Witch Bound (Devilborn Book 3)

by Jen Rasmussen

  “A notebook, you say?” Granny said. “I’ll just rummage through your desk on my own. Pretend I’m not here.”

  I didn’t respond, didn’t take my eyes off Cooper, who still hadn’t spoken. “When did you wake up? Get back in bed!”

  “Don’t pretend quite that thoroughly,” said Granny.

  “You should be resting,” I said, with an impatient glance at her. “Does Phineas know you’re awake? It’s the green spiral notebook, Granny.”

  “Phineas is here?” Cooper’s voice brought to mind dry, cracked earth.

  I took his hand and tried to steer him toward the couch, at least. “Yes, he’s been taking care of you.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Three days. Phineas teleported us all out of Wick’s place.”

  “He can do that?”

  “It seems so. But only in extreme circumstances, because apparently planar travel sometimes kills non-phantasms.”

  “I’ll be going, then.” Granny waved the notebook at me. “Welcome back, Cooper. Wendy and Caleb will be delighted to hear that you’re awake.”

  I walked her to the door. “Thank you, Granny. Pardon my manners.”

  “Nothing to pardon.” She winked at me. “Have a pleasant afternoon.”

  I closed the door behind her and turned back to Cooper, pulling him down beside me on the couch. Again he hugged me as if he never wanted to let me go, and yet did so all too soon.

  Is he afraid I’m going to break? Or is this guilt?

  “First thing’s first,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

  His expression betrayed no emotion. “Well enough for this. Go ahead and say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That we should have played it safe and gotten out of there under the radar, like you wanted. That if it wasn’t for me, Serena would be alive, and the curse would be broken by now. That I killed the only chance you had.” He didn’t sound apologetic. If anything, the words came out like a dare.

  Guilt, then.

  Cooper often translated vulnerability into hostility. But I was in no mood for casting blame. “It’s not your fault. We both agreed. I told you to go.”

  “Only after I talked you into it.”

  “I know, but I understood. Understand.” I recalled Arabella’s words. “You thought you could have both. Me healthy again, and the seeds.”

  “I gambled on getting both. With your life as the stakes. And Serena’s.”

  Yes, you did.

  “You couldn’t know what would happen.”

  His tone shifted from argumentative to downright belligerent. “Stop making excuses for me.”

  This was not the tearful, joyful reunion I’d envisioned. “Do you want me to be angry, is that it? Do you have some need to be punished?”

  “I think you are angry. And I’d rather you just say it.”

  I opened my mouth to deny it, but found I couldn’t. “Fine. I didn’t want you to bet with my life. You knew I didn’t. But you did it anyway, and you lost.”

  Pain flickered in his eyes, before he managed to shutter them again. “Yes. I did. I lost it all. Serena’s dead. You’re still cursed. And I didn’t even find the seeds.”

  My stomach lurched. “What are you saying? That if you had found the seeds, it would have been worth it?”

  “Of course not. I’m just spelling out how very spectacular a failure this was.”

  But I wasn’t willing to let that go. He’d asked for this conversation, and now he was going to get it. “Serena was a seer. What if she’d told you, when the three of us were down in that basement, that you could have the seeds, but that the cost would be her life? Would you still have left us down there?”

  “You’re not really asking about Serena’s life. You’re asking whether I would trade your life for the seeds. That’s what you want to know, right?”

  “I think it’s a fair question, at this point.”

  Cooper looked away from me, out the window at the mountains. “No,” he said. “I wouldn’t.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  “But it doesn’t matter.” He met my eyes again. “I’m probably never going to be faced with a simple, clean choice like that. That’s not how it works. It will always be a matter of assessing and comparing risks. That’s what gambling is. Would I risk your life for the seeds? Obviously I would. I do it every day. And so do you.”

  He was right about that much. The question was, could I live with that?

  And the answer was, it was too late to be asking that question. I didn’t start out wanting to get involved with Cooper, Bristol, the hotel, the seeds. I had resisted these attachments, this cause.

  But then I’d made my choices, one by one.

  I looked into Cooper’s eyes, and found I could not regret them.

  Too often when I was pulled into that aqua gaze, I became the girl I’d once been, bullied, scorned, then invariably dismissed. That girl could not believe her luck, that such a beautiful boy would want her.

  That girl needed to get over it. This wasn’t a prom we were going to. And Cooper had brought me more than a great smile and even better sex.

  He’d brought me something important to do.

  I still hadn’t said anything. The longer I stared, the more cracks appeared in the wall of ice Cooper was hiding behind, and the more glimpses I got of what was beneath: naked fear.

  Finally, I nodded. “Okay.”

  It wasn’t the most romantic word I could have chosen, but it did the job. Instantly, that brittle wall shattered. Cooper grabbed me, kissed my lips, my cheeks, buried his face in my neck. And hand to my heart, I could have sworn I felt tears against my skin.

  “Nothing would have been worth it,” he said, his voice thick. “I’d give anything to take it back. If I could trade places with you, I would.”

  “Don’t worry.” I stroked his bare chest and back, reveling in his taut muscles, suddenly wanting more of him. Yes, we had important things to do, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t also have the great sex, did it? “We’ll figure it out.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him hard. “Just not right this second.”

  For the first time since the curse had left me so fragile, there was a fierce, unyielding hunger in his kiss. It seemed Cooper was no longer quite so afraid I would break.

  Unfortunately for us, I’d given Phineas a key to my suite, while he was tending to Cooper. He and Lydia came in without knocking just moments later, Wulf bounding behind them.

  “Shit!” Lydia turned away while I yanked my shirt down, but the bloodhound wasn’t as polite. He jumped up onto the couch between us and started licking Cooper’s face.

  “Sorry.” Phineas blushed to the tips of his ears, and didn’t quite meet my eyes. “We ran into Granny at The Witch’s Brew and she told us he was awake, but I expected that to mean he could open his eyes, maybe mumble a few words. I didn’t think he’d be… energetic… yet.”

  “If it was anyone else barging in here, I’d punch them,” Cooper said, but he was clearly trying not to smile.

  “If it was anyone else manhandling my cousin, I’d punch them right back,” said Phineas, who didn’t even bother to try.

  “I guess we can make an exception in this case.” Cooper extricated himself from Wulf and stood to give Phineas a hug. “I understand I owe you my life. Thank you.”

  “You want to tell us what happened?” Phineas asked.

  Cooper sat back down with the air of someone resigned to a trial. Perhaps in both senses of the word. As if to provide support, Wulf sat at his feet and stared dolefully at the rest of us from his big brown eyes.

  “How about I make some coffee?” Lydia headed for the kitchenette, while Phineas sat down.

  “There’s actually not much to tell,” Cooper said. “I found a hallway right off Wick’s private entrance that ended up leading upstairs to his office. I started to search it, spotted a sensor too late, and set off a silent alarm when I opened a
closet door.”

  “Did you find anything?” I asked.

  “No, but I wasn’t in the room long before a couple of security guys showed up. I still think the seeds are up there somewhere.” He gave us a helpless shrug. “It was like I could sense them or something. I just have this unshakable feeling.”

  Yes, they call that feeling wishful thinking.

  “Anyway, I knocked out the guards, but I knew more were coming,” Cooper went on. “I ran out to the other side of the property, to draw them away from you guys, and led them around for a while. When I figured you’d had enough time to get out, I tried to leave through the gate back by the zoo. That was when I found out the gates lock from the inside.”

  “And remembered you had the keys,” I supplied.

  Cooper nodded. “So I got back to you as fast as I could.” He became very focused on scratching Wulf’s ear. “You know the rest.”

  “You know, that locking from the inside thing is something you guys should have checked on your way in,” Lydia called from the kitchen.

  “Honestly, who locks themselves in so tightly they need keys to get out?” I asked. “What if they had a fire?”

  “It didn’t occur to us then because it didn’t matter,” said Cooper. “We had the keys. We weren’t planning on separating. This was my screw-up. Nobody else’s.”

  “Well,” Phineas said. “What’s done is done. Now that you’re awake—”

  “I’ll be breaking the curse.” Cooper threaded his fingers through mine, and his eyes were so intense it took my breath away. “I swear to you, I will find a way.”

  “Yeah, yeah, take a number.” Lydia broke us up by handing us each a hot mug of coffee. “She’s been getting that vow a lot.”

  Cooper ducked his head, clearly embarrassed to have done that in front of witnesses.

  But I smiled at him. “About that. I have an idea.” I told them about the attack I’d had at Wendy’s, and what I thought it meant.

  Lydia paced as she ran through the possibilities. “We can certainly try to summon Serena’s spirit first, before we go grave digging. If she’s a ghost, she’ll be anchored to the Wick place, but given her weird connection to her house, I bet I could manage to call her there for a few seconds, at least. Maybe long enough to help her move on. Actually…” She ran a hand through her long hair, considering. “I wonder if it’s possible she’s already haunting Number Twelve.”

  Phineas frowned at her as she stopped to sit on the arm of his chair. “What are you talking about? I thought ghosts could only haunt the places they died.”

  “Right, normally,” Lydia said. “But this is a little different, isn’t it?” She looked at me. “You said she called the house her familiar.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, we don’t really understand the power of that relationship, or what it entails. It could be that her ties to Number Twelve are unbreakable. Almost like Letitia. She didn’t die at Greyhill, but a part of her is still haunting it.”

  “Because she tore that part off and left it there before she died,” Phineas said with a poorly concealed laugh.

  “Okay, so it’s not a perfect analogy.” Lydia swatted his shoulder. “I don’t know, it was just a thought. I could be way off base.”

  “I hope you are,” I said. “If she is haunting the house, then she’s already home, and I’m out of luck.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Lydia. “Who knows what the rules are? Evoking her into the front hall might still work. Even helping her move on from there might do it. I mean, that’s the ultimate homecoming, right? Sending her back to God and all that?”

  “And if her spirit has already moved on?” Phineas asked.

  “Then I can try a few things, but she’s probably beyond my reach, and you’ll have to go to Plan B.”

  “That’s a lot of variables,” said Cooper. “I say Lydia and I go to Boston—“

  “And Phineas,” Phineas interjected.

  “And Phineas. We’ll check things out first. See if Serena’s spirit is there, or if Lydia thinks she can connect to it wherever it is.” He squeezed my hand. “If we think we can do it with just her spirit, we’ll call you to join us. If we don’t, we’ll come back and I’ll figure out a way to get her remains.”

  “That’s silly,” I said. “Suppose you manage to summon her spirit there, and I’m not there? Then I won’t have brought her home.”

  “I wouldn’t finish the ritual,” Lydia said. “As soon as I felt her spirit, I would stop short of actually evoking her. These incantations aren’t short, you know, there’s no risk of me doing it accidentally.”

  “Well, it’s still silly to go back and forth all that way. I’ll come with you, and if we get lucky, we can finish the whole thing then and there.”

  “No,” Phineas said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. “It’s too dangerous for you to keep leaving Bristol, and there’s no point if it turns out to be a dead end.”

  “But if it’s not a dead end—”

  “Then we will call you in, and you can come then,” Phineas said firmly. “But if it comes to nothing and we think we need Serena’s remains, then you won’t have made an extra trip that your body can’t afford.”

  “An extra trip to Number Twelve Fenwick Street, no less,” Cooper added. “You know that house isn’t going to go easy on you.”

  “And then there’s the sanctuary,” said Lydia.

  “What’s the sanctuary got to do with it?” I asked.

  “Have you considered that it might provide you some protection from the curse?”

  I shook my head. “I get attacks here all the time. The curse seems to be an exception to the no-harm rule. Probably because it was inflicted elsewhere.”

  “Probably, but that doesn’t mean it’s all or nothing,” she said. “When push comes to shove, it’s possible the curse can’t actually kill you here. Bristol might be able to protect you that far.”

  Cooper gave her an alarmed look, but Lydia didn’t apologize for her bluntness. “Just saying, worst case. The curse is getting worse, the attacks are coming more frequently. We all know where it’s trying to go. This is the best place for her unless she absolutely has to be someplace else.”

  It still seemed like an excess of caution to me. But then I remembered how pale Phineas had gotten, when he talked about the burden the combination of the curse and soulsickness had put on my heart. And I remembered how the scrap of my soul here had saved me, when I wouldn’t have had the strength to live otherwise.

  Just how dangerous is it to leave Bristol again?

  Just how close to killing me is this thing?

  I allowed that a little advanced scouting might not be such a bad thing.

  Arabella stayed with me in Bristol while the others went to Boston. She insisted it was to help me and keep an eye on my health, but I suspected it was really because she never wanted to set foot in that house again. And because she didn’t want to chance seeing Serena’s ghost.

  She declared her regret over this decision when, in an attempt to follow Granny’s advice, I dragged her to the Classics Club meeting at the library.

  “In case you haven’t picked this up from Cooper, Blackwoods aren’t big readers,” she grumbled as we walked down Main Street. “I don’t know anything about A Tale of Two Cities. I don’t even know which two cities.”

  “You don’t have to say much. But you live here too, at least for now, so you might as well get to know the place.” I sighed, hating to admit the truth. “Besides, I need a babysitter. I’m counting on you to get me out of there if I look like I’m having an attack. I don’t think it will endear me to the citizens of Bristol to be seen raving and hallucinating.”

  “Fine. But I’d better not catch them giving me bitchy looks.” In what had become a tic of late, she tugged her hair—bobbed now, to better cover her missing ear—down over the right side of her face. Arabella, who I’d met as a sauntering, cocky, and frankly annoying woman, had changed a bit since Talon Wick
caught her. Outwardly she was still sauntering, cocky, and occasionally annoying. But I knew the ordeal had shaken her confidence. I could see where having an eye gouged out might do that to a person.

  “Don’t worry, they’ll probably have the good manners not to let you catch them,” I said.

  “I should have gone north with the others. It would have been more fun. Any word?”

  “Not since Tuesday.”

  Cooper had left Bristol in the trunk of Lydia’s car, while I made sure to be seen around town, so people wouldn’t suspect us of leaving. The next day, I got a text confirming (in its coded way) their safe arrival in Boston.

  That was two days ago, but I wasn’t worried. We’d all agreed that Cillian Wick was likely to be in a killing mood since we’d invaded his domain. Caution was called for when leaving Bristol, and with Cooper, caution was usually a slow business.

  There was plenty to distract me in the meanwhile. I practiced magic daily, both at the old stable and with my own unwritten story spells. Several times a day, if I could manage it. The weaker I got physically, the more determined I became to make my spellcraft as strong as it could be.

  I even had a wild, barely acknowledged hope that if I got powerful enough, I might find a way to break the curse by simply having the stronger will. Strong enough to defeat Number Twelve Fenwick Street, to defeat poor Serena beyond the grave.

  When I wasn’t doing that or attending to hotel business (most of which I left in Lance’s capable hands), I was doing my best to get out amongst the people of Bristol. In just four days, I’d eaten at every restaurant on Main Street, lingered over tea at The Witch’s Brew, even attended the elementary school play. And now this.

  Dan Alexander was behind the front desk at the library, giving instructions to a teenager who seemed to be about to take over for him. Stout and round-faced, he was one of only a handful of high school classmates who had always been friendly to me. But he tensed when I asked him where the meeting was.

  “It’s down in the basement, but… you do know my mother runs the Classics Club, right?”

  Balls.

  Helen Alexander was a member of the Garden Club. “No, Granny failed to mention that when she invited me.”