The Curse Keepers (Curse Keepers series)

by Swank, Denise Grover

  Not only could I feel Collin’s physical response, but I could sense his emotional one as well. He wanted me, badly. But he was also experiencing guilt.

  His lips left mine, and he pressed my forehead to his chin. “Ellie.” This time my name was tight and choked.

  We remained like that, both of us catching our breath for several excruciating moments, until he removed his hand from the back of my head and retreated a step. Our joined hands were all that kept us connected. But I knew that was next.

  His fingers uncurled but his palm still pressed against mine, the power between us too irresistible to release. His eyes, full of regret and hunger, searched mine. Whatever he found was what he needed. Resignation pulled his mouth into a frown and his hand lowered.

  I stood in front of him for several shocked seconds, unsure what to do.

  Collin took another step back. “You should be protected now.”

  The mark on my back might protect me from evil spirits, but what was going to protect my heart from Collin Dailey?

  “Okay,” I mumbled. My knees were weak, but I refused to show any sign of his effect on me, other than what I’d already displayed. Although if he was as aware of me as I was of him, he already knew.

  Turning away from me, he scooped up his shirt and pulled it over his head. He began picking up the candles, blowing them out and putting them in his bag. The melted wax seeped into the brown bag, dark stains spreading outward. I wondered if I should help him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t bring myself to move from the spot where I stood. After throwing the bowl of henna and the stick into a small plastic bag and putting them in his larger one, he paused in front of me, uncertainty on his face.

  “Tomorrow we should get my relic. It’s down in Morehead City. If we’re lucky, we’ll get it right away, but if not… you should probably pack an overnight bag.”

  “Okay.” Five minutes ago, that would have sent a thrill through my blood, but now it filled me with dread and regret. Still, it had to be done.

  “While you were at work, I put fresh markings outside your doorway and inside around your window frames. You should be okay tonight, but if you need me, feel free to call.”

  I nodded, but his suggestion was worthless, and we both knew it. If I were to come face-to-face with a god or spirit, Collin would never get here in time, but what else was he going to say? If a spirit sneaks in, good luck with that?

  “Your mark…” His voice sounded strained, and his eyes shifted to the corner. “Try not to sleep on it or do anything to smear it. The lemon-sugar juice I sprayed on it will help the henna set, but you need to leave it undisturbed at least until morning. The longer it has to set, the longer it will last.”

  “Okay.”

  There was nothing left to say so he moved to the door and hesitated. His mouth opened, his jaw working, then he shook his head and left.

  I watched the door, standing in the exact spot where he pulled away from me, although I wasn’t sure why on both counts. The last thing I expected was Collin Dailey to walk through my door again tonight. My head was a swirl of emotions I couldn’t sort through, but one rose above the others, bobbing at the surface: rejection. Collin had screwed countless women, but he’d walked away from me.

  It didn’t make any sense, but if I let myself really think about him, nothing about Collin Dailey made sense. I knew he’d wanted me, I’d felt the physical proof, yet it wasn’t enough. Why? I knew it wasn’t honor—there wasn’t an honorable bone in his body. So what had stopped him? Why had he felt guilt?

  There was no sense dwelling on things I couldn’t control. I was not going to get to the bottom of Collin Dailey’s behavior tonight—as if I ever would—and I was curious what my henna tattoo looked like. I hadn’t had a chance to peek at what he’d drawn on my back in his truck either, so I went to the bathroom and turned my back to the mirror.

  The symbol Collin had just applied was as close to the one on his chest as I remembered. The stain on top of my skin was beginning to dry. On my other side was an ink pen drawing of a circle surrounding a square—the Curse Keeper mark on our palms—but also zigzag lines in the center and on all four sides. Underneath the ink was a faded mark, much more primitive. Three dark slashes that looked like claw marks at an angle. Above the marks was a crescent moon. It was hard to believe an ink drawing had saved my life, but I’d seen just as strange, if not stranger things over the last few days.

  I needed to talk to Daddy again. The ceremony to close the gate was looming in the not so distant future and even though Collin knew how to perform it, I’d feel better going into the event with some inkling of knowledge. Maybe I’d have time to see Daddy in the morning. And hopefully he wouldn’t mistake me for an evil spirit. There was no tempering the pain that went with that, no matter how much I prepared myself.

  I’d also have to get time off from work, from both Myra and the New Moon. I sighed. I might have to end up selling more of Daddy and Myra’s antiques. My only hope at this point was that the increase in tourists would boost the Dare Inn revenue. Still, it was so hopelessly in debt, I wasn’t sure if anything could save it at this point. How ironic that the cause of the increased tourism might save the inn, was curse that destroyed my family.

  The wind howled outside my door with an eerie groan. Collin thought I was safe with the marks on my back and the symbols around my windows and door, but I was still on edge and didn’t want to be alone. There was only one person who could help me feel better, and I knew she’d drop everything and run over if I asked. Especially if she thought she could get some details about Collin.

  Claire answered on the second ring. “So what happened after I left?”

  “At the restaurant or my apartment?”

  “Collin went to your apartment?”

  “Not only that, he took my shirt off.”

  “You’re shitting me! I told you that the two of you had major chemistry. So why are you calling me now? Isn’t he still there? Why not wait until tomorrow to catch me up?”

  “He’s gone. And I had to call you tonight because I’m going to Morehead City tomorrow, and I have a ton to tell you. In person.”

  “You’ve thrown me two things to latch on to: First, why are you going to Morehead City, and more importantly who with? And second, did Collin take off anything else besides your shirt?”

  “That’s three things, not two. Come over, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  She must have been sprinting out her front door when she hung up, because she knocked on my door in record time. In fact, she was still wearing her pajamas. “When was the last time we had a slumber party?” she asked, walking past me at the door and flopping on the sofa. “And yes, I noticed that you’re still shirtless. Are you dying to show me a hickey? Because I have to tell you that hickeys are so high school.”

  “No.” I pinched my lips into a frown. “I don’t want to show you a hickey. Disgusting. Give me some credit, will you?”

  “Then what’s with the striptease?”

  I turned around to show her my back.

  “What the hell is that? You got another tattoo? The girl who would rather pierce her nose than get inked?”

  “Yes, I mean no. I mean it’s a tattoo, but it’s henna, and technically, it’s not another tattoo because the one on my palm isn’t a tattoo.”

  “Where and when did you get it?”

  “Collin did it. After I got off work.”

  She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Let me get this straight. Hotter-than-hell Collin came into your apartment, took off your shirt…” She paused, raising her eyebrows and waiting for confirmation.

  I nodded.

  “… and then proceeded to give you a henna tattoo.”

  “Pretty much. Yeah.”

  “Okay.” Her face twisted in confusion. “I think you need to start from the beginning.”

  So I did, telling her everything. About going to the pawnshop in Kill Devi
l Hills, going to Buxton, my run-in with Marino, breaking into the warehouse, Rosalina, Collin drawing on my back to counteract the god’s hold on my soul, getting the cup back, and finally, my embarrassing situation with Collin tonight.

  “I don’t know why you’re embarrassed,” Claire grumbled. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t help it if Collin can’t man up.”

  “Oh, he manned up all right. I felt the proof.”

  Claire’s eyebrows rose and she smirked. “See? That’s an improvement over your last date.”

  “Little good it does me.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

  “Giving up? The man doesn’t want to have sex with me, Claire. What is there to give up?”

  “Of course he wants to have sex with you. But something is holding him back, which I admit, is incredibly hard to believe with that generic white bra you’re wearing there.” She faked a yawn.

  I threw a pillow at her. “Shut up.”

  “Really, Ellie? That’s the best you could do?”

  “I never expected to be shirtless with him. He wasn’t interested in me.”

  “Yeah, I got that in front of the New Moon when you two were practically dry humping.”

  “We were not!”

  “Maybe not, but you were well on your way. I got so hot watching you two I had to go home and have sex with Drew within two minutes of walking in the door. I’m sure you can imagine his confusion.”

  “Yeah, poor Drew,” I chuckled.

  “The point is that while the flesh is willing, his spirit hesitates. We both know that he’s not a man of principles when it comes to sex. It wouldn’t take much to break him, so the question is do you want to?”

  I shot her a look of surprise.

  “You have to admit he isn’t your usual type, Ellie. You go for dry, boring, and predictable. Collin Dailey is none of those things.”

  “Tell me about it. Collin Dailey is not boyfriend material.” I still had no doubt that once we performed the gate-closing ceremony, I’d never see him again.

  Claire leaned over her crossed legs and held her hand out. “Maybe you don’t need a boyfriend. I mean, look how well that route has gone. You’ve spent your entire romantic life searching for the fireworks and romance you think your parents had, and you’ve barely lit a match with all those other guys. Maybe you should go for a fling and get the need for fire out of your system. Sometimes fire’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  I remembered Collin’s hands on my skin and how alive I’d felt beneath his touch. He was like a drug I couldn’t resist. But everything came with a price. “Sometimes people get burned playing with fire.”

  “But they sure have fun before they do.”

  I sighed.

  Claire rested her hand on my knee. “Look, I’m not telling you to do it. I’m just saying think about it, but don’t get your heart involved. You and I both know the most you’ll get from a guy like that is a few rounds of hot rolling in the sheets, but sometimes there’s nothing wrong with just a hot roll in the sheets.”

  I nodded. The wind howled again, and I tensed. “Did you mean it about having a slumber party? I really don’t want to be alone. But I understand if you don’t want to. Those things out there are real, Claire.”

  “What? And miss the chance to see a real live spirit? Pull out the chick flicks and pop some popcorn. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll give you a pedicure. You never know, Collin might be a foot man.”

  I shuddered. I hoped to God he wasn’t.

  “But you’re on your own with a bikini wax. I gotta draw the line somewhere.”

  “Not to worry. I don’t want you anywhere near my bikini line.”

  Claire got off the sofa and patted my head. “Good girl. Playing hard to get just might be the way to get someone in your panties after all.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Pounding outside my door and the sound of someone shouting my name woke me from my troubled sleep around four in the morning. I’d been dreaming of animals again, all of them crying out to me. Curse Keeper, daughter of the sea, help us.

  At first, I wondered if the noise outside was Collin, although I couldn’t figure out why he’d come back this late. I’d been sleeping face-first on the sofa, trying not to lay on my henna tattoo. I propped up on my elbows, checking on Claire who was stretched out on the overstuffed chair and ottoman, covered in an afghan.

  Maybe I was imagining things. I started to lie back down until I heard it again.

  “Curse Keeper.” The title was slurred as an insult, which could only mean one thing—an evil spirit was outside my door.

  Shit.

  The markings around the door would keep the spirit out, and the tattoo on my back would keep it from sucking my Manitou like a slushy from the Stop and Go, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t hurt me. However, I doubted ignoring it would make the thing go away.

  I reached over and shook Claire’s leg. “Claire.”

  She startled, bolting upright. “What? What is it?”

  “Listen.”

  Her eyes widened in the dark room, the only light coming from my closed bathroom door. I hadn’t slept with a nightlight since a few years after Momma died. Maybe it was time to rethink that one.

  We waited, our ears straining. The wind blew against my door and my windows. That was the only sound for several seconds until I heard it again. A banging on my porch and a voice. “Curse Keeper.”

  Claire’s eyes bugged even more. “Shit.” Her mouth hung open, and it took her a second to recover. She leaned toward me, whispering, “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think it will just go away. I should see what it wants.” But I didn’t want to see what it wanted. I wanted to hide in my room. Under the covers. With a flashlight. But I reminded myself that that wasn’t what Curse Keepers did. They didn’t cower in the dark. Dammit. Someone needed to rewrite the job description, whatever the hell it actually was.

  Claire waited for me to do something.

  Swallowing a lump of fear, I climbed off the sofa, realizing I was still wearing my bra and the short pajama bottoms I’d changed into earlier. I could put on a shirt but the last thing I wanted to do was screw up the symbol on my back, especially given what waited outside my door. I highly doubted it mattered what I wore to face an evil spirit.

  I moved next to the door and leaned into it. “What do you want?”

  “I wish to have an audience with you.”

  Didn’t that sound polite and civilized? “No.”

  The wind beat against the door in a frenzy.

  Was it a wind god or Okeus or his messenger or some other mean and nasty thing? “Who are you?”

  “I am Kanim, the messenger of the rightful creator god!” it shouted with more wind effects.

  The stupid thing was going to wake up my neighbors, and then it would probably suck out their Manitou. Did I want to be responsible for that?

  “Can’t we have this audience through the door?”

  “No.”

  I took a deep breath, working to steady my nerves. I had to face this messenger, but I wasn’t dumb enough to just open the door. “I’ll open the door, but I have to have your word that you won’t hurt me.”

  I figured the request was pointless. Even if it said yes, could I really trust it? No honor among thieves, and all those other platitudes. But this wasn’t a thief in the traditional sense, although I was sure you could count stealing people’s life force and sending them to Popogusso as thievery. Even so, I was probably about to meet the messenger of a god, who probably had some sense of honor, if I could go on what little I knew of Greek and Roman mythology. Sure, the Native American pantheon wasn’t the same thing, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they all came from some god/spiritual motherland.

  Claire jumped out of her chair and rushed forward, grabbing my arm. “Ellie, you can’t be serious. What’s to keep that thing from hurting you an
yway?”

  “I have to, Claire. If I don’t face it, it will hurt someone else. I know it.” Despite the Collin-centric portion of the ceremony there at the end, I’d been left with a bigger realization. It was my responsibility to protect other living beings—animals and humans alike—and that sense of duty was firmly embedded in my head.

  “You have my word,” the spirit answered.

  “Claire, stand out of the doorway.”

  “Ellie!”

  “Look, you wanted this thing to be real and it is. So step aside and let me do what I have to do.”

  She backed up a couple of feet, moving to the side. I knew part of it killed her. She was dying to see what was behind the door.

  I took another deep breath. Collin had faced the wind god yesterday and sent it away. I could protect myself from a messenger if I needed to. Of course, Collin knew the Manteo line words of protection. I knew two words of the Dare portion. That wasn’t going to me any good. I shook my head. No sense dwelling on the negative. I was going into this with a positive can-do spirit.

  Boy, was that stupid.

  The moment I opened the door, a gust of wind blew me backward, onto the sofa. I had to roll to the side to keep from smearing my mark.

  “How dare you question the messenger of the god of creation!” the voice boomed.

  The spirit shimmered, still a black fuzzy blob, but bigger and denser. I thought for a few seconds that I could see a human face and form.

  “Ellie!” Claire screamed.

  “I’m fine. Stay where you are!” I shouted, crawling to my knees.

  “I warned you, pathetic Curse Keeper. Okeus’s patience is thin.”

  The wind continued to blow, but I wasn’t backing down to this egotistical supernatural asshole. I climbed to my feet, fighting to keep my balance against the blast. “Haven’t you heard that patience is a virtue?”

  The gust increased, but I bent my knees and grabbed hold of the chair.