The Curse Keepers Collection (53 page)
Read The Curse Keepers Collection Online
Authors: Denise Grover Swank
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Romantic, #Ghosts
To my daughter Jenna, who loves to create stories almost as much as I do
C
ONTENTS
C
HAPTER
O
NE
The rain came down in thick sheets, drenching through my cotton tank top and denim shorts. I welcomed it. I welcomed anything that made me feel something.
I stood inside of the Elizabethan Gardens, next to the goddamned tree that had ruined my life more than four hundred years before I was even born. The gate to Popogusso.
The gate to hell.
And my daddy was on the other side.
I leaned back my head and shouted into the night, taunting the god who had sent him there. “Ahone! Come out and face me, you fucking asshole!”
The only answer was the rain that pelted my face and filled my open mouth.
I spat on the ground and slapped my palm on the rough bark of the ancient oak tree. The mark that had appeared on my hand almost three weeks ago had power, after all, but that power was so much stronger when my mark was pressed to the identical one on the other Curse Keeper’s right palm.
His betrayal sliced through me again. It was still impossible to believe that Collin had purposefully opened the gate.
I’d forced him to close it again. But at what cost? The Native American gods and spirits had still escaped and now they were in hiding, killing hundreds of animals as they regained the strength they’d lost over their centuries of exile. And my father had died as a sacrifice. The gate might be closed again, but it would take two Keepers to send the gods and spirits back. Which meant the assholes weren’t going anywhere since Collin believed they should be free.
Even if they were after me.
“Okeus! Where are you? You said you wanted me, well here I am!” I stepped back from the tree, throwing my arms wide. “Come and get me!” Taunting him was pointless, but I felt the need to rage at someone. A temporarily incapacitated god probably wasn’t the best choice, but it was safe enough for the moment. He had to regain strength before he could face anyone . . . even me.
Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder boomed.
“Ellie.”
I spun around, my long wet hair whipping against my arm. Tom Helmsworth, an old high school classmate of mine, stood behind me, hands on his hips. I suspected he was here in his official capacity—as a police officer of Manteo. “How’d you know I was here?”
“Every time a thunderstorm appears out of nowhere directly over the botanical gardens, it’s a safe bet that you’ll be here too.”
Fucking wind gods. They loved to torment me every chance they got.
“You can’t bring him back, Ellie.”
I knew Tom meant that I couldn’t bring Daddy back from the dead, but Daddy hadn’t died under ordinary circumstances. For all I knew, I
could
bring him back.
Tom took a few cautious steps toward me, and I understood why. The first few times he’d found me here, I was crying and kneeling on the spot where Daddy died. Two nights ago, he had found me pounding on the tree. Tonight I was shouting at the gods. Sadness had slipped into anger.
How much had he actually heard?
He stopped in front of me. “You can’t keep doing this. I haven’t arrested you because I know how hard it was for you to lose your dad. Everyone knows how close you two were.” He put his hand on my arm and gripped lightly.
His touch sent a bolt of pain through the zigzag scar on my bicep, and I tried not to wince.
Tom bent his knees and lowered his face to mine, his expression gentle. “Ellie, this is illegal. You’re trespassing.”
I looked back at the oak tree. Someone needed to tell that to the gods.
“You need to go home.”
Tom slid his arm around my back and gently guided me toward the gate. “Let me drive you.”
I shook away from his touch. “I can drive myself.”
His eyebrows rose. “Can you?”
I stopped in my tracks. “You think I’ve been drinking.”
“Ellie.” His voice softened and he looked down at me, water dripping from his bangs. “You’re hurting. There’s no shame in drinking a little to numb your grief, but I can’t let you drive and hurt yourself or someone else.”
“I’m not drunk, Tom.”
“Nevertheless, I’m going to drive you home.” His mouth lifted into a smart-ass grin. “Unless you’d rather I drive you to the police station.”
Some choice. “Fine.”
As soon as we reached the parking lot, the torrential downpour immediately stopped. If Tom noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead, he guided me toward his police cruiser, which was parked next to my beat-up car. Tom opened the passenger door for me. I offered him a tight smile and climbed in. At least he was letting me ride up front.
He made his way around the back of the car and popped the trunk. After he climbed behind the wheel, he tossed me a beach towel. “Here.”
I grabbed it. “I didn’t know towels were standard issue in a police car.”
He chuckled, using another towel to dry his face. “They’re not. But I was a Boy Scout.”
He must have stopped to grab the towels before driving out here. “Why are you being so nice to me, Tom?”
He stopped rubbing his hair with the towel and slowly lowered his hand to his lap. “Maybe we weren’t in the same grade, but we were friends through Claire’s sister.” He paused and tilted his head. “And I know that you’re all alone now that your dad’s gone. You don’t have any grandparents around. No aunts and uncles. No siblings.”
“I have Myra. And Claire.”
“True,” he acknowledged. “But Claire is getting ready for her wedding. And your stepmother is in mourning herself, not to mention all the overtime she’s putting in at the Fort Raleigh visitor center and the bed and breakfast.”
My eyes widened. He must have really been paying attention to my life to know all of that. I wasn’t sure I liked it.
“You need someone to keep an eye on you.”
My back stiffened. A few weeks ago someone else had insisted on keeping an eye on me whether I liked it or not. Look how that had turned out. “I can take care of myself.”
“No one’s disputing that. I just feel better watching out for you.”
It was pointless to argue with him so I stared out the windshield as we drove down Highway 64 back to Manteo.
A voice over his police radio broke the silence. “Helmsworth, we got a call about another mutilated dog off of Highway 64.”
Tom’s shoulders stiffened and he cast a sideways glance at me before answering. “Roger. I picked up a stranded driver, and I’m dropping her off in town before I head out there.”
“Roger.” The dispatcher gave Tom the address.
“Mutilated dog?” I asked, my stomach churning with dread. Had the spirits’ campaign of terrorism escalated?
Tom groaned. “As if animals dropping dead all over the island wasn’t bad enough, now something is attacking dogs and ripping their guts out without eating them.”
“What do you think it is?”
Tom’s eyebrows lifted. “Why don’t you tell me.”
My stomach dropped to the floorboard. “How would I know?”
Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry, it’s been a rough few weeks.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
“So, Ellie.” Tom shifted in his seat. “What do you know about the Native American gods?”
What
had
he heard? I shrugged. “Not much. Why do you ask?”
“Well . . . ” His hand twisted on the steering wheel. “It just seems a little odd for a woman who can practically trace her ancestry back to the
Mayflower
to be shouting at Algonquian gods.”
I could go back further than that. I was a direct descendant of Ananias Dare of the Lost Colony of Roanoke, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Especially when all the history books said there were no survivors. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I notice you’re still marking your door with those symbols.”
I twisted in my seat. “Are you investigating me?”
Tom parked at a stoplight and turned to look at me. “Ellie, two weeks ago there was a local death every day for four days and each person had ties to you. Of course I’m investigating you.”
My mouth dropped open, my anger rising to the surface again. “You really think I’d kill my own father?”
His face lost all expression. “I thought your father had a heart attack.”
Shit
.
“Ellie, I’ve known you since you started kindergarten. There’s no way in hell you killed anyone, least of all your father.”
I turned away, trying to get it together. Tom was trained to get information from people. I needed to start thinking before I spoke, not a natural impulse for me.
The light turned green and Tom drove through the intersection. “So are you going to tell me the real reason why you have those marks on your front door?”
I didn’t answer.
“When I asked you after Marlena’s death, you said it was for protection. Protection from what?”
I closed my eyes and resisted the urge to shake my head. “I told you—it was insurance.”