Maybe I shouldn’t have expected a warm reception, but I still expected something, and something is exactly what I got. Up until now, Gran might have said that things which were too good to be true, usually were. And Although Alistair was attempting to make my transition to this side as painless as possible, this was like getting my wisdom teeth removed. For the first thirty seconds, you could hear a pin drop, all the while his pet boar snorted and snotted.
“Is it me, or is something off kilter?” Gran asked.
The crowd turned their backs on us, then dispersed without a word.
I didn’t think that was the normal way for a meeting to be dismissed, in fact, I found it profoundly rude.
“Excuse them,” said the man to Alistair’s left. He stretched out his hand. “It’s going to take time for everyone to adjust to your being here. I’m Killian.” He was a handsome man in a wilderness sort of way—like he’d just had a dashing run in the mountains, running with wolves.
“It’s an adjustment for all.” I took his hand, and gasped, then morphed into a wolf.
22
Alistair
With the meeting ended, Alistair returned to his chamber to think.
Responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders. He paced. Just as the prophecy declared, as the seer, she operated almost like a sponge, able to mimic the talents of anyone she touched.
He picked up the dog-eared novel and began again to read the tale of Ewan, the Viking. It wasn’t enough that Ewan couldn’t be with his people in Norway, but now had to set up a homestead in the hostile territory of the Highlands. He flipped through the pages, choosing the romance novel over that of his current situation.
Ewan reminded him of who he used to be, before he’d taken the call. How he’d slaughtered in the name of the gods; the million reasons he’d embraced becoming the dragon he’d always been.
His chamber door flew open, and Rose stomped in. “You didn’t listen to anything I said, Alistair,” Rose said. “What you witnessed here tonight is an anomaly. Dangerous. You know what a seer of such powers will do.”
Alistair cleared his throat, set the book aside, and shook his head. “Rose, I expect your next report forthwith as to any news regarding this crime. You’re dismissed.”
He ignored her accusations. There was too much riding on this for him not to act.
“You know you could always send her away? Or to another Order, but if she is indeed slaughtering humans, there will be nowhere that you can send her. In effect, you might have just signed your own death sentence.” Rose gave him a slight bow, then left him to consider the options as to what could be transpiring.
Alistair essentially assumed the same. But was the risk of being stuck here worth it? What Freyja wanted she usually got, and although he couldn't see the other side of the equation, he knew she must be up to something.
A knock on his door distracted him, for there Leslie stood, bundled up from head to toe.
“I thought you were heading to bed, Ms. Love?”
She smiled. “I would have done the same, but I had one question before I could sleep.”
“Yes?” He didn't want to answer any questions. He'd saved her from drowning and certain death, shouldn't that have been enough? “But I cannot guarantee that I will answer.”
She nodded. “That’s fair enough.” She cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and then paused.” “I don't know how to begin this.”
He moved his energy outward and prodded until her body began to relax, watching as her muscles eased, and her jaw unclenched.
“Is that better?”
“No,” she said and shook her head. “I have a request. Please, stay out of my mind. I’d rather you not read my thoughts.”
“Are you sure?” In all of his years, he'd never had a woman complain. Most wanted him to know what they desired before they could utter a word, as if he were a magical genie, and they were to be rewarded for thinking it.
He smiled in return. “I will respect your wishes. But I must also make a request. Since I know that you are Ms. Love, I have a proposition for you.”
“Uh-oh,” she said, catching herself. He watched her cover her mouth with her hands.
“Not one of those, but my dear servant girl, Rose, is a great fan of your work, and since you write stories of the Highlands, I insist that you make use of your time here and do the research you need to create your next tale.”
“Wait. What? You want me to write a book while staying here. A book takes more than a couple of days.”
“Yes, I'm sure it does. But here, you can soak in all of that Highland magic and it will spark your creativity. You wouldn't want to disappoint your fans by not having the next book finished, right?”
He watched her emotions play across her face—she seemed to war against herself, but he refused to look closer. Whatever she had to say, from now on, she must say it to him and not simply think it.
“How long can I stay?”
“You are an American and have ninety days. No problem without a visa. What could be better?” Alistair knew that none of that mattered in his castle, but he needed to give her something to do, something she enjoyed.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. My estate, my home, staff and I, are at your service to help you in any way possible, to maybe even inspire your muse.” He took a step forward to close the space between them.
He didn't know why—why she beckoned him—called to him, but right now, he had no desire to see her walk away. Although he wanted to be alone, and feared that something might transpire, he was a god and would protect her as only a man could.
He leaned in closer, and she walked backwards until the wall was at her back. He stood toe-to-toe with her. “So, what is your answer, dear lass?”
23
Leslie
There could be something good about remaining here. I’d tossed and turned all morning considering my options, and Gran hadn’t been any help with her constant prodding. That woman was going to be the death of me, but of course, I was already dead.
Unable to take the constant racing of my thoughts, I bundled up and marched toward what could either be my destiny or my doom. Before I could even raise my hand to knock on the door, Alistair walked out and looked me in the eye.
“Good that you are here. I was just about to send for you. We need to sit and have a chat.”
I nodded, thinking we could discuss my options during our meeting.
When he’d asked for a private audience, I’d thought it might be an introductory lesson: How to be a supernatural? Nope. He might as well have been sitting in his overly stuffed office chair, brooding, while swinging a pair of handcuffs. He gave me every impression that a supernatural jail awaited.
I shook my hands, hoping that such a simple motion might cause them to stop tingling. I paced.
“If you keep pacing like that, you are going to wear a hole in my carpet,” Alistair finally said.
“This is why I left college behind years ago. This “oh, look what she said, did, didn’t do, but we have to blame someone” crapola.”
“Calm down. You’re walking so fast that you’re beginning to blur,” he said.
“I guess it must be that super speed,” I guffawed.
I wanted him to enclose me in his arms, but instead it was like he was shoving thorns under my fingernails.
“If you want to accuse me of something, then I want you to take me there.”
He shook his head before I could even get my question out. He slumped back in his chair. “Your blood lust is too great at this time. I can’t let you outside these warded walls, for if you leave, I can’t guarantee what you might do, or attack.”
He couldn’t know that I had the inner strength and perseverance of a river, and right now, he was my rock. One way or another, I was going to find out the truth, and neither he nor his cronies were going to make it otherwise.
“And who is this person that I was supposed to have
killed? I might not be able to leave, but I can do a Google search,” I told him.
“Google?”
“Oh my gosh, how are you living without Wi-Fi? I need to bring you up to date, just like you need to make sure that I can acclimate to this new world for however long I’m here.”
He must have been holding on to the past with an iron fist, but he didn’t know that satellites were taking pictures from above, that everything was only a mouse click away, and especially that life was more than just this archaic Order.
“You might find my life here different, but it is this way for a reason. Those things are purposely outside of these walls, and I hope you will respect that.”
It certainly explained why I’d yet to find a phone in the castle to make a call. Note to self: get a cell phone.
“I don’t even know anyone here, and now I’m supposed to have tracked someone down, followed them home, and drained them dry? And of course, I carry my books with me everywhere I go. I’m sure if you give me a moment I can make a paperback appear from thin air.”
I couldn’t help the sarcasm in my voice. This felt like high school. Let’s get the new girl ousted before she’s able to snag the cool football player. Okay, the only analogy is that he wasn’t cool, and this wasn’t high school, but even worse than that, this was supposed to be a sanctuary. It seemed somewhat spoiled now.
“Her name was Bridget McCullough, age twenty-two. She lived in the village, and was preparing to enter the local university in the coming semester. She’d come here from Edinburgh.”
“That’s a good beginning. Now, take my hand and lead me to the scene.”
He shook his head. “Your anger does not negate what you could have done. I must investigate all angles, even the most unlikely ones. Just because you show no signs of recognition, doesn’t mean that you didn’t indeed do something quite horrible.”
I sighed. My hands were shaking, my canines began to descend. My vision began to cloud. “I have to get out of here.”
“I don’t think that is a good idea. Your life has changed, and there is a high likelihood that should you leave and walk in the daylight that you will burn. Vampires are creatures of the night after all.
For one, I didn’t care what he thought. His words were not going to hold me back from learning truth. The only thing I had to do was keep the blood lust in check, and find out where this Bridget lived.
“Well, it seems that no one really likes to think around here, just assume.” I rushed past him, through the door to find Gran waiting.
“It took you long enough. I thought I was going to have to start to prepare your funeral,” she said.
“Me too. What did you find out from talking to the others?” I didn’t want to worry her with what Alistair had said. He’d do anything to keep me here, even if it wasn’t where I wanted to be.
“No one really wanted to talk to me, but I do have a way of making people respond. So, I swiped a phone. I see you using this all the time, and the groundskeeper had his just lying around. Maybe you can find what you need through a simple punching of keys.”
I shrugged. “I wish it was that easy, but …”
“If not, I might have another way.” She then pulled out a raven’s feather.
“What’s that?”
“I overheard Kenneth who was talking to Sam and Della about someone they are calling the seer. Well, the seer is different than a normal supernatural and able to do different things. So, since we are new here, and I can’t do anything, I thought it must be you. I need you to do the ritual with the henbane. Utter your prayer chant while holding this and let’s see if you can shift into your spirit animal.”
I knew in Norse mythology there was a possibility that people had a totem animal, or what others called a fylgja.
“I guess I need to get to the garden downstairs and see what they might have.”
“No need, I was hoping you’d say yes.” Then she produced a pouch of henbane.”
Clutching the feather and lighting the henbane, I waited.
“You need to focus on that raven,” Gran said.
I didn’t feel like I could connect with this ceremony—I was different. Everything felt wrong, as if I tried to free myself from invisible tangles, and webs.
“If you don’t find out the truth, Leslie, they are going to try to pin this murder on you. You know what they say: the dead can’t speak.”
A thought formed. “But what if they could? Come, concentrate your energy with my own, and let’s see what we can make happen together. Maybe we can find Bridget.”
I closed my eyes, concentrated on my breathing, and the feel of the black feather in my hand. I’d been searching for Bridget, but I never expected that when I opened my mouth only a caw would come out.
“You did it,” Gran screeched. “You found your spirit animal.”
I bowed my head and saw spinney black feet and black feathers. My feathers puffed out in fear.
“There is no need to be afraid,” she said. I chirped as she yanked a feather from my wing.
She walked to the window and pulled back the drawn curtains. Luckily it was still night time, but dawn would be here soon. I hopped on the ledge, then Gran lifted me up and tossed me out the opened window as if I were a part of a dove release at wedding. “Now, go find the truth.”
Flying wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. After a pair of false starts and hitting a tree, I learned how to use my wings; it was like soaring with helium.
After what felt like hours, I finally located the address provided from the internet. From the outside, the house seemed normal, but once inside, I felt the evil that lurked there. Although I wasn’t sure if it were possible, I concentrated on my shape and again, transformed in a cloud of henbane back to my human form.
I’d read enough police procedurals to be dangerous. But I had a talent the police didn’t.
“Bridget,” I called out. I don’t know what I expected to happen. Maybe a chair sliding across the room, or maybe the air would shimmer, and she’d appear.
Yeah, that would have been too simple.
Instead, the sigil appeared, and began to glow with bright purple light shooting up from the middle. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my body began to seize and quake in midair. This was magic, a strong magic that had entered this room.
Colors began to splash all around me, and out walked Bridget.
“You’ve come to speak with me?” she asked.
I couldn’t move, stuck in the light of the sigil.
“You shouldn’t have. You’ve placed yourself in great danger.”
“I already am,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Then the truth I shall show you. Every ghost has a piece of what happened, but can only see from their perspective.” She reached out and touched me, and the scene in my mind went from technicolor to black and white. The scenes bled into each other, from her simply preparing a cup of tea, to a figure she couldn’t see grabbing her from behind. The smell of wheat wafted from his skin, mixed with a musty or earthy smell.
“Bridget, did you know him?”
“No, I’d only lived here for a couple of weeks.” Her face dropped its ethereal glow and was replaced with extreme sadness. It wrapped around me like a blanket, and held me down despite my struggle. Her emotions caused my own eyes to well.
“Where did you live before?” I struggled to ask.
“On the property adjacent to the castle.”
“That castle?” Scotland had tons of castles. What was the likelihood that she was a tenant on Alistair’s lands?
“Yes. I’d wanted to stay, but strange things began to happen and I knew that it was better for me to leave than to waste my time there. I guess I was wrong.”
Her final words faded, and I dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. She wasn’t a stranger to the castle, but had connections to it. Connections that existed long before I had arrived. Although my book might be the calling card, this wasn’t about me,
but about someone else at the castle for sure.
24
Leslie
I couldn’t quite get the bird transformation thing to work in order to make it back to the castle.
The village wasn't that far away from it, though, but wow, talk about the heebee jeebies. I could feel someone watching me. Goosebumps. Maybe it was because I was a stranger here, although the roads were mostly empty, besides an occasional car—no one meandered around—it seemed that the town was indeed deserted.
The sun was rising, and the higher it got, the more tired I became. Where it landed, it then caused my skin to burn.
Crapola, I’d forgotten sunblock. I pulled my collar up to protect my neck, and walked looking downward, peering through the spaces in between my curls.
“Don’t burst into flames. Don’t burst into flames.”
Over the years I’d watched many vampire movies, and that’s what I knew to be true. They were creatures of the night. What in the name of the gods gave me the idea to go and stay out while the sun was shining?
Needing a reprieve, I ducked into the telephone booth—I’d never been so happy to see a big red box.
There was only one number I knew: Claudine's. She'd know who to inform.
The phone rang three times before she picked up with her thick morning voice.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Claudine, it's me, Leslie.”
“Why are you calling me? Better yet, where are you? Your schedule must have you super busy. I haven’t seen you in a few days… You were supposed to have that breakfast this morning. You know, Maurice is never going to take you back with you ditching paying customers.”
“Well, Maurice can shove it since someone threw me over the rail the other night.”
“Very funny.”
“But I'm telling you the truth. I could swear Donovan did this. He didn't like that I wasn't into him.”
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