The Curse Keepers (Curse Keepers series) Read online

  How much had he heard?

  He stopped in front of Claire, whose mouth now gaped. “I’m Collin. I don’t think we’ve been officially introduced. Yesterday in the storeroom doesn’t count.”

  “Claire,” she mumbled.

  “What are you doing here, Collin?” I forced irritation in my voice. I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I was glad he was here.

  My tone didn’t faze him as he continued on his seduction track. “I can’t let you wander around in the dark alone, now can I? And we have a date.”

  Our date was my henna tattoo application, but Claire didn’t know that. She beamed with excitement.

  Before I realized what was happening, Collin pulled me to his chest. I had to put my hands on his shoulders to keep from stumbling. He wrapped an arm around my back, his hold tight enough that I couldn’t get loose without a fight. I searched his face, trying to find signs of head trauma. Because brain injury was the only explanation I could come up with for his behavior.

  A sexy grin spread slowly across his face, as though he had a secret. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I can’t wait to get another look at your ass.”

  Irritation rippled through my body. He was playing me in front of Claire. This was payback for casting him in the role of my flaming gay friend Enrique. I wasn’t about to admit defeat.

  I lowered my eyelids and looked up through my lashes, putting some heat in my voice. “I’ve been thinking about you too.” I lifted my hand to his cheek, my fingertips trailing over the stumble of his five o’clock shadow. “And I can’t wait for you to see my ass.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes, and then he grinned. The player was getting played and he knew it. The question was how far were we going to take this before one of us called uncle?

  His other hand found my waist and skimmed up my back, pulling me even closer. “I’m going to undress you slowly so I can take in every inch of your perfect body.”

  Holy shit, he played dirty. I reminded myself this was a game, but my body refused to listen.

  Claire continued to watch us, practically melting into a pile of goo. Collin was obviously quite pleased with himself.

  I ran my fingertip over his over his lower lip and looked into his eyes, smiling seductively. “You have no idea how much I want that.” I slid my hand to his neck and stood on my tiptoes, my mouth so close to his, I felt his breath on my cheek. “But won’t your boyfriend get jealous?”

  He laughed, still holding onto me.

  I’d won. “Good try, Collin. You’re a terrible con. Stick to the thievery.”

  “Maybe you’re just immune to my charm. Like a mutant.”

  I was most definitely not immune to his charm, but the mutant issue was still up for debate.

  He dropped his hold and stepped back. The hot night air pushed between us, but my body felt cold and lonely without him pressed against me. With all the men I had dated, I had never once felt a fraction of what I felt in Collin’s arms. And that was dangerous.

  Claire shook her head in confusion. “What just happened here?”

  I gave her a face. “Collin was paying me back for something I did to him this afternoon.” I had no doubt he had heard more of my conversation with Claire than I would have liked. “He has zero interest in me.”

  Collin smirked until Claire turned to him with her steely gaze. “You’re shitting me, right? You claim to have no interest in her? At all?”

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise and he stammered. “I…” There was no right way to answer her questions, but it was fun to watch him sweat.

  “I saw the chemistry between you two, and I’m pretty damn sure I need a cigarette now. Or two. I definitely need to go home and get laid.”

  “Claire!”

  “You two keep lying to yourselves, but what a waste.” She turned toward the sidewalk. “Call me later.”

  As she walked away, I turned my wrath on Collin. “Not funny, Collin.”

  His gaze found mine, his face completely serious. “Who said I had no interest in you?”

  I couldn’t deal with his games right now. “My shift ends in fifteen minutes. You can either wait for me here or wait in my apartment.”

  “You’d let me into your apartment without you?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, why not? It’s not like you’d steal anything from me, would you?”

  He grinned. “And face your fiery, redheaded temper? No thanks. With it getting dark, I’d rather keep you in eyesight. I think I’ll get a beer and wait for you here.”

  I tossed my head. “Whatever. What do you want?”

  “The house pale ale.”

  I put my hand on my hip and leered. “And here I took you for a stout man.” I spun around before he could answer, but I heard his laughter when I went inside.

  I had to work about ten minutes later than scheduled, but Collin sat on the patio, drinking his bottle of beer and watching the crowd. His shoulders were tight, and I knew him well enough to know that he was on edge. I suspected it had nothing to do with what happened between us earlier and more to do with the fact that I was fair game to vengeful gods.

  Marlena, who had seen the whole incident on the patio, was beside herself. “While I don’t usually encourage that type of behavior in the workplace, I can’t say that I’m sorry it happened. Please tell me he’s waiting for you so you can take him home.”

  “Yes, I’m taking him home.” I was sure I’d later regret telling her, but it gave her momentary happiness. Who was I to take that away from her?

  Collin stood when he saw me come out, ever the attentive date. Hardly anyone was around to pay attention so I wasn’t sure who the show was for. We walked to his truck, the windows down as always.

  “Aren’t you worried someone will steal it or anything in it?”

  “No. The beauty of driving something like this is that no one wants it or thinks anything worth stealing is inside it.” He reached in the window and pulled out a shopping bag.

  “Where are the henna supplies?”

  “In here. Along with other things.” He lingered on the words. What did that mean?

  After we went upstairs and into my apartment and Collin began to pull candles out of his bag and set them on the coffee table. “Where do you want it?”

  Why was he putting out candles? “Want what?”

  “Your mark. Have you decided where you want it?”

  “No. We were so busy tonight I didn’t have much time to think about it. Why is yours over your heart?”

  He stood several feet way. He simultaneously felt much too close and agonizingly too far away. “It’s a reminder that the Curse Keeper magic flows within our blood, and that our hearts must be pure to carry out our duty.”

  Collin Dailey’s heart pure? I wanted to laugh, but he was so close he was stealing my breath.

  He studied me with a serious expression. “I’ve been thinking about it and I think the tattoo should be close to your heart. There aren’t any rules about it, but the heart holds magical powers. The closer to your heart, the safer you’ll be.”

  “I don’t want to put it on my chest.”

  “You don’t have to.” How could he make four ordinary words sound sexy? Did he even know what he was doing to me, or was exuding pheromones as natural as breathing for him? “I don’t want to put it there anyway.”

  “Why?”

  His gaze dropped to my chest and he started to say something, then stopped. “I think we should put it on your back. If we put it on your left shoulder blade, it will still be over your heart.”

  “And the henna will be temporary?”

  “Yes.”

  Why did this make me so nervous? “So what do we need to do?”

  “I need to set everything up. Do you have to go to the bathroom or get something to eat?”

  “Still concerned about my bodily functions?” I teased.

  Again he started to say something and stopped. “So are you telling me that you’re ready?”
/>   “No.” I disappeared into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror, caught off guard. I looked different. My cheeks were slightly flushed, my eyes brighter than usual. Had Collin done this to me? Was it the Curse Keeper magic?

  I considered changing clothes. I was wearing a khaki skirt for work and my white blouse, the same one I’d worn all day. It was still dirty, but I hadn’t had a clean white shirt to wear to work. Besides, I wasn’t sure what one wore to a marking ceremony, and I didn’t want Collin to think I cared about what I wore around him. Even if I did.

  When I went back into the living room, the smell of lemons practically knocked me over. Collin was at the kitchen counter mixing a brown paste in a plastic bowl. He looked up as I walked in. “I’m mixing the henna.”

  “Okay.” I reminded myself this was temporary. Claire had several tattoos, but they were too permanent to suit me. I couldn’t even commit to a shampoo brand. How could I permanently mark my body?

  When Collin finished, he set the bowl on the coffee table as well as a spray bottle and several wooden sticks. “I’m going to start now, so you can’t talk, okay? We want this to work and we want the protection symbol to be strong. I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen. I’m going to add some elements that aren’t in the normal ceremony. Usually the mark is just a symbol of our commitment. For the first time in four hundred years, its purpose is real.”

  I nodded.

  “Stay over by the bar until I motion for you.” He began to set white pillar candles in a circle around the sofa, lighting them while he chanted something in his ancient language. One candle remained unlit. Collin stood in front of it and reached a hand toward me.

  I hesitated while Collin studied my face, his hand still extended. I was placing my life in his hands. He had the power to protect me. And the power to condemn me. Why should I doubt his intentions? He needed me just as much as I needed him. While I had no delusions that he cared about me, I also couldn’t believe he wanted to cause me harm. In the end, it didn’t matter. I needed this mark of protection. I was as good as dead without it. But I also realized that I could never go back to who I was before. I’d never be that Ellie again.

  I reached my hand toward him but held back just inches away. Why did this feel so significant? So pregnant with possibilities and heartache? I looked into his eyes and saw a man I didn’t recognize. He wasn’t Collin Dailey, the man of questionable character. He was Collin Dailey, descendant of Manteo, Keeper of the Curse.

  I put my hand in his and stepped inside the circle.

  Collin bent over and lit the last candle, then led me toward the sofa. He stopped in front of it, his eyes on mine, his expression so stoic it made me nervous. Collin Dailey cared about nothing and no one, but Collin Dailey the Curse Keeper bore his responsibility seriously.

  Then he began to chant, words I didn’t understand, but power swirled around us. My mark tingled, and I closed my eyes. Collin began to unbutton my shirt, and I let him, my body alive with magic and lust. I wanted him to take off my shirt. I wanted him to do so much more.

  His fingers brushed against the skin of my chest, and he slowly pulled my blouse open, lingering at my shoulders and sliding it down my arms. This must be what it was like to be seduced by Collin. Tonight, even if just for one night, I was going to let myself pretend he was seducing me.

  My shirt fell to the floor, but Collin’s hands remained on my arms, so feather light he gave me chills. Would he think my goose bumps were due to cold or desire? Did it matter?

  His hands glided up my arms, to my neck and then my face, as he continued to chant. He cupped my cheeks, the heels of his palms resting on my jaw, his fingers barely stroking my skin. I opened my eyes, surprised at the intensity on his face. His mouth moved as the soft guttural sounds escaped, and I became mesmerized by his lips.

  The words changed tempo and tone. Collin gently trailed his hands to my shoulders, his fingers pressing with tenderness as he pushed me down to sit on the sofa. He turned me gently, so that I faced the door. His fingers moved down my back, one hand sweeping my braid over my right shoulder with a softness I didn’t expect. He inserted a finger under my left bra strap and slowly slid it over my shoulder and down my arm. Then Collin’s chanting became louder and more insistent as his palm rested on my shoulder blade and a force surged in me, heat radiating out from Collin’s hand.

  My eyelids sank closed. Never had I felt this way with a man. It had to be the power that flowed through our veins. Magic and hunger stirred inside me, summoned by Collin, both through his words and his touch.

  His hands were on my shoulders again, urging me forward so that my chest was on the sofa. His words changed again as his right hand left my body. And then I felt something wet touch my back, and Collin began to paint, my skin tingling with power with every stroke.

  The design on Collin’s chest was intricate, and I knew he was duplicating his own mark on my back. He spent several minutes drawing and reciting the ancient words. When the design was complete, he sprayed something cold on my skin, and the smell of lemons permeated the room. I suppressed the shiver that crawled up my spine.

  His hands cupped my shoulders again and gently pulled me to my feet, turning me slowly, ever so slowly. When I faced him, he removed his hands. My eyes flew open at the loss. He took a step back and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. Then he moved toward me, until only inches separated us. Again we were face-to-face and shirtless. But this was different. So very different.

  His right hand reached for mine, raising it and opening my fingers. He traced the mark on my palm before placing my hand over the mark on his chest, resting his heavy, strong hand over mine.

  I looked up at him in wonder as his eyes closed. He still chanted the ancient words. My fingers stretched and flexed, the hair on his chest tickling my fingertips. Heat blazed through my palm, reaching out for the heat of Collin’s mark. His muscles tensed, and he inhaled, his recitation louder and more intense.

  Collin’s eyelids eased open, and he moved my hand away, holding it between us. He released his grip, and his right hand rose to meet mine, pressing our palms together and lacing our fingers. As our marks aligned, the two halves of our power became one.

  Then the universe opened and sang.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The rush of power sucked my breath away. I was aware of everything at once, the Manitou of every living thing. Plants, animals, people. Bacteria, insects, fungus. The pulse and throb of their life force echoed around me. Inside me. Through me.

  I was aware of the wind and the water, the earth and stars. The sand dunes in Nags Head, the ocean waves of the Atlantic, the storm brewing fifty miles away. I was in the center of the universe. I was outside the universe. I was everywhere at once.

  What I experienced in the warehouse in Buxton was only a small sample of what I felt now. I wasn’t just a Keeper of the Curse; I was a Keeper of the Manitou of every living thing threatened by the gods and spirits. I felt the loss of the dead birds we’d seen over the last two days, the unbalance it caused. And more I hadn’t even known about. Deer in the forest. Cows on a farm on the mainland. Dogs, cats, raccoons. The Manitou cried for the loss.

  It was up to me and the man before me to right the wrongs.

  A magic more ancient than gods, as old as the birth of the world, flowed through our veins. Manteo hadn’t simply used the power of the Croatan gods to create the curse; he’d appealed to a much older force.

  The birth of the world began with the earth and the water. I was the child of the water, born of the sea. Collin was the child of the earth, born of the land. We were the yin and yang of the Curse.

  I looked up at Collin, seeing the same rapture on his face that I felt. I could feel his heart beating in his chest. The inhale and exhale of his lungs. The hair follicles on his skin standing on end. We were linked together by a force older than the world. By power that was strengthened with our union.

  His lip
s parted in surprise as his gaze lowered to my face, and I realized that he’d stopped his chant. His fingers tightened over my hand, squeezing our palms tighter. His free hand wrapped around me, his palm pressing into the small of my back. We were skin to skin from the waist up with the exception of my bra, the rise and fall of our chests synchronized.

  My skin tingled, burning with the ancient force and longing. I brought my left hand to his chest, the need to have every part of my body touch him overpowering all reason. His fingers moved higher up my back, flexing and gripping to my skin as though he felt the same way.

  I lifted my chin, looking deep into Collin’s eyes. The blatant desire staring back at me made me want him even more. I slid my hand up his neck, my fingertips trailing over his pulse. His lips parted more, his breath coming in shorter gasps. I wanted to taste him, to nip his lower lip and run my tongue over it. To mingle our breaths in an attempt to join even more. Instead, I watched and waited. This was Collin’s ceremony. I was only a participant.

  He lowered his face, his hooded eyes concentrating on my lips. I stretched my neck, my lips drawn to his, but he stopped short, his hot breath fanning on my face. I breathed him in, wanting every part of him that he was willing to offer.

  “Ellie.” My name uttered by his tongue sent chills up my spine.

  I needed him, more than the air that I breathed. I was his. He only had to ask.

  His hand pulled away from my back and cupped the side of my head, tilting it upward. His breath was hard and fast. I felt the desire coursing through his blood, the proof of it pressed against my body. I waited for him to touch his lips to mine, but he remained agonizing inches away.

  He moved closer in slow motion, our lips a hairbreadth apart.

  I only had to stand on my tiptoes to reach him, but I wanted him to be the one to close the distance. To join with me.

  And he did.

  He kissed me with a gentleness I didn’t expect, a hesitancy that surprised me. I kissed him back with more eagerness, and he released a groan before matching my fervor. His hand on my face moved around to the back of my head, holding me close while his tongue delved into my mouth.