Free The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) by April Aasheim

one's making you stay here.” Merry tossed the towel on the counter and stormed out of the kitchen. “As a matter of fact, you have a perfectly good house you refuse to live in.”
    I snorted. She knew the reason I stayed away from Harvest Home. The three reasons, in fact: Jillian, Dora, and Michael. I wasn't speaking to Jillian and Dora after the deal they'd made on my behalf, and I tried to see Michael as little as possible for sanity's sake.
    “I'm not saying I'm tired of this house...” I said, following her into the living room.
    “Then what are you saying?” Merry asked, opening the drapes to let in the evening sun.
    “I'm tired of being a witch.”
    “How can you call yourself a witch? You're a wilder . You never use proper magick, and when you do...” She stopped, catching herself before she brought up the summoning circle incident.
    “I'm still a witch, caster or not. It's no wonder I'm cursed. Normal people don't get cursed. Normal people get the flu and call in sick for two days. Maybe we should try to live normal lives for a change. Don't we owe that to our kids?”
    Eve raised both eyebrows. “We're in Dark Root. There's no getting away from magick here.”
    “Tell me, Maggie,” Merry tagged on. “How do you propose we find this normalcy?”
    “We can start by cleaning out this house. There are weird things and pictures and whatchamacallits everywhere.” I marched around the living room, pointing out photos of mother and her coven, sipping tea in pointed hats out in the garden. I showed them book after book on the art, history, and science of witchcraft. And I presented shrunken heads and looking glasses and bottles labeled with obscure plants and herbs. “All of these things mark us as witches, even if we're the only ones who see them.”
    “It's who we are,” Eve said. “We all tried to run from it, but each of us came back. Including you.”
    I huffed, ignoring her, the fever working me into a lather. “Another thing––where's our damned cat? Maggie-Cat disappeared months ago. Doesn't that concern you?” I looked around, nearly hysterical.
    “Even normal people have cats that that disappear for a while,” Merry argued.
    “A while? I’m telling you, it's witchcraft. Maggie-Cat either disappeared because of magick, or ran away because she was afraid of it.”
    “He,” Eve corrected.
    “What?”
    “Maggie-Cat is a he.”
    “Thank you for the public service announcement, Eve. If he ever returns, I'll be careful not to hurt his feelings by calling him a her.”
    “Look, Maggie,” Eve said, stepping beside Merry. They both faced me, hands on their hips, united. “We’ve put up with your crap for days, but we’re done being your emotional punching bags.”
    Merry nodded quickly in agreement. “Yes. We're done.”
    I slumped against the back of the couch, wiping the perspiration from my face. They were right. I had been a pain in the ass. “I'm sorry. I'm just so worried.”
    “With all of us here, why would you worry?” Eve asked.
    I hesitated for a moment. “Because the curse was never broken.”
    “What? Why didn’t you tell us?” My sisters demanded in unison.
    I shook my head. “It never left. I thought in time it would go away, but I'm feeling weaker now, like someone's slowly letting the air of out me. I don't know what to do.”
    Merry hurried into the kitchen and briskly returned with a steaming cup of cinnamon and eucalyptus brew. Some families handled tragedy with counseling––ours handled it with hot tea.
    “Chock full of nutrients with no extra magickal ingredients,” she said, winking.
    “Thanks.” I breathed in the comforting aroma, feeling the warmth nourish me with each sip. “I should have told you about what was going on, but I didn't want to worry you guys.”
    “So, you chose bitchy instead?” Eve asked.
    I looked over at my son. He laid curled up in his bassinet, the tip of his thumb tucked into his mouth. “I don't want Montana to be