Grim Haven (Devilborn Book 1) (17 page)

His jaw got tight, but he nodded. “What does it involve?”

“Sanctuary.”

Cooper took my plan a lot better than I expected him to. But he also left Bristol the next day.

“Do you remember what you said, the day of the attack?” he asked when he came to my suite that morning, to tell me he was leaving.

“Refresh my memory,” I said.

“You said we wouldn’t fight on their terms. We’d fight them on our terms, when we had a plan of our own.”

“I did say that, didn’t I? But I didn’t mean—”

“You also said I had to take responsibility for my own choices.”

“Okay, I
really
didn’t mean—”

“But you were right,” Cooper said, jumping in to interrupt me for the second time. His eyes were intense and restless, moving from my face to the window and back again. “I’m always letting someone else set the terms. My father, the Wicks, even you. It’s time to set my own terms.”

“Okay,” I said. “So what are your terms?”

Cooper shook his head. “I won’t keep doing things the way the Blackwoods always have. I seem to be short a willing army, but there are other ways to fight a war.”

“What does that mean?”

“That’s what I’m off to figure out,” he said with a shrug.

“You could figure it out here. If I get this to work…” I stopped and cleared my throat, trying to choose words that wouldn’t sound like I was offering more than I intended to. Or more than he would want. “This could be a safe place for you,” I said. “If you wanted one.”

“It’s best if I go. For now, at least. It’s going to take you some time to learn how your father’s sanctuary worked. That’s got to be pretty complicated magic.”

“I’m sure it is,” I agreed.

“Well, you don’t need the Wicks breathing down your neck while you do it. Your Garden Club seems bad enough.”

I laughed. “Yeah, who’d have thought flower ladies could be so brutal?”

He returned my smile, but his eyes were sad. I was disappointing him again. But so be it. I was not prepared to fight his war for him. Or to risk Bristol doing it.

“So you’re planning on drawing Cillian and Falcon off?” I asked.

He nodded. “No way they’ll let an opportunity to catch me slip by. They can’t do anything with Bristol unless they have all the seeds anyway.”

I swallowed and just said what I was thinking, hard as it was to admit. “I’m scared for you.”

Cooper gave me his best smile, and I felt that old crackle of energy between us. I no longer thought it was just my imagination. But it didn’t matter. Telling a man you’re not willing to help in his life-or-death struggle for the survival of his entire family (and possibly the entire world, down the line) will kill a romance every time.

“You don’t need to be,” he said. “I’ve lost them before. And I have the potion, if the curse is still hanging around. But I was hoping you’d write me some protection spells.”

I did, of course. As I handed them to him, he handed me something else: a small card, like a business card, but all that was on it was a website address.

“I won’t be able to risk a phone for a while, but that’s a link to one of my dating profiles,” he said. “Check it in a couple of days. If I’m okay, I’ll post that I’ve just gotten out of a difficult relationship, and I’m open to finding a new partner.”

I nodded and refrained from asking whether the
difficult relationship
would refer to Cillian Wick, or to me.

He kissed my cheek then, his lips warm, and he smelled so good. It was all I could do not to make a fool of myself.

“Good luck, Verity,” he said.

There was a lot I wanted to say in return, but all that came out was, “Same to you, Cooper.”

And then he was gone.

I didn’t waste time—well, not much time, anyway—moping or worrying about him. My first priority was protecting my hotel, and by extension, the entire town. I could be lovesick when I had a spare minute.

Lydia Murdoch had told me I needed to be a general in the battle for Bristol. If I was lucky, there would never be such a battle. Cillian Wick would never get those seeds, and I’d never see him again.

But I couldn’t count on luck. I needed to become a guardian, if not a general.

I called Phineas and asked if I might take him up on his offer to come and visit them.

“You’re sure it’s safe to leave the hotel?” he asked.

“I’ll bring some potion with me, just in case the curse hasn’t passed.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Because I’d like to see you, but I doubt I’ll be getting Lydia to set foot in Bristol any time soon.”

I drove to Charlotte that same day, and made it to their house by mid-afternoon, in time for an early Sunday dinner. Lydia answered the door, looking mostly healthy, apart from the dark circles under her eyes.

I stammered and mumbled, first a greeting, then an apology. I’d worried the entire three hour drive about my reception. Had Phineas forced her to invite me? Would she hold a grudge?

I couldn’t say I wouldn’t, if our positions were reversed. That hadn’t been her battle. But she’d fought it anyway, as a favor to Max, and she’d been wounded.

Lydia frowned, like I was speaking a foreign language, then finally started laughing. “Oh, I get it. You think I’m mad at you!”

I blinked at her. “I just… feel bad.”

She stepped aside to let me in, and made a dismissive noise. “Not your fault. Believe me, we know better than to show up in Bristol without expecting trouble. Anyway, I’m fine.”

“I’m glad.” I followed her down a hallway, past a dining room where the big table was already set for, at a quick count, five. I wondered what that was about, but I didn’t like to interrupt her.

“Although I won’t lie to you, vomiting is about the worst punishment you can give me,” Lydia went on. “I cannot abide it, I swear. I have a surprise for you, by the way.”

We came into the living room just as she said it. Max Underwood sat on the couch, talking to an older woman with a cat on her lap.

I stared at them, frozen, wanting to run.

“Sorry,” Lydia whispered. “I had no idea you’d be so nervous, or I’d have had Phineas call and warn you.”

There was no doubt it was Max. Still thin, still wan, still with that solemn look in his eye. But his years in the closet had clearly taken their toll; he looked at least a decade older than me, despite our being about the same age.

He regarded me with curiosity, but no hostility that I could see.

“I…” I cleared my throat. “It’s nice to see you, Max.”

“Is it? I combed my hair.”

“Oh. It looks very nice.”

“This must be Verity, then.” The other woman gave me a sweet smile. “I’m Martha. Forgive me for not shaking hands, I hate to disturb Jack Nimble.”

“Jack Nimble is the cat,” Max said, pointing for good measure.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “Um, you and Jack Nimble.”

I could see from Martha’s face that my recognition of the cat as a person had scored me a point. “Max lives with me. Although I’m afraid I can’t tell you my last name, or
where
we live.”

“No, of course,” I said.

But Max shook his head. “We can trust Verity.”

“Sure we can, but we talked about this, remember?” said Lydia. “The less people who know, the safer it is for everyone.” She turned to me and gestured at a plush armchair. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you a drink. You okay with wine?”

“More than okay.” I was driving, of course, but one glass to steady my nerves sounded like a fantastic idea. “Thank you.”

I sat, and found both Martha and Max looking at me expectantly. What did they want me to say? I tried to swallow, but my mouth felt dry.

In my mind I was fourteen again, and so was he. And I was the coward who allowed him to be abused, isolated, and kept in a closet, because I was afraid of a fever.

“How are you, Max?” I asked finally.

“I’m kind of hungry,” he said. “But that’s okay, Phineas and Wulf went to get some Indian food. That’s my new favorite.”

“Wulf is the dog,” Martha interjected.

“And Lydia made hand pies,” said Max. “Peach, which is also my favorite. You look really nervous. You’re not going to throw up the Indian food, are you?”

“Um. No.” I took a deep breath, and decided to just come out with it. “Max, I’m really sorry. For leaving you there, when we were kids. I tried to tell a teacher, but…”

“But Madeline punished you,” he said.

I nodded.

“That’s okay. She punished me all the time. I’m not sad she’s dead. I was really sad when Tilda died. But I don’t miss Madeline or Mark.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I finally settled on, “I’m sorry about Tilda.” At least maybe his grief for her meant one sister had been kind to him.

Max nodded and accepted a glass of milk from Lydia, who then handed me a glass of wine before settling into the remaining chair.

“Anyway, I should have kept trying, even though I was punished,” I said. “I gave up when I knew you needed help, and that was wrong.”

Max took a sip of his milk. “You couldn’t have stopped her no matter what, so I don’t know why you’re worried about it.”

They’d all tried to tell me, that day at the hotel, that Max wasn’t mad at me. And now here he was, making the truth of that obvious. But I still couldn’t quite believe it. I stared at him, wondering how he could be so casual about this burden I’d been carrying for so long. Heaven knew, it had been heavier for him.

Finally I smiled. “Thank you, Max.”

“Ah, here are my boys,” said Lydia, looking out the window. “Let’s go into the dining room.”

A few minutes later, we were all gathered at the table with enough Indian food to feed an army. Wulf—a bloodhound old enough to be going gray in the muzzle, but still young enough to beg enthusiastically for naan—settled next to my feet, apparently taking me for a sucker.

“Sorry for not cooking, but Max loves his takeout,” said Lydia.

“Yeah, I didn’t really think of that,” Phineas said to me. “I guess you could have used a home-cooked meal, living in a hotel.”

“I have a kitchenette,” I said. “Of course, I only use it to make mac and cheese.”

I looked at Max. I didn’t want to upset him, but then, if our last conversation hadn’t managed that, I supposed this wouldn’t either. And I might as well get it all out of the way. “Speaking of the hotel, I want to talk to you about that too, Max. And your sister’s money.”

“What about it?”

“Well, she gave it all to me. But it belonged to your parents first, before Madeline got it. I’d give it all back to you, if you asked me to.”

Max laughed, a strange, reedy sort of noise. Martha’s face lit up at the sound of it, in a way that made me think he didn’t laugh often, even now.

But he seemed healthy and happy, and maybe that was enough.

“Don’t worry about
that
,” Max said. “I don’t ever want to see the hotel again. And Martha says she has more money than we’re ever going to spend.”

I glanced at Martha, who nodded.

“Max, are you sure?” I asked.

He said something around a mouthful of dal that sounded like
ishur
.

“Verity, I understand your position,” Martha said. “You must feel like you’re taking advantage of him. But it’s only been a few months now since Max could even talk about the hotel without getting upset. He wants nothing to do with that place. Or with anything that belonged to his family.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up, then,” I murmured.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to make sure, and hear it straight from him,” Lydia said. “But I promise you, the best thing for Max is to keep him a secret from Bristol, and let him live in peace.”

“And let the Mount Phearson have its general,” I said with a sigh.

Lydia gave me a wide smile, clearly pleased that I remembered her advice. “Exactly.”

“In that case, I need to ask you guys some questions,” I said, looking from Lydia to Phineas and back again. “Maybe after?” I didn’t want to bring up any more of Bristol’s business in front of Max.