The Curse Keepers Collection (55 page)

“And if I don’t?”

His leer sent chills down my spine before I slammed the door closed. I expected him to howl and scream in protest, but it remained blessedly silent outside. After a moment, I turned and rested the back of my head against the door.

The bottom line was that Wapi was right. I would have to choose . . . and it wasn’t much of a choice. Okeus promised me an eternal life in hell. Ahone promised little other than his protection, but at least my soul wouldn’t be damned. Not that I knew of, anyway.

Not like Collin’s.

Perhaps I could put Ahone’s mark on my back if I knew what it was. One thing was for sure: I really was running out of time.

I stumbled back to the sofa in exhaustion and dozed there for a few hours, my dreams remarkably quiet, until Claire let herself into the apartment.

“You look like shit,” she said as she kicked the door closed behind her and handed me a cup of coffee from the shop across the alley.

“Gee, I love you too.” I took a sip of the coffee, burning my tongue and nearly dropping the cup.

She plopped down in the overstuffed chair across from me, dug a muffin out of a paper bag, and handed it to me. “I heard you were in the botanical gardens last night.”

I peeled the lining paper off the muffin, giving it my full attention. “And where did you hear that?”

“Tom Helmsworth stopped by my house this morning to have a chat.”

My gaze jerked up to meet hers.

Claire watched me for several seconds and when I didn’t answer, she continued. “He said it wasn’t the first time.”

I took a bite. “He’s watching me.”

“Why?”

“He knows that all those deaths are connected to me.”

Her eyebrows rose. “He thinks you killed those people?”

“No, but he heard me shouting to Okeus and Ahone, and he’s studied the symbols on my door. I’m pretty sure he knows something’s up.”

“How does he know about the symbols?”

“He says he’s part Lumbee. He asked his great uncle.”

Claire shook her head. “It doesn’t mean he
really
knows anything. How could he?”

I ran my hand through my dirty hair and looked up at her. “My dreams are getting worse.”

“What did you see?”

“When Tom brought me home, I heard a call come over the radio. The dispatcher said a mutilated dog had been found. I don’t think it was the first one.” I groaned. “I mean, I know hundreds of animals have already died—in fact, it’s a wonder there are any left—but this time, they’ve been tortured.”

“What does it have to do with your dreams?”

“Last night, the creature in my dreams ripped a dog apart in front of me.”

The color drained from her face; then she sat back in the chair and tucked her feet underneath her. “Maybe it was the power of suggestion, Ellie. It could have just been a dream.”

I shook my head. “No, this was real. And the thing talked to me. It told me that I had to make a decision soon, that Okeus was coming for me.”

“You’re okay as long as you have the symbols on the door, right?”

“For now, sure. But the spirits are growing stronger. Soon they’ll be strong enough to show themselves in the daylight. I’m no closer to finding Ahone’s symbol for my back. What am I supposed to do?”

Her eyes widened in fear. “I don’t know.”

I crossed my legs and leaned forward. “I’m not going to sit here and wait for them to come and get me, Claire. I need to learn how to protect myself. And I have to figure out how to protect everyone else too. Sure, it’s dogs now, but it won’t be long before the spirits move on to people.”

“How are you going to do that? We’ve looked at every resource we can find, both at the library and online. Are you going to visit the Lumbees or something?”

Pressing my lips together, I considered my options. I needed an expert who knew more about Native American spirits than anyone else. Someone who’d studied these religions in depth. Then an idea struck—one so perfect I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. I grabbed my laptop and searched for universities that offered Native American studies. “If you want an expert, who else knows more than a professor teaching the subject, right?”

Claire considered it. “You might be on to something there. What are you going to do?”

It looked like the closest university with a strong program was the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Digging into the faculty page, I pointed to the screen. “Here, Dr. David Preston. He’s the head of the American Studies Department and it says he’s an expert on North Carolinian Indians. That means he might have the information I need, right?”

She looked doubtful. “I guess . . . ”

I stood and stretched. “It’s worth a chance. I’ll leave as soon as I finish up at the bed and breakfast this morning.” I only hoped the anxiety I always felt when I left the island—a wretched side effect of the curse—wouldn’t be too debilitating. But I’d suffer through just about anything to improve my chances of long-term survival.

“You’re going to go
today
?”

“I need this information as soon as possible, Claire.”

“How do you know if he’ll even be there? It’s summer.”

“I’ll call and see if he’s available. Maybe he teaches summer classes.” I sat down and turned my back to her, pulling aside the top strap of my tank top. “The henna tattoo is almost gone. It’s my only protection. I have a few days left at most.”

“So just replace it with what Collin put on you.”

“But he used Okeus’s mark on my back. The spirits keep telling me I have to choose. If I put Okeus’s mark on my back permanently, it will mean I’ve chosen him. I have to wait until I find Ahone’s symbol.”

She sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

I got up and headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll call you later.”

“Ellie, wait.”

I paused next to my bathroom door.

“Let me go with you.”

“But you have to work.”

“I’ll work for a few hours and then tell them I’m sick.” She gave me a wry smile. “I’m worried about you. Chapel Hill is a good four hours away, and I don’t want you going by yourself. What if . . . ”

“What if what? I get attacked by the badger thing that showed up in my dream?”

She looked down into her coffee.

“All the more reason for you to stay home.”

Her face shot up, a determined look in her eyes.

I sagged against the door frame. I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her. But I also couldn’t stand the thought of being alone all day. “Thanks, Claire. You’re right. I’m scared to death, and I need you.”

Claire got up and walked over, pulling me into a hug. “I’m here for you. As long as you don’t try to back out of wearing the maid of honor dress I picked out for you.” I tried to pull back and swat her arm, but she tightened her hold as she giggled into my ear. “I know you hate that dress, but you’re going to have to wear it. It was a concession to my sister for picking you as my maid of honor. So get over it.”

“I know, but orange taffeta ruffles? Really? I’m going to look like a pumpkin.”

“Nah, you’re not round enough. Maybe a squash.”

I laughed, breaking free. “Lucky for you, I’d wear a burlap bag if you asked.”

She patted my cheek with a sneaky grin. “I’m counting on it.” Her smile slid off her face and she stared into my eyes. “I’ll help you any way I can, Ellie.”

“I know, Claire. And I love you for it.” But when things started getting really bad, I’d turn away from her rather than put her in harm’s way. I wasn’t sure how I’d manage that, but I was determined.

“I know how hard all of this has been for you; losing your dad—”

I waited for the usual tears to fill my eyes, but they stayed dry. Maybe I was cried out. For now. “The best thing I can do for Daddy is carry on his legacy. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“He’d be so proud of how brave you are.”

Daddy would have been prouder if I’d taken the curse more seriously from the beginning, but it had sounded like a fairy tale passed down from generation to generation for over four hundred years. I’d stopped believing in the curse when I was eight years old. Right after my mother was murdered. Every piece of information he’d told me completely disappeared, something I’d attributed to the trauma of witnessing her death. Daddy had done his best to reteach me, but I’d turned my back on it. My mother hadn’t believed, and I felt I owed it to her to give the curse up as well. For the last two weeks I’d beaten myself up about it, wondering if Collin would still have been able to trick me if I’d remembered all the details. I’d like to think he still would have snowed me, but there was no way of knowing.

Claire left for work with the plan that she’d develop a convenient case of food poisoning as soon as I called her with confirmation that the professor would be at the university. I grabbed a quick shower, trying to keep my left shoulder blade out of the water. Anything to make the henna tattoo on my back last longer. I would have skipped showering for another day or so if I weren’t going to see Dr. Preston.

I left for Myra’s bed and breakfast to help out with the morning chores. It was odd to think of it as Myra’s now and not Daddy and Myra’s. It may have been handed down several generations in my father’s family, but the truth was, it had been Myra’s place for some time. Daddy’s Alzheimer’s had stolen him from us years before his physical death.

Myra was sitting at her desk in the small office when I walked in through the back door, the heavenly smell of cinnamon rolls and bacon hitting me as soon as I entered.

“Good morning, Ellie.” Myra looked up and smiled, but dark circles underlined her almond-shaped eyes. My stepmother was second-generation Chinese, which drew quite a bit of curiosity when I introduced her as my mother. “How are you?”

I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m fine,” I lied. “How are
you
? You look tired.” I’d lost my daddy, but Myra had lost her husband. Sometimes I forgot I wasn’t the only one affected by his death.

“I am.” She closed her eyes and rested her cheek in her hand. “I’m working overtime at the park site, and we’re sold out here at the B&B for several weeks, which is good since we’re in financial trouble. But with the funeral . . . and everything . . . I’m having trouble keeping up with it all.”

I squatted next to her. “I’m sorry I haven’t helped more with the inn—”

She looked down into my face and cupped my cheek. “Ellie, you just lost your daddy, and not under normal circumstances. I don’t expect you to help. I expect you to grieve. You don’t even need to be here now.”

“What am I going to do, Myra? Sit around and wait . . . ” I stopped myself from saying “for the end of the world.” I had told Myra about Daddy sacrificing himself to close the gate, but I hadn’t told her that the supernatural beings had escaped before that happened. She had enough to worry about without adding fear for my safety to the mix.

“Wait for what?”

“Nothing. I’m being a bitch and feeling sorry for myself.”

She frowned. “Don’t say that.”

I rested my head on her lap, and she stroked my hair like she used to do when I was having nightmares as a girl.

“I love you, Ellie. I may not have had children of my own, but you know I consider you my daughter. I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”

I looked up into her face. “Myra, I barely remember my mother. Just bits and pieces. I love her, especially what she did for me.” I paused as the usual pang of guilt struck me. “But you’ve been there for me for all the big stuff. Makeup. Boys. Daddy.” My voice broke. “I know I call you Myra, but I think of you as my mom too.”

“Oh, Ellie.”

I rose to my knees and threw my arms around her neck.

She squeezed me tight. “We Lancaster women need to stick together.”

“We always have.” I hugged her again and stood up. “I’ll be able to help out more at the inn until the restaurant reopens.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to. The inn’s part mine too.”

The reminder looked like it pained her. Not because she didn’t want to share the ownership, but because it made her think about all the money I’d scraped together over the last couple of years to keep the bed and breakfast afloat.

“How have you been doing without working these past couple of weeks?” She looked worried. “Any word on when the New Moon is going to reopen?”

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The restaurant I worked at had been closed for two weeks because the manager had been found dead. “No. But Tom Helmsworth thinks all these mysterious deaths have something to do with me.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Are you in trouble?”

I gave a quick shake of my head. “No. If anything, he’s worried about me.”

Fear flickered in her eyes. “Is everything okay?”

My mouth lifted into a tight smile. “Of course.”

Myra had never believed in the curse. It had been pretty much the one and only long-standing argument between her and Daddy, especially when he tried to goad me into relearning everything I’d forgotten after my mother’s death. But on the night of Daddy’s death, Myra had seen Okeus’s messenger spirit—the one who had come to try to take Daddy’s soul. She had seen enough to make her a believer.

“They’re going to have to replace Marlena with a new manager.” My voice broke and I forced the hurt back down. Marlena was dead because of me. Just like Dwight, a guy I’d dated a few times, and Lila, one of the waitresses who’d worked with me. When I let the truth of their deaths sink deep down, I nearly collapsed with the guilt. But I reminded myself that I was just as much a victim as they were. I had never asked for this. Collin had just thrust it upon me. Their deaths weren’t on my head. They were on his. “I don’t know when they’ll reopen. But I can pick up hours on the lunch shift at Darrell’s Restaurant if I need money. They get all that courthouse business, and they’re busier than ever with the reappearance of the Lost Colony. They told me I had a job there if I want it.”

“You can always move back home, Ellie.”

“I know.” But I’d probably live on the street before I did that.