Chapter 9: The Curse

“What’s in there, the entire Charmed box set?” Spencer asked, already reaching.

Erin slapped his hand away with a practiced thwack. “That is MY magic bag. Boundaries, Spencer.”

She rummaged and pulled out a few thick sticks of wood and a black tray. She lit the sticks, let them catch, then blew them out, filling the room with the acrid, comforting smoke of smoldering cedar. Chanting softly—I think it was just the ingredients list from her favorite bath bomb—she circled the table, trailing smoke like a budget special effect. “Okay,” she announced, sinking into her chair. “The space is prepared. We should be okay.”

“‘Should be’?” Lizzie instantly seized on the negative, a habit we’d been trying to bless and release for years.

Erin rubbed her hands together. “Well, as long as we all have positive intent, this should go well.”

Lizzie’s brow furrowed. “And if she doesn’t have positive intentions? What if she’s, like, a total ghoul?”

Erin’s expression didn’t flinch. “We’ll know pretty quickly. Remember, fear is just a neon sign to negative energies…” She trailed off, digging again. This time she produced her mystical inventory: the deep violet of amethyst, the velvety black of obsidian, and a white, chalky-looking rod I knew was selenite.

“The selenite raises the vibrations of the room,” Erin explained.

“Aha!” Spencer cried, snapping his fingers. “Good Vibrations it is!” He launched into an off-key, candlelit rendition of The Beach Boys, which we all instinctively joined until Erin put a hand on her hip, cutting off the rhythm and volume instantly.

I looked around at my crew—we were all nervous, but Erin was about to attempt the biggest piece of actual magic I’d ever seen her try. I gave her an encouraging nod. Who knows? She might get it right this time.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat, startling me again. “I need everyone to hold hands around the table.”

The chain was completed: Erin to me, me to Spencer, Spencer to Zora, Zora to Lizzie, and Lizzie back to me. Our circle was closed, and we all seemed to breathe a little easier.

Erin closed her eyes, her normal voice dropping into a low, theatrical timbre. “Gentle spirit, I call upon you. It is our wish to communicate. Let us speak as friends, and let us help you find what you are looking for.”

A bone-deep hum of icy energy descended, replacing the heat of the candles. It felt like the air itself had been flash-frozen. I met Spencer’s eye, mouthing, “Do you feel that?”

He nodded, but his gaze darted past my shoulder. Everyone at the table was staring, not at me, but at something directly behind me.

“What is going on?” I whimpered, already halfway down the road to a full-blown panic attack.

Erin squeezed my hand so tightly I almost yelped. “She’s right behind you.”

The ghost took that as her personal invitation. A touch landed on my shoulder, and my entire arm was instantly plunged into a well of ice water. The shiver started deep in my bones.

With a gasping side-glance, I saw her glide—she didn’t walk—around the table. She was tall, wearing a modern, sleek black dress. Her hair was a wild, flowing mass of blonde curls. The whole apparition had a distinct, terrifying blue hue, a walking piece of glacial ice. She paused, making deliberate eye contact with each of us.

When her eyes met mine, I saw her clearly: beautiful, remote, and utterly non-human.

“Are you Sadie?” Erin’s voice quivered, but she managed to break the silence.

The ghost’s eyes flicked from mine to Erin, and a graceful, almost dismissive eyebrow arched. She gave a single, slow nod, backed away from the table, and crossed her arms over her chest, as if waiting for a truly intelligent question.

Lizzie, bless her practical heart, spoke up next. “Do you mean us harm?” Zora gripped Lizzie’s hand so hard her knuckles turned white.

Sadie seemed to genuinely consider the question. She studied Lizzie, then slowly shook her head, no. We all let out a collective, shaky sigh, sitting a little straighter.

“Why are you here?” Spencer asked, feeling dangerously confident.

This seemed to genuinely perplex Sadie. She offered no reply. Instead, she simply began to drift away.

“Wait!” Erin shot to her feet, shattering the hand-holding circle. The ghost froze but didn’t turn. “Wait, please.”

The heartfelt plea did the trick. Sadie turned back, a gentle, sad smile replacing her neutrality. She motioned for us to follow. Then, our guide walked directly through the living room couch, continued toward the bookshelf, held out her hand to indicate the shelf, and walked through that, too, before disappearing.

We all stood in stunned silence, looking back and forth at one another.

“I think she wants us to look here,” I finally said, reaching for the nearest book. It was an old, well-loved hymnal. I shrugged at the others and started flipping pages, checking for hidden messages or loose papers.

They took my lead, moving to the shelf to open books and shake them gently. Lizzie returned to the table with a precarious stack of her own. “Can I grab a stack for you?” she asked Zora, her voice quiet.

Zora gave her a thoughtful, grateful look. “Yes, thank you. I’m feeling a bit weak.”

Lizzie hurried off. Once she returned, Zora directed her to the coffee table by the couch, patting the surface. “Thank you,” Zora said softly, watching Lizzie walk back to the main table. The quiet look they exchanged told me their moment was far from over.

I grabbed a handful of books and settled into a chair. Erin and Spencer stayed by the shelf, meticulously going through every volume. Hours blurred. The snacks were practically extinct.

“Ooooh, listen to this,” Spencer whispered, pulling a colossal, leather-bound tome from the top shelf. He shook it, and a satisfying, distinct clunk echoed. “This has to be it.”

He didn’t hesitate. He tore open the front cover. Inside, a secret chamber was hollowed out, containing a small wooden box. As he flipped the lid, a dark, glittering cloud of dust erupted in his face. He inhaled a lungful and instantly crumpled, coughing and struggling for air. He dropped the book, stood up too fast, and started to waver.

Lizzie was there in a flash.

“Spencer!” Erin screamed.

Lizzie didn’t just catch him; she protected him, ending up underneath him, his upper body cradled in her arms. We all rushed forward.

Spencer was awake, but his breathing sounded like torn burlap. “What the hell was that?” he rasped, his voice raw.

We looked to Erin. She pulled her sleeve down to cover her hand, then gingerly picked up the book. “There’s a note!” she shouted, adrenaline erasing her caution.

Lizzie, still under Spencer, scoffed. “A note with a curse-cloud? That’s never good.”

“This time she’s right,” Erin sighed, her excitement draining away.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“It has a skull and crossbones and some text I can’t decipher,” she said, looking up from the page.

Spencer groaned, and this time, the cough that wracked his body was a painful convulsion. Lizzie held him tighter. He covered his mouth, and when he pulled his hand away, a viscous smear of black goo stained his palm.

“Fuck…” Spencer showed us his hand.

“Don’t worry, yet,” Erin said, pulling her phone from her pocket with an almost manic energy. “I’ve got an app for this.”

Spencer, choking on more goo, sputtered, “What?!”

“I forgot! My coven got a new messaging app,” Erin explained, furiously typing. “I can send a photo to see if anyone is online now that the storm’s over.”

“There’s a dial-a-witch app?” Spencer tried to laugh but coughed up another dark, glistening glob.

Zora, quiet and efficient, retrieved one of Spencer’s previously-secured clean towels. She knelt, handing it to him. Erin snapped photos by candlelight and fired them into the digital ether. Spencer’s condition deteriorated with alarming speed; he was paler, and the black goo stained his lips.

“We’ve got to hurry,” I urged Erin. Spencer’s eyes looked weak and unfocused.

“I know… I know… Wait… Got it!” Erin looked up, triumph and terror warring on her face. “It’s a spell.” She read from her phone. “The text says you have been…” She froze, looking from the phone to Spencer’s convulsing body.

“What does it say?!” Spencer demanded, still fiercely insistent.

“Tell us!” I yelled at Erin.

She sank to her knees beside Spencer. We were all huddled around him now. “It’s… a curse.”

It was that precise moment that Sadie glided back into the room. Her hands were still crossed, but her blue hue was gone, replaced by a sinister, sickly green glow. Her wicked, wide smile was now visible, and her clothing was drastically different—a much shorter dress that sparkled with dark designs. She looked utterly, malevolently transformed.

“What do you want?!” Erin demanded.

The ghost threw back her head in silent, soundless laughter, as if the sound had been stolen by death itself. We watched, paralyzed. She turned to walk away, still wearing that chilling grin.

I spat a curse at her. Sadie ignored it, walking toward the porch. Every deliberate step took her deeper into the surrounding darkness until she simply winked out of existence.

My attention snapped back to Spencer, who was now rattling and gasping for air, beginning to choke. I looked to Erin, still typing frantically. “What do we do?”

“I’m gonna call an ambulance,” Zora said, reaching for her phone.

“Wait!” Erin cried, not looking up. “That won’t help. He’s been cursed. He needs magic.” She continued typing. “I told them what’s going on, and they’re trying to figure out a counter-spell now.”

Zora paused, kneeling. “What are they saying?”

Erin looked up, briefly. “They’re… discussing it. I’m trying to give them all the resources we have…”

“Resources?” Lizzie asked, bewildered. “What does that mean?”

Erin just shook her head, fixated on her phone. “Hold on…”

We waited, watching Erin, but mostly watching Spencer. His breathing became ragged and shallow. Lizzie pulled him closer when he shivered. Zora sat and gripped his hand. The silence was deafening, hanging on Erin’s next words.

I moved to sit cross-legged by Spencer as Erin suddenly called out, “Okay! We have a plan.”

Spencer tried to sit up, and Lizzie helped him, positioning herself behind him for support.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“No, not we,” Erin said, vaguely. “Just Lizzie.”

Lizzie and I started to ask, but Erin threw up a silencing hand. “Just hear me out before you say anything.”

Lizzie shot her a questioning, dangerous look, but remained silent.

“They think you can remove the poison,” Erin stated, flatly.

I was stunned. Lizzie was flabbergasted. “You want me to… to suck on Spencer like a poisonous snake bite? That’s our only option?” Her wide eyes searched everyone’s faces.

Erin, losing patience, snapped, “Yes! It would take too long to gather everything we need for a potion, and even then, it wouldn’t be certain. This… You are our only choice.”

Spencer coughed, then managed to speak. “Do I get a say in this?”

Erin shook her head. “Do you want to live?”

Spencer turned his head to look at Lizzie. “I want to live. Please…”

That was all the motivation Lizzie needed. She adored Spencer’s strange charm. She took a deep, steadying breath, and her fangs were at the ready. Spencer turned to me, terrified, but his body chose that moment to convulse violently. He bucked against Lizzie, who wrapped her arms around him, holding him down until the seizure subsided. He slumped in her embrace, breathing raggedly.

Spencer whispered, “Please…”

Lizzie held him with one arm now. With her other hand, she grasped his hair, using it to gently maneuver his neck. He gasped as she leaned closer. She stopped just shy of his skin, let out one long exhale, and then bit down with blinding speed.

Spencer reacted to the pain, grabbing her arm, but the gasp turned into a low, prolonged moan. His body stretched out. The moans continued, and a bizarre, heavy intimacy descended on the space. I found myself looking away, meeting Erin’s eyes, who instantly looked away, too. Another moan forced us both to look back as Spencer writhed, blissfully, in Lizzie’s tight grip. She held him with both arms now. I was too afraid to ask, but Spencer looked less cursed and more… ecstatic. Only Zora watched intently, never looking away.

Seconds stretched into minutes. Then, Lizzie’s head pulled back all at once. Blood trailed down her chin and stained her lips. “It’s done,” she whispered, her voice soft. She steadied Spencer, slowly shifting him to the floor. She stood quickly, swaying slightly, and walked unsteadily into the dark corner of the room.

We heard a sickening thump. I grabbed a candle and followed, finding her on her knees by the couch, head down. “Lizzie? Are you okay?”

She collapsed forward onto all fours and began to shake. A strangled, animal scream tore from her throat before she stiffened and fell onto her side. Zora rushed over. Erin stayed with Spencer. Zora dropped to one knee and touched Lizzie’s cheek. “She’s as cold as ice.”

I touched her hand—it was like touching a statue. Zora and I gently rolled her over. She was gaunt, utterly lifeless. Zora checked for a pulse, and her eyes welled up with tears. I started to shake my head, refusing the worst-case scenario, when Lizzie bolted straight up, gulping air in deep, ragged sobs.

“Lizzie!” Zora cried, tackling her with a ferocious hug. They tumbled to the ground. I rocked back on my feet, giving them space. They sat up, still embracing as Lizzie tried to catch her breath.

She looked at me, and I mouthed, “You okay?”

Lizzie shook her head yes, but a single, bloody tear streaked down her face. Not okay, but surviving. I gave her a moment, patted her shoulder, and returned to Spencer.

He was still lying on the floor, but he was smiling.

“Wow. Just… wow,” he said, trying to sit up. Erin and I helped him.

“Wow what?” Erin asked him, suspicious.

Spencer touched his neck, pulling his hand away with only a trace of blood. The bite was already nearly clotted. His eyes were wide, and his breathing fast. “I didn’t know it would be like that.”

“Like what?” I asked. He shivered and looked around for Lizzie, who returned with Zora’s aid and came to stand nearby.

“It was fantastic! Like an orgasm, but better. I feel amazing!” Spencer beamed, shaking his head.

Erin gave him a skeptical look. “It didn’t hurt?”

“Just for a second,” Spencer insisted. “But then it was unbelievable…”

Erin looked at me, and I just shrugged, out of my depth. Lizzie looked down at Spencer. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you, but… it’s hard to explain.”

“No kidding,” Spencer laughed, eyes glistening. “But seriously, you saved me, and you gave me one of the most sensual experiences of my life.” Lizzie’s eyes widened, and some color returned to her cheeks. Spencer shook his head and clapped his hands. “I need to write this down.”

Lizzie laughed first, followed by the rest of us. The intoxicating relief faded quickly, however, and the laughter died to silence. The night, we all knew, was far from over.