Page 21 of Wicked Curses
Hurrying toward the building at the end of the road, she climbed its sagging, wooden steps and stopped to read the sign in the window: Barber Shop. For a second, she couldn’t move as she stood and blinked at the sign.
Everything here was such a surreal mix of the familiar and unfamiliar. This realm was broken yet whole in such a strange way. It met all their needs, yet this place lacked the life they were used to.
The squeak of the screen door opening drew her attention as a berserker strolled out. The well-muscled woman grunted at her before descending the stairs in a clatter of boots.
Behind the berserker, a light fae woman emerged onto the porch. She stopped when she spotted Sahira, and a smile lit her pretty face. “Have you come for a cut?”
“No, I was hoping for directions to the library. I’m supposed to work there today, but I forgot to ask where it was,” Sahira replied.
The woman chuckled as she brushed her pale blonde braid over her shoulder. “So, you’re new.”
“Yes.”
“This place throws you off when you first arrive. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever known, yet it’s similar to everything we’ve always known.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!”
“We all think it when we first arrive. And then we adjust to it, and eventually, it becomes”—the woman’s eyes drifted to the road—“home.”
The possibility ofthathappening scared Sahira more than the looming arrival of the scarog beetles. She had a home and loved ones she desperately wanted to see again.
She missed her friends, brother, niece, and her familiar, Shade. She would give anything to hug them again and scratch Shade behind his cute little black ears. He’d purr while tilting his head into her touch and watching from his golden eyes.
He was her fourth familiar; the first, an owl, found her when she was seventy-five. It was a bit late in life but not unheard of for a witch. They never knew when their familiars would find them, but once they did, they remained loyally by their witch’s side until they died.
Familiars lived longer than other animals, but they weren’t immortal. When they died, they reincarnated into another animal and found their witch again soon after. Some witches had to wait years before their familiar originally found them, but their spirits always returned within a day of their body’s death.
She’d had the pleasure of loving an owl, mouse, and fox before Shade arrived at her door—a tiny black ball of fur with golden eyes and a tail already twitching with a cat’s irritation. Sahira smiled as she scooped him up, rubbed her nose against his, and carried him into the manor.
Lexi was barely a month old when Shade arrived, and he’d been with them ever since. He’d chosen his name when he was an owl and conveyed it to her. They couldn’t speak to each other but had their way of communicating.
For a black cat, Shade made sense, but her owl had been a beautiful snow-white color. She believed it amused him to choose such a name, and Sahira wouldn’t argue with him.
Resisting the impulse to rub her chest as it constricted with emotion, she tried not to think about how unhappy Shade would be without her or how she might miss seeing Lexi walk down the aisle to get married.
Before she left, Lexi and Cole were putting off getting married until they learned what had become of Orin, Brokk, and Kaylia. Now, she was on that list, but how long would they wait?
Sahira hoped it wasn’t long. She was determined to get out of this realm, but so many had been here for so long; it could take her weeks or years to figure out how to escape. Lexi deserved happiness, and the realms would be more secure with Cole and Lexi united for all to see.
And there had to be a way. No matter what anyone said or believed, if there was a way in, theremustbe a way out.
But she didn’t want Lexi to keep her life on hold until then.
Sahira swallowed the lump suddenly lodged in her throat as she glanced over the town while trying to ignore the tears pricking her eyes.
“How many immortals are here?” she asked when she felt better able to speak.
It was a question she should have asked Belda, but it hadn’t occurred to her then. The only one better to ask about a town’s residents was the barber. She was sure this fae probably knew everyone and all the gossip.
“The last new arrival, before you, wasthatdarkfae. He brought the count to three hundred and fifty-two.” The light fae’s aqua-blue eyes came back to her. “You make it three hundred and fifty-three.”
The way the woman said “dark fae” made it clear what she thought of them, and Sahira didn’t blame her. They were assholes. She wouldn’t tell the woman she’d been stupid enough to followthatdarkfaeinto this realm.
“So many,” Sahira murmured.
“And soon to be less.”
“So I’ve heard.”
