Stellan loudly clears his throat and raises one dark brow. He cocks his head at his sister. “And…”
“And make a wish,” Ava says with an exasperated sound.
“No,” I moan distractedly while searching for my phone. When I can’t find it, I do a quick spell that makes a chime sound from beneath the couch pillows. I throw the phone in my clutch, along with some lipstick and gum. “That is a childish tale, just like witches having fated bonds. It's not even worth the twenty-five cents we’d lose.”
“JoJo. You’re doing it. I’m doing it. Ava’s doing it. Piper’s doing it.” Stellan straightens his tie and runs his hand over his beard. The shithead doesn’t look like he was just sleeping.
Ava’s drunk ass nearly falls over as she checks her lipstick in the giant mirror one last time before we leave. “We’re doing it, Jo, because we all need something to hope for. I don’t know if wishes ever come true. Mine never seem to, but I’m not ready to give up asking the universe to help me out for once in my life.”
We need to get to the parties. But I suppose five minutes out of the way isn’t going to make much of a difference.
4
JOSEPHINE
It’s cold enough out that I should have on a heavy coat instead of this flimsy wrap, but I’ve had enough booze to trick my body into feeling warm. The four of us leave my apartment building in a cloud of noise. Stellan arranged for a limo to cart us around tonight. No one stays sober enough to drive for the founders parties, and walking would be impossible. The distance, plus cold temperatures, along with heels, would make that a nightmare.
The Briar Hollows River is just starting to freeze over. Every time I pass the bridge, I think about the Briar Witch and the story of the stolen heirloom.
Legend has it that once upon a time, there was a very powerful magical heirloom that the most influential magical families in Mystic Hollows coveted. The families fought to possess and control it. People were hurt, homes destroyed, and eventually someone died. A young witch stole the heirloom and threw it into the river. Both covens believed it was the other’s fault and they cursed each other. A curse that was laid on the same powerful magical families in the town.
All firstborn children would suffer a family curse. To bind the magic, they threw the young witch who stole the object into the river, sacrificing her to seal the spell in blood. No one knows what the heirloom was, nor the name of the young witch who stole it. They simply called her the Briar Witch, which is how the river came to be named. Ironically, no one has discovered what this all-powerful heirloom was.
The story is still told to all children of the covens. When I was young, my mother would tell me this and other morbid tales as bedtime stories. Except she never understood the real moral of that tale. She didn’t see it as a sign that the two sides should set aside their differences and end their feud. Her takeaway was that the more powerful the sacrifice, the stronger the curse. Or the more magic a family possesses, the more powerful they are. Those were the insights Francesca Delvaux wanted me to get from that story.
Over the course of several hundred years, it became a superstition to toss a coin into the river whenever stepping foot on the bridge. Sometimes, it’s just paying a price to the drowned witch. Other times, it’s to make a wish. I’ve made thousands of wishes off that damn bridge, and not a single one has come true.
The narrowest part of the river cuts straight through Main Street. The bridge marks the center point of Mystic Hollows. This particular bridge is only for pedestrians. There are others made for cars and trucks farther downriver. There’s a steady flow of people walking through downtown tonight. Some just coming from dinner at one of the town’s restaurants. Others hoping to gain entry into one of the founders parties.
Our car pulls up at the foot of the bridge. The driver doesn’t even turn off the engine as the four of us exit the car and head toward the river. The bridge is made of iron with small holes on the walkway, making it impossible to traverse in heels. I take off my shoes, holding them in my hand as we walk to the center ofthe bridge. The cold bite of metal against my bare feet makes me hiss. A gust of wind whips my hair, and goosebumps break out over my skin.
From here, I spot the glowing lights of Woodroot’s Apothecary, which is perched on a tiny island in the middle of the river. Morty, the owner, is one of the only witches in town who never attends the founders parties. Lucky bastard.
“I know you ladies are all poor as fuck, so…” Stellan pulls four quarters out of his pocket. He places one in Ava’s palm and another in Piper’s. He holds my coin out by his fingertips so I can grab it without touching him.
“You’re just as broke as the rest of us. You borrowed money for toilet paper last week.” Ava starts laughing at her brother and then can’t stop.
“I forgot my wallet. I have enough money to buy toilet paper.”
“That’s good.” Still laughing, she gasps her words through choked breaths. “Because you are so full of shit.”
“All right, chuckles.” Stellan drops an arm around Ava’s shoulder, and she sags into her brother. Ava may be three minutes older, but Stellan is fiercely protective of her. I know he’d take her curse from her if he could. Not that she would let him.
Tears well up in my eyes at the simple gesture. People don’t realize how much they take touch for granted. There’s so much comfort in a hug. Or a friend nudging your shoulder. The boy you like brushing his hand against yours. I can’t have any of that without feeling terrible pain. Because of a curse that’s centuries old. I don’t deserve this. None of us deserve the curses we’re saddled with.
A handsome face pops into my head, and I close my eyes to shake it away. Roman Blackthorn with his arm on the wall above me, caging me in with his body. Those gray eyes staring down atme. He looked like he wanted to flay me alive. Except, there was something else between us, a tiny spark I glimpsed in his eyes. Almost as though he wanted to kiss me until I was begging for more.
I shake away the thoughts. I’m sure I imagined that. Besides, I don’t get to experience that. I only get pain. Roman’s the firstborn in his family, too. I wonder what his curse is.
“Let’s do this. It’s fucking cold out,” Ava hisses, her teeth chattering.
Stellan and Ava move to the right side of the bridge and lean against the railing. Piper and I stand on the left side with enough space between us that there’s no risk of an accidental brush of skin. I shiver, already regretting skipping the coat.
“Do you know what you’re wishing for?” Piper asks, her voice so quiet I almost don’t hear her over the rush of the water below us. The river hasn’t frozen completely yet, but sheets of ice stretch out from the banks. I turn to look at her. My friend is so beautiful, but she doesn’t see it. There’s a haunted look in Piper’s eyes that never goes away.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
Piper stares out at the water. On either side of the bridge, the lights of the city twinkle. Faint music from bars and the faraway chatter of people walking down the street hum in the background.
