Crossroads Burning

by Nash, Layla

  “Bad dreams?” Mason added some cheese to the mess of eggs in the skillet, then filled the toaster with slices of bread. “Too bad you don’t have anyone to wake you up from those. Must be tough.”

  I patted his shoulder as I walked by and got another bag of fruit to load up the drawers in the fridge. “Yeah, it’s too bad your boss is such a deep sleeper.”

  Mason started laughing, a deep full-body guffaw that rolled through him and filled the house all the way to the attic, and had to lean against the counter to keep from toppling over. “I knew I liked you, Luckett, from the second we walked into that bar.”

  It made me smile, at least, and it was good to hear someone have that much joy, especially after the last few rather grim days. Even Lucia looked less severe as she leaned her hip against the kitchen counter and watched him, and I wondered if things would go completely Bobbsey Twins and she’d fall in love with Mason while Olivia claimed Nelson. “You want stew for dinner, Looch?”

  “That’ll work,” she said. She hauled the massive stockpot out from the back of the cupboard near her and set it on the stove, though she gave Mason quite a bit of space. He shuffled aside, still stirring up the eggs, but didn’t comment. Something had happened at the store—something had passed between them, though I couldn’t put my finger on what.

  I pulled the stew meat and veggies out of the fridge and passed them over, raising my eyebrows in Mason’s direction when I looked at her, and was rewarded with a hint of color in her cheeks. I cleared my throat and swatted Mason with the dish towel. “You can hike your happy ass out to the porch and help your boss uncover Ronan’s wicked past. We’ll sort out the eggs and bring them out there.”

  He gave me a sideways look over his shoulder, then shook the eggy spatula at me. “You’re gettin’ too big for your britches, Luckett. I’ll go drop you in a mud puddle if you don’t turn down the sass.”

  “Fine,” I said. I folded my arms over my chest. “I want to talk to my sister and you’re making it awkward. Please be a gentleman and excuse yourself.”

  “Sass,” Lucia said, a warning in her eyes, but I ignored her.

  Mason’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me, then at her, then back at me. He leaned over and tweaked the end of my nose. “Fine. But don’t burn my eggs. Two more minutes on them, throw in some more cheese, then holler so I can bring it out to the porch with the tortillas.”

  “Whatever you say,” I said, and took the spatula before he could argue more. I waited until he moseyed out and the door slammed behind him before I glanced at my sister. “Okay, what happened?”

  “None of your business,” she said, her whole face scarlet.

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from teasing her more, since I didn’t know how much time we would have alone. “I’ll get back to that later, even though I didn’t think Mason was your type. Still, I had a dream last night.”

  “I don’t need to know whatever dirty—”

  “Not that,” I said, my own cheeks burning. I sprinkled cheese over the eggs and turned down the heat, glancing over as Lucia put the stew meat in the pot to brown. The sizzle and snap of the meat in the oil made a pleasant sound, homey and comfortable and warm, as we stood next to each other at the stove. We hadn’t cooked together in what felt like years. “It was another one at the cave. One of the ghosts was trying to warn me about something. That there’s danger but she couldn’t tell me who or what caused it.”

  “Great. Sounds super helpful.” Lucia started chopping an onion, tossing chunks into the pot, and my eyes stung until I almost couldn’t see the eggs at all.

  I retreated with the skillet and managed to slide the mess onto a platter, dumping the hot pan in the sink, as I blinked tears away. “She had some good questions, though. I think she was trying to tell me something without actually telling me, you know? She asked me why a witch would cast a curse like the werewolf curse.”

  Lucia shook her head, reaching into the smallest cupboard in the kitchen to find some spices, and concentrated on putting the stew together. “I don’t know, Sass. It wouldn’t be my first choice if I had someone in front of me who needed cursing.”

  “Exactly.” I frowned as I folded my arms across my chest and stared at the door that led to the porch. “If I cursed you with that, you’d turn into a werewolf but one with enough presence of mind and sentience to know that I’d cursed you. Why wouldn’t you just immediately bite me?”

  She snorted. “I’d tear your fucking throat out. But does that mean I couldn’t get the curse off me again?”

  I rubbed my jaw and pulled more plates out of the dishwasher. “No, because I took the curse off Ronan. So it doesn’t seem like it’s tied to the original witch who cast it, otherwise he’d have been free the moment the witch died, right?”

  Lucia made a thoughtful noise, leaning once more against the counter to study me. “Interesting. Maybe he killed the witch who cast it, and has been waiting to be transformed back.”

  “But—” I gnawed on my thumbnail, staring at nothing. “If I could get the curse off him, then that means he’s the original one. He’s the one who’s been biting all the others.”

  “I think that’s how it works, at least from what’s in the book.”

  I didn’t want to say it out loud, I really didn’t. I spoke around my thumb, hoping that maybe she wouldn’t hear me. “Then he knew exactly what he was doing, biting the others. And it’s his book, so he knew what the curse would do. He knew he would create more werewolves without any of his control if he bit people, and he still did it.”

  Lucia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maybe he went crazy. That’s a long damn time to be a wolf alone, Sass. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing when he attacked the house.”

  “Maybe.” It was an uncomfortable set of thoughts sitting in the back of my head. Except Ronan kept the dire wolf from killing me when I appeared in the yard, and he only started attacking us when we restrained him and tied him up. I shook myself out of it and tossed some of the tortillas onto a plate, along with as many spoons as I could find, and carried both toward the porch. “Guess that’s something else to ask him.”

  “Sass,” she said, and I half-turned. Lucia cleared her throat, her cheeks getting pinker. “Thank you for not asking. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I shrugged, not wanting to embarrass her more, but tossed back, “No problem. But I’ve seen him shift, and he’s got a fine ass. In case you were wondering.”

  Lucia made a strangled sound but whatever curses she flung my way were lost as I let the door shut behind me.

  Chapter 52

  Lucia stayed in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with a great deal of vigor, as I braved the porch and the circle of chairs with everyone else. Mason quickly shoved aside the stale crackers and other dishes so I could put down the platter of scrambled ham and eggs, and everyone else pretty much ooh’d and aah’d in anticipation and thanks.

  Nelson sat forward and put a tortilla on a plate to hand to Olivia. “Looks great, Luckett. Thanks for cooking.”

  His brother looked at him in disbelief. “Dude, I did all the work.”

  “We all know you can’t cook for shit.” Hazel handed me a plate as I eased onto the last vacant piece of furniture—an enormous but upside-down ceramic planter. It was not comfortable at all. Hazel put a couple of scoops of eggs onto my tortilla and did the same for herself as Lincoln helped Ronan.

  The druid sniffed dubiously at the tortilla, though he seemed to recognize scrambled eggs, and eventually tasted the food. He didn’t say a word about it, of course, even after helping himself to seconds and thirds. No one spoke as we inhaled the breakfast, though everyone paused when Lucia appeared with a full plate of toast and the half jar of peach preserves we still had in the fridge.

  She didn’t join us, instead returning to the kitchen, and Mason’s eyes followed her until she disappeared behind the door. I wondered what had passed between them at the store. It unnerved me to see my normally unfla
ppable older sister so out of her element. I didn’t call Mason out but made a mental note to have a serious talk with him later, probably after I had a serious talk with his brother. I’d never had to be the guardian of my sisters’ hearts, but I’d spare them what pain I could. I would have flopped back from sheer exhaustion in my chair if I’d had one, so instead I had to balance precariously on the overturned planter.

  The rain pattered down musically on the porch roof, showing no signs of abating, and I wondered if someone sent the storm. Normally it would have been snow, although the temperature hadn’t held steady below freezing for long enough, which was strange for that time of year. It made me uneasy, so I was the only one staring out at the yard when Luke and Nona appeared.

  They didn’t wander up, like I’d imagined the night before, but the air shimmered and then they both stepped out of nothingness. I blinked; I’d never seen Luke do that before, nor had I imagined he and his great-grandmother could transport like we could. Yet another thing to ask him about when I got the chance. I rose to my feet and waved, then ducked inside to haul another chair onto the porch since Nona was still a coyote, and grudgingly returned to my planter as Luke moseyed up to the porch, unmindful of the rain. “Mornin’, Luke. Thanks for coming.”

  Luke nodded and said “Good morning,” his impassive gaze sweeping over the group and pausing on Ronan. Nona hesitated on the steps next to him, her golden eyes narrow, and a low growl escaped her.

  Luke frowned as he glanced down at her and the coyote looked up, and something passed between them because they both eased around the circle to where I’d placed the extra chair, opposite Ronan. The druid’s mouth twisted as the Native American and coyote joined us and Liv offered Luke a tortilla of scrambled eggs. I could just imagine what antiquated ideas the druid had about non-Europeans, and shot Lincoln a warning look just in case Ronan started to get out of hand.

  I inclined my head deeply to Nona and offered her my own plate. She leaned against my side, wet and warm, and rested her head on my leg. I leaned down to murmur, “Thank you for coming, Nona. We need your help. Something is wrong here and we can’t figure it out. I thought you would be able to see the truth of things for us. Any insight would be wonderful. And your frybread recipe. That would be helpful, too.”

  She whuffed a coyote laugh and butted me with her nose, then returned to her silent survey of the group. Hazel held her coffee mug close to her face and blinked at Ronan. “Luckett mentioned you’re a... distant relative, Ronan. What brought you out here originally? Rattler’s Run is kind of an out-of-the-way place.”

  “We had to leave Massachusetts rather unexpectedly and in great haste,” he said grudgingly. “My sister Temperance caused some trouble and I could not clean up after her yet again, so we left.”

  My blood pressure cranked up a few notches, since that wasn’t really the truth. But rather than call him out, I took a huge bite of tortilla and focused on chewing. Let him think we’d forgotten. Let him think he could fool all of us. It was a good thing Lucia stayed inside, though, since I doubted she’d have the patience to let him keep running his mouth. Sometimes you had to let someone draw out enough rope to hang themselves, and no doubt Ronan thought himself clever enough—or us stupid enough—to say what he wanted and not face any consequences. So we’d let him run his mouth until he offered up some useful information.

  Hazel made a thoughtful noise, casual as she spread preserves across her toast. “Your sister? Where did she end up, then?”

  His upper lip curled. “She is bound here, out on the plains. She was an evil woman. She refused to listen and obey, and believed herself my equal in power and standing. She may have been bandrui and knowledgeable about hedge-witchery and the lower women’s arts, but she could not compare to a druid’s power. She attempted to take my power, to punish me, and so I cursed her.”

  My heart thundered loud and uneven in my ears as I stared at him. I’d never imagined... He’d cursed Temperance Luckett? Ronan was responsible for why we were bound to Rattler’s Run? I couldn’t breathe normally, and only the gentle pressure of Nona’s paw on my foot kept me from leaping over the table to strangle him. It was a very good thing Lucia remained inside.

  “Your sister was bandrui,” Lincoln said thoughtfully. “I’m surprised she would have caused trouble in Massachusetts, then. Most of the bandrui I’ve met are more careful than that by far.”

  Ronan sneered and handed his dirty plate to Olivia without even looking at her. Her eyes narrowed and only Nelson touching her hand kept her from flipping the fuck out. He hadn’t seemed so terrible the night before while he was still muddled from the transformation. “She let her emotions override her judgment. She insisted on saving weak humans instead of protecting our family, and made us targets instead. Rather than leave her to hang for her crimes—as I should have—I chose to rescue her and bring her out here. She resented it and tried to curse me, so I bound her here, along with all of her line.”

  Luke’s dark eyebrows rose. “So you are the one. The dark hand that oppressed this town from the beginning.”

  Ronan didn’t even look at him. I held my breath and ground my teeth against the hundreds of curses I wanted to throw at the druid. The bastard. The awful bastard. He’d cursed his own sister to a life tied to this town, in a time when it would not have been easy for a woman to be in a place so isolated on the frontier. And he cursed the rest of us to an eternity caught here as well, at the mercy of a bunch of mundanes. All because his sister dared care about the innocent humans who would have hanged to death in Salem, and challenged him over his power. She dared stand up for herself and probably other women, and challenged his own perceptions of himself as superior. Unbelievable. Unbearable.

  Luke’s fingers slipped gently around my wrist, squeezing, and some of the rage that crowded my lungs dissipated. For about a split second.

  Ronan’s gaze snapped to where Luke touched me, and he sat forward, rigid with fury. “Unhand her, you savage.”

  Everyone went still.

  Luke didn’t budge, and neither did I. My heart stuttered and everything slowed down until all I could hear was a whooshing in my ears. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Ronan wouldn’t—

  A flush rose from Ronan’s throat and worked its way up to his hairline. “I said, unhand her. I’ll not have a brute and an unwashed savage lay a finger on one of my line, even if she’s an immodest trollop.”

  What the fuck was a trollop?

  I lurched to my feet and almost kicked the coffee table out of the way, some of the plates jostling and the toast spilling to the deck. “Take it back, you son of a bitch.”

  “You have gentleman callers spend the night and you think you’re anything but a whore?” His whole face twisted with disgust. “You dishonor our name and the land we took from his ilk,” and he gestured dismissively in Luke’s direction. “You’re even worse than that sister of mine. She dared let one of them touch her and look at the result. Weak, sniveling creatures.”

  Luke, who hardly blinked though his anger grew cold next to me, took a very deep, very calm breath. He still held my wrist, and prevented me from launching at my erstwhile many-time-great-grand-uncle. Nona remained next to me, like an electrified fence vibrating with danger.

  “Apologize to my friend,” I snapped, whipping my wrist up to indicate Luke. “You’re a guest in my house, Ronan, and you will not insult my friends.”

  “You cannot be acquainted with savages,” he said. “They’re uneducated, unwashed beasts. They have trespass with animals.” Ronan flicked his fingers at Nona and I sucked in a breath. “They should only serve, if they’re lucky. How dare you call those beasts friends? How dare you let them into your home?”

  Lincoln gripped Ronan’s shoulder, and once more the green glow passed between them. Ronan made a grinding noise in his throat but didn’t carry on his tirade. Lincoln took a deep breath and met my gaze. “Well. That’s probably enough of that.”

  “Yes,” Luke said. He didn’t take
his attention off Ronan as the druid seethed and glared. “We’re not surprised he is so full of hate. To do what he did... It would take a great deal of darkness in the spirit. Hate and wretchedness. I had long wondered how a woman could be guilty of the things that tied the Lucketts to Rattler’s Run and contorted the magic of the Crossroads, but this answers many of our questions. It was never her crime that tied them here, but his.”

  “I warned the savages away from the ley lines,” Ronan snapped. “They claimed the land but did not know how to use it. Stay away from my land.”

  “It’s not yours,” I said. Nona started growling next to me, edging her way between Luke and me so she could see Ronan. “It was never yours. You stole it, just like you stole from your sister and all of her descendants. You trapped us here.”

  “It’s less than you deserved,” he said. His fists clenched and if it weren’t for Lincoln’s hold on his shoulder, I had no doubt that Ronan would have charged over and tried to smack me around. “Useless women. Stealing power, claiming to be stronger than me, refusing to do as you are told. I should have done away with her or given her to another so he could deal with her intransigence, but instead I allowed her to live.”

  Olivia stood, her light eyes glinting with fury, and I felt a tremble of power collect around her. “You’d better watch your mouth, bucko. You’re here on our good graces. We turned you back to human. We could just as easily turn your ass back into a werewolf. Or a snake, since that would suit you better.”

  “You did nothing of the sort,” he said. “You merely removed a small irritant of a curse, nothing more. It is only a matter of time until I have a pack assembled and then we will take care of all the problems you have created. No wonder you’ve driven away every male of quality and you’re left with savages and... Irish.”

  Nelson and Mason blinked, still seated, but Hazel sucked in a breath. She got to her feet and edged closer to Olivia. I vibrated with rage even as my blood ran cold. I had no idea if anyone actually was Irish, or why that might have been such a bad thing, but I tried to focus on the secrets Ronan revealed instead of the hate he spewed. So there was a second curse on him, which meant the first was still on him.