by Ruby Raine
“A dream?” His brow furrowed, his emerald eyes darkened with uncertainty. “Was it... was it a prophetic dream?” It was the first time Melinda ever heard the slightest stammer when he spoke.
“Um,” she stalled, petrified to answer him. “I don’t think so.” It came out more like a question and not a definite no-way-in-hell, which was the answer she was certain William prayed to hear. Meaning, he must not have any personal feelings for you and is put off by the thought, so get over it.
His mouth opened to speak, but closed. His tongue befuddled.
Melinda’s face burned hot. Blood rushed, turning her cheeks a deep shade of red.
“I don’t think it was prophetic, William. But I can’t honestly say I’m totally sure about that.”
A slight note of relief returned to the vampire’s gaze.
“Sorry, William. I can’t help what I dream. More than anything, it got me thinking about you differently. I’m sorry it even happened. I’ve put it out of my mind.” Well, not really, but I’m trying like hell. It wasn’t the first time in the previous months she’d thought of him as more than a school girl crush. But she wasn’t ready to admit that to him, just yet. This conversation was awkward enough already.
William was at a loss for words.
He realized that the glimpse of what he’d seen in her mind had not been her thoughts or desires, but an actual dream. One minute he’d been in the kitchen of the Howard Mansion, his arms embracing her naked flesh, fingers diving into her secrets, fangs drawing against her skin. And in a flash, they were floating on a bed of white across a vast sea that went on for miles. Just the two of them. Skin against skin. The taste of her lips. The sounds, the movements...
He wished he could go back and tell himself not to drop his guard, not to enter her mind. Now, there was no way to get these visions, these dreams, out of his thoughts. The more the memories drummed through his head, the fact it was a dream made the situation worse. Much worse. What if Melinda did have a prophetic dream? His gaze froze on the vein pulsing blood into her cheeks.
He closed his eyes with a silent groan, wondering how he would ever get the memory of her dreams out of his mind. Were all her dreams so vivid, and lifelike? Or had he been a vampire for such a long time he’d forgotten what it was like to dream? This was an extreme possibility. Regardless, forgetting them was not possible unless he found some way to scrape them out of his mind.
He frowned. Intense and lifelike set aside, they could not be prophetic dreams. The bed of white surrounded by a vast sea, it made no logical sense. It had to be a regular dream and nothing more.
“William,” Melinda called out.
It sounded distant, his mind far away. He opened his eyes to see her baby blues drenched in too many emotions to capture just one.
“Sorry, Melinda. My mind was... wandering.” That was putting it lightly.
“I didn’t think you were capable of letting your mind wander.” Her mouth twitched into a weak smile.
“It is a rare occurrence.”
Her cheeks flushed. She had no idea what was going on in the vampire’s mind, and he didn’t seem to want to share, other than being vague.
“Are we okay, William?” Apprehension rained heavy on her lips. “I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us. You’re my best friend. I don’t think I could stand it if we can’t be like we’ve always been.”
William smiled. Not his wide grin. Not his easy going, everything is perfect, grin.
A strained, crooked grin, that claimed, yes, we’re okay.
She didn’t think he believed it any more than she did.
Melinda sighed, more confused than ever. She did not know what his reactions meant. Did he have feelings for her? Did it matter if he did? She was pretty confident that no matter the answer, the outcome was the same.
“Melinda,” William began. “We are fine. I only needed to be clear about where I stand. You’re a beautiful young woman, and I’m certain in time you’ll find the right man for you.” It is not me. It can never be me. He hoped she understood this silent message as he found the words too difficult to say aloud.
Melinda nodded. Yup. As she expected. The outcome was definitely the same either way. But Melinda still had no idea if William felt anything more for her than just normal friendship, or was speaking purely about her own feelings toward him.
She toyed with telling him about Riley but held off. Perhaps one awkward and far too serious conversation was enough for one day. Serious. Deanes. The reason she’d raced home.
“Oh my God! William, I need to talk to you, Charlie, and Michael like, right now! I almost forget. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to shorten our talk, but I just found out something you guys need to know. That’s why I came home actually.”
He motioned for her to go ahead. “I’ll be right down.”
She tossed him a shy smile and headed down to the kitchen.
A MIXTURE OF RELIEF and agony stirred in William’s chest. Perhaps he should have left the Isle. He had come close. He’d made up his mind it was the smart decision. The safe decision. But the truth was, he could not bring himself to do it.
The Howards needed him. He had a duty to fulfill.
Yes. You keep telling yourself that little white lie.
He’d simply have to keep his feelings in check. He could never allow another moment like last night to happen. Ever. And one like in her dream? He shuddered.
No. Just... no. He could be her friend, her confidant as always, but keep an unclimbable wall between them.
He made his way down the stairs to see Charlie and Michael coming in from the yard in the back. They were covered in splotches of dirt from head to toe.
“We were planting and weeding in the garden and greenhouse,” Michael explained.
Emily hopped across the room and planted a kiss on his lips.
“Wants me even when I’m covered in dirt.” He nipped at her nose.
“You’re even more handsome covered in dirt. Planting a garden is totally hot.”
“Seriously! You're playing right to his ego,” Melinda gagged. “More important things to discuss, anyway,” she reminded Emily.
“Right, of course.” She backed away.
“What’s up?” Michael washed up at the sink. He shook his head and sighed before Melinda answered. “You’re drenched in freaking out.”
“Is that even a real... never mind?” Melinda shot him a nasty glare for using his empathic ability on her. “Anyway, there’s a good reason I’m in freak out mode.” There were many actually, but only one they needed to know right now.
“What is it?” urged Charlie, sounding overly eager. “Whatever it is, I can take care of it.”
“It is not exactly a taking-care-of-it type situation, Charlie. More like a something we need to be aware of and watch out for, situation.”
“I can still handle it.” Charlie clapped his hands together. “Just tell me what you need done.”
“What is up with you today?” Melinda put her hands on her hips, amused by her brother's behavior. He looked nearly ready to jump out of his seat.
“He’s been like this all morning,” muttered Michael with an eye roll.
“Sorry.” Charlie cleared his throat, forcing himself to sit down. “Didn’t sleep last night, but I am wired this morning. Ready to try on my new life I guess. Speaking of my new life,” he lifted his hand, nodding toward the black ring on his finger, gifted from the Guardian, Nina. “As I said, I didn't sleep last night, so I had plenty of time to think about some things.”
“Um, okay,” shrugged Melinda, now sidetracked.
Charlie gazed at her and Michael. “I have decided that I don't want the two of you on the front lines anymore. I have the ring now. I'm protected. You guys are not.”
“I don't know as that's your decision,” Michael argued. “And sometimes, there is no choice.”
“And how is this new?” Melinda pointed out. “You've sort of always taken lead Charlie.” She gla
nced at William for backup.
“While I may agree with what Melinda and Michael are saying, I have to agree more with Charlie,” William spoke evenly. Before any argument broke out, William clarified his stance. “If it is a situation Charlie can manage, I suggest we allow this. He has protection, you two do not. There is no need to take unnecessary risks.”
Charlie nodded firmly in agreement.
“Fine. Whatever,” Melinda caved. “Still more important things to discuss anyway.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” said Charlie. “What's up?”
Melinda inhaled deeply and upon exhaling, she revealed, “The Deanes are back on The Demon Isle.”
“Oh,” stammered Charlie.
“What do you mean, back?” It wasn’t sinking into Michael’s head yet.
“I mean back. Like living here again. I don’t know how many of them there are. Grace met two of them this morning when they came into her café for coffee. She said they talked about coming up to the house and meeting us. Face to face.”
“No Deane will step foot inside this house!” determined Charlie. He stood up as if this somehow made his statement more serious.
“What he said.” Michael nodded for added agreement. “Dark magic and Deanes go hand in hand.”
Melinda looked to William for his opinion.
The vampire’s eyes darkened and a look of bitterness flitted across his face, which just as quickly turned blank and emotionless. “I am not certain how to feel about this. The Deanes have been gone for many years.”
Anger rippled through Charlie, his chest heaving with each raspy breath he exhaled. He set his jaw, narrowing his eyes in contempt. How could William not know how to feel? Deanes are evil. Period. It did not matter how many years had passed.
“I admit,” continued William, “it brings up many painful memories. At the same time, I cannot help but wonder if this is what the Guardian, Nina, spoke of? Is this one of the battles to come? Or perhaps... perhaps we are passing judgment too soon. Perhaps they have chosen not to follow in their ancestors' footsteps. The fact that they are willing to show up at the front door of the Howard family to introduce themselves is worth discussing.”
“I’m sorry.” Charlie’s voice fumed with distrust. “I don’t think I can accept the Deanes being back, or that they come in peace.” His voice started to shake with anger. “And you of all people, William. You were here when it happened, when they battled the Howards for control of The Demon Isle. They killed three of us that day. Plus a slew of others that came to our aid.”
A low snarl slipped through the vampire's lips. His eyes tightened in indignant remembrance. “I recall quite clearly what was lost that day.” William spoke sharply as if insulted by the unneeded reminder.
His cutting sharpness caught the siblings off guard. They dared not speak.
William turned to leave spitting out, “I must think on this,” and dashed out of the mansion in a flash.
That’s the second time in twenty-four hours he’s done that. Melinda felt terrible that she’d been the cause of the first occurrence.
“Good one, Charlie,” rebuked Michael. “Piss off the vampire.”
“William is just upset,” Melinda insisted. “It was a tragic time for him.”
“A time in which the Howard line was almost wiped out,” reminded Charlie. “I will not allow that to happen again.”
“And we all agree with you. But we do need William for this,” Michael said.
“He'll be back soon,” Charlie said, not worried about their mentor. “Even vampires need to blow off steam now and again.”
“Just try to be a bit more sensitive,” Melinda suggested. “Or has that ring suddenly stripped you of that ability?”
“I wasn't trying to be harsh. I just refuse to believe the Deanes being back on the Isle can be a good thing. No matter what William thinks, or has lived through in the past.”
Melinda had no argument to that point.
Emily shook with a sudden chill. Michael whisked to her side, rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms. “We're freaking you out, aren't we? There's no reason to be afraid. It's just such shocking news.”
“But you've told me the stories, Michael, and if the Deanes haven't changed, there is reason to be afraid.”
Melinda scoffed in a huff. “You mean how the Deanes were once the dearest friends and allies of the Howard family, and how they started dabbling in dark magic, which infected them, turning them evil. Then they betrayed their friends by murdering them...”
Michael attempted poorly to ignore the feelings of confusion and anger swirling off his siblings and girlfriend. “We should probably warn Mack. She’ll prefer to hear this news from us. Still can’t believe Grace found out before we did.”
They all rolled their eyes at that. It did suck to have missed this though and have to learn about it second hand. They needed to be more on the ball with local news.
“Will you call Mack, Michael?” Charlie didn’t wait for a response, bounding off his stool and up the stairs to his bedroom.
His head in a daze, he stripped down, leaning his muscular arms against the bathroom sink, staring into the mirror. He didn’t bother shaving. It would just grow back by the end of the day anyway.
His mind raced with a hundred thoughts, none very coherent but each having to do with the Deanes. He spun around and turned on the shower, waiting until it was steamy hot to slip under the water. The heat would have scalded any normal person. But it was perfect for Charlie’s wolf warmed skin.
It did nothing to relax him though.
Why was it he always thought a hot shower, or a cold one, would ever help him with whatever mood he was in? It never did.
He gave up, hopping out, and threw on some shorts and a tank top. He leapt down the stairs and stepped onto the front porch. From this vantage point, he could peer down over the bustling streets of the main town, but also up to the opposite side of town, where dilapidated turrets poked out of the treetops. The Deane Manor.
Could they not get a break? They hadn’t even had time to sit down and have a family meeting to discuss how to find their father. He aimed a snarl toward the Deane Manor, his eyes a fury of silver. Whatever it took, he would not allow another massacre at the hand of the Deanes.
“MACK WAS JUST AS SURPRISED as we were,” Michael said upon hanging up the phone after a long chat with the sheriff. “Someone had told her they’d seen movement up at the old Deane place, but she had no idea it was actually Deanes.”
“Well there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it right now.” Melinda decided to put the worry out of her mind for the time being. “Besides, our focus should be on finding Dad. We'll just have to deal with the Deanes, later.” As she spoke, her eyes grazed the clock on the kitchen wall. Another hour until her date with Riley. A ripple of butterflies started in her throat, working their way downward.
Michael frowned, about to question her when Emily sidetracked him. “Do you have time to give me a ride home, Michael? I promised Dad I would have lunch with him today. You could join us,” she urged.
Stupid empathic ability Melinda’s mind rambled. Could she keep nothing private?
“Ride, sure, of course. Anything for the woman who loves me covered in dirt.” He sucked in sharply. “I can’t do lunch though, sorry.”
“Plans?” asked Emily.
“Yeah. Eva Jordan called me this morning, to see if I’d like to have lunch at her place, to meet her father.”
“Oh, right. Anthony Jordan.”
“Author of The Modern Day Guide to the Supernatural,” finished Michael. “Too bad you have to meet your dad. Why not just come with me, meet a famous author,” he enticed. “Well, more like infamous,” he restated.
“I hate to disappoint Dad, but I really would love to meet Mr. Jordan.”
“I’d like to see just how much he really knows,” Michael said. “His book is thorough, and with no magical ties that we know of I'm curious how he gathers his informati
on, and very curious to find out what he knows about the Isle.”
Emily leaned in and kissed him. “Handsome and curious. My kind of man.”
“I’m totally being a geek right now, huh?”
“A very, very handsome one though.”
Melinda helped Emily pick up her bags, handing Michael a few to carry for her.
“Thanks,” she mouthed to Emily.
“Good luck,” Emily mouthed back, trying not to grin.
“You know what, Michael?” decided Emily. “I'll call Dad. He won’t mind if I miss lunch. I can always have dinner with him instead.”
“That would be perfect. I can join you for dinner, too.”
Emily stopped and looked him in the eye. “Are you trying to keep me in your sight for a reason? Are you afraid I might run into a Deane or something?”
“Nah,” he played it off, waving his hands around as if she were crazy. “Just hate to take away from your time with me.”
“Intriguing theory,” she muttered, as they loaded her packages into the jeep.
It was only in part, the Deane problem. It was much more that every time he let her out of his sight lately, it seemed like she was getting into some kind of supernatural trouble. He wanted to keep her close, and safe, today. An uneventful day, having lunch with an author and paranormal researcher he was excited to meet.
MELINDA RACED UP THE stairs to her room, dumping the contents of her shopping bags onto her bed. “Which one? Which one?” She stood in front of a full-length mirror, draping dress after dress in front of her body. She finally decided on a light beige one, which she slipped over her head. The dress nearly disappeared against her creamy skin. It was perfectly fitted across her chest, flowing out slightly at the waist, and stopped a couple inches above her knees. A single strap tied it securely around her neck.
She let out a doubtful breath upon seeing her full image in the mirror. “I’m really going to step outside dressed like this? There’s nothing to this thing. I’m so... naked. How did Emily talk me into buying this?”
