Page 78 of How to Flirt with a Witch

Her confession lingers over us. A hunch drifts into my awareness like fog rolling in.

“Has someone you care about been hurt before?” I venture, my voice barely above a whisper.

She doesn’t answer right away. She shuts off the car, stares ahead, and speaks without meeting my eye. “My mom was a Guardian too. She was killed by a curse.”

Chapter 19

A “Career” in “Psychology”

Acold wave ofrealization crashes over me. This is why Natalie is afraid to expose me to curses. Her own mother was a victim of one.

From the recesses of my memory, her concerned voice drifts forward. “Can you breathe okay?”

I had no idea how bad the truth was.

We get out of the car, my limbs moving automatically.

“How old were you?” I ask through numb lips.

“Seventeen.” Natalie guides me toward the steam clock with a firm hand on my lower back, keeping me half a step in front of her. We sink through the ground, and I’m ready for the sensation this time, exhaling through the nauseating dizziness.

As we walk down the ivy-lined hallway, she continues. “She was on an assignment in the suburbs. We caught wind of a curse—a musician who asphyxiated. He’d bought a second-hand guitar and was holding it when they found his body.”

She drops her hand from my back and falls quiet as we cross the lounge, where several people are having lunch. Thankfully, Fiona isn’t there to ask how her mission went at the library.

Walking toward my room, Natalie continues in undertones. “My mom went to get the guitar, and Sophia Madsen showed up.” She spits the name, her hatred simmering. “Mom fought her off. She was always incredible with magic. But Sophia’s just… so twisted.”

My heart breaks into more pieces with each word.

We arrive at my suite, and I let us in and close the door softly. Ethel meows in greeting from my pillow, flashing her claws as she stretches. I distantly register the made bed—the cleaner, Elizabeth, must have come while I was out.

“She caught Mom with a bear trap and took her vials.” Natalie crosses her arms, and her scowl deepens, like she’s walled her grief behind anger. “Left her with a mangled leg and a cursed guitar with no way to neutralize it. She called my dad in a panic, tried to get someone to meet her halfway, but the curse was already working against her. Traffic accidents, a storm, a power outage…”

A shiver rolls through me as she lists the curse’s familiar effects. My stomach roils, and I sink onto the bed.

She sits beside me, her eyes narrowed as the dark memory spills out. “She started to asphyxiate while she was still on the phone with my dad. He didn’t find her body until the next day, an hour from home.”

Sympathy wells up as I imagine the panic they must have felt. My voice quakes. “Natalie… I’m so sorry.”

She gives me a tight-lipped attempt at a smile, her brave face so fragile that my eyes prickle. I take her hand—soft, smooth, and warm. She doesn’t pull away.

“How’s your family doing?” I ask. “Your dad and Sky?”

She studies our entwined hands with her brow pinched. “We’re coping in our own ways. Sky’s hellbent on avenging her. I feel sorry forany Madsen she catches. My dad is… running from it, I guess. He’s never home, always keeping busy as if he hopes to distract himself from reality.”

“And you?”

“I’m…” She lifts a shoulder.

It’s obvious. She’s afraid of losing someone she cares about, so she’s not letting herself care about anyone.

“Do you worry about Sky?” I ask.

“All the time. Even now, I keep waiting to hear from her. I didn’t want to send her after the Madsens, but I learned long ago that I can’t stop her from doing her job. She’ll be okay.”

Seething hatred for the Madsens simmers inside me, intensifying with each piece of information I learn about them. “How do they know to show up wherever there are curses?”

“That’s what we’ve been asking ourselves. Lately, the Madsens have been getting a lot of the same news as we do about potential curse locations.”