Cursed: A Book Bite (Book Bites) by H. D. Gordon

Author:H. D. Gordon [Gordon, H. D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-25T22:00:00+00:00

9

7:30 p.m.

This time, I would take the long way around.

And Flora would come with me.

We sit on the train, side by side, watching the city flash by through the windows. Subtle magic surrounds us, making us unworthy of a second glance to anyone nearby, but also not a blatant enough use of magic to piss off the Coven.

We seem to be walking a fine line these days.

So fine, in fact, that Flora had not wanted me to go tonight, and when I’d insisted, she’d demanded she come along.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in what I was doing; it was that she was afraid for me, herself, and the girls.

And I couldn’t blame her. I was afraid, too.

But I’d promised Sasha that I’d come check on her and the baby today, and it’s a good deed I feel compelled to do, since I feel I’m failing in other moral regions.

I watch the buildings go by, the graffiti decorating the stones of the overpasses, the tall corporate skyscrapers with their glass faces, the overlapping highways and aggressive drivers. I have lived in Old City, Philadelphia all my life, over thirty years, and yet some of the immediate surrounding areas are utterly foreign to me. Many are places I dare not visit during certain hours, and others are those I have no business entering at all.

We reach Northeast Philly soon enough. Flora and I hop off the train and head down the boulevard, toward the row home I’d visited less than twenty-four hours ago.

Flora’s eyes flick around and she draws closer to me, no doubt uncomfortable with the fact that we are fully within werewolf territory. We pass by a couple of wolves in their human forms, sitting upon their porch, unrecognizable from humans save for the magical shifter energy that surrounds them. If not for the Goddess’s Blessing I’d received at birth, they would look like nothing more than very large men with dark eyes and rugged faces.

One of the males whistles at us, a wolf cat-calling. We hurry along down the street, and I breathe a sigh of relief as we reach Sasha’s house at last.

Jackie opens the door to the dark brown row home as we are climbing the porch steps, before we can even knock. Werewolves have the sharpest noses and ears. She no doubt heard us coming from down the street.

“Hey Mir,” she says, looking up and down the block over our shoulders. “Come in. Come in.”

She gives us both hugs and kisses, as is wolf custom, though she hardly knows Flora beyond her relation to me.

“Thank you for coming,” Jackie says.

I nod, thinking that I do not deserve her kindness. “Least I can do,” I say.

Jackie flips her long crochet braids over her shoulder and leads us down the hallway toward a room in the back, where Sasha gave birth less than twenty-four hours before to a beautiful baby boy.

As we pass the living room, I catch sight of two wolves I do not recognize. The two enormous males eye me and my sister as we go by.

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