by Ruby Raine
“I’m fine, Michael.”
“I know you’re not.”
“What do you want me to do?” she snapped back. “Fall to pieces, day after day after day. You’re right. I’m not okay. But I can’t deal with not okay right now. And you can’t deal with how I really feel.”
“So you are holding back because of me?”
She escaped his grasp, refusing to say more, her emotions stirring and struggling to keep themselves in.
“Emily. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push, I just...”
She paused, but didn’t look at him.
“This is new territory for me too,” he told her. “I won’t lie and pretend being around all this pain is easy, because it’s far from it. It’s testing my strength to the limit. But I can take it, Emily. You need to let your feelings out, you can’t hold them in.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Or think about it,” she responded less hotly. “I want dinner. A bath. And bed.”
Michael followed after a minute. It couldn’t keep going on like this though. He was a candle burning at both ends. If he could just get the emotional gates to open, perhaps she’d let it all out. It was disconcerting having no idea what was going on in her mind.
He supposed that’s how everyone else felt all the time. How he used to, before getting his gift. But he was used to knowing. And used to his girlfriend sharing. She wasn’t the type to hold back, at least not like this. But none of them had ever gone through anything like this.
He sighed... he needed William. They all needed William. He’d chosen the worst time to leave them. Michael’s heart filled with guilt; the vampire deserved better. But his advice right now would be invaluable. He always had the best advice to offer. Seemed to have the answer to almost anything and if he didn’t, where to find it. And if he could not find it, the tenacity to keep searching.
His father’s advice would be pretty awesome right about now too. Maybe more so than William’s in this case being that it was girlfriend problems, something a bit more up his dad’s knowledge bracket than the vampire’s.
Charlie was busy keeping things around the Isle in check, and worrying about Melinda, who was barely keeping herself together. His brother was also not the one for advice on the relationship subject. His dealings with females was limited to the kind who only wanted one thing: a fun time with no strings attached after.
Michael decided to give Emily a little more time. Try not to push too hard. But if she didn’t open up and let her emotions out soon, he’d be forced to seek out some kind of professional help. The only problem being, finding someone who was familiar with the true nature of The Demon Isle so they’d understand and not think her crazy.
Heck, maybe they needed to find this magical someone and hire them permanently, for each of them. This life left scars behind. The kind none of them were trained to heal.
THE MOTORCYCLE ROLLED along of its own volition. Riley was aware, and yet not. Almost letting the road carry him wherever it chose to. He passed a sign, Welcome to Louisiana.
I guess that’s where I’m going.
He wanted to pretend he wasn’t feeling it. That familiar tug in his core that made him need to be places. But it was there, dragging him along. Like some inner force he could not control, or stop, or deny.
What good was this ability?
No good.
No good at all.
It had brought him nothing but strife.
He’d never done anything truly important because of it.
Other than saving Melinda from drowning.
Just so you could treat her in the exact manner you swore you’d never do. Like dirt. No, worse than dirt. Like trash to be crushed, trampled on, and thrown away.
Whatever.
Not going back to the Isle anyway. She and the vampire can live happily ever after. He’d probably slit my throat on sight.
Hell, I should let him after what I did.
Thoughts of Melinda warmed him, even if he didn’t want them to. It wasn’t a warmth he deserved. He’d never be able to make up for what he’d done. He didn’t want to look into her eyes and see pain or loathing staring back at him; things he’d caused. But when he closed his own this is all he saw. Misery swimming in baby blue.
So here he was, letting his ball and chain of a gift drag him down the road to the unknown. He was fine with that as long as once he arrived, he no longer needed to be Riley Deane. He wanted to be anyone else, but.
Another sign. Fifty-nine miles to New Orleans. That thing in his core that he despised, tingled softly. His destination was another hour’s drive ahead.
A few car lengths behind him rolled along a rented vehicle. A dark red, sporty two-door with tinted windows. But Riley was so focused on the road ahead, he hadn’t noticed the car had been following him for many miles.
Whenever Riley pulled off for gas, a minute later so followed the red car. When he drove back onto the highway it ambled along at a safe distance behind him. This pattern had continued the last few days.
But Riley did not notice.
A WASTE OF TIME.
That’s what their previous night had been.
Emily had insisted Michael go with his siblings as they hunted for the vampire responsible for killing two tourists. He hadn’t wanted to leave her alone at the mansion, but they did have better security now. Between the gargoyles and new protections Charlie had cast.
They’d searched long into the night, doing an island wide patrol, but found no vampire. Which wasn’t surprising being that they moved so much faster than humans. It could have been following them all night long and they’d have had no idea. Charlie didn’t think so, confident his werewolf senses would have picked up on it.
If they couldn’t luck out and happen across the vampire during a patrol, or come up with a different scenario other than using themselves as bait, fast, an innocent was going to die. Mack might even have to take more drastic measures, like enforce a curfew... yeah, that wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention when a tourist town closed up shop early due to a serial murderer on the loose!
Charlie hated to admit it, but Melinda was most likely correct in her assumptions. She was perfect vampire bait. But putting his sister’s life at risk was more than he could offer right now. If this situation went on too long, they’d start getting desperate, and have no choice. There had to be another way.
This only made him continue the vamp search throughout the night, hoping by some off chance they’d startle the thing mid-blood-suck.
The entire night, Michael and Melinda worried that Charlie would get hurt, but he insisted the Guardian ring would protect him from a vampire bite. His siblings were not as sure about this, but gave up arguing. In the end, they’d stuck together, deciding separating would be a bad idea. And drove the jeep down every cobblestone street in town, and dark road out of town.
But no vampire.
Nothing out of the ordinary at all.
They had a few vials of werewolf blood stored in the jeep’s dashboard, gifted from Charlie’s own veins, to use against the vampire should they find it. But come time to call it quits the vials were still in the dash, unused.
They’d given up an hour before sunup, each struggling to stay awake. However, once home, Charlie didn’t even bother crawling into bed. He watched his brother and sister do so, looking beaten, and made his way to William’s study. As tired as he was physically, his thoughts would not relent. His brain refused to shut down and rest.
He plunked down behind William’s desk, the chair rolling back a little.
“Maybe the murdering vamp will decide to up and leave the Isle,” he mumbled to himself. “Yeah, because we’re that lucky...” he argued.
He stared at the desk, the books, around the room, wishing some of William’s knowledge would rub off on him. Charlie needed some way to track the vampire without using his sister as bait... his head flicked upward. Ears honing in on an unfamiliar sound outside the mansion. Silver flashed through hi
s eyes and a low growl swam around his throat. Invisible hackles went up on his back... danger. Something dangerous was close. And the gargoyles were on the move, chasing an intruder.
Charlie raced out of the house, bounded off the porch and landed in a focused crouch, his gaze scrutinizing the front of the house. Muscles bulged and tensed, all his wolf senses in full awareness.
The sounds of the gargoyles in pursuit awakened the rest of the house. Footsteps came thundering down the stairs inside, plodding across the porch and came to a stop next to Charlie.
“What is it?” Michael stuck a firm pose, palm raised for attack. Or defense. Whatever was necessary.
“Not sure. Gargoyles caught onto something.”
Melinda and Emily made it to the porch, both with bare feet. Melinda with a thrown on tank and shorts, Emily pulling a light robe around a short nightdress.
Charlie ordered them to wait on the porch.
Emily plucked at her bottom lip with nervous fingers.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” stammered Melinda. Her heart pounded madly as they waited, having been jolted awake minutes after drifting off to sleep. Her heart beat off rhythm needing something to shock it back to normal speed.
One of the gargoyles jaunted through the front yard toward the side of the house, Charlie and Michael ran after it. Far too many pulse-pounding minutes later, Charlie and Michael stalked back around the corner, their gazes hardened.
One of the gargoyles was behind them. It snorted upon seeing Melinda, and she grinned, recognizing it as the one who’d taken a liking to her. It was also the one she and Lucas had followed into White Pines before getting captured by the Feyk.
Too bad they can’t smell a trap, and don’t fight. It wasn’t their fault though; it wasn’t in their nature. They sense the supernatural, more specifically, evil. And she couldn’t stay mad at the thing when it came up and nuzzled its broad head against her side. It scampered off after a quick head pat, to join the other three.
Michael darted up the porch stairs to comfort Emily, her pallor queasy looking.
“What was it?”
“No idea. The gargoyles were chasing after something, but I guess that something left.”
“They didn’t leave any tracks behind,” reported Charlie. “And one of the gargoyles left the property to follow whatever it was, but came back a minute later so I guess it lost the scent.”
“There aren’t many things in the supernatural world that can move fast enough to outrun a gargoyle,” Melinda lamented.
“Still doesn’t mean it was William.” Charlie refused to believe it.
“No. But it was a vampire, wasn’t it?” she forced him to admit.
“Can’t be sure, but seems most likely.” He refused to outright admit it was a vampire, still stubbornly unwilling.
“But why?” questioned Emily. “You guys already know it’s on the Isle. Why come here?”
“Perhaps the vamp is not aware we know,” suggested Michael. “Or maybe they do, and they’re just playing with us. Taunting us.”
“What if it is William and he got scared off?” Melinda whispered. “What if he was trying to come home? And Get help?”
“Whatever the reason, or whoever it is, we’re safe here,” reminded Charlie. “Let’s go back inside.” He didn’t feel safe at all. Even with the gargoyles, and extra magical protections he’d put on the house, it wasn’t enough. His head cocked to the side, eyes pinching into a frown.
“What?” asked Michael.
“Um, just, the gargoyles picked up on something, obviously. But the magical protections I put up. None of those stopped the thing from getting onto the property. Or set off the alarm.” He’d set up a system that tied into an actual regular old house alarm system he’d installed, changing the function with the help of a few spells, so it would go off whenever something supernatural came onto the grounds.
“Which means?” Melinda questioned.
Charlie groaned out his answer. “The protections I put up were to stop supernatural beings from sneaking onto the grounds. I hoped it would scare them away if they heard our alarm system go off. But I just realized I made a huge mistake. It doesn’t cover any of us living here, the gargoyles, or vampires... I didn’t want the thing setting off every time we made a move in our own home. And well, William... I put the protections in place before I knew he’d left.”
“Or was a potential suspect,” murmured Melinda.
Charlie shrugged in exhausted approval.
“So I guess this means our intruder was a vampire,” Michael concluded.
“Yeah. Potentially witches could get through, as we’re witches and that’s a tricky protection to set up, but witches don’t move that fast,” sighed Charlie, caving to the truth of the matter.
“William would not sneak onto these grounds,” insisted Melinda. “He has no need to. He’d show himself.”
They all wanted to believe this true. Desperately. But her brothers did not argue or agree.
“I’ll make some coffee,” decided Melinda. There was no going back to sleep at this point. Golden sunbeams were beginning to peek over the horizon.
“Make two pots,” grumbled Michael. “Hell, let’s just start bathing in it. Maybe it’ll soak into our veins.”
“I don’t think there’s enough coffee to handle this day. Drinking or bathing in it.” Charlie did not follow them inside. He stayed out in the yard, lingering at the front of the house. The sky was getting lighter, which meant with dawn approaching the vampire would go into hiding.
“Unless it really is William,” he muttered. William still had the daylight potion working for him. “It can’t be him.” He shook his head. This vampire was only attacking at night. Although, it made no sense for any vampire to attack during the day as it was so much easier to get caught.
Charlie looked around, knowing that he’d have to come up with some extra precautions to secure the mansion, even if it meant keeping William away as well. But it would take time, which he did not have enough of.
MICHAEL ESCORTED EMILY to the bookstore again. Melinda joined them this time. She’d run out of coffee, gotten lazy, and voted against brewing another pot. Plus it had been too long since she’d visited Grace at the café.
A few days had passed, with no new dead bodies found, and no signs of the vampire during patrols across the Isle, and no more attempts to come onto the Howard’s property. Charlie was working on additional security, but hadn’t fully implemented anything yet.
Perhaps they’d get lucky and the vamp would leave. Go somewhere else.
The entire walk from the mansion to the coffee shop was long, tedious, and uncomfortable. Michael tried to engage Emily in conversation. She replied with one or two word answers, or shrugs, or nods. Her few days of trying to pretend that things were normal, or like any other day, had ended.
After the attempt to infiltrate the Howard grounds a few nights before, Emily had gotten more distant. Almost cold in a way. No longer able to fake a smile, or greeting. Just going through the motions of her day as if not fully present. Michael tried, time and time again, to get her to talk to him rather than shut down, but she refused. Or answered in short sentences meant to end the conversation.
Melinda had never seen her brother so disheveled and worn out. He wasn’t taking care to make sure every hair was in its perfect place. He wasn’t even shaving every day, not that his facial hair grew fast but there was a shadow where there’d never been one before. Purplish shadows sunk in under his eyes from lack of sleep.
Emily wasn’t faring much better. Her face looked a bit gaunt. And her eyes, vacant. She almost went straight by the Wicked Muddy Café without even noticing where she was.
“Emily,” called out Michael, twice. She stopped and realized where they were, said nothing and stared at the front door.
“Just get me a coffee, would you?”
“You won’t come in?” Michael tossed back.
She shook her head and sank into an open s
eat at a table outside.
“Crème horne?”
“Just coffee.”
Michael frowned, but nodded.
Melinda tapped his shoulder. “Why don’t I go in and you sit with Emily.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Sis.”
She watched him take the seat next to his girlfriend. Emily didn’t give him any notice. And it was killing him a little more each day. Melinda feared the reason Emily was growing so distant, but did not dare say it to her brother. She had a terribly suspicious feeling it wasn’t just his empathic side keeping Emily’s feelings all locked up. It wasn’t that she feared overloading him, although Melinda was sure Emily didn’t want that either.
No. These things mattered too, but they would not keep Emily holding onto her emotions so closely, for so long. She was guarded. Hiding something. Melinda recognized it from within herself having done it so many times. And what Emily was hiding Melinda had no clue, other than it had to be something she unequivocally did not want Michael to find out. And when it came out into the open, which is would at some point, her brother was going to break. Emily was going to break. And inevitably, Emily and Michael would break.
The question that remained, would they be able to piece themselves back together? It was difficult to watch. But Melinda could not judge either of their actions harshly. They were coping the best they could. Trying to protect the other, and neither doing what they really needed to do.
Melinda stepped inside the café only to freeze to the spot for a moment as the place went silent, every eye landing on her. She took a hard swallow, having forgotten what it was like to be The Demon Isle’s weird girl who everyone always stared at.
“Oh come off it now!” Grace grumbled gruffly from behind the counter.
“Sorry,” one of them called out. It was Freddy Collier, an older man who as a young boy had gotten himself into some supernatural trouble in the Isle’s lighthouses. “We’re happy to see ya is all.”
The rest nodded and greeted kindly.
