Grim Haven (Devilborn Book 1)

by Jen Rasmussen

  Which meant that whatever had happened to him, it probably wasn’t at the hands of the Wicks.

  Thanks to his healing superpower, Cooper was physically fine by midday. His mental state was something else entirely. He stayed in bed, curled tightly into himself, and didn’t speak. I brought him a sandwich and some coffee, which both sat untouched on the end table, and tiptoed around, trying to decide whether it was cowardly or considerate to leave him alone until he was ready to talk.

  I spent a good part of the day writing spells, distributing them around my suite as well as the hotel. I had no idea whether or not he was followed, but even if he wasn’t, surely it was only a matter of time before his enemies came looking for him at the Mount Phearson. They certainly had last time.

  Lance came knocking that afternoon. “I thought I’d come check for myself, since I haven’t heard from you. I hear you have a guest.”

  I didn’t invite him in. “Not that it’s any of your business, but how did you know that?”

  “Rosalie was on her break this morning and saw him sneaking up the staff stairs.” His face was calm, but his voice was low and tinged with alarm. “She says he was hunched over and bloody. Barely recognizable. Luckily there weren’t guests around at that hour.”

  “Or in the staff stairwell, where guests would have no reason to be,” I pointed out.

  Lance ignored the jab. “It was very upsetting for her.”

  “Well, sorry to upset Rosalie. And thank you for your concern. Cooper is fine.”

  “Can I see him?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Can you see him? Are you accusing me of something, Lance?”

  “You’ve been acting strangely,” Lance said. “Even for you. I just want to verify everything is okay.”

  “We’re fine.”

  “What happens in this hotel is my concern, you know. That is what you pay me for.”

  “But I do not pay you to babysit me,” I said. “Now for the third time, we’re fine.”

  “Who did you say saw me?” Cooper was standing behind me, still in his bloody clothes, but upright, at least.

  Lance looked shocked by the sight of him. I couldn’t say I blamed him for that. Cooper was so thin and pale he might have passed for a wraith, if not for all the dirt and blood he was caked in. Had it really only been ten days since I’d last seen him? How could he have lost so much weight, in so short a time?

  His voice was thin, too, as he said, “Who else knows I’m here?”

  “Rosalie,” Lance said. “She told me, and Agatha. I don’t know if—”

  Cooper let out a string of foul words, his voice seeming to gain strength with each one, while Lance and I stared. Finally he asked, “Can you contain it?”

  When Lance finally recovered his powers of speech he said, “I can try. I’ll find out who else she’s told, and see that it’s kept quiet. Hotel staff generally know better than to violate the privacy of guests.”

  “Do that.” Without a word of thanks, or any of his usual charm, Cooper walked away again. I watched him for long enough to see him get back into bed, then turned back to Lance.

  “Fine?” was all Lance said.

  “Sorry. He, um, needs rest.”

  I got rid of Lance as quickly as I could, but when I came back inside, Cooper still wasn’t talking. He’d resumed his fetal position on the couch, and there he stayed until the next morning.

  Rather than cooking him breakfast in my meager kitchenette, I decided to try to tempt him with something from The Witch’s Brew. Superhealer or not, it couldn’t be good for him to have gone so long without food. I walked over to the shop and asked Wendy for half a dozen assorted croissants.

  “I hear Cooper’s back,” she said.

  “Balls,” I said. “Keep it to yourself for now, will you? I’m sure there’s no hope of it not getting around, but he got really upset when he heard Rosalie saw him.”

  “Rosalie’s the one who told me. She was worried about him.”

  I nodded and shrugged at the same time. “He’s had a hard time of it. He needs to rest.”

  “Anything I can help with? You need protection herbs, or anything? I can make you a couple of poppets.”

  I tried not to let my distaste at that last offer show. A lot of witches swear by poppets for protection, but I’ve always found the little dolls unspeakably creepy.

  “No, I think we’ve got it covered,” I said. “But thank you.”

  Wendy nodded, but she didn’t look pleased. In fact, she looked almost angry. “Hang on a sec, will you?”

  I stepped aside and waited while she dealt with the customer who’d come in behind me. As soon as he was gone, Wendy pulled me behind the counter, near the office door, where she could still keep an eye on things but we wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Here’s the thing, okay?” she said. “We don’t know each other well. You have no reason to come to me with your problems.”

  “But?”

  “But this is my town,” Wendy said. “I’ve lived in Bristol my whole life, it’s where my family is, and I love it, warts and all.”

  I didn’t know what to say, because I had no idea what she was trying to say. Did she think I was infringing on her territory, or something? “I don’t understand,” I said honestly.

  “When we were at your pub that day, Cooper gave everyone the short version of what Wick wants, remember?” Wendy asked.

  I nodded.

  “So, what he wants involves me. It involves all of Bristol. And I have a right to defend my home.”

  “Ahh,” I said. “So basically, you’re saying you want me to come to you with my problems.”

  “I do when they’re my problems, too.”

  I smiled at her. “You and your friend Lydia have a lot in common.”

  She laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant it as one.”

  Mostly, anyway. I admired both women. And I was genuinely grateful for their help. Without Wendy, things might have gone differently for little Jake Foley.

  But I wasn’t used to having help thrust upon me, either. And I was still a bit confounded by their eagerness to put themselves in danger. I’d spent my whole life trying not to get involved in the kinds of things they seemed to run toward without a second thought. Pushing people out of their way to get there, if necessary.

  Then again, maybe they were the ones who had it right. Wendy did have a right to defend her home.

  “Look,” I said, “there are things I just flat-out can’t tell you, at least not yet. But if you’re willing to live with that for now, I could probably use some help. Cooper seemed really, really worried about word he’s here getting out. I have no idea why; I’m sure it’s the first place Wick will look anyway. But if you know of any spells that might—”

  But Wendy was already shaking her head. “I can’t make him invisible. If it was that easy to hide somebody, the Bristol devil wouldn’t have had to make his deal, would he?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Still, we can stack some protective spells around him. It’s better when you’ve got energy coming from multiple witches. Like layering against the cold.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  She nodded. “I’ll call my Granny, too. I’ll send a few potions and poppets over to the hotel for you later today.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and I meant it, despite the fact that I was apparently going to have to accept poppets, after all. I cleared my throat. “I’ll admit I’m not good at…”

  Working with people? Doing magic with people? Talking to people?

  “… people,” I finished simply.

  Wendy grinned at me. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. We’ll leave you no choice.”

  I had a moment of panic when I got back to my suite, thinking Cooper had gone, until I heard the shower running. Well, surely that was a good sign for his recovery. And it was good for me either way. Even Cooper Blackwood couldn’t make the combined smell o
f blood, sweat, and something acrid and burned that had surrounded him for the past twenty-four hours sexy. I laid the croissants and coffee out on my table, then fried some bacon to go with them, because it is a truth universally acknowledged that bacon can improve any situation.

  “Smells good.” Cooper came in just as I was taking the pan off my tiny two-burner stove. He wore nothing but a towel, which I pretended not to notice, and sat gingerly, as if he was still sore. His abdomen was riddled with ugly scars, but they looked months rather than hours old.

  “You should eat something,” I said, both because I thought it was true, and because I didn’t know what else to say.

  He nodded and took a croissant, which he started to pick apart, but made no move to actually eat.

  “Cooper, can you tell me what happened? You kept saying something yesterday, when you first got here, but it didn’t make any sense. It…” I trailed off, knowing how odd I would sound.

  “It what?” he asked.

  “It sounded like you were talking about… crawfish.”

  “Crawford,” Cooper said quietly. “Crawford Blackwood. My cousin.”

  “Oh?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said reflexively. “Were you close?”

  He shook his head slowly, then helped himself to coffee. I waited.

  “Didn’t even know him,” Cooper said finally. “Never met. We don’t meet many members of our family. I haven’t even seen my parents’ real faces since I was nineteen.”

  “Because you keep yourselves separate and isolated for safety.” When he nodded I said, “I wonder if that’s wise.”

  He shot me a glare, and I realized it was a bad time to broach the subject of Blackwood security policies. I mumbled an apology and concentrated on my croissant.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, and I was relieved to see that Cooper was indeed eating, at least. It was a start. We were nearly finished when he said, “So. You asked what happened.”

  I nodded. “If you’re okay to tell me.”

  “I’m fine. But it’s a long story, and I need to figure out something to do for clothes first, if you don’t mind. This is, ah, a little drafty.”

  I smiled and willed myself not to blush.

  “My suitcase is gone,” he went on. “My car kind of exploded a little bit.”

  I tried to look calm about that bit of news. No wonder he’d been hurt so badly. “I see.” I looked him up and down, trying not to linger too long on any one part. He was taller than Caleb Thaggard, but shorter than Lance, and broader in the shoulders than either of them. And that was about the sum of the men I knew.

  “I don’t think I know anyone your size, plus we don’t want to have to explain to anyone who doesn’t already know you’re here. I’ll have to shop. You’ll be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he assured me. “I’m sure you’re worried about Wicks coming for me, and I’m sorry to say they will, but I hope I’ve at least bought us some time. For the moment, they think I’m dead.”

  So that was why he’d been so upset that Rosalie had seen him—alive, if barely. I didn’t know how fast news would travel, through the Garden Club and back to the Wicks, but there was no doubt that it would. It was even possible Marjory had spies at the hotel; she certainly seemed to know plenty about my activities.

  I wrote Cooper some more protection spells, and told him to keep an eye out for a delivery from Wendy, too.

  “Don’t be creeped out by the poppets,” I said. “Just put one in your pock—” But of course he didn’t have any pockets.

  I looked at him, with nothing but that towel wrapped around his waist, and my stomach flipped over.

  But he needs pockets.

  “Cooper, where’s the seed? It’s not…”

  “Still sewn into the waistband of my boxers, where it belongs,” he said. “I just didn’t want to put those clothes back on.”

  “Okay. Good.” I forced my eyes away from his mostly-naked—and so nicely muscled—body again. “So. Poppets. Just, um, hold one, I guess, until I get back. I know that sounds weird, but they really are good for protection.”

  I called Rosalie from the road. She claimed the Boyles and Wendy were the only people she’d told about seeing Cooper.

  “I went to Lance’s suite straight away,” she said. “He seemed to think I might be exaggerating, but I told him how bloody Cooper was. I mean, my first instinct was to call 911, of course, but… Well, you know how Bristol is. Injuries and accidents aren’t always what they seem… and you don’t seem to get along with that little pill Asher Glass, not that I blame you, and I wasn’t sure about authorities…”

  “You did the right thing,” I said. “And I appreciate it. But Rosalie, it really is important that we keep this secret. I promise, Cooper’s not running from the police or doing anything illegal. But his life could depend on it.”

  At least, I hope he’s not running from the police or doing anything illegal.

  “I understand,” Rosalie said. “I only asked Wendy about it because I went for a tea to calm my nerves, and I know she’s your friend. I thought she might know something. It was just so awful, the way he looked.”

  “I know,” I said. “But it looked worse than it was. He’s okay, really. I just… need to let him rest here for a while. Undisturbed.” I had no idea whether that was true either, but it sounded good enough.

  She was quiet for a second before she asked, “It’s really life or death?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It really is.”

  Rosalie made a noise like a frightened kitten, and I had a bad feeling about what she was going to say next.

  “Then I have to confess. I may have let something slip to Jamie, too. Please don’t tell Lance! It was an accident, and I swear, there’s nobody else.”

  I called Jamie next, and made sure he knew his job was on the line if he breathed a word of Cooper’s presence to anyone.

  “Phearson business does not leave the Phearson,” he assured me. “I have a degree in hospitality management, you know. Respecting the guests’ privacy is like the first rule.”

  I wasn’t sure I trusted him, or Rosalie either, but I didn’t have a lot of say in the matter.

  I rushed through the shopping as fast as I could, no doubt making some questionable fashion choices on Cooper’s behalf. I didn’t like leaving him any longer than I had to, not without knowing exactly what kind of trouble we were facing. Or after the way I’d seen him the day before.

  When I got back to my room, Cooper was sitting at my desk, in front of my laptop. He’d swapped the towel for my bathrobe.

  Balls, that means he was in my closet. How messy did I leave it?

  “That’s a nice look for you,” I said.

  He pulled a poppet out of the chest pocket and held it up. “But it has pockets,” he said with a smile.

  I averted my eyes. “Gross, put that away.”

  “You said it was really good for protection!”

  “It is, but they give me the creeps.”

  “Bet you’re afraid of clowns too, aren’t you?”

  “Everybody’s afraid of clowns.”

  But more alarming than the faceless little doll was the fact that Cooper had apparently accepted its delivery. “You answered the door?” I asked.

  “Wendy brought it herself,” he said. “She had a potion, too, to be poured around the door frame and windows, which I’ve done. But I actually answered the door twice.” He waved away the look I gave him. “Don’t worry, it was just Lance the second time. That guy cannot contain his nosiness.”

  “Well, to be fair, you gave everyone quite a scare. What did you tell him?”

  “That we’d meet him later, to talk about the fine dining place.”

  I laughed. “What? You scheduled a meeting?”

  “It was the quickest way to get rid of him.”

  Cooper smiled. And it was, I realized, his normal smile. And he was making normal jokes, teasing me about cl
owns, laughing at Lance. Like I’d just come back from a normal errand, and we were having a normal conversation. Yesterday, even after he’d recovered physically, something had had him so tortured he couldn’t even get out of bed. And now…

  Now he’s stalling. Because he doesn’t want to tell me about that something.

  I hoped that wasn’t true, but I had a sinking feeling it was. Cooper was one of the bravest people I’d ever met, and he wasn’t one to shy away from difficult conversations. So how bad must this be?

  I nodded at the laptop as I handed him the bags of clothes. “Have you been in touch with your father?”

  “No. I don’t like to be cruel, but I think it’s best if I don’t surface at all until I have to. I was just reading news.” He rummaged until he found jeans, boxers, and a t-shirt. “I’ll get dressed.”

  While he did that, I unpacked a couple of subs I’d brought back and poured us both some sweet tea. When we were finally settled Cooper said, “Thanks, by the way. For the clothes and everything.”

  “No problem.”

  For a few minutes, he didn’t say anything more. I was just trying to think of a gentle way to prompt him, when he finally started talking.

  “I thought I’d lost them. The Wicks. I did all the right things, kept moving, used the right routes, communicated through the right channels. After the first day or two, there was no sign of them. No sign that anyone was even looking for me anymore.”

  “So you did lose them,” I said.

  Then how did you end up with your guts spilling between your fingers? I swallowed back that question. Let him get to it in his own time.

  “Not without help,” Cooper said. “They got distracted.”

  “By what?”

  “A call from Talon, if I had to guess. Saying he found Crawford. He didn’t make the same mistake Kestrel did, and try to bring my cousin down on his own.”

  “So they gave up trying to catch up with you,” I said. “At least temporarily. To go after prey whose location they were more certain of.”

  “If I had to guess,” Cooper said again. “The only thing I can really tell you for a fact is, a few days after I left here, I got a message. That Crawford was dead. Headshot. There’s no healing that.”