A cold feeling climbed my back like icy fingers leaving a trail over my skin. I only knew one thing for sure.
It was a bad omen.
Chapter 5
Morning sunshine slipped between the gap in the drapes and speared me across the face. I arched my back, stretching my sore muscles, and groaned. The mattress was horrid! It was a torture device disguised with feathers, although you couldn’t convince me the mattress contained feathers. Rocks, maybe, or even sticks.
Rolling onto my side, I came face-to-face with the crystal apple. Talk about torture devices… Except this one wasn’t physical; it was mental. The blood-red stone in the center caught a ray of light and cast a prism of tinted sparks against the wall.
I wracked my brain trying to decide who could have moved it from the drawer in the vanity. A servant, most likely, though I couldn’t imagine why they’d bother. It also could have been Andrew—he was late to dinner. But what would his motive be? I chewed on my lip. Isabelle might have gone into my room after fleeing from the salt incident, but then again, anyone could have slipped upstairs while Derrick and I were in the hallway.
It made no sense.
The apple glistened on the nightstand, mocking me with its beauty and possible dark intent. I had the sudden urge to smash it against the floorboards, but if it was cursed, I didn’t want to test my luck. I’d probably return later this evening and find two more in its place. One cursed apple, I could handle, but two? That was asking for trouble.
Besides, it could still be a family heirloom, and I was making a big deal out of nothing. Better to find a new hiding spot. I threw back the covers and hurried across the freezing floor, then stashed the apple in the dresser beneath a pile of folded clothes. With operation “hide the demon apple” finished, I dove back into bed, landing hard on the uncomfortable mattress.
“What the devil is in this thing?” I reached over the side and slipped my hand between the bed frame and the mattress.
My fingers grazed an odd object, and I retrieved it, then examined it in my palm. Small and round, it resembled a pea. But there was no way a pea could do that kind of damage.
Rubbing a particularly sore spot on my back, I snarled at the pea. “Are you cursed too? I bet you are.”
I collapsed against my pillow and stared at the ceiling. Enough about curses—I needed a plan for today. I had to figure out a way to turn things around. Normally, if someone didn’t like me, I shrugged it off.Your loss, and don’t come whining to me when you need an anti-aging potion.But this was Derrick’s mother. The stakes were higher.
I considered casting a spell on her, but that would be cheating, and once it wore off, she’d hate me even more. No. I was going to have to use my wits and natural charm—which could take a while.
Climbing out of bed, I stood in front of the full-length mirror. First, I practiced a curtsy, wobbling a bit at the knees. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Next, I practiced my serene face. Soft smile. Slow blink. The kind they taught at those expensive finishing schools. It was the expression I planned to use whenever Isabelle was complimented or praised for her multitude of talents.
Expert piano skills?
Serene face.
Mysterious ability to speak with woodland animals?
Serene face.
It was better to be prepared, and practice made the unlikelihood of my holding such a peaceful expression possible. Although, if she really could speak to animals, I was doomed. I’d find a porcupine under my covers for sure.
There was a soft knock, and I watched the door open in the mirror’s reflection. Derrick slipped inside, putting a finger to his lips as he gently closed the door behind him.
“Sneaking around on the third floor, Detective? You’ve really started living dangerously ever since we met.”
“That’s because you’re a bad influence. But don’t worry. If anyone comes this way, I’ll climb down the balcony.”
“Now that, I’d like to see.” I couldn’t hide my grin. He was freshly shaved, hair slicked back and still damp at the ends. A gray shirt covered his broad shoulders, unbuttoned at the top, and he’d rolled up the sleeves to his elbows.
“What’s in your hand?” he asked, pointing to the object I rolled between my fingers.
“Catch,” I said, tossing it to him.
He caught it one-handed and held it up to the light. “What is it?”
“I think it’s a pea. I found it under the mattress. It made the thing unbearable, and I hardly slept a wink. Where do you think it came from?”
“That would be Mae’s doing. She’s horribly superstitious. I bet she thinks it wards off evil spirits. Either way, I doubt you slept poorly because of the pea. It’s way too small. You wouldn’t have felt it.”
I made a face. “Fine. Put it under your mattress tonight, and then we’ll see.”
