“Considering where they were found,” said Michael to the sheriff, “my guess would be a Sea Hag. I’ve never seen their handy work personally, but William’s told me about them. Our parents killed one when I was about two if I remember right. Sea Hag does not explain the trauma to the chest though. Hag’s attack their victims using a poison that releases from the tentacles they call hair.”
“Icky,” shuddered Melinda.
“I’m with her,” agreed Mack. “Nice to see you about, by the way,” she added bluntly.
Melinda just nodded thanks in reply, preferring to ignore the topic.
Michael stepped toward the skeleton. He took a deep breath and reached his arm out to touch the bones. “Why don’t we find out what really happened,” he said, laying his hand on the skeleton. Michael’s eyes closed and began to flutter back and forth under closed eyelids.
A long minute later, he gasped and let go, taking a few unsteady steps backwards.
“You okay?” his sister asked, concerned.
“Ju-Just a little more violent than I expected,” he stuttered, catching his breath. Something in his eye told Melinda he wanted to say more, but held his tongue. After a moment, he turned to Mack. She always waited patiently after Michael’s assistance, realizing how equally helpful and disturbing his ability as a death reader could be.
“This man was definitely murdered,” he informed her.
“I was afraid you were gonna say that.”
“Right before his death he was in some kind of rage… shouting like a mad man, but nothing comprehendible. It looked like he was trying to attack someone, and that someone shot him, which explains the chest trauma. They left him to die at the hands of a Sea Hag, as I expected, which explains the stripping of the bones.”
“Don’t suppose you could help a Sheriff out and just tell me who shot this man?”
“Sorry. No face. Only a gun.” Michael stepped toward the door, appearing eager to leave.
“It gives me a place to start at least. Appreciate it, Michael. I always hate draggin’ you into these things… but at least you’re nice to look at,” she added in a voice laden with flippant innuendo.
“Glad to help,” insisted Michael, this time avoiding her attempt to flirt.
“I assume you guys’ll look into the Sea Hag?” the sheriff asked more seriously.
“Naturally,” he replied, grabbing Melinda’s arm, promptly departing.
“Be careful!” Mack ordered. “Don’t want to be collectin’ your bones next,” she muttered after their disappearing frames.
The sheriff put her focus back onto her investigation.
Michael took rushed steps out of the morgue and down the street. Melinda grabbed her brother’s arm, forcing him to stop.
“You’re clearly upset over what you saw. Talk to me,” she pleaded.
His bit his lip nervously, his smooth skin flushing pink. “I didn’t tell Mack everything that I saw,” he finally admitted.
“Why on earth not?”
“Because,” he started, but stopped. He looked down, shaking his head, as if he could not believe what he was about to say.
Melinda lifted his chin, making him look her in the eye. “Out with it, Michael. We don’t need two crazies in the house.”
He inhaled deeply, and upon exhaling let slip out the words, “I saw Mom.”
“What?” she breathed out in shock. “In the death reading? Just now?”
“Yes. I saw her clear as day, Melinda. And if I’d told Mack everything… our mother wouldn’t just be dead, she’d also be the number one suspect in a murder investigation.”
##
Charlie and William sat in silence thinking over what Michael had just told them. Twice, Charlie started to speak and then stopped. Finally, in an uncertain voice he got out what he was trying to say.
“Our mother shot a man? A living man? Are you absolutely sure, Michael?”
“You know how my ability works, Charlie. It’s never wrong!”
Before Charlie and Michael could allow their tempers to flare further, William intervened. “We all know that what Michael saw is truth. Therefore, logic tells us your mother had a very good reason for her actions.”
“But a man, William? Demons, other witches, any number of other supernatural creatures, sure. But why this man? Could he be the reason our parents are dead?” A low growl rumbled in his throat and the whiskers lining his face stood to attention, thickening and darkening, giving him a sudden savage disposition.
“Charlie,” Melinda spoke anxiously. “Cool it!”
Her eldest brother closed his eyes taking deep breaths to regain his control.
“Sorry,” he said after a minute. “Full moon’s really getting to me this time.”
“Yes, well, Mr. Wolfy needs to stay nice and locked up. When you get agitated you don’t think straight.”
“I am aware, Sis,” he grumbled, at the same time distressing over the panic in her voice. You have to keep it together, if not for anything else but Melinda. She’s just starting to get better…of all the times to have a case centered around our parents...
Charlie motioned that he was fine and for them to continue.
“Nothing in what I saw,” said Michael, “indicated that this man had anything to do with our parents’ deaths, but we would be stupid not to investigate it further, and regardless, we need to deal with the Sea Hag if she’s still around.”
Charlie and Melinda nodded in agreement.
“Any thoughts on where we should start, William?” Michael asked.
“Only one. We need to visit this underwater cave. That is to say, you need to visit this cave. I of course, would sink to the bottom of the ocean like a stone.”
“And as much as I would love to join this party,” added Melinda in a sarcastic tone, “you know my stance on deep water. I’m gonna leave this investigation up to you two.”
“Great,” muttered Michael, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “At least I get to watch Charlie do the doggy paddle.”
Charlie ignored the comment. “So which cave are we heading to?” he asked instead.
“It’s in Bloodsucker Bay. On the northern outlet,” his brother answered.
“Must be why the body was not discovered sooner,” William advised. “Only the most competent divers attempt to explore those caves. The weather on the northern shore is most temperamental.”
“Chances are the Sea Hag’s not even venturing into that cave anymore,” Michael added. “Mom and Dad died four years ago, so this guy’s been dead awhile. From what I’ve heard, Sea Hag’s tend to move around.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Charlie said, adding, “If this guy, or the Sea Hag, did have anything to do with our parent’s deaths, we won’t rest until we find out everything. But we’ll need time to prepare. We don’t want to end up like the dead guy.”
“Or our parents,” added Melinda in a strained voice.
Michael did not argue, as he agreed fully with his siblings on this matter.
He cringed though, feeling the uncontrolled emotions flowing freely out of his sister and brother. Another gift his Howard blood had given him. Melinda was fighting off a major panic attack and Charlie was anxious, Michael assumed, due to Melinda being in such a panic.
He tried to shut it out but his empathic ability was still somewhat new to him and he had a difficult time doing so. He worried about Melinda too, but he didn’t need Charlie’s worry loaded on top of his own.
“Sorry, Michael,” Charlie said, seeing his brother’s face. “We’re not exactly holding anything back right now. We need to be more mindful until you can handle your empathy better.”
Michael waved it off, irritated. He knew Charlie was trying to be nice, but somehow, every time he tried, all Michael heard was you’re not doing it right....
“How about we leave at first light tomorrow?” Charlie suggested.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” agreed Michael. “That’ll give me time to prepare the divin
g gear.” He scurried out of the room to start packing for their trip to Bloodsucker Bay.
“Poor Michael,” whispered Melinda. “I really don’t know how he can stand it. Having to deal with his own feelings and everyone else’s, too.” It made her feel guilty instantly.
Michael didn’t stay hidden in the house all the time. He dealt with his magical gifts. He didn’t necessarily want them, but he accepted them and was learning how to manage a daily life that came with magical gifts attached. She, on the other hand, preferred to lock herself away in her room, hoping her prophetic dreams would just go away if she didn’t interact with anyone.
She glanced up in time to catch William just looking away from her. If only all her dreams could be as pleasant as the William dream, rather than predicting tragic and sometimes gruesome deaths... she shuddered and heard Charlie say her name. “Sorry, what?”
“Since you’re getting so good at it, would you mind helping me whip up some potions?”
“Be delighted,” she answered, taking off towards the kitchen. She needed something to keep busy with, before her thoughts became overwhelming and she locked herself in the bedroom again.
“And William…” continued Charlie.
“I’ll be in my study, doing research. Perhaps there is something in your parent’s journals in regards to that cave.”
Charlie nodded his approval and William dashed away, ardently retreating to his study.
TWO
Just after four a.m. Melinda awoke quite forcefully. After catching her breath, she threw on a pair of flannel pajama pants to go along with the tank top she’d worn to bed, tiptoeing downstairs so as not to awaken her brothers, and entered the study.
“William,” she whispered, hoping he was home and not out for one of his midnight strolls.
A swoosh of air tore across the room, stopping a few feet in front of her.
“Now how could a girl not fall in love with that? Having a vampire literally fly to my aid the moment I call.”
He ignored her remark, sensing a fearful inflection in her tone as she spoke.
“The better question is why I needed to fly to your aid at this early hour? Another dream?”
“Yes. This one I definitely need help with, William.”
“Should I awaken your brothers?”
“No. They have enough to deal with already. And if I told Michael what I dreamed, he’d probably have a major freak out. Especially after seeing our Mom shoot some guy.”
“What does Michael have to do with your dream?” the vampire asked with controlled concern.
“Not Michael, Emily. The love of his life that he won’t just admit is the love of his life already.”
“Emily. This is most distressing,” William replied evenly. “Explain.”
“I didn’t see enough, William. Not nearly enough. But if I don’t figure out the who, what and how, Emily will die.”
“You did not say when or where,” he noted.
“Bookstore. Right after closing today.”
Melinda took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing another dream that would show her more. After a few minutes she opened her eyes, warily resigned to the fact that her prophetic dreams just did not happen that way.
She gave a start when William’s distressed eyes drilled into her own, just inches in front of her. She hadn’t even heard him move. He stood so close she could feel his nearness, yet he did not touch her.
“Do not worry,” he sang soothingly.
She nodded, unable to find her voice. She rarely ever saw William up so close. His skin was the epitome of perfection; smooth and pale, almost glass-like in a way. Not a wrinkle. Not a single age spot revealing his hundreds of years of living.
Melinda let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and tore her eyes away, blushing from her desire to look so closely.
He backed away, a peculiar look flitting across his face.
She swore his eyes flashed from emerald to black, but the black vanished so fast that by the time she blinked it was gone.
She hated this feeling welling up inside.
She hated that she’d had that stupid sexy dream.
She hated that she wanted it to be more than just a dream.
She needed to forget about it. Her friend needed help for goodness’ sake!
“So... what will we do about Emily?” she croaked out, finding her voice. “I want to keep Charlie and Michael out of this if we can.”
“I will not allow anything tragic to befall dear Emily. She is already as precious to me as the three of you.”
Melinda followed him to his desk. It was easily over a hundred years old and built out of Demon Isle Oak.
“She is practically like family, huh? I just wish Michael would see it.”
“He does see it. This is the problem, however. He sees her as another bar on his prison cell.”
“The Demon Isle being his prison,” Melinda said.
William nodded. “Tell me each detail regarding your dream,” he said, taking a seat behind his desk.
“Well, Emily had just locked the front door at the bookstore and unplugged the open sign. She was holding a few books in her arms heading to shelve the books before leaving. As Emily often does, she gets sidetracked browsing through the books she’s putting away. She gets all but one back on the shelf, opening the last one, and is surfing through the pages.” Melinda paused, recalling the details of her dream.
“What are you remembering?” William prodded.
“It’s odd. You know that ring Emily wears. She can’t see it, because her hand is hidden behind the book, but the ring is glimmering. Kind of a fiery color.”
“Intriguing,” muttered William.
“After the ring starts to glimmer, Emily drops the book and is screaming that it’s burning her and she’s trying to force the ring off her finger. It takes her a second, but she gets it off. And then… she’s lying on the floor, dead.”
“Just like that? Falls dead?” William asked incredulously.
“No. Not just like that. I really don’t want to see the next part again, William.”
“Melinda. This gift you possess is meant to save lives. You cannot leave out the parts you do not wish to see again, however difficult they might be to relive.”
“Why not? Isn’t it enough to know we need to find out more about Emily’s ring?”
William waited in silent defiance.
“Fine,” Melinda said begrudgingly.
Sexy dream or not, she could never say no to William.
“After Emily takes off the ring, she starts having some kind of seizure. At first she’s swatting at something, but it’s either invisible or out of my range to see, and then she just stops. Her arms drop to her sides and she falls to the floor. She’s on her back and her eyes… her eyes are open, frozen with this look of total fear.”
Melinda’s voice dropped, getting raspy as she continued.
“She’s alone, William. Totally alone and scared when she dies. And that is where my dream ended.”
William flew to her in the blink of an eye, aiming his emerald greens into her baby blues, where tears were threatening to form.
“We will not allow this tragedy to happen.” He spoke with such determination that she could only nod in reply, hoping desperately he was correct.
He reached up to touch her shoulder but his hand fell short and he stepped at human pace back to his desk.
“From what you tell me,” he said, “I am guessing that our dear Emily was not alone, and since you could not see what was attacking her, I will assume it is supernatural in nature.” He retreated into his thoughts, his face statuesque as he sat behind his desk in deep contemplation.
Melinda stepped closer to the fireplace, leaning on the arm of a sofa, her gaze getting lost in the flames. William rarely ever let it die out, even on hot summer nights. It did not warm his permanently cooled skin, but he often spoke of it like an old friend that kept him company during lonely night
s, while his human friends slept. Melinda had never understood his desire for it, as fire could also kill him.
As the flames flickered, she relived the dream again, searching for any little detail she might have overlooked. Normally, when it came to her dreams, she tried to keep herself unattached to the problem that needed fixing, preferring to act as though she were simply an outsider with a glimpse of something no one else could see. Just a thing. No big deal. Attachment meant frayed nerves and constant sorrow.
This dream, however, was not the first time she had dreamt about someone close to her dying. Unfortunately, when it had occurred the first time, Melinda had not understood that her dream was really a vision of something to come. Something she could have prevented. She had thought it just a nightmare, as it was not yet known that prophetic dreams were her magical inheritance.
A tear trickled down her cheek.
William sensed her slipping into despair and dashed again to her side.
“Melinda, this will not be like last time. I promise.”
She could not respond. The lump in her throat was too constricting to allow her to speak.
“I wish I could order you once and for all, to no longer feel guilty over something you had no control over,” he told her. William may not have had a beating heart, or blood pumping through his veins, but love and compassion emanated from him.
It was apparent to him now, that any true progress he believed Melinda had made was a lie. She had not forgiven herself at all.
“How can I?” she squeaked. “How can I ever forgive myself? Mom and Dad are dead because I didn’t stop it. And now Emily…”
William toyed with waking Charlie and Michael, fearing that Melinda would take too many steps backwards if she continued with this line of thinking.
Seeing his worry, she stood up, wiped her eyes and shook off her apprehensions. “William, please don’t look at me like that. I can see you’re disappointed with me.”
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