He followed her gaze, off the shore out to deeper waters.
Mr. Jordan turned in his chair and peeked as well.
“There’s someone out there!” She jumped out of her seat, alarmed. She pointed at a rolling wave about thirty feet from the shore where a darkish blue shape, nearly the color of the ocean, was bobbing up and down in the water. It took Michael a moment to catch it in his gaze.
“Oh my! Is someone in trouble?” Mr. Jordan got out of his chair to investigate.
Michael jumped up, slipped off his shoes and heavy jeans, diving into the water. He swam vigorously toward the bobbing figure. The water turned from ocean blue to red as he swam closer.
Blood.
A voice cried out for help.
“Please, it kills,” the voice pleaded. “Cannot get off.”
It appeared to be a woman, with long strands of wavy blue hair.
“Mermaid...” Michael sputtered. A mermaid having trouble in the water… “This can't be good.”
Thump.
Michael gaze tore down below him in the water.
Thump.
Something kept ramming into his legs. A dark shadow circled below. “What’s in the water?” he shouted to the mermaid.
“Big thing. Bad thing.” The mermaid’s voice was weak, and difficult to hear over the splashing of the waves. She thrashed madly, attempting to grasp something on her back.
Michael swam forward and almost swallowed water when he saw what was happening. “Bloodsucker...” Practically the length of the mermaid herself.
She disappeared, pulled under the water.
Michael dove after her.
Another bloodsucker had its mouth clenched to her flipper, keeping her from swimming properly.
Back on the pier, Emily and Mr. Jordan watched in concerned awe. Blood trails were now making their way to the pier. Emily wondered if she should try Charlie, William or Melinda for help. Or perhaps the sheriff would be a better choice.
A terrified scream stopped her from dialing. It wasn’t from Michael, but whatever he was trying to rescue. Emily had a sneaking suspicious it wasn’t a human. Thank God, Mr. Jordan knows about this stuff…
Underneath the surface of the water, Michael saw a terrible sight. More bloodsuckers. The blood was attracting them, and quickly.
He was not sure it would work, but he raised his palm and shot off an energy ball. It moved agonizingly slow underneath the water, and when a bloodsucker swam into its path, it did give the creature pause, but did not do any significant damage. He wished he knew more spells that would work under the water.
There was little time. The mermaid was sinking, now unconscious. Michael swam to her and with all of his strength pulled at the bloodsucker attached to her back, while kicking at the one attached to her leg. His lungs burned for air but he did not surface. He could not perform the underwater breathing spell like Charlie.
Michael put his hand up to the sucker attacking her back and blasted it at the closest range possible with an energy ball. Its grip loosened enough for Michael to peel it off.
He blasted the bloodsucker on her leg, yanked the mermaid upward sucking in a deep breath when finally above the water. He swam toward the shore with the mermaid in tow.
Bloodsuckers swarmed, a frenzy of bodies searching for the source of the blood.
As Michael swam, he kept hold of the mermaid with one hand, shooting off spells with the other. The slippery, cold skin of the bloodsuckers chafed his skin like sandpaper each time one got close enough to brush up against him. When Michael touched bottom, he stood and pulled the mermaid toward the beach. Emily and Mr. Jordan raced to his aid.
“Stay out of the water,” Michael warned through heavy breaths.
They waited at the water's edge, helping him pull the mermaid's body onto the shore. Michael ignored his own injuries, which appeared to be minor and thankfully had not punctured his skin, thus adding no additional blood to the sucker’s frenzied search. He collapsed on the shore trying to catch his breath, while Emily checked on the mermaid.
She’d never seen one before. Michael had told her they existed. But wow. A mermaid. And unfortunately a severely injured mermaid.
She had two long, muscular legs with flippers for feet. She wasn’t moving and as her body dried, milky white skin replaced her scaly legs. Her long locks of blue hair lay limp over her body.
Mr. Jordan stared in awe at the sight. He had seen a mermaid once before, but it still amazed him that they were real. “At breakfast a werewolf, and lunch, a mermaid! What’s for dinner?” he cried out in bewilderment.
The mermaid lay on her back, seemingly unable to catch enough air. The sand underneath her body was turning red as she continued to lose blood.
“Can’t move legs,” the mermaid whimpered.
“She’s losing a lot of blood,” Emily warned.
Mr. Jordan’s astonished gaze turned to one of grave concern. “Don’t imagine we can just call an ambulance, can we?”
“No. We definitely cannot do that.” Michael wasn’t sure what to do, other than use magic to try to stop the bleeding. Healing wounds was tricky though. And even trickier when they were supernatural beings, and not human.
Michael crawled over to the mermaid, gently rolling her onto her side to check the wound on her back. The bloodsucker had sliced into her skin, leaving an oval shaped set of teeth marks where it had clamped down on her skin. Blood leaked out uncontrollably. “We have to stop the bleeding or she won’t make it.”
Suddenly the mermaid's eyes flickered, and she tried to speak.
Emily leaned in, listening.
“Bad bad things,” the mermaid stammered. “Killing sisters.”
Emily tried to comfort her while Michael tried desperately to stop the bleeding.
The mermaid peered into Emily’s eyes. “You save sisters, now.” The mermaid grasped Emily’s head, pulling her in close. “I die now.” With her last ragged breath, a stream of ocean blue light poured out of the mermaid’s mouth.
“You must let go!” Mr. Jordan called out quite suddenly.
It was too late.
Emily breathed in the stream of light, now holding a lifeless mermaid on bloodstained sand.
Michael stood up, exhausted and disappointed.
The bloodsuckers were turning out to be a problem after all. They would have to deal with this situation as quickly and discreetly as possible, before anyone else got hurt or died, above or below the water.
However, that was not the only problem.
Emily’s panic reached his mind before her voice.
“Um, Michael… help,” she squealed.
Michael and Mr. Jordan watched with bewildered gazes as Emily’s brown hair lengthened, shifting in color to a shade of ocean blue. A wave crashed to the shore, splashing saltwater onto her legs. Scales erupted on the surface of her skin, lining her arms and neck. Emily fell over, unable to stand as her legs disappeared from underneath her, replaced by thick, brightly colored, scaly flippers. The shorts she’d been wearing shattered. Her hips suddenly shapely and thick.
“Holy fucking wow!” choked Michael, in total shock.
“Sorry,” muttered Mr. Jordan. “I tried to warn you, but it was too late when I realized what was happening.”
Michael just stared. Speechless.
“You see, in my research, I have discovered that a mermaid, in their moment of death, can transfer their essence to another sister. But not to fret! We have until sunset to solve this conundrum.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Emily, seeming to be unable to control her wildly floundering flippers.
“If we cannot change you back before sunset, the water will call you home, my dear,” explained Mr. Jordan. “You will not be able to set foot on dry land, or turn back into a human, but one day each month.”
“Oh dear,” Emily whimpered. “This isn't at all what I pictured being a mermaid was like... I used to dream about being a mermaid when I was a little girl...” she paus
ed, now panicked. “I really don't want to be a mermaid, Michael.”
Michael gulped hard, unable to take his eyes off Emily. He struggled to ignore her panic over this development and focus only on his own. He didn’t want a mermaid for a girlfriend, either. He finally allowed his gaze to float toward Anthony Jordan. “Sunset you say?”
Mr. Jordan nodded a curt yes in reply.
“Stay right here, Em. I gotta make a few phone calls.” Michael raced to the jeans he’d left on the pier to get his cell phone. He wasn’t sure who to call first. He just prayed someone knew how to keep his girlfriend from becoming a permanent resident of the Atlantic Ocean.
CHAPTER FOUR
William Wakefield stood at the entrance of a mausoleum. It was located in the center of The Demon Isle Graveyard. An engraving over the doorway read, Howard.
He pushed open the heavy iron door with ease, entering into a stone room, which was lined with urn after urn, each carved with the name of a deceased Howard; many of whom he had known and called friend during his many years living on the Isle.
He stood in the center of the room and closed his eyes for a moment as if listening to voices no one else could hear. The voice of each Howard he’d watched come into this world, only to die, typically far too young.
“I have watched many of you come and go.” His mournful whisper echoed softly. He opened his eyes. “And to one of you, I made a promise: to always look after and guide the next generation of Howard Witches.”
He took a few steps, caressing each urn with his hand before continuing, remembering the beginning and end of each of their short human lives.
“It is getting harder to keep this promise,” he spoke to the urns, his voice low. “Harder to watch each of you succumb to your inevitable end, while I remain, unchanged. Although I fully realize your inevitable end, I am beginning to fear it, now more than ever.” The admittance squeezed tight in his chest.
He stopped at an urn, which stood near the back of the room, speaking to it directly. “There are but three of you left. Four, if we can locate and save Jack Howard. If I cannot protect them, what will become of this island? What will become of me? It is selfish of me to consider such things. But you have been my salvation, my family, these many years. But if I fail? If I cannot keep this promise I have made…”
William bowed his head as if to pray, kneeling in front of the urn, leaning his forehead against it. He allowed memories to flood his mind. Memories he had tried to suppress for many years.
A woman. Young. Standing alone in a snow-covered wood. Her bright blue eyes scouring the area, searching for something. She pushed out a frosty breath, her ruby lips illuminated by the surrounding white. Her mouth turned into a captivating smile as a shadow emerged. “William,” she called out as he approached.
“My dearest Angelina.” William kissed her cheek gently, abruptly letting go, backing away from her. “I do not yet trust myself to be this close to you.”
“Ah, yes, the problem with being courted by a vampire.” Her reproach hinted sarcasm. “If my family finds out what I've been up to...” she shook her head. She imagined telling them, introducing them to the man she loved. A vampire. It would not go over well.
“You need not tell them, Angelina. You know that I am a friend to the Howard Witches, but they may never fully accept me as such.”
“If you'd just let me tell them all you’ve done, William,” Angelina implored. “Just how many years you have lived here, helping them. Saving them. And all in secret.”
“It does not change my past, my love. I may desire friends. Family. I do not yet deserve these things. How can I ask for salvation when I still have so much to make amends for?”
“And what of me? Do you not deserve me?”
“No,” he responded with absolute certainty. “I do not deserve to be loved by someone as kind and as beautiful as you... but I dare say I cannot help myself.”
“And a mere human no less.” Her eyes teased him, dared him to come closer.
“The most magnificent human I have ever laid eyes on.” His feet disobeyed his orders, taking lustful steps closer. He stopped, closed his eyes and stepped back.
Angelina stepped forward and cupped his face in her hands. “I love you, William Wakefield. With all my heart. No matter how my family reacts to you, or us, nothing will ever change that.”
His fingers stroked her chest, stopping over her beating heart. He wished deeply at that moment he was human again. To be rid of this vampire curse. A curse that meant a solitary life. He craved to live just one lifetime. A normal, human life. With Angelina Howard.
Her thumping heart under his hand was proof enough they would never be together. He could not live with himself if he took her life and infected her with his curse... and yet the thought of living without her was equally painful. And this would happen. Their years together would be far too short.
These memories flooded through William like a broken dam rushing towards freedom. His eyes flickered opened, just inches from the name carved into the urn on which he leaned his head.
It read, Angelina Howard.
He caressed the stone as if caressing her cheek. “Not a day goes by that I do not miss you.”
Another memory forged into his mind. One that made his brow furrow, his breath heavy and pained.
It was dark, and a summer’s night. Angelina Howard stood by his side. Time had clearly passed; her face aged a few years. A little fuller. Thin lines around her mouth and eyes. Still, William looked upon her with complete adoration.
Other Howard Witches, all of whom had now accepted William into the family, also surrounded them on both sides.
A battle ensued.
Spells cast.
Orders shouted.
Blasts of fire lighting up the darkened night sky.
It continued for hours, witch against witch, Howard against Deane. Deep in the woods of The Demon Isle.
Morning threatened to arrive, casting golden beams over the tops of the trees. The battle raged on. Two Howards and three Deanes dead.
William dashed to block a falling tree that was about to crash to the ground, crushing the unconscious man lying underneath its path. As William thrust the tree into the woods, his beloved Angelina screamed.
He twisted around just in time to see her collapsing to the ground.
William was at her side so fast she had fallen only inches before he caught her, instantly whisking her away from the battle. He stopped, the battle a distant echo, gently placing her on the ground.
Angelina clutched her stomach, unable to stop the warm blood gushing out of her body. William's eyes widened as he feared what so much blood would do to him, but he looked into Angelina's eyes and all fear subsided, the blood a mere passing thought.
“I know what I swore to you,” he spoke, in uneven anguish. “But I cannot express how it pains me, to see you dying and not save you.”
“But you have saved me, William. And my family. You discovered the Deane's plot to take over the Isle. It was you who gave us enough warning. Because of you, they will not win.”
“And now, because of me, you are dying…”
“I know you won't change me, William. You swore you would not, and could not, do so. You haven’t forgiven your past, and still hold the belief that you do not deserve love, or happiness.” She stopped, coughing, her breathing labored.
William's face turned to forlorn stone. “I do not know how I will continue through my long years without you.” What would become of his life? It finally held some purpose. Some meaning. Without Angelina, or the Howards, his life was worthless. Meaningless.
Her heart stuttered, her bloodied hand lifting to caress his face. It took almost all her strength to do it, but she needed to touch his face one last time. “I will never stop loving you, William. One day, I hope you find the one that makes you believe, like I did not.” Her eyes closed and she let out a strained moan.
William looked on, remorseful that he could not give
in.
That he could not change her and make her like him. A companion to love for the rest of his days. However many those might be.
His fangs bit into his lip, the desire to sink into her flesh, to let her feed off his blood… to save her… but his reasons would be purely selfish. He would not curse her with a miserable existence like his own. To watch everyone he loved grow old and die. Year after year. Decade after decade.
“William…” her voice called out, to him weakly.
“Yes, my love.”
“There is one thing I ask of you. Don’t leave the Isle. Stay. Protect the Howard line. They need you, William. You’re one of us now.”
He promised, “Yes,” without hesitation. “Always. For as many days as I am kept alive by my curse, I will protect the Howard line. For you.”
“Thank you, William.” Her hand dropped, strength used up.
He leaned in, kissing her lips, her warm breath fading against his icy inhale. Her body went still. Silent. Empty.
Angelina was gone. Nothing more than a memory he would never be able to forget. He rocked her body against his, leaning against her forehead. “Why couldn’t I have just saved you?”
Was it too late now?
He knew it was.
Shaking, he kissed her and closed her eyelids. Never again would her brightness lighten the darkness he carried inside him.
“I should have saved you,” he cried, tearlessly.
William pulled Angelina’s lifeless body into his own, her blood covering his clothes. The blood meant nothing. The smell didn’t drag him in. Didn’t tempt him.
But the loss burrowed into his veins, pulsing fury into his core.
Fury aimed at those responsible for stealing away his beloved Angelina. His eyes opened, peering back towards the direction of the battle. His chest heaved, rage building. He set her on the ground and bounded towards the battle.
He stopped at the edge of the battlefield, a clearing deep in the woods. His eyes narrowed in on his prey: every Deane still alive on the battlefield. He aimed his deadly gaze at the closest Deane.
Something stopped him abruptly. He stood at the edge of the battle realizing Angelina would never condone revenge. To slaughter them all would turn him into the very thing he’d fought so hard to suppress. A monster. With no other purpose than to hunt and kill.
Bye Bye Bloodsucker (Wicked Good Witches Book 3) Page 4
