“Brenda’s book. So that’s where it was! You sneaked it out of my library, didn’t you?”
Shanna blushed. “I wanted to see if there was something in it that could help me fix the mistakes of the first ritual, since we gotthatone from it.”
“Hmm.” Dolores stood and weighed the book. “I don’t think the process to break Hel’s bond is in this one, but I’ll find the answer somewhere. In the meantime, why don’t you two get comfortable?” As Simon opened his mouth, she quickly added, “I won’t have the answers until tomorrow.”
“Come,” Shanna said. “I can show you a spare room.”
***
Night had fallen, and after ensuring Jinx was content with his choice of sleeping quarters for the evening—he went with Gran’s bed—Shanna slipped out to her favorite spot: a small balcony on the narrow third floor, tucked under the house’s gabled roof.
But before she could take in the view of the darkened, forested slopes, something shifted in the corner.
“Evening,” Simon said.
Shanna twitched. “Sorry. I didn’t see you here.”
“You can assume I’ll always be within a hundred feet of you.”
She chuckled. “True.”
“I was breathing,” he said.
“That’s a good thing to do.”
“I mean …” He stepped forward and leaned on the balcony’s railing. “It’s strange, but since I came back, I appreciate it much more. Especially where the air is nice, like this. Cool, but not cold, and the smell of pines …” He shook his head. “I’m rambling.”
She didn’t mind it. She didn’t mind him being like this, either—more easygoing, conversational. But it didn’t change the fact that it was all still pointless. “I’ll go.”
“By all means, stay. It’s your house.” He shuffled a step away, to the farthest side of the balcony. Shanna moved to the other, drumming her fingers on the wood.
An owl hooted in the forest.
She made a popping sound with her lips.
“You want to know what the curse is, don’t you?” she said.
“I—well—I know it’s not relevant.” He posed it almost as a question.
“Itisrelevant. It just doesn’t matter anymore.” Leaning on the railing with one hand, she turned to him. “My distant ancestor, Caitriona, was a heart healer. She put spells on people to make their heartaches go away. With their permission, of course.”
Simon nodded for her to continue.
“One day, a man from a wealthy family came to her. He was in love with a poor woman, and because of the differences in their social statuses, they could never be together. The man begged Caitriona to help him forget his love—his pain—and she did. He didn’t know that the woman was expecting his child.”
Shanna swallowed, closing her eyes. She’d heard the legend so many times—Gran sometimes used Caitriona’s name in place of curse words—but it still gripped her.
“Caitriona wasn’t aware the poor woman she’d made him forget was also a witch,” she continued. “She knew Caitriona’s actions caused her to become abandoned, lost—her, and her poor baby who’d have to grow up without a father.”
Simon leaned forward. “Did she reverse the spell?”
“No. Perhaps she couldn’t. Instead, she cursed Caitriona with a spell of her own. ‘If I’m to be forgotten,’ she said, ‘then so will you.’ And she made it so that everyone Caitriona loved would forget her in time.” Shanna tilted her head. “Don’t know if it was fine print or an unintended side effect of the spell, but it didn’t apply only to Caitriona’s loved ones, and not even only to Caitriona. She’d cursed our entire family line so that everyone we meet eventually forgets us.”
Simon scrunched his nose. “But that’s …”
“That’s the night in Las Vegas.”
“You’re saying I forgot you because of a curse?” He faced away, ruffled his hair, and turned back. “That’s silly.”
