Love Cursed, page 13
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I would give up my sight if it meant you could have your magic back.”
“I wouldn’t.” She cupped his cheek, making him meet her gaze. “Why do I need it? I have my work. I have you. And now I also have a son.” She reached out her free hand to Tamuel. He took her hand in his, holding it to his chest. She smiled up at him then back at Bastien. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ve ever wished for.” She looked back at her hand wrapped in Tamuel’s. “And I can touch you without worrying how it will affect me. That is magic enough.”
“So wise,” Tamuel said, then shimmered, his suave older man form changing into that of a young man, with twinkling eyes that flashed to peridot for a moment before settling to a beautiful indigo, and hair as darkly auburn and curling as hers. He squeezed her hand, his smile blazing brightly enough to light the night. “You may not be the mother that birthed me, but you’re the mother of my heart.”
“My son. Tell him I love him.”
She did just that, brushing away the tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes.
Bastien put his hand on Tamuel’s shoulder. “Son. Why did you never tell me who you were?”
“It was forbidden. To keep me from being swept into Clodia’s curse, Eros took me from the pentacle in the confusion after Clodia’s spell went awry. He wanted to take you too, but you were bound in ways I wasn’t. So, he hid me and gave me to Persephone until it was time for me to become one of his cupids. She told me of you and what had happened and helped me look for ways to break the curse’s hold on you both. She followed Esta, thinking she was a key and rescued her journal from the house fire all those years ago, but she didn’t give it to me until just recently when it became clear that now was the time to use it. That you,” he turned his gaze to Jules, “were the one who could break the spell.”
“So in a way, my father did help me.”
“I suppose he did given he gave me to the one Goddess who might help. I’m so sorry though.”
“For what?”
“That it took so long to be able to help you. Until a century ago, I was forbidden to contact you.”
Bastien cupped Tamuel’s cheek. “That is not your fault, son. The Gods and Goddesses do things for their own purposes. You were bound as much as Jules and I.”
“But I almost blew it tonight. Persephone mentioned that Clodia’s spirit might still be hanging around the place of her greatest defeat, but I didn’t remember the warning until it was too late. I let her take the HeartsBlood Gem from me because I was too prideful, too stupid.”
“No. You trusted,” Jules said. “Don’t ever feel sorry for that.”
“Mother,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I am sorry. So sorry the ultimate sacrifice was your magic.”
Jules touched his cheek. “I’m just glad the sacrifice wasn’t this.” She cupped his cheek with one hand, Bastien’s with the other. “Clodia thought my magic the most valuable thing, but it wasn’t. This is. So don’t be sad. Not when we’ve finally found each other.”
A moan from the other side of the cleared area had her pushing to her feet. “Oh Goddess! Grandmama,” Jules cried, rushing over to where Violetta had fallen. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten her grandmama was still there.
Violetta looked up at her, her eyes shadowed as Jules reached her. “You did it, my girl.”
“I did.”
“Your magic?”
“Gone. I had to use it all to defeat Clodia and close the rip into the Void.”
Violetta sighed and nodded. “I am sorry.”
“I’m not.”
Violetta nodded, her gaze skating over Jules’s smile. “Bastien and Tomaso – I mean, Tamuel?”
“Here,” they both said, then helped her up.
She trembled, her form thinner than it had been before – Clodia had pulled a lot out of her in the possession and final spell. She pulled the HeartsBlood Gem from around her neck. “Here, this is yours.” She held it out to Jules.
“No, I—”
“As a reminder of the strength you showed tonight and of what truly matters.”
Jules took the gem and hung it around her neck. It pulsed warmly there, feeling like it belonged. “Let’s go home.”
“Let me,” Bastien said. “I haven’t been able to use my powers for 2000 years.” He waved his hand. The air shimmered around them and then they were in the villa’s kitchen.
Jules held still, waiting for the nausea and pain, but it didn’t come.
She was finally free.
She hugged Bastien to her as Tamuel helped Violetta to a seat, put the kettle on and began to raid the fridge.
Bastien hugged her back, his smile warming her like the sun. “Jules. You know I will never leave you. You have no need to doubt that.”
“I know. I understand now. You’re my love. Forever.”
“Forever together, my love.” His lips met hers and everything faded as she lost herself in Bastien’s touch, in his kiss, and it was better than anything she could ever have wished. Love cursed no more. She was love blessed.
In the distance, church bells tolled one am. Tamuel glanced over at his mother and father, then, mouth quirking in happiness, put a plate of meat, cheese and bread in front of Violetta. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” he said.
“Yes.” She glanced over at Jules and Bastien, lost to everything else in the joy of their kiss. “It seems fitting.”
“I’m going to find some way to get her power back to her.”
Violetta’s smile grew wide as she picked up a piece of cheese. “That would be nice. Although, I don’t think she needs it to make her happy. Not now she finally knows the man of her dreams.”
“The man of her reality,” Tamuel countered.
Violetta winked at him. “May we all be blessed with such a reality.”
Tamuel nodded but didn’t say anything further.
Nobody could know he planned to bargain anything – even his greatest power – for his mother’s magic. The power of a cupid. It was one of the most sought-after powers among the Gods because what was stronger than love? Look at what it had done here tonight.
Jules deserved to be the witch she was born to be. Not just to have magic, but to have true immortality. His mother and father deserved to be together forever.
And he was the cupid who was going to make it happen. He vowed it.
A rumble in the distance signalled the Eternal Well had accepted his vow.
He smiled.
THE END … OR IS IT?
If you enjoyed Jules and Bastien’s story, then continue the adventure with Tamuel and Korinna’s story in Soul Cursed: Gods Cursed Series Book 2.
Read on for a sneak peek at Chapter 1 of Soul Cursed:
Soul Cursed
GODS CURSED SERIES BOOK 2
Tamuel’s Curse
“You cannot kill this child, witch, for he belongs to me. Of my flesh, I am the only one with the authority to take his life. But as you point out, the Gods’ laws dictate that the son will pay for the hubris of the father. I will curse this child’s soul, not for your purposes, Clodia, but for mine!
Hear me this day: I bind this child to my service, to be bound more tightly than any other cupid by his cupid powers. He will find love for others in his service, but is never to seek it for himself. Only the cracked piece of his soul’s mirror, cursed both equal and opposite, will make him whole and set him free.”
Eros to Vestal Priestess-Witch Clodia: as etched into the holy Keeper of the Curses, Revenant of the Eternal Well.
Chapter
One
Tamuel stumbled on the smooth black floor as the portal closed with a little whoosh behind him. He quickly steadied himself, blinked then glanced down at the chronometer on his wrist. The ancient clockwork dial glowed as it whirred silently. Not too bad. The time difference between the Underworld and the Earthly Realm hadn’t shrunk too much as the veil thinned for All Hallows’ Eve. He took a breath – time to get on with his quest. It wouldn’t do to get caught here.
He looked around, orienting himself. This wasn’t quite what he expected the tunnels of the Underworld to look like, but then again, what would he know? It wasn’t like there were tourist brochures. Perhaps there should be though. The veins of red, purple and green that ran chaotically along the glossy black rock walls, lighting the space, were quite pretty.
But why was it so warm? He didn’t think this part of the Underworld was supposed to have the Fires of Hell – that was a particular quirk only found in the Morningstar’s kingdom. Damn – had the portal dumped him in the wrong part of the Hell Realms?
He turned then stilled. He wasn’t in tunnels – he stood in what looked like a large lounge room complete with spring-green rug, red upholstered furniture and flowers on every buffet, side table and antique drawers scattered around the room.
Standing in front of a fireplace that looked like it had been hewn by giant teeth, limned by the flickering firelight, were a couple in a lover’s embrace.
Not just any couple. Hades and Persephone.
Shit-fuck-damn! What in all the hells were they doing here? They were supposed to be at Persephone’s All Hallows’ Eve party.
He must have done something wrong. His spell was supposed to have dropped him right outside Varagustus’ cell. It sure as damnation wasn’t supposed to drop him into Hades’ private lounge room.
This was not at all going to plan.
Thank all the Gods neither Hades nor Persephone noticed him portal in uninvited. Famous for their displays of PDA, they were currently too wrapped up in their kiss – and in a state of half-undress – to notice him standing near the door. Actually, only Hades was partly undressed. Persephone was obviously in costume for her Halloween party. A quick glance at the broken horns, trident and torn cape that lay on the green rug in front of Hades’ throne-like armchair had Tamuel guessing it was the reason they were still here. Hades famously hated dressing up.
What a bloody cock-up! He hadn’t taken Hades’ mood into consideration when planning this. The Fates must be meddling again – they loved pulling on unexpected threads and watching the chaos that unfolded. He was certain they did it for shits and giggles. He wished there was a way to show them just how not funny their meddling was.
He glanced at his bloody right wrist where the sigil for the portal spell was carved into his skin. Hades and Persephone still being here could ruin everything. He had to find Clodia and get her to tell him what she’d done with his mother’s powers. He’d made a vow and it was either succeed or die trying.
He’d prefer the dying part didn’t happen now though.
He backed up, hoping to reach the open door behind him before they finished kissing. This could still work as long as he could get out of here before they noticed him.
He was almost at the door when Persephone muttered, “Please, my hell beast. I’ll let you suck on my toes if you put on the Lucifer costume.”
“But you don’t like it when I do that, honey-flower.”
“But you like it, my sexy-wexy-lover-boy. And while you do that, I’ll suck your c—”
“‘Ew -ew.” TMI even for a cupid. Tamuel skittered backwards, desperate to get out of the room before he saw something he’d never be able to forget. He turned … and bounced off Hades’ naked chest.
Damn you Fates. He’d obviously made enough noise to catch the God of the Underworld’s attention. Rallying – and trying to ignore the God’s raging hard-on that tented his jeans – he smiled up at Hades. “Happy All Hallows’ Eve, Uncle.”
Hades didn’t smile. “I don’t remember receiving notice from Eros that one of his cupids was coming down for a visit,” he said smoothly, turning back to look at his wife. “Do you remember asking Eros to send one of his cupids down here, my passion flower?”
Persephone crossed her arms, shaking her head a little. “No, I did not, pooky-wooky. What are you doing here, Tamuel?”
“Well, I—”
“I smell blood.” Hades’ gaze snapped to the blood dripping on the floor then at its source – the sigil carved into Tamuel’s skin.
He made to back away, but Hades grabbed Tamuel by the wrist, lifting it to his nose. He sniffed at the bloody sigil then, black eyes flaring red as they met Tamuel’s, he snarled, “You’re corporeal. Who showed you that magic, boy?”
Shit. Shit. This so wasn’t going how he’d planned – slip in, find Varagustus, get the information he wanted, steal a Hells-Key, travel to Tartarus and question Clodia, then back out before Hades even knew he’d come here. But there was no point lying to the angry God standing before him. Hiding his wince of pain as the God of the Underworld’s fingers tightened around his wrist, he said, “Nobody, Uncle. I found it.”
Hades growled, fingers tightening further – pain slashed through Tamuel as something snapped in his wrist. Hades’ grip tightened as he barked out, “I don’t believe you. Zeus and I made Persephone and Demeter rid the world of this heresy many centuries past.” He leaned in closer, a growl in his throat, black eyes flashing orange then red. “Tell me who told you of this spell.”
The God jerked his hand; something else snapped. Lights sparked before Tamuel’s eyes and he almost went to his knees.
“Well?” Hades shook him.
Tears stinging his eyes, Tamuel managed to say, “I’ve always been ... interested in ... the Eleusinian Mysteries. I found ... writings on them.”
“Impossible,” Persephone said, coming forward to stand beside Hades. She might be pixie-like to her husband’s towering brute, but in that moment, she was the far more frightening. “Who betrayed us?”
“I—” His mind whirled, trying to come up with something, anything, but the pain as Hades crushed his wrist made that impossible. Darkness whirled around him and he ...
Shaking brought him back to consciousness; pain spiked through him, the warmth of blood running down his arm – his suit was going to be ruined, he thought groggily. Someone was yelling something. More shaking and pain brought his attention back to the God still holding him up by his mangled wrist. “Wha?” he slurred.
“Tell us, cupid, or your body and your spirit won’t leave the Underworld this All Hallows’ Eve – or ever again.”
Despite the danger and threat, Hades’ beautiful voice coiled around Tamuel, drawing him in, making it impossible to deny him what he wanted, no matter how he’d promised not to tell on ... “Demeter.”
“My mother?” Persephone said.
He nodded, then cried out again as Hades squeezed and broken bones ground together. Darkness threatened to take him down once more. “Please, my lord,” he gasped. “My wrist. You’re crushing ... it.”
“Ease up, pumpkin pie. You don’t want him to pass out before he tells you what we want to know.”
“Whatever you say, honey bunny.” He let go.
Tamuel dropped to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t take his eyes off Hades, but couldn’t help looking down at his shattered wrist. He almost fainted at the sight. But it wasn’t so much the bones that poked through his skin that made him break into a cold sweat: the sigil was destroyed. He hadn’t memorised it; had hoped to copy it from one wrist to the other for his return but now ...
“Oh Hades, look what you’ve done.”
“It’s no more than he deserves for using that spell.”
Hades tapped his foot. Tamuel looked up at him, mind whirring, his thoughts clearer now that Hades had stopped inflicting pain. Eros had spent hours lecturing him when he was younger about the importance of dealing with what came next rather than what came after. He really wished he’d listened because if he didn’t find some way of getting Hades and Persephone to understand, then there was no point in worrying if he could remember the sigil or not: he wasn’t making it out of this room alive.
Trying to ignore the sick throbbing pain in his wrist and arm – and the fear he maybe had finally bitten off more than he could chew – he pushed to his feet, straightened his shoulders and met the God of the Underworld’s angry gaze. He’d already broken his promise, so ... “Demeter gave it into my keeping centuries ago.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Persephone said, delicate features filled with hurt and anger.
“She did.”
“But we destroyed all the words together. Wiped all the followers’ minds.”
“Not all. She couldn’t do that to her favourite priestess, Carianthe. She hid her from you and let her keep her memories. Carianthe wrote her life’s work all over again in the last years of her life. After she died, Demeter couldn’t bring herself to destroy it, so she gave it to me to hide with the other treasures I had in my keeping.”
“Your mother,” Hades snarled at Persephone. “I should have known she’d find some way of screwing this up. I just never thought she hated me so much that she’d risk this. Wait until I get my hands on her ... I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing to my mother,” Persephone said, grabbing her husband’s hands as they made a wringing motion. “I will take her to task over this. But first, we must find out why Mum gave Tamuel a copy of the Eleusinian Mysteries Grimoire. Did she want you to use this spell?”
Hades turned to him, fire in his eyes. “Did she?” He grabbed Tamuel’s wrist, pulling him up by it. “Did she?”
He clamped down on the scream, forcing himself to hold onto consciousness – he’d never seen his uncle this angry before. Didn’t want to think what might happen if he passed out. “No,” he ground out through clenched teeth, pain a writhing thing inside him. “She just wanted me ... to keep it safe ... in memory of her ... beloved priestess.”
“Why did you look at it then?”
“Your mother said ... I might have use of ... certain spells one day ... when I was desperate. She said I was only to ... look at it then ... I would know when. Please, Uncle. My wrist.”
