The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(82)

“Sadie,” Seth said, gripping her hands tighter as his palms frosted over. “What. The. Fuck,” he gasped as the cold stole his breath.

She looked around but couldn’t see the form. Could only feel its presence. It didn’t want them here. Didn’t want them doing this. It tried to linger—she could feel it pressing against the circle of salt. But it held. And after a few shaky breaths, the cold receded.

When she tried to light the candle again, her fingers shook so hard she dropped the lighter. Seth swiped it up before she could.

“Have you lost it? We’re leaving. Up,” he commanded, tugging at her arm.

“No, I just need to try again.” Her voice sounded desperate, even to her own ears, but she still pushed him away and tried to grab the lighter out of his hand.

“Jesus, Sade.” He reached down and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder like she was a sack of flour, and stamped the pine needles out with his foot before marching out of the forest.

“Put me down!” She pummeled his back until he finally stopped at the edge of the garden.

“Is that supposed to happen?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re talking about, you caveman!”

He lowered her to the ground with more care than she expected, and she was about to thank him when she smelled the ash and her heart sank. A patch of sweet peas that Jake had so painstakingly tied back up and coaxed back to life had shriveled up. She ran trembling fingers along the curled leaves and shuddered as they crumbled to the ground as dust.

“There’s a reason you’re not supposed to do that kind of magic,” he said. “Where did you get that damn spell? Gigi never would have used something like that.”

“Calliope,” Sadie coughed as the scent of ash stuck in her throat.

“Fucking Calliope Madizza. I should have known. That girl has got a death wish.”

“I needed to talk to Gigi,” she said, her voice breaking.

“You have me,” he said tightly. “I know it’s not the same. But we’re in this together.” And when he hugged her, she sank into it. “Now, you mind telling me what the hell that was in the forest?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “A spirit?”

“No shit, Sherlock. You’ve seen it before? Felt it?”

She nodded.

“Great. Well, I’ll tell you what. You try and stop summoning malevolent spirits, and I’ll try and stay alive long enough to stop you from making stupid decisions.”

“Seth?” she said as they walked back to the house with his arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad you’re letting me back in.”




On Thursday morning, the day of Gigi’s memorial dawned bright and cold. There were sixteen days left until the full moon, and they were no closer to an answer. Sadie had consulted Lavender and Lace, who had no advice but offered to help in any way they could. Seth had reached out to the Tovah family, who had their own unique brand of magic when it came to elixirs, and the Delvauxs, who were partial to spells. He refused to speak with Calliope, but at any rate, none of them had ever seen a curse quite like theirs.

“Just set it aside for today, okay?” Seth had said before he left to pick up Gigi’s ashes. “Look at me, Sadie.” She did. “I’m trying to be cool, calm, and collected here, but this is scaring the shit out of me too, okay? But I need you here for this.” He gestured around them. “Today is for Gigi. Her memorial. Family dinner. Whatever the hell you want to call it. We’re going to do this, and we’re going to do it together. When you feel like breaking, just look at me.”

“And then what?”

“You’ll just know. The way we always do, okay? Twin shit. You’ll look at me, and you’ll know I’m breaking too, and that you’re not in this alone.”

Sadie nodded through her tears and, absurd as it was, agreed to ignore the countdown on his life just for the night.

After that, Seth left with Florence to pick up the ashes while Anne and Sage cleaned. Anne tried to tell the girl she didn’t have to help, but there was an eagerness in the child’s eyes that was hard to deny. As though cleaning a home was so foreign it became fun.

Ever since the river had flooded—no, ever since the grandfather clock had chimed its warning—things had gone wrong. And it felt like nothing would ever be right again. But then the doorbell rang, and little pieces of Sadie’s heart began to stitch back together.

“Uncle Steven,” Sadie half shouted, throwing her arms around his six-foot-tall frame.

“Hi, sweetie,” he said, a smile in his voice, but there were tears in his eyes. Behind him, the porch was a sea of cousins. Anne and Steven’s three kids were there, and they had their own children with them: Liam and Lina who were almost teenagers, and Marie who was just a little strawberry-haired thing. There was Kay’s daughter, tall and ethereally beautiful, with soulless jet-black hair and vegan-leather platform boots, holding the hand of her son, who had to be around Sage’s age.

Hugs were passed around and the doorframe seemed to expand, wanting to let everyone in at once. The grandfather clock gonged, wanting in on the commotion, and the door had barely closed when someone honked a horn. More cousins filed in as everyone shared tears, and “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown” was a constant refrain.