Harlowe’s Curse – Chapter 14

DAMARA

I am a prisoner of many cruel things. The roots binding my legs to the bedposts, the exhaustion hitting me in erratic waves, and the unwanted nightmares that inhabit my fitful sleep. But finally, the turbulent fog of my mind dissipates, and I recognize the chime of a little bell.

My eyes open slowly to the fairy lights still glowing on the ceiling. I’m drenched in sweat, mouth parched, but my determination allows me to ignore the discomforts.

The little bell sounds again, and this time I have no doubt. It’s a cell phone’s alarm.

I sit up and look around the room. The jacket Harlowe had been wearing the night of the curse has been pushed under the bed, but I can see the sleeve poking out. I lean forward, my legs aching but my hand reaching the sleeve easily. I hoist the jacket carefully up in case the phone is in there. I search the pockets and—

There.

Harlowe’s cell phone.

It’s locked, but all it requires is her fingerprint. My smile stretches wide, dry lips cracking. I run my tongue over them lightly as I unlock the phone.

I dismiss the alarm titled pick up bd outfit, and about a million messages appear. Some missed calls from Norma and Jaden from three days ago, asking where she is, if she’s okay.

Three days? Really?

I’ve been in this garage for too long already. I cannot let this go on any longer. I need to get back to the coven before the Wickens do something worse than bind my legs to a bed frame.

I spot a lot of missed calls and text messages from a certain Vittorio. I don’t read all of them, but I read enough to understand that Harlowe dumped him quite brutally at the fair, that Vittorio saw the fire from afar and is increasingly worried since no one is answering his messages, and that he wrote a ukulele song about her while waiting for her to return his calls. Naturally, he doesn’t say so, but the guy is obviously human and irretrievably in love with her.

Perfect.

I start typing, checking previous messages to study Harlowe’s writing style. Several small messages of broken thoughts instead of a bigger, exhaustive one. No emojis. No punctuation. No emotion. No tact whatsoever. The girl sounds kind of mean, to be honest. I can’t help writing a piece that displays a little bit more affection, because there’s no way Vitt would help Harlowe if she dumped him just three days ago, right?

Harlowe: hey sorry things have been crazy lately needed time to process

Harlowe: but the fire made me realize i made a mistake

Harlowe: i want to see you again and explain everything

Harlowe: my parents grounded me tho

Harlowe: do you think you could sneak in the garage without them noticing so we can talk

His reply is almost instant, and I think, Oh, he really loves her. Guilt pricks my stomach, because I know the feeling of being played by someone you love a little too well, but this is just too important to back out now.

Vitt: I’m so happy to hear from u!!! Yes! I’m on my way!!

Vitt: 😁😁😁

Harlowe: wait I need you to grab a few things for me 1st do you think you can do that

Vitt: At the store? What is it? Let me guess.

Vitt: 🥨🥨🥨

Harlowe: not exactly

Vitt: Oh, sorry!! I just thought you might have another craving like the other day or something! What is it??!

Harlowe: it’s a little more complicated than food

Harlowe: promise me you’re gonna get it no matter how weird things get

Vitt: Babe, I promise.

Harlowe: good

More than good: I found myself another human. He won’t know what the necklace is, and he won’t be recognized by other witches if anyone in the coven is looking for my heirloom—which I know they must be by now. And which is why I put a spell on the Blood stone so that outside of the owner, myself, only a human could touch it.

Vitt: What do u need?! 😁😁

Harlowe: first a few rose thorns in cold water

Harlowe: second a necklace

Harlowe: third

Harlowe: an ax

boisdemoon