Chapter 13

“Remember that blond guy I told you about?” I asked.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“He was in my dream. He was there when she died, he was there because he’s the one who betrayed her.”

“Are you saying that my ancestor knocked on your door?”

That’s exactly what I was saying, but he knew that. I didn’t want to say it out loud, because that would make it real. How did he get to my house? Why did he want in so badly? I didn’t realize I was pacing until Cameron stopped me, grabbing my shoulders to get my attention.

“Wynter, stop and breathe for a moment.”

“Three days, Cameron!” I sobbed. “Three days to break a curse that’s hundreds of years old!” My throat started to close, and it got harder to breathe, tears stung my eyes.

“Look at me,” he said. “I’m here, I’m alive.”

He was trying to comfort me, ground me in some way. But the last lines Amelia spoke in life, echoed in my head.

“But for how long?” My voice cracked with emotion.

“As long as anyone else.” He answered.

He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tightly. He took me home after that. Not leaving my side even as I walked into my room. My tears had dried along the way, though my heart was still heavy in my chest. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him without the intrusive thought of ‘you’ll never be able to save him’ flashing in my mind. I wished that I believed it to be untrue. I wished that I had the faith in myself that Cameron seemed to hold, but how do I know if I’m strong enough to break the curse?

I thought back to the dream, trying to find each step Amelia did to cast the spell. If I know how she did it then maybe I could undo it. Walking over to my altar I grabbed my grimoire and flipped to the last entry I made. The morning after I had the dream, I tried to write it down, but the memory was too fleeting. It was gone before I could grasp it. Picking up a pen I sat at the window, thinking through it moment by moment. Cameron sat next to me silently.

“Talk to me,” He pleads with a quiet voice. “What’s on your mind?”

“I need to know how she did it,” I mumbled. “If I know what she did, I’ll know where to look to break it.”

“Okay, so talk me through it.” He placed his hand in mine, adjusting his body to face me. “What did she do first?”

“Uh,” I cleared my throat. “She asked to face her accuser.”

“Evan.” Cameron clarified. “Why?”

“Usually when you cast a spell on someone other than yourself,” I explained. “You use a picture of them or something, to direct your energy to that person.”

He nodded, urging me to continue with his eyes.

“Once she sees him, she cuts her hand on an exposed nail and places the curse.”

“So, what does that tell you?”

What did it tell me? I wish I knew. My knowledge on curses of any kind was anything but vast. My mom probably knew more than I did. I wish she was able to help, but I doubt she was up for it.

“It tells me that I need to go to my mom’s study.” Getting up, I walked downstairs.

Without a second thought, I turned the corner and went inside. I should have thought of this sooner. All the knowledge of generations of witches sitting right here on these shelves. One of these grimoires has to have something that will help.

“What’s in here that you need?” Cameron asked, walking in after me.

“See those books?” I pointed.

“Yeah, what about them?”

“One, if not more of them, has the information I need.”

Standing in front of the shelf, I tried to pinpoint the ones that would be the most helpful. My eyes danced over the spines, hoping one would just fall off the shelf as if to say, ‘pick me’ or ‘I can help you.’ None did, of course. Instead, they sat there taunting me with which to choose as if I had the time to make a mistake. Sighing I just picked the first one my hand gravitated to.

I sent Cameron back to his house when it started getting dark, to avoid him having any more problems with his parents. I, however, spent the entire night going through as many grimoires as I could before I was too tired to read them. When exhaustion came to rear its head, I simply laid on the couch nearby; not bothering to head up to my room. I slept for a few hours before waking up and picking up where I left off.

By the time morning came I had gone through only a handful of grimoires. I texted Cameron, letting him know I wasn’t going to school, and he could go on without me. I didn’t bother seeing if he would respond, didn’t have the time. There were too many books, too little time, and too much at stake. I was opening the 8th one when I heard a knock on the door. Going to the door, I expected to see Cameron standing there like always. So, I didn’t bother looking up from the grimoire in my hands.

“I thought I said you could go to school without me?” I asked.

“Is this the Morgan residence?” the person asked, completely ignoring what I’d said.

The voice that responded was as familiar as the question was. Looking up, I saw the same blond hair and vintage suit that I saw before.

“It is,” I squeaked. “May I know who’s asking?”

“My apologies. My name is Evan.” Just as before he extended his hand towards me.

This time I didn’t take it. I didn’t need to. I knew how his hand would feel in mine; cold, like there was no blood in his veins to keep him warm.

“Evan Mikhale, right?” I swallowed dryly, trying to keep my composure.

He smiled. “That’s correct.” His shoulders relaxed.

“Would you like to come in?” I opened the door wider, allowing him room.

“Thank you.” He entered, eyes flickering all over. “I’m looking for someone, could you help me?”

“Amelia?” I asked, shutting the door. “I could call for her if you’d like?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” He stood there, hands behind his back.

If I didn’t know who he was, I would think he was the politest boy I’d ever met. He was handsome with nothing out of place. I could see why Amelia fell for him, why she trusted him.

“Of course.” Walking to the base of the stairs, I passed him. The air around him was cold. Just like Amelia. “Amelia, you have a visitor.”

How did he have the energy to appear so intensely? What was he drawing from? I walked back to where he stood, watching him from the corner of my eye.

“What are you doing here?”

We both turned at the same time, facing Amelia, who stood at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes lit up at the sight of her and his smile turned from one for manners to one of joy.

“Amelia,” he sighed with happiness. “I’ve been searching for you.”

“What are you doing here, Evan?”

She was angry. Hurt was hidden behind the rage that was all but written on her face. He didn’t answer her. He instead started to step towards her. “Amelia…”

“No!” she stated, raising her hand and sending out a wall of energy that stopped him in his tracks. “Stay where you are.”

“Amelia?” His voice was confused.

“What right do you have to come here?” she spat out. “After what you did?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he pleaded.

I could do nothing but watch the interaction that happened before me, afraid if I said anything I would face the wrath of an angry Evan Mikhale, though this time I wouldn’t have a door to keep him out.

“I’m here to make things right,” he said, eyes begging her to listen. “To apologize.”

“You think a simple apology will right your wrongs?” she scoffed.

“What can I do?”

“What can you do?” she repeated. “I am dead!”

“Do you really place the blame on me?”

“To me, you all but lit the match.”

A look of pain and despair passed over his face. “Amelia.”

“You have overstayed your welcome, Mr. Mikhale,” She stated, face blank. And with a grand gesture she banished him.

I stood there frozen in shock, watching as the both of them vanished before my eyes. Even when I knew they were gone, I was hesitant to move. It wasn’t until I heard another knock at the door that I was able to move. Cautiously I walked to the front door, opening it just slightly to peek at who was there. The relief that washed over me seeing that it was Cameron was welcomed.

“Hey,” I breathed, opening the door further. “What are you doing here?”

“You think I’m gonna let you go through all those books by yourself?” He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, shutting the door behind him. “This isn’t your problem to solve,” I sighed.

“Well then, I’m making it my problem,” he said, grabbing the grimoire from my hand.

Giving me a playful smirk, he walked back to my mom’s study. I shook my head and I followed behind.

“So have you found anything useful?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“Okay, go get some sleep.”

I turned to him, baffled. “Excuse me?”

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he said, turning me around and gently pushing me towards the door. “I’ll wake you up if I find anything.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “Only sleep.”

Honestly, I was exhausted, but I knew that as much as he wanted to help, Cameron had no idea what to look for. I was not about to let him try to find a way to break this curse by himself.

“Do you know what you’re looking for?” I asked, turning a raised eyebrow towards him.

He opened his mouth to say something but immediately closed it.

“That’s what I thought.”

I turned back to the shelf, ready to grab the next grimoire in line only to have one further down come flying off the shelf and land at my feet. Despite my shock, I bent down to pick it up. However, before I could touch it, it flipped open on its own turning to a random page labeled ‘Curse Breaking.’

“You okay?” Cameron asked, coming over to where I was standing.

“Yeah.” I blinked. “I think I found what we needed.”

It almost felt too easy—that the answers lay literally at my feet. But I was taught not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Picking up the grimoire, Cameron started to read over my shoulder.

‘Curses come in many forms, so breaking them does not come easy,’ it read.

Further down the page something caught my eye. ‘The most dangerous use blood as sacrifice.’

‘If blood was willingly given to create the curse, then blood must be willingly given to break it,’ Cameron read aloud.

“Didn’t you say she cut her hand?” he asked. “How much blood do you think we need?”

“I’m not sure…” I scanned the page for the answer. “According to this, the amount needed depends on the strength of both the curse and the witch breaking it.”

“What does that mean?”

“My guess is, the stronger the witch, the less blood they need to use.” I shrugged.

I could feel him tense slightly behind me. “On a scale of one to ten, how strong would you say you are?”

“Maybe a 4?”

“And how strong do you think the curse is?” His voice sounded tight.

“If I’m being honest…” I took a deep breath. “Probably a lot stronger than me.”

Suddenly the grimoire wasn’t in my hands anymore. Cameron closed it and put it on the nearby desk. Running a hand through his hair, he started pacing the room.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What are you talking about?”

“I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me,” He stopped pacing. “Can you do this safely?”

“I can’t say, I don’t know enough about the ritual.”

Even if it was dangerous, how could I risk his life? What would that make me? Picking up the book again, I tried to find the page. Cameron, however had a different plan. Once again, he took the grimoire from me, and directed me to the door.

“You can study it later,” he said. “Right now, you need rest.”

I was too tired to argue and instead just went upstairs to my bed. Cameron stayed downstairs, opting to read about everything instead. I think everything is affecting him more than he’s letting on, maybe he’s trying to find comfort in knowledge. As if simply knowing was enough to fix it, but we both it’s not. If knowing was the answer to our problems I don’t think we’d be in this situation. Nonetheless, here we were. Two days before the eclipse and only one step closer to ending a centuries long punishment.

I didn’t dream, time passed quickly in sleep, as restless as it was. By the time I woke up it was noon. I had no idea if Cameron was still here or not, but did that matter? In the end I got up and went to the kitchen for something quick to eat. Even with the time crunch, I needed energy to do the ritual, meaning that Cameron was right. I needed to take care of myself until then. I didn’t have much to choose from, we haven’t gotten groceries in a while and most of what we had has gone bad by now.

Deciding to play it safe I just made toast. Not bothering with the dishes, I went back to the study. Walking in I found Cameron asleep on the couch, grimoire abandoned on the floor. Probably fell asleep reading. ‘Good,’ I thought. He needed rest too. I picked the forgotten book from the floor and sat at my mom’s desk. Opening to the needed page I began reading more about how to break the curse. I wasn’t sure who this grimoire belonged to originally, but whoever they were studied curses extensively. There was something about every kind of curse you could think of, from simple bad luck to curses of blood. Bloodletting was something I lacked comprehension. When Amelia cut her hand on that nail, she sent her intentions directly into the blood of the Mikhale family.

According to this, blood needed blood. In order to take the curse from the Mikhale bloodline, blood had to be given. Different ways to cleanse it depended on preference mostly. Some preferred water, others preferred fire etc.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” a voice said. Looking up, I was shocked at who stood in the doorway.

“Mom!?” I rushed over to her, enveloping her in a tight bone crushing hug. “Come sit down.”

“What’s got you all worked up?” she asked once sat behind her desk, pushing a stray hair behind my ear.

I shook my head. “It’s too much to explain right now.”

She looked exhausted, like the walk from her room to the study was 50 miles long. But for the first time in weeks, she was looking at me, seeing me. No pillow clutched to her chest, no blank stare. Here she sat like she had before everything. Relief couldn’t encompass all the emotions that I felt.

“What’s Cameron doing here?” she asked, gesturing to him sleeping on the couch.

“He’s here to help,” I explained simply. “Let’s get you to the kitchen, some water to drink.”

She agreed and I helped her stand and walk slowly. She had lost so much weight, carrying her was easy. When she was sitting at the counter with water in her hands, I tried to see if she had any answers about how Evan Mikhale could appear so solidly. But she didn’t know any better than I did. I told her about everything. From the dream to Evan and Amelia fighting.

“Oh honey,” She cooed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”

“You were healing,” I shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t alone. I had Cameron.”

“Remind me to thank that boy when he wakes up.”

“If he makes it past tomorrow, you’ll have plenty of time to thank him,” I mumbled.

“Hey,” She gently scolded. “I will have none of that.”

“What if I’m not strong enough, mom?” I asked. “I won’t have your help with this.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

“I keep trying to tell her that.”

Neither of us heard Cameron walk up, he caught both of us by surprise. He was leaning against the wall, hands casually in his pockets. There wasn’t a tense muscle in his body.

“How are both of you so calm about this?” I scoffed. “How can you relax knowing there is a timer on your life?”

Walking over to me and my mom, he leaned against the counter. “I have nothing to fear.” He stated.

I was baffled beyond belief. “You could die!”

“Sweetie, you won’t let that happen.” Mom tried to comfort me.

I don’t get why they weren’t understanding the severity of the situation. Mom was a much stronger and more experienced witch and if she was in any shape to do so, she could probably solve everything on her own.

“Whatever,” I sighed. “Let’s just find everything we need for the ritual.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me to the car,” Mom said, gesturing to Cameron.

She started to try and stand up, visibly shaking and unsteady. Cameron came over and held her elbow, giving her the chance to lean on him for stability.

“Where do you need to go?” I asked.

She let out a breathy laugh, “The store, I’m assuming we need groceries.”

“I’ll go with you,” I offered.

She just held up her hand as a silent no. I couldn’t tell if she was just putting on a brave face or not, but she had a smile on her face as she walked out the door. There was so much to do in such little time. Hearing the car door shut and the engine start I felt my heart squeeze in worry, shortly after Cameron came back inside.