As long as made correctly, and taken every three months, the masking potion allowed William not only to walk in the daylight, but allowed him to live freely, leading an almost normal life.
The potion kept people in the town from realizing he did not age. They just knew him as William Wakefield, longtime friend to the Howard family; one of The Demon Isles founding families.
In addition, four years previously, William had temporarily become guardian of the three siblings after their parents had mysteriously disappeared during a hunting trip into White Pines National Park. A place frequented by many tourists on the Isle. Not that they needed a guardian seeing as Charlie was twenty-two at the time. But the siblings had needed William, and he had been their parent’s longest and most trusted friend.
Some locals believed that the sibling’s parents had befallen some terrible accident, the type usually associated with careless tourists that refused to heed repeated warnings. Like how one misstep on the rocky cliffs might send you plunging to your death, or how fast you could find yourself in trouble when the tide came in and suddenly you’re stuck on the one rock that’s just barely sticking out of the water, or worse, in a cave that now has no exit.
However, a handful of locals were aware of the truth: that hunting meant their parents were searching for The Demon Isle’s magical power source… a source that to this day, had yet to be located; even by the many generations of Howards to have come and gone from the Isle. All the siblings were certain of, is that the search had claimed the lives of their parents, just as it had claimed the lives of numerous Howard Witches before them.
But it was this very power source that the Howard siblings also defended, often putting their own lives on the line to protect. It was what their family had always done: protect the source from being discovered and falling into the wrong hands.
Of equal importance were the incessant attempts by various supernatural beings that came to the Isle in hopes of drawing on that power, or overthrowing the Howards and claiming the Isle for themselves, therefore putting the locals and the tourists in constant danger.
Dangers that newer locals opted to ignore or pass off as strange, but somehow explainable, events. Many, of course, chose to exploit the Isle’s mystical draw, now making it a top vacation spot for fans of the supernatural and paranormal. This only complicated the lives of the siblings as these fans often got more trouble than they bargained for.
Charlie offered again to help clean up the kitchen.
“I can handle it,” Melinda said. “You should get unpacked, maybe take a shower.” She wrinkled her nose at his fishy stench.
“I should have been here to help you.” His voice held guilt as he grabbed half-filled vials and dried herbs, returning them to their cupboards. Melinda didn’t argue, she enjoyed her brother’s company.
“For your knowledge,” she explained after a bit, “I did get out while you were away. I went on a patrol with William.”
“That’s not getting out,” her brother argued.
“Is too.”
“We patrol at night. And patrolling is work.”
“Yes, but there’s sometimes still people around.”
“Work is not a life, Melinda. You need friends. You need to get out and have fun. What about the friends you used to go to school with?” Charlie asked. “That guy you went out with a few months ago…”
Jerkwad, or guy before jerkwad. “They’ve all moved away, gone to college,” she claimed quickly. “And what’s wrong with hanging out with my brothers? Or William? And there’s Emily...”
Charlie snorted. “When she comes to the house to see Michael. I don’t want to push you, Melinda, but like you said earlier, you’re twenty-one. You should be out on the beach, partying, going on dates and getting into trouble.” He thought about that for a minute. “Okay, make that partying lightly but... you get what I mean.”
“I’m trying, Charlie.”
“I know, Kiddo.” He saw the uneasiness in her eyes. “Just keep taking little steps and even though we give you a hard time, screw us! Just go have some fun.”
“Yeah, okay. Fun. It’s my top priority,” she voiced, with fake enthusiasm.
Charlie didn’t push it further.
CHAPTER TWO
Michael got out of the house as fast as possible, making his way toward the café he was sure Emily would be exiting at any minute. She always stopped for coffee and a crème horn on her way to work.
He heard the ding of a door opening and out she stepped. It calmed him immediately, bettering his mood, as Emily emitted brightness and happiness.
“Michael,” she called out upon seeing him. “What are you up to this morning?” Her southern drawl was muffled by the swallowing of coffee.
He caught up to her. “Hi, Em. Thought I’d walk you to work.”
“That’s so sweet of you.” She grinned widely. A grin that shot warmth into his core. She’d done that to him since the day they’d met, just under five years before.
She reached up and tussled his newly cut hair. Not one hair moved against her touch. Each firmly in its place, almost as if Michael had ordered each hair to its position with the threat of punishment if they disobeyed. She chuckled, but told him, “I like it. It’s very you.”
“You think? The stylist almost talked me out of it. She kept running her fingers through my hair, trying to change my mind.”
“That’s just because she thinks you’re hot.” So did every woman on the Isle. Including far too many tourists. And even a few guys… it was hard to rise to the top of the competition for Michael’s affections.
“She did keep me in that chair for a ridiculous amount of time,” he noted.
“Face it, if they’re single and from the Isle… make that, any woman alive that’s stepped foot on the Isle… they want you.”
He wanted to blurt out if that included her as well, but bit his tongue. He didn’t need to ask that question. Her answer screamed at him silently. I’ve always wanted you.
“It suits you well,” Emily said of his new hairstyle. “Truth be told, the shoulder length locks weren’t right for you. And this style makes that baby face you tote around completely irresistible.” Kissable, was what she was really thinking.
He blushed a little. Always did when she flirted with him. He would have liked nothing more than to take hold of her hand and walk her to work, to kiss those peach colored lips until they were swollen. To claim them for his own. But he didn’t.
“It was definitely time for something new,” he told her.
“Well, no girl can resist that face, no matter what your hair looks like.” She played down her flirting. She might have found his face kissable, but she’d never dared. “So what do you have lined up tonight, two dates? Three? One right after the other…”
“Ha. Very funny.” He rolled his eyes as they walked to her store. “Had three dates in one night, one time, almost a year ago and you’re never going to let me live it down, are you? God! That night ended so fucking badly.”
Emily laughed. “Good thing I was around to come to your rescue. I guess it’s my job to remind you and keep you out of trouble.” She winked, toying with him.
She really wished it was her job.
He really wished it was, too.
“Actually, I haven’t been on a date in weeks,” he admitted.
“You? Michael Howard, dateless…”
He chuckled. “Just haven’t been in the mood.”
“Charlie, still?” she questioned knowingly.
He shrugged.
“You’re still arguing I take it.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Charlie got back this morning and I just don’t want to be in the same room as him. Don’t want to talk to him. Don’t want to hear his nagging friggin’ voice, all condescending, because I’m not as into this lifestyle as he is. My brother Charlie… talk about Mr. Perfect, can do no wrong in the eyes of anyone. Everything he says just irritates the shit out of me right now. But hey… enoug
h bitching for one morning. I enrolled in classes,” he announced, ending his tirade and starting a new subject.
“Really? That’s great, Michael.” She gulped, this revelation catching her off guard. She tried to sound excited and upbeat, but Michael knew she was disappointed by this news. Her smile never faded, but he sensed it, the brightness lessened. Her eyes dancing just a little less.
Emily realized she’d given herself away and tore her gaze off him, her cheeks fiery with embarrassment.
“It’s not for a while yet. Summer’s just started really. Fall’s still a ways away.” He hated hurting her. It left a dark pit in his gut.
“I’m really happy for you,” she told him. She meant it. She didn’t want to see him leave the Isle, but she wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. And he wasn’t, here.
“Thanks, Em. So… have you ever thought about going back to college?”
“You know I can’t, Michael. I left because Dad needs me here. And he’s stubborn about moving anywhere else. I really don’t know why that is, but…”
“Sorry. It was dumb of me to even bring it up.” They were at her bookstore. “I guess I’ll see you later, Em.” God damn idiot. That’s what I am. Hurting people. Disappointing people.
These were things he excelled in. By not living up to people’s expectations of him. Expectations he didn’t want to live up to. And never asked for.
“Later, Michael.”
“Yeah, bye. Have a good day at work.”
“Thanks, see ya.” She tossed him another wide smile, and gave her lips a timid pull with her teeth. Lips he’d very much like to wrap his mouth around. And taste, and tug at. Instead, he fled.
She always made him feel bad for wanting to leave the Isle. Not on purpose, and she never once vocalized it. But he saw it in her eyes. Felt the cut of it in her words. Her reactions to him.
But what scared him most, is if there was one thing, one person, that could get him to stay on the Isle, it would be Emily Morgan.
But she would never ask him to stay. Never in a hundred years if she thought it would make him unhappy. She liked to make people happy, thrived on it, almost to a fault. Hell, she lit up the darkest room just by entering it. Everyone loved Emily. Him more so than anyone… Fuck! He could not afford to think like that.
He forced the thought out of his mind. He’d never found the courage to come out and ask her. If she said yes, she did want him to stay, he’d never be able to leave. And he needed to leave. To get off this lame-ass hellhole of an island before he was sucked in so deep he never left. Never explored the world. Like every other Howard that had come before him.
He didn’t want that fate. He didn’t ask for it.
Didn’t he get a say in his life, at all?
He looked up to see William not too far ahead, heading into the mansion. “Potion worked,” he noted. “Good job, Melinda.”
He was going to have to go home and face Charlie. Face whatever this day brought him. Regardless, he was proud of his sister, she was getting better every day. Her panic attacks were less frequent. Slowly, she was immersing herself back into the outside world.
Mainly, what this really meant, was he didn’t need to stay on the Isle. They’d be fine without him.
##
William reappeared in the kitchen of the Howard Mansion, with Michael just behind.
“All went well?” Melinda asked the vampire.
“Yes. As expected, no one realizes I am not a thirty-one year old man.”
Melinda nodded satisfactorily, and turned to Michael. “You’re back sooner than I expected.”
“It was just a quick walk with Emily to work at the bookstore.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up. “I have been meaning to congratulate her on taking over the place,” he admitted, apologetically. “Once Renee retired a few months ago, Emily was the perfect replacement.”
“Yes. She is,” was all Michael acknowledged to Charlie’s attempt to engage him in conversation.
“And how did she like your new haircut?” Melinda inquired.
“What’s not to like?”
“Oh get over yourself!” She shot back in amusement.
Although brothers, Charlie and Michael didn’t share many common traits.
Michael was wiry, yet athletic, with smooth, slightly flushed skin. He never had to shave. He was also slower than Melinda when it came to getting ready in the morning, even though his outfits consisted mostly of jeans, sandals and some kind of pullover shirt. However, the hours spent getting every strand of hair on his head into its perfect place, were too many to count.
Charlie, on the other hand, had enough hair for two men. His dusty brown locks were thick and disheveled, falling just above his shoulders, and his facial hair grew fast enough that he could shave twice in one day. More often than not, he had a couple days growth on his face. He found most shirts constricting, being that he had shoulders and muscles like a football player, and preferred on nice days to wear tank tops and khaki shorts. When the weather cooled, he simply added a flannel shirt, always with the sleeves rolled up carelessly.
The only similar traits they did share: dazzling blue eyes and a killer smile that knocked any girl’s socks off. Both things inherited from their father, Jack Howard.
The kitchen phone rang loudly.
“That would be the Mack line,” Charlie stated, grabbing the phone, grateful for the distraction. “Have I even been home a full hour yet?” he asked no one in particular.
“Oh, I need to talk to Mack before you hang up, okay?” Melinda blurted out.
Charlie nodded that he’d heard her, while speaking into the phone, “Hello, Mack! How can we help the sheriff of The Demon Isle this morning?”
“Oh good, you’re home, Charlie. Hope the fishin’ trip went well.” She gave him no chance to reply. “I’m actually calling for your brother. Afraid I need a death readin’.”
“Just say where and I’ll send Michael right over.”
Michael sighed, relieved at the sound of his name. “Any excuse to get out of here,” he rumbled under his breath. “Even if it is work.”
“The morgue,” Charlie spoke to Michael. He aimed at Mack, “A local or tourist this time?”
“That’s what I’m hoping Michael can tell me, actually. You see, all I got is drybones…” Her tone turned ominous.
“A skeleton. I see.”
“Yeah, a first. Not a stitch of meat on’em.”
“Michael will be right over to help.” Charlie was about to hang up when he remembered his sister needed to speak with the sheriff. He tossed Melinda the phone.
“Hiya, Mack,” she greeted. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate, but I’m afraid I have another job for you.”
“Anything you need, Sweety. You just tell me what it is.”
“There’s a back door at the Fishhook Seafood Company that’s broken. A lock keeps jamming and if they don’t fix it, in three days someone that works there dies because it won’t open.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’m on it! Just consider me your own personal dream killer,” the sheriff added with a haughty laugh.
Melinda let out a dark chuckle.
Mack disconnected.
Charlie and Michael stared at Melinda, awaiting explanation.
“Yeah yeah. Another dream. I took care of it didn’t I?”
“You’re supposed to tell us when you have a dream, so we can help,” Charlie reminded gently. Instant guilt consumed him. He’d been gone. Out of reach part of the time. She couldn’t have told him even if she’d needed to.
“I did. I told William, and we decided it was best handled by Mack. What are we going to do? Walk up to the owners of the Fishhook and say, hey, Melinda, yeah that girl everyone already thinks is a freak, also has prophetic dreams and last night, she dreamt your broken back door would cause someone to die?”
“Point noted. They’ve only been on the Isle for a couple years and are not aware of
what goes on around here. However,” started Charlie, “how can we decide if it’s something we can or should handle if you don’t tell us? I trust William’s opinions, of course, and I wasn’t home. But you can tell us too, Melinda. Just remember that, okay.”
“Maybe she can make up her own mind,” Michael defended.
“This isn’t about you and me, Michael,” Charlie breathed out heavily.
“I’m just saying she’s not a kid. And who made you captain of this fucking ship? What rule says we have to tell you every little thing that happens?”
Charlie closed his eyes, searching for a reply that would not make the situation worse. But all he wanted to do was grab his brother by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. An annoyed groan slipped across his lips and he opened his eyes to see Michael leaving the kitchen in a huff.
“I gotta go. Job to do,” he spouted with mock enthusiasm.
“I think I’ll go with him,” Melinda said, frowning in displeasure. First, because she had just volunteered to leave the house, and second, that Charlie and Michael were no closer to ending their argument. She patted Charlie’s shoulder and followed Michael, hoping her voluntary departure from the house would help improve his mood.
After Charlie and William were alone Charlie let out a strained breath as if he’d been holding it in. “The full moon’s almost here. It’s so much harder not to get angry, about anything or everything, the closer it gets.”
“And they know this, Charlie.”
“I’m going to go unpack, take a cold shower,” Charlie decided. “Cool down a little.”
“I will be in my study, should anyone need me,” William spoke evenly.
However, Charlie didn’t leave, and instead, stared at the wall, rubbing his hand across his stubble-covered chin.
Demon Street Blues Page 2