The Devil's Own Read online

  She sipped and swallowed warm, flavorful apple tea, spiced with cinnamon and something stronger I suspected, watching me silently until she set her tea cup down and leaned back, her posture matching mine in apparent relaxation. Still, I kept my mouth shut. Hard lessons but I’m a quick learner when I need to be.

  Finally, she nodded and whispered to me. “The battle you’ve been fighting is wearing you down Girl. You’ve tried to do too much alone and you’re tired. Pieces of you are frayed and starting to wear.” She gestured at me, waving her thin hands from my windblown hair down to the tennis shoes I’d slipped on. I knew she wasn’t really referring to my exterior but seeing deeper. “It is time to accept the help that is given you. Strength that you need, that will help you to heal. It is time.” She returned to her tea, sipping it again until she’d drained the cup and then filled it again.

  I held my own warm cup in my hands, feeling the gold filigree bite into my skin just a bit. I waited, but she didn’t say anything else. This was a sign it was my turn.

  “You’re right, Miss Tilly. I thought I could do this all myself, but everything I’ve seen proves I’m wrong. There’s a bigger problem circling, and I haven’t been able to figure it out. It’s almost as if every time my mind is about to unravel things, it becomes foggy again and I lose the thread. I’m trying to protect everyone, and I can’t even figure out what the threat is that has me so worried.”

  She smiled sadly, pouring more tea into the cup I’d unconsciously emptied. “It is the badness. You are a smart one, Girl, and it knows this. It sends things to trick you and frighten, to make you question yourself and steal your strength. You must work your way back through this. The biggest trick will come from your past. A past you are ashamed of.”

  My hand froze on the way to my mouth, for just a moment. I tried to pass it off as nothing by taking a drink, but I knew she’d noticed. She leaned forward, her hands now gripping mine as I set the cup down, afraid of the shaking that had started in my fingers. I didn’t want to damage the heirloom china I was sure had been passed down to her. Her steel voice rang out, her hold on my hands unbreakable. “Shame is lies, Girl. Remember, for every saint in the world, there is a past they run from. For every sinner, there is a future they can run toward.” She dropped my hands then, patting them as they rested on the small tabletop. “I know you Girl. I see you as I always have. You live your life out there, trying to do no harm. Like all of us here. But when harm comes looking, then you must do what needs to be done. Without fear. Only strength.”

  Her gentle brown eyes never left mine, and I held my breath, wanting to know exactly what this harm would be. When her eyes started to fill with tears, she looked down, using a fabric napkin from the table to dab the water away, I forced myself to breathe again. “There are some things you will need. I have them ready for you.” She stood up and walked back to the shelves behind her display case, opening a drawer and pulling out a package already wrapped up in brown paper. “It is $25.50. Cash only please.”

  I felt weak, the shakes working their way through me before I could safely stand. I pulled thirty dollars out my purse, walked over to Miss Tilly and handed it over to her. She put it in the register and nodded to me. No change. I hadn’t really expected any. It was her way. I quietly thanked her and turned to go. As I reached the door and was about to pull it open to step back onto the street, I heard her say, “Next time, Girl. Bring your boys. They will need to meet me. As will the Hound.” I nodded back at her and continued out the door. The invitation had been given and I would make sure to do as I was told. As the door swung shut, I heard her say one final thing. “Call your mother, Girl. She needs to hear your voice.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Walking back toward my car, I recognized one of the men walking on the other side of Adair Street. I raised my hand in a brief wave, which he returned before pointing ahead of me to where I knew the diner sat on the opposite corner. The corner of his mouth quirked up for a moment, as if he wasn’t quite able to hide a smile and then he walked on, leaving me standing alone on a street that I realized was oddly empty for this time of day.

  I hurried across the street, my attention focused on the brightly painted door of the town’s most well-known restaurant. Everyone in the state had heard of Anita’s, the diner with the bright green door, where the food was homemade and the owner unafraid to offer her loud advice about exactly what might be bothering you in life. Hamburger buns fresh out of the oven, cinnamon rolls as big as the plate with frosting dripping down off the sides and freshly ground coffee brewing all day long. It was a welcoming place for people, the homey scents and laughter building a need to come back. Working its own magic.

  I shoved open the door without stopping, hearing the chimes above ring out as I stepped in. Everyone inside turned to look at me. There were far too many people crowded into a small space. Every stool at the counter was full, every table and booth taken. Some customers were even leaning against the wall where I came in. Anita, the owner herself, was standing at a booth in the back of the diner, hands on her broad hips, a sunflower apron around her waist. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, threads of gray running through the black in even lines. Not even her hair would defy her by daring to attempt an escape.

  Seeing me, she gestured quickly, narrowed eyes telling me to hurry it up. I lengthened my stride as much as I could, but it felt like I walked past staring eyes and whispers forever before I made it to her side. As I stepped up beside Anita, Callum came into view, his head resting back against the booth, a content look on his face and his hands resting on his belly. Across from him, seated on the booth, with his head resting on the table edge, was Moose in his cute terrier form. His eyes were closed and as I stood there, a satisfied sigh escaped him. There were the remnants of what looked like apple pie strewn across the tabletop.

  “Oh Anita,” I gasped out, trying very hard not to laugh. “I’m so sorry. Did they eat a whole pie?”

  “Two. Two whole pies!” she barked out. “And how that dog was able to sneak in here, I’d like to know. Everybody swears it was just this one, sitting here ordering pie, until I walk out to help some other customers and find this mutt with his head on my table.”

  Hearing himself called a mutt, Moose opened one eye to look at the angry woman next to me, before closing it and sighing again. He was clearly so happy and full of deliciousness that he couldn’t even be offended. When I’d mentioned that Anita’s pies were good, I’d never dreamed this would be the situation I’d find.

  Cal chose that second to intervene, stretching his arms up over his head like he was just waking up. “Ma’am, let me just tell you how amazing that pie is. Delaney told me that you made the best pies she’d ever tasted, but I couldn’t imagine the exquisite delight waiting behind your green door. Truly, delicious. And the homemade ice cream I had to go with it was the perfect complement.” Then he grabbed Anita’s hand and shook it. “I apologize for my companion, but knowing his love of apples, I couldn’t keep this from him.”

  Anita was frozen, her eyes taking in Cal’s sincere expression, and what I’m sure she found to be a very handsome face. I held my breath and it sounded like everyone behind me did as well. Finally, she slid her hand out of his, turning to me and whispering in a flustered tone, “Next time, they can take it outside if the dog wants to eat pie.” She dashed back into the kitchen, giggles starting up among the customers that had gathered to see the fireworks.

  Cal watched me, laughter dancing across his face, and I grinned at him. “I leave you alone for a few minutes and you manage to find a way to piss off the best cook in this entire town. She probably wants to ban me from this place.”

  “Guess it’s a good thing I’m so charming then,” he threw back at me.

  “Yeah. Must be all those romance novels you’ve been reading.”

  He flashed a smile at me. “Newton told me studying those would help me acclimate to this world faster. That I would understand pe
ople better and learn how to talk with them.”

  I snorted. “People? Or women?” I set cash on top of the bill Anita had left for the pie. No one would steal it. Not in Hazelwood.

  “Now Delaney,” he chided me, sliding his long legs out of the booth and following as I led the way out of the diner and to my car, “women are people too, you know.”

  I shook my head, knowing that anything I could possibly say would only encourage him. Instead, we headed for home, the radio blasting some Angus Murphy and The Law. We couldn’t help but laugh as Moose tried to howl along at the chorus. Terribly.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When we got home, Cal and Moose busied themselves with patrolling the property and making sure the wards they’d set earlier were holding. At Cal’s suggestion, we’d added additional protection wards along the fence line and around the garage. They weren’t as strong as the ones directly around the house, but they offered us some additional security. They had lot of ground to cover, but the night was cool and pleasant. I think they both needed time to stretch their legs and work together on this. I went inside alone, taking advantage of the quiet to call my mother.

  As the phone rang on the other end, I wondered about the things Miss Tilly had said. She took the security of Hazelwood seriously and if she was worried about evil coming this way, then it promised to be bad. I was biting my lip when I heard the click as the call was picked up.

  “Hello?” came my mother’s voice on the line.

  I swallowed against a sudden lump in my throat. Careful to keep my magic locked away, I said, “Hey Mom. How are you?”

  “Delaney, oh wow, I’ve been hoping to hear from you. Don’t worry about me. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Keeping up with everything as best I can.”

  “You’re doing a great job with the foundation. Things are so much more organized with you handling stuff.” I heard a smile in her voice when she said that. She’d never enjoyed being the one in charge of everything, but she’d done it. This was a way to make things better for others and she loved to volunteer her time at events but managing the day-to-day work had never been her dream.

  “How are the horses?” I asked.

  “Oh, Junior is fine. He nicked himself on the leg the other day and it keeps trying to get infected, so we’ve been watching it. But other than that, he’s his same sassy self. Bella still loves bossing everyone around. I saw her nudging one of the new stable hands when he was trying to do some work. I don’t think she felt he was doing it quite right.”

  I settled into the couch, leaning back against the pillows and letting my mother’s warm words wash over me. It reminded me of the home I’d used to have, how we’d worked in the stable together and mucked out the stalls. I could almost hear the whicker of the horses as they talked back and forth, dust and bits of straw floating in the air. It was hard, dirty work but I missed it anyway.

  “Are you okay, Honey?” I heard her ask, jolting me out of my thoughts. “You’re awful quiet.”

  “I’m fine Mom. Just feeling a little nostalgic right now. Missing you and the horses.”

  “You can come back anytime, you know. This is your home.”

  I took a deep breath, wishing I could give in to the little girl part of me that wanted to do exactly that. Run home and let Mommy take care of everything.

  “I can’t Mom, you know that. Me being there puts you at risk and I’m not willing to do that. Besides, Dad’s sent me some guests for right now, so I’ve got to play the good hostess to them. Keep them out of trouble and all that.” I tried to keep my response light, hoping that a little humor would take away some of the sting from my refusal to come home.

  She sighed into the phone. I could picture her on the other end, one arm wrapped around her middle, a solo hug for comfort, teeth chewing on her bottom lip. It was how she’d always looked when she’d been missing someone. Missing my father.

  “So,” she said haltingly. “How’s your Dad? Is he okay?”

  I thought quickly, knowing Angus wouldn’t want me to tell her the absolute truth. “Yeah, he’s fine. Missing you, wishing he could be there, knowing he can’t. Same as always.”

  She was quiet on the other end. Then, “Will you tell him something for me?”

  “Of course, Mom.”

  “Tell him I,” she paused for a second. “Just tell him none of this is his fault. He never wanted to listen to me when I tried to say that to him before, but it’s the truth. He blames himself for me being sick and losing your brother, but none of us knew exactly what was happening.” My eyes teared up as I listened to her, feeling how alone she was there without us. She caught her breath. “I wish he could forgive himself.”

  I nodded, then realized how silly that was. She couldn’t see me, but I couldn’t think of any words to say into the silence between us. We finally just whispered our love to each other and ended the call. I sat on the couch for a few minutes more, letting the quiet dark settle comfortably around me.

  When I heard the long low bark from Moose signaling he and Cal were home again, I wiped away the tears on my face. I opened the door, Moose shooting by me to take a long drink from his water dish. Callum was breathing hard, but he pulled me gently out of the kitchen.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did something happen while we were gone?”

  I wrapped my arms around my middle. “It’s fine. I talked to my mom. Never an easy conversation. Things are complicated.”

  “Ah, yes.” He didn’t sound surprised, which made me curious.

  “Have you met my mother?”

  “No, I haven’t. But your father loved to talk about his time with her. I feel like I know her. At least a little bit.”

  I wanted to ask him for details, find out what stories Angus had shared with him. But I didn’t. I was emotional enough already. Instead, I chose to go upstairs to my room, where I could miss my family without anyone watching me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Living alone, routine had been my friend. A comfort. Wake up, work, train, eat something. Then back to bed. Wake up the next day and do it all over again. And again. Until the days ran into weeks and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone face to face.

  Now, my comfortable routine had been upended and I was fighting the urge to scream. It was starting to feel like the only time I could manage to be alone was when I excused myself to go to the bathroom or take a shower. And if that took too long, Moose was pawing at the door, anxious for me to finish up and join the world again.

  Then there was Cal. He was taking up too much space. That’s the only way I could describe it. It wasn’t him, but his presence. How he insisted on making me food, sitting down with me to eat, sparring when I needed a tough workout. He was carving out a place in the life I’d built. A life that didn’t have room in it for other people.

  As the days wore on and the badness Miss Tilly had predicted never showed up at the door, the hold I had on my feelings slipped. I began snapping at things more and more often. Dumb things, really; a pan left out or a piece of dog food crunching under my feet. They were reminders that my home wasn’t just my home anymore. Which scared me. Because routine is a distraction too. You don’t realize how lonely you are until someone forces companionship into your life, which makes you realize you don’t want to be lonely again. Even though it’s inevitable, and eventually you’ll have to say goodbye to someone who laughed at your jokes and didn’t care if you turned the music up when you needed to drown out the world. The moment when you look down and acknowledge the warm lump of canine covering your feet on a cold night can’t stay forever.

  Instead of talking about it, I threw myself into anything that kept me busy. And if it kept Moose and Cal at a distance, that worked too. I’d thought I was managing pretty well. Until the day Cal interrupted my knife practice.

  “Okay,” Cal said. “That one was a little too close.”

  “Well, it just proves you should be
more careful about surprising me when I’m working on my knife throwing.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should throw it at my head.”

  “And you shouldn’t sneak up on me.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking. I called your name three times.”

  I stomped away from him, yanking my knives from where I’d embedded them in the target. It also gave me a chance to avoid his eyes. “Didn’t hear you.”

  “That’s a lie,” he shot back.

  “No, it’s not.” I fished around for something. “You’re stealthy. And I was focused on what I was doing.”

  He didn’t respond to that and when I turned around to face him, I wasn’t happy to see him leaning against the back wall, silently laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I tried to hide my need to fidget by spinning the knives through my fingers, working on my balance and control.

  Now his laughter rolled out. “This is what’s funny. It’s like we’re having our first fight.”

  “No, we’re not.” I ground the words out, my jaw clenched.

  “Yes, we are. I don’t know why, but we’re definitely having our first fight.”

  “A fight would indicate we’re a couple. Which we are not. We’re a group. A group stuck living together in a house.”

  “And there it is. Finally, you’re admitting what this is all about.”

  I shook my head, shouldering past him in an attempt to end the conversation. He grabbed my wrist, lightly, but it was enough to stop me.

  “You know you shouldn’t touch me.” I pulled my hand away from him. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, Cal.”

  “I think you need to. Something’s bothering you and my guess is it has a lot to do with the fact that Angus dumped us on you. You’re feeling encroached upon and trying to reassert yourself.”

  I tried to argue with that but couldn’t come up with anything in response. I slumped down to the floor, letting my head bump against the basement wall. “How did you come up with that?”