The Curse Keepers Collection (68 page)

I snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me.” That had proven true from my experiences as well.

He grabbed my right hand, and I resisted the urge to pull back. He spread my fingers open, revealing the mark on my palm. “What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?”

His eyebrows rose as he stared up at me. “Are you always this defensive?”

I forced my shoulders to relax. “I didn’t used to be.”

“But things have been crazy over the last few weeks?”

I gave him a soft smile. He’d thrown my words back at me. “Yeah.”

“This town must have been chaos when the village first appeared. I bet it’s like when Kennedy was assassinated and 9/11. People here will always remember what they were doing when it happened.”

He still held my hand, examining my mark. I didn’t answer, wondering why his touch made me feel equally tense and relaxed.

“What were
you
doing when you heard, Ellie?”

“Um . . . ” Why did he want to know? Idle curiosity? I doubted it, but I also saw no harm in answering. “I’m a waitress at the New Moon restaurant a couple of blocks away. I was working the lunch shift when the manager of Kitty Hawk Kites came in and told us.”

“Roanoke is such an important part of your life here in Manteo that it had to be traffic-stopping news. What was the first thing that came to mind when you heard the Lost Colony was no longer lost?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged in frustration.

“Yes you do. What was it?”

“Why do you want to know?”

A devilish grin crossed his face. “Indulge me.”

“I thought we’d get more tourists and would have to increase our shifts.”

“What else?”

I shot him an irritated look. I couldn’t tell him that I’d almost passed out when I heard the news, that it had confirmed the curse.

“Do you know what I thought?”

“What?”

“That this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get a look at a remarkably well-preserved archaeological site.” He lifted my hand again. “These are the symbols for the spiritual and earthly planes. They intersect. Why?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t design it.”

“Who did?”

My eyebrows rose, and I gave him a stubborn look.

“When did you get it? This one isn’t henna, is it?”

“No.”

“It had to hurt like bollocks. I can honestly say I’ve never met someone with a tattoo on their palm.”

“I’m one of a kind.”

He studied me again, with a different kind of interest this time. “I suspect that you are, Ellie Lancaster.”

A warm tingle spread throughout my abdomen.
Focus, Ellie.

His hand still cradled mine. “What caused the scar? It’s a perfect diagonal across the symbol, and it looks fresh.”

“I thought you had a PhD in history, not an MD.”

He laughed. “It doesn’t mean I don’t recognize a knife slash when I see one.” He looked up, his playfulness fading. “Was it a self-defense wound?”

I jerked my hand from his. He was too smart for his own good. “No. It wasn’t from self-defense.”

“But it was a knife, right?”

“Yes. I slipped with a knife while I was cutting onions.”

“When I was in the village today, one thought kept running through my head:
This isn’t normal
. Four-hundred-year-old villages do not just appear out of nowhere. The people’s skeletons are immaculate. There’s food in the pots. Fires that look like they’ve only just been extinguished. Have you been out there? Have you seen it?”

“No.” While it was on my radar, it hadn’t occurred to me that it could be a helpful source of information. Until his mention of Manteo’s hut earlier.

“Everyone is scratching their heads trying to find a logical explanation for
why
it just appeared this way, but there just isn’t one. This sort of thing just doesn’t happen. There has to be some other reason for it.”

“Supernatural?”

He lifted his eyebrows in question.

I had to turn this conversation around fast. “Dr. Preston, the supernatural isn’t real. I would think that you of all people would know that.”

He tilted his head with a smug look. “And yet you mark your doors with three-hundred-year-old symbols for protection.”

Four hundred, but pointing it out seemed unwise.

His eyes narrowed. “Do
you
know why the village appeared?”

“How would I know?”

He didn’t answer.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Any more ridiculous than a woman who seems completely sane telling me her life depends on finding out Ahone’s symbol?”

I pushed away from the desk and moved to the bookcase. I had more shelves to clear off. “We all have our little eccentricities. Especially those of us who live in small towns.”

“I told you I don’t know the symbol, but what if I told you that I might have a text that does?”

I twisted at the waist a little too eagerly.

“Is your life really in danger, Ellie?”

“Over the mark of a Croatan god?” I asked incredulously, turning back to the bookcase. “You yourself told me that the Croatan have been extinct for centuries.”

“So you don’t need the symbol?”

My hand froze midreach. Damn him. “I do.”

He shifted his weight, still perched on the edge of the desk. “Can it wait two weeks?”

I closed my eyes, resting my arm on the shelf. “No.”

“Can it wait two days?”

Could it? Ahone’s messenger had told me I had two or three days. At the moment, this seemed like my best hope.

“I own several texts that could possibly help, but I’ve loaned them to a friend in New York. I can get him to overnight them to me, but I still won’t get them for two days. I can even ask him to see if he can find the symbol and scan it.”

I turned to look at him. “You would do that? Why?”

“You said it was important. What kind of knight would I be if I let something happen to a damsel in distress?”

I’d been bullshitted before and look where that got me. “You had no qualms about letting me flounder in Chapel Hill. What changed?”

He straightened his posture and moved toward me. David Preston was not only intelligent and good-looking, he was also built. He towered over me and I could see muscles straining against his shirt. “You want the truth?”

I looked up into his hazel eyes. “Always.”

“Then how about we make a deal to only tell each other the truth.”

I hesitated.

“And if either one of us doesn’t feel comfortable sharing the truth, we can plead the fifth.”

I shook my head. “Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?”

His mouth turned down in a frown. “Some wanker’s done a number on you, huh?”

“Wanker?” He had no idea. “Let’s just say I’ve been burned one time too many.”

“So at the risk of scaring you off, here’s the truth: I’m intrigued. First this attractive young woman shows up in my office looking for help and I turn her away. Then I go to see the biggest archaeological find in recorded history and not only is she there, but she’s at the center of this fascinating riddle that begs to be solved, holding pieces of information no one else knows. Have you heard the story of the Great Horned Serpent?”

This man’s conversation shifted from topic to topic enough to give me whiplash. Had I heard of Mishiginebig? He wanted the truth. “Not until a few days ago.”

“It has many names and crosses multiple tribes—the Algonquian, the Cherokee, the Cree. I heard three different people mention it today. Only not by name. They said someone saw a giant horned snake.”

“So?”

“The last time I heard someone mention a giant snake was on the Discovery Channel.”

I was having trouble keeping my breathing even.

“What’s with all the animals dropping dead on the island and the surrounding area?” he went on. “It all started around the time when the colony reappeared.”

“Why ask me?”

“What about the wild animal that’s been attacking dogs and eating their hearts?”

I swallowed the bile in my throat.

“Back on campus, you asked me if I’d ever heard of such a creature. Why did you connect it with an Algonquian legend? No one else did. And you’re the only one who has called it a badger.”

I stared into his intense eyes, wondering what kind of Pandora’s box I had just opened. My heart was thudding so hard, he had to hear it. He believed me, or at least he didn’t think I was a stark-raving lunatic. “You think that I’m part of all this, that I’m some riddle to be solved?”

“More like an enigma.”

I looked down, unable to hold his gaze.

“I think you know something most people don’t, but you only know pieces and you need someone to fill in the blanks. Which is why you came to see me.”

I turned to the window.

“I bet you’re dying to know what’s in Manteo’s hut.”

He had no idea. “I suspect I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but
you
could. Did you see it?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d like to help you if you’ll let me. But I want to know the rest of what you know.”

Did he even know what he was asking? I stepped backward to lean against the desk, feeling light-headed. Was it too much to hope that I’d found someone who not only had answers but was eager and willing to help me?

“Does that upset you?”

“Not in the way you think.”

“Will you let me help you?”

“How do you know I’m not some crazy woman? Or this isn’t some big practical joke? How do you know you can trust me?”

“I just do.”

I sat down on the edge of the desk again. This was so completely different from my experience with Collin. Maybe I
could
trust him. “You might have answers to so many of my questions . . . But I have to warn you, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to get mixed up with me. It’s dangerous.”

He grinned. “You
do
know that the best way to get a guy to help you is by challenging him by saying, ‘You can’t handle it.’”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re just making me more intrigued.”

How could I turn down his offer? I needed him. “Okay. But we’ll start out slow. I’m still not sure it’s a good idea to let you in on what’s happening.”

His eyes lit up like I’d given him a Christmas present. “I can live with that.” He held out his right hand to shake.

I extended my hand and his engulfed mine. I waited for the familiar call of the Manitou that I always felt with Collin, but I felt peace and acceptance instead. How could I feel so comfortable with someone I’d just met?

But as we shook, the significance of the event sobered me. By accepting his help, I was dragging him into danger. Could I let him help and live with the consequences? Could I afford not to?

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

Still holding my hand, David turned it over. “So what’s with the mark?”

I shook my head and blinked. “You really don’t waste any time.”

“From what you said, time isn’t on our side.”

Our side?
My
side. There was no
our
anymore. Not after Collin. David might be helping me, but I was still on my own when it came to fighting the gods and spirits. I walked across the room, running my hand through my hair. “I’m the one setting the rules for now, and I need a crash course on the Algonquian gods and spirits.”

He didn’t look too happy, but he didn’t argue either. “All of them?”

“As many as you know about.”

“I haven’t had dinner yet. Are you hungry?”

Again with the lightning-fast change in topic. “Uh . . . ” I’d worked through dinner, and the thought of food made my stomach growl. I looked around at the mess I’d made. I could stay here and keep looking for notes that might not even exist, or I could eat with a man who had answers. The decision was obvious. “I’d make something, but Myra only seems to be stocked with breakfast food and snacks. I help her out, but I don’t actually live here. How about we walk a couple of blocks down to Poor Richard’s Pub and get takeout? Then we can go back to my apartment. I’d rather talk about this in private, anyway.”

“What about the mess here?”

I considered leaving it and closing the door, but Myra would ask all kinds of questions I didn’t want to answer. “It’ll just take a couple of minutes for me to clean up. Do you need to go upstairs to get anything?”