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Faerie Magic (Curse of the Fae Book 1)
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Faerie Magic
CURSE OF THE FAE 1
ANNA APPLEGATE
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
Faerie Magic: Curse of the Fae 1 © copyright 2021 Anna Applegate
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Cover design by www.trifbookdesign.com.
For my Girls
May you always follow your Dreams
Chapter 1
My stomach growled uncomfortably loud as I stood awkwardly in front of the dingy fast food counter.
Not eating anything solid for over three days apparently does that to you, and my body was impatient to get something in my rumbling belly.
“You gonna pay or like…ummm…”
I stared at the bleach-blonde barbie in front of me as she watched me, one hand on her hip. She smacked her lips around her gum once and raised her eyebrows expectantly.
I returned her fake smile with a forced one of my own as I dug out the assortment of change I’d earned singing on the corner of Rock Creek Park for the past hour.
It was just enough for a double cheeseburger and a soda. Another pop of bright pink bubble gum made me pause and inhale slowly, reminding myself that going off on said blondie wasn’t going to make me feel better in the long run. Instead, I politely and silently handed her my change.
She gave me a once-over and clearly couldn’t help herself as she wrinkled her nose. I bit my tongue. I didn’t want spit in the first meal I’d had in days, but it was clear this princess wasn’t used to seeing people like me much. Shocking seeing as she worked across the street from the park where most of the homeless spent their time once the weather was nice. But her wandering eyes that shone with discomfort at my position in front of the counter would lead me to believe she must not work here often. Most likely, she was out of school for the summer and either being punished or forced to learn in the real world by daddy and mommy dearest.
That’s not fair.
My subconscious poked at me furiously. I swallowed the guilt rising in my throat at the nasty direction my thoughts had turned. Even if she did start it with her judgy nose crinkle, I should know better than anyone about judging someone based on appearances. After all, I was standing there in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants with my plain-looking brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
I looked like a bum, but I wasn’t. No. At least not yet.
I liked to think I was a survivor. And no one could take that from me.
The blonde, whose name tag read Sandy—perfect name for a princess—deposited my money and then looked over her shoulder on both sides. She glanced around me as well. Should I be watching my back for some reason?
Then she leaned closer. “You know, you don’t have to put up with treatment like that.” She leaned back. “Bad boyfriend?”
I opened my mouth, but wound up gaping like a dead fish. I had no idea what to say. Both from the shock that she’d care enough to say something, but also because, well, what do you say?
“I’m sorry?”
Sandy touched her cheek, which automatically triggered me to bring my hand up to my own. I knew what I’d find. The blood from the small split on my cheek had dried, but the skin was warm and tender. It was most definitely bruised. Hopefully purplish instead of the ugly greenish brown my last one had instantly turned into.
I cleared my throat. “Right, thanks.”
Perhaps it was nice of her. She looked proud for saying something to me, but then her gaze filled with pity almost just as quickly.
I loathed looks of pity. I didn’t need to correct her and tell her I’d never let a man close enough to be a boyfriend. No, this shiner was from Darryl. Foster dad of the year. Though the “dad” in foster dad was even too strong a term of endearment for what Darryl was.
The food bag landed on the counter with a thud and I immediately snatched it, not worrying about how greedily I’d wrapped my fingers around it. I turned on my heel, practically running out of the place before Sandy could say anything else.
I inhaled the night breeze the minute I was free from the public restaurant. It didn’t matter that it was humid and sweat beaded on my back instantly. It didn’t matter that the air was clouded with the smog of a city. No, all of that I could handle because it was out of sight from watchful eyes of pity. That is until an elderly woman walking in looked me over skeptically before proceeding through the doors behind me.
Another look of pity. Only this one was mixed with judgement. I touched my bruise again, brushing my fingers over it gently. Like I could somehow make it disappear. It wasn’t my first, and if I stayed in my foster home, it wouldn’t be my last.
The lights from Rock Creek Park distracted me momentarily before I glanced down at my watch. I should be home. If I went now, there’d be a fight about where I’d been. Maybe if I waited a little longer though, I could sneak in. Maybe.
I crossed the street and jogged until I was farther into the park. The small beads of sweat that tickled my back were now everywhere. Damn this heatwave.
Despite the t-shirt clinging awkwardly to my damp limbs, I was relieved the minute I slowed down and really took in the expanse of the park from the edge of the entrance. Rock Creek Park, with its vast space of winding paths, gardens, fountains, trees, and greenery in my dingy subset of Washington, DC had become a sort of sanctuary for me. I smiled as I approached a familiar bench and plopped down next to the man who was sleeping.
“Hey, Cora girl,” his voice was muffled by his arm. Apparently not sleeping. His matted black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and by the looks of the dampness, he was hating the heatwave as much as I was.
“Hi, Joe.”
Joe was a regular in Rock Creek. He was old enough to be my father, and with the amount of advice he’d doled out while watching me with those careful bright green eyes, he was probably the closest thing to one I’d ever had. He’d always been so kind to me and provided a listening ear more than once on this very bench.
I knew I wasn’t the only one, too. Joe’s raggedy clothes were usually replaced a few times a year by strangers, or perhaps people he’d touched. The wise wrink
les around his eyes teased at the laughter he’d participated in throughout his life. He was always giving to everyone around him. Despite his own situation. I smiled down at him before unrolling the brown bag in my lap.
The smell of the cheeseburger was overpowering and I gulped in the warm scent of ketchup, cheese, and processed meat.
My lips tugged upward as I tore back the wrapping around the cheeseburger and devoured such a large bite I had to mash it into my mouth to be able to chew.
I moaned as the taste hit my tongue.
Lifting the soda, I gulped down the fizzy drink. It tickled my throat bringing on a burp that made me giggle.
The uncommonly loud belch caught Joe’s attention, and he sat up halfway. He cocked an eyebrow and gave me a stern look. I threw him an apologetic smile and he shook his head.
“A young thing like you should still have manners at this stage in life.” He laughed when I stuck out my tongue at him.
His laughter turned solemn as he looked at my face, no doubt seeing the latest gift from Darryl. This time, he shuffled and moved so he was sitting upright next to me.
As he sucked in a breath, no doubt to ask what happened, I shoved my cheeseburger toward him in an effort to cut him off. “Did you want some?”
His eyes softened and he held up his hands, declining. “Cora, you need to eat. I’m just fine.”
I pursed my lips together and resumed chewing and savoring my meal.
Joe let me finish without a word. We sat in comfortable silence and I closed my eyes as I swallowed the last bite.
The soda was long gone. I leaned back and looked up at the night sky. The city lights made it impossible to see anything but black. Sometimes on nights like this I longed to see a star. Just one. Something light and untouched by darkness.
“What happened this time?” Joe’s voice broke through my wishing.
I hesitated before making eye contact with him. “Darryl didn’t think the house was dusted. Chaylene didn’t remember if it had been or not, since she was on her fifth cocktail when he rolled home.” I shrugged. “I figured taking it was better than fighting back this time.”
I lowered my eyes, disgusted with myself. The last time I tried to fight Darryl when he raised a hand to me, he threatened me with his always within-reach-handgun. Staring down the tight yet wobbly grip he held on it, I remember desperately trying not to wince as it went off and busted through the floorboards in the corner of the room, next to where I stood. His laugh still rang in my ears and I knew he’d found something that gave him a high of control again since his fists hadn’t done the trick.
Now I worried one night he might just be angry enough, drunk and drugged enough, or both, to follow through and hit me instead of the floorboards.
Joe sighed and placed his tattered coat arm around me. “Kiddo, you’re going to be all right. Don’t forget to keep looking up.” He smiled, pointing at the night sky.
I squeezed my hands together. “I don’t know if I have it in me anymore, Joe. I’m thinking about leaving for good. I can’t make it these next few days.”
Joe didn’t answer. We sat still for a few more minutes and finally, he spoke. “A few days of hell in exchange for freedom is worth it, sweetheart. I promise you.”
I looked back over to the man beside me. For five years Joe had been here, listening to my story. And I barely knew his. Just that he had no family left and was a war veteran. He’d been homeless longer than I’d been alive. If he was giving advice, it was wise to listen.
He met my gaze and gave me a small smile. “Trust me on that one. You come of age in the system and they’ll set you up and help you on your feet. You run away, you wind up like me. There’s nothing but drugs and prostitution here.” His smile faltered, but only for a moment. “You’ve managed to keep a small light around you. You are kind to others, you care about people. You have hope. Don’t let that drugged-out nobody take that from you when you’ve come this far, Cora girl.”
My chest constricted as Joe spoke. I knew he was right, but I couldn’t speak for fear of breaking down right there, so instead, I nodded.
“Now, run on back and be careful. Night time isn’t the best time out here,” Joe said. He nudged my shoulder and lay back down on the bench.
“Thank you,” I said to him and rose, giving him a small wave before I slipped away from his line of sight.
The noises of the city played like a soundtrack in the background of my movements back to the house. Not home. I’d never had anywhere I called home.
I closed my eyes, listening to car horns blaring and a distant chattering that the voices from the surrounding area made as they rose up into the sky. I checked my watch again.
It was only eight o’clock. Prime time for drinking in the great Darryl Aberdeen’s home. I shut my eyes hard, pushing the two horrendous adults from my mind.
I should have gone straight, kept walking along the edge of the park and figured out a way to sneak into the house. Instead, I looked to my right. It was a longer route, one that would buy me more time. Joe did say it wasn’t safe, but there were still so many people around. I didn’t care.
Anything was better than there. And the park called to me, offering a few more minutes of peaceful solitude.
I walked under the brightly lit lampposts lining the pathway I jumped onto. The trail was quiet, though the city noises were still close, and I basked in the fading sounds of life.
A few more days. Joe said to wait. I could do it. I could make it a few more days.
Ahead, there was a gorgeous reservoir pond. Well, that might be generous for what it was. It was a stone wall that housed a pond of water.
I stopped walking and stared. In five years of walking the park, I’d only been this way once. I looked around. The darkness of the night was thickening. But it was beautifully picturesque and a quick stroll around the edge would give me the last bit of relief before I faced the music back with Darryl.
I hopped up onto the ledge. Snorting, I threw back my head, holding out my arms as I remembered what Joe said about my light. My hope. It seemed so faint right now. But he was right, Darryl couldn’t take it from me, even if it was barely there. I may be rough around the edges, but they hadn’t broken me completely.
And I’d be damned if they did so now.
I grinned knowing that in a few days I would be free, on my own. Ready to start my life in any way I wanted.
I jumped and spun in the air, falling back down and landing right on the edge, feeling adventurous and unstoppable.
I shimmied my shoulders, giggling and did a victory twirl.
Too quickly.
Too forcefully.
My foot slipped off the side and I gasped as I lost my balance. I fluttered my arms frantically, flailing to save myself from tumbling over the ledge, but it was no use. I spun out of control and fell.
In an idiotic effort to grab the ledge, I twisted my body and slammed my head directly against the stone wall.
Pain seared through my skull as my body went limp and toppled into the shock of frigid water below.
Chapter 2
My lungs screamed for air and mistakenly, from fear and the disoriented sensations coursing through me, I sucked in a breath. And for a second, the world was black.
No, don’t breathe.
I jerked around desperately and exhaled the gulp of water. Immediately, my mind pushed past the rising panic; while I was trapped underwater, I needed to try to find my composure. My chest heaved, tightening as I spun around, not knowing which way was up and which way was down.
I kicked out, hoping to find purchase or even the surface of the water. Regardless of what direction was accurate, if I did nothing, I’d die.
For heaven’s sake, Cora! I screamed internally. I knew how to swim, which would make dying in a miniscule reservoir pond the saddest way to go.
As I tried to move my arms less wildly and get a rhythm going, a current knocked me back. The water was moving around me, swirling in a st
range whirlpool-like motion.
Which made absolutely zero sense since I was in a stagnant pond in the middle of Rock Creek Park.
I tried not to panic as my body moved involuntarily inside the whirling, bubbling current. I kicked and thrashed my arms, pushing outward. All I could see was depths of water everywhere. I lifted my head but couldn’t tell if the direction was actually up or down. I exhaled again, this time knowing I didn’t have any more time to try to regain some sort of orientation. I just had to move.
I kicked and stroked my arms forward, gliding through the water while praying that it was the direction that would lead me to the surface. The current tugged at my body and spun me in a full circle.
My throat threatened to open and inhale, even though my mind knew that would be the end. I needed air. More than I’d ever needed anything before in my life. I needed air.
A silent scream tore through my head as I kicked harder and more methodically, finally breaking free from the swirling rush of water around me. A light shone above my head and I stroked one final large push and broke through the surface.
I gagged, choking and sputtering as I kept afloat. I wiped my eyes, sucking in air as if it’d be taken from me again.
I inhaled as I sputtered a few more times, feeling like I might vomit before leaning back, floating momentarily so that I could try to catch my breath a bit more.
I did it. I survived.
After a few more deliciously sweet breaths of air I swam forward, reaching to grab the ledge of the pong, and immediately came up short.