I know better than to count on it. Out here in the forest, with my feet firmly planted in the dirt, the power surges easily. But I spent too much time in a concrete prison not to recognize the effect being cut off from my element has on my abilities.

  “Fine. Just try not to poke each other’s eyes out. You’ll need them to help go through all these documents.”

  Poe waves me off and I stalk to the cabin. By the time I slam the door behind me, I’m fuming.

  “All right there, love?” Taj sits at the far end of the split-log table, the light streaming in from the nearest window casting a golden glow on his dark brown hair. His eyebrows bunch as he studies me. “Something happen in the forest?”

  My sex jolts at the memory of my time with Calder and it takes a moment to realize that’s not what Taj is asking. “No. It’s Poe. He seems to think I’m useless.”

  Taj stands and crosses to me. “I’m sure that’s not the case,” he says, cupping my cheek in his hand. “He’s a decent bloke, Poe. He’s just doing what he can to make sure we can lift this curse and get on with our lives. We all are.”

  My stomach twists at the thought of the future. Fifteen minutes ago, the idea of what comes next filled me with peace, but now it only brings anxiety. Poe easily identified a flaw that I never would have seen. What other obvious things am I completely overlooking because I have no frame of reference? “What does the future even look like for me? I don’t have a home to go to—or family. I can’t go get a job or… or…” A choked sob escapes from my mouth. “I don’t even know what normal people do. My whole life has been as Mona’s pet. I don’t have a life to get on with.”

  “Hey.” Taj tucks some hair behind my ear, his warm brown eyes not leaving mine. “You can have any kind of life you want. It’s okay if you don’t know what that looks like yet. I can help you figure that out. If you want me to, that is.” The corner of his mouth quirks, but there’s a real question behind his casual comment.

  When this is all over, do I want Taj to remain in my life? Yes. In fact, I can’t imagine a future without him in it. And while I don’t know what shape my fate will take, just imagining Taj beside me makes it less frightening to face.

  Tipping back my head, I push up on my toes until our lips touch. Tingles surge through my body as his free arm wraps around my back, pulling me tight against him. I open my mouth and his tongue slips forward to explore. I slide my hands across the broad expanse of his shoulders and down the lithe muscles of his back. Any fears about the future melt away as his hand tangles in my hair while the other caresses the curve of my ass.

  “I’m back. I—uh. Oh.”

  Taj pulls back enough to leave a whisper of space between us as we turn to the door. Calder’s eyes are wide and round, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he takes in the scene.

  There was a girl I met soon after arriving at Mona’s compound—a psychic who could read people’s thoughts. I’ve never envied her ability
until now. Calder knows where I stand when it comes to the two of them. He knows I can't choose between them, and he’s promised not to make me. But so far, accepting our arrangement seems to be easier said than done for him.

  Without stepping away from Taj, I turn toward Calder and offer a smile. “Was the berry hunt successful?” When he doesn’t respond, I glance at the canvas bag in his hand, which is clearly full of something.

  After a beat, he follows my gaze. “Um, yeah. I found raspberries and blackberries.”

  I glance out the still-open door, but although I can hear Poe and Silas grunting as they spar, neither are visible from my vantage point. “I love raspberries.”

  “Have you eaten yet this morning, love?” Taj asks. When I shake my head, he turns his attention to Calder. “Mate, maybe you should get some of those washed off for our girl.”

  Our girl. The words send a shiver through me. I love the sound of them because they’re true. I’m their girl. Both of them equally. At least, that’s what I hope I can be. But while Taj seems at ease with the arrangement, there is a distinct tension in Calder’s shoulders as he closes the front door and strides to the sink along the back wall.

  I thought we came to an understanding last time we talked about my feelings for him and Taj, but I sense that’s not entirely true.

  Calder said he wouldn’t make me choose between them, but what if he’s been hoping I’ll come to a decision on my own? The thought of never being with Taj again, of feeling his lips on mine, the warmth of his hands, hollows me out. But the idea of being without Calder is equally untenable.

  As if he knows exactly what thoughts are going on in my head, as Calder begins cranking the hand pump for water to wash the berries, Taj nudges me in Calder’s direction. When Taj adds an encouraging nod, his intent is clear: He accepts this arrangement, but Calder still needs some convincing—and I’m the one who has to do it. Although Taj and Calder are friends who have worked together with the Liberation Front for the past few years, nothing in their friendship has paved the way for a conversation like this. No, it needs to come from me.

  Except, as I close the distance to Calder, no words come. How am I supposed to begin a talk about such an intimate subject?

  “Calder?”

  He stiffens at the sound of his name, although I’m sure he heard me striding across the floor. He keeps his focus on his task, running water over palmfuls of berries at a time, clearing off dry leaves and dirt before depositing them in a stone bowl.

  “Calder.” My voice is firmer this time, and I touch the back of his arm.

  He drops the last handful of berries into the bowl before turning to face me. “What, Bryn?”

  But I don’t have any words. Instead, I slide my hands around the back of his neck and pull his mouth down to mine. For a terribly long moment, he doesn’t respond. Although he doesn’t pull away, he remains still as a statue. But when I step in closer, pressing my body against his, his tension breaks and his muscles relax. His lips work against mine, stoking the banked flames from our earlier encounter.

  Far too quickly, he pulls back. But instead of looking at me, his gaze seeks someone behind me.

  Taj.

  “How can you be okay with this?” Calder asks. “I know you. I know how much she means to you. How can you just stand there, watching her kiss me?”

  I turn, and it strikes me I want to know the answer as much as Calder.

  Taj leans against the wooden countertop, arms loosely crossed over his chest like he’s contemplating a work of art at a museum. “You’re right, mate. I do care about her. And that’s why I’m okay with this. I can’t imagine the kind of hell she went through all those years as Mona’s pet. I only saw what went on there for a few months and it nearly ruined me. And, to be honest, I hoped when she got out of the compound she might want to be with me. But I was also afraid when she realized who I was working with, she’d pick you instead. And either way, it wouldn’t have sat right with me. But this glorious girl chose something I didn’t even consider. She wants us both. I’m willing to give her just that. The question is, are you?”

  Calder snorts. “So, that’s your plan? We share her? How’s that supposed to work?”

  But his eyes aren’t on Taj anymore. I’m the one who wants this, and I’m the one who has to answer. Except I don’t exactly know. Not yet.

  “We’ll figure it out as we go.” I run my fingertips over the stubble sprouting on Calder’s cheek. “What do you say?”

  Hesitation flickers in his gaze, but in the next second, Calder’s mouth is on mine again. The force of his kiss takes my breath away, but I’m barely able to marvel at it before he grips my shoulders and spins me until my back is to his chest. He sweeps my hair over my shoulder and brings his mouth down on the side of my neck. His hands snake around to my breasts. After testing their weight, he tweaks my right nipple through the fabric of my shirt before lifting the left one like an offering.

  Taj’s eyes darken as he pushes off the counter. Once before me, he lifts my shirt and crouches to take my nipple in his mouth.

  My head lolls back against Calder’s shoulder as he continues to kiss my neck and knead the flesh of my other breast.

  In the days since my escape from Mona’s compound, I’ve spent plenty of time fantasizing about these men—about the feeling of their hands on me, their mouths on me, of coming together in a variety of different locations and positions. But not once have I imagined a scenario like this. Having them both is one thing, but having them both together is beyond my wildest dreams.

  As Calder’s free hand dips to cover my aching mound and Taj sculpts the curves of my butt and thighs, the tension in me builds, yearning for release.

  “Taj, Poe’s ready for—ah, yikes! Hang a sock on the door or something, will you?”

  At the sound of Silas’ voice, I attempt to spring away from Taj and Calder, but there’s nowhere for me to go. Instead, I focus on pulling my shirt back down as Taj straightens and Calder takes a step back. My cheeks flame, but the way Taj’s mouth twitches tells me he’s less embarrassed and more amused by the interruption.

  Clearing his throat, Taj walks toward the front door. “I guess I should…” Not bothering to finish the sentence, he steps outside.

  Silas crosses his arms over his chest. “Let the researching continue,” he mutters drily.

  Calder picks up the bowl of berries and catches my eye as we cross to the table. Although he doesn’t smile or wink, the peace I detect in his gaze makes my heart sing. While it didn’t last long, the three of us just took a step forward. I can only hope we’re moving in the right direction.

  Chapter Three

  Bryn

  I glance out the window, watching the corded muscles of Poe’s back as he pulls Calder into yet another headlock. “Do you think he ever gets tired?”

  “Of kicking our asses?” Silas asks from his spot at the table. “Doubtful.”

  It’s late afternoon, and save a half-hour break at lunchtime to eat, Poe has been sparring all day. And if Taj’s sweat-drenched hair and the bruise blooming around Silas’ left eye are any indication, Poe isn’t going easy on them.

  “He’s a shifter,” Taj says, returning from the sink with yet another glass of water. “Their stamina is incredible. Better than just about any other supernatural.”

  I turn back to the scene in the meadow. Calder dodges a punch, but before he can land a hit, Poe takes him out at the legs. “Still. Maybe he should take a break.”

  “Maybe you should stop staring out the window and get back to researching,” Silas mutters.

  I sigh. “You’re probably right. It’s just…” I wave my hand at the stacks of books and scrolls on the table. “How are we supposed to figure out where the Staff of Rahn is by reading all this stuff? I mean, Elowen put it here, which means she must have all this information just lying around. She hasn’t found it, but she expects us to?”

  Silas shrugs. “I don’t pretend to know the great mage’s mind. A
ll I know is she said the only way she’s lifting this curse is if we bring her the magic stick, so that’s what I intend to do.”

  I turn to Taj, but he lifts a shoulder. “Maybe figuring out where the staff is is part of her price. Or maybe she never had a reason to look for it before now. But Silas is right—what’s important is us finding it.”

  As much as I’d like to continue lamenting about the enormity of the task before us, I can’t argue. Every minute I waste brings us one minute closer to the curse claiming not just my life, but my magic. If the vampire who directed Silas to cast this curse gets what she wants, she’ll become an unstoppable force. There’s no telling what kind of evil Lillian will perpetrate as an immortal with mastery over all four elemental magics.

  I scoot onto the bench across from Taj and pull a heavy leather-bound tome from the middle of the table. The cover is so distressed that the title of the book is long gone—if indeed there was ever one to begin with. From what I can tell, these works are less a selection of library books and more a collection of one-of-a-kind documents—journals, books of shadows, handwritten histories. Part of me wonders how Elowen acquired such a vast array of records, but a larger part of me would be too afraid to ask.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when I open the book and find the first page etched with dark, thick pen strokes—unlike the spidery writings I had to squint to decipher in the last several I skimmed.

  The truth is, I’m not entirely sure what to look for. I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for any references to Rahn or his staff, but the one time I came across his name, I was disappointed to find the surrounding words were little more than an appeal to the first great mage for guidance and power to face challenges in the writer’s life.