Autumn

by Sierra Dean

  “Help me? Help me?” Cooper snorted and reached for the keys again. “I’d rather lay down in the middle of the highway and ask a passing semi to help me up.” He started the truck, and this time Archer didn’t stop him.

  “One way or another, it’s going to end. When it does, don’t forget I tried to make it easier on you.”

  “Do me a favor, Archer. Don’t do me any favors.”

  As he pulled away he heard Archer say, “You asked for it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She’d run smack into Ariel Wyatt.

  Lou’s immediate thought was to beg the woman for help.

  Then her brain caught up with her gut instinct, and she realized Nigel would never have allowed a regular patron into the library with Lou locked up. Ariel must have known Lou was there.

  The complete lack of surprise in Ariel’s expression confirmed Lou’s fears, and instead of asking for help, Lou turned to flee. This time, though, she found herself caged between Nigel and Ariel.

  Lou backed herself against the nearest bookshelf, hoping to keep from getting bashed in the head again. She was still holding her insulin pen in one hand, but the element of surprise was shot. And she definitely couldn’t get by both of them.

  “What do you want?”

  “Nigel, she’s terrified, what did you do?” Ariel looked past Lou as if she wasn’t there to address her nutjob librarian captor.

  “You told me to hold her here.”

  “I meant keep her occupied, not take her prisoner.”

  “You said I shouldn’t let her leave.”

  The woman sighed and rolled her eyes at him. “Couldn’t you have given her a book to read? Honestly, Nigel, I didn’t think it was possible for you to be more of a screwup, but apparently I vastly underestimated your abilities in the idiot department.”

  Nigel looked abashed, but Lou was having a hard time feeling sorry for him. She was still wobbly on her feet, nowhere near recovered from her high blood sugar episode, and likely wouldn’t be feeling fully herself for several hours.

  “Who are you people?” Lou snapped, keeping her back up against the bookshelf should any more surprise guests decide to arrive and make the odds even worse for her.

  “That will all be clear very shortly.” Ariel’s gaze wandered towards the front doors, where as if on cue, someone rapped lightly on the glass. As Lou had predicted, Nigel had locked them inside and the rest of the world out.

  Nigel gave Lou and Ariel a once-over, then deciding it was safe to leave his prisoner with only one guardian, he went to the door and unlocked it.

  Archer Wyatt stepped in, and in that moment Lou was sure she must have slipped into a diabetic coma and was dreaming the whole thing, because there was just no way this scenario could have been real. Her palms began to feel itchy as her adrenaline hitched higher. The last time she’d felt this was in Cooper’s embrace, and she still didn’t quite understand what had happened to her then.

  “Archer?”

  “Miss Whittaker.” He nodded to her, as though it was perfectly normal to find her locked in a library, clutching a tiny insulin needle, quivering with fear and adrenaline because she had been kidnapped.

  “What the hell?” she demanded. Maybe because he knew her he’d be more apt to tell her something instead of leaving her in the dark both literally and figuratively.

  “I bet you want some answers. I’m sorry, but we’re a bit short on time, so I’ll make it as simple as I can, then we’ll work on filling in the blanks when it better suits, okay?”

  Lou wanted to tell him if he didn’t give her something, she was going to jab him with the needle anyway, but she was handily outnumbered and didn’t feel like testing their patience.

  “I see you’ve met my mother.” He jutted his chin towards the blonde woman.

  “We’ve met before,” Lou said tartly. “Though last time I wasn’t in captivity.”

  “This is a mess, I’m afraid. Archer, your cousin has made a tremendous catastrophe of this whole situation. He locked her up in the reading room, and I’m fairly certain there’s blood in the poor girl’s hair. Eloise, can you show me the back of your head?”

  “Why, so you can hit me with something again? Thanks, but no thanks.” She pressed her back harder against the shelf, feeling it wobble under her weight.

  Ariel ignored her accusations and held out a delicate, tanned hand festooned with a variety of enormous diamonds. Lou recoiled from her. “I have to apologize for what’s happened to you here. You see, I asked Nigel that if you should return, Archer and I needed to speak with you. He took my insistence you not leave a little too literally, as you can tell, and now I’m worried you’ll be…reluctant to listen to what we need to tell you.” When it became clear Lou wasn’t going to shake her hand, Ariel extended it outward in the direction of a nearby table. “Please, let’s sit.”

  “No.”

  “Eloise, I must insist.”

  “You don’t get to terrorize me then invite me to have a nice friendly chat. I don’t care what your original intentions were. I’m not listening to you.”

  “I’m afraid you have to, as the very fate of this town depends on you hearing me out.”

  Dramatic much?

  But she had Lou’s attention.

  “Are you being serious right now, or is everyone in this stupid town prone to intense bouts of hyperbole?”

  Archer snorted. “Well, that’s not untrue, but you really oughta listen to what she has to say.” He turned his attention towards Nigel. “Can you put a sign up on the door or something?”

  Nigel was playing with the cuff on his jacket, trying to blend into the background. Lou almost felt sympathetic to him because of how they were treating him, but then the knot at the back of her skull whined in protest and any empathy she had for Nigel vanished. He left to find a sign, and Lou had to wonder what was so pressing that Archer wanted it done now. Was someone looking for her? He had said they didn’t have much time. But why?

  “Sit down, Lou,” Archer directed, coming in close to invade her personal bubble. He smelled nice, like lemon and sunshine, reminding her of being outside—a place she wondered if she’d be allowed to see again.

  “I want to go home,” she whispered.

  Archer placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch so soft and gentle she would’ve thought she was imagining it if she couldn’t see his hand. A familiar tingling sensation crept over her.

  “Let’s just have a chat, then when it’s all over, I’ll drive you home myself, okay?”

  She didn’t want to be anywhere near Archer or his crazy family. But if sitting down and having a chat with him and his mother was her best shot of getting out, she’d take it. She jerked her shoulder free of his touch and backed away from him, sliding herself along the shelf until she was near the table.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me if I think your word is about as good as runny oatmeal at a dinner party.”

  Archer looked hurt, but his expression changed after a moment, and the cool exterior returned. “You’ll learn to trust me.”

  Why did that sound like a threat?

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “I don’t have to. You and I are going to be old friends before you know it, and today is going to seem like nothing more than a bad dream.” He kept his gaze locked on her as he spoke, and with each new word she felt a calmness begin to creep over her. She fought against it, trying to keep her guard up, but by the time he’d said bad dream, her shoulders had lost their tension, and she lowered the insulin needle to her side.

  “Why don’t you give me that?” He held his hand out for the needle, and for some stupid reason, she gave it to him.

  “Let’s go sit down,” he added.

  Proving she wasn’t a complete fool, she kept her back against the shelf, but she still followed him towards the table where his mother was already sitting. He offered her a chair near the wall where it was nearly im
possible for anyone to sneak up behind her, and when he realized she had no intention of letting him hold the chair out for her, he raised his hands up in false submission and let her seat herself.

  Lou’s palms were still itching, giving her the strangest sensation, as if dozens of fire ants were crawling about just below the surface of her skin. She rubbed her damp palms on her jeans, doing her best to chase the sensation away, but when she crossed her arms, it was back full force.

  “We tried to make this easy on you.” Archer took the seat next to Ariel. “Everyone warned you. It wasn’t like you weren’t told.”

  “You’re talking about Cooper,” Lou said, when the realization dawned on her. “This is all about him.”

  Ariel shook her head and placed a hand gently on Archer’s arm. “Let me explain it to her. Maybe she’ll be better able to accept it from an adult.”

  Fat chance.

  “You can’t be serious. This can’t all be about some stupid vendetta you idiots have against the Reynolds family.” Lou wanted to get up and storm out but reminded herself that righteous indignation wasn’t a luxury she was being granted right then.

  “It’s much more complicated than a mere dislike.”

  “I didn’t say dislike. I said vendetta.”

  “You have a flair for the dramatic. You must get that from your mother,” Ariel observed.

  Lou fell silent. Her mother was hardly a flight-of-fancy drama queen. If anything, it had been her father who was apt to exaggerate things—usually for the sake of humor. But for Ariel to make a statement one way or the other implied an existing knowledge of Lou’s father.

  Taking Lou’s new quiet repose as an invitation, Ariel continued. “We weren’t trying to be malicious by warning you off the Reynolds boy, Eloise. I assure you, we aren’t as coldhearted as you’d like to think we are.”

  “Sure.” Honestly, she didn’t know where this was going, so she bit her tongue against the urge to say anything more.

  “You and Cooper are chemistry lab partners, if what Archer tells me is accurate.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll put it to you in familiar terms. You are hydrogen and he is the match.”

  “If you’re trying to tell me Cooper and I have combustible chemistry, I should probably tell you to mind your own business.”

  Ariel leaned across the table, extending her hand towards Lou’s. When the older woman touched Lou the itching sensation became a white-hot burn, and a spark visibly cracked between them. She jerked her hand back at the same time Ariel did, shocked by what had happened.

  Faint vapors of smoke curled off her skin, but where she expected to feel pain, there was only a cool release. For a moment the itching was quieted. Ariel didn’t look relieved. She stared at the place on Lou’s hand she’d touched as if it were a viper rather than the limb of a human girl.

  Archer cast a glance between them, his eyes wide with surprise. “Is that what—?”

  With a flick of her wrist, Ariel silenced him. He didn’t ask her any more questions, but he continued to stare at Lou with a cross between fear and wonder. She could almost see her own stunned expression reflected in his eyes.

  What the hell was happening to her?

  In California she’d just been a normal girl. Then her dad died and everything went to hell. Now she was seeing his ghost, falling for a coyote boy, and was related to the witch who’d cursed him.

  “How are you involved?” Lou’s hands trembled in her lap.

  “Do you know about Cooper’s brother, Jeremy?”

  Lou hesitated but didn’t think answering would give too much away if they didn’t know about the curse. “Yes.”

  “And what did Cooper tell you about that?”

  Raising her eyebrow, Lou gave the older woman a look that asked, Do I look stupid to you?

  “All right.” Ariel lifted her hands in mock surrender. “How about I assume you know what we both know you know? How about we stop playing games and just get to the point?”

  “And what is it you think I know?”

  “I think you know Jeremy Reynolds is wandering around the Poisonfoot woods on four legs instead of two. I think you know Cooper Reynolds will be joining him next summer. And I think you know your family is responsible for that.”

  So Ariel wasn’t playing games. Lou didn’t know how to respond to the information. Obviously Ariel hadn’t told her anything she didn’t know, but she was having it all confirmed for her by an adult. An adult who seemed reasonably sane. Somehow knowing there were people aside from her and Cooper who believed in the curse made it feel more real.

  And once it stopped being a thing she shared only with him, she let the weight of it become something she could feel rather than something she was merely imagining. It was real. She wasn’t crazy or letting herself be lured in by the charming lies of the town’s bad boy.

  By Ariel laying her cards out on the table, Lou was allowed to fully, honestly believe everything Cooper had told her. She’d wanted to, and to an extent she already had believed, but this was the final shove she needed to really accept it.

  “Okay,” was all Lou said, not adding anything to the conversation but confirming for Ariel that she was in the loop.

  “Did your father ever talk to you about his life here before he died?”

  Lou didn’t think Ariel was talking about fun childhood memories, so she shook her head.

  “So everything you know has come from Cooper?”

  “If you’re going to imply he’s lying or something, save your breath.” She also didn’t want to tell Ariel about information she’d gleaned from her father after he died.

  Ariel looked sideways at Archer while Nigel paced the aisle, not truly a part of the conversation but observing it from the fringes. During the silent interval there was a quiet tap on the glass.

  “Hello?” came a voice through the door. “Is anyone in there?”

  Cooper.

  Lou wanted to shout for him, but when she looked across the table, Ariel was holding a finger to her lips in a shush gesture, and her cool glare was enough to keep Lou silent. She didn’t think the Wyatts were going to hurt her—not any worse than Nigel already had—but something told her it would be in her best interest not to call for help.

  They waited in a quiet so perfect she could hear the gravel crunch under Cooper’s truck tires when he pulled out of the parking lot behind the library.

  She let out a shaky breath.

  “Archer, can you continue explaining things to Eloise, please? I need to call your brother and tell him what’s going on.” She squeezed his shoulder and retrieved her cellphone, brushing past Nigel to where she could have some privacy.

  Lou glowered at Archer, letting him know she wasn’t going to be anywhere near as polite to him as she’d been with his mother.

  “I’m not the bad guy here,” he reminded her.

  “How do I know that?”

  “You can’t stop the curse, Lou.”

  “I can if I’m responsible for it.”

  “No. You can’t stop it. What do you know about magic?”

  The tingling in her fingers became more pronounced when he asked the question. “Nothing,” she admitted.

  “Magic isn’t just hocus-pocus and sleight of hand. It’s a manipulation of energy.” He placed his hands on the table with his palms facing up. As he spoke, a spark of blue light formed in one hand, flicking up like a small, cerulean flame.

  Lou’s pulse quickened as she watched, totally stunned by what she was seeing. Ghosts and coyotes were one thing, but Archer was creating something from nothing. No matter what else she’d seen, it was still really cool. She was having a hard time accepting that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

  The flame got a little bigger, and with the slightest wiggle of his fingers it changed color from blue, to green, to orange.

  “All around us there’s energy. It has a natural flow—the molecules like to function in a certain way. When we use magic,
we disrupt the natural flow. The longer we disrupt the flow, the more volatile and…intense the magic becomes.”

  “Intense how?” She was still staring at the flame in his palm.

  “It takes on a mind of its own, in a manner of speaking.” The flame expanded, forming into a ball and hissing angrily. Lou had a feeling Archer was manipulating it to make a point, but it was effective.

  “Not that this isn’t, admittedly, the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but what does this have to do with me? And Cooper?”

  “A curse is applied magic,” Archer explained. “You basically tag someone as being the focal point for your magic. The longer that curse exists, and the more people you apply it to…well, it can get a bit wild.”

  Lou nodded, but she didn’t really grasp the point he was trying to make.

  “Normally a curse dies when the main purpose of the curse is fulfilled. But if that doesn’t happen, it will usually die along with the person who cast it.” Archer’s little ball of flame was now the size of a grapefruit, crackling like a bowl of Rice Krispies.

  So a normal curse would have died with Morena. But almost two hundred years had passed, and it was still going as strong as ever.

  “What if the curse doesn’t die with the person who cast it?”

  Archer smiled and nodded, as if she’d finally understood.

  “Sometimes a curse is so powerful it embeds itself into the very core of a person’s being. Or a family.”

  “Okay.”

  “A curse like the one cast on the Reynolds family has burned so long and so deep, it stops just being about the people. That curse is engrained in every part of this town.”

  “What does that have to do with you and your mother?”

  “Some people have a natural ability to make order of chaos. Like a grounded plug or a lightning rod.” He lifted his empty hand and held it above the ball of flame, touching the orange sphere with one finger. It vanished instantly, leaving only a puff of smoke behind.

  “So…”

  “You’re fire. He’s dynamite. And I…” he pointed to himself, “…I’m the glass wall that keeps it all from blowing up in our faces.”