Cursed Legacy

Chapter One

They say home is where the heart is. But what they don't tell you is that home can change. And everything about my home changed the night my brother was murdered.

I stood outside my childhood home, staring up at the moderate house. It was a stranger to me now. Rain fell, pattering against my jacket, but I ignored it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make my feet move. Couldn't shake the memories of the last time I'd been there. The fighting, the harsh words.

I looked up as the front door opened heavy footsteps in the hallway. Dean walked through the kitchen door, alone. That was the first sign I knew something was wrong.

Hi Dean, glad you could make it. my mom’s eyes lit up from where she sat at the kitchen table, an old recipe book open in front of her. My dad stood on the other side of the counter seasoning chicken for dinner. I sat at the counter, toying with the bracelet Ben gave me. Sometimes just touching it made me feel connected to him.

I have to tell you something, can you please sit down? Dean’s voice was low and shaky. I could see the gloss in his eyes before he let his head hang. This was the second sign I knew something was wrong.

What’s going on? My dad pulled out a chair, lowering into it cautiously. He didn’t even flinch as it squeaked against the floor. His face was pinched. Nervous.

Dean shook his head, inhaling sharply. Ben was found dead last night... his voice was brittle as it trailed off. He didn’t look up at us as his hand formed a fist on the table. I watched his body tremble as he exhaled.

The room was silent. So silent, I could hear the neighbors talking outside. Tears didn’t form in my eyes. I looked between my parents, who weren’t speaking but staring at each other intensely. One of their greatest powers was telepathy. They always used telepathy when they didn’t want me or Ben to hear what they were saying. As a child, I believed all parents could communicate through their minds, but later realized it was a magical thing, not a parent thing.

My dad shook his head; No. his voice was full of disbelief. We just spoke to him a couple days ago.

It’s true. I saw it with my own eyes, Dean hissed. We went our separate ways for a few hours, and when I doubled back... Squeezing his eyes closed, Dean jerked his head to the side. He cleared his throat roughly before looking at my parents.

Why didn’t you call us when it happened? my mother questioned in a low tone. She wasn’t crying. Her eyes were glued to Dean, pained.

I was busy keeping his body from the medical examiner. Last time I checked, families of magical descent had some serious irregularities on their autopsy reports.

I sighed, pressing my lips together, exhaling slowly. How did a medical examiner even get that close? Don’t you have precautions to follow?

Dean nodded, his eyes looked vacant. Yes, but I wasn’t following them exactly. I was busy trying to remove all evidence about the case from our motel room. Calling you was not my first thought. My instinct was to protect my partner.

He didn’t need you to protect him, my father replied quickly, his voice rising sharply.

Yes he did! Dean roared, slapping his hands on the table.

My father’s eyes widened, Did you do something to get him killed? he accused. He stood up, his body pushing the chair back. The sound was sharp and squeaky. I closed my eyes and turned my head. The sound always bothered me.

"Are you insane? How could you even suggest I would do something like that?" Dean rose from his chair. The sharp scraping sound made my clench my teeth.

You hated that he could put you on your ass with one flick of the hand my father hollered.

Wrong. I hated that he never used the gifts he was given. Because you made it seem like this horrible thing! Dean’s eyes bored into my father’s. Neither blinked, as if they were in a contest.

Get out! Get out of my house right now. And don’t you dare come back here! Dad yelled. He’s eyes went to my mother for a moment and then turned back to Dean. If you do, I will put you in the ground. His tone was dark. Serious.

Dean scowled before turning and rushing past me. I just stood there. Listening. The front door slammed. His door opened and closed, and the engine of his car roared to life. I listened hard until it was gone. He was the last person to see my brother alive and because of my father, I couldn’t even be close to him.

I shook myself out of the memory, exhaling. Pulling my jacket tighter around myself, I looked around at the other houses on the street. Lights shone from their windows making them look warm and inviting. The rain had begun to lighten up, but the wind was picking up more. My teeth chattered. I still couldn’t make myself go inside. I wanted to; I wanted to finally see Dean. He’d called over the past few months to check in, but every time he asked to meet, I came up with some reason to not be able to make it. It’s not that I didn’t want to see him; I just couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to face him. Besides having a crush on him, he was Ben’s best friend. The thought of seeing him after his last visit was more than a bit nerve racking.

The past few months had been some of the hardest in my life. Most nights I picked up the phone and dialed Ben’s number, hanging up after the first ring. There were so many things I wanted to share with him. So many times I needed his advice or wanted to hear him tell me about his most recent trip.

His room at our townhouse had been cleaned out just days after we’d received the news. My parents had insisted on coming over right away to help me clean it. Like I really needed the help. Ben hardly kept anything at home. I never thought living with my brother and best friend would be so great, but it was easy to live with them. Whether Ben was there or not, we had a routine.

I hated walking past his room. Zoe and I kept the door closed for a while, but with all of his stuff gone, that seemed silly. Eventually we turned it into a guest room and office. I’d needed a home office for my job, and it was nice to stretch out a bit instead of working from the cramped desk in my room.

I knew I couldn’t stand outside in the rain all night. Forcing my feet to move, I made my way to the front door. I could hear Dean’s voice from the other side, and it wasn’t a pleasant tone. I sighed, praying to whoever would listen that this didn’t turn into another scene like the last time.

He’s dead, don’t you understand that? Dean screamed from the kitchen, as I quietly shut the door behind me. I shook off my wet jacket hanging it with the others in the front foyer closet. Wiping my feet on the mat, I listened to my dad and Dean go at it again, just as they had months prior.

We don’t give a damn what you think about what killed him, we are not interested in going after it! my father yelled back. The tone in his voice forced me to halt in the middle of the hallway.

I just can’t understand why you two don’t want to find the monster that killed him. Dean’s voice cracked in disbelief.

How do you even know this was a monster? Maybe it was a human, my mother’s voice suggested. I could tell by her tone that she was already tired.

Dean laughed sardonically. Ben was smart, he wouldn’t have let a human get to him. You have no idea the kind of fighter he was.

I took this opportunity to leave the foyer and walk into the kitchen, hoping my presence would cool their tempers. Dean turned his head and looked at me, and my breath caught. In that moment, I regretted every time I’d denied seeing him. His eyes were sad, but I could feel excitement from him.

"Don’t you dare tell us that we didn’t know our son!" Dad screamed, lunging for Dean. But Dean was quicker and dodged out of my dad’s path.

Stop! The two of you have been arguing since the day Dean told us Ben had been killed! Enough! I cried, looking to my mother who just sat there staring into her cup of tea, as if my father and Dean weren’t even there. Like she was frozen in place. Immune to everything around her. "Mom, Dad, tell me exactly why neither of you care to find out who killed your son?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and stood in the doorway. I didn’t need to be an empath to know what Dean was feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut, opening them again a second later. His gaze met mine. His lips trembled, and his shoulders heaved with emotion.

Sometimes, being an empath felt more like a curse than a gift. But other times, it really helped me understand others better. I wasn’t so quick to judge people. Growing up I never understood why I had so many different emotions, until later when I realized what I truly was.

We just don’t want to bring that pain up, my mother said without looking up. I wasn’t buying it. How in the hell could she not? Her only son had died. Not only died, he was murdered.

"What if I want to find out who killed him? What if I need that closure?"

As soon as I’d said the words, it hit me. I did need that closure. I needed to know what had happened to him, so I could finally move on and live my life again.

I’m sorry Lily, but this is one of those things that you will never fully understand. Drop it, my dad commanded with no emotion. He looked to my mom, and she glanced up at him. They stared at each other and I knew they were talking. It was worse than whispering in my opinion.

I’m going after who killed Ben, Dean declared.

You won’t find them. Whoever or whatever killed him is long gone now. Or they’ve covered their tracks so well you won’t find out who. My mother didn’t even turn away from looking at my father, as she spoke. Her voice deadpan. So sure of her words. It twisted my stomach.

Watch me. Dean turned and stormed past me, heading down the hall toward the door. A sense of deja vu struck me as I spun on my heels and quickly followed him.

Wait! I cried before he could reach out to grab the doorknob. I rushed to squeeze myself between him and the door, refusing to let him leave like that again.

Lily...your brother was one of my best friends. He’s family to me. I have to do this.

I know. I’m coming with you, I blurted.

Come with me? Lily, do you realize how incredibly dangerous this is? His brows pulled together in confusion, his face tensed. No, Ben wouldn’t approve.

Ben’s not here! I snapped. And I don’t care if he would approve or not. I need to know what happened. And you're my only option. I tilted my head slightly to the side, biting the side of my lip, eyebrows raised. Unless of course you think it would be better if I go out on my own.

Fine. Meet me at this hotel tomorrow morning. He handed me a card before reaching around me and pulling open the door. The wood bumped against me, as did his body. I shivered, shifting to allow him to leave. He didn’t look back.

I looked at the card, my stomach twisting. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. It felt right though. Telling him I wanted to go with him.

My mother’s voice filtered down the hallway. I was so angry and upset with my parents that I fought to contain a scream. It wouldn’t help anyway; their decision wouldn’t change. Forgoing a return to the kitchen, I headed up the large staircase to the second floor, my fingers trailing the wooden railing until I reached the top. I stopped and stared at the only closed door in the hallway, Ben’s. No one had been inside since we got the news that he wouldn’t be coming home.

I gripped the knob and turned it slightly until the door slowly opened. I reached around the door frame and flicked the light on. I couldn’t bring myself to cross the threshold, so I just stared into the room. It felt empty and full at the same time.

His room was just how he’d left it. Messy, but organized. There wasn’t much left there, mostly things he hardly needed. Boxes were piled up against the wall from the townhouse. I slipped over to the stack of boxes. Taking a deep breath, I pulled one open and looked inside. A few books lay on top of one of his favorite hoodies. I couldn’t help myself; I grabbed them and walked out and next door to a room I used to call my own.

I gathered a few things I still had there and tossed them into a bag with what I took from Ben’s room. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be back, so I took a moment to soak in all the amazing memories I’d had growing up. Learning to control my powers. Telling Zoe I was a witch. Late night conversations with Ben. I flicked the switch for the lights and shut the door. Tears welled in my eyes, I didn’t want to leave, but this was needed. I needed this for my own sake and sanity.

I’m heading home, I told my parents as I entered the kitchen again. They were both sitting at the table now, staring at each other, whispering again.

I thought you were staying for dinner? Dad asked, his tone raised. He tore his eyes away from my mother. His hand holding hers across the table. They looked so in love and in tune with each other.

I was, but I think I would rather just go home, I’m not feeling much like a big dinner now. I didn’t even feel the slightest bit sorry for leaving them. Tonight I learned that despite the fact that