Roadside stands lined the landscape, bulging with bushels of the fall harvest. Signs boasting “Fresh Baked Pies” were everywhere. It was hard to believe the strange happenings that had recently plagued the office of the chief medical examiner. Then again, it was getting closer to el Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead.
The beauty of the island, including the Victorian-style homes, quaint shops, seaside cafés and Witches Rock lighthouse, was only part of its charm. Frank Dubois insisted the residents of the town of Seacrest maintain a certain style, true to its two-hundred-year history.
Holistic healers, herbalists and astrologers along with an enormous art community—not to mention fabulous restaurants—all found their businesses thriving. There were crystal shops, art galleries, antique shops, bakeries and bookstores on almost every block. Each one was successful.
It was a festive time of the year on the island of Mirabelle Cove with the upcoming Samhain/Halloween Fair. Mardi Gras in the French Quarter had nothing on Mirabelle. The islanders partied not just for one day, but from mid-October through the New Year. Most of the summer folk returned to winterize their homes and remained for the harvest fair, then they headed home for the holidays to be with their families and hunker down for the winter. Winters on the island could be, and often were, brutal.
Raven always looked forward to these months of celebration. She thought of years past, the amazing partying interrupted by hours of work, which eventually gave way to more partying. Memories tugged at her, more often than not of Bo. He was such an integral part of her life that nearly all memories included him.
But what she felt the strongest at that moment was the palpable passion between them. He sat next to her, guiding the vehicle down winding roads. The uncontrollable image of tearing his clothes off and taking him inside her once more played over and over in her mind. As if he read her thoughts, he looked at her and smiled.
“I could pull over,” he whispered.
She ran her hands through her hair and let out a frustrated moan. “Don’t tempt me, Boo.” She placed her hand where his thigh met his hip and rubbed gently. “Damn, but you are so tempting.”
Bo half-heartedly pulled up to the stone-faced town hall.
“Kagi Taka, don’t awaken the beast and then not be able to finish what you’ve started.” He winked playfully at her.
She leaned over and gave him a deliberately seductive kiss. “Who says I can’t finish?”
He grabbed her by the back of the neck and held her face close to his. “Then marry me. Let’s finish what we started ten years ago.”
Raven pulled away. “What? Where’s that coming from?”
Staring intently at her, he said, “My heart.”
Raven opened the car door and stepped out. She turned back to look into his deep, expressive eyes. “I need to process this. You know I love you.”
Taking in a long breath and holding it, he finally sighed with exasperation. “I hear a ‘but’ coming. It’s all right, sweetheart, take all the time you need. I’ll be here.” He slipped out of the car.
They walked past an assortment of brightly colored asters, mums, pumpkins and crisp, white Montauk daisies. The brilliant colors of the season offset the drab interior of the town hall offices. Bo held the door open as they headed straight for Frank’s office, giving Vivian, his secretary, a wave on the way. At least her festive desk dripped with gourds, a basket of candy and tiny scarecrows.
Frank signaled the two into his spacious office as he was finishing up on the phone. Standing just shy of six feet tall, with thick, cottony white hair and skin the color of chocolate, Mayor Dubois wore a constant expression of authority, always in control. Raven couldn’t remember the last time she saw Frank laugh aloud.
His office was plain, with little color, the only exception being a palm tree tucked in one corner. The floors were pine and the walls were a drab yellow. Raven recalled it being an antique white in days gone by. He did, however, have comfortable furniture.
A large window provided a scenic view for the mayor. Raven was aware of his tendency to daydream while staring out of it until either his secretary or a phone call forced him back to reality.
“I’ll try to be home on time for dinner, chéri. But don’t wait for me. See you soon.” He motioned for them to sit as he hung up the phone. Raven noted the look of worry as it flashed across his handsome face. “I take it you’re up to speed, Bo?”
“Yes, sir, Raven filled me in. I thought I’d wait to tell you that I saw the victim at Blood Pool last night as well. He was there until approximately two a.m., alone—most of the time.” Bo stole a glance at Raven. “When Solaris and I closed, the place was empty. He obviously came back, or was brought back—and had been attacked and left for dead.” Bo twisted his white gold wolf’s head ring as he spoke.
Raven pulled her leather coat tighter around her, sensing she was about to hear bad news.
Frank looked at them. “Before I begin, I want you two to know I called Solaris earlier, and she has confirmed, psychically, the same information I’m about to share with you. It seems we’ve got a few new visitors in town. I don’t know what they’re up to yet, but it’s not good. A powerful bokur named Courtier de Sang arrived, and he’s not alone. I don’t know who or what his partners are, only that they’re powerful sorciers.” Frank stood and walked over to his oak and glass cabinet. It housed an assortment of trophies, behind which was hidden his secret liquor stash, which wasn’t so secret.
“Raven, a drink? Bo?” he asked. “I’d offer you some absinthe, but I’m waiting for a shipment. Emerald of the Fae is bottling up her latest batch.”
They both smiled, but declined. Raven thought of their last encounter with absinthe. Raven still had more than half of the bottle Emerald had given to her. She’d had only a few drinks and some licks from it. The pure concoction would last a long time.
“May I ask where this information about sorciers came from?” Raven asked. Bo looked over, shaking his head slightly as if she’d made an error in judgment by asking such a question.
“Julianna Starr,” Frank answered, tapping his fingers upon his desk while staring at the autumnal beauty outside his window.
“Owner of The Bed and Brew?” Raven asked.
“The one and only. She had a premonition, and I’ve come to trust Julianna’s visions. Her daughter, Bridget, confirmed the information along with Solaris. The mother and daughter are powerful hereditary witches. The Starrs were among the founding families of Mirabelle Cove.”
Raven shifted in her seat. “I’d heard stories that somehow our families were related, way back down the line. Julianna’s great-great-grandmother and my great-great-grandfather married and had a family.”
“Yes, I seem to recall your mother telling me the same story a long time ago. It’s through your mother’s bloodline. Your great-grandmother’s one of the children of that union,” Frank reflected, seemingly getting lost in the past. “I think that’s the Irish part, and where your mother got her green eyes.” He smiled wistfully.
Raven plucked Frank from his memories of the past and her mother. “Any specific information, Frank?” she asked, rethinking her choice not to have a brandy. It was after five…somewhere in the world.
“Just that Julianna feels trouble is coming. Big trouble of the magickal kind.”
“Do you want us to go talk with Julianna and her daughter?” Bo asked, getting up to stretch.
As Bo walked past her, she grabbed his hand in a reassuring gesture.
Raven felt Frank’s gaze on them. She and Bo were so in sync with each other. “Yes. You two get along well with Julianna, and I think she’ll share the information. Perhaps you may get more from her, even have her read for you,” he said, his voice guarded.
The heat from Bo’s hand temporarily thawed her insides. “Okay, we’ll grab a bite to eat while we’re there and see what they have to say.” She let go of his hand and stood, ready to leave.
Frank looked over at he
r, appearing confused as if not sure what to say or where to begin. “Raven, be careful. I don’t have a good feeling about this. Something’s been in the air, and it doesn’t feel right. Your mother has been coming to me in my dreams, giving me veiled warnings concerning you.” He put his hand on Raven’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. She saw her mother’s beautiful face in her mind, her silken, golden brown hair and green eyes. Her mother looked frightened.
Raven hugged Frank, hoping to get a clearer image of her mother. She missed her more than she let on to anyone. Frank was incredibly lucky, she thought. He was always telling her about some dream or another that he’d had about her mother—and yet Raven hardly dreamt of her at all.
“Someday you’ll tell me about you and my mother, won’t you?” she whispered in his ear.
“Someday. I promise.”
Chapter Three
The sun began its descent across the sky of Seacrest, the main village of Mirabelle, during Bo and Raven’s meeting with Mayor Dubois. Walking outside, they noticed the intensely colored lights in radiant oranges and vibrant purples that outlined the shops and homes. Old-fashioned street lamps dotted the walkways as a small number of shopkeepers closed up for the evening. The couple strolled over to The Bed and Brew, which was located around the corner from Town Hall.
The fragrance of burning leaves was a familiar scent at this time of year. Smoke from warm fireplaces filled the autumn air as the two walked from the parking lot to The Bed and Brew. The sky was clear and the moon was waxing, every day swelling until the full phase. They both felt the pull from la bella luna. Bo let his arm rest protectively around Raven’s shoulders as they entered the restaurant.
He wondered why she hadn’t brought up his marriage proposal, but thought it best to let her mull it over. He imagined a very different response, one that included jumping for joy and smothering him with kisses—which would then, undoubtedly, lead to an incredible evening of lovemaking. Alas, that was not how it played out, and Bo considered whether she might actually turn him down.
His family originally had wanted him to pair with Bethany Logan. Eventually, they realized his heart belonged to Raven. Regrettably, Bethany still had her canines set on Bo. Bethany made no secret of her goal to mate with Bo and become his alpha female. Bethany even told Bo that if she had to, she would tolerate the Lamai, so long as Raven knew her place as second in line.
Bo held the door open for Raven in a courtly manner and the two entered. Candles lit the oak-lined dining room of the Starrs’ establishment. It was a lovely two-hundred-year-old bed and breakfast, and home of the island’s first brothel. Huge hurricane lamps occupied the four corners; each had a rune symbol of protection painted on it. A large fireplace strategically placed in the center warmed the whole room. Tapestries and antique sconces lined three of the four walls, creating an air of medieval magick. A mosaic tiled bar took up the entire length of the other wall. The pub-style restaurant was always busy, and the meals were always delectable.
“How nice to see you two together,” Julianna called in a singsong voice from across the room. She gestured for them to join her at the bar. “I’ve been expecting you, Raven. Hello, Bo.”
“Julianna, always a pleasure,” Bo said, pulling out a stool for Raven.
“Bo, you’re as handsome as ever. You’re one lucky woman, Raven Strigoi. He’s scrumptious! You have any brothers as handsome and hunky as you are, doll?”
Bo flushed with embarrassment, and Raven laughed good-naturedly. There were some women, Bo noticed, that Raven tolerated flirting with her man, while others caused her incisors to extend. Bethany triggered the latter.
Julianna inspected Raven. “As always, you’re working too hard, Raven.” She bobbed her head down behind the bar and popped back up. Her copper hair was meticulously coiffed, as always. She held a large bottle of absinthe in one hand as she signaled Mordred, the bartender, to bring over three glasses.
“Jules, you never age. What’s your secret?” Raven teased, looking over the velvet-clad witch as she skillfully poured a bit of the Green Fairy over cubes of sugar into ice-cold water.
“You’re about to drink it, honey.” She laughed, her blue eyes twinkling. “The usual?”
Raven licked her lips and winked at Julianna. “You have the best steaks, of course—marinated Porterhouses, and a side of your smashed potatoes.” Raven smiled as Bo put up two fingers, his full lips curled into a sexy smile.
Julianna pushed the kitchen’s worn double door open to peek in. In the kitchen her daughter Bridget reigned as queen. “Two marinades with the works, Jet.”
Bo could sense that Raven was feeling warm and fuzzy inside as she sipped the emerald liquor. He dreaded bringing up the horrid business that brought them there in the first place. It was a lovely night, he was with Raven and they were about to enjoy a wonderful meal. However, death also seemed to be his constant companion, and he knew, eventually, that it would demand its comeuppance.
“Enough small talk for now,” Jules whispered, moving a cornucopia to the side. “You need to take care, Raven. There is serious magick—evil magick—in the air.” The crone brandished her slender hand over the three glasses filled with the absinthe. Brilliant sparks flashed above them. The fluid in Raven’s glass changed to crimson. Bo looked in both fear and astonishment at Jules.
“What are you saying, Julianna?” he asked.
The liquid turned back to green—or could it have been an illusion of the candlelight?
“I’m saying that someone is out to hurt the magickal beings of Mirabelle Cove, and Raven will be in the middle. You need to take care also, Bo.” Julianna fingered a small gourd, which poked out of her centerpiece. “I can’t see too many specifics. I’m sorry. Certain things I cannot see, no matter what magick I try to conjure. That can only mean a powerful being is using protective shields against prying eyes. I can see, though, that there will be more bodies like the missing man at your morgue, and…something unexpected is coming your way. Things that have been buried will resurface.”
Bo wasn’t surprised Raven didn’t bother to ask how Jules knew about the dead body. She was a witch, after all. Mordred, a handsome young man with strawberry-blond hair, slid their plates over. They overflowed with thick, juicy steaks, garden greens and chive-with-cheese smashed potatoes. Bo began to feel the absinthe relaxing him after a long, harrowing day. Should a mortal take a taste of Emerald’s absinthe, it would be the trip of a lifetime, but for the magickal beings of Mirabelle Cove, it had the same effect as potent liquor—a very potent liquor.
Jules stared intensely at Raven. “Did Frank tell you anything else?”
“No, nothing—is there more?” she asked.
“He told us to come speak with you. Are you certain there’s nothing more you want to tell us?” Bo probed.
Julianna sighed, appearing puzzled. “Detective, you’ll have to ask Frank. I’ll let you two eat in peace. Do you want a private table?” Jules pointed to a vacant booth in the back. The cubicle was by a window in a secluded corner, lit only by the orange scented candles on the center of the table. They decided to sit there.
“That was weird,” Raven said as they walked toward the table. “Is it me, or did it seem as if she was hiding something?”
Bo agreed. “Something is up. I’m not so certain it was that she was hiding information. I think she has information she feels…obligated to conceal.”
“You mean like a confessor, or doctor-patient confidentiality, or attorney-client privilege?”
“Yes, my love, exactly like that.” Bo stood while Raven slid onto the sleek leather seat then sat across from her.
Raven took a slice of warm peasant bread with sun-dried tomato and dipped it into the rosemary-flavored oil in a small cup on the table.
“Mm…this is fantastic. Try a piece.” Raven offered Bo a bite as she chewed the flavorful bread.
“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” Bo said, looking into her eyes. He wanted to protect her, to keep all th
e dangers of life far away from her. Realistically, he knew that wasn’t possible, but he still held that wish nearest to his heart. Bo was a powerful man and a vicious wolf. Police training and animal instinct were his tools, and he planned to use them to their fullest capacities to shield the woman he loved from any and all predators.
Her eyes flashed like lightning. “Are you worried about me?”
Bo caressed the silken skin of her face. She felt soft and inviting. “You promise to take precautions? Do you have my medicine pouch?”
Raven pulled the tiny, suede beaded bag from under her blouse. “Close to my heart, Boo.” She smiled and started slicing into the meat, watching the blood ooze out and into the potatoes. “Maybe you can meet with your grandfather. I wonder if he’s had any visions. Have you spoken with him lately?”
Bo rubbed his boot against her leg under the table while she fed him a piece of meat.
“I’m due for a visit,” he said while chewing the tender porterhouse. Raven’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight. They ate the rest of the meal in silence, comfortable enough with each other to allow the quiet.
Leaves danced outside the window. “You want dessert?” he asked as he reached for her hands. His were on fire, as was the rest of his body. He was getting uncomfortable sitting so close to her and having to resist groping her.
“No, thanks.” The room began fading away, and Bo knew the time had come for them to leave. The closeness, the absinthe and his desire to look after her were all converging. Raven stood while he pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and left it on the table.
The car ride back to Raven’s home was quiet, with the exception of a few indiscriminate moans. They could barely keep their hands still for a single moment. Each caressed the other. Bo couldn’t tear his gaze from the woman who’d stolen his heart many years ago. Which made it challenging to drive.
Blood Pool Page 4