by Ruby Raine
“Yup. Scrumdiddlyumptious.” She smacked her lips, making a point to watch him walk by.
Melinda laughed. She enjoyed how the sheriff taunted her brother. He needed to be put in his place now and then.
“Where to?” Michael asked, his enthusiasm lessened.
“Yes, to the business at hand.” Mack motioned for them to follow. She entered an examination room. “Always sorry to make you do this, Michael. But we’re stumped on this one.”
“Always glad to help,” Michael insisted. He attempted eagerness, but wasn’t fooling anyone.
Mack locked the door behind them. “I asked my deputy to leave. Told him I needed time to do my own investigatin’. Better to keep’em in the dark about this whole crazy supernatural thing as long as possible I figure. New guy’s gonna work out great though. ‘Course, I said that about the last guy.”
Melinda chuckled.
Michael stared at the examination table, which Mack stepped over to and gently lifted a sheet and exposed an intact skeleton.
“Drybones is right.” Michael let out with a whistle.
Melinda would have, but she had never really been able to whistle, so she just replied with a wide-eyed, astonished nod.
The skeleton was lying flat on its back, except for the skull, which was turned as if staring at the siblings. Even skinless, its mouth stuck open in a horrified silent scream, its final terrified moments permanently etched into the bones.
“Sure is something ain’t it?” said Mack. “Called you guys ‘cause I’ve never seen bones come in as clean as these. At first, we weren’t even sure they were real. Sure enough they are. Looks like something came across the body and just plain sucked everything right off ‘em!”
Michael stepped closer. He’d never seen anything like it. Whenever Mack called on his services, it was usually someone recently deceased, that still had muscle and skin attached to the bones.
“Diver found these bones in an underwater cave in Bloodsucker Bay,” Mack explained further. “After initial examination we confirmed it’s a male, and found damage that seems to indicate some kind of trauma.” She pointed out the spot, just to the side of where the heart should have been.
“Considering where they were found, and the condition of the bones,” aimed 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. Hags attack their victims using a poison that releases from tentacles they call hair.”
“Icky,” shuddered Melinda.
“I’m with her,” agreed Mack. “Nice to see you out and 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 concentrated breath and extended his arm out to touch the bones. “Why don’t we find out what really happened,” he muttered, 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 inquired, 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 madman, 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.” Mack raised her eyebrow in sarcastic seduction, her tone laden with flippant innuendo.
“Glad to help,” insisted Michael, this time avoiding her attempt to flirt.
“You guys’ll look into the Sea Hag?” the sheriff assumed.
“Naturally,” he replied, grabbing Melinda’s arm, promptly departing.
“Be careful!” Mack ordered. “Don’t want to be collectin’ your bones next,” she mumbled after their disappearing frames.
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.
He bit his lip, unease spreading splotches of red across his smooth skin.
“I didn’t tell Mack everything I saw,” he finally admitted.
“Why on earth not?”
“Because,” he started, but stopped. He looked down with a shake of his head, unable to 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 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 allowed 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 Charlie’s 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. 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 your shit 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. What perfect-ass timing! Charlie motioned that he was fine and for them to continue.
“Nothing in what I saw,” explained Michael, “indicated that this man had anything to do with our parent’s 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,” Melinda spoke in a sarcastic drone, “you know my stance on ocean dives and ca
ve exploring. So not going to happen. I’ll leave this investigation up to you two.” Like usual, she chided herself.
“Great,” murmured Michael, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “I get to watch Charlie do the doggy paddle.”
Charlie ignored the comment. “So which cave are we heading to?”
“It’s in Bloodsucker Bay. On the northern outlet,” relayed his brother.
“Must be why the body wasn’t discovered sooner,” William assumed. “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 said. “Mom and Dad died four years ago, so this guy’s been dead a long time. From what I’ve heard, Sea Hags tend to move around.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” huffed Charlie. “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,” reminded Melinda in a strained voice.
Michael did not argue as he agreed fully with his siblings on this matter.
He cringed though, the uncontrolled emotions flowing freely out of his sister and brother piling on top of his own. He could do without this gift his Howard blood had given him. Melinda was fighting off a major panic attack and Charlie was anxious, Michael imagined in part, 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 piled on top of his own.
“Sorry, Michael,” Charlie apologized, 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, nothing but irritation rampant in his glower. Charlie was trying to be nice, but somehow, every time he tried, all Michael heard was, you’re not fucking 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 diving gear.” He hurried 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 filled her with guilt 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 like a silly teenage girl (pathetic, seeing as she was twenty-one), hoping her prophetic dreams would just go away if she didn’t interact with anyone.
Melinda glanced up in time to catch William just looking away from her. Did he think of her as a silly girl? How could he think of her as anything but? Nothing more than a dream, it’s all they’d ever be. 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 calling her name as if he’d said it a couple of times.
“Sorry, what?”
“I was thinking, 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 parents’ journals regarding that cave.”
Charlie nodded his approval and William dashed away, ardently retreating to his study.
IT WAS THE MIDDLE OF the night.
Melinda fisted her bed sheets. She kicked the one across her body needing it off her overheated skin, which glistened, covered in a feverish dew.
Her breaths came out heavy.
Her chest rose, her back arching.
Fists gripped the sheets with sheer need to grasp onto something.
The dream was vivid.
Intense.
So very, very real.
She was standing in the kitchen in near total darkness, barely able to see the silhouette of her own hand in front of her eyes. But William’s presence charged the air behind her, his vampiric chill not quite touching her skin, a mere breath away. An invisible energy field pulsed between them, drawing them to each other. Icy fingers drifted through her hair, sliding across her right shoulder.
Air caught in her lungs finding no escape. Melinda steadied herself, placing her hands on the counter in front of her. She let out a fiery exhale when he pulled her hair off her neck and brushed the brown strands over to the left side, tucking them out of his way. Melinda didn’t have it in her to turn and look at him. But she knew his eyes were glued to the vein in her neck by the wanton groan chilling the air over her ear.
Icy fingers drew across her back, the zing of the zipper on her dress shooting her heart into overdrive and leaving cold air caressing her bare skin. Bare skin! She wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. This was definitely a regular dream and not a prophetic one, as she’d never dare walk around in a thin dress, wearing nothing at all underneath.
“Let go of the counter,” William commanded, his voice a lustful whisper.
She did. The dress slid over her shoulders, slinking down her arms. It fell to the floor, pooling around her ankles.
The air suddenly turned cold. Licking at her skin. But fire burned in her veins, heat flaring down to her center. His arms snaked around her, his embrace possessive.
Cold, stone-hard arms imprisoned her breasts, taunting her nipples into taut peaks. His left arm sank lower, pressing her stomach into him, skin against skin. His coolness against her warmth, thick hardness between them. Her legs, jelly. His grip keeping her on her feet.
“Do you want me to touch you, Melinda?”
“Yes.” It was the only word she could speak, but her mind shouted, Yes. Please, God. Yes. Her arms wrapped around his hips, her warm fingers sliding down his thighs. His icy skin trembled underneath her fiery touch.
Cool breath and lips against her neck sent a shudder from her chest down to her stomach, vibrating into her core.
His fingers followed the trail of her shudder, frost penetrating her fevered skin. He stopped, pausing on her inner thigh.
“Please, William.” She couldn’t wait.
He let out a savage breath, his eyes a ravenous black. His arm tightened around her breasts, his icy grip rubbing against her peaks, shooting red-hot pulses downward.
She gasped when there was a tight pinch on her neck.
He groaned. He could not bite her. Not yet.
Ice invaded her heat, her response a torrent of urgent breath.
He cradled the swollen fire between her legs, each stroke pushing her closer to release. William groaned, fangs drawing against her skin. He needed to taste her. Had to. His lips quivered against her neck.
Melinda’s legs faltered.
William’s grasp held firm, his left arm imprisoning her body against his.
She lifted off the floor. His right hand widened the gap between her legs, kneading her heated nub; squeezing, stroking, trapping her in complete ecstasy.
“William,” she moaned, with a buck of her hips.
Fangs sank into her neck.
The back of her head pushed against his chest. Fingernails dug into his thighs shooting daggers of pain surging into her hands in the effort. She writhed underneath his ensnaring hold of her.
Blood sucked up through her body, into his mouth. His hand didn’t release its attack of her center. He stroked her with tenacious determination, her swell throbbing aga
inst his fingers.
Melinda’s body tensed, a glorious spasm erupting.
She expelled a frenzied exhale.
He yanked his fangs out of her, a primal gasp seething over her head. Blood spattered through the vampire’s sated lips.
Her head fell forward, their euphoria coming out in an echo, almost as if it was someone else and she was suddenly just listening from a distance.
William’s cold grip released her body. A curtain of darkness slid over her, the dream plunged into total darkness. Total quiet, other than heavy breaths escaping her own lips.
“William?” she called out breathlessly. Her vampire wasn’t there anymore. He’d been torn out of her dream.
Her vampire.
Melinda had to stop thinking like that. Just dreams. Not real. Never going to be real.
There were clothes against her skin. Shoes on her feet. Warm air brushing across her cheeks. Melinda’s eyes flickered open. The remnants of the William dream drenched her center, leaving her aching to go back.
She wasn’t in the kitchen any longer. It wasn’t dark. She was surrounded by shelves filled with books. No more William. No more magic fingers.
Her hand jerked up to her neck, no fang wounds. A sting still forged into her skin. The memory of his teeth sinking in, vivid. Lifelike. But there was no mark. It hadn’t happened for real. It was just a dream. Only ever a dream.
Her hand dropped. Disappointment and frustration flaring through her nostrils.
Freaking dreams are going to be the death of me!
“So where am I now?”
She turned around, recognizing her surroundings.
A bookstore. Not just any bookstore.
“Emily’s bookstore.”
Melinda spun in a circle, the lusty fire still lit inside of her, stripped suddenly away, leaving only dread in its wake. Emily Morgan raced up the stairs with a stack of books in her hand, her lanky ponytail bobbing behind her.
“Oh, no. No. No. No. No. No...” Melinda let out in a panicked heave.
All heated desire froze, turning into sharp stakes, which cut into her core slicing and dicing the sexual frenzy. Heavy breaths over William’s invasion of her body turned to alarmed exhales.