“I don’t know, the way Lydia was going after that pimento cheese,” said Cooper, but his face sobered when he saw my scowl. “Sorry. Bad time to joke. Maybe you should call Wendy, too. If she’s not sick herself, she might have some ideas about what went wrong with the spell.”
But Wendy was sick. At least she didn’t seem to have it as bad as Lydia—whatever it was, although I no longer had any doubt that we could safely call it a curse. For Wendy that meant only a little vomiting and nausea, and a lot of fatigue. Caleb told me she was sound asleep.
That left Cooper and I more-or-less alone to deal with what was happening. And it started happening fast, after that.
Lance and Agatha might not have been much help on the supernatural side of things, but they were able to provide practical support, at least. It was Agatha who went to check on Ian Foley later that afternoon.
Score one point for me: Ian did indeed get better within an hour of going back to his room. But it seemed the rest of my spell wasn’t strong enough to protect the Foley family.
Little Jake got sick shortly after his brother did, and got steadily worse until finally, worried about dehydration, Andrea Foley called an ambulance. She went with her youngest son to the hospital, while her husband Jerry—who was well and truly sick himself, by then—stayed behind in their room with Ian.
By then we had about a dozen guests, that we knew of, suffering from the same illness. Even Lance was starting to believe in dark magic and ill will.
And yet, the list of people who weren’t sick—myself included—was as confounding as the list of people who were. Cooper and I were in Lance’s office, just starting to put together some notes on who had fallen ill, where they’d gone, what they’d eaten, and anything else we could think of that might reveal a pattern to the curse, when Lance got a call from the front desk: Asher Glass was there.
Cooper insisted on coming with me and Lance to meet him. “I don’t like that guy,” he said. “He seemed especially spiteful.”
“Believe me,” I said as we descended the stairs, “he is that.”
Asher was leaning against the front desk, wearing his uniform and the smirkiest of smirks.
“I’d suggest you close to new guests until we can get this straightened out,” he said. “I’ve called in the health inspectors to investigate.”
“Investigate what?” I asked. “Surely not the hotel. This looks like food poisoning.”
“The Cask & Barrel didn’t open until five today,” Lance added. “Well after the first folks got sick. And they’re the only restaurant we have operational right now.”
“None of the sick people we’ve identified thus far ate at the same place,” said Asher. “The only thing they have in common is being guests here.”
“Wendy Thaggard is sick, and she’s not a guest,” I said.
“But she was here earlier today,” said Asher. “You’re friends, you two?”
“We are,” I said. “But as you can see, I’m fine, and Lance and Cooper here are fine. And so are you, I notice.”
Asher gave me a flirtatious smile that once would have made me melt, and now made me swallow bile. “Why, thank you for noticing,” he said.
Beside me, Cooper tensed and made a warning noise in his throat. I had the satisfaction of seeing Asher’s smile falter, just a tiny bit, before he recovered.
“We also have a couple hundred guests here who aren’t sick,” said Lance.
Asher shrugged. “The Mount Phearson is still the only common denominator.” He leaned forward, as if imparting a secret. “You know, we lost five people a few years back to some unidentified environmental cause. Scared a lot of people. Sure would be bad news for you if we had a repeat of something like that.”
“And did it have anything to do with the Mount Phearson then?” I asked.
“One of them was a guest here,” Asher said with another shrug. “One was a friend of Madeline Underwood’s, spent a fair amount of time here. But they never did figure out what was causing it.”
No, I’ll just bet they didn’t.
No doubt it was a magical cause then, and a magical cause now. I wanted to punch Asher, gouge at his eyes, scream and rail and demand to know what he and his evil friends had done. But I knew it would only please him to get a rise out of me, and do me no good.
We spent most of the evening going from room to room, talking to the traveling companions of the sick guests, taking notes. Then Cooper and I went back to my suite and went over what we knew.
What did the victims of this curse have in common? They weren’t staying in the same area of the building. They weren’t the same age or gender. They hadn’t all gone to the same restaurant, or done the same things.
But they all left.
Not everyone who’d left the Mount Phearson since the Garden Club had paid their visit was sick. Andrea Foley was fine, and so was Phineas. So there was more to it than I understood, yet.
But one thing was certain: everyone who had gotten sick had been there during the attack—been there to be cursed—and then left.
While everyone who’d missed it entirely was healthy. And everyone who’d stayed in the building all day was likewise fine.
All are safe at the Mount Phearson Hotel.
But that’s as far as my protection can go.
Balls.
I looked at Cooper, and nodded as I saw the same realization dawning in his face.
“You can’t leave,” I said. “They’ve got you trapped here.”
Cooper went back to his own room shortly after he realized our safe haven had become a prison, obviously angry, but having said very little.
I supposed this was Wick’s endgame all along; not just to spook us or test our defenses, but to ensure that when Cooper left the Mount Phearson, he’d be weak and vulnerable. Easy prey. It was even possible that whatever magic Marjory and her coven had worked was more dangerous for Cooper’s kind than the humans it had affected.
I didn’t know, and right then I didn’t much care. The bigger questions would have to wait. What mattered was safeguarding as many people as possible. I warned Lance and Agatha not to leave the property, and offered free rooms for the night to the other staff members who’d been working at the time of the attack. Some of the latter looked at me like I was a lunatic, but a lot of them were locals, who were more likely to believe in curses than your average person. Several took me up on it.
But there was no warning the guests, not in any way they were likely to believe. I would just have to count on the general tendency of hotel guests to go out and do things during the day. Most likely, there hadn’t been too many more around when we were cursed than the ones we already knew about.
In any case, there was only so much prevention I could do. What we really needed was a cure. As soon as I was back in my room again, I called Phineas despite the late hour. He’d seemed pretty confident he could heal his wife. Maybe he’d made some headway.
“How is Lydia?” I asked.
“She’d be better if they would let me take her out of this damn hospital and tend to her myself,” he said. “They’re giving her fluids and all that, but they’re not going to be able to cure this.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think there’s any question at this point that it’s a curse.”
“No, there isn’t,” I agreed, and told him how things stood in Bristol. I also asked if he knew anything about the deaths a couple of years ago, the ones Asher had mentioned.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” said Phineas. “Enough to tell you with confidence that Officer Glass was just trying to freak you out by bringing it up now. It was a completely different situation.”
“But it was supernatural,” I said.
“It was, but it was part of a specific ritual, to get a new body for a ghost.”
That was bizarre enough to momentarily distract me. “Seriously? I had no idea such a thing was even possible.”
“It’s not pretty, I can tell you that.”
“My fa
ther had something to do with it, I assume.”
“Him, Madeline Underwood. The usual suspects.”
I sighed. “But it was nothing like this curse. There’s nothing you know about it that might help us now?”
“Nope. Totally different thing. And that’s a good thing, by the way. Don’t worry, we won’t let anyone die from this one.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing how selfish I was being. “I should be the one reassuring you right now, not the other way around. Is there anything I can do to help? I’ll write a spell for her tonight, in case it has any influence. For all of them.” I doubted it was really my spell that had made Ian Foley better so quickly, but it couldn’t hurt to try
“Thank you,” Phineas said. “I’ll take whatever power you can throw our way. I’m trying to sneak something to her that will make her well enough to at least be released. Once I get her home, I’ll be able to deal with it for real.”
“How close to home were you when it happened?”
“About an hour away. And I had to have the car towed. But it’s easy enough to rent one.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I’d come to help, but I’m kind of trapped in this hotel.”
“You can’t leave anyway, with all those sick guests. And stop apologizing, it’s not your fault.”
“That’s an interesting definition of fault you have,” I said.
“Hey, we’ve been in worse situations than this, believe me,” said Phineas. “I’ll figure it out. It’s all going to be fine.”
He agreed to call me the second he knew anything more, or if Lydia’s condition changed, and we hung up. After that, there wasn’t much I could do but go to bed, and hope things looked better in the morning.
I waited a while, after I turned out the light, but no spiders showed up that I could see. I spoke out loud anyway, just in case Max was listening through them.
“Thank you, Max, for asking your friends to help me. Sorry I got them hurt.”
No matter what Phineas said, it was all my fault, and I knew it. If not mine, whose? Lydia and Wendy would both be safe and healthy if they hadn’t come. And why had they done that in the first place? Because someone else who’d suffered because of me had sent them.
Devilborn. I wasn’t exactly a bringer of light.
But more than that, I was the one who came up with our strategy. I was the one who insisted the Wicks and the Garden Club not be harmed, that the protection spell not be broken. And look where it had gotten me.
Unfortunately, I was to find that Cooper shared that opinion.
I went to see him the next morning, but first I called The Witch’s Brew. “How’s Wendy today?” I asked Caleb.
“Just resting. She doesn’t have it so bad,” he said. “Whatever it is. And she’s got her Granny working on a cure.”
“You let me know if Granny finds anything, will you?”
“You bet.”
“Well, I’m selfishly glad to find you open, anyway,” I said. “I may need a peace offering.”
“Just pulled some chocolate donuts out of the oven.”
“Perfect.”
I sent a staff member (a safe one, who’d been off the day before) out to pick up the donuts and some coffee. But even so armed, I hesitated outside Cooper’s door. I wondered if he’d even open it.
He did, but he didn’t look especially happy to see me. He wore a pair of jeans without a shirt or socks, and damn if he didn’t look good.
“Good morning.” I sidled past him and into the room without waiting for a return greeting.
I set the bag and cup carrier from The Witch’s Brew down on his desk, where his laptop was open and on. I got a glimpse of the screen, then did a double take and leaned closer.
“Seriously? This is what you’re doing?”
It was an online dating site. A beautiful blonde smiled up at me, her perky blue eyes shining. Megan loved kayaking, ballroom dancing, and Thai food.
Cooper had the message window open, and seemed to be writing to break a date:
This really sucks, but I can’t make it. I’ve got this crazy work thing that I just can’t get out of. So I’m stuck for a while, but I’ll be in touch soon. Can’t wait to see you.
Balls, was I the crazy work thing he was stuck with? Of course I was.
Cooper came to stand beside me. “Verity, I’d like you to meet my father.”
I blinked at him, trying not to show how hard I’d just taken the phrase can’t wait to see you. “You what? What will Megan think about us being at the meet-the-parents stage?”
He gave me a small smile, not quite the one he normally used to charm everyone. But then, it seemed he wasn’t interested in charming me.
“No, I mean, right now.” He gestured at Megan’s pretty face. “That is my father. This is how we talk. The message lets him know that I’m safe but I’ve been… detained.”
“Oh!” My relief made the apology I’d been planning come out a bit less solemn than I intended. “Well, I’m sorry you’re stuck here. But I had no way of knowing what they’d do. And I did bring donuts.” I gestured at the bag.
“No, you didn’t know what they’d do,” Cooper agreed. He ignored the donuts, which I took as a bad sign. “But letting them just roam around here freely was a stupid risk.”
I half-laughed, then realized he wasn’t joking. “Well. Points for being direct, I guess.”
“I tried it your way,” he said. “I played your defensive game. And we lost. So now it’s time to give my game a try.”
“Meaning what?”
“Offense,” he said simply, and this time, he gave me the trademark Cooper Blackwood smile.
“I don’t—”
“Verity.” He grabbed my hands, his words coming fast and intense now. “We won’t ever get another opportunity like this. The hotel, this town, the people in it. There’s power here. Wick wants it, but that can work both ways. We can fight him in Bristol. We can beat him once and for all. If he wants a war, let’s give him one. Let’s end the threat.”
“You mean kill him.”
“I mean kill the whole clan. I mean end the threat. Completely.”
I tried not to show how it chilled me, to hear him talk so baldly of murder. But then, war wasn’t murder. This was how it was for him. It was his clan or theirs.
But what about the rest of us?
“You keep saying we,” I said. “Who is that, exactly? You and the rest of the Blackwoods? Or you and me?”
“All of us.”
“Cooper…”
He dropped my hands, and his eyes grew shuttered in a way that made my heart sink. “Cooper, what?”
I swallowed, trying to choose my words. I didn’t want to disappoint him again. But I had more than myself to think of now. Somehow, suddenly, I had all of Bristol.
He was probably right; we probably could recruit some people to fight for him. Wick wanted the town, after all, and we would have to defend it somehow. But was it fair to ask them to risk their lives to help the Blackwoods win an old feud from another world?
“Defending Bristol is one thing,” I said finally. “We’ll find a way to get Wick out of here. But as for your war… it isn’t ours.”
He glared at me. “Don’t start that shit again. This is your war now. They’ve brought it to your door.”
“You’ve brought it to my door!”
“So help me win it! No more of this defense-only bullshit!”
“That was a smart plan!”
“It was a safe plan!” Cooper was almost shouting now. “Your favorite kind!”
I squared my shoulders and crossed my arms. “What are you talking about, my favorite kind? Of all the presumptuous, judgmental… you barely even know me!”
“I know I asked for your help back in Lenox. I know I asked you to come with me. But you wanted no part of my fight. Of any fight.”
“But I got one anyway, didn’t I, thanks to you!”
“And that just kills you, doesn’
t it?” He jabbed his finger toward me. “You can’t stand it, having to get involved in something besides yourself!”
I stared at him. “Did you just call me selfish?”
“You’re the definition of it! I saw you yesterday, barking orders, making plans, working magic. You’ve got talent and power. But you refuse to rise to the occasion. Not if you can help it.”
Cooper sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was still standing close enough that I could smell his soap-and-pepper smell, close enough to touch. Or smack.
“And I saw you in Spare Oom, too,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost sad. “Eating by yourself in the office every day. Always with a book in your hand. Never socializing.”
“Is that what this is really about?” I asked. “The fact that I wasn’t part of your little fan club?”
“It’s about being part of the world. You have to connect, you have to engage. And like it or not, that means sometimes you have to fight. Especially someone like you.”
“What do you mean, like me? Because I’m half-human? A witch? A freak?”
Devilborn.
“Because you’re extraordinary,” Cooper said simply. “And I think you know that.”
“Seriously?” I laughed, and not just for effect. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “You’re trying to guilt me into risking not only myself but this whole hotel, this whole town, with some line about being extraordinary?”
“You are,” he said, and his face betrayed nothing, no softness in his eyes to suggest he admired what he saw in me. Only the burden of expectation.
“Oh, I agree with you,” I said, not caring how my voice shook. “I am extraordinary. But has it really not occurred to you that everything special about me came from a demonic serial killer? So excuse the fuck out of me for not embracing that!”
And then he did the last thing I expected: broke into a wide smile.
I struggled not to smile back. “What?”
“First time I’ve heard you swear.”
It might have been a sweet moment. One to say something cute and clever, maybe, to ease the hostilities. Had I not instead chosen it to blurt, “Why did you kiss me the other night?”
Cooper took a step back from me and looked away. “I was wondering whether that would come up. I should apologize.”
Grim Haven (Devilborn Book 1) Page 13
