by Ruby Raine
“So how can I help them? If I can’t tell them, and can’t interfere?”
“Be there to lead. Be there to live and show by example. Teach them. Knowledge is key to wisdom.”
“Who are they? How do I find them?”
“They have only recently come into your lives,” she noted cautiously.
He thought for a moment, his dumbfounded gaze fixing on hers.
“Seriously? The Deane’s? Riley and Lucas?”
“Yes, Charlie.” Her tone took on desperation. Something he’d never heard from her before. “We need them on our side. We must do everything within our power to not let them fail.”
“Wait, are all Deane’s...”
“No. It’s not the Deane blood in them that makes them Guardians. It’s not their father. It’s their mother’s blood.”
“This is why they ended up on the Isle, isn’t it?”
“A simple nudge when the moment was right.” A nudge that almost went very wrong, she kept to herself. “But in the end, their choice to go. Their life must be their own. We are hopeful with the right guidance, with good people surrounding them, they will make it. We cannot lose a single life more to evil.” Nina’s voice filtered out to nothing for a moment. “It’s time, Charlie. I have to go. My human life is ready.”
“How can they let you go? If your numbers are dwindling, why did they let you sacrifice yourself for me when they so clearly need you?”
“It has always been the way. Every few hundred years we are reborn into a human form so we can experience life. Understand it. And therefore, better protect it once we take up Guardianship again. I am the last though. After my rebirth, this process will be suspended, indefinitely.”
“I... what... why...” so many questions burned up, unanswered.
“Farewell, Charlie. Live well. Live fully. Live freely.”
“I love you, Nina.” It slipped out of his mouth. It wasn’t romantic love. But unconditional and of the greatest respect.
“And I love you, Charlie.”
He reached out and touched her cheek, the warm glow around her getting darker, her form dematerializing slowly.
“Thank you,” he told her. “For everything, Nina.”
“Whatever happens, don’t give up on love. You will need it. Charlie,” she called out, her voice distant. “There’s a trial coming that will test you to your limit. And by no fault of your own, the war will begin. It cannot be stopped.” Her silhouette faded, her voice dissolving like velvet washing out to sea. Charlie said nothing. Just stared out across the ocean, into the patches of fog, her words sinking in.
This last warning had come out of her almost like she wasn’t supposed to tell him. Had she broken some rule? Did it matter? Was it true that the war was about to begin and there was no way to prevent it from starting?
What was the point then?
If there was no stopping it?
It was all in the winning or losing of it, he assumed wretchedly.
Charlie plunked down in his chair on the boat deck, Nina’s presence, her words, still strong in his mind, but he’d never see her again. There was a finality to the moment. A sureness that their connection was broken, for good.
Damn.
If he’d been overwhelmed before...
So much. So much to take in. Accept. Understand.
So many life changing secrets, so much he had to keep to himself.
His view of the world so instantly and irreversibly changed.
And not only was there some kind of war brewing in the world of the Guardians that would spill out onto the Isle and beyond, but some personal trial headed his way? Like he needed another one of those? Hadn’t he had enough of those lately? Hadn’t they all? It was becoming a daily routine. And shit, a trial bad enough to warrant a special warning?
A sudden urgency sped through his veins.
No matter what he had to face when he got there, it was time.
He needed to go home.
MELINDA STARED DOWN Lizzy Deane.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. I promised to teach you. No sense in putting it off just because...”
“The world is gone to the crapper,” Melinda finished.
“I’d use stronger words. But I can’t do a thing about Grayson until I understand the curse and how to break it, so, yeah. We might as well do this. My father always taught me to be prepared, no matter what. Something I’ve failed at more than once. So really, there’s no better time to do this.”
Melinda got it. Lizzy needed to keep busy or her thoughts would overpower all sense and reason. So here they were, along with a disgruntled looking Lucas, ready to start learning how to become kick ass witches as promised by Lizzy. As desired by Melinda. As begrudgingly accepted by Lucas. And as entertainment for Courtney, who hovered between the Howard kitchen and the basement cell in which Grayson was currently held prisoner, until they figured out how to break the curse and what to do with him.
Michael was out taking care of witch business. Talk about keeping yourself busy or go nuts. After Emily’s hasty departure he’d brooded for a night, and after seeing Charlie wasn’t coming home the next day, had set into finishing the long list of precautions and alarms his brother hadn’t had the time to finish in all the chaos of the Feyk attack, followed by the vampire murders. The house was now magically protected as it could get, and he was out doing the same with the power source in White Pines.
Courtney hovered as they started in the kitchen. She no longer had her witch powers thanks to being turned into a vampire, accidentally, by William. But the newly turned vampire found the instruction interesting and listened in nonetheless, her own stay busy disease in high gear as she tried to embrace her new life, and let go of her old one.
The most difficult part being that she no longer required rest, or sleep, and had far too much free time on her hands. So she kept up to date on the blog she’d started, well, the blog her boss, Nethaniel Dante had wanted. As a way for the islanders to report mysterious sightings and such. It was partially her fault that things got so crazy on the Isle; non-magical folk were constantly searching for proof of the supernatural and she’d almost handed it right over to them in her quest to track that murderous bastard, Stricker.
Sir Tinkham Sickereaux. That weasel of a Feyk who was responsible for the murdering of her coven. His removal from the living was coming soon... a task she would soon be partnering up to do alongside Melinda Howard, once she was ready.
Regardless, she felt responsible for the trouble she’d caused and would do her best to make sure it did not happen again. Once she was able, she might even try to shut down the blog. So far, Mr. Dante had not replaced her as the D.E.S.I. Reporter. The Demon Isle Supernatural Investigator.
So far, since the Feyk had left the Isle, nothing too crazy had been posted to the blog. Nothing that warranted an actual investigation at least. She hoped that stayed the same.
She’d come here under false pretenses in order to track the Feyk, but she was a reporter and had liked the job. So far, her boss believed her missing, or for whatever reason, quitting without notice and fleeing the Isle without collecting a paycheck or her belongings. If she was super lucky, maybe he’d let her come back to work when she was ready. She didn’t have her witch abilities to bewitch him into it though, which is how she’d made sure she was hired in the first place.
Perhaps the Howards would help.
As she thought about it, keeping herself as the D.E.S.I. Reporter might not be such a bad thing. If Mr. Dante was insistent to keep the report, better her in charge than someone else who had no idea the supernatural was real. Or worse, someone who did, and wanted to stir up some trouble.
She’d have to give it some thought as she was not ready to go back to work yet. Being in the public, not a safe thing with her new bloody appetite. And considering they had another much more unsavory vampire locked in the basement, and Charlie was out to sea for a few days, she was more confident sticking cl
ose.
Already, though only days into her life with the Howard Witches, she was protective of them. Especially after learning some of the things they’d gone through these last few years. Hell, these last few months.
They’d suffered a lot of loss, just like her. And when she combined this with her need to get the whole blood hunger under control, being with the Howards was the smart choice. She wasn’t ready to integrate back into normal life yet. That would be a deep dive into easy temptation. Too many living food sources waiting to seduce her to the red side. Just the idea of blood got her nerves a tingle.
But even as a vampire, living with the Howards was almost like joining another coven, if only just for a little while. Helping them gave her something to focus on other than her future, or what she’d lost.
They spent the afternoon with Lizzy instructing them in potion making. Nearing the end of the four-hour-long lesson, she paused, a thoughtful gleam in her eye. The kind that meant she’d just thought of something.
“What?” prodded Lucas.
“Just had an idea. One of those out of the blue possibly wicked brilliant ideas.”
“Like an all over island bomb spell,” beamed Melinda, of one of her previous ideas.
“Better mark it down with the rest of them,” advised Lucas, with an amused smile on his lips. Lizzy was always coming up with some new idea or another.
“Do share,” encouraged Courtney. She’d taken up residence atop one of the kitchen counters.
“Human safe potions. Such a stupidly overdue thing.”
“Is that possible?”
Melinda jumped, startled by the voice. She spun to see her brother Michael in the doorway. She sagged at the sight of him. A shadow of himself. He’d been distant, quiet. Subdued and sad. Somehow getting through the motions and surviving each hour and day.
He’d had no word from Emily. Not one. And it was eating him alive from the inside, out.
“Just finished out at White Pines,” he informed everyone when Lizzy didn’t answer straight away. He was not a fan of silence these days. Too much thinking going on. And too many emotions swinging at him. “No one can get close to the old tree or the power source entrance without us knowing.” He’d wrangled up a temporary alarm system using a concoction of spells and crystals, which were linked to a crystal he lay gently on the kitchen counter. It would light up if anything supernatural, good or evil, got within a one-hundred-foot perimeter of the old tree; the entrance to the power source.
“That’s one deeper breath we can take,” Lizzy reckoned.
Melinda stared at the crystal. “I really hope that thing never lights up.”
“You, me, everyone here and on the Isle, agree, I’m sure,” said Michael. “So what about human safe potions, Lizzy? Is it possible?”
She thought for a moment about the subject before answering Michael. But after a minute, shrugged. “I don’t see why we can’t do it. It would take time, of course. Lots of trial and error. Perhaps there are reasons I’m not aware of as to why it’s never been done. Probably the strength of potions, or...” she trailed off, tapping her fingers on the countertop.
“I’ll help if you want to try,” Michael offered. “It would be nice to know we aren’t accidentally killing non-witches with our potions.” No more replays of their mother’s needless death.
“Yes. I agree,” said Lizzy.
While he sounded eager, Michael’s entire being could only be described as deflated.
“Why don’t we start now?” suggested Melinda.
“And that would be how exactly?” prompted Lucas. Melinda swore his head looked like it was about to explode with all the ingredients and instructions Lizzy had taught them already that day.
“Make a list of all the ingredients we use. Two columns. Poisonous to humans, and non-poisonous. After, start working through each potion and whenever there is a poisonous ingredient, we try to find a human safe equivalent that will work as a replacement.”
“That’s not daunting at all,” Lucas mumbled.
Courtney chuckled. “I like this plan.”
Lizzy handed Lucas a pad of paper. “I’ll let you get started. This will be a good test for both of you,” she also aimed at Melinda. “Test your knowledge.”
Courtney was glad to help, although no longer a witch, she was familiar with many of the things required to make potions. And was all for making them safer to use. She allowed Lucas and Melinda to guess first though, only adding her input after. And was surprised at how much she knew. It both filled her with pride and a dull ache that only intensified. Her coven was the reason she’d learned any of this, and she hadn’t been able to save them.
She focused on the fact that this was a good refresher while helping Melinda learn so she was able to join in the hunt for Stricker. Sooner than later. And even though William had not turned out to be the vampire responsible for killing The Demon Isle tourists, Melinda had decided to keep her word to help Courtney. Stricker was still responsible for so much heartache to so many. He needed to get dead. Like yesterday!
Lizzy joined Michael by the stair leading down into the basement.
“Don’t suppose you got anything out of him?”
Michael shook his head. “Last I spoke to him this morning, still insists he’ll only talk to you.” A meeting Lizzy had not brought herself to do yet. “Something tells me we’re running out of time.” Michael’s tone pushed, lightly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to rush you.”
She waved him off. “No. I can’t delay again. I’ve put it off long enough.” Her toe tensely tapped the floor as she searched for the courage to march down those stairs and into his cell. She’d needed a few days to clear out the romantic fog so she was able to take this job seriously. And not just fall under the spell of Grayson’s charms.
She loved the vampire, Charlie was right about that. But she would not risk additional lives just because of this.
“I think I’m ready to try.” She shook herself. “I need to be ready. This can’t go on.”
“Do you trust him?” Michael had gotten over his tantrum about the Deane’s and Grayson from a few nights ago and apologized to Lizzy and Lucas. But no one blamed him, he’d been upset and exhausted.
“Do I trust he won’t hurt me? Yes. Everything else?” She was unable to say with any certainty one way or the other. “He’s not the same man I knew.” The sad and frightening reality.
“He’s had his daily dose of werewolf blood, so he’s docile enough,” Michael informed her. “Charlie better get his ass home soon though. We’ve only got one more dose left.”
At Charlie’s name, Lizzy’s entire insides quaked in agony. She was part of the reason he was not home. What happened between them had been some final nail in the coffin and he needed some time. Which he did by taking his boat out to sea.
Personally, she was glad he was doing it. But imagined he’d waited until literally the last moment before actually losing his mind. His sense of duty was part of why she loved and respected him so much, so fast, but it was going to kill him if he didn’t take care of himself better.
She started down the stairs. Guess it’s time, can’t keep putting it off... her feet moved on her behalf, but her brain and heart were not in this.
Courtney hovered, giving Michael a curt nod. She was ready to race like the wind to the basement, just in case. Michael stuck around too, giving Lizzy space. But unable to ditch the need to be close since they did not trust Grayson like she did.
His gaze traveled around the kitchen like he was taking a panorama of the view. Lizzy disappearing down the stairs; a groan and a creak as the cell door to Grayson’s prison opened and closed a few seconds later. Courtney hovering nearby, at the ready. Alert to the actions taking place in the basement and yet listening to Lucas and Melinda, who were busy in the kitchen making lists of potions and ingredients. They worked good together.
It was life. In motion.
And yet it was empty. More of a mockery of what it was suppose
d to be.
Not quite truly alive, just getting through the acts. One by one.
Things were getting done though, and that was good. He guessed.
Everyone was doing their best to keep their emotions in check around him, especially the sympathy, but it was still there. No way to hide it all. He didn’t deserve it. No more or less than anyone else. He’d made mistakes. They all had. Now they were paying the price and trying to fix all those things.
Just how he was going to keep surviving through each day with this gigantic crater in his chest, he had no idea, other than keep busy and not think about it. Which was impossible as Emily, and his failures, were the only constant thought at the back of his mind.
He glanced at his phone.
Right. Like it’s any different than five minutes ago.
No message or call from Emily. Regardless, he’d sent his usual text that day. The same one he’d sent the day before, and the day before. And would send again until he’d gotten a reply.
“Emily. Just wanted to tell you how much I miss you. And love you. Always.”
What he hoped she’d actually read is, “Oh my God where are you? Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me you’re coming home. Soon. I love you much it is killing me not knowing where you are, or that you’re okay. Please, if nothing else, just tell me you’re okay.”
But nothing. Not a single response. Like she’d just vanished.
And she did, from his world at least.
They hadn’t gone this long without being in some kind of contact since, well, since never. They’d become instant friends, saw each other every day in high school. And even once Emily went off to college they emailed, and texted, or called every day. Michael even checked in on her father now and again when she feared he might be lying about his health, or needed something he didn’t want to ask for.
And there were these last weeks, after they’d started dating, with her in his bed, or him in her bed.
Followed by the Feyk attack which had brought her into the mansion every night until she’d fled... he’d not left her side for a minute longer than he’d needed to.
