The Curse Defiers by Denise Grover Swank

Author:Denise Grover Swank [Denise Grover Swank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Paranormal Romance, Science Fiction Romance, Fantasy Romance, Ghosts
ISBN: 9781477825679
Google: 0OT-oAEACAAJ
Amazon: B00JXVSNDS
Barnesnoble: B00JXVSNDS
Goodreads: 22041019
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2014-09-29T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next morning I gasped in shock when I reached the door to Myra’s apartment.

There were marks on it.

Myra had never shown any interest in the markings I put on the doors to the inn each night other than concern for my safety. But the most perplexing part of it was that these marks weren’t the same ones I used. While they were primitive, they were mostly lines and circles. What were they, and why had she started using them?

I lifted my hand to knock, but Myra opened the door before my fisted hand could connect with the wood. A smile spread across her face. “Ellie, I’m so happy to see you.”

My palm burned when I crossed the threshold, but the sensation stopped as quickly as it had started. I turned around to check behind me. Myra’s apartment had an inside entrance, and the hall was completely bare.

“Is everything okay?” Myra asked with a worried tone.

“My mark tingled.”

“Do you think something’s out there?”

“No, doesn’t look like it.” I turned to face her. “It happened when I walked through the door. What are those marks?”

“Oh!” She grimaced and looked embarrassed. “I confess that once I got here, hundreds of miles from you, I got a little paranoid. Steven found a Native American shaman to come by and start marking my door.”

“These marks aren’t Croatan.”

“No, but I figured the gods and spirits this far inland were more likely to be associated with another tribe.” She shut the door and headed to the small kitchen that was separated from the tiny living room by a short bar.

“So are they Cherokee?”

Myra grabbed a pot of coffee and poured some into a mug. “I’m not sure. Steven called a Cherokee shaman, but he told me he blended in some other local tribal signs to be safe.”

Worry knotted my stomach. “Maybe I should mark your doors before I leave. Just to be sure. I heard about the missing Duke students.” That was the only reason I was here instead of with David after all we’d been through the previous night. In light of Allison’s death and the missing students, I had a possibly not-so-irrational fear that Myra was in danger. I needed to see her for myself. A phone call wasn’t good enough.

She shook her head, tsking. “Everyone on campus is quite upset about it, justifiably of course.” She poured creamer into my cup and handed it to me. “That’s why I decided to mark my door. Steven thinks I’m crazy.” She rolled her eyes with a grin. “In Manteo, we explained the marks on the doors as part of the colony experience, but here . . .” She looked up and chuckled. “I told him it was because I was homesick.”

“Good thinking.”

Myra grabbed a basket and moved past me to set it on the table. “While I’m grateful for your offer to re-mark my door, I think I should keep these ones. Yours will fade, but the shaman can come back and redo his work every week.

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