“Hey,” she managed. “Haven’t seen you in awhile.”
He gave her a small smile and raked a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She shrugged in an effort to be cool and turned to walk down to the other end of the porch.
He reached out, looping his fingers around her wrist. “Wait,” he said. “Please? I need to talk to you.”
She watched him, waiting, feeling nervous, excited and scared all at the same time.
“It’s about what happened the other night.” He dropped her wrist, letting his hand fall to his side. “I want you to know I didn’t take you to the cave so that would happen. I just wanted to show you how pretty it was; I wanted you to be able to enjoy the water.”
His hair blew in the wind, caressing his forehead and cheekbones. Reaching out, his arms shook as he stroked her shoulder with one finger and sent a chill up her spine. “I just got carried away. And now, I…now everything is confusing. ”
She stared at him, unable to speak or move.
He brought his hand to her face, rubbing his thumb across her cheek as he spoke. “I can’t get you out of my head, and I know there’s a ton of reasons why we shouldn’t be together…but I just can’t fight this anymore.”
A shiver ran down her spine as his fingertip grazed her bottom lip. She finally managed to break her gaze away from his piercing eyes, but he tipped her chin up and stepped closer to her. “Tell me you don’t feel the same,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want me and it’ll never happen again.”
But when he gazed at her like she was spectacular, she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to say. She wanted to kiss him again, but wondered why he felt so conflicted about the idea. If she asked him, he would pull away and leave her yearning again. “I want you.”
Chapter Twelve
Immortal Enemies
Mykaela wandered into the kitchen and inhaled the scent of dinner cooking. Her stomach lurched at the thought of food, but it smelled delightful. Blanche was at the sink, washing fresh ears of corn.
Mykaela pulled the lid off a pot and found boiling potatoes inside. The skillet held pork chops, seasoned with salt and a dash of Italian herbs, her mother’s secret ingredient. Glancing at the table, she noticed an extra place setting.
“Is someone coming over for dinner?”
“Yep,” Blanche said. She brought the shucked corn over to the stove and dropped it in a pot of boiling water. “Jared’s having his girlfriend over.”
She laughed in surprise. “Jared has a girlfriend? As in, he’s been on more than one date with the same girl?”
“Correct.” Smiling, Blanche poked fork into the potatoes to see if they were done. “He’s totally smitten.”
“He must be, if he’s bringing her to dinner.”
“It’s about time.” Blanche pulled open the stove and checked on the pie baking inside. “I want grandchildren.”
She chuckled. “He’s only twenty-one, Mom.”
“That’s the way around here, dear. You get married, settle down and have kids.” Shutting the oven, she wiped her hands on her apron. “Don’t get any bright ideas, Mykaela Jane, I expect the same from you. Although, you should wait until you’re twenty-five. At least.”
“That’s a double standard. But, no worries. I’m not in a rush to settle down or have kids.”
“Good for you.” She eyed the table. “They should be here any minute. Will you help me set the food out?”
“Of course.” Together, they set the glass serving trays of food in the center of the table, arranged to make the food look even more appealing.
Dylan walked into the kitchen. “The food smells great, Mrs. Whindom.”
“Thank you, Dylan.” She beamed. “I hope you can join us. Jared’s bringing his girlfriend over.”
“Thank you.” He dug a hand into his pocket and glanced at Mykaela. “I’d like that.”
“I like you, Dylan,” Blanche said suddenly, as she often did when a thought crossed her mind. “You work hard and keep to yourself. I respect that in a man. My John was the same way.”
“He was a good man?” Mykaela wasn’t sure if it was a question, but Blanche responded as if it were. “The best. At least, as close as I ever saw.”
“You were fortunate.” Dylan took the glass bowl filled with corn on the cob and set it on the table without being asked. “Every woman deserves a good man.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Blanche smiled at him, then glanced out the kitchen window as headlights flashed over the room. “They’re here.”
Mykaela took the pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator. As the door opened, she glanced behind her to see Jared’s visitor.
The pitcher fell from her hands and Dylan lunged forward at the speed of light, grabbing it without spilling a drop.
Mykaela glanced at him, impressed and thankful, before turning to see Jared again. He stood with Morrigan, the nosey reporter who’d made implications about her father.
Wearing a slinky black dress that made her pale skin look elegant, their guest handed a vase of white roses out to Blanche.
Dylan set the pitcher on the table, then raised his head to look at Jared and Morrigan.
He stumbled, grabbing Mykaela’s shoulder for support. Stunned at his sudden lack of coordination, she glanced up at him curiously. His eyes darted around the room, landing on the door.
“I just remembered,” he whispered to her. “There’s something I have to do.”
“No way,” Mykaela whispered back. Noting that Morrigan was keeping Blanche occupied, she pulled Dylan inside the guest dining room. “You can’t leave me here alone with her. She’s the reporter I told you about.”
“She is?”
“Yes. The one I stole the folder from. She thinks Dad is a serial killer. You have to stay.” She batted her eyelashes and clasped her hands together prayer-style. “Please, please, please with a peach on top?”
His face brightened as he reluctantly laughed at her. “How can I say no to that?”
She smiled in triumph. “Please don’t.”
He heaved a sigh and stared at the door. “Okay, okay. You’ve won me over. Let’s get inside before someone notices.” He pushed the door and held it open as she walked through.
“Sorry about that,” Mykaela said as they entered the kitchen. “There was a guest...”
“Who needed a towel,” Dylan finished for her.
Jared lifted a brow as he sat down at the table. “And it took both of you?”
Ignoring him, Mykaela took her seat. “Morrigan, it’s good to see you again.”
The corners of Morrigan’s red-painted lips curled upward in a grin as she met Mykaela’s eyes across the table. “The pleasure’s mine.”
***
That night, when he was sure everyone was asleep, Dylan walked to the bluff. It was the only sure way he knew to contact her. Staring out at the waters, he closed his eyes in concentration. Since he’d been on land, his powers had weakened. It would take most of his strength to summon her.
“Morgaine,” he called out. His voice echoed off the surrounding mountains and bounced back at him from every direction.
Above him, leaves rustled and silver storm clouds rolled in. The air chilled, even to his cold skin. He knew she was close, that she was warning him. He wouldn’t be intimidated.
“Show yourself.”
The wind howled and thunder rumbled. Below him, the water spun in a whirlpool. The whirlpool rose, up, up, up to the edge of the cliff. He stepped back and watched the water splash onto the grassy knoll. When the water cleared, she stood, completely dry, still wearing the black dress from dinner.
Tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, she grinned at him. “It’s Morrigan now, or haven’t you heard?”
“Different name. Same conniving little sea witch.”
She puckered her cherry-red lips in a pout as she took one slow, calculated step toward him. “That hurts, darling. We used t
o be so close.”
“Used to be. Keywords.” He fought the urge to move as she came closer to him. If he budged an inch, she would see it as weakness and be amused. “What are you doing here, Morgaine?”
She feigned a swoon and fanned her face with her hand. “I just love the way you say my name.”
“What did you do to Jared?”
She cocked her head, as if disappointed. “You know what I did to Jared.” She giggled. “Humans are so easy. Sing a little song over some seashells and they’re captivated.”
“I remember,” he said, his shoulders straightening. “So, you’re you the one doing this?”
Standing directly in front of him now, she walked her fingertips up his stomach to his chest. “What are you talking about, dearest?”
“The murders you’re supposedly investigating. You’re killing girls.”
“Oh, you mean my gifts. Did you like them? You should. I handpicked them just for you.” She moved her lips to his ear. “I know how much you love teenagers.”
He gripped his hand into a fist at his side. “This isn’t funny.”
She sighed and circled him. “I’m upset with you, Dylan. You’re just not the killer I’d hoped you’d be.”
When she glanced away, he reached behind and gripped the handle of the knife he kept tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “I’m glad I could be a disappointment to you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He pulled the knife out, clutching it in his fist “What are the chances you’ll leave peacefully?”
“Hm.” She thought for a minute, tilting her head from side to side. “No chance.”
“That’s what I thought.” He brought the knife to his side, ready to slam it into her back.
She stopped and whipped around to face him, laughing menacingly. She looked at the knife, and pouted her lips again. “Dylan, you’re not very nice.” With the motion of one finger, she sent the knife soaring out of his grasp. “You should be careful with that. You’ll hurt yourself.”
He stared at his empty hand in surprise and took a step back.
“See, darling—maybe you’ve forgotten.” She walked toward him again. “I gain something from the souls I take. Power. Lots of it.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’ll never be able to stop me.”
“You’ve underestimated me before.”
Her lips curved upward in a grin. “So the fire is still there. I was wondering if Mykaela had completely domesticated you.”
“Leave her out of this.”
“She doesn’t know, does she?” With her slimy, cold finger, she traced a line up the nape of his neck. “She hasn’t noticed you don’t have a shadow? Or a reflection? Or that you don’t breathe and plants die around you? She must truly be blind.” She searched his face. “Did you really think you could fit into this world? Dylan, you don’t have a soul. How could you possibly belong?”
He grabbed her wrists and shoved her back a couple of feet.
She cackled. “Oh, did I hit a nerve? You like her—a lot.” She peered into his eyes, and he could feel her probe his thoughts. He didn’t have the power to stop her. “As much as you liked me.”
“More.”
She took a step back and raised her chin in the air. “Is that so?” Laughing, she clasped her hands behind her back and walked a circle around him again. “Well, I know what you did for me. I wonder how far you’ll go for her.”
“Morgaine, just leave.” He stayed firm although she glared at him. “You’re the one who left me, remember? What are you doing here?”
“I’m having a little fun, my dearest.” She stopped and turned to face him. “Just because I left you doesn’t mean you can go get it on with a human.”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Honey, that hurts.”
“You’d have to have a heart for it to hurt.”
She smiled at that. “Oh, I’ve got one. Cold as the sea, but it’s there.”
“Why are you here?” He balled his hands into fists. “I haven’t seen you in a hundred years, and I’m supposed to believe you’re here for kicks?”
She shrugged her delicate shoulders. “What can I say? I like a good time.” She covered her mouth as she gave an exaggerated yawn. “This conversation has grown boring, Dylan. I need my beauty sleep.” She walked to the edge of the cliff, then turned. “Oh, just so you know, there are a few Hunters in this town. I’d hate to think what would happen if they found out about you and I disappeared.” She winked at him. “Catch you later.”
She brought her arms above her head and dove into the water.
He kicked at the dirt, sending a hunk of earth flying after her. Then he kicked again, and again, until he stood in a hole up to his ankles. He wanted to scream at the top of his unbreathing lungs. He wanted to rip her limb from limb.
Chapter Thirteen
Discovered
Blanche turned to Mykaela as they prepared breakfast. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Dylan lately.”
Mykaela kept her attention focused on transferring the biscuits from the pan to a basket. “Is that a problem?”
Blanche shrugged. “That depends.” She spun a whisk around a bowl, mercilessly beating a mixture of eggs and milk, but her gaze was fixed on Mykaela. “How serious is it?”
Mykaela laughed, feeling embarrassed and wanting the conversation to be over. “He’s a friend, Mom, that’s all.”
“But, you like him.”
It sounded like a question, but felt more like an accusation. “You know—there’s just been so much going on.” She turned and set the biscuits on the table, then reached for the jelly. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”
“He’s older than you—that concerns me a little bit.”
“Mom, don’t. Okay? We’re just friends.”
“If that’s the case, why are your cheeks so red?” Blanche poked Mykaela’s cheek.
Mykaela laughed, swatted her mother’s hand away and ignored the question.
“Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do.” Blanche poured the egg mixture into a skillet before turning to face Mykaela. “It’s just…he’s a drifter, Mykaela. I don’t want to see you get involved with someone who might not stick around.”
She felt a pang in her chest at the thought that he might leave. She’d never considered that option, and now she felt like a silly, dreamy child with no hold on reality.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Blanche concluded, oblivious to Mykaela’s pain. She turned, making eye contact. “So be careful, okay?”
Mykaela nodded, unable to form words. She scooped up the biscuits and jelly and carried them to the guests’ dining room, eager to escape her mother’s worries. But she wondered if her mother had a point. Dylan never said how long he planned to stay in town. Or if he planned to stay. She decided to talk to him about it. She needed to find out where they stood.
She reentered the kitchen just as Jared came in. He was wearing his police uniform, and his face looked weighed down and sad when his gaze fell on Mykaela.
And she knew. Without him having to say a word, she knew another body was found. “Who is it?” she asked, her voice trembling. She wanted to cover her ears and pretend nothing was wrong.
“It’s Rachel,” he said.
She didn’t feel a wave of pain or grief, as she’d expected, only pity. It was all that remained.
“Honey, are you okay?” Blanche crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Mykaela. “I know this must be scary for you.”
“I just don’t understand,” she said, letting the tears flow. “I knew those girls my whole life. You went to school with their mothers. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen here.”
“I know, honey, I know.” She stroked Mykaela’s hair and squeezed her tight. “You’re going to be safe here, I promise.”
“But what about what happened ten years ago?” she asked. “What did Dad have to do with it, and why is it happenin
g again?”
“Your father had nothing to do with that.”
“I know, but that’s all you’ve ever told me.” She pulled back and looked at her mother. “What happened back then?”
Blanche’s eyes traveled somewhere far away, the same shattered look that always took over when Mykaela asked for answers. “I don’t know what happened, Mykaela. But I know your father did not go around killing little girls.”
“Prove it.” Mykaela turned and dashed up the steps to her bedroom on the third floor.
***
Late that night, with the light from the moon projecting a pale glow over the beach, Mykaela climbed onto the widow’s walk.
The massive, looming shadows from the forest stretched out across the sand, enveloping the storage building, the Inn and half of the beach. Glimmers of mist sparkled in a thin veil just above the ocean’s surface, like a blanket of tiny, intricately placed diamonds.
The water was more tumultuous than usual tonight. Wave after wave slammed against the shore; the rumbling sounds echoed all around her.
She saw a shadowed figure stride across the sand and into the forest and knew it was Dylan by the curve of his shoulders, and the tall, slender shape of his legs. Where was he going at two in the morning? Why would he go into the woods, as dark as they were?
She went back inside the house and crept down the stairs in the lobby. She wandered out the front door and in the direction he’d gone.
He’d already disappeared into the woods, but she attempted to go after him anyway. There was no guarantee she’d find him, or that she wouldn’t get lost, but her feet kept moving despite her nagging fears.
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