The Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Books 1-3: Books 1-3 in the Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Series

by Lora Edwards

  Blackbeard spoke up first. “I know of Stanton. He is not the current duke as his father still holds that title, but I have heard rumors that he is interested in the occult and spends most of his time at the country estate, locked in his study. The gossip around the docks is that he comes down and procures strange items from ships known to trade in forbidden or unusual cargo.”

  “He sounds obsessed with the supernatural,” Erik replied.

  “He is definitely our guy. Sounds like when the ship docks, we will be taking a ride into the country,” Ovidia declared. She turned again to the mirror, muttering the incantation one more time then clearly stating, “Isle of the Sirens.”

  The mirror wavered and rippled, and then the slowly the study where they had met the Siren king came into view.

  Ovidia spoke softly as to not startle the man. “Your highness.” He sat behind his ornate desk, head in his hands. When he looked up, Ovidia felt her heart drop. He looked more haggard than he had when they’d been there only a few days before; the strain of worrying about his daughter was taking a toll on him. “Your highness,” Ovidia said again with a small bow.

  “Miss Valkyrie, have you found my daughter,” he asked, hope sparkling briefly in his eyes.

  “Not yet. We will be landing in England in the next few hours. We believe we have discovered where she is being held and who is holding her.”

  “Does it have to do with Leona,” he asked, his face hardening as her name dropped from his lips.

  “Yes, we believe her grandson is the one holding Delphine. As soon as we make land, we will head for the country estate of the Duke of Stanton, as we believe that is where she is being held.”

  “Thank you for all you have done. Please just bring my daughter home safe,” he pleaded.

  “We will do all in our power to bring her back to you,” Ovidia said, hoping they would be returning the girl alive and not delivering a body for him to bury.

  “Thank you again.” The king turned his chair to look out at the moody sea behind the island.

  “Not to bother you, your highness, but do you happen to know if one of our crew made it back to the island,” Ovidia asked.

  A small smile came to his face. “Indeed he did. His story is quite fantastic, but as I said before when you were here, not unheard of. I remember his Grandmother ,and Grandfather. He loved her so, and I don’t believe the man’s broken heart ever recovered from the loss. It was a physical pain to be here among her people. We gladly welcome Michael back to our community. Amora was ecstatic, and I believe they will make each other happy,” he said, the sadness returning to his face. “Some humans are steadfast. Not all are like Leona—fickle and flighty.”

  “We will find your daughter,” Ovidia said, vehemence in her voice.

  “I believe if anyone can, it will be you, Ovidia,” King Merrick said then turned his chair once again toward the sea.

  Ovidia bowed again, even though he could not see her, and whispered a farewell before turning from the mirror.

  “I am glad to know Michael made it okay. He will be happy there. It always seemed as if there was something missing for him, and I think this may have been it,” Blackbeard said.

  Ovidia nodded, agreeing with his sentiment. “When we dock, I say we hit the ground running. We can rent some horses and start making our way to the countryside. It has to be fairly easy to find the estate of such a notable family.”

  “It is located near the town of Foxwich, about two days’ ride from London,” Blackbeard said.

  “Then we rent horses and ride as far as we can before finding a tavern to stay in. If we’re lucky, we will also be able to get some information from the local people on Stanton and find out if they have seen anything. He had to get her from London to the countryside somehow.”

  The men both nodded and the three separated, Blackbeard to get the ship ready to dock, and Ovidia and Erik to gather their things to get ready for the next part of the mission.

  Ovidia stood looking around the room that had been hers. She would miss the smell of the sea, the roll of the ocean under her feet. Vikings were, after all, seafaring people, and she had not realized how much she had missed that part of her life at home.

  Shaking off the moment of homesickness, she stepped into the hallway and right into Erik.

  “Ovidia,” he said in a deep voice.

  “Erik.”

  His gaze wandered from her eyes to her mouth. “When all of this is over and we have rescued the Siren, we are due for a talk,” he said gruffly.

  “Agreed,” she said. She was apparently down to one-word sentences. He had always made her feel that way: feminine and strong at the same time. She had missed being held in his arms, being able to talk to someone who understood all parts of her life. They would finish the mission and then they would talk.

  The ship shuddered briefly, and the pirates could be heard from above, calling out instructions as they tied up to the dock. They had made it back to London.

  Ovidia and Erik joined the others on the deck, watching the hustle and bustle that was universal to any set of docks in any time. The pirates would leave this journey rich with gold and jewels and a strange hole in their memory. Some would dream of beautiful women singing on a rock, some would dream of nothing at all. A few would tell stories to their grandchildren when they were too old for the pirating life, stories about the one journey they couldn’t forget because it was a mystery to them. All they would remember was the faint sound of singing and the impression of a beautiful woman with a fish’s tail.

  Ovidia and Erik left the ship, waving to the crew. Blackbeard would finish the necessities on the ship then join them. In the meantime, they would find mounts to rent and get some food packed for their journey. Then they would be on their way to find the lost Siren.

  Chapter 14

  “Sir, we have received word from the docks that the ship has landed.” The man cringed as Stanton looked up, his grey-green eyes glinting with madness.

  “Good, thank you Stanley. I believe we will let our visitors start their journey and then give them a warm welcome when they reach Stanton Manor.” He rubbed his hands together. He could not wait to add these others to his collection. A Valkyrie, an immortal Norse demigod, and a shapeshifter would be unique additions to the others that resided in the hidden depths of Stanton Manor. “Stanley, get my coach and horses ready—we leave at once. We must be there to welcome our guests.”

  It was finally time. He would stop this silly rescue attempt, and then he would start with his small collection and move out, destroying the hidden supernatural community that existed. When all were clear from London, he would sail out and destroy the isle of the Sirens, destroy those who’d addled his grandmother’s mind and caused her descent into madness. He knew it was her time with those unnatural creatures that had caused her death; she had ranted and raved about them in her last days. He would avenge her, and he would not stop until he had enslaved or wiped out all of the unnaturals of the world.

  Feeling satisfaction that his plan was being executed perfectly, he stood from his desk, grabbing the case that contained his potions and powders. He would subdue them and then he would enslave them and make them watch as he unraveled their society bit by bit.

  Having secured their means of transportation, Ovidia and Erik met Blackbeard back at the docks with three fine horses in tow.

  “Good work, these are magnificent beasts,” Blackbeard said, stroking and crooning to the nearest horse, a massive black Arabian.

  “They looked like good horseflesh, swift and lively. They should get us to our destination in record time,” Erik said, stroking his own sable-colored mount.

  “Let’s get going then, daylight is wasting,” Ovidia said as she swung up into the saddle of her buckskin steed. The horse whinnied and threw back his head, as eager as his rider to get on with the journey.

  They rode through town at a sedate pace, and when the hustle and bustle of London was behind them, they gave the hor
ses their head. Ovidia laughed out loud, pulling her broadsword from her side. It glowed as she brandished it, cackling with a fierce light in her eye.

  Erik watched her in awe. She looked like a Viking warrior of old as she rode, letting out her berserker cry, brandishing her sword, her blonde hair streaming behind, her body moving with the lithe movements of the horse. He had never seen her look so beautiful. He knew he had made a mistake in letting her go. He had let fear rule his decisions. When all of this was over and they returned to their own time, he would rectify that and return Ovidia to her rightful place beside him.

  Kicking his own horse into gear, Erik let out his own cry and galloped up and past Ovidia. She grinned, replacing her sword. It vanished into the air beside her, still there but invisible to the eye.

  This was an old game from their childhood. They would race up and down the hills of their respective kingdoms, practicing their swordplay and challenging each other to races.

  She kicked her horse again and it thundered up to Erik’s. She smiled fiercely in his face as she galloped past him, her laughter streaming like her hair behind her.

  Blackbeard rolled his eyes and followed the two of them at a slightly more sedate pace. It was a Viking mating ritual if he ever saw one.

  They rode like mad until they were forced to slow down and let the horses rest.

  “I beat you, just like old times,” Ovidia said as she slowed her mount further to ride abreast with Erik.

  “Beat me? I don’t think so—I let you win,” he said.

  “Really? I don’t think so Erik. Admit it: I have always been a better rider than you.”

  Erik snorted.

  “Get a room,” Blackbeard muttered under his breath, causing Ovidia and Erik to look back at him. “What? Seriously, you two are crazy for each other—just admit it,” Blackbeard said, a wicked grin on his face.

  Ovidia and Erik avoided each other’s eyes and as they crested a hill, a tavern and small village came into view.

  “This looks like a good place to stop for the night. I will enquire if they have any rooms,” Ovidia said, deftly changing the subject.

  Ovidia looked at the darkening sky and nodded her approval. It would be dangerous to ride at night and the horses needed rest, water, and food. They had ridden them hard, and they deserved a reward for their efforts.

  The trio dismounted and Ovidia strode into the inn.

  She looked around the room. It was low ceilinged, and low round tables were scattered around. Men sat at them, drinking tankards of ale.

  “How can we help you, miss,” asked the portly man behind the bar as he wiped a spill with a rag.

  “There are three of us in need of rooms for the evening. Do you have any available,” she asked, leaning on the counter and taking a closer look at the establishment. It looked like any of the many taverns and inns she had been in during missions to this time period.

  “As a matter of fact, we have three left, but we don’t serve pirates,” he said, sneering at Ovidia’s outfit. She reached into the pouch tied to her waist and pulled out three gold pieces. She watched as the man’s eyes shined with greed at the sight of the coins glinting in the dim light. “Perhaps we can make an exception this one time,” he said, his voice sweet like honey, in sharp contrast to the sneer he had given her a few minutes before.

  Ovidia rolled her eyes; humans could be so predictable. She just nodded at the innkeeper and strode back out to where Erik and Blackbeard stood waiting with the horses.

  “They have rooms available. Let’s get the horses bedded down for the night. We can get a meal—the place looks clean enough—and then get a good night’s rest. There is no telling what is going to meet us at Stanton Manor.”

  Ovidia took the reins to her horse from Erik and walked with the others to the stables. After getting the horses set, the trio went back to the inn.

  Ovidia again strode up to the bar where the innkeeper still plied his cloth along the wood of the bar.

  “Barkeep, we need three ales, and dinner for three,” she said then turned back to the table, not waiting for his response.

  “From what I can tell, we are less than a day’s ride from the manor. This may be the last proper village before we arrive,” Blackbeard said.

  “Then why are we waiting? Shouldn’t we just storm the manor now and catch them by surprise,” Ovidia asked, standing from her seat.

  “Vid, sit down. We need rest. We have been out to sea for weeks, and we need food and rest after the hard ride from London. Besides, we may be able to get information from the locals here on what goes on up at Stanton Manor,” Erik said calmly as a barmaid set three tankards of ale on the table.

  “Thank you miss,” Blackbeard said with a saucy wink in the direction of the serving girl. She blushed and hurried away, giving him another glance before disappearing into the kitchens.

  She came back, her hands full of plates piled high with meat, potatoes, and some kind of vegetable. Ovidia looked down at the meal, her stomach growling.

  “I really hope this meat came from a cow, but right now I don’t really care,” she said before digging into the dish. It was delicious.

  For a few minutes, there was no discussion, just the scrape of silverware on plates as the three devoured the rustic yet filling meal in front of them.

  Sitting back in their chairs with the remainder of their tankards, they discussed their plans for the next day.

  The serving girl came over with three fresh tankards and Blackbeard caught her by the arm, ignoring the scowl he received from the innkeeper.

  “Say you, lady, you are quite beautiful,” he said, watching the pretty blush spread over her cheeks once again.

  “Thank you sir,” she said, looking down at her shoes and not at him.

  “What is a pretty girl like you doing working in an inn,” he enquired.

  Ovidia opened her mouth to protest but Erik shoved an elbow in her side and shook his head at her sharply.

  She glared at him but then turned her attention back to Blackbeard. She would not let him lure this poor unsuspecting girl into his bed. She was likely the daughter of the innkeeper and if she was deflowered by a pirate, she would never be able to find a suitable husband. She would be ruined.

  “My parents own the inn, sir. I have lived here my whole life,” she said quietly.

  “Then you must know quite a bit about the people hereabouts then,” he said, winking at her once more.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, her gaze now focused on his shirt.

  “Tell me, lovely, what do you know about Stanton Manor,” he asked.

  The serving girl’s eyes immediately shot to Blackbeard’s, and Ovidia saw the fear shining from them.

  “I don’t know much about that place, sir. I better get back to work or Father will be angry with me for staying so long.” She cast a wary gaze at the man behind the bar.

  He was too busy talking with another man to notice what his daughter was doing.

  Blackbeard looked up at the girl and smiled at her.

  Ovidia watched as the girl melted into his gaze.

  She rolled her eyes, but if it worked and they got the information they needed, there was no harm in flirting. She would make it very clear to Blackbeard that this was as far as it would go with the innocent girl.

  “Well there is talk that strange things go on there, sounds heard in the night and people from the village who have been hired there never being seen again.” The girl shuddered, the topic obviously making her uncomfortable.

  “Thank you dear,” Blackbeard said, letting go of her arm. “Can we get one more round?”

  The girl blushed again and hurried to the bar to get refills for their drinks.

  Ovidia leaned over the table and coldly stared at Blackbeard, putting every ounce of fierceness she possessed into the gaze. “You will stay away from that girl. She is innocent, and you would ruin her.”

  A wide grin split Blackbeard’s face. “Ovidia, my dear, I would never defile s
uch a sweet maid. A bit of flirting was all that was needed to get the information we seek. If she comes knocking in the night, do not fret, I will turn her away as kindly as I can.”

  Ovidia gave him one last glare. “You better,” she growled before sitting back in her chair as the girl brought them another round.

  Ovidia took a deep drink from the tankard as the girl retreated once more.

  “It sounds as if we are in the right place, if what she said is to be believed,” Erik said as he too took a long drink from his tankard.

  Ovidia yawned so hard, her jaw cracked. “Gentlemen, I am off to bed. I will see you bright and early in the morning,” she said.

  Erik and Blackbeard drained their tankards and stood as well.

  “Cracking idea. I think we should all call it a night and get some good rest. As Ovidia said earlier, we have no idea what to expect tomorrow.” Blackbeard gave one more wink to the barmaid then followed Ovidia and Erik up a flight of stairs next to the front door.

  The innkeeper had given Ovidia keys attached to large wooden disks, each with a number on it.

  She handed one to each of the men and kept one for herself.

  “This is me gentlemen. See you in the morning.”

  Blackbeard and Erik both called their goodnights, and Ovidia opened the wooden door to her room.

  It was plain but clean. A bed sat under a large window, covered with a quilt. A washstand and basin stood to one side, and a bureau sat on the other. Ovidia did not care as long as the sheets were clean. The excitement of the day must have been catching up to her as all of a sudden, she felt weariness descend on her like a stack of bricks. It was all she could do to undress and crawl between the sheets before she drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.

  Ovidia woke with her head pounding and her mouth tasting like she had licked sand. She open her bleary eyes then hissed at the pain the dim light caused, closing them again.

  She heard someone groan and she frowned, keeping her eyes shut and trying to think past the blinding headache. Where was she? Who was in the room with her?