The Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Books 1-3: Books 1-3 in the Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Series

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The Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Books 1-3: Books 1-3 in the Paranormal Research and Rescue Institute Series Page 32

by Lora Edwards


  Please find our sister and bring her home. Ovidia felt the touch of several minds on hers, heard the combined whispers of these women.

  I will find her and bring her home, or I will sacrifice my own life in the attempt, Ovidia thought back at them. She looked them in the eyes as the ship slowly passed, making eye contact with each of the three. These women led a hard life; they caused the deaths of others in order to keep their own safe, made a great sacrifice for their people. It was something Ovidia understood well.

  Chapter 12

  Delphine tried to straighten out the cramp in her tail. This small tank did not allow her much room to move, but she had no choice. She had to have contact with the sea or water that came from it, as she had found out by way of this tank. She had been angry and frightened when they’d come and taken her then locked her up in a dank room on the ship. She had resigned herself to her fate, knowing that if they did not allow her contact with the sea, she would grow weaker by the day and finally would no longer exist. She may have only been half Siren, but the blood of her race was strong and she felt the call of the sea through the wood of the boat. If only she was able to reach it.

  They had come and dragged her out, humiliated her by stripping her and throwing her into an ornate tank that sat on the deck. As soon as she had hit the water, she had sighed, unable to control the change that wrought her body or the pleasure she felt from being in contact with the seawater. Her tail sprouted a glittering amethyst, causing the sailors on the deck to jump back, some crossing themselves. The ritual had continued day after day: she was hauled up to the deck, stripped in front of the sailors, and thrown in the tank.

  When they had landed in a strange place, she had been bound and gagged then thrown into a carriage. She could just see the landscape jostling by and despite her situation, she marveled at what she saw: massive buildings under a dull grey sky, so many humans bustling about. She had never seen so many people in one place.

  She rode in the carriage for what felt like hours, the four men surrounding her neither looking at her nor speaking to her. Her delicate skin was rubbed raw from her bindings, and her legs cramped from being in such an awkward position for so long.

  She thought the ride would never end until the carriage abruptly stopped. She briefly saw the facade of a massive house before she was dragged inside.

  The men dumped her in a room and cut her bindings, but before she could struggle to her feet, they clamped a necklace around her neck then shut the door, and she heard a bolt slide into place. Looking around, she stood on shaky legs. Once she was sure they would hold her, she stood. It was not a hovel, or even a dungeon; it was a well-appointed room, not unlike her own rooms on the island, but no matter how pretty the setting, it was a prison.

  Delphine walked over and hefted one of the candlesticks from the mantle over the fireplace. It was heavy and silver. She walked over to one of the large windows and threw it as hard as she could, hoping against hope that she could escape and find her way home.

  To her dismay, the candlestick bounced harmlessly off of the window and landed with a thump on the floor. She moved closer to grab the candlestick; she would try again. As she neared the window, she knew any attempt would be hopeless. She could feel a magical signature and as she tried to place her hand on the glass, a flare of blue light met her palm.

  She sank to the floor, allowing the despair she had been holding back to momentarily swallow her. Tears streamed down her face. She was so afraid she wouldn’t see home again, afraid of why these men had taken her, afraid of what they had in store for her.

  She heard the door open behind her and didn’t turn; she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how afraid she was. She would be meek and she would watch. Eventually they would let their guard down, and then she would have her opportunity to escape.

  “How do you find your accommodations, my dear?” It was the voice of the man who had taken her.

  “Fine,” she said, standing and turning. She would face him standing, let him look her in the eye and hear why he had taken her.

  “So curt. You would think you were not a fan of our hospitality,” he said, a sneer across his face. “Everything you require is in this room.” He pointed to a closed door. “There you will find bathroom facilities, and behind that door there”—he pointed to another wooden door—“fresh saltwater from the sea will be pumped into a pool. We wouldn’t want you to get ill on us, now would we,” he crooned.

  “And if I refuse,” she asked, arms crossed over her chest in defiance. So much for being meek.

  His eyes darkened as he started toward her in a menacing manner. He checked himself, taking a deep breath, and the insincere sneer returned to his face. “That would be your choice, my dear. I found the way onto your island once—there is nothing stopping me from returning there and laying waste to your people,” he said, a sincere smile sliding across his face and pleasure dancing in his eyes as he thought of the destruction he could cause on that small island. “It is not as if they could run and hide—we would fish them out of the sea as they tried to escape.”

  “How do you know of us? Of our history? What do you want from me,” she asked, feeling as if the words were being pulled from her.

  “Revenge, my dear, and riches beyond my wildest dreams,” he replied, avarice glowing from his eyes. “Please have a seat. You have been on a long journey and it will take some time for me to tell you the story of how we have come to be in our present situation.” He gestured to a small table and chairs that sat near the window, looking out to the moody sea.

  She was sure the placement was not accidental; he wanted her to suffer, to be able to see her home but not be able to return to it.

  “We have something in common, you and I—we are both of the same bloodline. Your mother…she was my grandmother,” he said. “When I was a boy, I would spend time with her while my parents flitted from one society event to the other, and she would tell me stories of a man who enchanted her with his powers and forced her to bear him a child, of how she stole a precious jewel from him and was able to escape by making herself a raft out of driftwood in secret, how she was picked up by sailors and brought home here to England.”

  He stood abruptly from his chair.

  “She was not the same when she came home. My father said she was distant and moody, restless, not the caring mother he remembered. You see, she went with my father, a successful merchant shipman, and they encountered rough seas. Their ship was torn apart and she was thought lost at sea. Then, many years later, when my father was a man, she came home, looking as young and vibrant as she had been when she left.

  “But, she was not the same. She spoke of impossible things, of people on an island who could turn themselves into fish, women who lured sailors to their death. She was pensive and moody, prone to rages, and it was your father who did this to her. You are the offspring from a forced union. Your father took my grandmother from us—maybe not her body, but her mind and her spirit. She was never the same after what was done to her by your kind.” He screamed the last words in her face, his eyes bulging, chest heaving. “I vowed when I was a boy that I would travel and search and if I found that what my grandmother said was true, I would take my revenge on the people who had broken her mind.”

  “What caused you to believe such a fanciful story,” the Siren asked. Humans did not believe Sirens and other supernaturals actually existed; it was one of the things that kept them safe. Also, why hadn’t her mother’s mind been wiped clean after she left the island? She should not have had any memory of her time spent on the Siren isle.

  She had heard the tale of her parents many times, and her father always discussed it as if her mother was a more than willing participant. Her stepmother, her father’s wife—the one he set aside for a human and then begged for forgiveness from—agreed that her mother was willing and loved her father until the day she didn’t, and then she left, returning to the human world and devastating Delphine’s father.

/>   “She shouldn’t have been able to remember any of her time with us—that’s how it works: humans do not remember their time on the island,” Delphine explained to this angry man.

  He laughed bitterly. “She wasn’t only human. The blood of the witch runs in our veins, diluted but still there. The trace of this magic allowed her to use a jewel she stole from your father to help her remember the time on your island and what was done to her, the horrors she endured at the hands of your people. And now, my dear, you will pay the ultimate price, as will the other unnaturals.”

  “You said she had the blood of a witch—would that not make you an ‘unnatural’, as you call it,” she asked.

  His face immediately clouded with rage and he turned to her, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her against the wall behind her.

  “Never say that again! Never call me one of you. The small trace of tainted blood in my veins is what is going to allow me to have my vengeance and my reward. When all is done and your kind is exposed and put down, my duty will be done and I will sacrifice my life. This tainted blood will end with me.” He released her and let her drop to the ground, her hand going to her neck where the angry red imprints of his hands marred her flesh.

  He stood over her, his breath heaving. Delphine recoiled at the hate that shined out of his eyes. He was a fanatic who was convinced he was ridding the world of something he considered unclean. She cowered in the corner, afraid of what he might do. She had to leave, had to escape this place and warn the others—not just those of her kind, but all others. This man would expose them and enslave them, and who knew how many innocents would die in the process.

  He stood there looking at her for a few moments longer, his eyes boring holes in her flesh. He then abruptly turned and left, shutting the door firmly behind him and locking her in the gilt prison.

  Delphine stood shakily, fearing that he would return. She looked around the opulent room and saw the wooden door. She opened it and sighed in relief at the sight of the large round tub. Made of stone, it filled the whole room. The walls were painted a lovely shade of blue, mosaic tiles lined the floor, and one wall glittered in the light, not unlike her scales.

  This man was a puzzle. He talked of enslaving her and her kind but then provided her a beautiful room and this luxurious chamber. She didn’t understand. She turned the tap on the wall and waited. She could smell the sea as the water came pouring out cold and salty to fill the stone chamber. She latched the door and slipped out of her clothes. Now that the drugs they had used to keep her calm and sedated during the journey had worn off, she would try to contact her family. She had been too drugged before to reach out to them with her mind. She didn’t think the man knew of this ability; if he had, she believed he would have continued to keep her sedated to keep her from warning the others.

  Slipping into the water, she shuddered a bit at the cold. These waters were much colder than the warmer ones she was used to around her island home, but it felt good to shift. She welcomed the fiery sensation that swept up her legs, looked down as the iridescent scales covered her skin and her feet fused into a tail. Gritting her teeth against the last of the pain from the transformation, she sighed. It felt good to be in that form again. Slipping beneath the water, she swam in a circle, as the tub was large and allowed her the freedom to splash and move. Again, the light and the dark; she wondered about his kindness toward her.

  She reached out with her mind, freeing a part of herself and calling out to the others. She wept as she felt the first small touches of her people, the delight that she was okay. Feeling her fear and heartbreak, they whispered comforting words until she felt the strong touch of her father.

  “Daughter, are you well?” His strong voiced boomed in her mind, bolstering her own resolve.

  “Yes Father, but you must be warned—the human man, he has an awful plan.”

  “Help is on the way. We will rescue you and then we will avenge you,” he said. “Look for the woman of the glowing sword, the man with eyes of ice, and the notorious pirate Blackbeard. They are your saviors and ours.”

  “Yes Father.” Delphine would have faith that these people would be able to find her and free her, and that they would allow her the revenge she sought.

  She let the connection go. She had never had to sustain such a connection over such a distance, had never left her island. She was tired and needed to rest.

  Pulling herself out of the water, she lay on the stone ledge as the water dried from her tail. The fiery pain returned and Delphine waited until again there were legs in place of a tail.

  Getting unsteadily to her feet, she unlatched the door. Going over to an armoire, she opened it to reveal clothing. She pulled out a nightdress and slipped it over her head, climbed into the ornate bed, and closed her eyes. She would rest and conserve her energy. She would wait for those who were coming to free her and then she would fight. She would have her revenge.

  Chapter 13

  Ovidia stood on the deck of the ship, arms around her stomach. She wished she could contact Teagan. She would be able to go through the archives, both human and institute, to see if she could dig up any information on a man of this time who had a fascination with the paranormal or Sirens in general. It would possibly give them a clue as to where they were headed. She also missed her best friend and wanted to talk to her about the feelings that were blossoming between her and Erik. She felt that small spark that was always with her, the one she had been trying to push to the back of her mind for the past few years. It caught fire and turned into a blaze, a blaze she did not want. She was content with her life, and as strong as she was on the outside, she was not sure she could handle another heartbreak.

  Ovidia heard footsteps on the deck and looked over to see Blackbeard coming to stand next to her. “Thinking long thoughts—the sea is good for that.”

  “I was just thinking it would be great to be able to contact Teagan. She is one of the researchers back at the institute, and she could possibly help us to sort out who this man may be.”

  “Your wish is my command, my lady. Come with me.” Blackbeard made a sweeping, bowing gesture then turned and strode toward his study.

  Curious, Ovidia followed him in.

  Blackbeard went to one of the teakwood panels in the wall and pressed his palm flat to the surface murmuring a word she couldn’t hear.

  The wall glowed and wavered, and there instead of the teak was a mirror. Blackbeard smiled at Ovidia’s confused expression. He then recited and incantation and said clearly Library London Institute. Ovidia’s heart leaped as she saw Hugh and Teagan sitting at one of the long tables, pouring over some illuminated manuscripts, tea at their elbows. The sound of the tinkling glass had Hugh and Teagan looking up from their work.

  Blackbeard moved over and gestured for Ovidia to stand in front of the mirror.

  Teagan’s looked over, seeing not the beautiful scene of purple glass and unicorns that was usually there when it was not in use, but Ovidia looking every bit the rakish pirate.

  “Hard at work as always, I see,” Ovidia commented, cocking her hip as she felt a huge smile cross her face.

  “Vid!” Teagan squealed as she ran over to the window, Hugh close behind her. “How?” Teagan stood in front of Ovidia, almost vibrating.

  Ovidia turned back to Blackbeard. “Could I have a few moments of privacy? She is not just a researcher but also my best friend.”

  “Of course.” Blackbeard left the room, and Ovidia waited until she heard the soft click of the door closing.

  “Teag, I have so much to tell you, but first I need your help with some research.”

  “That was Blackbeard? He is hunky.”

  Ovidia rolled her eyes. “Okay, focus. You are happily married to a very possessive dragon—you shouldn’t be noticing how ‘hunky’ other men are.”

  Teagan rolled her eyes. “I’m married, not dead, and just because I’m happy doesn’t mean I can’t notice a prime specimen of male when I see it. I wonder what hi
s true form looks like…”

  “Focus!” Ovidia said before launching into what they had learned. “Here is what I gathered from the Siren king: years ago, a human woman washed up on the island of the Sirens, and she told King Merrick her name was Leona Anson. She caught the eye of the king, and they had a child together. She then decided she was better off with her own people and sailed away. The Sirens that guard the entrance to the island saw her get picked up by a ship.

  “King Merrik believes she was just human, and they have had ordinary humans wash up on their shores before—maybe mermaids in the area helped her to land they have been known to do this on occasion. The question is, if she did not have any siren or mermaid blood, how did she remember her time on the island after she left?”

  “That is interesting. There may be something here in the institute records, and if not, I can reach out to some of my contacts at Duke, or here in London. It was a good idea to give that large gift to Duke—I really don’t think the dean was happy to lose two of his professors at the same time, but I think the size of the endowment we made eased the sting a bit.” Teagan smiled.

  Ovidia had taken a job as a Norse scholar at Duke University to be nearer to Teagan as the time to learn about who she really was came closer. When Teagan had come to the institute and learned about her heritage, she stayed on as a researcher, and Ovidia was no longer in need of a cover. The dean of history at Duke was none too pleased to lose two professors, but the millions they had endowed to the university had appeared to appease him somewhat.

  “He should be over it now that he is rolling in all that money. Plus, we helped him find replacements. It’s not like we really left him in the lurch,” Ovidia reminded Teagan.

  “Okay Vid, we will get right on this. Give me, say, 24 hours,” Teagan said, looking back at her grandfather.

  “That should work well. I hope you are enjoying your adventure Ovidia.” He smiled at her from behind his granddaughter.

 

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