“My gosh, William,” Emily said, shaking her head in well meaning humor. “For a vampire who moves at speeds I can’t even fathom, you are the worst typist I have ever laid eyes on!” She marched over and motioned for him to move.
William frowned but rolled his chair out of her way.
“Okay, let’s see here. What question do you want answered, William?”
“What allows a werewolf to transform on a night that is not a full moon, at the same time allowing it to pass on its curse, as if it is a full moon?”
“Um, that’s what you want the internet to answer for you? I don’t think that answer is just going to pop up, William, I mean, it’s a bit… huh…”
“Huh, what?” Michael said, leaning over her shoulder.
“Well, I don’t really know if this is at all helpful, as this is a chat forum for a popular fantasy series, so fiction, but this one guy, his name is RadWolfman… hey, Charlie, maybe you should pick up a nickname,” she sputtered, getting sidetracked. “That would be way cool.”
Michael just rolled his eyes.
“Not such a bad idea,” said Charlie. “I’ve been called a few things over the years…” he let his sentence trail off.
William rolled back over to read the screen. Emily shot him a steely look and he retreated.
“As I was saying. This one guy, RadWolfman, he’s on here a lot, and a few months back he posted about our very topic. Apparently, there’s some heated debate surrounding a werewolf character in a book that can only change into an actual werewolf during a full moon, but, it can also transform into a regular wolf… oh,” she said, surprised. “This werewolf is also a shapeshifter. Are those real?” she asked.
William leaned back in chair, his brow furrowed as he thought on the subject.
“Yes,” Michael told her. “Shifters are real. But even if that happens to be what we’re looking for... if it was shifted into a wolf form, but not transformed into an actual werewolf, how did you get infected?” he aimed at Charlie.
“Because it is still werewolf blood,” William whispered. “The wolf still resides in those that are bitten, whether transformed or not. A shapeshifter taking on the form of a wolf could still pass on the curse. A weakened form, possibly, which could explain your wolfish nature, but why you have never fully transformed.”
William bounded out of his chair, sending it rolling across the floor behind him.
“That said, this is all conjecture. I do not pretend to know all the ins and outs of werewolfdom. It could be that the witch’s blood that courses through your veins is keeping the full transformation at bay. It could be that nothing, in the end, can keep you from a full transformation, if the right trigger is used against you. More importantly, if it is truly a shapeshifter we are searching for…”
“It could be anyone...” Michael finished.
“Oh my,” whispered Emily. “Well, maybe I should keep searching? There’s bound to be other possibilities.”
While she returned to searching, Charlie held up his phone. “Going to try and reach Melinda,” he said, stepping out of the study. He said nothing about his feelings on the shifter theory.
Before making the call, he leaned his back against the hallway wall.
“Keep it together, Charlie. Keep it together.” He closed his eyes, but the thoughts swimming through his brain threatened to overwhelm him. He wondered if this is what Melinda felt like when she was getting a panic attack. He opened his eyes and dialed her cell phone number, confused when he heard her phone ringing inside the house. He followed the sound into the kitchen.
“Damn it!” he sighed in frustration, picking her phone up off the floor. “She probably doesn’t even know she dropped it.” He leaned into the counter, thinking he could really use a shot or two of Nina’s tequila.
He had assumed Melinda would return after a few minutes. Even more, he was beginning to doubt that he was going to be able to keep his promise.
Nothing was right with this situation.
If he did transform… if the alpha took over … if he did not transform but got himself killed trying to get rid if this thing. Then what?
Say they did kill the alpha werewolf… then what?
I’m still stuck with this thing I don’t know how long I can control…it’s never going to just go away. It’s always going to be inside of me.
##
Michael explained to William about their plan to visit the crime scene, while Emily typed away on her laptop.
“Do you think it’s safe for us to venture into the park?” asked Michael. “We don’t know where this thing could be lurking.”
“Logic tells me it is safe. It is likely to be full up with tourists, as well as police scouring the area for evidence.”
“If tradition holds, lots of people would mean no supernatural creatures wanting to expose themselves,” Michael agreed. He let slip out, “I think Charlie’s losing the battle, William. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s trying so hard to keep it together, but I can feel this… fear just drowning him. He doesn’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Which is why I am coming with you today.” He held up his hand before Michael could argue. “I know the risks of coming into contact with a werewolf,” he reminded.
“I hate to admit it,” Michael began, “but I’d feel better if you were with us. If something happens and Charlie loses it, I don’t think …” Emily let out an exasperated sigh. “Something new?” Michael asked, hopeful.
“No. Nothing. Nothing at all!” she exclaimed. “Either it’s a shapeshifter, or it’s something none of us, including a four hundred year old vampire, have ever heard of, read about, or dealt with before.”
Michael sighed, casting a glance at William.
He wore his usual emotionless face.
Michael wished his empathic abilities worked on William. However, the vampire had always said that this was a good thing, as his emotions were more overwhelming than a human mind could handle.
“Let’s get this trip underway,” Michael suggested, seeing as William would give away no more about how he truly felt about their current predicament. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something.” He didn’t hold out much hope for that to happen.
They stepped into the kitchen to find Charlie.
“William’s coming with us,” Michael informed him.
“Okay,” he replied without argument. He held up Melinda’s cell phone. “She dropped it when she stormed out of here earlier.”
“She’s probably sitting down at the Wicked Muddy,” Michael said, hoping he was correct. “Grace took a liking to her. I think Melinda felt comfortable there. You know she isn’t going to stray too far. This is Melinda we’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time controlling the paranoia. The wolf really drags it out of me.”
Emily saddled into the kitchen. “Why don’t I look for her? If she’s in town, I’ll find her.”
Michael grabbed hold of her, brushing his hand against her hair and kissed her affectionately. “Thanks,” he whispered. “I know we said we’d give her some space but we’d feel a lot better if we just knew she was okay.”
Emily moved to leave but he grabbed her again, planting another kiss. “I just can’t get enough of that,” he mumbled in between their lips touching.
“You could have been getting that a long time ago if you weren’t so stubborn,” she teased.
“Don’t remind me.”
“I’ll see you later,” she mouthed, pulling away. She grabbed her bag and flitted out the door.
Once she was gone, Charlie stood ready to depart, but hesitated, leaning on the countertop.
“What?” asked Michael.
“I was thinking, since we’re heading into White Pines anyway, maybe we should take a side trip to the old tree. I had wanted us all to go together and pay our respects to Mom, and search for clues about Dad, but since we’re going to be so close…”
“What do you think, William?” asked Michael, glad that Charlie had brought it up. He’d had the thought himself, but couldn’t decide if it was appropriate considering the circumstances for their visit into White Pines.
“I don’t see the harm,” the vampire replied after a moment. “It is just minutes from the crime scene.”
“Um, that’s kind of a coincidence, don’t you think, William?” said Charlie.
“It had not occurred to me,” he replied, pondering this new quandary, as if it was some vital clue he had overlooked. “We cannot chance that it is coincidence, and if we are going to add a trip to the old tree to our itinerary, I think we’d better bring along a few precautionary items.”
“I’ll go grab some potions,” said Charlie. “We’ll be careful with them,” he aimed at Michael. “We still need to use them, regardless of what happened to Mom.”
“I know. Like you said though, we’ll be more cautious. I’ll go grab a crystal,” he added.
“And I will grab a snack, just in case,” William intimated.
“So much human blood in one week?” asked Charlie, understanding what lunch meant. “Maybe one out-of-control supernatural monster in the house is enough?” His voice reeked with sarcasm.
William’s mouth turned up into the slightest of smiles. “Ah, but I can handle my poison,” he chastised whimsically. Although after his secret blood cravings in the last twenty-four hours, he wasn’t so sure about that anymore...
Charlie could not help but laugh. It felt good to joke with William, even in the face of the dangers they likely faced in the upcoming hours.
##
Melinda told Riley to slow down and take the next right. It was a sharp turn and he nearly had to come to a complete stop to make it safely.
“Where’s it lead?” he asked curiously.
She just smiled and nodded for him to pay attention.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied.
If Melinda hadn’t pointed out the turn, Riley would never have seen it. The trail was unmarked and just wide enough for a small car to fit through. The ground was smoothed over from years of use, so the motorcycle had no trouble even though it was unpaved. The trees and bushes surrounding the sides of the road grew tall, threatening to reclaim the road to its natural wild state.
Soon, they came to a blockade of granite rock about three feet in height, and he parked the bike. A look of awe spread across his face.
“What is this place?”
“It’s where we locals like to get our kicks,” she answered, dismounting the bike and taking off her helmet. He did the same, grabbing hers and hanging them both on the bike.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Are we still in Maine?”
“Yup. Neat, huh? It’s a quarry, been here since long before I was born. To be completely honest though, I haven’t been here in years, but things don’t really change much on the Isle. C'mon,” she said, grasping his hand daringly, dragging him along to the edge.
There was no other person in sight.
Melinda shouted into the quarry. Her echo carried to the other side, repeating her shout until the last echo finally faded into the distance.
“Wicked,” Riley chuckled.
The quarry resembled a steep granite staircase, leading down to open water below. Except that you could only catch glimpses of the water as the surface was layered in drifting fog as heat hit the damp granite, warming it.
Warmed air rose up out of the quarry giving the place an almost sauna-esque feel. Off to the right, a river poured into the quarry, creating a long waterfall that splashed far below.
“A little slice of paradise,” Melinda whispered, realizing how much she missed this place. How much she missed being outdoors. How the thought of being indoors at this very moment gave her a cramped, confined feeling. How odd? To go from never wanting to go outside, to never wanting to go back inside in a single day.
Melinda turned to Riley. “So where are you visiting from?”
“Portland… Oregon, not Maine.”
Melinda sat down, dangling her feet over the edge, overlooking the quarry.
Riley joined her, sitting so close he could have easily leaned in and nibbled on her ear. She didn’t know why that picture came into her mind but her cheeks flushed at the thought of him doing so.
“The view is breathtaking,” he said.
Melinda glanced in his direction and her cheeks turned even rosier when she realized he was looking directly at her as he spoke. She let her bangs fall in front of her face, hiding behind it.
“This place almost has a tranquil, tropical sort of feel to it,” Riley said. “A person could come here and completely forget they were stuck on an island off the coast of Maine.”
“Do you feel stuck, being here on the Isle?”
“Thought I did,” he answered.
She shoved her bangs back behind her ear and looked at him questioningly.
“I just mean, maybe it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
“So you’re not just visiting?” she asked, the flutter in her stomach rippling through her nerves.
“Nope. Not a tourist. My brother talked me into moving here with him. We just arrived a couple days ago. He’s a few years older than me, been wanting to move here for awhile. I wasn’t really into it myself, but now…” he gazed into Melinda’s eyes. “I think my mind is changing.”
Melinda leaned back, the sun making an appearance again, warming her skin. It was also an excuse to look away from Riley and catch her breath. He wasn’t just a tourist. He was sticking around. She hoped her excitement wasn’t too obvious.
It was just before noon she thought, squinting into the sky. Plenty of time to discover more about her motorcycle man. And long before the moon rises and Charlie... she stopped herself, pushing the thought deeply into the recesses of her mind.
“How old are you?” she asked him, distracting herself.
“Just turned twenty-two a month ago.”
“Do you and your brother get along?”
“Sure, for the most part. He’s always on me about this and that, and basically getting my act together and growing up and being more serious, like him.”
“Sounds familiar,” she replied dryly.
“You’ve got siblings too then?”
“Couple older brothers.” Well, maybe tomorrow only one brother that matters, she thought dreadfully. Another uncertainty she pushed out of her mind.
Riley nodded, leaning down beside her.
“So, will you bite my head off if I ask you how old you are, Melinda?”
She turned her head and peered at him as if debating the question. “Nah, I’m too comfortable for biting right now.”
He waited for her to answer.
“If you must know, I’m a mere baby of twenty-one.”
“That’s hardly a mere baby,” he replied, a bit of innuendo in his tone.
“Not what my brothers think.” Her thoughts added, not like I’ve given them reason to think otherwise the last few years…
Melinda let a low, satisfied groan slip out of her mouth.
“I miss the feel of the sun on my skin,” she muttered. “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”
“It’s been a sunny summer so far,” he said. “You have fair skin, though. You probably prefer the shade, huh?”
“I actually really don’t,” she sighed, rolling onto her side to face him. “I just haven’t seen much sun recently.”
“You’re an odd girl,” he said, inching closer to her. “I don’t mean in a bad way,” he added. “The way you talk, though, it’s like you just got out of prison or something.”
She laughed. She couldn't help it.
“Oh, God. Did you? I didn’t mean…” she put her hand over his mouth.
“I’ve never been in prison,” she told him. Maybe a prison of my own design…
He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and held it in his own hand, stroking her fingers
. She was glad right then that he was human and not a vampire like William. Although, as hard as her heart was pounding she didn’t think he’d need extraordinary hearing to hear, see or feel the thudding against her chest.
“I think I’d like to know all your secrets, Melinda,” he said, assuredly, “even if you were in prison.”
She thought about that for a minute. Would he really want to know all her secrets? Being a witch came with a lot of responsibility. It also came with a lot of danger. She looked into Riley’s dark eyes. She did not think he would mind a little danger.
“What are you thinking right now?” he asked. “You just got this reckless sparkle in your eyes.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you read people really well?”
“Actually, I’ve been told that more than once. And more than once it’s gotten me into a bit of trouble.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Well, I’ve never been in prison, either, if that’s what you mean,” he raised his eyebrows humorously, allowing her hand to slide back to her side.
She bit her lip, trying to contain herself. She had been on a couple of terrible dates in the previous months, but not one of those boys could hold a candle to Riley. Not in looks or charm. Plus, she was still reeling from being all worked up over William, the off limit vampire.
It took everything she had not to reach out and stroke Riley’s face, or neck, or chest... she let out an exasperated breath and jumped up. He might be good to look at and charming, but he was still a perfect stranger, no matter how comfortable she felt around him.
“There’s something else I haven’t done in a really long time,” she told him, stepping out of her flip-flops.
“And what would that be?” he asked, rolling onto his back.
“Do you trust me?” she questioned, a bit of menace in her tone.
“Trust you? Hmm…”
He stood up, facing her as if trying to read her thoughts.
“I guess this means I do.” His voice inflected maybe… maybe not…
“You’re probably going to want to take your clothes off then,” she told him with a naughty grin. Melinda proceeded to pull off her sweater and lift her tank top over her head, while slinking out of her jean shorts, allowing them to slither down her legs to the ground.
Witches of The Demon Isle Box Set, Volumes 1, 2 & 3 Page 13