The Curse Breakers

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The Curse Breakers Page 11

by Denise Grover Swank


  “No. It’s better.”

  “You brought me red velvet cake.”

  “It’s not cake! It’s better than cake.”

  “There’s nothing better than cake, so I’ll have to be the judge of that when I get there.”

  When I got to Claire’s, I knocked on the door. “I’m in the bedroom!” she shouted, loud enough for me to hear her from outside.

  When I reached her room, I pushed the partially open door wide and gasped. Claire was standing in the middle of her room wearing her wedding dress.

  She lifted the sides of her skirt and dropped it with a fluff. “Well, what do you think?”

  “That you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.” And she was. Her satin dress was a halter style with a short train and scattered appliqués around the waist and bodice. It was simple but elegant. So her.

  “Who would have thought I’d get married first? You were always the one who wanted a husband and kids.”

  My mouth twisted into a sideways grimace. “I know. Go figure.” Then I realized how awful that sounded. “But I’m so happy for you. I hope you don’t think I’m not.”

  Claire grabbed my hands in hers. “Don’t worry, Ellie. You’ll find the right guy. I know it. I have a feeling he’s right around the corner.”

  I nodded, but given the ins and outs of my current situation, I knew it was unlikely. “Well, this will be your big day, and you’ll be so gorgeous that it won’t matter if I wear a gunnysack standing next to you. So I retract my protests about the dress.”

  Her face broke into a wide grin. “That’s the surprise.” She grabbed a dress swathed in a plastic bag from the closet and handed it to me. “Surprise!”

  I took the garment bag. “Is this my dress?”

  “Open it.”

  I laid the bag on the bed and unzipped it, gasping when I saw the green satin fabric. “It’s not orange.”

  “Nope, it’s emerald green. You look so pretty in that color. And the halter top will make your tits look amazing.”

  I ignored that comment. “But you ordered orange dresses. And your sister . . .”

  “It’s my wedding, and I can do what I want.” She smirked. “You’ve had a shitty few weeks, and if this dress makes you even the tiniest bit happy, then . . .” Her voice trailed off as she shrugged.

  “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “Try it on.”

  I went into the bathroom and put on the silky dress, which clung to my curves and flared at my calves. It was a similar style to Claire’s, only a different color and not appliquéd. And Claire was right about the V neckline showing off my cleavage. When I walked into the bedroom, she was sitting on her bed, still wearing her wedding dress.

  “You’re beautiful.” She pulled back the hair from my face. “I think you should wear your hair down in the back but pulled up in the front. The auburn looks great against the green.”

  “Thanks, Claire.” My eyes burned and I blinked. I knew the fit her sister would throw.

  “I got a deal on it, so think nothing of it.” She hopped up off the bed. “You can take it to the bridal shop in Nags Head and see if you need alterations.” Turning around, she lifted her hair. “Unzip me. I need to take this off before Drew gets home. We need all the luck we can get with the craziness going on around here.”

  I grabbed the zipper and pulled it down. “Are you still going to help me get my car?”

  “What? Was the homeless guy busy?”

  “Very funny.”

  After we changed, we headed for the garage and I realized I hadn’t talked to Claire all day. “You won’t believe what happened this morning.”

  “You got laid?”

  “Claire.” But I knew she was just trying to make me feel better. I still hadn’t told her how close I’d come to following through with Collin the night before, and I didn’t plan to. “No. Get your mind out of the gutter. One of Myra’s researcher guests is Dr. Preston from UNC.”

  She sat up and turned to me. “The one we went to see? You’ve got to be kidding!”

  I shook my head. “He asked about the symbols on the doors.”

  Claire’s face lit up with excitement. “This is good! Did you tell him?”

  “No. He said he’ll be here for two weeks, and I don’t want to do anything to scare him off. But Becky came in talking about the giant horned snake and the animal that’s been eating dogs’ hearts, and it got his attention. I’m hoping he might be ready to talk to me tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “I told Myra I’d help in the main house in the afternoons and evenings. I did a shift at Darrell’s today so I didn’t get a chance to finish fixing up their rooms.”

  “Is the big snake in Wanchese the one we saw in the wildlife refuge?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Was that really you in the story I’ve been hearing?”

  I grimaced and twisted my neck to look at her. “What did you hear?”

  “That some guy was raping a woman he found by the docks, and the snake ate him.”

  “It was me, but that’s not what happened. The rape part, anyway.”

  She sank back into her seat. “I should hope not. You would tell me about something like that, right?”

  What kind of world had I descended into that nearly getting raped had fallen to the bottom of my list of concerns? “If I got raped, you’d be the first person to know.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t entirely the truth either. I had to accept that and push the guilt aside. Things were only going to get worse.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Claire drove my car to my apartment. I changed before I dumped my laundry in the backseat and drove her home before heading back to the inn. My apartment didn’t have a washer and dryer, so I used the commercial units at the inn. One benefit of working without pay.

  We kept the small kitchen in the guest house stocked with drinks and a few snacks for the guests, so I set up some snacks and drinks at the main house too. I’d changed all the linens and freshened the bathrooms earlier, so after straightening a few things up, I had nothing left to do but wait.

  I found myself standing in the doorway to Daddy’s office. I wondered for the umpteenth time where he could have hidden his notes about the curse. I didn’t even know what I was looking for. A notebook? A journal? Folded papers? Claire and I had looked through all the drawers and obvious places, but what about the less obvious ones? Daddy had never been an overly suspicious person before he started losing his memories. But as his sickness spread its roots, he had become paranoid. He could have hidden his notes during one of his delusional states.

  The office still seemed the most obvious place to look. Maybe the actual hiding spot was really obscure. I lifted a large framed map of Roanoke Island off the wall and examined the back for any signs of tampering, then moved on to the next picture. I removed five pictures from the wall, stacking them in a pile, and then turned to the bookcases. What if he’d hidden something behind the books?

  I removed a big stack from the middle shelf on the end case and set them on the desk. Once I had the shelf cleared off, I felt around the back of it for any indentations or bulges.

  “Looking for something?”

  Startled, I bumped my head on the shelf above as I whirled around.

  Dr. David Preston stood in the doorway.

  He was gorgeous, only he didn’t seem to flaunt it. I suddenly felt warm all over. He was over six feet tall, with dark wavy hair and broad shoulders. He came across as a man who was confident enough in his intelligence that his looks were a side bonus. Plus he had that sexy accent. It was an intoxicating blend. I could see why he had to fight off the undergrads at UNC.

  I rubbed my forehead. “Oh, hi, Dr. Preston. I didn’t realize you were back.”

  He smiled. “Call me David. Please. I insist on doctor or professor at the university to keep some of the students in line, but it feels so pretentious off campus. And I’m back because the section of t
he colony I’m most interested in was temporarily closed. The others are still working.” He paused. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

  “Me?” Why did that make me nervous? That was a good thing.

  He took several steps into the room, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was quite rude to you when you came to Chapel Hill. I’d like to apologize.”

  “Oh.” I leaned my hip against the desk. “I’m sure I caught you off guard.”

  “Yeah. You asked some unexpected questions.” He glanced over his shoulder, as if making sure we were alone. “You didn’t answer me this morning, you know. I recognize several of the symbols on the doors. Why are they there?”

  I stared at him for several seconds before I sighed. He didn’t waste any time. But he recognized some of the symbols, giving me hope that he could actually help. “The less you know, the better. But I’d really like it if you could talk to me about the Croatan.”

  He gave me a lopsided grin. “Do you really expect a researcher to be presented with something so intriguing without wanting to know everything?”

  I couldn’t tell him everything. In spite of the mounting evidence that supernatural forces were rocking the island, I was sure he’d think I was crazy. Besides, the fewer people who knew, the better.

  “Do you need help?” he asked, staring at the pile of books. “I take it you’re looking for something.”

  I fumbled for an answer.

  “Your stepmother told me that your father had an extensive library about all things Roanoke. I can look at the titles while I help you search for whatever it is you’re seeking. And I’ll answer your questions. At least all the ones I can answer.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “If I help you, maybe you’ll appease my curiosity.”

  I ran my fingers though my hair in frustration as I surveyed the room. He already knew I was looking for answers. That’s why I had come to his office. “The day my father died, he told me that he wrote down some information that I need and hid it somewhere. Only he neglected to tell me where exactly he hid it. I’ve searched this room several times without finding anything, so I decided to try ripping it apart. I’m running out of time.”

  “What happens when you run out of time?”

  I turned my back to him and repressed a groan.

  “Okay, so you don’t feel comfortable telling me what happens when you run out of time. How about this: Are you looking for information about the symbols?”

  I hesitated. “I hope. Among other things.”

  “Can I look at your photo again?”

  “The one on my phone?” I asked. “Aren’t you worried about me flashing you a naked picture of myself?”

  He laughed. “You’d be surprised by how many I’ve seen.”

  “It must be a real burden,” I teased, grabbing my phone off the desk and pulling up my photo app.

  “It’s a pain in the arse.”

  He was serious. I couldn’t help thinking that Collin would eat it up if women showed him naked photos of themselves. At least until I showed up. Would he change his ways now that our souls were joined? Probably not. They had all been meaningless before me, so why would it be any different now? Collin was right about one thing: his feelings had been laid bare when our marks touched. I had meant something to him—I still did. It just wasn’t enough.

  “Ellie?”

  I looked up, mentally shaking myself. I still hadn’t handed him the phone. “Sorry. I’ve been a little scattered lately.”

  “Since the colony reappeared?”

  “You have no idea.” I regretted the words the moment they fell out of my mouth—they were bound to pique his interest even more.

  “Can I ask when you first started putting marks on the doors?”

  The more cooperative I was with him, the more cooperative he might be with me. I just had to be careful. I always let things slip when I was tired, and I was beyond my usual state of exhaustion.

  “Around the time the colony appeared,” I replied. Collin had first marked my door the night he broke the curse, but I wasn’t about to say that to this guy.

  “Why?”

  I lifted my eyebrows and handed him my phone. “I answered your question, now you can answer mine. What does it mean?”

  He moved beside me and rested his backside against the desk as he lifted the phone for a closer look. “You said this tattoo is henna?”

  “Yes.”

  He grimaced. “I wish I had my reading glasses. Thirty-one years old and I need reading glasses. I feel like an old man.”

  David was about the furthest thing from an old man I’d ever seen, but it didn’t seem wise to mention that.

  “I have some.” I moved around to the back of the desk and grabbed a pair from the top drawer. “Here. They were Daddy’s.”

  He perched them on his nose and studied the photo, moving the image a little closer so he could see it better. “Like I told you, they’re symbols for forces of nature. I’ve never seen them put together in this type of an arrangement, but that doesn’t mean anything.” He looked up from the screen and over the frames. “You asked if the symbols were like our alphabet, and the answer that I so rudely withheld is no, they aren’t.”

  “But Okeus’s mark in the middle. Would it mark the person bearing the symbol as belonging to Okeus?”

  He pulled the glasses off, lowering his hand to his side while he still cradled my phone in the other. “Belonging? I’ve never heard of the Algonquians marking themselves to belong to Okeus, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility. They often made sacrifices to him.”

  “But not Ahone?”

  “No. From what little we know, the Algonquians believed that Ahone didn’t interact much with the human world.”

  “So if someone put Okeus’s symbol on their body, would it protect them from Okeus or claim them for Okeus?”

  He was silent for several seconds, and I could tell he was searching for the answer. “I don’t know. I’m guessing claim them. But again, I’ve never heard of that being done.”

  “What about Ahone? What is his symbol?” Butterflies threatened to explode from my stomach.

  His eyes narrowed as he studied me. “I’m not sure.”

  “Please, Dr. Preston. This is important.”

  “Why?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  His voice softened. “You’re running out of time. Okay.” He studied the phone for several seconds. “The symbols on this tattoo are very similar to the ones on the doors. Can you tell me why they’re there?”

  It seemed like a small favor to grant. “Protection.”

  “Against what?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He sighed and handed me the phone, then placed Daddy’s glasses on the desk. “Off hand, I don’t know the mark for Ahone. Frankly, I’m surprised I remember Okeus’s. But he is much more prominent in the few stories we’ve gathered. The Native Americans said he was the god who walked among them.”

  I snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me.” That had proven true from my experiences as well.

  He grabbed my right hand, and I resisted the urge to pull back. He spread my fingers open, revealing the mark on my palm. “What’s this?”

  “What’s it look like?”

  His eyebrows rose as he stared up at me. “Are you always this defensive?”

  I forced my shoulders to relax. “I didn’t used to be.”

  “But things have been crazy over the last few weeks?”

  I gave him a soft smile. He’d thrown my words back at me. “Yeah.”

  “This town must have been chaos when the village first appeared. I bet it’s like when Kennedy was assassinated and 9/11. People here will always remember what they were doing when it happened.”

  He still held my hand, examining my mark. I didn’t answer, wondering why his touch made me feel equally tense and relaxed.

  “What were you doing when you heard, Ellie?”

  “Um
. . .” Why did he want to know? Idle curiosity? I doubted it, but I also saw no harm in answering. “I’m a waitress at the New Moon restaurant a couple of blocks away. I was working the lunch shift when the manager of Kitty Hawk Kites came in and told us.”

  “Roanoke is such an important part of your life here in Manteo that it had to be traffic-stopping news. What was the first thing that came to mind when you heard the Lost Colony was no longer lost?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged in frustration.

  “Yes you do. What was it?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  A devilish grin crossed his face. “Indulge me.”

  “I thought we’d get more tourists and would have to increase our shifts.”

  “What else?”

  I shot him an irritated look. I couldn’t tell him that I’d almost passed out when I heard the news, that it had confirmed the curse.

  “Do you know what I thought?”

  “What?”

  “That this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get a look at a remarkably well-preserved archaeological site.” He lifted my hand again. “These are the symbols for the spiritual and earthly planes. They intersect. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t design it.”

  “Who did?”

  My eyebrows rose, and I gave him a stubborn look.

  “When did you get it? This one isn’t henna, is it?”

  “No.”

  “It had to hurt like bollocks. I can honestly say I’ve never met someone with a tattoo on their palm.”

  “I’m one of a kind.”

  He studied me again, with a different kind of interest this time. “I suspect that you are, Ellie Lancaster.”

  A warm tingle spread throughout my abdomen. Focus, Ellie.

  His hand still cradled mine. “What caused the scar? It’s a perfect diagonal across the symbol, and it looks fresh.”

  “I thought you had a PhD in history, not an MD.”

  He laughed. “It doesn’t mean I don’t recognize a knife slash when I see one.” He looked up, his playfulness fading. “Was it a self-defense wound?”

  I jerked my hand from his. He was too smart for his own good. “No. It wasn’t from self-defense.”

 

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