The Curse Keepers (Curse Keepers series)

by Swank, Denise Grover

  “I don’t trust you to not get killed. Spirits are on the loose, and they don’t want to return to where they came from. They know we plan to send them back and they’ll do anything they can to keep that from happening.”

  My breath caught in my chest. “And the only thing that can send them back is us,” I wheezed out. I hadn’t considered that aspect. How would the spirits even know who we were? How did one defend oneself against an angry spirit? I wasn’t about to ask the angry human in front of me.

  He looked grim. “While I think you’re an irresponsible slacker, unfortunately, I need you. So get whatever you need and let’s go.”

  Was he suggesting we’d be gone for the next six days or only for the evening? “To the pawnshop?”

  A disgusted look crossed his face. “No, the moon. Of course the pawnshop. Are you always this dense?”

  “Are you always this rude?”

  He shrugged.

  I could have countered but what was the point? I left Collin at the door and grabbed my purse. I wished I had time to talk to Daddy. But that would only help if he was having a good day, and those were becoming rarer and rarer. Wishing was wasted effort, something I’d learned years ago, on a cold stormy night when I was eight years old. Instead of wishing, I was putting my life in the hands of the stranger in front of me.

  Why did I worry that I’d live to regret it?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I climbed into Collin’s beat-up pickup truck, wrinkling my nose as I shut the rickety door. The windows were down and the red vinyl seats were hot and tacky. I was putting my life into his hands with all the curse nonsense, and apparently that also meant I’d literally be putting my life in his hands with this rust bucket. “We can take my car. Really.”

  The engine sputtered, and he turned to me and smirked. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

  Why did I think his words had a double meaning?

  The truck jerked backward as I tried to fasten my seatbelt. “Can you wait?”

  “No. We don’t have time to waste.” He pulled onto Sir Walter Raleigh Street and I cast a glance at the inn as we passed by. Myra’s car wasn’t parked next to the house, not that I expected her to be there. I hoped Daddy’s home care nurse could stay longer. If I wasn’t working at the New Moon, I usually filled in for Myra when she couldn’t get home in time.

  I turned my attention to the road. I didn’t want to explain Daddy’s situation to Collin. A wave of melancholy washed over me as I tried to remember Daddy as the vibrant man I knew from before my mother’s death, but it was so long ago that the memory had become fuzzy. I definitely did my best to block out the year after her death. Mostly what I remembered of Daddy pre-Alzheimer’s was after Myra came into our lives, filling our days with hope and love. I preferred not to think of Daddy as the broken shell he was now, and I didn’t like others thinking about him that way either. The man with the vacant stare wasn’t my Daddy.

  “Well?” Collin asked.

  I shook myself out of my stupor. “What?”

  “So where are we going?” Collin asked.

  “Kill Devil Hills.”

  His eyebrows rose as he turned to look at me. “Kill Devil Hills?”

  I shrugged, staring out the windshield. “I didn’t want anyone in town to know that I pawned it.”

  His mouth pursed, and his brow wrinkled in disapproval. I shouldn’t care one way or the other what he thought, but to my annoyance, I did. Still, Collin Dailey didn’t get to stand in judgment of me. He didn’t know what I’d been through.

  “So if my relic is a pewter cup and yours is a wooden bowl, what does that mean?”

  Collin shifted in his seat and he gripped the steering wheel. “We use them in the ceremony.”

  I’d already gathered that part. “I don’t know anything about the ceremony—”

  “That’s a surprise.”

  “So we get the relics, we perform the ceremony, and we shut the gate.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  He shot me a nasty grin. “Not really.”

  I was going to see Daddy the minute I got back. I’d learn to perform the damn ceremony without Collin Fucking Dailey. Well, maybe I couldn’t perform it without him, but if I knew more about the curse I wouldn’t be so dependent on him for answers. I got the sense that he’d only dole out information on a need-to-know basis. “So, if we can’t get my relic back, can we use something else?”

  “We could try, but I doubt it would work.”

  My stomach twisted. “I really hope the cup is still there.”

  “Wait. How long was the contract for? Ninety days, right? So then you have an additional sixty to pay it off.”

  I glanced at my lap and twisted the hem of my T-shirt.

  “Ellie?” Collin sounded desperate. “Tell me the contract was for ninety days.”

  I suddenly found the dirty gas station at the corner fascinating. “I could, but that would be a lie.”

  “How long was the contract for?” His voice was strained as his knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel turned white.

  “Thirty days.”

  “And when exactly did you pawn it?”

  I bit my lip. “Let’s just say my time is up.”

  Collin pulled onto the highway and with the windows down, it became too loud to carry on a conversation without shouting, although I was pretty sure that Collin felt like yelling anyway.

  Every time I left the island my chest tightened and today was no exception. The waves crashing in the sound calmed my rising anxiety, and I focused on their rhythm as Collin drove over the bridge linking Roanoke Island to the Outer Banks and then north through Nags Head and toward Kill Devil Hills.

  June was high tourist season, and the traffic was brutal. We sat at a few stoplights in Nags Head, the heat near stifling in the unair-conditioned truck cab. Collin’s face was expressionless. It was hard to tell if he was still irritated with me or if he was stewing in silence. Still, the silence drove me batty. I couldn’t stand quiet, and the rumble of car engines around us didn’t count.

  I put my elbow on the edge of the open truck window and snatched it back inside when I made contact with the hot metal. Rubbing my tender skin, I turned to face him. “So where’s your wooden bowl?”

  He hesitated. “Somewhere safe.”

  “If it’s safe, then I know it’s not in this truck.”

  To my surprise, the corners of his mouth lifted into the barest hint of a smile.

  “So where is it?”

  His smile fell.

  The truth dawned on me, and I sat up in excitement. “You’re not telling me because you don’t have it!” So much for Mr. Smugpants.

  His eyebrows rose in disapproval. This look had become all too familiar in the short twenty-four hours or so I’d known him. “While it’s not in my immediate possession, I do know where it is.”

  “And I know where mine is, yet you had a hissy fit over it.”

  He shook his head with a smirk. “No, you have no idea if your cup is at the pawnshop or not.”

  “So where’s your magical bowl?”

  He paused. “Safe.”

  “You said that already. Safe where?”

  “The North Carolina Outer Banks Museum in Morehead City.”

  “A museum? What? Has your family loaned it to them?”

  “Something like that. And it’s safe behind glass in a display case. Who knows where yours is?”

  His explanation sounded perfectly logical, but he wouldn’t look at me. He was hiding something. He said, “Your pawnshop is in Kill Devil Hills?”

  Way to change the topic, Collin. I’d let it go for now and pull this out later when I needed leverage. “It’s not my pawnshop, and I already told you that the cup was there. The place is just off the highway. On the western side.”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, and I was glad that we made it with an hour to spare before the shop closed at six. I took a deep breath a
nd I opened the door to the store, praying that the cup would still be there.

  “Hey, Ellie!” Oscar called from behind the counter.

  Collin leaned toward me with a smirk. “Not your pawnshop, huh?”

  I shot him a glare. “It’s like Cheers here. Oscar knows everyone’s name.”

  “You know his name?”

  “Shut up.” I left him at the door and approached the store owner, dread burrowing in my gut. “Hey, Oscar, how’s it going?”

  “Not too bad, Ellie. Business has been picking up after all that Hurricane Noreen mess.”

  I stopped across from the burly man who stood on the other side of the case. Oscar was probably in his late forties or early fifties and had a full head of graying brown hair that went past his shoulders. He sported a bushy beard that rivaled the frizzy mess of hair hanging down his back. Rumor had it that Oscar had been a surfer in his youth, and the deep crow’s feet around his eyes helped substantiate the claim. Every time I came in he was wearing heavy metal band T-shirts and jeans, but despite his rough exterior, Oscar had a heart of gold.

  “You got something new to pawn, Ellie?”

  I cast a glance at Collin, who was poking around the store. Oscar kept an eye on him while talking to me.

  “No, I was checking to see if you still had my cup.”

  Oscar’s smile fell. “I held it as long as I could, Ellie.”

  My stomach balled into a knot. “You sold it.”

  He nodded.

  Now what were we going to do? I didn’t really have a plan to get the relic back if Oscar did still have it, but it didn’t matter now. We were sunk.

  Collin moved next to me in his quiet stealth. “How long ago?”

  Oscar looked from Collin to me. “A friend of yours?”

  “Kind of.”

  Oscar kept his attention on me. “I sold it last week to a collector. I’m sorry, Ellie. I held it back two weeks longer than I should have.”

  “That’s okay, I know. Thanks.” My breath stuck in my chest when I caught Collin’s ugly glare.

  Oscar noted it as well and tensed.

  I turned my back slightly to Collin. “Any chance you can tell me who bought it?”

  Oscar shook his head. “Sorry, Ellie. I can’t tell you. Confidentiality laws.”

  I knew it couldn’t be that easy, but had to ask anyway.

  “Where’s your restroom?” Collin asked in a gruff voice.

  Crossing his arms, Oscar gave him a condescending stare. “The restrooms are for customers only.”

  “I’m a customer.”

  “Ellie’s the customer here, not you. I don’t see you buying anything, only giving me lip.”

  I shook my head with a groan. “Oscar, can you just let him go? Otherwise I’ll be stuck with his bad attitude all the way back to Manteo.”

  Oscar tilted his head to the back. “I’m only doing this for Ellie. I don’t like the way you’re talking to her.”

  “Thank you. How kind of you,” Collin muttered with a sarcastic tone before he headed toward the hall.

  When he disappeared, Oscar’s voice lowered. “You in some kind of trouble, Ellie?”

  “What?” My eyes widened when I realized what he was asking. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. Collin’s not my boyfriend or anything. We’re just doing some… business together.”

  “You’re a good girl, and I don’t want to see you getting mixed up with the likes of someone controlling like him.”

  “Don’t worry, Oscar. It’s a family thing.” Just not the kind of family thing he’d probably think.

  “Is that why he’s here looking for the cup with you?”

  I nodded. “He’s not happy I pawned it.” Talk about an understatement.

  Oscar knew that the cup was a family heirloom. He’d had possession of it five times in the last four years. He’d only given me fifty dollars the first time, but once he realized how much I wanted it back, he increased the amount he paid me each time. But every cent I’d made over the last four months had gone to essentials like food and rent. And the roof for the inn. The damn hurricane hadn’t helped things. I may not have believed in the curse, but that didn’t mean the cup didn’t have sentimental value. Tears burned my eyes, and for the first time ever, I was thankful that Daddy probably wouldn’t be mentally competent to understand that I’d lost it.

  “I’m sorry, Ellie.”

  I offered him a teary smile. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” I laughed. “It’s not like I had the five hundred dollars plus interest anyway. I was just hoping you still had it.”

  “I wish you could catch a break, girl.”

  I sniffed, refusing to look where Collin had disappeared. “Me too, but what are you going to do? It’s family.” I tossed my hair and forced a smile. “Not to worry. I’ll just find a rich husband to take all my money troubles away.”

  Collin emerged from the back and stared at me with a withering glare. I knew that he’d heard me. Did he really think I meant it? Who the hell cared what he thought? For all I knew, the world was about to end, and I really didn’t want to be anywhere around Collin Dailey when it happened. Too bad we’d both be at ground zero. Together. Yippee.

  “Marry me, Ellie Lancaster.” Oscar winked. “Let me take you away from all of this.”

  Putting my hands on my hips, I gave him a saucy leer. “You know you don’t have enough money for me, Oscar.”

  It was a running joke that started the first time I brought the cup in to pawn. When Oscar had only offered fifty dollars, I had protested, saying I needed more money. Oscar had teased that he couldn’t give more for the cup, but he’d marry me instead. He was joking, and I knew it. He was old enough to be my father, and in some strange way had become like a father figure to me after I’d told him my financial tale of woe during my second pawn. Especially after I confessed Daddy’s condition.

  Collin moved toward the door, completely ignoring me. He was probably pissed we didn’t know where the cup was. But that didn’t give him the right to be rude.

  “You sure you’re all right with him, Ellie? I’ve seen his kind before and I don’t like him. He’ll use you and throw you away.”

  “I’m not a real fan, either. But unfortunately I’m stuck with him for a few days.”

  “Family or not, if he gives you any trouble, call me. I mean it.”

  The serious look in his eyes told me that he did. “Thanks, Oscar.” I leaned over the counter and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward me so I could kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.” I dropped my hold and walked to the front door.

  “My offer still stands, girl.”

  I smiled playfully. “Your marriage proposal or taking care of cranky men?”

  “Both.”

  Laughing, I blew him a kiss. “Better be careful. One day I might accept.”

  Collin leaned against the hood of the truck with crossed arms, watching me with a condescending glare. Great, more judgment from the high and mighty Collin Dailey.

  “Look, I know we don’t know where the cup is—”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Who says we don’t know where it is?”

  My feet froze as my eyes narrowed. I knew that he’d heard Oscar. “The cup was sold, and we don’t know who bought it.”

  He uncrossed his arms and pulled a small square of paper from his pocket, waving it before tucking it back inside. “Get in the truck. We’re headed to Rodanthe.”

  I gaped in disbelief. “Is that what I think it is? How did you get it?”

  He shook his head and headed to the driver’s door. “Oh ye of little faith.”

  I really wished he’d stop saying that.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “How did you get that address?” I asked before I’d shut my door.

  He gave me a lopsided grin. “Some things are better left unknown.”

  But I knew that Collin had to have slipped into the back and gotten the name and address while I was talking to Oscar. I felt sleazy and slimy even if I h
adn’t done anything wrong. If Oscar ever found out, he might think I’d been part of Collin’s scheme. And while I didn’t care what the jackass next to me thought of me, I did care what Oscar thought. Nevertheless, there was nothing I could do about it now, and we really did need to find the cup.

  This was what really paved the way to hell: bad deeds reasoned away as good intentions.

  No, the spirits being unleashed upon the world were what paved the road to hell, and it was up to Collin and me to make sure that didn’t happen. And that included getting the cup.

  “So it’s in Rodanthe.”

  “That’s who he sold it to, a Mrs. Evelyn Abernathy in Rodanthe, North Carolina.”

  “Since Rodanthe’s on the beach, it’s going to take forever to get there with the tourist traffic.”

  He shrugged. “At least we have a lead.”

  We drove for ten minutes of agonizing silence. I knew that Rodanthe had to be over an hour drive with the traffic. I was never going to be able to stand the quiet. “Does your radio work?”

  His eyes widened. “What?”

  “The radio.” I pointed to the dashboard. “Does it work?”

  “Well, yeah…”

  I leaned over and switched it on, turning the knob when static burst through the speakers. I tuned in to a Top 40 station.

  A frown pinched his mouth. “I don’t really want to listen to that.”

  Still hunched forward in front of the radio, I looked up into his face with an expression of mock innocence. “Does that mean you’d rather chat? Want to tell me what you know about the curse?”

  His face scrunched with a grimace. “By all means, listen to the radio.”

  I sat back and grinned. “Thanks, I will.” Then I began to sing along with the song. I laughed at Collin’s pained look. “Perhaps you’d rather listen to country?” I shouted over the wind and the music.

  “I prefer the silence,” he shouted back.

  I shrugged with a grin, singing the rest of the way to Rodanthe, as loudly as possible and with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Collin appeared irritated by the curious looks of passengers in the cars passing by, but I didn’t care. Life was too short to go out acting all stuffy and self-important. I’d rather go out singing, even if I was slightly off-key.