Cursed (The Spellbound Series, #2)

10 | The Nightmare on Christmas

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Chapter 10 – The Nightmare on Christmas

The house was quiet, and lonely. A too-quiet kind of loneliness that made Landon uncomfortable. There had been moments like these quite often after his parents died. It was as if all the joy and laughter in their lives had died with them, and there was no way to get it back. All that was left were the bittersweet memories, more often a painful reminder of their loss rather than a source of happiness.

Landon remembered his father quite clearly. Like Landon he'd been a tall man, and intimidating in stature. Once you'd gotten close enough, though, and seen his kind, gray-green eyes and his quiet smile, you'd know he was a gentle giant. They'd had a love for sports in common, particularly basketball. Some of Landon's fondest memories were the two of them shooting hoops, or nights when his father wasn't on call at the hospital, and they'd sit in the living room and watch a match. His father would have a good few drinks in him then, and you'd swear he was a completely different person – loud, rambunctious and fun.

His mother, on the other hand, had never needed alcohol to have fun. She'd always been someone who was very open with her emotions; you'd know when she was happy, because she'd be humming and singing all day, and you'd know when she was mad, because your ears would be sore from all the yelling she'd dished out on you. She'd been an accountant, but with the heavenly perfection she cooked up for them almost every day without fail, she could easily have been a professional chef.

Landon never thought about his parents for too long; he never had the time. After they were gone, Landon had realized that he would need to take responsibility for brothers, and he'd been happy to do so. All they had was each other, and it was his duty to keep them all together. Or maybe that had just been his way of coping – focusing his energy on them so he didn't have to be alone with his sadness.

Landon didn't liked being on his own. He'd gotten used to it over the years, but sometimes when his brothers weren't home he'd keep the television on, even if he wasn't watching, just to have some kind of sound in the house. The only reason he didn't have to do that anymore was because Sam had come into his life.

But now here Sam was, pale and motionless on one of the couches. Without a sound. Without a smile. Without a shadow of life, except for the faint pulse Landon compulsively checked every few minutes. And so he sat on the floor beside Sam, Grimoire open and cradled in his lap, with nothing but too-quiet loneliness around him.

At least the snow had eased up for the morning.

Landon heard shuffling in the room, and then a loud groan. He glanced over his shoulder, and sighed. Oh yeah, he thought. Anson's here.

But he wasn't really there, when Landon thought about it. The little information that their Grimoire had about these nymph creatures was mostly about sirens, and it said that a victim of a siren's curse would not be himself. The only thought in his mind would be to serve the siren. That was, if she hadn't made a meal out of him.

Granted, this scenario was considerably different. Besides, he had never seen even a regular siren's curse firsthand. Landon pursed his lips as his brother began to wake from his unconscious stupor. This siren had chosen to make Anson and Melissa victim to each other, for reasons still unknown. Would the extent of the curse be the same?

"Wha..." Anson mumbled, attempting to heave himself into an all-fours position. He coughed a few times. "Where... is..."

"You'll be pleased to notice that I fixed your face," Landon said as he closed the Grimoire. He placed it at the foot of the couch on stood himself up. "And trust me, it looked pretty bad. Which is generally what you should expect if you plan on getting off with your brother's girlfriend."