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Yes, I’d hate hexed Dom first, technically, but this just felt mean. I’d just been trying to prove my point, not hurt him. Unfortunately, my starting a war had backfired. It felt like he was kicking me while I was down.
I called Emmy, still sobbing.
“I’m lost, Em,” I whispered. “I’m lost, and I literally can’t find my way home.”
“Hm,” Emmy said, sounding alarmed but like she was trying hard to not show it. “That’s a new one. I know just the person to fix this.”
AN HOUR LATER, I WAS sitting outside of my grandmother’s cottage in a paranormal retirement community in upstate New York.
Grandma Betty was small, spry, and exceptionally perky for her ninety-eight years of age. Granted she was a witch, so her ninety-eight was not a mortal ninety-eight, but still. Betty was in great shape for her age.
I’d been collected from the side of the road by my Grandma Betty. She’d been so concerned that she’d used unstable pixie dust to poof her way to my side and poof us back to her sweet little cottage. She’d probably been so concerned because I’d been blabbering on and on about not being able to find a trash can in which to throw away my empty cup of coffee.
Crystal Rivers was a slice of heaven, a reprieve away from city life in a small magical community of mostly retired witches and wizards. Up here the air was warmer, the sun brighter, the flowers prettier. Crystal Rivers was all about happiness and comfort.
My grandmother’s cottage was something out of a storybook, a pretty yellow thing with white shutters and bursts of orange poppies sprouting lively little heads this way and that in the breeze. A white fence surrounded her property, and a spacious garden spilled into the backyard where she grew all sorts of herbs and veggies and flowers.
I sat on a rocking chair on the porch, sipping a homemade tea concoction that my grandmother had whipped up from the spoils of her garden. The rocking chair next to me creaked as Grandma Betty joined me with her own cup of tea.
We rocked peacefully for several minutes, letting the balmy air drift across our faces. Already, I felt a lot less lost just by being next to someone who cared about me. My grandma’s place was a small cove of safety in an uncertain world.
“Are you ready to tell me why you were crying over a trash can?” Grandma Betty cracked a smile, but she didn’t quite make eye contact. “Not that I’m complaining, darling, because I’m glad it got you out here for a visit. I’ve missed you.”
“I was cursed.” I raised a hand at my grandmother’s concerned expression. “Not an awful curse, just... an annoying one. It’s a long story. There’s this vampire I’ve sort of been going toe-to-toe with. I can’t figure out if he likes me or hates me, but I definitely hate him. Anyway, I cursed him first, and this was his attempt at getting me back.”
“Ah.”
“The difference is that I was trying to teach him a lesson. I wasn’t trying to ruin his life.”
“You think he’s trying to ruin your life?”
“He’s responsible for kicking me out of Mom’s apartment, and I just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.”
“What sort of medicine?”
“The sort of medicine that would help him to understand what it feels like to live in a crappy apartment instead of the super-rich penthouse.”
“So you hexed his place, and now he’s getting back at you.”
“He did give me warning that he would retaliate. I just hadn’t anticipated he’d do something like this. He must’ve spiked my coffee this morning with some sort of potion that makes me feel lost. Or impossible to find my way. Or follow directions. Whatever.”
“Vampires aren’t known for their potion crafting abilities.”
“No, but this vampire is rich and has endless resources at his fingertips. He has people to do his bidding.”
“Dominic Kent?”
My head swiveled to face Grandma Betty. “How’d you know it was him?”
“He’s rich, he owns your apartment building, and based on the speech I watched you deliver when you were named a candidate for the wildcard seat, you hate his guts for some reason.”
I tapped the side of my mug in agreement.
“I don’t think he meant to ruin your life, sweetie,” Grandma Betty said gently. “I think you’ve got a lot on your plate, and this was the final straw to push you over the edge.”
“Maybe.”
“With you repressing your magic—”
