with you, I never did have much time for him. You used to have such strange dreams, and go into trances all of a sudden, and then the fevers! You were such a sick little girl! He used to tell me—in fact we always fought because of it, because I refused to admit it—but the truth is, he always suspected…Oh, sweetness.” Stella had never seen that expression on her mother’s face, and the look of it filled her with dread. “I think you might be cursed.”
Stella stared blankly at her as her brain digested the news, then she realized, feeling strangely unaffected, that she wasn’t surprised at all. She knew there was a reason she couldn’t ever seem to be happy. She knew there was something different about her, a reason the townsfolk kept a safe distance from her. She knew there was a reason she hardly ever smiled, hardly ever felt the desire to do anything but what she must. Until…
She hugged her mother then, as tightly as she could, and buried her face into her hair. “Oh, Mother,” she said feelingly. “I think I am cursed.”
When she felt the plump woman stiffen in her arms, Stella quickly expelled a breath. “I’m in love with the Villain.”
* * *
Damn you, Gabriel, you hotheaded, stupid man!
He had heard her, and he had smiled; he was still smiling over that. She wanted to give him her body, and that touched him beyond measure, made his heart feel so damned heavy he was barely able to carry it in his chest.
He’d felt rage at first, that she should even tempt him to do so, that she would think him so low, so capable of taking someone’s soul away. He’d been so angry, she was lucky all he did was send her home. But yet he’d pondered over it for hours afterward, concluding there was only one reason anyone would do something so unselfish. Only one reason Stella could know what Faith knew.
And then he’d realized Stella was Faith.
He’d trembled at the realization. Joy and love and disbelief all tangled and twisted inside him. His magic—it felt strong now, a burning light, more powerful than ever, simmering with energy in the pit of his being.
Growing up, Gabriel had thought his magic was evil. It had been too strong for such a little boy, and he hadn’t known how to control it. Several times as a kid, he’d been angry, and he’d wished for things he shouldn’t have. His father’s drunken bouts hade made him wish to be left alone, and one morning his wish came true. His father never woke from his sleep. Gabriel was sure he had killed him.
He’d felt so ashamed, so guilty, that he swore he’d never use his magic again. He’d tried to hold it back from then on, contain it, ignore it. But then the years passed, and he met her.
Faith Harrison. Beautiful, kind, warm-hearted Faith.
Was she blind? he’d first wondered when she smiled that dazzling white smile at him. Gabriel had turned to look at the sidewalk behind him, certain she couldn’t be smiling at him. Not that angel. Certainly not.
But she had been smiling at him, and although Gabriel didn’t believe in love at first sight, that hadn’t kept him from falling, hard.
He never told Faith about his magic, and yet she was a curious little thing, asking more questions than she should about everything. One day she trapped him, holding the bud of a lily in her hand, and wistfully wishing out loud that it open for her. Like the love-sick fool he was, wanting to impress his lady, Gabriel fell for that, and in less than a second the flower bloomed in her hand.
Faith had turned to him with wide, worshipping eyes. “I knew it!” she had said, waving the lily at him. “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it!”
From then on, Faith steadily encouraged him, steadfast in her belief that magic could do good, and that Gabriel was good. He’d desperately wanted to believe her, and yet he never truly embraced this “goodness” of which she spoke.
He knew what he’d done.
The day Faith had killed herself, when Gabriel had felt his whole
Stella stared blankly at her as her brain digested the news, then she realized, feeling strangely unaffected, that she wasn’t surprised at all. She knew there was a reason she couldn’t ever seem to be happy. She knew there was something different about her, a reason the townsfolk kept a safe distance from her. She knew there was a reason she hardly ever smiled, hardly ever felt the desire to do anything but what she must. Until…
She hugged her mother then, as tightly as she could, and buried her face into her hair. “Oh, Mother,” she said feelingly. “I think I am cursed.”
When she felt the plump woman stiffen in her arms, Stella quickly expelled a breath. “I’m in love with the Villain.”
* * *
Damn you, Gabriel, you hotheaded, stupid man!
He had heard her, and he had smiled; he was still smiling over that. She wanted to give him her body, and that touched him beyond measure, made his heart feel so damned heavy he was barely able to carry it in his chest.
He’d felt rage at first, that she should even tempt him to do so, that she would think him so low, so capable of taking someone’s soul away. He’d been so angry, she was lucky all he did was send her home. But yet he’d pondered over it for hours afterward, concluding there was only one reason anyone would do something so unselfish. Only one reason Stella could know what Faith knew.
And then he’d realized Stella was Faith.
He’d trembled at the realization. Joy and love and disbelief all tangled and twisted inside him. His magic—it felt strong now, a burning light, more powerful than ever, simmering with energy in the pit of his being.
Growing up, Gabriel had thought his magic was evil. It had been too strong for such a little boy, and he hadn’t known how to control it. Several times as a kid, he’d been angry, and he’d wished for things he shouldn’t have. His father’s drunken bouts hade made him wish to be left alone, and one morning his wish came true. His father never woke from his sleep. Gabriel was sure he had killed him.
He’d felt so ashamed, so guilty, that he swore he’d never use his magic again. He’d tried to hold it back from then on, contain it, ignore it. But then the years passed, and he met her.
Faith Harrison. Beautiful, kind, warm-hearted Faith.
Was she blind? he’d first wondered when she smiled that dazzling white smile at him. Gabriel had turned to look at the sidewalk behind him, certain she couldn’t be smiling at him. Not that angel. Certainly not.
But she had been smiling at him, and although Gabriel didn’t believe in love at first sight, that hadn’t kept him from falling, hard.
He never told Faith about his magic, and yet she was a curious little thing, asking more questions than she should about everything. One day she trapped him, holding the bud of a lily in her hand, and wistfully wishing out loud that it open for her. Like the love-sick fool he was, wanting to impress his lady, Gabriel fell for that, and in less than a second the flower bloomed in her hand.
Faith had turned to him with wide, worshipping eyes. “I knew it!” she had said, waving the lily at him. “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it!”
From then on, Faith steadily encouraged him, steadfast in her belief that magic could do good, and that Gabriel was good. He’d desperately wanted to believe her, and yet he never truly embraced this “goodness” of which she spoke.
He knew what he’d done.
The day Faith had killed herself, when Gabriel had felt his whole
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