Amy frowned as she studied her textbook. She had to turn in a vial of perfectly cursed water to pass this section of her Witchcraft course. But cursing water wasn't exactly easy.
The best way, of course, was to use water where a priest had drowned himself. A man of God choosing to condemn himself to Hell was the ultimate blasphemy. Such water would get Amy an A plus for sure. But this wasn't Wisconsin, where suicidal priests could be found in every bar. This was Seattle, a strangely optimistic place.
It didn't have to a priest, of course. Amy was fairly sure she could find some drug-addicted street person who wouldn't object to a fatal bath. But the power of the curse would be weak. And Amy would be squeamish about the whole thing anyway. She had already ruled out murder for the same reason.
But there were other ways to curse water that didn't involve death. She called Carl. His fiancée had just dumped him. He wasn't handling it well. Amy had lost patience with his wallowing and mostly avoided him, but she could use his help for this. She wasn't sure she could go through with it, but she wanted to be a witch. This was the easiest way to pass this test.
"H'lo?" he answered, with desperate hope in his voice. He no doubt wanted to hear Cynthia's voice. But Cynthia was never coming back. Amy might consider murdering that cold bitch if she ever came back to town, but it wasn't likely.
"Hi," Amy said. "It's your sister. How you holding up?"
"How do you think I'm holding up? Supposed to get married this morning. Should be on my way to the Bahamas."
"This is your wedding night," Amy realized. There was so much power in that symbolic ritual.
"Don't fucking remind me." He hung up on her. Carl was drunk. Very drunk. That was perfect. There would never be a better time for this.
Amy gathered her candles. She still had five of her Cynthia candles left, despite her heavy use of them. Because of those candles, Cynthia had robbed multiple convenience stores, punched a cop, poisoned several people's lawns, and gotten over fifteen speeding tickets while never setting foot in the state. Amy did not forgive people who hurt her brother.
She rode her bicycle over to Carl's house. It was only a couple of miles away and she didn't like polluting the air for such a short jaunt. She let herself in, quietly, and listened for her brother. She smiled to realize that he was running a bath upstairs. He couldn't be making this any easier.
Amy set up her candles outside the bathroom door and lit them. She used a Cynthia candle, a luxury candle, and a romance candle. Anybody within fifty feet would be pulled into the fantasies they put out. Someone with a strong will could throw off the illusions, but a depressed drunk would be an easy target. First, she had to open the door.
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Carl ignored the noises downstairs and outside his bathroom door. Amy had probably dropped by. He didn't want her here. Her sympathy was unwanted and unhelpful. He just needed to suffer through this. The bath was good and hot. His phone was playing appropriate music. He still had another full bottle of brandy. He had everything he needed.
The door opened. For one moment, Carl saw his sister Amy standing there, a scary expression on her face. But then he woke up.
Carl shook his head to clear it. He wasn't sure where he was. But then the fog lifted. He was in the Honeycomb Resort with his new bride. Cynthia was standing next to the hot tub holding two glasses of champagne and wearing just a towel.
"Hey there, husband. Ready to do the deed and consummate this marriage?"
"Am I ever!"
She handed him one of the glasses and he took a sip. The champagne tasted oddly of brandy, but just for a moment. "Come on in. The water's fine."
Cynthia looked nervous as she dropped the towel and stood before him, totally naked. "You look as scared as a virgin," he told her.
"Your sister is a virgin," Cynthia informed him. "Did you know that?"
"Um, no. I try not to think of my sister's having a sex life. Why are we talking about it?
"I just think it's important that you know that. She's taking those classes, you know. And sacrifices are essential. She chose to give up romance, children, love, and companionship, all the things that go with sex. There is immense power in sex. Giving it up will let her hold onto that power."
"My sister is a bit of a nut. She thinks she's going to be a witch. She's only twenty-two. She'll grow out of this, I hope."
Cynthia scowled at him. For a moment, she looked like... No. Why couldn't he get Amy out of his head? He tried to focus on what his bride was saying, but it didn't help.
"I suspect Amy's already evolving," Cynthia said. "It wouldn't surprise me if she's on the verge of giving up her virginity. She's found a power source that outweighs abstinence."
"Like what?"
"If she were to find another virgin and they gave each other their innocence, that would be a very vital energy. If she auctioned off her virginity, that would be powerful. Money, lust, and a contest. If she were to have sex with a family member, that would make potent magic. Dark, but potent."
"Our parents died. I'm the only family she has left."
