Combined with her wanting a fresh start in Shadowvale, he now understood that Amelia’s niece was in financial trouble. Maybe that’s why Em had really come here. To get help from Amelia.
He’d never known Amelia to be stingy. Not even remotely. She’d poured tons of money into this town, and continued to do so, donating much of the money made from the gem mines to make sure the town was well supplied with everything. Top-notch schools, a fire department that lacked for nothing, a hospital equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, perfectly maintained roads even here in the back country, a library that was as beautiful as it was functional…this town put most normal ones to shame.
Shadowvale might be cursed, but not when it came to its standard of living.
So why would Amelia withhold funds from her niece? There was only one answer Deacon could think of. Amelia didn’t know that Em was struggling. But that excuse felt thin. Amelia knew a lot. She could sense things like that. Anticipate them, even.
What was holding her back from helping Em, then? He turned onto Orleans Road, and they entered the swamp proper.
Em put her hands on the dashboard and leaned forward like she was trying to get a better look at things. “Is this it? The swamp?”
“It is. Part of it anyway. This is Bayou Orleans.”
“Shadowvale has mountains and an enchanted forest and a swamp and bayous? Just how big is Shadowvale?”
“How did you know the forest is enchanted?”
“I saw the sign when we left the cemetery. The arrow in the opposite direction said Enchanted Forest. Or is that like a kids’ playground or something?”
“No, it’s a real enchanted forest. And that sign’s really more of a warning.”
She laughed. “Of course it is. So really, how big is this place?”
“No one knows. The place has been surveyed three times. All three results have been different. Shadowvale is as big or small as it needs to be. But yes, we have all those things. There’s a lake, too. And a river.”
Her brows went up, and she returned to studying the scenery. “Okay, so Bayou Orleans. This is where the vampires live?”
“It’s one of the main places they live. Bayou Orleans is primarily home to the Thibodeaux family.”
“And they’re vampires? Why here?”
He nodded. “Every last one of them. I suppose this area reminds them of their roots in Louisiana.” He slowed down as they approached the first of the Thibodeaux homesteads. “That’s one of their houses now.”
She turned to look. “That is not what I thought a swamp house would look like.”
“Around here, that’s what’s known as a low-country-style house.”
“And it’s built up on stilts like that to avoid flooding?”
“In theory. We don’t really get flooding in Shadowvale. Mostly, I think the Thibodeauxes built it like that because it’s the kind of house they grew up in, and it gives them an added level of security.”
She glanced at him. “Are vampires in danger here?”
“No. But old habits die hard.”
“Are they the only ones who live in the swamp? I mean, Bayou Orleans?”
“No. Anyone who wants to can live out here.” He drove on, and more houses came into view.
She studied each house with genuine interest. “Do the people that live here have to contribute in some way? I mean, do they work? Or are most of these people independently wealthy?”
He snorted. “Most of us work. There are a few who choose to be left alone, and everyone respects that. And yes, a few are independently wealthy.” Like Amelia.
“So are the vampires loaded?”
“They have money, but most of them still work. The Thibodeauxes’ eldest son, Valentino, runs the jazz club in town. The second-oldest son, Constantin, operates the other bookstore I mentioned, the Gilded Page. The eldest daughter, Daniella, grows orchids and some other exotic plants that she sells through the town florist. The youngest, Juliette, is a painter.”
“Those all seem like interesting professions.”
“When you’re hundreds of years old, I imagine you need something interesting to do to keep from getting bored.”
“Good point.” She kept looking at him, then narrowed her eyes a bit. “What do you do?”
He’d been wondering when she’d get around to that. “I’m Shadowvale’s peacekeeper.” He didn’t like to call himself the law, even if he was. The town didn’t have a regular police force. There was no need. Yet.
She nodded, taking that in. “So you stop fights and stuff like that?”
How much did he want to tell her about himself? That wasn’t an easy question to answer, but he wanted to be truthful. No real reason not to be. “I can if called upon, but primarily what I do is—”
His phone rang with the siren ringtone. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
But that ringtone meant only one thing. He was about to show her what he did.
* * *
Em went back to looking at houses while Deacon answered his phone. She tried not to listen to his call, but she couldn’t help it. They were in the same vehicle. It was impossible not to.
And while the houses were beautiful (she could definitely see the appeal of living up on stilts like that), they weren’t as interesting as finding out more about the very curious man beside her.
“This is Deacon,” he said into the phone. He kept his right hand hooked overtop the steering wheel, right at the apex of it, his arm stretched out and slightly flexed. There was something very sexy about that casual position.
She swallowed and did her best to look like she wasn’t listening.
“Again? Okay. Where? Right. Sure, I understand. Give me a few minutes. I’m in Bayou Orleans.” He hung up and made a three-point turn in the road, sending them back toward town. “You want me to drop you off on Main Street? I need to take care of something.”
No way was she letting him ditch her now. “No, I’m fine to ride along.”
He gave her a look that showed her he clearly had not been expecting that answer.
Adorable. “Is there something confidential about peacekeeping work that I’m not aware of? Some kind of client-peacekeeper privilege?”
“No. But what I do isn’t typical peacekeeping work.”
“Then what is it?”
“What I do is more personal.”
She crossed her arms. “Such as?”
“When a person’s curse gets too much for them to handle, or becomes a danger to them or those around them, I step in. To keep the peace.”
“You fix curses?”
“More like I help the person get rid of them. Temporarily.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
He sighed. “If you’re that person, I suppose it is.”
“But not…for you?”
His jaw tightened, and he didn’t answer right away. “My curse is the ability to take on another person’s curse. I absorb it. It only removes their curse from them temporarily.”
“And for you? Are you stuck with it?”
“Until the moon rises, yes.”
That seemed a lot more troublesome. “Do you feel the effects of their curse?”
He nodded. “I feel the effects, but I always survive them.”
“Ouch. What particular curse are you going to take care of now?”
“Frieda Ruhday’s. She’s broken out in spines again. It happens every couple of months. Usually, she just stays in until it passes, but—”
“Spines? Like a porcupine?”
“Close. But the spines are short, deep blue, and venomous.”
Em jerked back. “What? That doesn’t sound good at all. Why do you have to take this on? You said she normally stays in until it passes. Why not this time?”
“Because her daughter has a recital tonight.”
“Yikes, she has a kid? What if the kid gets stuck by one of those poisonous spines?”
“Brianna’s immune.”
“Does thi
s woman have any other children with the same curse?”
“No, Brianna’s an only child.”
Em cringed as a new thought occurred to her. “Please don’t tell me the little girl has the same curse.”
“We don’t know yet. Nothing’s manifested, but then, curses don’t always show up right away. Sometimes they arrive later in life.”
She was fascinated. “Was yours like that?”
“No. I was born with it.”
This was the most he’d shared about himself so far. It felt big. Like he was trusting her. She loved that. Trust wasn’t something she got a lot from people. Not those who knew who she was anyway. “Are you an only child?”
“Nope.” He turned back onto Main. “Two brothers, one sister.”
“Big family. Where are you in the bunch?”
“Second oldest. Shep, then me, then Bishop, then Grace. Well, we all call her Gracie. Most folks do.”
“Shep, as in…?”
“Shepherd.”
She pondered that. “Shepherd, Deacon, Bishop, and Grace?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is your father a pastor?”
He laughed. “No. Our mother was a very religious woman. Almost became a nun, actually.” The lightness in his eyes faded. “But then she met my father, and he talked her out of it. Talked her into marrying him instead of the church.”
He blamed his father for that. Or for something. She didn’t know what, but she could tell by the way his gaze went distant and his jaw tightened back up. There was some bad blood there. Maybe his father was a hard man.
She’d never known her father, so she couldn’t relate, but she knew what it felt like to have a difficult parent. That much she could understand. “Sorry.”
He glanced at her. “For what?”
“For whatever it is about your father that makes you unhappy.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Use your magic to figure me out. Stay out of my head.” He made a sharp turn off Main, the momentum pushing her into her seat.
“I wasn’t—”
He straightened the truck as they entered a residential area. “Just don’t.”
She kept quiet then, mostly because she wasn’t sure saying anything more was going to help, but also because she couldn’t be certain she hadn’t used her magic to read him. She’d been so good at figuring people out all her life that she’d taken it for granted, until her aunt’s explanation that something like that might actually be her magic at work.
So maybe she had done that to him. She hadn’t intended to. “If I did, I didn’t mean to. Honestly. I don’t know how to use my magic that way yet. But I’m sorry anyway.”
He frowned. “Sorry I snapped.”
She nodded. “It’s okay. We all have a tender spot.”
He pulled into the driveway of a little yellow house with white shutters and a green door.
The front door opened as he shut the truck off.
A very worried-looking woman covered in short, thin, deep-blue spines stepped out onto the porch.
“Oh my,” Em whispered. She knew she shouldn’t stare, especially not with her mouth open, but it was impossible to do anything else. “I’d say less porcupine, more puffer fish.”
Deacon shot her a glance. “Don’t touch anything.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Chapter Eleven
Deacon wasn’t really worried about Em being there. She was smart enough to know how to handle herself and seemed like she’d err on the side of politeness when in doubt.
He just didn’t want Frieda to think he’d invited someone along to rubberneck during her time of misfortune. “Frieda, this is Emeranth, Amelia’s niece. I’m showing her around town today, so I had to bring her with me. I hope that’s okay.”
Em stuck her hand up in a tentative little wave.
“Amelia’s niece?” Frieda glanced at Em. “Hi. I, uh, don’t usually look like this.”
“Deacon told me,” Em said. “No worries.”
“Yeah,” Deacon said. “I explained.” Em still looked a little lost in the reality of what was happening. Which was probably a good thing. Maybe this would be the straw that kept the camel from moving here permanently. Not that she remotely resembled a camel.
Frieda offered Em a tense smile, then looked back at Deacon. “Thank you for coming. I’m sorry to call, but with Brianna’s recital tonight…”
“Stop apologizing,” he said. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She sighed. “I really thought it would have cleared up by now.”
“When did it start?”
“Two days ago.” She wrung her hands together. “Seems like it lasts longer and longer each time it happens.”
Em stayed by the truck. “What makes it happen? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Frieda shrugged. “It just comes on.”
“Next time, call me sooner. You don’t need to deal with this.” Deacon knew from experience that only her palms and the soles of her feet were untouched by the curse.
Frieda shrugged as best she could. “But then you have to deal with it. And that’s not fair either.”
Fair wasn’t something that had applied to the Evermores in a long time. “Still. I’m here to help. So call me. Now let’s get it taken care of so you can get ready for that recital.”
“Thanks again.” Frieda started to move back toward the house. “Should we go inside?”
He shook his head. “We can do it right here.”
“Okay.” She came down the porch stairs to stand closer to him.
Em hadn’t budged from the side of the truck. He was good with that.
“You know the drill.” He lifted his arms, palms up. “Give me your hands.”
Frieda held hers out as she moved toward him, finally making careful contact.
Deacon took a breath and flipped the little mental switch inside himself that opened up his curse vacuum.
Frieda’s trouble hit him like a baby grand piano, nearly flattening him with the impact. He laced his fingers with hers to hold on so he could be sure he took all of it. Finally, the onslaught turned into a trickle. Instinct told him that was the last of it.
That and the woman across from him no longer resembled a pin cushion.
He let go of Frieda. A second later, his body went numb. Then a familiar tingling spread over him. He knew what was coming next. He rolled his shoulders and braced himself as every nerve ending erupted in fire and the spines burst through his skin.
Em’s sudden gasp barely registered over his own grunt of pain.
In a few more seconds, the pain subsided, and the curse was fully realized.
In front of him stood Frieda, looking how she usually looked. Like a middle-aged mom. She smiled at him. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I would hug you, but…”
“Yeah, I know. Enjoy the recital.”
She headed back inside. “I will now.”
He turned to Em. Her eyes were rounded and filled with concern and questions. “Yes, I’m okay. Yes, it hurt, but it doesn’t now.”
She kept staring. “I know those spines are deadly, but I still want to touch one. Like when you’re a little kid and the stove is hot, but you have to see for yourself? It’s kind of like that.”
He put his hands up. “Don’t.”
“I’m not going to.” She pulled out her phone. “But I have to get a picture of this.”
He snorted. “Good luck.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You won’t be able to.”
“Sure I will.” She wiggled her phone. “I’ve got my camera right here.”
He put one hand on the hood of his truck and leaned. “Try it.”
She lifted the phone and snapped a picture, then looked at the screen. “Hang on, I hit the wrong thing.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. Let me try it again.”
He rolled his eyes, thoroughly amused. “Have at it.”
She snapped a second picture and checked again. She frowned. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Told you. The town protects those who live here.”
She stared at her phone a second longer before looking up at him. “Are you kidding me? The town is making my phone malfunction?”
“Yep. Well, those meridian lines are.” He glanced down. And was suddenly glad she hadn’t let him drop her off on Main Street. “Hmm. I don’t really want to get into my truck like this. The leather seats will never be the same.”
“You want me to drive?”
He nodded. “Would you?”
“Sure, but won’t you just tear up the passenger’s side?”
“No. I’m going to ride in the back.”
She looked at the truck. “So…standing up and holding on to the roll bar?”
“Pretty much.” He checked over his shoulder to get a better look at his backside. “Sitting doesn’t seem like a smart move.”
She was grinning, but trying not to.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You can laugh. I know you want to.”
“It is kind of funny. I mean, it’s also amazing that you did what you did for Frieda, but now it’s just funny. Unless you accidentally stick someone. Then it would be tragic.”
“Which is why today’s tour is over. And I need to go home.”
“Got it. How will I get back to my aunt’s, then? I’m guessing Uber doesn’t cover Shadowvale?”
“It doesn’t. But I’m sure Beckett will come and get you.”
She nodded. “Right. He will. I have no doubt.” She held her hand out.
He backed up. “I told you, no touching.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Keys?”
“Oh. Right.” He made a face. “Thankfully, they’re still in the ignition.”
“Then hop on up and let’s go. Of course, I don’t know where I’m going.”
“It’s not hard to find. You can program the address into your GPS if you want.”
She squinted at him. “So the town allows that, but not me taking a picture of you like this?”
The Trouble With Witches Page 8