Then the door opened, and she felt it before she saw it. A bright ripple in her senses. Energy, sweet and ripe, stepped in wearing high-waisted jeans and a cropped hoodie—sunlight in human form. Blonde waves bounced as the girl laughed too loudly at something on her phone, weaving toward her friends like the room belonged to her.
Nineteen, maybe. College-stamped confidence. A body that turned heads and never noticed the weight of the stares. She smelled of perfume and bubblegum. Oblivious.
Kira watched, calm and unmoved. She knew girls like that. Girls who cut too deep without realizing it. Girls who didn’t think twice before humiliating someone quieter, someone softer, someone strange.
She reached into her clutch, fingertips brushing the edge of a small glass vial. Just enough. Her lips moved—not a chant, not quite. A thread of old words, bitter as wormwood, whispered into her drink. The candle in her bag warmed. The charm on her wrist glowed once, then faded.
The girl laughed again, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
Kira smiled, slow and deliberate. The curse was already at work. No need for fireworks. No screaming. Just a slow unraveling.
She tipped back the rest of her drink and vanished into the night, leaving only the faintest whiff of smoke and a bad feeling the blonde girl wouldn’t be able to shake.