The Curse Keepers Collection (7 page)

By the time Claire showed up, I’d changed into pajamas. She pelted me with questions before I had the door shut.

“So what’s he like?”

“Who?”

She flopped on my sofa and crossed her legs. “Who do you think? The other Keeper.”

I sat across from her and leaned back, putting my feet in her lap. “He’s young.”

“And?”

“And nothing. And he’s not a Keeper. He’s just a crazy person.”

“Ellie, you have to admit that this might be real.”

“You do realize that you are an unreliable sounding board? You lead a ghost tour every night and believe half the stories you tell.” I sat up, crossing my legs. “Weren’t you leading your tour when I called?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but Drew took over.”

Closing my eyes, I groaned. “Oh, Claire. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. This is big.” She leaned forward. “We need to list everything you know about the curse. Maybe the two of us can piece it together.” Hopping off the sofa, she rummaged through a drawer in my kitchen. She pulled out a notebook and pen, waved them in the air in triumph, then sat down.

I shook my head. “Why are we doing this? There is no curse.”

“Fine. You’re right.” A smug grin pinched her mouth. “But if you don’t believe in the curse, then you won’t mind if I take what we know about it and use the information in my ghost tour. I’ll tell them all about the pact between Manteo, the man our town is named after, and Ananias Dare, the father of Virginia Dare, the first English child born on American soil. Crap. The tourists eat this shit up.”

Panicked, I grabbed her arm. “No! You can’t do that! You know the curse is a secret!
You’re
not even supposed to know. Terrible things happen when the Keepers share the secret.” I didn’t believe that was true, not fully, but it was a lot like the game of Bloody Mary. I didn’t believe in that either, but you sure wouldn’t catch me in front of my bathroom mirror reciting her name three times.

Claire’s eyebrows shot up, and she jabbed a finger into my chest. “Aha! You
do
think there might be something to it; otherwise why would you care if anyone knew?”

She still hadn’t made the connection, the terrible thing that had happened after I told her about the curse. Maybe it was too much for her to accept. Too devastating.

But her enthusiasm was contagious, although the enthusiasm mutated in me to a growing anxiety. I had to admit that I was starting to believe this might be real. “Claire, this is crazy.”

Claire began her litany of facts, writing as she spoke. “The curse was laid over four hundred years ago by Manteo, the son of the werowance, the chief of the Croatan tribe, and Ananias Dare, son-in-law of the governor of the colony. They created a curse to bind the spirits of the hostile neighboring tribe.” Claire stopped to take a breath.

“And it went horribly wrong,” I added, with a groan. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. “They bound Manteo’s spirits instead. Along with the colony. The colonists and spirits were sent to the spirit world, but Manteo knew that the spirits were strong and would eventually break free. The colonists would likely return at the same time, but not alive. No human can go into the spirit realm and return to tell about it.”

Lightning flashed in the window and a clap of thunder shook the windows. I jumped at the timing. I’d forgotten a storm was rolling in.

Claire grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “Go on.”

“This is stupid.
That man
is crazy.” Sexy as hell, but crazy as a loon. Even though I’d recently established I was no expert on men, I was pretty sure this was a bad combination.

“Then try to remember what you can and confront him with it to prove him wrong.”

“You can’t reason with a crazy person, Claire.”

“What if he’s right?”

“This isn’t an episode of
The Twilight Zone
. He’s crazy.”

“Will you please just
humor me
?” She leaned over her crossed legs, her gaze begging me to cooperate. “I’ve waited for this day since you told me about the curse in the third grade.”

“And if Daddy ever knew I told you, he’d skin me alive.” I tried to ignore the memory of what had happened to my mother only days after I told Claire.
What happened to Momma was a coincidence.

Claire frowned. “He told Myra.”

“Supposedly spouses are allowed.”

“I’d marry you, but I’m already engaged to Drew. Besides, you hardly told me
anything
.”

Maybe not, but it had been enough.

My hands shook. This was ridiculous. I’d spent several years thinking it was my fault that Momma died until I matured enough to realize the two events were unrelated. How could my mind jump back there so easily?

My mouth twisted into a grimace and I sighed. “If we’re going to do this, let’s get serious.” I leaned back with my elbows propped on the sofa arm behind me. “The legend says that the curse would be broken someday, when the two Keepers met. I find it hard to believe that in over four hundred years, their paths never crossed.”

“I have to admit that
is
strange. Your daddy says your family always lived close to or on Roanoke Island. But we both know that the Croatan’s land was farther south, on Cape Hatteras. Maybe they stayed down in that area.”

“Maybe.” I dug through my memories, sifting out what might be useful. It was hard to believe that there was hardly anything left of all the stories Daddy told me. When I searched for anything more than the basic facts, I hit a giant brick wall.

“How do you close the gate?”

“Honestly, other than knowing there’s some kind of ceremony, I have no idea.” I couldn’t remember anything about what the ceremony entailed. Or anything about the spirits, or how to protect myself. If, God forbid, this thing was real, something deep inside me told me I’d need to protect myself.

Claire shook her head. “Then you’re in a world of shit. Aren’t the spirits supposed to come back angry and vengeful?”

“Well, wouldn’t you be if you had been locked up for over four hundred years?”

“Good point.” We were silent for a minute before Claire flopped forward and grabbed my hand. “Seriously, this is all you can remember?”

“Do you not remember how all this curse business just vanished after Momma died? It was there, in my head, and then it wasn’t.” And whenever Daddy tried to teach me all over again, I’d shut him down. As a little girl who believed her mother died because of the curse—and because of me—I wanted nothing to do with it. I was grateful all of that nonsense died with my mother. Until now.

“Will you at least consider that this might be real?”

The evidence was beginning to stack up, but just because I’d found someone else who believed in the curse didn’t make it real. Kids all over the world believed in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and it didn’t make
them
real. “Two things could convince me the curse is real. The first is if the Lost Colony shows up out of nowhere. The colony is supposed to return when the gate to the spirit world is cracked open. No colony, no open gate.”

“And the second?”

“If I come face-to-face with a spirit.”

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

Claire stayed late and watched a movie with me to help me get my mind off everything. By the time she left, I was exhausted, but the storm and my worry kept me awake for hours. When it was time to get up to go help Myra at the Dare Inn, I would have given anything to hit the snooze button and sleep in until noon.

The humidity made my hair a thick mess of waves, so I pulled it back into a ponytail and opened the front door, only to release a startled scream. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. Seven dead birds littered my front porch.

The birds were laid out in a weird pattern. Six of them had their feet all turned toward the center of a radiating spoked circle, their heads pointing out. Five were blackbirds and one was a robin. A cardinal lay in the center of the circle. Was this some sick joke? How did they get there?

The first person who came to mind was Collin. This had to be his way of tricking or scaring me into helping him do God knew what. I may have been close to believing in the curse in the dark of night with Claire, Manteo’s resident ghost chaser, but in the bright sunlight, I saw how ridiculous it was. I’d lost my breath because I’d freaked out. People had panic attacks. I was under enough stress lately that it would explain a panic attack even though I’d never had one before. As for the mark on my hand, Collin must put have put some kind of stamp on it when he grabbed me in the diner. He’d used permanent ink too, because no amount of scrubbing could get the mark off.

One thing was certain: whoever put the birds on my porch was sick and twisted. One more reason to be leery of Collin Dailey.

I had to figure out what to do with the dead birds. I couldn’t just leave them there. I had half a mind to call the police, but how would I explain my suspicions about Collin without telling them about the curse? I couldn’t. After my mother’s death, I swore I’d never tell another living soul about it again. That wretched curse was dying with me. I was going to have to deal with this on my own.

I went back inside and got a broom and a paper bag. Carefully, I swept the birds into the sack, gagging the entire time. When I finished, I locked up my apartment, making sure the deadbolt was set, then dumped the paper bag into the Dumpster before walking to the bed and breakfast.

When I reached the street corner across the street, I took in the sight of my family’s inn. It wasn’t fancy like the Doe Inn down the street, but it had its own quaint charm. The bed and breakfast was made up of two buildings: the main house, which had multiple rooms on the first and second floors, and the residential house, which held a few other guest rooms in the back as well as the laundry. The exterior clapboard was painted a crisp white with black shutters. Both buildings sported new roofs that had been installed about a month ago.

I’d grown up in the residential house with Momma and Daddy, and then with Myra when Daddy eventually remarried. The Dare Inn had been part of the Lancaster family since the eighteen hundreds, but whenever I saw the place, it filled me with dread. I couldn’t wait to move out after I graduated from high school. Nevertheless, I felt an obligation to help maintain it, even if that meant working for free and chipping in for repairs.

Dwight accused me of living off Daddy and Myra. He had no idea that I’d paid for that roof, as well as part of Daddy’s respite care so Myra could work part time at the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site visitor center. If business at the Dare Inn didn’t start to bring in more money, Myra would be forced to sell it and Daddy would lose the only home he’d ever known. With his Alzheimer’s confusion, that might prove detrimental to his condition.

Myra stood on the back porch, cradling a cup of coffee. Her shoulder sagged into a post while she watched me walk up. “How did your date go last night?”

I was worried about her. She looked exhausted most days, and I was sure it was taxing to take care of the inn, and Daddy, as well as her job at the visitor center.

I moved past her with a fake growl. “Don’t ask.”

She pushed away and followed me in the back door. “That bad, huh?”

“Well, at least we got a partially paid roof out of it.” I instantly regretted my statement as soon as it left my mouth. I’d met Dwight fighting the insurance company to reimburse us for part of the repairs after the hurricane.

Myra’s face tightened with guilt. “Ellie, I’ll pay you back every cent.”

I gave her a smile. “Oh, Myra. You know I don’t mind. I’m just investing in my future.” We both knew that was a lie. Neither one of us expected me to inherit the inn. The bed and breakfast was on life support, and we were just trying to keep it going as long as possible. Which is why I worked there twice a day, every day, with no pay. I could get a job at the Tranquil House Inn if I wanted—and some days I really wanted to. I was tired of constantly being short on money.

Myra rested her hand on my arm. “You can always move back home, Ellie. You know you’re always welcome here.”