Old Haunts

by Nova Nelson

  How many times? I wondered. How many times would we have passionate moments in back alleys?

  A thousand times wouldn’t be enough. Making out with Donovan in shady back alleys felt exactly like the type of romance we’d been building since day one.

  My heart raced as I let his hands roam. Mine roamed as well, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt.

  “Damnation, Nora,” he breathed in my ear, “I need you so bad. I don’t care if it only lasts another day. I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”

  I moaned as his teeth found nape of my neck. I undid another button and ran my hands over the blazing hot skin of his chest. And when the palm of my hand found his heartbeat, the connection came thundering back. The bookshelf.

  I yanked my hand away like I’d been scalded, and he gave my shoulder a break long enough to cast me a concerned glance. “Did I hurt you? Sorry. I got a little carried away. I just—”

  “No,” I assured him. “I just remembered something.”

  “You just… remembered something?” His chest was heaving, and I knew the confusion that held back another flood of passion was tenuous at best.

  “Yes.” I frowned and shook my head. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just that Dmitri has this tattoo over his heart, and the magical examiner said the symbol was attached to a curse. And I knew I’d seen that symbol before, but I couldn’t remember where.”

  “And you just remembered,” he said, sounding not nearly as excited by the idea as I was.

  “I did. And I should probably…”

  “Go,” he said, taking a step back. “Right.” He cleared his throat and began the arduous task of buttoning up his shirt.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I just… If it’s what I think it is, it’s seriously dark magic, and the sooner I can clean it up the better.”

  “Will you come back?”

  I couldn’t quite decipher his pained expression. “You mean, to Franco’s?

  “No, to me.”

  My heart filled with lead. “Of course. Donovan, I already told you I’m not going anywhere.”

  He nodded then turned to lean his back against the wall next to me. “I thought you’d have already left by now. I thought when I walked away, you would take it as a sign that you were better off without me.”

  I turned my head to look at him. “Were you trying to run me off?”

  He met my stare. “Of course not. I already told you I wouldn’t leave. But let’s not kid ourselves, we both know it’s only a matter of time before I do something to drive you away for good.”

  “Hey,” I whispered, placing a palm on his jaw. “If you could do something to push me away, don’t you think I’d already be gone?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “It kind of sounds like you’re saying I’m hard to be around.”

  “You are.” I pushed off the wall, moved to stand in front of him, and kissed him softly on the lips. “But you always make up for it later.”

  And then I turned and left. I needed to get some distance from him. Not just for the sake of public decency, but because I’d never felt so torn in all my life.

  I could never leave Donovan, could I? It wasn’t that I wanted to, but even if I had wanted to, I couldn’t now. He was so vulnerable.

  And sexy. So very sexy.

  But as I passed Fulcrum Fountain on my way to Erin Park, I had the strangest sensation. It was like the open portal was hovering just a few feet behind me, following my every step, and calling for me to turn around and take the leap.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I promise I wasn’t watching,” were the first words out of Dmitri’s mouth when he appeared a moment later.

  “Voyeur,” I mumbled. “If you weren’t watching, how did you know it was happening?”

  “Okay, so I caught the tail end of it, but I didn’t mean to. I gotta tell you, Nora, you’re in deep with that guy.”

  I glared at him. “You’re in deep, too. In deep swirls. How come you didn’t tell me the truth about the tattoo?” I continued stomping toward Greggory O’Leary’s house as he drifted after me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a curse!”

  “Oh, right. That.”

  “You didn’t think it was worth mentioning that the tattoo over your failed heart, which we just discovered was tethering you magically to something in the physical world, was a result of a curse? And a dark leprechaun curse, if I’m not mistaken. Everyone knows their curses are the most unforgiving.”

  He cringe-grinned. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

  I came to a halt and rounded on him. “It didn’t seem relevant? Did you, by any chance, find out about your mysterious heart condition after you tattooed yourself?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I want the real story, Dmitri. Stop wasting my time. I’m trying to help you move on!”

  He opened his mouth, and through it I noticed an owl swooping out of the night sky to land on a mail perch and ring the bell.

  Finally, he said. “That night, when Sasha came over and said she was done with Darius for good, I wanted to believe it. Not just for my sake, but for hers. I wanted her to be able to move on from him.”

  “You can drop that act,” I snapped. “Remember who you’re talking to. You don’t have to pretend your actions were based on anything other than selfish and poor decisions. I know how it goes. I’m practically the queen of that when it comes to romance.” Maybe I was being a little hard on myself, but hey, it felt great.

  “Fine,” he said. “I wanted to make sure they never made up because I was so tired of being second place. I wanted to be her first choice. And after that night at my place, the thought of them ever getting back together nearly tore my heart out. So, once she left, I took action.”

  “What do you mean? The curse?”

  “Yes. I went over to Greggory’s and asked him to help me with a ritual. When I told him what it was, he flat out refused. He said messing with love magic was more than he had a stomach for. It was one thing to cast a confusion charm on someone so we could swipe a little booze from behind the bar at Sheehan’s, but it was another to set this degree of curse against another person.

  “I didn’t understand the concept of permanence at the time. I was nineteen! Forever seemed like both a long and a short time to me. I couldn’t even think two days ahead of me, let alone two or twenty years. So, on my way out of his house, I swiped one of his books.”

  I nodded along. “The one with that symbol on the spine.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You’ve seen it?”

  “When I went to speak with him. I’d glanced at his bookshelf, but the symbol meant nothing to me at the time. It just now came back to me.”

  “And that’s why you’re marching over to knock down his door, huh?”

  “Precisely.”

  “He didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all me. I took the book, returned home, and performed the curse myself. Then I returned it to him before he knew it was gone. It was almost a year before he learned what I’d done. And you should know he took me outside and kicked my hide for it.”

  “I’m not going to shout at him,” I said, starting back on my route. “I’m just going to get the book. If you’re ever going to move on, we have to lift this curse.”

  He was silent for a moment, then said, “Makes sense.”

  I knew I should detach myself from this situation. After all, it was work, but for fang’s sake, I’d come to like him, and even though I knew not to trust spirits at their word, his lies and obscuring of the truth ate at me. So I had to ask him: “Did you know this was what was keeping you the whole time?”

  “No. I honestly didn’t. That’s the truth! I never read up on the consequences of the spell. I was an idiot at the time, like I said. And then within a few years, I’d forgiven both Sasha and Darius, and I figured that was the end of it. Sure, the tattoo was still there but as far as I was concerned, it was just a reminder of how quickly the grudges that we think
will last forever can fade. I really don’t have any unfinished business with them.”

  “Except you do. Whatever this curse is made of, it’s powerful stuff, and it’s anchoring you here until it’s lifted.”

  I was tempted to accept his answer as truth, though. Would I be a fool to believe this when he’d omitted so much in the past to spare his own ego?

  We reached O’Leary’s home, walked up onto the stoop, but before I knocked, Dmitri said, “What will you do once I’m gone?”

  His question caught me by surprise. “The same thing I’ve always done, probably.”

  “No, I mean regarding Donovan and Tanner. What will you do?”

  “I promised Donovan I would stick around.”

  “So, what, you’re going to stay with him until Ted do you part because you made a promise under duress? What about making yourself happy?”

  I hissed, “You think I can’t be happy with Donovan?”

  “Not while you know Tanner is out there, just a portal away.”

  “Except he won’t be.” Amid the chaos of the last twenty minutes, something had shifted inside me, and the best answer to my problems had become clear, solidifying in my mind. “Because I’m going to close the portal.”

  Dmitri looked at me with something not unlike pity. “You think you’re going to ask the count to close it and… he will?”

  “No. I know he won’t.”

  “Then you’re planning on breaking into his castle to close it?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then how are you going to close it?”

  “I don’t know yet, okay?”

  The door swung open suddenly, and light from the lamp in Greggory O’Leary’s hand temporarily blinded me.

  “Fangs and claws,” I hissed, covering my eyes.

  “I should’ve known it was you out here talking to no one on my doorstep,” the leprechaun said, lowering the lamp. “Or are ya talking to someone I just can’t see?” When my vision returned to me, I noted that he was wearing a heather-green bath robe and a fuzzy orange nightcap that hung limply over his right ear. If it was already past dusk, it was only just. Going to bed this early seemed strange, but, well, who was I to judge? I was arguing with a ghost on his doorstep.

  “Someone you can’t see.”

  “Dmitri?”

  “Yep.”

  O’Leary turned and motioned for us to follow him inside, and I shut the door behind us.

  He set the lamp on the table and then proceeded to light a few of the candles in the sconces protruding from his mossy walls.

  “Vision’s not what it used to be,” he said. “Practicing too much Draíolc in your impressionable years can do that. Dims the light. I can see all right when it’s a bright day, but outside of that… It’s too bad how that works, that life convinces us we’re immortal and that our bill will never come due when we’re young, and then it comes due over and over again, with interest added. Shall I make some tea?”

  “I’d prefer whiskey.”

  He nodded and winked. “Right answer.”

  He grabbed a bottle and two clay cups from a shelf next to his bookcase and brought them over.

  I downed the first bit quickly, and he poured me a refill. “What’s this about?”

  I stood and moved over to his books. “This, actually.” Locating the symbol on the spine, I pulled it out to show him. “What’s this one about?”

  “Curses.”

  “Specifically?”

  “Love curses. The most dangerous kind there is.”

  I knew better than to question that assertion. I’d seen firsthand the kind of chaos that could erupt from love run amok when Cassie the Archetype decided to drop into Eastwind and stir up old romances. Ansel was lucky not to be in Ironhelm after what he’d done during the frenzy.

  “And the one on the spine?”

  “Ah, so yer putting it all together, then. That’s the Lamora Knot. Easily the most recognizable but also the most misunderstood and dangerous symbol of this variety.”

  I stared down at it. “Then why would anyone put it on the cover? Seems a bit reckless.”

  “It is.” He shrugged. “But it’s kinda pretty, innit?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.” Setting it on the table in front of Dmitri with a thump, I said, “Now we just have to figure out how to break the knot.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The book of Draíolc spells hadn’t revealed the counter-curse for the Lamora Knot without a good fight. But in the end, O’Leary’s magical know-how had won out, and through a series of chants and spells, he’d convinced the old book to reveal the cure. The page where the instructions for the curse had once been had changed reluctantly—I cannot stress that enough, though describing how I could tell a piece of paper was reluctant is beyond my ability to explain—to a description of what needed to be done to undo the damage. I wasn’t especially fond of the answer, but I’d worry about that bit of unpleasantness when the time came.

  Once that bit of work was done, I translated for Dmitri as he bid his best friend a final goodbye in O’Leary’s parlor. It wasn’t the kind of heartfelt goodbye I’d gotten used to delivering for spirits. Instead, it was little more than an inventory list of all the places throughout Eastwind where Dmitri had buried various items of their stolen contraband over the years. He gave O’Leary his blessing to dig up whatever he saw fit to sell in the event the leprechaun ever found himself hard up for cash. At O’Leary’s insistence, I promised not to tell anyone what I’d just learned. The man—bathrobe, nightcap, and all—looked about ready to make me swear a blood oath, and I bet he knew a few good ones.

  But in the end, he took me at my word, and Dmitri and I stepped out into the fading twilight.

  “Wait,” he said.

  I turned around just in time to see him scurry out of sight, leaving the front door open. He appeared again a moment later, carrying something long in his hand. He offered it to me, and, at first, I wasn’t sure what it was. Then it sank in.

  “What’s this for?” I asked, receiving the dagger. The scabbard was a thick, stiff, woven leather tinted dark green, and a smooth bronze hilt jutted out from the sheath.

  “Completing the ritual. Cutting this kind of knot requires the right kind of knife. I suspect the sheriff will want to confiscate it after ya use it, so do whatever ya need to get it back to me. It’s worth more than all of Flint’s buried knickknacks combined.”

  I agreed to do my best and tucked it in my waistband before saying a final farewell to Greggory O’Leary.

  And then I made for Fluke Mountain.

  “You could just send him a letter, you know. That’s what owls are for,” Dmitri said, floating alongside.

  “We’re not going to visit Darius yet. We can deal with that in the morning.”

  “Then where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I’m afraid my energy is almost tapped.”

  “Then it’s time to dig down deep. You’re not done yet.”

  Twenty minutes later, we finally turned a corner on a narrow foot path and her cabin came into sight.

  Our real purpose for the trek hit him. “No,” he said. “No, no, no. This is totally unnecessary.”

  “You have to shut the door on this, Dmitri. And I could tell from the way you talked about her that it’s still open at least a crack.”

  He wrung his ghostly hands, and I noticed one fade out of existence for a moment. He wasn’t kidding about his energy being low. “But what am I even going to say?”

  I reached in my back pocket and pulled out a pen and a piece of owl parchment I’d stolen from O’Leary’s house.

  What? The man spent the first part of his life being a petty criminal! Losing a pen and some paper to me was the least of his karma.

  “When you’re ready, you can use me to write it.”

  He stared at me, aghast. “Use you?”

  “Yep.” I reached in my shirt and pulled out the staurolite pendant, remov
ing the chain from around my neck. “I’m all yours. You can even use my energy.”

  He squinted at me through the gloom. “You mean… possess you?”

  “Yep.”

  “You trust me to do that?”

  “It’s probably a grave error in judgment, but yes.”

  “Huh. Well, thanks. I appreciate that. I didn’t figure you would, after everything.”

  As I looked around for a good place to sit, I said, “I don’t trust you to tell me everything you know, but do I think you’re going to possess me and never let me go? Or make me run off some cliff? No.”

  “I don’t know how to do it.”

  I settled onto a large boulder and placed the slip of paper on my thigh. “You’ll figure it out. Your kind are naturals at it.”

  He did figure it out, and as he wrote his final letter to Sasha Fontaine, I kept my mind to myself and didn’t read a word of it. He made me fold it up and then slipped it in my pocket before releasing his hold on me. Not that I had any desire to read it. Snooping on that sort of an intimate moment felt, well, I don’t have a word to describe it other than icky.

  I looped my pendant back over my head and nodded. “Okay, ready?”

  “I am. One question, though. How did you know Sasha’s address?”

  We stepped onto her porch, and I’m proud to say I’d learned my lesson about carrying on loudly on doorsteps from our last stop; this time I was quieter when I said, “I employ her daughter. I see this address on her payment slip each week.”

  It was a long moment after I knocked before the door opened, but it wasn’t Sasha staring back at me. It was Greta. “What are you doing here?” she asked with the unintentional and omnipresent rudeness of teenage girls that I secretly loved. Then her eyes grew large. “Oh no, am I fired?”

  “No. Should you be?”

  She shook her head without taking her eyes off me. “Definitely not. My mom makes me buy all my own books at Mancer Academy. I need this job.”

  “Great. Then we’re on the same page. Speaking of your mom, is she home?”