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 33

by Lora Edwards


  “It is brilliant, thank you Hugh. Exactly what I needed.” Ovidia smiled; she missed Hugh when she was away from the institute.

  “I will leave you girls to visit for a few minutes. Teagan, I will go find Llewelyn and have him refresh our tea.”

  “Okay Grandpa, see you in a few.” Teagan watched him leave the room before turning back to Ovidia. “Okay, spill. You look like you are about to burst, and I know you didn’t send Blackbeard out of the room to talk to me about research stuff.”

  Ovidia sighed. It was a blessing and a curse to have someone know you so well.

  “I think I’m having feelings for Erik again—no, I don’t think, I know. I have always loved him, since childhood. When he left, I tried to bury that feeling, but now being here with him again, those old feelings are creeping back.”

  “What do you want to do about it?

  “I’m not sure, and now is not the time to be worried about my love life.”

  Teagan snorted. “You’ll figure it out, just listen to your heart and not your stubborn head. Be careful, and take care of yourself.”

  “You know it girl.” She winked at Teagan with some of her usual sass.

  Teagan waved her hand and her image disappeared, the mirror reflecting back her own face.

  “Here goes nothing. I hope you know what you’re talking about Teag.” Ovidia sighed, squaring her shoulders and leaving Blackbeard’s quarters.

  That task finished, Ovidia headed back toward her cabin. She needed to relay to Erik her conversation with Teagan—well, the parts of it that pertained to the mission. He did not need to know about the other part. Later, she would be frank with him and find out if he still had feelings for her, and if he had any desire to pursue those feelings. With that resolved, she would get her head back into the mission and find the Siren before it was too late. She had a bad feeling that this descendant—whoever he was—did not have good intentions.

  “Oh sorry, miss. I should watch better where I’m goin,” a pirate said, giving Ovidia a slight grin.

  Ovidia rubbed her head where it had collided with the man’s massive shoulder and smiled at him.

  “No harm, no foul. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she said, moving to go past him.

  She looked at him one more time, noticing the strained expression on his face.

  “Are you all right,” she asked. She was not normally the type to get into other people’s affairs, but he had such an odd look on his face, almost as if he was lost.

  “Yes, it’s just that I had the strangest dream, and it felt so real.” He rubbed at his tired eyes. “Ever since I woke up from it, I can’t seem to sleep, and these voices haunt my dreams when I am finally able to find rest.”

  Ovidia’s eyes narrowed. The men of the ship were human, and unless they had some mermaid or siren blood, the amulets they wore would have wiped their memories. “Can you describe this dream,” she asked him, leaning against the wall and trying to look relaxed.

  “We are on the ship at first, and I can hear beautiful singing. As the ship slowly sails past a rock, three beautiful women sit there, but they are not human women…they are mermaids. We all stare back at them. They are so lovely, and the singing tugs at my heart. Then the ship docks and we are all on an island being greeted by a king. He talks of Sirens, and a kidnapping. I meet a beautiful girl who tells me I won’t remember her after tomorrow. She is so beautiful with sleek dark hair and eyes as green as my homeland in Ireland. I think I am in love with her. She shows me her true form by diving into the water, her legs turning into a glittering tail.

  “Then we all board the ship. Amora, the woman I met, blows me a kiss from the shore, her eyes wet with tears. I vow in my heart to return to the island and take her as my wife—I don’t care that she is a Siren. Then our ship sails past the rock again and out to open sea. It was so real, miss. I cannot believe that it was a dream. It repeats over and over, and I know I must find the woman in the dream. Amora—she is my soul mate.” The man stopped, unshed tears gleaming in his eyes. “Please miss, help me. Am I losing my mind?”

  Ovidia gazed at him, her eyes soft. “No, you are not going crazy. I am going to ask you a question. It is going to sound strange, but just bear with me then I will help you make sense of this dream,” Ovidia said, looking at the man intently.

  He was gorgeous with grey-green eyes and striking features. His silky midnight hair was tied up in a leather thong, and he had full sensual lips. His voice was deep and melodic, and during his tale, Ovidia had to keep reminding herself to listen to the words and not get caught up in the sounds. His body matched his face, well-muscled and toned, his skin bronze from his time on the ship.

  “You hail from Ireland?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Were there any family legends about mermaids or Sirens,” she asked.

  He smiled, his eyes going soft with memory.

  “When I was a boy, my gran used to tell me a story. It was said that my many greats grandfather was a fisherman and one day he was out on the water when a terrible storm blew up. He lay in the bottom of his small fishing boat being tossed about by the waves, waiting to be taken by the ocean. Finally the stormy seas calmed so he sat up and looked around in despair. There was nothing but the blue water for as far as he could see in any direction.

  “He then heard a sound he recognized as weeping. Frowning, he looked over the side of the boat and noticed a woman in the water, and she was softly weeping. He thought this was odd, as there was no land to speak of, and he could not see where she could have come from. He paused then asked, ‘Why are you weeping, and how did you come to be here out in the ocean?’

  “She responded that her island was not too far away, but said she could not swim back as she was tangled in a fishing net that had drifted out to sea. My grandfather took a knife from his belt and cut the net away, surprised to see a tail instead of legs. He realized she was a mermaid.

  “She thanked him and when they looked into each other’s eyes, it was love at first sight. She took him back to her island and there they lived happily with others of her kind, and she became pregnant with his son. After the birth of the child, she became ill. The others of her kind tried to heal her using herbs and magic, but she slowly faded away until one day, she closed her eyes for the last time.

  “My grandfather was brokenhearted at her death and begged the king to let him take his son and return to his own people. The king agreed on one condition: that the son would not be able express the dual nature of his mother’s people. If my grandfather returned to Ireland and the boy was found out, it would expose the Sirens, and that could not be. My grandfather agreed and a spell was cast upon his child. On his 18th birthday, the secret would be revealed to him and he could choose to stay with his father’s kind or return to the land of the Siren. The boy would have to choose carefully, for whatever he chose would affect all of his descendants. If he chose to stay with the humans then any children he had would not be able to change as his mother’s people did.

  “My grandfather agreed and returned to Ireland with the babe. Upon the boy’s 18th birthday, he was told of his nature and given a choice. He had already fallen in love with a girl from the village and chose to remain in Ireland.

  “The story has been passed down through the generations from father to son since that time.” The man still stared into the distance, his smile sad. “My father passed before he could relay the story to me, so my gran told it to me as a bedtime story each night before I slept. She had the most beautiful singing voice.”

  Ovidia straightened from her position on the wall, not sure what to do. Should she inform this man of his Siren heritage or let him continue to believe it was all a dream, keeping him separated from his beloved?

  Ovidia looked at the man’s sad face and made her decision.

  “You are not out of your mind. That story that was passed down from father to son in your family is true. You are a descendant of the Sirens. That ‘dream’ you
keep having is real. We were there. Humans cannot remember their time on the Siren island without a spell. You remembered because your blood is their blood. Your Amora, she is real, and you can return to her.” Ovidia smiled softly.

  “You’re telling me my gran’s old wives’ tale is real? Amora is real,” he asked, a spark lighting in his eye.

  “Yes,” Ovidia said simply. “Come with me.”

  The pirate followed Ovidia down the corridor and out onto the deck where Erik and Blackbeard stood deep in conversation.

  “Michael, why are you not helping the crew with the ship chores,” Blackbeard asked, frowning at the pirate standing with Ovidia.

  “We have a situation, gentlemen,” Ovidia said then preceded to give them the shortened version of her conversation with Michael.

  Blackbeard and Erik were silent for a moment, staring at Michael, who stood tall and proud.

  Ovidia smiled. He was a proud man and was willing to stand in front of these two imposing men even after Ovidia told them a story any normal human would think was crazy.

  “We are not far from the island and can spare a dinghy. Do you think he is immune to the song,” Blackbeard asked.

  “He should be as he has Siren blood,” Ovidia said, wishing for Teagan and her library. She couldn’t make contact through the mirror again so soon as it would drain its power, and they may need it for more serious issues.

  Blackbeard looked hard at Michael.

  “You realize you are taking a risk. We are not certain that you will not fall prey to the song and drown yourself trying to get to the Sirens of the rock.”

  “Yes, I would do anything to return to Amora. I can’t believe she is real,” Michael said, his heart in his eyes and in his voice.

  “All right then, take one of the smaller boats that has a sail. I will draw you a crude map and you have a compass. We are less than a day’s voyage away,” Blackbeard said.

  “I don’t need a map or a compass, just the boat,” the Irishman said matter-of-factly.

  Blackbeard looked at Michael then at Ovidia and Erik.

  “You don’t want a map or a compass,” the captain asked.

  “I can feel it here,” Michael said, putting a hand to his heart. “It’s like a pulling sensation I have felt since waking this morning. There is also a melodic song drifting through my mind. It is sad, almost like a weeping woman. I have heard it all day. I think it is Amora. I can use this to guide me back to the island. It is where I belong,” he said.

  Blackbeard nodded. He turned and bellowed at the crew to begin to swab the upper decks far away from where the extra boat was anchored.

  Michael went to grab his belongings as Erik, Ovidia, and Blackbeard worked to get the boat ready to be lowered into the water.

  Michael soon came back and climbed into the dinghy. They slowly lowered it down and it landed with a small splash.

  Michael waved as he put up the small sail. The wind blew it open, and they watched as he began to sail back in the direction they had come from, back to the Siren island and his destiny.

  “Do you think that was meant to be,” Erik asked Ovidia as they watched the small boat get smaller and smaller.

  “If it wasn’t, it is awfully odd that he picked this particular crew and we went to that island. I hope he and Amora have a long and happy life together.” Ovidia sighed.

  “Vid, did you just sigh,” Erik asked, a grin on his face.

  “No, I did not,” Ovidia answered indignantly.

  Erik just smiled at her, and they looked at each for a long time until Blackbeard broke the spell.

  “What did you learn from Teagan,” he asked, oblivious to the tension between Erik and Ovidia.

  Ovidia sighed and turned away from Erik.

  “She said she was not familiar with any legend of a woman marrying a Siren and had not come across any information that mentioned the human legend in her other research, but she said she would dig down into it and we are to contact her when we can.”

  “The mirror should be ready for use again tomorrow. Being over water saps the magic some, but I haven’t been using it so we should be able to contact them tomorrow and see if Teagan and Hugh have learned anything,” Blackbeard explained.

  Erik and Ovidia nodded. “Dinner in my cabin tonight,” he asked.

  They both nodded, and Blackbeard strode away, yelling insults and curses at the crewmembers.

  “He really gets into the role doesn’t he?” Erik said to Ovidia, a smile in his voice.

  “He does. At least he’s enjoying it. I can’t imagine what it would be like to spend so much time in someone else’s skin. It must wear on him some,” Ovidia said.

  “I asked him about that, and he said he can spend short spurts of time as his real self and just has to be careful to not be seen,” Erik said.

  “Always the curious one aren’t you,” Ovidia said softly. “I always liked that about you.”

  “You did? I always thought it annoyed you,” Erik said with a sad smile.

  Ovidia looked up at him. They’d wasted so much time because they hadn’t communicated what they needed. He hadn’t handled things the right way. He had left instead of telling her he wasn’t ready. Ovidia’s planning their lives together had been too much for him.

  She continued to look up at him. That was in the past now, and if she intended to pursue a relationship with him again, she needed to let it go.

  Erik slowly lowered his head, giving her ample time to walk away before he brushed his lips once then twice over hers. He then lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

  “I missed you Vid,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “I missed you too,” Ovidia said, a smile on her face.

  “Are you two done? I’m starving,” Blackbeard bellowed from the top deck before he turned away and headed for his cabin.

  Ovidia rolled her eyes as Erik smiled and squeezed her hand before turning to go up to Blackbeard’s cabin.

  “Can we use this mirror to contact the Siren king,” Ovidia asked Blackbeard as they sat down for dinner.

  “Yes, we should be able to. Why,” he asked.

  “After we talk with Teagan, I want to give him an update on our theory. I think he has the right to know who took his daughter and the circumstances surrounding it. I think he is pretty sure the man was a descendant of his wife who abandoned him, but it would be nice to give him confirmation, as well as check on Michael. I would like to know if he made it,” she said, digging into her food.

  “Vid, you going soft on us over there?” Erik smirked at her across the table.

  “Wanting to know about someone’s welfare is not going soft, Erik,” Ovidia said coldly, sending him a glare.

  He only chuckled and continued with his dinner.

  “I was thinking about that as well, and I would like to know if he arrived safely myself,” Blackbeard said. “Tomorrow we can contact your friend at the institute and then contact the king. We made good time in the night. The winds are in our favor, and we are only about a day’s sail from London.”

  “Good—all of this waiting is making me antsy. I am ready for some action,” Ovidia told them.

  She had been practicing with her cutlass and broadsword every night in her room. The enchanted space always gave her what she needed. When she needed to practice, the bedroom faded away and a replica of her practice room at home shimmered to life. Ovidia had been grateful for the ability to practice. She did not think the man they hunted would go easily. He may have been a human, but he was crafty and skilled enough to find a way to steal a Siren, so there was no telling what else he had up his sleeve.

  Finished with the meal, the three of them talked late into the night. When Ovidia returned to her room later, she fell into a restless sleep, the sound of a crying woman echoing through her dreams.

  The next day, the three of them stood in front of the mirror. Ovidia muttered the incantation needed and said, “Institute London library,” very clearly. The library shimmered to lif
e, showing Teagan and Hugh at the long table, hunkered over books. Stacks littered the surface, surrounding them.

  At the sound of tinkling glass, Teagan looked over and smiled upon seeing Ovidia standing where there used to be a stained glass window.

  “Vid, I can’t wait to tell you what we found,” Teagan said eagerly, jumping up from her chair and grabbing a notebook. “First of all, Sirens are fascinating creatures. Did you know—”

  Ovidia chuckled. “Later Teag. Right now we need the important details, and we don’t have much time.”

  “Oh yes, sorry. I got a bit caught up there,” she said, her cheeks blushing. “I found some information on the human family you wanted me to research. In newspapers from that time, there were several long articles about a woman who was thought to have been lost at sea returning mysteriously one day. There were subsequent articles that discussed her placement in a mental institution for a time as she was reporting that she had spent the lost years on an island populated by Sirens. This was hushed up fairly quickly by the institute, as you can imagine.”

  “That is excellent work Teag! Any information on any descendants she may have had?”

  “Yes, I was getting to that. Some years later there was an article that the Widow Anson was remarrying, and that her son would be taking the new Lord’s name. Then a few years after that another article discussing the marriage of Lord Stanton and a scant time later a birth announcement. I think the baby from the announcement is the man you are looking for. He is well known in the gossip columns of the time for being a bit odd, and he was very close to his grandmother, who would have been the Siren king’s wife,” Teagan finished.

  “Do we have a name,” Ovidia asked.

  “Yes, Albert Stanton. The grandmother, the one who married the Siren king—I found her by the name you gave me. One Leona Anson married a Duke Stanton. They had a home on the strand and a house in the country. That is most likely where he is holding the Siren. Good luck Vid, and be careful,” Teagan said, a worried expression on her face.

  “Always,” Ovidia responded before Teagan disappeared from the mirror. She turned to look at Blackbeard and Erik.

 

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