Chapter 23 Tobias

Waiting an entire day after I got the message from Shea was literal torture. Anxiety had so much cortisol coursing through my system that I didn't sleep at all, and having to sit through classes the next day was agony. I spent practically every second of those twenty-four hours watching the clock, any clock, willing time to pass more quickly.

It was worse than watching grass grow, and far more urgent. I needed this curse to be broken so desperately, and I was finally blissfully close to that end.

The instant my final class was over, I couldn't get out of the school fast enough. I didn't even shower after Defense, and I didn't care how badly I smelled or how soaked my clothes were.

At least, not until I met the frigid air outside of the controlled climate of the Dome. Even for a dragon, being damp in the cold was miserable, but it was a worthy price to pay for what I was about to gain—the freedom to be with Arya without fear, the hope of something no one in my family had had in a dozen generations.

Happily ever after.

With shivering fingers, I hastily opened the door of the Uber that was waiting for me outside the subway entrance and hopped in, just about slamming the back passenger door closed.

"A little cold back there?" the driver asked, eyeing me through the rearview mirror. Even though I could only see his eyes, the wrinkles around them suggested he was middle-aged. He probably thought I was insane for not wearing a coat.

"Yes, please crank up the heat," I requested, ignoring the raised eyebrow over my not-for-winter attire.

The drive to the address Shea had given me was the longest wait of all. I grew skeptical as the driver took me out of city limits and onto a mostly rural highway.

What if this was some kind of set up? What if the witch had decided to end me instead of help me? I had been nothing but hostile toward her since the day we met. She had no reason to show me favor outside of my relationship with Arya, which I also hadn't shown in the best light. What if she thought the best solution was to remove me from her best friend's life?

No, I was being paranoid. If Shea was that cruel, then she simply would've refused to help me from the start and leave me to the damnation of my family's curse. There was no more hellish fate than living with the knowledge that the person you love hates you—especially if you're imprinted to them.

I had no choice but to trust that the witch was on my side, even if I didn't deserve it.

When we pulled up to the small townhome more than an hour later, I blinked a few times.

"Is this it?" I asked.

"It's the address you gave me, man," the driver said.

I double-checked Shea's message and agreed that the address was correct. I stepped out and onto the curb, took a deep breath, and then strode up to the door.

When I saw the name on the mailbox, I did a double-take. Le Fey . It sounded familiar. Had Arya ever mentioned Shea's last name? I brushed it off as unimportant.

When I lifted a hand to knock, my heart began to pound, and my arm froze in mid-air.

This could be it.

This could be the last moment I would ever worry about allowing myself to fall in love. And this wasn't just about me.

Tamara could have a happy marriage with a husband who loved her. Dozens of aunts and uncles, cousins twice and three times removed could love their spouses, their boyfriends and girlfriends, and be loved in return. This could be the last moment of pain my mother ever went through being married to a man who didn't love her.

Well...realistically, I couldn't expect my father to return the feelings overnight. But after this moment, there might be hope that he could, someday. Or, Mom could do something unheard of for Draculs and leave Arthur for someone she truly deserved.

After this moment, I could allow myself to fall completely for Arya, and she might love me back.

I knocked.

Wavy brown hair swung the door open and met me with a smile.

"You look like you're gonna throw up," Shea said, leaning against the door. "You okay?"

I frowned, attempting to mask my face but knowing I failed. "Fine. I'm fine."

"‘Cause we can do this another day..."

"No!" I snapped with panic. "Now. Please, now."

But she didn't ruffle at my outburst. Instead, she looked at me with pity. "The good news is, I'll probably feel about as green as you look in about five minutes."

She stepped aside for me to walk in and waved him into a room just off the entrance that felt almost like a closet. I filled the whole of it, yet somehow, two other women, plus Shea, also fit. I was too nervous and distracted by my racing pulse to notice details, but the entire room had a buzzing, chaotic feeling. Or maybe that was just me.

I met one pair of hazel eyes, then another. The women were clearly relatives of Shea—wavy brown hair with varying levels of gray—probably her mother and grandmother, though the younger of the two didn't quite look that close.

"Tobias, this is my Aunt Janette," Shea said, indicating toward the younger woman.

Instinctively, I held a hand out to Janette, who took it with a gentle grasp as her eyes roamed up and down my body with appreciation. Yep, definitely not Shea's mom.

"Tobias Dracul," I offered.

Janette gave me a girlish smile. "I don't think I've ever met an actual dragon before. Can I see you shift later?"

"Janette," the older woman hissed scoldingly, mercifully rescuing me from having to answer.

Shea stifled a laugh behind sucked-in lips before introducing her. "And my grandmother, Marjorie."

I did the same with Marjorie, nodding at them both.

"Aunt Janette, Gram, this is Tobias, Arya's boyfriend." Shea gave an awkward smile and held out her hands like I was some sort of display.

I stepped back, clasping my hands behind me, unsure what to do next. I didn't know if it was common for Shea's family to vet guys who wanted to hang out with her or if they were aware of my situation and reason for being here. Either way, the way everyone stood looking at one another felt awkward.

Shea reached behind her on the desk for an ancient-looking, large bound book. It made my stomach leap into my throat, and beads of perspiration gathered on my forehead. Shea stared at the book for several seconds as if gathering her thoughts.

"So...I found the spells," she said, still not glancing up. "The curse and the counter-curse . Sorry it took so long, but the grimoire only started cooperating yesterday."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "It was in your family grimoire?"

It seemed pretty incredible and almost too easy that the exact spell we needed just happened to be in the spell book of the first witch I'd sought out. I felt my skepticism rise again but shoved it down.

I needed this. My family needed this. My mom needed this.

Shea nodded, still not looking at me. "The spell requires the magic of at least three witches." She finally lifted her eyes to meet mine. "So Aunt Janette and Gram have agreed to help."

So, that's why they're here.

Janette beamed with enthusiasm, but Marjorie merely smiled as if we were about to do something mundane, like making a sandwich.

They weren't here to make sure I acted like a gentleman and treated their niece and granddaughter with respect. They were here to add their own powers and strengthen the spell.

I swallowed as the gravity of the situation fell on me. "Is three enough?"

It was only natural and logical that it would take several to break the curse. I remembered reading that several of the witch sisters placed it. I wasn't sure of the exact number, but I thought it had to be more than three.

The women looked amongst themselves. Shea shrugged.

"It should work," she said, then opened the book to a marked page and handed it to Marjorie, who propped it on a yellow music stand she'd retrieved from the corner. The old book looked ridiculous on its practically neon perch.

Janette pulled a small black pocket knife from her back pocket and handed it to Shea, who thanked her with a grimace.

Blood. It must need blood.

Without thinking or being asked, I offered my hand.

Marjorie cupped my palm with her own beneath and looked expectantly at Shea.

Shea's face contorted again—she'd been right, she did look a little green now—and she flipped open the knife and held it over her own hand.

I attempted to withdraw my hand upon realizing it wasn't my blood that was needed, but Marjorie held it firm and motioned for Janette to also place her hand beneath.

Shea squeezed her eyes tightly for a moment as if bracing herself. It didn't seem like a good way to draw blood. I would hate for her to accidentally hit an artery and bleed out on the rug—curse or no curse, my chances with Arya would plummet indefinitely.

When she opened her eyes again, her face was stoic and determined. She placed the edge of the blade firmly on the tip of her finger until a deep red bead appeared. She then handed the knife to Janette.

Shea smeared the blood on my palm, drawing a circle as she recited words in a strange, ancient-sounding language. "Pa-eem hetem en ib."

Janette took the knife and cut her finger, then did the same over Shea's blood. "Pa-eem hetem en ib."

Marjorie took the knife for her turn.

"Heru meri ee em hotep, " Shea, Janette, and Marjorie said simultaneously, re-tracing the circle. "Kem neheh," the three said almost together, then drew a line through the circle, Shea shuddering. "Kem neheh."

Falling into a chant, the Le Fey witches repeated the spell, retracing their mixed gore on my palm over and over.

A warm sensation bloomed on my skin there, which could have been the blood, but when the heat sunk down into the bones of my hand, I knew it was more than that. Taking stock of my own fire, I realized it was low on reserve, dormant inside and nowhere near my hands.

The warmth spread down my arm and through my bloodstream, taking the same route my fire traveled, but it was a different sort of heat. Not exactly the same physical heat I was accustomed to, but more of an ethereal or spiritual light coursing through me.

Once it reached my heart, it spread everywhere like an explosion. Down my legs, across my shoulders, up the back of my neck, making my scalp tingle. I even saw red and purple flashes dance in front of my eyes, which continued even when I shut them. The feeling raced around, seemingly erratic and almost frantic. It was a little overwhelming, so I kept my eyes closed.

Then suddenly, the sensation vanished.

When I opened my eyes, Shea and her family continued to whisper the words of the spell, their eyes shut in meditation. I involuntarily twitched my hand, and Shea opened her eyes and ended the chant.

I lifted my hand from theirs. The blood they had smeared was gone, vanished as surely as the strange warm light.

Shea raced from the room, a hand over her mouth.

I looked to Marjorie. "Is she alright?"

"Just give her a minute," she answered.

My eyes glued to my hand while we waited. I looked for any trace of the blood or any difference. Would I be able to see if the curse had really been lifted?

"So?" Shea asked when she returned. "Do you feel like a real boy yet?"

I lifted my gaze from my unmarked palm to her. "I don't—"

"Shea," Marjorie chided with a side glance to her. "And I doubt his ancestor felt much after the curse was placed on him or her. It wasn't until they fell in love that they truly knew. Unless they weren't aware a curse was placed on them."

"Claudette," I said. "Her name was Claudette Dracul. And she knew. Maybe not right away, but every Dracul knows."

"So go find out if it worked," Marjorie said in a sagely tone.

Just the thought made me a little sick.

"Let yourself fall in love with our sweet Arya," she continued. "Then you'll know."

I looked to Shea as if she'd know how to respond, but she merely shrugged and gave me a half-smile.

I thanked Marjorie and Janette, and then Shea walked me to the door.

"Well, that was crazy. But nothing strange is falling off, so it must've worked."

I understood she was trying to inject some levity, but her words alone didn't inspire confidence.

"I hope so," I said, then lowered my head in a half-nod. "Thank you. Truly."

Shea waved a hand. "Whatever." She opened the front door, letting in the cold air. "But just so you know, if you break her, I'll break you."

I went a little cross-eyed looking at the newly bandaged finger pointed straight at my nose.

"And you know I can," she said with a smirk.

A deep sense of humility settled over me, something I wasn't used to experiencing. Shea really cared about Arya, and she had helped me despite her dislike for me, despite the way I'd treated her. Clearly, not all witches were bad, the same way not all mers were intolerable elitists, and I was somehow lucky enough to be acquainted with the exceptions.

I offered Shea a sincere smile. "I will spend every day of my life striving to treat her the way she deserves to be treated."

"Good," she said with a firm nod.

"And Shea, I'm sorry for my previous animosity toward you," I said. "Old prejudices are hard to see through sometimes."

She nodded sardonically, and I got the sense she'd been discriminated against by more than just me. "Don't I know it."

"If you ever need anything, I owe you a debt," I said. "Maybe I could use my father's leverage to get you enrolled in the Dome. Wasn't that what you wanted before?"

Surprise made her eyebrows flicker upward for a moment as she looked at me. Then she looked over her shoulder. "You know, I don't think I need the Dome, after all."

When she turned back to face me, she was wearing a contented smile, one that said she had found her place. "Let me know how it goes."

I held back the smile until she shut the door behind me, leaving me on the porch.

The smile got wider. It worked. I somehow felt different.

Hopeful.

Like I could have a happy ending.

Like my mother could have a happy ending.

For the first time in my life, I let myself dream of a future that wasn't dedicated to military life to avoid the cold glances at the dinner table. Or seeing a face identical to my mother's and unable to do anything about it because the person I loved was not the person I shared a life with.

I glanced back at the house as I waited on the curb for my next Uber. Reading the name that was so familiar— Le Fey —I racked my brain, trying to remember where I'd seen it.

Like a cold blast of high-altitude air, my brain found the connection.

Le Fey was the name of the woman who mysteriously died at the boarding house. Alice Le Fey. It was Alice's sisters, the Le Fey witches, who traveled all the way to Washington in order to curse Claudette Dracul.

Shock radiated through my entire being. Shea was related to the witches who'd cursed my family. No wonder her family grimoire held the countercurse.

But I couldn't feel enmity toward the witches I'd just left. How could I? They just gave me a gift I thought I'd never have and denied myself from wanting for so long.

The realization filled me with even more confidence that the spell had worked. If Le Fey's placed the curse on my family, who better to break it?

I was half-tempted to fly home because I couldn't wait to get back to Arya, but the Uber finally pulled up. I practically sprinted into the car, my every nerve sizzling with anticipation.