He frowned. “I’m not talking about occasional bad luck, or being unable to find love, or constantly losing things.” Although those all existed in Shadowvale on grander scales. “This isn’t just hitting a rough patch in life.”
“No, I get it. You’re talking about living under a cloud. The constant presence of something you can’t change and can’t get away from. I know what you mean.”
He doubted it. Not many outside of Shadowvale could really understand it, not to the level that existed here. But he wasn’t ready to debate the true meaning of being cursed with her. He wasn’t sure it even mattered, because hopefully, he’d never have to. If all went well, a few hours of touring this place would be enough, and she’d hightail it back to wherever she’d come from.
Back to whatever guy was waiting on her. Because there had to be a guy. Or guys. He grunted. Yeah, that was more likely. Probably had a line of them waiting to take her out. A different one on the hook every night.
“What?”
He looked at her. “What what?”
“You grunted.”
“I did?”
She nodded, lips pursed, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Or is that your curse? You make random noises without knowing it?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“I was just…must have been thinking about something.” Like her abundant love life, which was inexplicably making him cranky. He really needed to change the subject. “Where’s home?”
“Outside of Oklahoma City, last. Tiny place called Bethany.”
Oklahoma. She probably preferred cowboy boots to work boots. Well, she was out of luck here. “Last?”
“We move around a lot. Moved. Hopefully, that’s over.”
We. So there was a man in her life. The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I see. Won’t you miss it?” And him?
“All that flatness? And the tornadoes? Nope.” She sighed. “Although the aquarium outside Tulsa was nice.”
“We don’t have an aquarium.”
“I’ll manage. I can always get a fish tank.”
“We have a couple gators in the swamp.”
She blinked. “For real?”
“Mm-hmm. Including one behemoth known as Brutus.” He shrugged. “Never bothers anyone, though.” Then he quickly added, “Yet.”
The stone arch of the cemetery entrance rose up ahead. He drove through, slowing to a crawl as he headed for the center of the graveyard. “This is it. Last Rest.”
She turned to see out the window better as they drove. “It’s, uh, very interesting.”
“You have no idea.” He parked by the enormous mausoleum at the dead middle of Last Rest. “Come on, I’ll show you a few things.”
She looked less than ecstatic to be getting out, but did so anyway.
He walked around to meet her, and they took a few steps toward the mausoleum.
She read the words carved over the door. “In Memory. Who’s buried here?”
“No one. It’s just that. In memory of someone who disappeared.”
“Who was it?”
More truth-telling, but what else was he supposed to do? Wasn’t like she couldn’t find out if she wanted anyway. “I guess the man who would have been your uncle.”
Em looked at him. “Really? Why ‘would have been’? Were he and Aunt Amelia not married?”
“No one knows for sure, and she doesn’t like to talk about it.” He was probably telling her too much, but he’d mentioned in front of Amelia that he was taking Em to the cemetery, and she hadn’t told him not to. And Amelia had to know a visit here would lead to this conversation.
Em stepped up and put her hand on the door. “Uncle who?”
“Pasqual.”
“Why did he disappear?”
“Not sure.”
She glanced at him. “You don’t know much, do you?”
He barked out a laugh. “Your aunt isn’t the chattiest person. She keeps a lot to herself.” He shrugged. “Which is fine. This is her town, after all.”
Em’s brows lifted slowly. “What do you mean ‘her town’?”
“Shadowvale is here because of her. Her magic, her influence, her desire to create a place where Pasqual would be safe.”
Em shook her head. “Okay, slow down. You’re giving me a lot of information in a short amount of time. Explain. Why is this her town? And why would Pasqual need a place to be safe? Safe from what? Or who?”
He took a breath, again warring with how much to tell her. “This is your aunt’s town because her magic created it and continues to protect it from discovery. Her magic keeps all of us safe. As safe as we can be with the curses we carry.”
She just stared at him, so he continued. “If we lived in the outside world, we’d be branded as freaks. Or forced to live our lives in isolation. For some of us, it would be worse.”
“So Shadowvale is like a haven, then? For people who are outsiders for whatever reason?”
“That’s a pretty good simple explanation, yes.”
“And is that why Pasqual needed to be safe? Because of his curse?”
Deacon hesitated. “Not exactly…I mean, maybe. I’d say it was more because of who he was. Or what he was. Whether you’d consider that a curse is relative, I suppose.”
“Okay, just explain it. Because I’m not following you at all. Who or what was Uncle Pasqual?”
This was going to be interesting. “He was a vampire.”
* * *
Em stared at Deacon without saying anything while her brain tried to sort out what he’d just said, but the first thing her brain came up with was that she hadn’t heard him right. “I could have sworn you said vampire.”
“I did.”
She went back to staring for a few seconds. “So you’re saying vampires are real.”
He nodded.
“Like, actual vampires? I realize that since I just found out there are witches, and that I might be one, this shouldn’t be so hard to accept, but really? Vampires? Those seem so…so…I don’t know…made up.”
“They’re not.”
She sat down on the steps of the mausoleum. “Are they dangerous, or are they sparkly?”
“Well, they’re not sparkly. But they’re not necessarily dangerous either. They could be. Any of us could be.”
“Whoa.” Everything in her went on alert. “Any of us? Are you a vampire?”
“No.”
“Good. I mean, it would be fine if you were. I guess.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “This might be a little bit much for me to take in.”
He nodded and leaned against a nearby headstone. “Take your time.”
She blew out a breath. Time wasn’t going to answer her questions. Not with the kind of speed she wanted anyway. “Why was Shadowvale safe for Pasqual? Was he the only vampire allowed here?”
“It was safe for him because the sun never shines. And no.”
She glanced up at the cloud cover. “Never? Or do you mean Shadowvale is like the Seattle of the South, overcast more often than not and always on the verge of a downpour?”
“It rains about the same as anywhere else, but the clouds are permanent until the sun sets. We almost always have a clear night sky. It’s one of the ways the town maintains a balance.”
He made it sound like the town made that decision. She shook it off. “Are there other vampires in town, then?”
“Yes.”
“And other witches?”
“Yep.”
“What else?”
“That’s a tough question. There are all kinds of supernaturals who live here, and not all of them fall into a distinct category. Then there are the humans who are just cursed and not really supernatural at all.”
“Give me an example.”
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Fred Chimes. He has a nervous condition that makes him invisible during times of extreme stress. Every time Lucy Smothers sneezes, lightning cracks the sky. Last time she had a cold, the park
pavilion almost burned down and three blocks had no power for a day and a half due to a blown transformer.”
She took all that in, trying to accept that these were real people with real problems, but it all sounded so crazy. “And there are lots of people like that in town?”
“To varying degrees, yes.”
“What about the supernaturals who live here? You said they don’t all fit into distinct categories. Like who?”
He glanced upward for a second, thinking who best fit that description. It wasn’t a surprise who came to mind. “Nasha Black. She owns Black Horse Bakery here in town.”
“What kind of supernatural is she?”
“I don’t know what you’d call her exactly, but her father is one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
Em frowned. “Come on.”
“I’m being serious. Her father is the Harbinger of Famine. She opened the bakery as a way of getting back at him. Or counterbalancing his power. Something like that.” He lifted one shoulder. “Whatever. Her stuff is good. She’s making my sister’s birthday cake.”
Which was nice of Nasha, considering that she and Shepherd hadn’t really worked out. Deacon didn’t harbor any ill will. Shep was a tough nut to crack.
Em stood up and brushed off the seat of her leggings. “Great. Let’s go there now. I want to meet this woman. See for myself. Maybe buy a cupcake.”
Chapter Eight
Deacon checked his watch. It wasn’t quite ten yet, but Nasha should be opening the bakery by the time they drove over there. He wasn’t exactly done showing Em the cemetery yet, though. “Sure, we can go downtown next.”
“Great.”
He straightened up. “First, there’s one more thing you should see here.” Something that really ought to freak her out.
“Oh?” She looked around. “What?”
He made a little squeaking sound, then waited. It wasn’t something he liked to do, but Em needed to see these wretched things for herself.
A few seconds later, a black-and-brown-striped meowl swooped in and landed on a headstone a few feet away. The beast was fifteen pounds, maybe bigger, and it looked straight at him, whiskers twitching like it could smell the raven side of him and thought it was delicious.
He glared right back at it. Creepy little thing.
Em’s mouth came open. “Is that…a cat with wings?”
“Sort of. It’s a meowl. They inhabit the cemetery mostly, although you occasionally see them in other parts of town and in the forest.”
She didn’t move. Obviously, she had the same feelings toward the meowl as he did. Good. That should help put her off Shadowvale.
The meowl blinked its big, round eyes at her, then lifted one taloned paw and gave it a lick, showing off an impressive set of pointy cat teeth.
Em glanced at him. “Are they friendly?”
“They’re not house cats, if that’s what you—”
“Hiya, kitty bird.” Em stretched out her hand. “Who’s a sweet little winged baby cat?”
What was she doing? “I wouldn’t—”
The meowl flutter-jumped onto Em’s arm and cooed at her.
Cooed.
Deacon growled a little. That hadn’t gone as planned. Maybe it was a witch thing. Maybe meowls wouldn’t bite witches. Or think they smelled like supper.
The meowl blinked at him and licked its chops.
That was enough of that. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Okay, we should probably go downtown now. See if the bakery is open. You know, cupcakes and all that.”
The meowl was nuzzling Em’s neck, and she was scratching its head. “What did you say this little cat-bird was called again?”
He frowned. “A meowl. And they can be very dangerous.”
“Right. Like vampires are sometimes.”
“Meowls bite.”
She made a face that said she was clearly trying not to laugh. “Don’t vampires do that, too?”
He made a face back at her, but she didn’t see it because she was too busy petting and talking baby talk to the vile creature perched on her arm.
She scratched under its chin, making it purr. “Well, this meowl is a darling. Aren’t you, precious?”
He refrained from making a gagging sound. “You can’t take it home. They aren’t domesticated.” Plus, Thoreau would probably try to eat it. Or actually eat it. Either would be fine with Deacon.
“Okay.” She kissed the meowl on the head. “You fly off now, kitty bird. I’ll come back and visit you again. I’ll bring you some treats, too.”
“You’re not putting live mice in my truck, so that’s a return trip you can take on your own.”
She tipped her head at him. “I’m not bringing it live mice. I was thinking more like regular cat treats from the store. You do have a grocery store in Shadowvale, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She went back to smiling at the meowl. She lifted her arm. “Bye, sweetie.”
Sweetie. Whatever.
The meowl stretched its wings and took off, soaring back into the trees.
She watched it go. “Are there any other interesting animals like that in this town?”
“We have droxes. I don’t think those are too common elsewhere.”
“I’ve never heard of a drox, so I’m gonna say yeah, those probably just exist here. What are they?”
“They’re basically winged foxes. With dark green fur tipped in blue or purple usually.”
“That sounds amazing. Why are they called droxes?”
“Because they’ve got dragon genes in them. Hence the wings. And their ability to breathe fire.”
“Yeah, I was thinking it would be cool to see one until you added that part.”
“They pretty much live in the enchanted forest.” Along with some other creatures he wasn’t going to tell her about since she was finding it all so fascinating and not the least bit scary.
“Are we going there?”
“At some point.” If they really had to.
“Great.” She rubbed her hands together, looking rather pleased with that answer. “All right, let’s go get a cupcake from Famine’s daughter.”
“Maybe don’t call her that, okay?”
“I won’t. I was just teasing.” She put her hands on her hips, grinning madly. “Boy, the cursed are a sensitive lot.”
“Well, Nasha is. Sometimes.” Deacon grunted and headed for the truck. This was not going as planned. The only thing she’d been put off by was the mention of vampires, and even then she hadn’t seemed as freaked out as he’d expected.
His ticket out of here was looking more and more unlikely. He opened the passenger door for her, then walked around to the driver’s side, racking his brain for where to take her that might turn her off of Shadowvale.
They hadn’t been to the swamp yet. Maybe that should be their next stop after downtown. And cupcakes.
He rolled his eyes. There was nothing scary about cupcakes. Then he grinned a little. Nasha Black was pretty Goth and definitely had an unpredictable streak. Maybe she’d do something that would freak Em out.
He cranked the engine and left the cemetery behind.
She gazed out the window. “Always cloudy, huh?”
He nodded. That could be the thing that would get to her. Some people couldn’t take days and days of no sun. And there wasn’t much alternative in Shadowvale until you drove up the mountains past the twilight line to a place like Nightingale Park. Or went to one of the spots in town that offered artificial UV.
Gracie went to them sometimes.
Which was why he understood why some folks lived up above the twilight line. If you needed sun, you needed sun. But raven shifters were night creatures, and the lack of sun had never been a problem for the Evermores. Except for Gracie.
But then, Gracie was the exception to a lot of things.
He looked over at Em. She was still peering out the window as if she thought an errant ray of light might suddenly app
ear. Well, it wouldn’t. Not ever. Not unless Amelia’s magic suddenly stopped working. “You like your sun, huh?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never really given it much thought.”
“The lack of it makes some people crazy.”
She raised her brows. “How can you tell in a town like this?”
“Very funny. I just mean some people get that seasonal depression disorder. It’s a real thing. Lack-of-sun sickness.”
“I’ve heard of it. But I’m guessing those people wouldn’t choose to live in Shadowvale.”
She wasn’t wrong. But she wasn’t completely on target either. “You can’t really just choose to live in Shadowvale. I mean, you can try, but it doesn’t always work out that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because the town doesn’t let just anyone in.”
“It let me in.”
True. “You’re a special case, being Amelia’s blood relative and all. Most people come here because they’re called here in some way. Because they need a place like this to be safe and free. Others have nowhere else to go. Some are chosen.”
“Or maybe, like me, they need a place like this to figure out what comes next in their life. Where they can be with family and leave the past behind.” She studied her fingernails. “I just want a fresh start, you know?”
He did know. He wanted that very same thing for himself, somewhere outside of Shadowvale. “I understand. I just think deciding to live in a place like Shadowvale is a big step. It’s not like moving to any other town. Life here isn’t normal.”
She snorted. “Where exactly is life normal? Because I’ve yet to find it anywhere.”
“I couldn’t tell you. But I know it’s not here.”
Downtown was waking up, and the streets were getting a little busy. He realized they’d be seeing a lot of people. And while he’d warned her about not making physical contact with anyone, he hadn’t said anything about not staring. That probably wasn’t something she’d do anywhere else, but this was Shadowvale.
There was a lot more to stare at here.
“Listen, you might see some things today that shock you. Try not to react too much. Remember, people live here to escape the world’s typical reaction to them.”
The Trouble With Witches Page 6