“Yeah. But we do need to get some things from the market. We can’t live on just this for very long,” Darby joked.
“On my way home I can pick up some necessities, or I can come home, grab you, and we can go together,” Devon suggested.
“No. That’s okay. Get something for tonight and then we’ll go into to town when the plumber is here and do some heavy grocery shopping.”
“Perfect…any special requests?” Devon asked.
“No. Not really,” she said.
They ate their breakfast and Devon kissed her on the head as he headed out the door. “Oh, by the way…our cell phones don’t work out here too well, so you’ll have a hard time getting ahold of me…plus the phones aren’t hooked up yet, so if you need anything the neighbor just up the road knows we’re here. If there’s an emergency you can go to her. Her name is Moira Hannigan.”
“Thanks, Sweetie, but I’ll be fine,” she said and she waved to Devon as he drove off in a dusty old car that had been stored in the garage.
Darby smiled and shut the door, turning back towards the kitchen when she spied the book she had thought was on her nightstand on a table near the door. How the heck did you get down here? I don’t remember coming down here last night. She shrugged her shoulders and carrying the book, she headed back to the kitchen, setting the book down on the table, and then ventured out the back door to find the potting shed.
There nestled snugly among the waist high grass and wildflowers she spied the potting shed. Its boards were bleached a gray-white and seemed in need of some attention. It was nice sized, maybe eight feet by eight feet and had at least one window that she could see from her angle. The rusty latch that held the door closed was stubbornly keeping access from her. With a hard tug and a bit of brute force it finally relented and opened. It was a spider haven. Webs were thickly spun and draped here and there with a haphazard pattern over most everything.
Darby looked like she was dog-paddling in the air as she made her way to a table where she found some leather gloves, a dusty old straw hat, a sturdy basket, and a trowel. She grabbed these items and spied a shovel leaning in a ‘v’ between the table and the wall, and a window above shedding shafts of glittering, dusty light among the shadows of the shed. Just as she reached for the shovel, a weathered face appeared in the window, making Darby jump and squeal in her shock. She held her hand to her chest as adrenaline went rushing through her body. She grabbed all her items and headed out of the shed to greet the stranger.
As she came out of the shed, dropping the items in her hands, she brushed herself of any straggling webs that had attached to her as she’d passed through them, only to jump once more as the face that was at the window, appeared just feet in front of her.
“You startled me!” Darby said.
“I’m sorry, child,” the woman apologized.
When Darby was done brushing herself off, she wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans and offered her hand in greeting to the ancient looking woman.
“I’m Darby. Darby O’Reilly.”
“O’Reilly, huh? Good Irish name, my Dear,” she said.
“Yes. And who might you be?” Darby said, trying not to be rude, but wondering what this woman was doing lurking around and peeking into windows.
“I’m no one of consequence, just an old peller,” she answered.
“Would you like some tea? We don’t have much, since we’ve only just arrived, but I do believe I saw some tea in the cupboard,” Darby offered.
“That would be lovely, child,” the old woman said.
“Great, follow me,” Darby said and led the strange woman to the back door of the house. The woman entered the kitchen looking around, almost as if she were looking for something in particular. One of her hands gripped a small leather pouch around her neck, and the other went around touching anything and everything. Suspicious, Darby watched her as she made her way around the entire kitchen. She didn’t enter the living room, but she did peek her head in and took a long look around. Then she continued her investigation of the kitchen. When she had completed her circle in the kitchen the last thing she touched before she sat down was the book that had mysteriously vanished from Darby’s bedside table. The old lady’s hand lingered on the book as if she were reading some kind of energy from it.
Darby wasn’t scared of the woman, but she certainly was puzzled by her. Her brightly colored clothes somehow made her look older than Darby suspected she was. The tea kettle started its high pitched squeal and Darby poured the steaming beverage into two cups and deposited them on the table where she had already set out some lemon, cream, and sugar.
“So tell me, ‘no one of consequence,’ what is a peller?” Darby asked.
“Very good question, my Dear. In Gaelic it would be ‘cailleach’ (pronounced: kyle-yewkh), but seeing as you’ve a US sounding accent, you might call me a witch or doctor of sorts. People around here might even sense this of you, if truth be told,” she said.
“Me? Why would you say that?” Darby asked.
“I sense these things. We who hold the power can sense it on one another,” she said matter-of-factly. “I followed my senses right to your potting shed. Your powers are strong too.”
“You sense this about me?” Darby asked.
“Yes. You’ve inherited your powers, where mine were bestowed on me by one of the wee folk,” she said.
“The wee folk…you mean Faeries?” Darby asked.
“Among others. You say that like you’ve never seen one?”
“I haven’t,” Darby admitted.
“Hmm…That’s surprising,” she said.
“Why? Why is that surprising?” Darby asked.
“Well, considering you are a Seer, I assumed you had seen them,” she explained.
“A Seer? What is a Seer?” Darby asked.
“You mean your were not taught in the ways of a Seer?” the woman asked with surprise.
“No. My sister and I know we are from a family of witches but it was thought best by our parents and grandparents that we not use our powers to fit in better,” Darby explained.
“Saints preserve us. What a lot of hogwash. I just can’t understand why those who are blessed with a gift do not embrace it. You have a duty to bestow your help on those who lack the power. Why else would you be given such a gift? Your family was blessed as being one that could handle the power, as it grows in strength with each generation.
“A Seer, my Dear, is one that can see, converse, and commune with those from the other realm. In some it manifests itself in prophecy or seeing the future; in others it is merely a different form of communication with those on a different plane,” she said.
“So you’re saying I can see the future?” Darby asked.
“No. I’m not sure how your power will work, but it will show itself when it thinks you are ready,” she said.
“Well, that’s not very helpful,” Darby admitted.
“I didn’t make the rules, that’s just how it happens,” she said.
“Are you a Seer?” Darby asked.
“No, but I can communicate with the others if they need my services,” the woman explained.
“Then what is it you do?” Darby asked.
“I’m more of an untangler. When someone gets all knotted up from a curse or ailment, I’m the one they seek. I untie the knots that bind them to another’s spell or alleviate the entanglements they’ve brought upon themselves.”
“So you get a lot of people seeking an untangling Peller?” Darby asked.
“More than you might think, child. In the spring, people come from miles around looking for my help, since that is the season I am most powerful.
“So you’ve not seen any of the ‘wee folk’ as of yet, huh?” The old woman looked around the room again. She seemed to be listening to something.
“Nope. Not yet. You seem surprised,” Darby said.
“I am. There is a horde of them all around you. Something must be going on for so many to be a
round. I am surprised you can’t hear them though,” she admitted.
“Can you see them? Are they in the room with us?” Darby asked.
“Oh. Darling, they’re everywhere. You seem to be the center of their attention, though. That’s why I’m surprised you haven’t seen them yet. They must be waiting for something or someone. They’ll let you know when they want to communicate with you, then there will be no stopping them,” the woman said.
“Well, that doesn’t sound promising,” Darby said, rather concerned.
“I don’t recall saying it would be a bowl full of cherries. Well, my Dear, I must be getting along. Thank you for the tea and conversation,” she said as she scurried out of the door before Darby could react.
“But wait, I don’t even know your name or how to find you,” Darby yelled after the woman.
The old woman waved without turning and said, “Oh, I won’t be far and the name is Nuala (pronounced Noo-la).” As quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.
What an odd woman? Nuala - hmmmm. Pretty name, though. Well, I better get to what I was doing.
Darby headed back to the shed and picked up the items she had left near the door. When she walked around the front of the house, there was a large, red and white striped envelope leaned up against the door.
Hmmm. It’s addressed to Devon. It’s probably a quote from a contractor or something.
She opened the front door and set the envelope on a little side table near an overstuffed chair, then ducked back out of doors and started pulling weeds in the giant tear drop area in the middle of the driveway.
Chapter Fourteen
Dominic, Melanie, and Josh made their way down the long sterile corridor of the hospital, when Josh spied Sally walking towards them. Dean rounded the corner behind her carrying two cups when Josh waved his hand to get their attention. Smiles appeared on both their weary faces.
“Hey guys. You made good time,” Dean said with a hushed voice.
“Yes. No delays at all and we were able to get the next flight out. Any news from Dr. Andrews?” Dominic asked.
“He’s been here all night, in and out,” Sally said. “He was waiting for us when the ambulance got here just as you had said he would. He hasn’t said much to any of us. He did sedate Rowan and brought in a cot for her, so that has been a blessing.”
“When was the last time you saw the doctor?” Josh asked.
Dean said, “About two hours ago. He’s probably about due for his next look-see.”
They all filed into the room, finding a tiny lump under a blanket on a small cot to one side of the bed. Rowan’s long, strawberry blonde hair spilled down over the side of the cot and barely touched the floor. Blake, on the other hand was resting on his back looking eerily still as machines beeped and IV bags dripped. For as big as he was, he looked like a child to Dominic.
As they assembled closer to the bed, the door suddenly opened and the tiny bundle on the cot stirred. The doctor entered and, seeing Dominic, smiled with a hand extended towards him.
“Good to see you, Tony. Thank you so much for taking care of Blake for me on such short notice,” Dominic said.
“Not a problem, Dominic. It’s good to see you too, although I wish it were under better circumstance,” the doctor replied.
“Indeed. Can you tell us what’s wrong with him?” Dominic asked.
“Ummm. Maybe we should go to my office and talk,” Dr. Andrews responded after looking around the room.
“I don’t think there’s anything any of these friends can’t hear,” Dominic assured him.
“Right. Well, I’ve done a few tests and the preliminary findings are not good. Something is killing his blood cells and quite rapidly at that. Being what we are,” the doctor looked around the faces of the room carefully, “that shouldn’t happen. We’ve given him several transfusions, but all with the same results, within a few hours the cells start dying off again.”
“What would cause such a thing in a vampire?” Dominic asked, confused.
“The only thing I can think of is that he has ingested some…Bad Blood.” The doctor looked directly at Dominic as if this was code for something else.
Dominic thought for a moment then said, “No…you don’t mean…”
“What already?” Dean said impatiently “What is the dreaded ‘Bad Blood’? Is that like Boogeyman blood, or what? I mean how can there be ‘Bad Blood’ for a vampire? Blood is blood, right?! It’s all good. Isn’t it?”
“Not all blood is good, Dean,” Dominic tried to explain. “If I’m understanding Dr. Andrews, and I think I am, he’s referring to ‘Deadman’s Blood’. Am I right?” Dominic looked for a sign from Dr. Andrews who nodded.
“But how can that be? Blake isn’t a made vampire. He doesn’t go around killing to sustain his thirst. He’s got royal blood in veins, for Pete’s sake!” Dean said.
“That may be, but that royal blood isn’t doing him any good right now,” Dr. Andrews pointed out.
“So what can we do for him?” Dominic asked.
“Nothing. He will eventually die,” the doctor said.
“What?” Dean blurted. He was almost in tears as Sally grabbed him and pulled him out of the room, consoling him on the way.
“There must be something that can be done,” Dominic said.
“We both know the effect that ‘Deadman’s Blood’ has on both vampires and humans, for that matter. The consequences of draining someone beyond death are high,” the doctor admitted.
“But I swear to you, Blake’s not that kind,” Dominic argued.
“He’s right,” Josh said. “I lived with him for several weeks. He was very discreet about his blood diet. The only reason I know he partakes in blood is that he told me before I accidentally found his stash of blood in a fridge out in the garage. He advised me not to go in that fridge because that’s where he and Devon kept their supply. He told me that since they had been living with Rowan and Darby, they had completely stopped feeding on humans and were receiving their sustenance from baggies of blood. Rowan even teased him about it. She said they should put it in little boxes like juice so no one would know what they were drinking.”
“Well, I don’t know how else one gets ‘Deadman’s Blood’ poisoning without having killed someone, but I’m quite sure that’s what’s killing him,” the doctor said.
“So why isn’t he awake?” Melanie asked.
“He’s in a coma. That’s his body’s way of shutting itself down to minimum, so it can try and heal itself. In this case, it’s not working,” the doctor explained.
“So you’re saying he’s not ever going to wake up,” a sad voice said from behind Dominic.
Dominic turned swiftly to find a drowsy Rowan sitting on her cot. He saw the tears coming fast and he swooped down, embracing her and holding her to his chest. Dominic stroked her hair slowly as she wept. Dominic looked to Dr. Andrews, imploring with his eyes. “Please, Tony. There must be something we can do. Please,” Dominic pleaded.
“I’ll make some calls and do some research, but I can’t guarantee we’ll find anything,” the doctor said.
“I’m not asking for guarantees, Tony. I just don’t want my nephew to die knowing I didn’t try everything and anything I could,” Dominic said.
“I understand. I’ll get back to you; in the interim, I’ll order another transfusion,” the doctor said.
“Thank you, Tony.”
The doctor tried to smile as he left the room. Josh and Melanie thought maybe they should let Dominic and Rowan have a little time alone with Blake so they went to check on Dean and Sally.
*****
Anton pulled up to the curb at the airport and helped Anne and Richard deposit their bags to the curb.
“Well, Anton. Thanks for everything and please relay our thanks to your father too,” Richard said as he extended his hand for a shake.
“Truly, it was our pleasure, Richard. I’m sure this will become a regular thing, if my father has anything to say abou
t it,” Anton said, shaking his hand.
Anne wrapped her arms around Anton and hugged him hard. “You come and visit us, now. You’re family now, whether you like it or not. Take care of my Josh. He seems very fond of you. He always wished he had a big brother, and I couldn’t have picked a better one to fill those shoes. Thank you for entertaining us while your father was gone; I’m sure it was a big bore hanging with us old folks, but we appreciate it.”
“It wasn’t a bore. I enjoyed myself. Thank you. I’ll do my best to keep Josh from trouble. I too, had always wanted a brother, so I feel quite blessed to have him,” Anton said.
Anne gave him a big kiss on the cheek, waved goodbye as they collected their luggage, and headed inside the terminal. Anton got in the car and drove away.
“He’s a good kid, don’t you think?” Anne said as they stood in line to check their luggage and receive their boarding passes.
“Yeah. I think so. They all seem like really good people,” Richard said as he pulled his license out and handed his ticket to the lady behind the counter. “I think Josh is in good hands. I do hope we get to visit with the Larsens now and again.”
“Me too. And Melanie is a sweetheart. I’m so glad they found each other. She’s done a lot of good for Josh introducing him to Blake and...oh shoot, I forgot to tell Anton to send our best to Blake for a speedy recovery.”
“I’m sure he knows we hope that,” Richard said, slipping his shoes off and emptying his pockets in front of a conveyor belt in security.
“I suppose, but I think you should call Josh and at least leave a message before we get on the plane,” Anne said while collecting her things at the other end of the x-ray machine.
“Of course, Dear, but can I put on my shoes first?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Richard Irwin Brenner,” Anne said as they walked to the gate.
“Why is it you always use my full name when you are irritated with me?” Richard asked.
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