The Gramm Curse (The Night Watchmen Series) (3 page)

“Want me to call it in?” Cassie asks as she saunters up the stairs.

“Yeah,” Gavin says. He grabs my arm. “Where you goin’?’”

“To my place to grab a few things.”

“But breakfast-”

“I’ll swing by. I have to watch you enjoy the beer I won’t be drinking, right?”

His eyes go all squinty the way they do when he’s examining me, searching for a deeper reason than what my words are offering. If there’s anyone who can see past my thick walls, it’s him. I look away, focusing on the dark, drying blood coating my arm.

“Right,” he says hesitantly, still staring, still gripping my arm. “And your Witch?”

I peer over my shoulder at her. She tucks a strand of fallen hair behind her ear, and then rubs her hands together, preparing for the last memory-wiping spell. “She’s good. She came in her car.”

Cassie snorts under her breath and offers a lifted brow toward Gavin. He shakes his head. He never agrees with me when it comes to Jezi. “Whatever you say, man. We’ll talk about it over breakfast.”

I snatch my arm from him, ignoring the eyes the Witches have set on me, judging me. “I don’t want to talk about it over breakfast. I don’t want to talk about it at all.” Without another word, I rush down the rest of the stairs, anxious to get to my car. I can’t take another minute inside the house, another minute inside my head. The sooner I can shower off this blood, the sooner I’ll feel normal again.

THE LOFT I STAY I
N
is a small hole in the wall I got from one of Mack’s friends who only bought it to rent out. Barren gray walls, crumbling brick around the window, rutted wooden floors…it’s where I call home, and it’s nestled in the lower Manhattan on Ludlow, sitting right above a Chinese restaurant.

The sector Jezi and I are responsible for protecting extends a little past the Upper West Side. When we were fresh out of the Academy, it was barely a few blocks past my place. It seems the more paranormal we capture or take down, the further our reach extends; the more Mack wants from us.

After showering the evidence of the hunt away, I step out of my bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around my waist. Standing in front of my closet, I know I can wear whatever I feel like wearing. I’m off duty, but I like the way I feel inside the Night Watchmen uniform. I like the simplicity of my black t-shirt and black denim jeans. I like sporting the Coven’s symbol, a pentagram surrounded by three half-moons, on the shoulder of my leather jacket.

It’s what defines me.

The phone on my nightstand goes off. I huff and run my fingers through my wet hair. Can’t I have just a moment to myself? Can’t I just be left alone, the way I prefer it?

No. I can’t. I can’t because I’m bound by oath to the Coven. I’m bound to my partner. I’m bound to my brother.

Two full, flustered steps and I swipe the phone up. It’s Gavin. With a small sigh, I answer, “I told you, I’m coming. I just got out of the shower.”

“Forget that. Breakfast is over. I’m coming to you.”

“For what?”

“To talk,” he says seriously, bearing the tone of my father.

“Gavin, I already told you-”

“Tough shit.”

The phone clicks off.
Great.
He still won’t let go of the fact that I don’t care for Jezi in that way. At least once a month he tries to have the same conversation with me. I don’t know if it’s his own guilt for loving Cassie, knowing that she’ll die because of it, or if it’s Cassie in his ear telling him what he should do for the sake of Jezi who is her friend.

I’d put money on it that it’s the latter.

Either way, I don’t see Jezi like that. I never have, and I’m pretty sure I never will. My brother doesn’t understand that love can’t be defined by pointless words in a meaningless conversation; it’s ineffable. It’s a spiritual feeling, an irresistible desire to want someone in all the ways that makes us whole.

Or so I’ve read.

And if I’m lucky, I won’t experience that in my short lifetime. I won’t have something to miss out on. I won’t die knowing that I’ve left something that magical…that indescribably powerful behind.

But most importantly, I won’t regret my decision.

I settle for a pair of dark gray basketball shorts, and then cross the room to my bare kitchen. The fridge has very little in it; leftover pizza, a couple of eggs, a jug of milk, soda, cheese…none of it appeals to my growling stomach. I snatch the milk, and then reach up on top of the fridge for a box of sugary chocolate cereal. After filling my bowl, I grab a spoon and sit on a stool at the dark marble counter.

That’s when silence decides to ambush me.

I lean over and press the button to turn on the radio that streams throughout my small loft. Rap music pours through the speakers. “Gavin,” I groan, silently cursing him. He’s always messing with my stuff…switching things up, rearranging things so I can’t find them, and screwing with the orderly fashion I’ve come to need in order to function properly.

Inside my four steel walls, I’ve constructed a methodical routine with the sole intent of keeping me occupied until my hourglass runs out, until the sand quits spilling, and until my heart stops beating.

I shut the music off and flip the TV on across from me. It’s the news. I try to stay focused on what’s being said, but thoughts sit in the back of my mind like spring-loaded traps, waiting for me to step in. Just one small reminder, one small instance that reflects upon the things I’m trying so hard to avoid, and I’m caught.

A story scrolls across the bottom of the screen. “A gruesome murder took place at Firebrand last night. A 22 year-old woman was found murdered, drained of blood,” it reads.

That's a club located in my sector downtown. I need to check that out. I should call Mack. He can give us the go ahead to bring the club down if something fishy is going on. Jezi crosses my thoughts, and the trap snaps shut in the back of my mind. She’s always had my back, even when I’ve taken on the hardest cases. She’s always tried so hard, even from day one.

I drop my spoon and close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Shut it off
, I tell myself, but the images won’t disappear. The memories won’t go away.

When I met Jezibelle Beaumont on the day of our Culling, my mother’s advice wouldn’t leave my mind. Although I hadn’t seen her in over five years, her voice was as clear as if I had just heard her yesterday. “Never fall in love. Not with your affinity partner. Spare yourself what your father and I went through.”

I knew what I had to do when Jezi's name was called and she crossed the stage. When she took the oath alongside of me and branded herself willingly. I couldn’t love her because loving her would kill her, and I couldn't live with myself if that ever happened.

But if I chose to seal myself off from love, then it would only be my death that lurked around the corner. It's what my father did to keep my mother safe from the curse, and if he could shut his emotions off to keep her alive, then I can be just as emotionally reserved.

But that’s the thing about affinity bonds- it’s impossible not to care…not to fall in love. The affinity mark given to us on the day of the Culling does more than just brand us. It links our minds…and our hearts. If the partners don’t fall in love, then there’s always one in the bond that gets hurt. There’s always one who suffers the most.

Gavin strides in from the front door. “
Yo,” he shouts out. He takes the stool across from me and tips my bowl in his direction. “Cereal?”

I lift the bowl away from him. “It’s good.”

He smiles and rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, man.”

I tip the bowl up to my lips and drain the last of the milk in one gulp, ignoring Gavin’s tone, and then turn from him and put the bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. The air has a certain thickness to it that only ever appears when Gavin struggles with what’s on his mind, or when he’s about to lecture me. I just want to get this over with. I know he needs to say whatever it is he’s going to say. He won’t leave otherwise.

With a deep breath, I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. “So, what’s up?”

He fixes his eyes on me. “You’ve got to give her a chance.”

I roll my eyes.
Here we go again
. “Cassie’s words?”

He crosses his arms. “No. My own.”

I don’t believe him. I blow out a deep breath. “Look, can we pretend we had this conversation for the millionth time so you can go? No need to waste any more breath over this. You know the outcome will be the same.”

His determination is as heavy as an anchor, rooting him in place. “Indulge me one more time.”

“Really?” I say, pushing off the counter. “I’m not in the mood, Gavin. Not today. Go home. Go sleep, or watch infomercials or whatever.”

“I’d rather watch you squirm,” he says lightly, following after me. I drop onto my leather couch and kick my feet up on the small wooden coffee table. He sits across from me in our dad’s old recliner. “It sucks to see you so bent out of shape because of our parents. They wouldn’t have wanted this for you. I know it was a long time ago, but I still remember. You’ve twisted our past into something it wasn’t. You’ve made him into something worth idolizing, but you’ve got it all wrong.”

A quake of agitation ripples through my chest. We never agree on this subject. “Oh yeah, and how’s that?”

He leans forward, knowing he’s baited me, knowing he’s snuck through the cracks in my walls. “Because, Jax, he broke mom's heart. He made her believe he loved her, and then he shut it all off. He denied her his love up until the curse took his life. Who does that? Who wants to be like that?”

“Someone who wants to protect those they care about,” I say slowly, setting my eyes on his. “Someone who knows that their time is running out and a decision needs to be made. Him or mom. He chose himself. He chose to die so she could live.”

“No, damn it. You’ve got to get it through your head. Don’t you remember the drinking? The fighting? The pleading? He made her fall in love, and then he shut her out. Dad’s death did nothing but make him a liar.”

I jump out of my seat, fists clenched at my sides. “No, Dad’s death made him a hero!” I shout. Rage pounds behind my eyes, pounds within my heart. “He did his job. He did what he was supposed to do. He protected her.”

“No, Jaxen,” he says with more sorrow than I want to comprehend. He drags a hand down his face, and his eyes flood with sadness. “He lied to her.”

A metal clamp of agony presses on my heart. I don't want to hear this. I don't like the way it's making me feel. I don't want to feel, but I can't seem to shut my emotions off. The switch always breaks in Gavin's presence. 

Gavin's watching me like a wild animal in a cage, waiting for my reaction. It makes me feel even worse knowing how the others around me perceive me. Knowing that they see me as destructive and unfeeling when all I'm trying to do is what I think is right.

What I think will keep those I care most about safe from harm.

I shut my eyes for a moment, and tug in a long deep breath to steady me. “He protected his Witch,” I say slowly, carefully, trying to maintain composure. “He carried his curse and died with his dignity, the same way I’m going to go out. The only difference is that I’m not going to drag Jezi into a relationship
that I don’t care about, just to indulge her fantasy. I’m not going to mislead her. She deserves more than that. If you were half the man, you’d do the same for Cass.”

He slowly stands, running his hands down the front of his pants. “I may not be perfect, but Cassie knew from day one. She accepted me. She accepted our fate.”

“The same goes for me and Jezi.”

“No, Brother, Jezi loves you. She wants you to love her back.”

I groan, throwing my hands up in the air. “But I don’t! Damn it! Don't you think the thought has crossed my mind? It's just not in the cards for us. I care about her, and I will do anything and everything to protect her, but I don't love her like that. Why can’t all of you accept that? I feel nothing more than a really great friendship when I look at her. That's it. That's all there is for me. That's the life I've been dealt, and I'm doing the best that I can with it.”

He sighs heavily, plunging a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he murmurs under his breath. There's so much pain in his voice and it eats away at my composure. “Okay,” he says slowly, looking up at me with sincerity, “maybe I’m approaching this wrong-”

“You got that right!” I say, but he cuts me off just as quickly.

“Maybe Jezi isn’t the one for you, “ he grunts out, “but one of these days, little bro, someone’s
gonna come along and hit you so hard in the heart, you’re gonna be reeling from it. When that happens, I’m gonna be there to tell you I told you so. I’m gonna be there to tell you that love
is
worth living for.”

I snap my eyes back to my brother, scowling at him. “Don’t hold your breath. Even if that person did come along, I’d still be cursed and the curse says that if a Gramm doesn't fall in love with their affinity partner, then that Gramm will die. Why would I wish that on anyone. I'll be in my thirties or forties and bam! I'm dead, leaving someone behind to mourn over me.”

His blue eyes widen. Pieces of the wall between us, the one protecting us from each other’s rage, begins to crumble, and I don’t care to fix it. I want it to crash down. I’m sick of being told how I should live my life.

“I know this is news to you,” he says in a low voice, “but we’re all born with a heart, and most of us like to use it. We like to lend it out. There’s no point in breathing if you’re just a shell without a heart, and if you’re not careful, that’s what you’ll become.”