WE WITCHES THREE BOOK 6

ISLE OF FLAMES

EVA JORDAN RUSHED INTO the house shouting for her father. She’d just escaped the clutches of Charlie Howard after lying to him that she was pregnant with his child.

Or was she pregnant? She wasn’t entirely sure. The Firebrand Feyk had done something to her. If it wasn’t a fake pregnancy, what was it?

And she didn’t even want to think about the possibility that she might actually be pregnant. Kids were not in her future. She preferred independence.

Anthony Jordan, her father, appeared from out of the kitchen meeting her in the foyer. He leaned calmly against the doorframe with a filled mug of coffee and took a swig.

Eva proceeded to pass him, grab a suitcase from a closet and disappear into her room. “We have to leave. Now.”

He remained calm, watching his daughter make a mad dash to pack. “Why do we have to leave?”

“Char- the Howards found us out! They’ll be coming for us. We don’t have much time so start packing.”

“This is not necessary,” her father disagreed, far too calmly considering what she’d just revealed.

Eva spun around, hands on her hips. “You think they’ll just ignore everything we’ve done? I killed that Guardian Charlie was crazy about. Not that I had a choice. She threatened to tell the Howards who I was. But I also broke into their house and stole their father’s diary. I am the alpha werewolf Charlie thought he already killed. I don’t think he’ll have a problem killing me again.”

“Being a bit dramatic, Eva, don’t you think?”

She let out a sharp gasp. “Dramatic? You are kidding me, right?”

Anthony waved her off.

What the heck was wrong with him? She needed him to see reason. “Dad, is this vendetta of yours worth dying for? Because that’s what’s coming.” There was no other way to put it. Death was coming for them in the form of the Howard Witches.

“It’s our vendetta,” her father reminded with a stern glower. “And don’t worry, Eva. Charlie Howard is not going to kill you. I’ve taken measures to ensure this.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me, Dad?”

“What aren’t you telling me?” he returned.

“Games? Really?” She continued with her rushed packing.

“The Feyk took care of everything,” claimed Anthony. “Charlie Howard will not sacrifice his own child to kill you.”

Eva froze. Dumbstruck.

How did her father know this?

“I might not win the father-of-the-year award, but you are my daughter, Eva. I am quite aware of what’s been going on between you and Charlie.”

She fumed in speechless anger and humiliation.

Her father had discovered her secret. That she’d been sneaking out of the house at night. Not so much her, as her wolf. Eva had been more of an unconscious participant to her wolf’s depraved desires. Mainly consisting of playing the part of the submissive wolf to Charlie Howard. He would pay for that. I don’t submit to anyone. Even my father.

“It’s not your fault, Eva. I don’t blame you,” he continued. “It’s your wolves reacting to each other. Nature, taking course. But seeing as it was happening, I decided we could use it to our advantage.”

Eva opened her mouth to reply, her breath catching. “Let me get this straight... you let my nighttime romps with Charlie Howard continue, rather than put a stop to it, because you thought you could use it, me, to our advantage? And you did this all behind my back?”

“I couldn’t have stopped it, Eva. Even if you had made the choice to confide in me, and fill me in on what was happening, you’d still have gone romping off at night with Charlie Howard. You chose not to tell me. I chose not to interfere.”

“Oh, so no stopping it. But using your daughter to your advantage is okay? Letting another man take advantage of your daughter is...”

Anthony growled. “It wasn’t like that and you know it!”

“You could have locked me up. Kept me the heck away from him.”

“And have werewolf-Charlie storming the house to get to you. You can’t fight nature, Eva. For whatever reason, your wolves saw each other as potential mates. And to be frank, it would have been a smart match if you’d gotten Charlie under your control as originally planned.”

“So now this is all somehow my fault? Because I wasn’t able to get Charlie to submit to me as his alpha?”

“No. I’m saying it is what it is. It’s over now. Let’s move on.”

“I cannot believe you did this to me,” she stammered hotly. “But you’re right about the moving on part. We don’t have time to argue. They’re coming. Screw packing, let’s just leave the Isle.”

“Eva, we are not leaving. You need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Dad, I don’t think you’re grasping the seriousness of what’s happened. It’s over! We came. We tried. We lost!”

“No. I do understand. But I’ve taken care of things. We have time.”

Eva sucked on her lips, many choice words wanting to spew through them at her father, but what came out was, “The Feyk, they did do this to me, right? Just a trick? Please tell me I’m not actually pregnant.” I so can’t deal with this crap right now.

“No. You’re not pregnant, Eva. But it’s real in the eyes of Charlie Howard, and therefore will keep you safe. And alive. Which is my point. I could not stop nature from taking course, but it gave me the chance to protect you.”

“And in protecting me, if this also just so happens to work to your advantage,” she added snidely.

Anthony shrugged. “It gives us more time. What more can I say? If I hadn’t asked the Feyk to do it, do you think you’d still be alive right now?”

She let out an aggravated sigh. No. She would not be alive. Without that second heartbeat, Charlie would have killed her. But she hated that her father had done this to her behind her back.

More than that, she was starting to see his point. They thought a lot alike, her and her father. She’d have done the same thing in a heartbeat.

“So if it’s fake, why can’t I shift? I thought the shifter gene only went dormant during pregnancy?”

“The spell the Feyk used is very powerful. Your body sees the pregnancy as real.”

“And you don’t think that’s a bad idea? Taking away my ability to shift?” Her voice was calmer now. “How fast does it wear off?”

He hesitated.

“Dad?”

“A couple of days, or so.”

“Days? Are you serious?”

“It doesn’t affect your wolf. Only the shifter part of you.”

“Oh, that’s totally helpful. I can grow my nails, get some sharp teeth and turn my eyes yellow, unless you’ve figured out how to have a full moon each night of the month. It’s only my shifter side that can turn at will, Dad.”

“I am aware. But considering the alternative...”

“You mean me being dead?”

“Naturally I’d rather keep you alive. Besides, you can still let a little of the wolf free, like you said. That includes some of the strength.”

“I really don’t see how this gives us extra time, other than to get off this island. Yes, it kept me alive. But Charlie will figure out I’m faking it. I still vote for leaving. Immediately.”

“I’m not leaving until I finish what I came here to do,” Anthony barked impatiently.

“A few more days is all we need. We know the location of the power source, we just need to figure out how to get inside. The Feyks have guaranteed me they have something special in store for the Howards. Their attention will be elsewhere. And if we do reach the power source, we won’t be the ones fleeing The Demon Isle.”

Eva closed her eyes, fisting her hands. “And if we don’t succeed? Then what? I’ll ask it again, Dad. Is this vendetta worth dying for? Because I’m telling you they are coming for us, Feyks keeping them busy or not. Me being pregnant, or not.”

“I will avenge your mother’s murder with my own dying breath if I have to,” he blasted in a raised voice. “The Howard’s will pay for killing her. They must!”

“I want them to pay, Dad,” Eva agreed. “But maybe this is not the time. Maybe we need to try again, later, when we’re not freaking dead!” She darted into the hallway scouring inside a basket for keys. They could drive to the ferry; there was one leaving in just a few minutes if they hurried.

Anthony followed her, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “This is our only chance,” he beseeched his daughter. “The Howards have been in control of this Isle for too long, killing anything they see as a threat because of a power source only they have a right to control. What gives them that right? What gave them the right to kill your mother?”

“Don’t act like this is all about the Howards, Dad. It’s not like Mom was just here vacationing,” spat out Eva. “She was here for you. Remember? Spying on the witches... searching for the mysterious power source. Your obsession. Not hers.” There was a hint of blame in her tone.

“She didn’t do anything that warranted her execution!” he blasted back, his rage level rising.

“We don’t know what happened! Only that the Howards killed her. Yes! I want them to pay for that. But not at the expense of our lives, too. Your obsession over the power source is going to get us both killed. Face it, Dad! This is Howard territory and we’re outnumbered.”

“We have the Feyks.”

“That’s not enough.”

“I’m not leaving,” said Anthony stubbornly. “I will avenge your mother. And if finding the power source and dethroning the Howards requires my life, then I give it freely.”

“Now that, is a sentiment I can agree with...”

It wasn’t Eva or her father who said it. They gasped and swung around facing the front door, which she’d left open.

A set of villainous emerald eyes glared back at them. “Surprise...” hissed the vampire. He’d heard every word of their conversation.

“William Wakefield,” stated Anthony. He’d only had brief encounters with the vampire, but had studied up on the topic for just such an occasion.

“I feel it’s only fair to tell you, Mr. Jordan, that your information is incorrect. It was not the Howards who killed your wife.”

“She died on the Isle.”

“True. And as you are already aware, she was not innocent,” rebuked William. “In reality, quite the contrary. She left no choice but to stop her using any means necessary. Regardless, her life was not ended at the hands of a Howard.”

“I do not believe you,” sputtered Anthony.

“You should,” William warned with a severe stare.

Anthony opened his mouth to speak but Eva blurted out, “Does Charlie know you’re here?”

“No. And it is of little concern to me. You can only imagine how intriguing it was to be roaming the Isle last night and happen upon Charlie’s scent. I tracked him with the intent of discerning a specific problem, but to my delight, I caught a second scent, got curious, and followed.”

Eva wanted to shout a hundred different things at her father. If he’d just stopped her from seeking out Charlie, rather than try to use the situation to his advantage, the vampire would not be at their door right now.

“I have to admit,” continued William evenly. “I did not expect it to lead me to your door. Alas, here I am. And thank you for speaking so freely, your conversation has been most illuminating. It places many pieces to the puzzle I’ve been trying to put together. And with everything I just heard you discussing, well, need I say more?” His lip curled into a deadly snarl.

Eva wracked her brain for a way out. The vampire would tell the Howards all he’d heard, and they would return for them. She imagined, aimed to kill. They had little time or chance of escape. Everything her father had done to protect her and give them more time was for nothing. They should have fled the moment she came home, just like she originally believed.

She lifted her chin in defiance. “Charlie thinks I’m pregnant with his child. So don’t go getting any ideas, Vampire. He’d never forgive you, would he? If you killed his unborn child...”

“Except that you are lying.”

“Will he believe you?” she challenged.

“Never mind all this,” Anthony protested. “None of this matters because you cannot get into the house unless we invite you in.”

Eva hoped this would bide them some time. Not much, but if they were lucky, just enough to get away.

William grinned darkly. “I am afraid you would also be wrong about that fact.” He took a deliberate step through the front door, standing inside.

“How?” Eva choked out. She glanced at her father with a silent demand. How did you not know this? He ignored her, the seriousness of the situation becoming alarmingly real.

William sighed satisfactorily. “Myth,” he explained, his emerald eyes shooting daggers of hatred in their direction. “I am surprised that in all your research, Mr. Jordan, you did not discover this vital piece of information.” 

Anthony just grunted in reply.

“I should have put two and two together a long time ago,” William lamented. “Your mother was a shifter as well,” he aimed at Eva. “She left an... impression on me. More like a deep hatred and distrust of all shifters. Although to be perfectly honest, I had no idea she was a werewolf. In retrospect, it was a smart choice not to rip out her heart. Her blood would have,” Anthony cut him off in an enraged stammer.

“You? You killed my wife?”

“I broke her neck,” William spoke sharply, and without remorse. “And after I broke her neck, I kicked her lifeless carcass over a cliff. Let’s just say the fall was... messy.” William gnashed his fangs at them. “I wish I’d bitten her now, one bite would have done her in. Vampire venom is a painful death sentence for any werewolf,” he directed at Eva.

“Your threats are meaningless, Vampire. My bite will do the same to you.” In a blink, Eva’s eyes glowed yellow, a low snarl catching behind her teeth.

William made to lunge at her. It was not his intention however, and when she bounded into the air to meet him he bent backwards, and dashed straight underneath her. Eva landed on the spot he’d been, spinning around, poised to strike again.

With a whipping snap and a crack, her father’s body slumped to the floor.

Lifeless. His head bent at an uncomfortable angle.

Eva froze, her shocked gaze staring into the bulging dead eyes of her father. Her breath came out in heavy gushes. “You- you killed him. How could you?”

“Oh, was I wrong about your intentions?” William’s caustic timbre accused. “Are you not here to, how did you put it? Dethrone the Howards and take over the Isle...” With a blink, his emerald eyes blazed with savage darkness, daring her to attack him.

It was time to end this. To fix his mistakes. To set things right once again.

Eva’s fury erupted. “You filthy bloodsucker.” She could not shift, but she willed every ounce of strength and ferocity her wolf could give her without a full moon. “You killed my mother. And my father. I will destroy you!” She lunged forward intending on sinking her teeth into the vampire’s skin.

But William was faster. And stronger. And intensely determined. He thrust out his arm stopping her in midair, his icy fingers gripping around her throat.

Her arms and legs flailed as she attempted to scratch at him and escape.

He squeezed harder.

Her hands flew up trying to pull away his icy grip.

“Where is the diary you stole from my desk?” he interrogated.

She refused to answer.

His grip threatened to crush her neck, her gasps for air getting thicker.

“I’m only asking one more time, Eva. If you refuse, you will join your mother and father.”

She tried to shift into anything other than her human form cursing that she could not until the fake pregnancy spell had worn off. Her father had done this to save her life. Now it would kill her.

Like William had just done to her father. And had done to her mother when she was just a kid. This vampire had stolen everything from her. She did not care about the power source like her father. But she wanted this vampire to suffer. Painfully and slowly.

A new fury surfaced. Eva wanted to feel her teeth puncturing the vampire’s skin, ending him. But that would be too quick. Painful yes. But far too quick. And the lack of oxygen was making her head dizzy and weakening her attempts to release his grip. 

William grew tired of her silence and flung Eva into the living room. It took little effort on his part. She crashed into a wall, but never hit the floor. William rushed in, caught her, and slammed her back up against the wall.

She gasped, the wind knocked out of her. Eva could not get her werewolf strength to surface long enough to overpower his grip. His fingers slipped through her long white locks and around her throat again. 

“Is this what Howards do?” she choked out. “Kill the competition?”

“This is what I do,” stated William. “And this is not, nor will it ever be, a competition.”

“How many people have you killed for them?”

“I do not keep count.”

“My father was right. You’re out of control.”

“I am in perfect control,” disputed William, squeezing harder. “I do what needs to be done. My job is to protect the Howards. When it comes to their lives, I. Do. Not. Play. Games. The diary, Ms. Jordan?” His tone warned she was out of time.

“It’s over there,” Eva claimed, using her eyes to point over his shoulder.

William, surprised she caved so easily, took a chance glance. He did not loosen his grip, however.

“I do not believe you.” 

“Go look for yourself.”

“So you can attempt escape? I don’t think so.” 

Eva didn’t see a way out. He had her pinned so that she could not bite him. And once he had the diary he’d have no need to keep her alive.

William contemplated what to do with Eva. There wasn’t any silver. Sign of a werewolf living in the house. Without silver to immobilize Eva, his only other option was vampire blood. A bite would kill her, which he wasn’t ready to do until he’d gotten the diary. But his blood would poison her, weakening her so she could not escape.

There was also the issue of getting too close to Eva’s teeth and getting bitten; an automatic death sentence for him.

He held her firmly against the wall with his left hand, took his right hand and using a fingernail, sliced across her chest. Eva squirmed and convulsed underneath his grip fully aware of what was coming.

The act sent a shiver of pleasure washing through him.

The fear emanating off her fed the darkness inside him, stirring the monster he normally kept buried, deep.

“You’re a sick prick!” she spat at him.

“You should take a look in the mirror.”

William sliced his arm, the one gripping her neck, and allowed the blood to drip down his arm and splash onto her porcelain skin. It seeped into her wound, pumping its way through her veins.

Eva forced her mouth closed, refusing to give him the pleasure of hearing her cry out as his poison seared her insides. Burning away her healthy blood.

The effect took hold in an instant.

Her muscles gave way underneath his fingers. Her breathing slowed and her eyes fluttered. But not until her body went limp did he loosen his grip and let her slide to the floor. He propped her on her butt, back against the wall. Her head tilted to the side.

“What are you going to do?” she breathed out raggedly. “Drag me back to Charlie, let him finish me off?”

William replied with a dead stare. 

Eva tried to get up but her legs faltered. The poisonous blood raged through her, paralyzing the ability to control her muscles. She commanded her arms to move, but they would not. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open.

Certain she could not escape, William scoured the room for the diary, finding it almost instantly. “Huh. It was actually where you said it would be.” He was surprised she’d told the truth.

“It’s called trust,” she rattled in slurred sarcasm.

“It’s called, you want to live.”

Something she didn’t have much longer to do.

He had the diary. He had no need for her to be alive. And she was helpless to stop him.

Her eyes followed him as he glanced through the diary, checking it was still intact with no pages missing. Nothing was, but Eva’s scent was on each page. She’d read the entire thing.

This sealed her fate, above all else.

William heard a strange hissing and looked up to see a fading ghoulish grin.

It had appeared out of nowhere and was disappearing just as fast. William darted across the room straight into a smoky eruption.

When it had cleared, Eva Jordan was gone.

William punched his fist through the wall. It caused him no pain and did not take away his anger. He should have killed her and searched for the diary after. He’d hesitated, just in case he needed to interrogate her again.

He had found the stolen diary, however, because of his hesitation he’d let the one person who had read it, get away. And she was now in the hands of a Firebrand Feyk.

##

EVA JORDAN COULDN’T believe her luck.

She’d been just minutes from death.

And here she was now, no longer within the vampire’s grasp. 

Unfortunately, she’d been left nearly paralyzed by his poisonous blood. It could take a day before she regained her strength. Maybe longer.

She darted her eyes back and forth taking in her surroundings. The Feyk had brought her to the old fort on the outer shores of The Demon Isle. It was located at the backside of White Pines Mountain on the southwestern side of the Isle. Only remnants of the fort remained; it hadn’t been used in over a hundred years and was currently off limits to tourists as the path to reach it was in disrepair and too dangerous to cross.

She’d scouted out this location for her father a couple weeks ago.

Her father, dead. His lifeless eyes bulging out at her.

She’d see to it his death was avenged. The vampire thought she was the sick prick... well now he’d witness her wrath personally.

“Welcome,” greeted a slithery voice.

Her eyes lifted to find the face. “You,” she slurred indignantly. It was the Feyk that had cast the fake pregnancy spell on her. He proceeded to pull her up and prop her against the fort wall, which she was too weak to do on her own.

“Half-dead and still filled with venom,” he punned sarcastically.

“Funny,” scowled Eva, unable to hold the pose for long. 

“This is the second time we’ve saved your life.”

“How... noble... of you.” Her vocal chords were slow to react to the words she told her brain to say. “I’m sure... you want... nothing... in return.”

“We can help you,” claimed the Feyk. “Can’t cure you of the vampire blood, that will require time, but we can give you a bit of your mobility back. Get the healing process moving a little faster.”

Eva despised the way their speech slithered out of their creepy wide mouths. She supposed it was air catching on their dagger-like teeth. She also supposed it did not matter how they spoke if they could actually help her.

“What do you want... in return?” she needed to know first.

“We’ll discuss this in a few minutes. First, drink this.” He showed her a vial filled with a thick red liquid.

“What is it?”

“My my, aren’t we testy considering.”

“Fine.”

He helped her hold the vial to her mouth as she drank the contents. It was slick and slid down her throat with ease. There was no taste she recognized other than something perhaps metallic.

Within seconds, her facial muscles gained a bit of tension. She blinked a few times waking up the muscles. She was still weak, very weak, but breaths came easier. There was still no voluntary movement in her arms or legs; that would take more time to heal.

“Thanks. That is better.” Her vocal chords didn’t labor as hard in the attempt to speak. 

“Manners, always a bonus,” chimed the Feyk.

Eva was pleasantly surprised that when she tried to shift her head, it did so ever so slightly. Just enough for her to properly take in her surroundings. She was surprised to see at least forty Firebrand Feyks hanging around. Each as unpleasant looking as the other with their gaunt faces, oversized toothy grins, short wiry bodies and eyes that shouted do not trust me.

It sent a shudder up her spine. At least it would have if she had any control over that action. Instead of a shudder, she got stuck with a doubtful pit in her gut. Was this fate any better than what the vampire had in store for her?

“So what do you want from me?” Eva was thrilled that it took much less effort to talk and her speech was no longer slurred from lack of muscle control in her throat. 

“First, let me introduce myself, properly. I am Sir Tinkham Sickereaux... folks round my parts call me Stricker.”

“And you’re who? Firebrand number one?” she raised an eyebrow in ill-tempered question. It was about the only move she could make right now.

“I’d be a little more grateful if I were you. We did just save you from the vampire. Which I understand is an agonizing way to go for your kind.”

“You’ll have to excuse me if I’m not in a socializing mood. I just watched my father get murdered by that vampire.”

“My deepest sympathies,” said Stricker with a bow. He stood erect again, a plotting grin on his face.

Eva shuddered. Was that a real shudder? Whatever potion they’d given her, it was kicking in. Her body had not outwardly moved, but she swore there was the slightest sensation of movement along her spine.

She frowned.

The Feyk may have saved her life, but she still didn’t like them, or trust them.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we? You saved my life for a reason. The first time may have been at my father’s bequest, but why did you this time?”

“Your father charged us with protecting you. We did. He hired us to keep the Howard Witches busy while you schemed and plotted. We did.”

She lifted her brow in argument. She’d nearly been caught sneaking out of the Howard mansion because the Feyks had not kept the Howards busy enough. She kept her thoughts to herself. No need to piss the Feyk off.

“Our bargain is fulfilled,” Stricker went on. “Your father’s death, however tragic, has ended our agreement. So we’ve taken on a new job. Actually, we’ve hired ourselves. We’re pretty good at what we do.”

“And my part in your plan?” 

“What we want, my shifty friend, is a certain diary of which your father spoke.”

“Of course you do,” reeled Eva bitterly. “You’re too late. The vampire has it.”

A sound of disappointment slipped out of Stricker’s mouth. “Too bad. Too bad.”

“I’m thinking I could guess why you want it.” She paused, debating what to say next. She needed to play her cards right. Make a smart deal. “You want to know where the power source is located.”

“Naturally.”

She shifted her head again, getting a better view of his face. “It might please you to know then, Stricker, that I’ve read the entire diary.”

His eyes perked up. His oversized mouth turning up in a knowing grin. “Looks like we might just have a bargain in the making.”

“What are your terms?” Eva wanted to hear his first. 

“Simple. You tell us where the source is located, how we access it, and in return we will get you off the Isle. Alive and in one piece.”

Reasonable, she thought to herself. She wouldn’t get off the Isle alive on her own. At least not until she’d fully healed from the vampire blood.

“There’s only one problem,” she began.

“And that would be?”

“The diary only said where they believe the power source is located. It’s not a sure thing. And they were not certain how to reach it as there were magical protections and traps surrounding it.”

“Expected.”

Something dawned on Eva. It must have shown on her face. More control returning, but it had also given her away.

“There’s something else?” Stricker prodded.

“Possibly.”

The Feyk chuckled. “You have additional terms?”

She took a greedy breath. “I want the vampire dead. Do what you want with the Howards. Don’t care. But the vampire dies.”

“You must have something positively grand to offer. I’m sure to lose a few Feyk trying to off a vampire.”

“I can help you with that part, no need to lose your own men.” If you can even call Feyk, men. “If you want the power source, Stricker, you’re going to have to make this deal. I want the vampire dead. And I especially want him to suffer.”

“Lucky for you, suffering is our specialty.” Stricker lifted his beady eyes in acknowledgement. “And you don’t care what happens to the Howards?”

Eva thought for a moment. Now that they knew who she was, they’d never stop hunting her. They’d signed her death warrant. She couldn’t live looking over her shoulder at every turn.

“Doubts?” questioned the Feyk. “Heart aches a little for the werewolf Howard, perhaps?”

“No,” she asserted flatly. “Not at all. Just rethinking things. It might be advantageous after all if you kill the lot. And their friends. Girlfriends. Boyfriends. Relatives. Maybe just wipe out this entire waste of an island.”

“You are a sinfully wicked wolf,” he replied, his tone aroused.

Eva shuddered. A small icy shudder. The smallest of spasms down her spine.

“So where is the power source?” Stricker’s bony fingers rubbed together in greedy anticipation. “The heart and soul of the Demon Isle.”

“You think I’m just going to lay all my cards on the table just like that?” she returned. “No way. Not until I can see you’re able to fulfill your part of the bargain.”

“You have to give us something,” he advised in a hardened coldness. 

“Fine. I won’t tell you where it is. Not yet. But I will reveal who can get you through the door and around the traps. He won’t be easy to reach; he’s trapped somewhere himself right now.”

“Go on,” Stricker urged.

“You need to track a thing called a Soul Hunter. There’s one stuck on the Isle.”

“Really? Here on The Demon Isle? That shouldn’t prove a difficult task. We’ve made deals with their kind before. But what does this Soul Hunter have to do with the power source?”

“It got trapped while looking for the source, years ago I guess. But it’s not the Hunter you need. It’s the man currently its prisoner.”

“Interesting... very interesting. And this man would be?”

“None other than Jack Howard.”

“Dearest Daddy Jack? I thought him dead.”

“So does everyone, but he’s not. At least according to the diary.” She made note of this fact, in case he’d forgotten that she’d read it. “Jack is a prisoner of the Soul Hunter, and he’s the only witch that’s ever opened the door that leads to the power source. The Hunter did this as well, but was caught in one of the traps. You’ll need Jack Howard if you want to succeed.” There was no point in leaving out the part where the Hunter had accessed the power source. The Feyk would find out easy enough if they spoke to it.

“And let’s just say we do free Dearest Daddy Jack. I highly doubt he’s going to just let us in and show us around out of the goodness of his heart.”

It was Eva’s turn to wear a wicked grin. The potion provided by the Feyk combined with bursts of adrenaline, energized her.

“No. He won’t,” she agreed. “However, there is something else inside he and the rest of the Howards, including the vampire, will want to get to. And that’s how you’ll get in.”

The Feyk waited breathlessly for her to explain.

“A body,” Eva explained. “The body of Jack Howard’s dead wife.”

##

IT WAS ALMOST THE FOURTH of July, but rather than planning a barbecue, or deciding whether to watch the local parade, Melinda Howard stood in the basement of the mansion staring down Riley Deane. She hoped the spell cast by the Feyk was removable. The spell amplified anger and rage; something Riley was focusing entirely on William, seeing him as in the way of his relationship with Melinda.

An endless spewing of hatred flew out of Riley’s mouth. She’d never witnessed anything like it and did her best to overlook the nasty things he said, knowing it wasn’t really him speaking. 

“Riley, please calm down,” she pleaded for the umpteenth time. “This is for your own good, believe me.”

They’d spent hours searching for him during the night and early morning when Melinda had thought of the quarry. A place the two of them had visited together. They had lucked out and found him there, but he’d sprung out at them as if to attack, appearing not to recognize them. Or if he did, he didn’t care. 

After a minute he’d calmed down after recognizing Melinda’s face, which took him off guard long enough for them to subdue him... meaning they pounced, knocked him to the ground, pinned him down and tied him up.

The rage somehow enhanced his strength. Massive adrenaline burst maybe? They were not sure. But it took all of them to overpower him. They proceeded to drag him back to the Howard Mansion and lock him into a secure cell in the basement.

Unfortunately, it was the same cell that William used when suffering from blood withdrawals. A smaller more condensed version of his study. This only enraged Riley even more, and they’d been forced to tie him to a chair to keep him from hurting himself or someone else.

They bound his hands in front of him, palms facing each other, to keep him from using magic to free himself or attack them. If he tried, the magic would have nowhere to go to except into the opposite palm, essentially soaking it up and canceling it out. The only effective way to keep a witch from using magic. Unless you were a very practiced witch who could perform spells without speaking them. This was something that took many years of intense study.

Melinda sighed and faced him, looking for any sign of the molasses eyed motorcycle man she’d fallen in love with, but she didn’t see it.

“I have no idea if my Riley is in there somewhere, but if you are, I’m going to bring you back. Just hang in there, okay.”

“Let me go,” he responded, wildness in his eyes.

“Sorry, that’s not going to happen.”

She wondered if she kept talking to him if perhaps she could change his mind and take his rage off William. But even if she could, he’d just turn his rage on someone else. They needed to cure him. Melinda grabbed another chair and slid it in front of him. She sat down, reached over, and placed her hands on his knees.

This act brought a smile to his face. A rather drunk sort of smile. Like he wasn’t completely present and accounted for. Part of him was missing from the smile. This was the part she needed to bring to the surface.

She scooted her chair closer so that her knees were touching his, toying with an idea, although she wasn’t sure it was safe to get this close to him. She didn’t think he would hurt her. Then again, in her prophetic dream he had been willing.

But that was after she’d admitted aloud that she loved William.

Which was after Riley had tortured him and threatened to burn him at the stake. 

She’d be sure to keep William’s name out of the conversation. This was a no-mistakes, keep-her-foot-out-of-her-mouth type situation.

“You’re so beautiful,” sighed Riley. His gaze was intense as if looking at a goddess, and yet held this drunk sort of blankness. Still, on any other day the intensity of his stare would have turned her legs all wobbly and sent butterflies fluttering through her nerves.

She decided it was now or never to try her idea. Her thoughts swam around the possibility of true love’s kiss. Yup. I’m resorting to fairytales.

But what other way was there to end anger and rage, than with love. Perhaps love could conquer all. And in this case, if she got love to overcome the rage, she could cure Riley of the Feyk’s spell. And no one would get hurt.

She leaned in, her lips nearly touching his. God, he smelled good. Molasses, with a hint of brown sugar. She breathed him in like a drug, forgetting she was trying to cure him; she wasn’t here to get all worked up. Her eyes lifted upward and she caught his adoring gaze. He closed the gap between their heads and stole her lips.

Shoot, I was supposed to kiss him. Not the other way around. Still, she guessed it didn’t matter. Love and affection was love and affection. Maybe it was better that he started it and took that first step.

His lips were gentle but telling. Each touch claimed so much more than just adoration. Devotion. Complete devotion, to her. This kiss, his lips, was all hers. He belonged to no one else.

“You have the sweetest lips, Melinda. Untie me,” he implored softly.

“I can’t.”

He groaned against her lips. “I want to be with you.”

“You are with me.”

“I need my hands.”

“Not really. You’re doing just fine without them.”

“But I could do so much better. I want to touch you. I need to touch you.”

She groaned. Tempted. So very tempted.

“Sorry. I can’t, Riley.” She sidetracked him by sliding out of her chair and onto his lap, straddling his legs. Her hands ran through his disheveled hair and she claimed his lips for her own. A deeper kiss. Tongues battling each other, tasting each other.

“You don’t mind being tied up now, do you?”

“If you’d told me this was what you had in mind...” the rest was garbled into their lips tugging at each other. His bound hands wiggled in front of her, the tips poking into her stomach. The bonds were secure but he was trying like heck to loosen them.

“Just free my hands. I just need my hands.” There was an edge of desperation in his voice.

Just his hands, yeah right. So he could use magic to free himself. She kept the kiss going, hoping he’d forget about wanting to get free. 

“Melinda,” he groaned against her lips. “I need to get out of here. I need to take you with me. Free my hands so I can feel your soft skin.”

“I can’t,” she whispered breathlessly. She pried her lips away and leaned her forehead against his, sucking in air to clear her head.

Maybe this is working a little too well...

Stupid hormones. You’re here to save him, not get all worked up.  

So far, her idea was working though. If she could just keep his mind completely on her; feeling love rather than rage, perhaps he’d snap out of it. He seemed a bit more like the old Riley again. Not as enraged.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly. 

“Naughty.”

Her breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Melinda bit her lip, she hadn’t planned on taking it this far. And it wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

Stay on task. Stay on task.

But good lord, he is just sitting here all tied up.

She took a thick swallow of nerves and closed her eyes. A soft whisper penetrated her ears. Riley’s velvet voice.

“It would be so easy for you. And I’m more than willing to let you take advantage of me.” His whisperings continued.

Melinda could only gasp and hold her breath. Her cheeks flushed and she had no reply.

He had never talked to her like this before. It made her feel many things.

Hot, for one. The cool cellar room had just gotten way hotter.

She was so, so, close to untying him and letting him do all the things he’d just whispered in her ear.

However, it also left a strange pang in her chest. There was something disturbing about the way he spoke, his tone held some unknown purpose. Something that cooled the heat that had filled the room. 

She straddled him, peering into his eyes. Riley’s molasses orbs darkened, taking on a sick wildness. It sent a shiver down her spine. Not a pleasurable one.

His lips curled into a vile grin.

“Your vampire has such a good sense of smell... I want him to know you were here, with me, doing all those things I just whispered in your ear.” He let out a lewd throaty laugh. “Leave him a gift. Me and you, all over his private little jail cell. I only wish I could see his face...”

Melinda didn’t know what came over her, but she reached up and slapped him across the face. Hard.

“Screw you.” She glared at him. There was no remorse staring back at her.

She broke her gaze closing her eyes.

It’s not really him. It’s not Riley.

No matter how many times she repeated this, it did not help. Her Riley would never say these things to her. Never treat her in such a cruel and demeaning manner.

Never, never, it’s not him. 

I can’t believe I hit him.

Her true love’s kiss experiment was an epic fail. It had been a terrible idea. One of her worst ideas, ever. She started to slide off him when a soft confused voice said her name.

“Melinda...”

She opened her eyes, unshed tears threatening to pour down her cheeks.

Riley blinked hard a few times, shaking his head. His gaze finding hers again.

“Riley?” The emptiness in his eyes was gone. No more blank spot where he should have been.

“I don’t know why I said those things. I would never hurt you like that. I’m so sorry, Melinda. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” He remembered everything he’d said and done. It sickened him to his core.

“Is it really you?” She didn’t dare believe it. The things he said... she had to let it go. Her Riley would never say those things. He’d never treat her like that.

Hard as she tried though his words left a dark spot deep in her gut.

“I’m so sorry, Melinda. I... I...”

She leaned her forehead back on his again. “Forget it. You were put under a spell by the Feyk. It makes you angry.”

“That wasn’t anger. It was spite. Pure spite. Melinda, look at me. Please.”

She did.

“You’re so beautiful. So perfect. I’ve only ever wanted to make you feel good about yourself. To see how confident you should be. You haven’t admitted it, but I can tell someone hurt you. Made you feel,” he choked a little. “Like I just did.” He stated in pure disgust in himself.

“I’m sorry I slapped you.”

“No. Don’t be. I deserved a lot worse.”

She leaned in and gently kissed him.

“You do have the sweetest lips, Melinda. I just need to be sure you know I don’t think of you like that. I could never, because I love,” he stopped, shocked by what he was saying. “Because I love you. It’s so fast, but I’m so sure.” He smiled weakly. “You still make me say the craziest things.”

Did she love him? Could she say it back? Should she, even if she wasn’t sure?

He didn’t seem to care. His lips devoured hers, a new devotion heavy in his attack.

Melinda was so many levels of confused. Severe tiredness was not helping. And she was all kinds of torn up about William since her fiery prophetic dream where he turned her into a vampire. And now Riley had just told her he loved her. Only minutes after spewing something so vile and repulsive. 

She reached in front of her to loosen his bonds.

“No. Stop.”

“But you’re back,” she argued softly.

“For good?” he shook his head. “I won’t lie, I hate being tied up, but until you have a cure you have to keep me here.”

“I guess. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I am right. If you could hear all the sick things ravaging through my mind... just don’t let me go. Keep me locked up, please?”

“Okay.” She stared, frightened at what thoughts he had kept to himself.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry I already did.” He threw silent apologies at her.

“It’s going to be okay, Riley.”

She kissed him again.

And again.

“Mmmm, I could do this all day. Feel free to take advantage of me all you want.”

Melinda grinned. She’d keep Riley safe, somehow. They would find a cure for him. She wouldn’t let him hurt anyone.

“Maybe you should untie me,” he mumbled.

“But we’re having so much fun with you all tied up,” she returned.

“I want to have more fun.”

“We’re taking it slow, remember?” She hoped if she just kept talking to him he’d stay with her.

“Screw taking it slow. Untie me.” The urgency heightened. 

She pulled back with a frightened breath.

“Riley?”

He said nothing, just stared.

I’m losing him again. “If I untie you, what will you do?”

“Free you, make you mine. Forever.”

“I am yours, Riley. And I am free.”

“No. You’re not. But I’ll make you free. And if you’re mine as you claim, you will untie me.” A frostiness cooled his tone.

Melinda swallowed hard, her legs tensing, but she didn’t back away. She wasn’t giving up yet. She could pull him out of the rage again.

She stared into his eyes, watching the last little bit of her Riley dissolve into darkness. That blank, empty spot turning flat.

“You won’t untie me because of him,” Riley charged grimly.

“No. I’m yours,” she swore. “All yours.”

His muscles flexed under the ropes. “Let me go so I can make you mine. The vampire doesn’t deserve you.”

“Riley, please,” she implored. “Why can’t you see I am yours? There’s no competition.” A dread pooled in her belly. She wasn’t going to bring him out of this as easily as before.

“I told you I loved you...”

Melinda heard his silent finish. And you didn’t say it back.

“Tell me you don’t have feelings for the vampire.” 

Her heart sank.

Even if she could say I love you and mean it with all her heart, it would be of no use. He’d never believe her.

She jumped, startled when the cell door opened.

“Oh, um, should I come back?” it was Michael, thrown off by the sight of his sister straddling their enraged prisoner.

Melinda saw a scowl etch across her brother’s face sensing the emotions hanging in the room. She peeled herself off Riley.

“You didn’t say it,” he barked at her. “Because I’m right. Why can’t you just admit you love the vampire?” He squirmed and flexed trying to loosen his bonds. “Let me go and I’ll end him. He can’t have you.” The rage kept building.

Melinda slid her chair out of reach and checked that his bonds were still secure. She ignored the inquisitive look on her brother’s face.

“By not denying it, you’re just admitting that you love him. You can’t love us both, Melinda. Untie me. Let me make the choice easy for you.”

She couldn’t look at him, her Riley wasn’t home any longer. She followed Michael out of the cell and closed the door, wishing she could excuse herself from the conversation about to take place. 

“You can’t leave me in here!” Riley shouted after them. “You think tying me up will stop me? Your vampire is history. I will turn him to ash.”

The tone in which he spoke gave Melinda an icy shudder. He’d been right in telling her not to release his bonds. She was glad William wasn’t around to hear Riley’s words himself. Although, she was getting worried about his whereabouts, Charlie’s as well, as neither could be reached all the previous night.

Michael cleared his throat, wearing a smug grin. “So what were you trying to do in there? Suck the spell out of his mouth?”

“No,” she retorted. “It was a,” she stopped, feeling stupid for even thinking it now.

“What? You thought you could kiss him and make it better?” Michael jested.

“Maybe...”

He cast a questioning gaze.

“You know, like all the fairytales, true love’s kiss can break the spell.”

Michael glanced at the door. Riley’s rants continued.

“Obviously it didn’t work.”

“Obviously,” she acknowledged. “I just thought if I could get him to have pleasant thoughts, rather than all the rage, maybe I’d break the spell. It did work,” she told her brother. “Not for long. But the real Riley did make a brief appearance.”

“Well, it wasn’t a bad idea in the scheme of things, I guess,” he conceded. Although seeing his sister straddling a guy, and sensing that guy’s emotions about his sister, did not do anything to help make him like the kid. It was hard to see Melinda as a grown up sometimes. He just didn’t want her to get hurt. 

My kingdom for a way to stay out of my sibling’s relationships. Being an empath was not easy. And lately, with all the added stress his family was under, it was getting harder to manage.

Melinda left all the other parts of her and Riley’s conversations to herself. It didn’t matter if anyone knew the hurtful things he said to her. It would just hurt him more.

The barrage of hatred escaping Riley’s cell continued, and was hard to take in. 

“What’s he talking about, anyway?” asked Michael.

“What do you mean?” Melinda feigned innocence.

“All his rage is aimed at William. Why does he think you...”

She broke in, shutting down the conversation before it could begin. “It’s just the spell, Michael. It’s putting crazy notions in his head.”

She made her way up the stairs knowing her brother didn’t believe that answer as she was sure he was using his empathic ability on her and could sense she was lying. Still, he didn’t press the issue.

But giving up her secrets about William... she just could not do that to him, any more than she could to Riley. They deserved some privacy. And she’d gotten enough heat from her brothers about dating Riley, already. They would not stop her from doing it, but they didn’t hide that they didn’t care for it much either.

And she didn’t need even more trouble because they discovered she was in love with William. And if the prophetic dream she’d had about him earlier that night was true, William did love her.

Ugh. The dream.

Melinda tried to forget what she’d seen. Wanted to forget it. William, on that pyre. Tortured by Riley, used as target practice. Her family dead. Riley’s family dead. She did not want to believe that Riley could be capable of such things. Even under a rage spell cast on him by the Feyk. But listening to the things spewing out of his mouth... it made her want to vomit at the thought it could be possible.

He was locked up securely. They wouldn’t free him until they’d found a cure.

##

MELINDA REACHED THE kitchen to behold a sight she’d never dared imagine. Lizzy and Lucas Deane working trying to make a potion to cure Riley. More like Lizzy, ordering Lucas around.

Michael jumped in when he saw her searching precariously through cupboard after cupboard, in search of ingredients. It was a strange sight to see her brother assisting the Deanes.

Melinda had to hold back a grin when Michael admitted how impressed he was by Lizzy’s knowledge. She was confident that her potion would cure Riley, and he had not argued the point as potions were not his thing. They usually depended on Charlie to make the potions, and he was still missing in action.

While waiting, Melinda picked up the Mack phone line. It auto-dialed the Demon Isle sheriff and she picked up a moment later.

“Hiya, Mack. Just wanted to update you. We located and secured Riley.”

“Oh, well that’s good news. Any sign of Charlie or William?” she asked in return.

“No. I was hoping you’d seen them by now.”

“Sorry. No sign. You’ll be the first to know if I do. And speaking of things to know, that D.E.S.I. Reporter just went live on the air again. More sightings of the strange looking men.”

Men that they had identified as Firebrand Feyks; hired guns that wreaked havoc for the right price.

“That’s just perfect,” grumbled Melinda. She hoped they were not going to do to others what they’d done to Riley. They’d have a war zone on their hands in no time.

“You take it easy now,” said the sheriff with a disheartened laugh.

“Easy... I do not know the meaning of that word.” 

“You and me both, Melinda. Bye now.” Mack disconnected.

Melinda was about to offer her help in the kitchen, when Lizzy shouted at Lucas to stir the pot counterclockwise, not clockwise, as if he should know this. He didn’t bother arguing, just switched directions.

“Having fun?” cracked Melinda to her brother, who was still overseeing the activity in the kitchen.

“More than you can imagine,” he retorted, handing her some jars to put away. “Oh, and find me some snapdragon, would you?”

“On it.” She returned with it a minute later.

“I’ll take that,” twittered Lizzy sharply. She took the snapdragon and counted out four, crushing them in her hands before adding them to the pot.

Steam lifted, leaving behind a low hiss rising out of the pot in its place. Lizzy motioned for Lucas to stop stirring. Everyone waited while she examined it closely.

She let out a satisfied huff. “Sometimes I amaze even myself. Haven’t made a potion in more years than I care to count, and boom! Comes back to me like it was yesterday.”

“So you think it’ll work?” asked Melinda, daring to let hope rise.

“Well, if you or I drank this potion right now, we’d be flying high. It’s the ultimate happy pill. We’d make love to our worst enemy after drinking this. So if it doesn’t get him off the rage train...” she shrugged and shook her head.

Michael cast a side-glance at his sister. Maybe her whole true love’s kiss thing wasn’t such a stretch after all. 

“Let’s not keep the suspense,” he suggested, handing Lizzy a vial and dropper.

She filled the vial and they headed down to the basement. Upon entry into the cell, Riley started shouting and squirming in his chair, trying even harder to break free of his bonds. Almost as if the spell he was under had knowledge an attack was coming.

“We’re going to have to force him to drink it,” said Lizzy to Lucas.

He nodded and stepped over to his brother. “Sorry, Riley. But we have to do this.” He took hold of his brother’s head and tilted it back, forcing his mouth open. Lizzy took the filled dropper out of the vial and emptied the contents into Riley’s mouth. Lucas held him open until certain he’d swallowed it.

They waited.

And waited.

Melinda held her breath, her arms folded.

Michael barely able to control the anticipation emoting from everyone in the room; his empathy in overdrive.

Lizzy and Lucas gazing nervously at each other and then Riley.

He lifted his head.

The dark intensity in his eyes gave them their answer. 

“You can’t keep me here,” he started up again. “I will get free and when I do,” he didn’t finish. Lizzy took a bandana she’d had around her head and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t that suck in a major way? Guess I’ve lost my touch after all.”

Lucas patted her on the shoulder and tossed her a look that said you tried.

Melinda wanted to cry, but sucked in on her cheeks to stop herself. This failure brought them a step closer to her nightmarish vision coming true. If they couldn’t figure out a way to fix Riley, he would kill them all. He’d torture William. He’d even try to burn her alive. And if her prophetic dream came true, in the very near future she’d be a vampire.

When she’d spoken to Michael about the vision, she’d only told him that everyone died. That the rage spell had turned Riley into a killing machine. She’d shared the same information with Lizzy and Lucas before they’d gone hunting for Riley. Melinda left out the parts having to do with her and William. Riley’s torture of him. What good would it do for them to know?

She definitely didn’t want to tell William. They’d finally gotten past most of the weirdness between them. No need to upset him or open wounds just starting to heal. That, and she couldn’t even imagine the awkwardness level of the conversation.

Melinda pushed the vision deep into her mind. As deep as possible. It would drive her mad if she let it float around the surface and linger. If they could fix Riley, all would end well.

Lucas let out a frustrated groan. “So what do we try next?” 

“I’m out of ideas,” said Lizzy. “I really thought that potion would work. Whatever the Feyk did to him, it’s very potent.”

“Let’s keep trying to reach Charlie and William,” suggested Michael. “William usually knows something helpful, or at least which book to read. And Charlie’s better at coming up with potions than I am.”

“Ugh! I’m feeling so inept right now,” admitted Melinda as they filed out of the cell, locked it and headed back up to the kitchen to the muffled sounds of Riley shouting through the bandana.

“You’re not alone there,” sympathized Lucas. “I’ve never made a potion in my life before today.”

“We’re going to have to do something about that,” admonished Lizzy. “Whether you want to accept it or not, you’re a witch and you’re glaringly unprepared.”

Lucas was about to argue but she shushed him. 

It sounded reminiscent to William’s speeches of late. And a fact becoming all too clear was true. They were not prepared to do their job. All they could come up with was, ask William, and let’s wait for Charlie.

Michael had been fighting to live a normal life and leave the Isle. He’d only weeks before decided to stay. Of course, that was after he’d discovered his father, Jack, might still be alive. He was quick to react in the heat of the moment, but when it came to serious decisions, he preferred not to make them. Did not like making them. He’d always defer to Charlie or William. 

Melinda had been so preoccupied with being a prisoner in her own home, she’d come to rely on William and her brothers, and sometimes even Mack, to take care of things for her. Mainly to keep her death visions from coming true.

They found themselves back in the kitchen; moodily cleaning up the mess they’d created making the useless potion for Riley.

The back door swung open.

They stopped and stared as Charlie came plodding inside.

Lizzy’s eyes popped and her mouth gaped. Her eyes followed him from toes to head, her gaze lingering for a moment when they reached his thick thighs. “There’s just something about Demon Isle boys,” she mumbled delightfully.

Although practically naked, Charlie was also disheveled; it looked as though his face hadn’t been shaved in days, which wasn’t abnormal, but given that his hair was also mussed up with ground debris and caked on sand was flaking off his legs, it looked as though he’d been crawling around the ground for hours. 

Melinda wanted to ask him where he’d been, but her dream was far more pressing an issue. “Whatever your deal is, Charlie, it’s going to have to wait. I had a dream. We’ve got a major problem, and we need your help. William, too. Do you know where he is?”

Charlie didn’t respond. He hadn’t even really heard her. “We need to talk,” he mumbled somewhat incoherently.

“Yeah, that’s what I just said,” Melinda stated. 

“We’ve got Riley Deane tied up in the basement,” started Michael, but Charlie interrupted.

“Eva Jordan is the shapeshifter.” His voice was flat. Almost deflated.

The room went quiet. No one replied. They were not sure they’d heard him correctly.

“Eva Jordan is the shapeshifter,” Charlie repeated, his tone still lifeless. “Eva’s the alpha werewolf that bit me. She’s the one that killed the Guardian, Nina. And... she is pregnant with my child.”

“Dude,” was all Michael could utter. Melinda stood in silent astonishment. Lizzy and Lucas didn’t quite comprehend everything they were talking about, and were about to leave and give them some space when a rush of air flew into the room, a blink of an eye later forming into William.

“Actually, Charlie,” his voice rang out, “Eva is not. Pregnant, that is. In the matter of being the alpha, the shifter, and a murderer, this is all true.”

“What do you mean, William?” asked Charlie, still dazed.

“I was out last night in search of the shifter. I could not rest while your father’s diary was still missing. During my quest, I happened across your scent. Realizing what was happening,” he directed at Charlie in a knowing tone, “I followed you, picking up a second scent. Which I then followed seeing as you were no longer present. It led me to Eva Jordan. I overheard a most illuminating conversation between Eva and her father, Anthony. The short version- she is not pregnant. It was a trick. A gift from the Feyk to keep you from killing her. Anthony Jordan is the one who hired the Firebrand’s to come to the Isle.” 

“Are you positive she’s not, William?” asked Charlie.

“I am certain.”

A mixture of emotions fled out of Charlie. Solace. Bitterness. Anger. Joy.

A mark of sadness. Overwhelmed more and more by murderous intent.

Even so, Charlie allowed relief to surface above all others. Eva was not pregnant with his child. He would not need to choose duty versus his family. He would however, make sure Eva never caused them trouble again.

Like William had said, she was a murderer. The werewolf that bit him and changed his life, forever. The wolf that almost became his alpha, stealing him away from his family. She had killed Nina. He would make it right. Eva would pay for her crimes against his family. Against the Isle.

Melinda scrunched her nose in confusion. “Sorry, but I am wicked confused over here, Charlie.”

“Yeah, same here,” added Michael, setting aside the cascade of emotions spewing from his brother. “So you’ve been dating Eva?”

“Um, well, not exactly.” Charlie did not want to explain.

“Should we leave?” asked Lucas. “Or go to the basement and keep Riley company?”

“Eh, just stay.” Surprisingly, it was Michael that said it. “I have a feeling the crap pile is about to get even larger.”

Charlie stalled, pinching his eyes together. He had a hundred thoughts screaming through his brain, but no time to process any of them. And he’d finally just heard what they were saying.

“Guys, why is Riley locked in the basement?”

“Yeah, um, we’ll get back to that in a minute,” said Melinda. “What the heck is going on Charlie?”

Her brother’s face turned red. His gaze lowered, trying to hide the color in his cheeks.

“Are you blushing?” badgered Michael.

Charlie let out a relenting groan. In one long breath, he explained.

“Apparently, I’ve been unconsciously sneaking out of the house at night because my wolf, and Eva’s wolf, have some kind of freaky love connection and we’ve been roaming around the Isle... I’m not going into more detail. Neither of us had any memory of it until this morning. Off and on for the last few weeks I’ve been waking up naked in the woods, on beaches, with no idea how I got there, or what I’ve been doing. I didn’t tell you guys because it was...”

Melinda let out a muffled snort. There wasn’t anything funny about it, and yet she could not stop laughing. “I’m sorry, Charlie. If you could just see your face right now.” She turned away to get a handle on it.

Charlie lowered his head, mortified.

He looked up to see the rest trying to stifle laughter as well. Even William looked bemused by his humiliating revelation. Lucas and Lizzy still didn’t quite get all that was going on, but found it humorous nonetheless. 

“So the Guardian ring doesn’t stop unconscious werewolf hookups?” jabbed Michael. “Certainly didn’t help you relax any,” he added under his breath. 

Charlie had nothing more to say on the subject, but cast a meaningful look of, it’s time for a new one.

William cleared his throat. “In all seriousness,” said William, regaining their attention. “There is much to discuss and explain.” They listened as he relayed all he’d overhead the Jordan’s discussing. And revealed why they’d come to the Isle in the first place.

“I fear this is entirely my fault, as it was my judgment to kill Eva’s mother,” expressed William. “Although in my defense, she used your mother, Catherine’s, form, as a disguise in her plot. She attempted to trick your father into revealing all he knew about the power source.”

“Daring,” said Michael. “Looks like Eva took a play from her mother’s handbook.”

“Yes, it was most disturbing to me that she disguised herself as Melinda to gain entrance into the mansion. I’m disappointed that it did not trigger a connection at that time.” He looked at them, apologetically.

“Seems like we’re living in a world of hindsight lately,” said Charlie. “But what choice did you have?” he asked William. “If her mother was causing trouble on the Isle, it’s our job to put a stop to it. Sometimes that means taking a life.”

Lucas shuddered. What kind of world had he gotten him and Riley mixed up in? 

“We certainly don’t do it because we want to,” declared Michael.

“It’s an unfortunate byproduct of the job.” They all turned to Lizzy as she’d said it. “You all seem to forget I had a previous life. We made tough choices too, for the greater good. That never changes, no matter how much time passes, and it’s not always easy or clear, but it has to be done.” She aimed her final words at William, in support of his verdict. 

“And while I agree,” he began, “it’s a good reminder that our actions can have long term consequences. To be honest, I had no idea Eva’s mother was a werewolf, a fact that could have proven fatal on my part. I also had no idea her death left behind a young daughter or husband. If I had known...”

“It still wouldn’t have changed anything,” said Melinda kindly.

“No. I suppose it would not.”

The air in the kitchen got thicker. Tensions rising.

William continued. “They believed it was your father, Jack, that killed her, and that is why Eva attacked him ten years ago. But you got in the way, Charlie.”

He reached up and touched the scar where Eva had bitten him. She had meant to attack his father after all, but he’d gotten in the way to try to stop her.

Michael chastised himself for respecting Anthony Jordan’s published works, or that they’d used his books from time to time while doing their jobs. He feared he’d given Mr. Jordan too much information in previous conversations. “I guess we know how Eva’s father collected most of the data for his books,” he uttered in disgust.

“Eva,” confirmed Charlie, nodding. She was his in to the supernatural world. “What are they planning? Are they collecting information to seek revenge? And why put everything in a book and publish it if that’s the intent? Wouldn’t they want to be quieter about their intentions? Not draw attention to themselves?”

William let out a tight sigh. “I am afraid we may never know the answers to those questions.”

“What did you do?” asked Michael, scrutinizing the vampire’s hidden meaning.

His confession was hesitant.

“I may have... broken Mr. Jordan’s neck.”

“Someone need some anger management lessons much?” scolded Lizzy.

“I did lose my temper, a little,” William conceded. “But I will not allow anyone to step foot onto this Isle and threaten the safety of those in my charge.”

“No need to defend yourself, William,” said Charlie. “But Eva is going to be furious.” 

“She is furious. And I had her in my clutches.” William spoke in berating anger. “She’s now in the custody of the Feyk.”

Charlie blew out a breath. “There’s no telling how she’ll react. What she’ll do. And she’s a loose cannon now that we know who, and what she is.”

“With the Feyk at her disposal, she’s bound to start a war,” warned Michael. 

His statement hung in the air like a balloon about to pop.

William glanced around the room. They were not prepared for a war. He’d only too recently, and possibly not soon enough, realized this fact.

“We at least have some time,” he explained. “Eva is currently suffering from a bout of blood poisoning. I had to immobilize her in order to question her. She’ll need at least twenty-four hours to heal.”

“That’s something I guess,” said Michael.

William nodded, but rather despondently. “In better news,” he went on, “I did retrieve the missing diary. In less than better news, it was clear she had read it cover to cover.”

“What’s done is done,” said Charlie, using his mother’s words, decisively. “At least you got the diary back. Regardless of anything else, this Feyk situation must be dealt with, swiftly. The power source cannot fall into their hands, and we must protect the people on the Isle.” 

Everyone agreed to this. 

“I think it starts with a call to Mack,” said Michael, offering to do so. “She’ll need to get the cleaners to the Jordan place, and I’ll catch her up on everything else.”

“And we can’t forget our other problem,” prompted Melinda, eying Michael, Lizzy and Lucas.

“Um, yeah, don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you guys doing here?” asked Charlie. 

A strange look flitted across William’s face. His head turned towards the basement, his vampire hearing, honing in on a muffled voice below.

“Why is Riley Deane locked up in my cell?”

Everyone looked at Melinda to explain.

“I haven’t had enough coffee for this,” she whined, laying her head on the counter.

“I’ll brew, you talk,” ordered Charlie.

“You might want to put some clothes on first,” suggested Michael.

Lizzy snickered, disapproving of that suggestion.

Charlie looked down at himself having completely forgotten he’d been standing there in his boxers. “Clothes first, then coffee and talk.”

Michael, already knowing the story, went ahead and left the room to call Mack. The sheriff was shocked and disappointed to hear that it was Anthony and Eva Jordan behind the problems they’d been having all summer. 

“I liked that Eva. She seemed like a sweet enough girl, when her father was missing at least.”

“I guess even evil daughters love their fathers,” he retorted dryly. “None of us picked up on it. That’s not entirely true,” he said, disagreeing with his own statement. “When Charlie first met Eva he knew something was off. I blamed it on his wolfy paranoia. Turns out he wasn’t. There were other signs, ones that make perfect sense now, of course.”

“Not your fault, Michael,” maintained the sheriff.

“Doesn’t matter now,” he sighed. “I would consider both Eva and the Feyks armed and dangerous at this point though. We don’t know what they’ll do, but this could get really ugly.”

“I’m assuming you guys are in planning mode?”

“Full on. We’ll contact you once we figure out anything of importance.” 

“All-righty-then,” Mack returned. “You guys stay safe. I’ll call ya if anything exciting happens.”

There had been other signs, recalled Michael as he hung up with Mack. Signs that Eva could not be trusted. He couldn’t get a stable read on her. And there was that one time when he did, after catching her and Charlie going at it in the storage room, and she’d somehow just shut it down, like she’d thrown up a wall of some kind.

And her father, Anthony... Michael had only ever read a single, even emotion from him. He should have questioned why. Had they come up with some manner in which to block their emotions? Knowing he’d have caught on. He might never find out.

Michael listened in on the conversation in the kitchen. William was suggesting they capture a Feyk and force them to undo the spell on Riley. Lizzy was agreeing, chastising herself loudly for not thinking to go that route after her potion failed.

Instead of rejoining the group in the kitchen, Michael dialed his girlfriend, Emily Morgan, currently at work at the local bookstore, Harboring the Book. 

She answered in her usual happy greeting. Upon hearing Michael’s groan as a reply, she said, “You sound terrible. No luck fixing Riley yet?”

“You got any customers hanging around? My answer might take a while.”

“Just one, she doesn’t look like she’s in any hurry.”

After listening to Michael explain what was going on, Emily felt a flutter of unease; she was glad Michael wasn’t physically with her, or his empathy would’ve picked up on it. And he’d worry about that, too.

“Are you doing okay?” she asked him. “It must be wearing on you, everyone’s emotions in high gear.”

“It is, a little. Kind of a lot. But I’ll survive.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need any research done? Should I come to the mansion and help?” 

Michael thought hard for a minute, unsure whether Emily would be safer by his side or away from him. In the last few weeks, her being with him had nearly gotten her killed more than once.

“Michael?”

“Sorry, Em. Just not sure how to answer that question. I’d feel better having you with me, but at the same time...”

“You think it might be too dangerous.”

“Yes. But not having you with me could be dangerous, too. I don’t know anymore. They’re in the kitchen discussing how to capture a Feyk. I don’t think I want you in the middle of that. And we have Riley locked up in the basement, so if you were here I think you’d be safe, but I’ve thought that before and look what’s happened.”

“How are you going to catch a Feyk?” she asked, letting the subject of her safety dangle. “It’s like they’re everywhere, all at once now. Sightings have been pouring into that reporter, Courtney Jessup. I wonder why... they must know Mr. Jordan is dead by now. If he hired them,” she stopped, realizing she was not making the situation any less stressful.

“All the things we’re afraid to find out the answers to,” Michael told her. “And right now we’re focused on the whole fix-Melinda’s-nightmare-from-coming-true thing...”

“So Riley doesn’t kill us all,” she replied matter of factly.

“Ugh. What have our lives become, that we can talk about it like it’s just another thing to deal with. Who’s going to try to kill us today?” His tone reeked of sarcasm.

“I think it’s more about having perspective. You’ll stop it from happening, Michael. You always find a way. I have complete confidence in my magic man.”

Her encouragement lightened him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you? Or what I’d do without you, Em.”

“I’m sending you kisses,” she whispered into the phone, sweetly.

“They taste divine,” he replied.

He wanted to take her somewhere and lock her away until this whole ordeal was over. He heard her making a clucking noise and grinned.

“What idea is brewing around that amazingly gorgeous brain of yours?” he asked her.

“I was thinking that the reporter could help you catch a Feyk. She has tips coming in minutes, sometimes seconds, after a sighting. According to her blog, at least. It’s like people are hoping to see one and have her number on speed dial or something. Still, it might be a way to track the Feyk, and catch one.”

“Brilliant as always,” said Michael. “I hadn’t thought about involving the reporter, but you’re right. She knows about the sighting locations faster than anyone else.”

Emily told him to hold for a minute while she checked her customer out, and was back a minute later.

“I think you should close the shop,” he told her. “Eva knows where you work. Would you mind just going home for today?”

Emily kept her immediate reply to herself. They lived on an island. Locals pretty much knew where everyone worked, or lived. This wouldn’t make him feel any more confident, so she didn’t remind him.

“I think I could manage a day off. Dad won’t mind the company. Actually, he wasn’t feeling so well when I left this morning, so maybe I’ll grab a few groceries, cook his favorite dish and we’ll watch a movie or something.”

“That sounds perfect,” said Michael, wishing he could join them. “I’m sorry he’s not well though. Tell him I hope he gets better.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Em. I know it’s a lot to ask. I’d just feel better knowing you’re home, and not alone in the bookstore.”

“Oh, it’s so much to ask,” she said overdramatically. “Having to take a day off and spend it with my dad.”

He chuckled. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will. I missed you last night,” she sighed. “I didn’t want to leave my dad home alone though.”

“I missed you too. Getting used to waking up with you sleeping next to me. But after the day we had, I just didn’t feel right leaving the mansion.”

“Turns out that was a smart move.”

“Smart, but I still missed you something wicked, Em.”

“Tonight then?”

“I hope so. If we can get Riley fixed, I’ll be waiting under your bed sheets.” His voice warned her to be ready.

She giggled. “Be careful, Michael. Love you.”

“I love you too, Em. Bye.”

Michael let out a thick breath and rejoined the ongoing conversation in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said upon entering. “Emily had an idea I wanted to pass by you guys.”

“Go on,” urged William, eager to hear it. 

“Emily was thinking that the reporter chick, Courtney Jessup, might be our best chance to find and capture a Feyk.”

Charlie rubbed the stubble on his chin. He’d cleaned up, dressed and returned. “That’s a smart idea.” 

“Yes,” agreed William.

“Best idea we’ve had yet,” Lizzy chimed in. 

“Now that’s settled,” said William, “I must express my concern over leaving White Pines unattended. While we are busy seeking the Feyks and Eva, they might well use that opportunity to attempt to reach the power source. And frankly, I don’t think any of us should work alone right now. I fear it would prove dangerous.”

“It spreads us thin,” worried Charlie. “But I agree.” 

“You can count us in,” said Lizzy, on her and Lucas’ behalf. 

“Thank you,” said Charlie, honestly grateful for their presence. “I’m sure none of this is what either of you expected to be doing?”

“Being this involved with magic, definitely not,” replied Lucas, with an inflection of doubt. 

It was the first time Melinda witnessed doubt come out of Lucas as typically he was quite sure of himself.

“Why don’t you stay here with me,” she suggested, coming to his rescue. “I’m volunteering to stay with Riley,” she aimed at her brothers and William. She turned to Lucas. “Should be a minimal magic type situation. Probably extremely boring.”

“I think I can handle that,” he replied. “As long as that’s okay with everyone else?”

“It’s fine with me,” said Charlie. He was glad that Melinda would be home and not in the middle of possible Feyk, or Eva, confrontations. And Lucas could keep her company and watch Riley at the same time.

“I can’t handle boring, but I’m pretty good in a fight,” claimed Lizzy.

“I would not have guessed that about you,” quipped Charlie sarcastically.

“I am what I am. Love me or leave me,” she defended with a confident shrug.

Truer words have never been spoken, thought Charlie.

The thought of chasing around leads and dealing with people’s emotions all day did not interest Michael in the least. “I’ll take first watch at White Pines,” he offered. The quiet of the woods would be a nice change.

Charlie nodded. “Lizzy, you want to join Michael?”

“Sounds like a good time in the making,” she jested. 

“Well that does it then,” said Charlie. “Lucas and Melinda will stay here with Riley. Michael and Lizzy will take watch at White Pines and that leaves William and me to visit our friendly neighborhood supernatural investigative reporter.”

“Very well,” said William. “Be careful everyone, and...” he stopped, his mouth closing. His head tilted towards the front of the mansion. He spun around, a deep stare penetrating the door as if he was trying to see through it. 

There was a knock. Followed by another.

“Anyone expecting anyone?” asked a leery toned Melinda.

##

“I’LL ANSWER IT,” SPOKE William, disappearing.

Everyone nervously followed. Even William looked apprehensive as he grabbed the door handle. Upon opening it, a man in overalls holding a clipboard turned around.

“You William Wakefield? This here the Howard residence?”

“Yes, on both counts,” answered William.

“Right place boys, bring’em in.” This was followed by beeping and a large truck backing into their driveway.

William realized what it was. “Gargoyles,” he spoke under his breath. Not a moment too soon he thought. He only wished they were out of their crates and at their posts already. He’d feel much better about security at the mansion. At least come tonight.

“Ferry arrived a bit ago,” said the deliveryman. “We gotta hurry and get these crates unloaded so we can catch the return ride. Sign here.” He handed the clipboard over to William, who signed and handed it back.

Each crate had the word fragile written on all sides, as well as a, this side up, indicator. The handlers took great care getting the packages off the truck.

Everyone had joined William on the front porch, watching.

“Where you want’em?” the deliveryman asked.

“Just remove the crates from the truck and leave them,” instructed William. “We’ll take care of the rest, thank you.”

The deliveryman nodded and told his companions to leave the crates and they skedaddled off, in a hurry to catch the return ferry off the Isle and back to the mainland.

“I wish we had time to uncrate them now,” said Charlie, curious to what they’d look like.

“But we do not,” agreed William. “I’m just glad they arrived early. I wasn’t expecting them for days yet. Although I did emphasize that time was of the essence. Melinda...” he turned to her. “Since you’re staying here, perhaps you wouldn’t mind contacting Mack and see if perhaps the cleaners could be of some assistance, once they’re done at the Jordan home.”

“What do I do with the gargoyles once they’re out of the crates?” she asked him.

“It’s still daytime, so they just need to be perched.”

“But once they wake up, do I need to feed them? Give them water? Baths? Do they bite? They’re not going to sneak up and scare the living begeesus out of me, are they?”

William chuckled at her adorable naivety. “They’re not pets,” he reminded. “They manage most things themselves. They’re quite independent creatures. And I’m sure we’ll all be home long before dusk.”

“So they hunt their own food, then?” 

“No. More like forage. Gargoyles are vegetarians.”

“Really?”

William tossed her a bemused smile.

“That’s not going to be easy come winter,” she said, afraid they’d starve. 

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” promised William. “For today, let’s just get them settled. It’s best that when they first wake, they are perched in the location we want them to sleep in during the day. It gives them a sense of propriety. Gargoyles are bred to sense evil, but they’re not fighters. They’re very docile creatures by nature, though aloof. They keep to themselves mostly. I would bet that after a few weeks, we’ll start to forget they are even on guard.”

Everyone wanted to stick around and see them, but duties awaited.

William explained to Melinda where the gargoyles should be perched. When finished, he asked, “Any more questions?”

“No. I think I got it.” He started to walk away. “Um, William,” she stopped him. She thought perhaps since they were alone, she should broach the subject of Riley and his William aimed rage, and her prophetic dream. Nerves got the better of her though, and she chickened out. “Be careful,” she said instead.

He caught an air of something amiss when her heart fluttered in a nervous manner. It wasn’t the flutter he’d come to recognize as his, just her anxious one. Another he recognized easily. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but something nagged at him that she had something she wanted to say, but wasn’t.

He toyed with peeking into her thoughts rather than force her into what he guessed was an uncomfortable topic, but decided against it. It didn’t feel right to, just because he could.

“Are you okay, Melinda?” he inquired instead.

She didn’t answer. How did she launch into, Riley knows I have feelings for you, and even though it doesn’t matter because you vampire, me human... his rage is aimed completely at you, and in my dream you tell me you love me and cannot let me die, then turn me into a vampire to save me. Oh and this is while we’re being burned at the stake... the words dissolved into air as they reached her lips.

“Is this about your dream?” he asked perceptively. “Don’t worry. We won’t allow Riley to turn into a monster. You’ll have your boyfriend back, and whole, in no time. I promise, I won’t let anyone get hurt, Melinda.” 

She hadn’t expected him to be so forward and easy going about Riley being her boyfriend.

William turned and left before she could regroup and say what was actually on her mind. She followed, blowing frustrated air bubbles through her lips. A minute later, she watched Michael and Lizzy drive away in the Deane’s truck, heading towards White Pines. A minute after that, William and Charlie took off in the jeep to find the reporter.

Melinda was alone with Lucas, and her psychotic, locked in the basement boyfriend, along with four crated gargoyles waiting to be perched around the mansion grounds.

Lucas met her at the front door. “I was just about to go check on Riley.”

She nodded as he headed back inside to the basement. While he was away, she dialed Mack, passing along their request for the cleaners’ help in placing the gargoyles. The sheriff returned her call a few minutes later, letting her know the cleaners were ready and eager to help. “That Josh, what a chip off the old block he’s turnin’ out to be. Hard working, good lookin’ lad he is.” There was a strongly hinted poignancy in her tone.

“Mack, if you’re trying to suggest something, I’ve got enough guy troubles to last a lifetime already.”

The sheriff laughed. “Right, of course. I’d wager you do, a smart young lady like yourself. Still. He’s mighty curious to see the gargoyles, can’t say I ain’t as well. But it’ll have to wait. So what else is up? I just caught Michael and Lizzy whizzing through town.”

Melinda filled her in on their current plans and told her she’d update her if anything changed.

“On my part,” the sheriff started, “I’ve got all hands on deck. Right now, under the guise of prepping for the holiday tomorrow.”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot tomorrow is the Fourth of July. And to think we were all planning on celebrating together.”

“You just might yet. Don’t give up, the day’s still young.”

“How do you stay so optimistic?” Melinda asked with a chuckle.

“I guess it’s just easier than the alternative.”

Melinda laughed. “Yeah, speaking from personal experience, I think you’re right.”

“Okay now. You guys stay safe. Keep me posted. I gotta run because story of my life, my other line is ringin’.”

“Okay, Mack. You stay safe, too.” She closed her phone and gazed out across the crates dotting the front yard. “Real, living gargoyles,” she mumbled. She headed back inside to check on Lucas, who was just coming up the cellar stairs into the kitchen. “How is he?”

Lucas shook his head. “Getting worse if you can believe it. I took the bandana out of his mouth, felt bad leaving it in, but he just started raving again. He somehow knew William had been here. Must have heard him talking I guess. Seems to have ignited a whole new level of madness.”

“I didn’t warn William that Riley’s rage is directed at him,” Melinda blurted out suddenly, her voice guilt ridden. Why couldn’t I just have done that when talking to William?

“I’m getting the impression you tried to tell him, but failed...”

“You Deane’s are sometimes far too perceptive for my liking.” 

“You’re the one that just...” she raised her hand to shush him. He closed his mouth obediently.

“Sorry, it’s just an uncomfortable conversation,” she explained. “I really like your brother, Lucas. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him. It’s just that William and I are... close. We work together. We live in the same house. We spend a lot of time together. And Riley’s clearly a little jealous about it.”

“Is he right to be?” Lucas asked protectively.

“No,” she insisted. “No. He has no reason to be. But William is an important part of my life, and I can’t just ignore that. I can’t pretend he doesn’t exist just because I’m with Riley. His name is going to come up in conversation.”

“He’s never been the jealous type before. I think he’ll get over it. As long as we can fix this whole Feyk spell.”

“I hope they capture one fast,” she said. “The faster the better.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t fix my brother,” said Lucas. “I dragged him, practically kicking and screaming to live here. He didn’t want to come.”

“Sounds like you didn’t have much choice though.”

“We didn’t. We’d exhausted all our options. Coming to The Demon Isle was not my first choice, either. But when I found out our family still owned the old manor, it was at least a roof over our heads until I got a better handle on things. We’ve just had a continual run of bad luck these last few years.”

“I know how that goes.”

“The real kicker,” continued Lucas. “With all Riley’s kicking and screaming not to come here, as we were waiting to board the ferry to cross from the mainland, he got one of his feelings.”

“That he needed to be here?” she confirmed.

“He said it was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before.”

Melinda thought about it. “Maybe your run of bad luck is over then. I mean, what if you had all that bad luck to force you to come here?”

“I can’t lie and say that thought hasn’t crossed my mind. Until this thing with my brother... it’s not exactly good luck.”

“No. I suppose not. But if he had one of his feeling thingy’s, then it has to mean something.”

“I hope it does. As long as that something is a good thing. Mainly, I think I was just nervous to be around magic. I don’t like what it does to people. I don’t mean you, or any one specific person, just in general. Look what it did to my family.”

“But they dealt in dark magic. And they didn’t always as I’m sure Lizzy would point out if she were standing here.”

“You’re right about that.”

“I can understand why you worry about it,” she spoke compassionately. “I pretty much worry as a full-time job.”

“That’s not a good way to earn a living.”

She shrugged. “You can’t blame yourself for your brother’s current predicament anyway. It’s all my fault. Not yours.”

“There’s that full-time job right now,” he remarked.

“It’s what I do best.”

“It’s not your fault, Melinda,” he argued.

“It is. You guys volunteered to help me out, and he got attacked under my watch. I wasn’t as prepared as I should have been,” she admitted. 

He opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out.

“Sorry,” he said after a moment. “I’m sure you were actually as prepared as you could have been. I was kind of being a pompous jerk that day.”

It was her time to rebut his comment, but she did not.

He cracked an inviting smile.

“We were in a new place where we’re not exactly welcomed,” he explained. “New circumstances, magic thrown into our lives. I sort of go on the defense a little when things change too fast.”

“But some of those things you were giving me a hard time about, you weren’t so off, Lucas. I think sometimes we get sucked into our very small world here on the Isle, and get stuck in it. Not stuck, bad choice of words. More like, it becomes a bit... routine. Comfortable. Even though it is entirely unpredictable. We have seen in the last few days that we’re not prepared. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I think my flip flop wearing days are over.”

He laughed.

“Of course if my brothers or William had any choice in the matter, they’d probably never let me leave the house without full body armor!”

Lucas grinned and cast a quick glance at the basement. “Speaking as an older sibling, it’s not such a bad idea. Still, even with all this going on and my brother in danger, I still can’t bring myself to just hop on the magic train. I feel pretty useless right now.” 

“Not useless. Not at all. You guys being here has actually been really great. Not just because of Riley,” she insisted. “I think even my brothers and William are coming around to the fact that having extra help now and again is a good thing.”

“Even if it’s from a Deane?” he added with a smirk.

She hit him in the shoulder playfully. “I think you’ve allowed that name to do as much damage to yourself, as we’ve allowed it to do to us.”

Lucas wore a look of contemplation. “The damage a name can do. I never looked at it from that angle before.”

“Take it from someone that could win awards for beating themselves up over things they have no control over... and perhaps it’s time for our families to be allies again. We were once. Maybe our generation is smart enough not to let history repeat itself.”

“Do you think we’re really capable of that? Putting history behind us and starting fresh?” asked Lucas.

“I’d like to think we are.” Just because she felt this way, didn’t mean her brothers or William did. Not yet anyway. It seemed like they were coming around.

Lucas cast her a wry smile. “Definitely starting to understand why my brother’s so crazy about you. For once, I think I can give my full approval.”

The way his eyes lingered on her, reddened her cheeks. She turned away, busying herself with brewing another pot of coffee, not that she needed more caffeine on top of the three cups she’d already had that morning. 

“So, Lucas, since you aren’t into the magic thing, what are you into? Did you go to school for anything in particular?”

“No college. Just high school. Our parents died the summer after I graduated. Car accident,” he explained.

She’d had no idea how they’d died, only that they had. “I’m sorry. That’s also something I have personal experience with. It sucks. Really sucks.”

“Well, on top of the sucking, Riley was just entering high school. He’d lost so much already, I didn’t want him to change schools and friends as well. So I skipped out on college. Went right to work. To be honest though I really had no idea what to major in. It didn’t feel like a big loss to me. A relief really. The pressure to choose what I wanted to do with my life... I found that difficult to handle.”

“So what did you do for work?”

“Anything I could get my hands on, that did not include sitting on my butt in a cubicle, or being stuck indoors all day.”

“Yeah, I don’t see you doing that.”

“I don’t mind hard work. I don’t mind getting a little dirty. I like to fix things. I like to make things. I can’t think of anything more soul-sucking than sitting my butt in a chair staring into a computer screen, or pretending I enjoy talking to obnoxious know-it-all customers for eight hours a day.”

“You have some good points there, Lucas. Makes being a witch look better and better.” 

“So how about you?” he asked, catching her off guard.

“Me, what?”

“Are you in school? Have you ever had a job? A day job I mean, outside of the whole being a witch thing.”

“No. No time for a day job. Being a witch pretty much takes up my free time and my not-so-free time.” She didn’t have the wherewithal to explain her self-imposed years of imprisonment.

“But let’s say suddenly tomorrow, you’re no longer a witch. What would you want to do with your life?”

Melinda watched coffee dripping into the pot, staring at each droplet falling and rippling in the carafe. “I’ve never really given it any thought,” she admitted after a minute. “Rather pathetic, huh?” 

“I wouldn’t say pathetic,” he replied kindly.

“I honestly have no idea. After my parents died, well, Mom died and Dad disappeared, I finished high school at home. William was my teacher. I never even thought about college or work. I didn’t even want to leave the house, never mind go to classes.”

Before she knew it, she was explaining her life to Lucas anyway, and found it wasn’t as wearing as she’d thought it would be just a moment ago.

“I’d just started having my prophetic dreams,” she explained. “And let’s just say I didn’t handle it so well. That’s actually putting it kind of lightly. I sort of wrote myself off. Became the island freak. Only left the mansion when I absolutely had to. It was only days before I met your brother that I had started attempting to get a life outside the house. But the job became all-consuming almost overnight. And being a Howard Witch, it pretty much comes first so having any sort of life is... kind of impossible.”

“You shouldn’t give up,” encouraged Lucas. “I know your life is fairly laid out for you, but if you find that something that make you happy, you should grab onto it. Life’s too short not to.”

“Yeah, maybe. If I ever have the time to find it.”

“I’m gonna go check on my brother again. You mind bringing me a mug of that when it’s ready?” he asked, nodding to the filling coffee pot.

“Yeah, will do.”

He left her alone. No one had ever asked Melinda what she wanted from life before, and she’d never given it any thought. Was there something wrong with her? That she’d never even had any desires for her future, other than for the way too hot vampire that lived in her house, and the molasses eyed motorcycle man currently tied up in her basement (that wanted to torture and kill said vampire).

“Thoughts for another day,” she muttered, while opening up a cupboard over the coffee pot. “Perfect.” She grabbed a box of toasted-coconut-covered chocolate donuts. “It’s a donut kind of day.”

She grabbed two coffee filled mugs, put the box under her arm and headed down to the basement, curious suddenly as to whether gargoyles liked donuts. 

##

WITH EVERY HOUR THAT passed, Eva Jordan was getting her strength back. She was up and walking around a bit now, however, painful spasms periodically caught her off guard as the vampire venom worked its way out of her veins. Even with the potion Sir Tinkham Sickereaux, otherwise called, Stricker, had provided, she’d still need more time to heal fully. But being back on her feet was a good start.

The Feyk were busy preparing to cast a summoning spell; one meant to summon the Soul Hunter. The key, Stricker explained, was that the Hunter would only answer the call if there was the promise of a new soul. They did not have one to offer in trade, however, they did have something else the Hunter wanted more. Its freedom. A way to get off the Isle.

Eva had explained to the Feyk about the lighthouses and the doorways hidden in each. How Lizzy Deane had used a spell to lock them shut; she even knew exactly what Lizzy had said to close them, being that William had written it in the diary.

“I bet he never expected that to backfire,” she delighted haughtily.

The Feyk were now working on a way to undo the late ghast’s magic so they could free the Hunter. They were hoping to strike a bargain, its freedom for the release of Jack Howard.

Unfortunately for Eva, she was the only soul the Hunter might be interested in collecting; therefore, she’d have to be the bait. Stricker insisted she’d be in no danger and would not be traded. Only used to entice.

Eva was sure to remind Stricker and the Feyk that she hadn’t yet told them where the power source was supposed to be located, just in case they got any ideas. She did not want her soul traded as part of some trick on their part... she was bait only.

Of course, the Hunter already knew the location of the source as well. It didn’t give her much to bargain with, should the Feyk decide to turn on her. So she also reminded Stricker that she was the only living person that had read the Howard’s diary.

“You know,” he scowled after her third reminder. “We made a bargain. I do not break bargains. And I’m well aware of how valuable your knowledge is.”

She didn’t like the way he said this. There were subtle hints of threat in his tone.

“Sir, sir,” a voice called out.

Stricker turned to see one of his cohorts running into the fort. “Yes.”

“We’ve figured it out. Broken the witches spell. We can open the door to release the Hunter.” Like Stricker, there was a hint of slither in his tone as he spoke.

The Feyk leader licked his lips as if he could taste their success.

It was time to call the Hunter.

He ordered a few of his Feyk to various parts of the Isle, to keep an eye out for the Howards and keep the locals focused on the sightings, and told those remaining behind to ready themselves. He motioned for Eva to join him. She did, though somewhat hesitantly.

“Don’t worry,” he buzzed. “Once we tell the Hunter we can free him, he will not care about collecting your soul.”

“I hope you’re aware that it won’t be as easy as just freeing Jack Howard? The witches will put up a fight. And I would not underestimate them.”

“I’ve already got the perfect time bomb waiting to explode,” he blathered triumphantly. “One that will solve more than one of our problems.”

Eva nodded and moved to the center of a circle. The Feyk began to chant around her. Their chant called to the Hunter, offering a soul in return for his presence. Eva gulped, her throat thick with tension as she waited breathlessly. If the Feyk tricked her and the Hunter collected her soul, she’d never avenge her father’s death. Never mind her mother’s death, the reason she’d come to the island to begin with.

The Soul Hunter arrived much faster than she expected.

Swirling streams of ink-colored veils encircled her body and once again she found her body weakened and unable to move; the Hunter ready to claim her soul. Terrifying sounds stabbed at her ears. Wailing. Shrieking. Sorrowful moans that filled every fiber of her being with an icy fear.

The Hunter never fully materialized, always moving, never stopping, never solid. And yet its presence consumed her and chilled her to the bone. Her heart squeezed in her chest, pounding heavily against her skin.

This had better go as Stricker planned.

The Feyk leader spoke to the Hunter in a language she’d never heard before and didn’t understand. It sounded like fast clicking and clucking, none of which made any sense.

Stricker clapped his hands together. “Magnificent!”

“We have a deal?” questioned Eva.

“All too easy really,” he said.

The pressure surrounding Eva lessened, the black streams dissolving. The Hunter disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“That was... fast,” she spoke breathlessly, her body and soul freed of the Hunter’s icy grasp.

“You almost sounded grateful when you said that,” Stricker noted.

“Have you ever had your soul on the verge of being sucked out of your body? Oh right, you don’t have one, do you?”

Stricker grinned in devilish approval. “I’d dare say you barely have one yourself my dear.”

Eva stumbled, her strength waning. Even just a moment under the Hunter’s spell, her energy had lessened. The vampire blood still stuck in her veins heightened the effect. She pushed away a Feyk attempting to assist her.

It turned away, slithering out, “Suit yourself.”

“Still so untrusting,” chastised Stricker. “And here I thought we were making progress.”

Eva glared at him. “Would you trust you?”

Stricker cast his eerie grin in reply and instead of answering, said, “As we expected, the Hunter wants off the Isle, and he’s willing to give up Jack Howard to do that.”

“So he is alive, inside that thing?”

“Yes.”

Eva shuddered at the thought of being held captive by that creature. At least it’s not me. “Can we trust that the Hunter will release Jack?” 

“The Hunter fulfills its bargains, as do we,” buzzed Stricker. “Do you think we’d have stayed in business this long, if we did not?” He was growing tired of her distrust and doubt.

“Fine,” she replied tersely. She wanted this business done. As soon as she knew the Feyk would do away with the vampire, she’d tell them where the power source was located and get off this pathetic excuse for an island.

She gasped when another Feyk popped in out of nowhere. Their constant popping in and out was making her jumpy.

“Stricker,” it called out, tossing a head bow in his leader’s direction.

“Speak.”

“The bookstore witch. Followed her. She went to work, and home.”

“Any report on the others?” asked Stricker.

“Not yet. We were forced to leave the Howard property.”

“Forced how?”

“Gargoyles, Sir. Not awake, yet, but they will be soon. Night approaches.”

“Interesting. Yes, they would give away our presence. This complicates things a bit.”

“You’ve been watching the Howards?” questioned Eva.

“Yes. Following their movements. Learning their plans. Gaining some leverage.”

“Leverage,” repeated Eva. She crossed her arms. “The Howards are good... when I say good, I mean that they cannot skip out on the chance to save someone in trouble. If you want leverage, there it is.”

“What can you tell me about the bookstore witch?” asked Stricker.

“I don’t know who you’re,” it dawned on her. “You mean Emily. She’s Michael Howard’s girlfriend. But she’s not a witch.”

The manner in which she spoke piqued Stricker’s interest.

“This is another one of those helpful things I read about in the diary,” said Eva. A dark desire welled up inside her. Perhaps she was being too hard on the Feyk. Perhaps with her father now gone, a new partnership was in order. Perhaps she could carry out his plans. Same ending, different path to get there. 

Stricker waited to hear her proposal.

Eva’s lips turned into a cruel grin. “I’m feeling like it’s time for a little payback. Shake things up a little. Show the Howard Witches that we mean business.”

“We?” gloated Stricker.

“Is that a problem now?”

“I like we,” he reveled. “Come now my dear, and tell me all your naughty plans.” 

##

MICHAEL DROVE THE DEANE’S truck into White Pines. Lucas allowed he and Lizzy to borrow it seeing as he was staying with Melinda at the mansion, and Lizzy had not learned how to drive yet. She hadn’t dared get behind the wheel yet, struggling to get used to riding in a fast moving metal machine.

He was pleasantly surprised at how easily they got along though. She was funny. Sort of bossy funny, in a cute and yet blunt sort of way. Listening to her talk about being human again was at least entertaining. And though her emotions flew out at him, like everyone’s did, it was a nice reprieve to only have just hers, and no one else’s, bombarding him.

He parked, and they got out, investigating the area before heading to the old tree in White Pines. All appeared quiet. Michael led them on a path into the woods. The trees were not thick, and thinned even more after a short distance. They stepped up onto a crest and peered down into the Howard’s old picnic spot. The possible entrance to the power source. The location of his mother’s bones.

The crest continued to their left until it hit a granite ridge that jabbed down into a creek bed. To their right was the old tree; the suspected entrance to Heart of the Isle, the mystical power source the Howard Witches had protected since the Isle’s inception.

They looked for signs of activity, but so far, saw or heard nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’ve never seen this tree before,” said Lizzy. “It’s rather remarkable, and yet not.”

“Assuming and yet not assuming at all,” agreed Michael. “Perfect place to hide a secret magical entrance.”

The tree was not tall. It could not have been seen from any great distance. But was old, and thick. It grew out of an embankment, its roots a mass of tangles that sprawled around the base, almost like a protective barrier.

“You’ve never been in White Pines, even before you were a ghast?” asked Michael.

“No. This wasn’t a park then,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m ridiculously old, remember?”

“Oh, right. Dumb of me. Sorry.”

“So where exactly is the doorway? I see nothing that resembles any sort of entrance.”

He shrugged. “All I know is it’s here somewhere and somehow, my mom and dad found a way in. Obviously it doesn’t look like an actual door, but it is here.”

“It looks like a knotted mess. On purpose, you think?”

“Maybe. Definitely keeps people from getting too close.” Michael shot off a text to let Charlie, William, and Melinda know they’d made it, and all was quiet. 

Afternoon sun beamed down. It was a hot day, humid too. July was the hottest month on the Isle. Michael wished they’d brought more supplies than just the potions they had on hand, and bottled water, but they’d been in a hurry. At least they had plenty of shade and water from the creek nearby if they needed to cool down.

“So, Lizzy, you ever been in a battle before?” He needed to talk. The silence did nothing for his nerves, or Lizzy’s. The overwhelming amount of emotions surrounding him lately had been draining. 

“Yes. I have,” she answered. “Not an all-out war like my family and yours had seventy years ago. But before I was turned into a ghast, we had our share of battles. Our families worked together back then. Not unlike we are today actually. Howards were always in charge, but we were more than happy to help whenever it was needed. And there were a lot more of you back then. Frankly, I don’t know how you keep up.”

“Apparently, we’re not doing a very good job,” remarked Michael. “It’s so weird to think that you worked alongside our ancestors, before William even came to the Isle.”

“A few lifetimes ago,” she lamented sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Michael found himself saying. “I haven’t been very accepting of you being on the Isle.”

“I’m over it,” she replied with a shrug.

“You’re extremely forgiving. After everything you’ve gone through... how?”

“I decided if I ever got the chance to get my body back that I would not waste the opportunity. No regrets. No holding onto the past, dwelling on what I’ve lost. If I allowed that to happen I might as well just curl up and die because it would keep me from living now. I won’t waste my second chance feeling bad for myself.”

“That’s a wise way to look at things.”

“I say it like it’s easy, but it’s not. I have my moments and I’m sure I’ll have a few more. I’m glad to have Lucas and Riley though. It’s like having a family again. If I’d come back and been alone, I’m not sure I’d be handling it as well. And I’m much happier when I have someone to boss around.”

Michael laughed.

His smile dropped, his face going blank. There was a vehicle approaching.

“Probably nothing.”

But he jumped up at the ready, just in case. Lizzy did the same. They shot each other anxious glances when the vehicle came to a stop and the engine turned off.

“Do you think Feyks drive?” wondered Lizzy.

“No idea, but Eva Jordan does,” said Michael, taking a battle stance.

“I thought she was supposed to be out of it, healing, because of William’s blood?”

Michael shrugged. He’d take no chances.

He aimed his palm toward footsteps now heading in their direction. Lizzy was about to do the same when they heard whistling.

“Huh?” mumbled Michael.

A silhouette forged over the crest.

Michael breathed out in relief. “Grace.”

“Hello there,” the gruff woman called out.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” asked Michael, his heartbeat slowing back to a normal rhythm.

“Mack,” she explained. “She stopped in to refill her thermos and told me what was happenin’. Figured you guys’d need some provisions.” She lifted her arms, which held a basket filled with coffee, sandwiches, and pastries.

“You’re a life saver!” exclaimed Michael.

“Ah heck, think nothin’ of it,” Grace said. “Happy to assist our local witches do what they do.”

Michael took the supplies and set them on the ground. Grace looked at Lizzy. They hadn’t met yet.

“Hi,” Lizzy smiled, holding out her hand. “Lizzy Deane.”

“Wow, what a sight. Just look at ya. The famous ghost girl of Suicide Light,” jabbered Grace, shaking her hand in greeting.

“That’s me,” reeled Lizzy.

“Well I think you held the title long enough for the story to stick around,” Grace winked at her. “Welcome back to the land of the livin’.”

“Um. Thanks. Glad to be back in the land of the living.”

Grace turned to Michael. “Never thought I’d see the day a Deane and a Howard workin’ together. Guess maybe I had to see it with my own eyes. Nothin’ personal of course,” she aimed at Lizzy. “Just strange times to be on the Demon Isle.”

“Frankly, Grace, I’m not sure where we’d be without their help right now,” admitted Michael. The café owner tossed gazes back and forth between them for a moment. “Something else?” he questioned, taken aback by her sudden quietness. She wiped her hands nervously with the apron she donned.

Fear. She was afraid... Michael sensed it. He guessed she was not the only one. Word spread fast amongst the locals, no help from Grace on that count, he jested silently. You needed local gossip; you went to the Wicked Muddy Café and talked to its owner.

“We don’t know how dangerous it’s going to get, Grace,” he answered her silent question. “We hope to contain it. I don’t want to start any panics, but things are tense, right now. More tense than they’ve been since...” he trailed off.

“Since my relatives started a war,” Lizzy finished for him. “You don’t need to pretend it didn’t happen on my account. I’m just as horrified by it as any of you.”

Grace nodded kindly at Lizzy. “I understand. Mack filled us in on the basics of what’s happening. Not to get anyone riled up of course. But this is our home. As messed up as that can be,” she chuckled. “We’d sure hate to see dark magic of any kind return to the Isle.”

“Same here,” agreed Michael. Situation is getting a little too real, even the locals are getting nervous. I really hope we can contain this problem.

“Okay then. I’ll um, let you two get back to your jobs. It sure is nice to meet ya, Lizzy. And Deane or not, any friend of the Howards is a friend of mine. You be sure to come into my cafe anytime you like. I own the Wicked Muddy.”

“Oh, I know that place. My brothers can’t get enough of your coffee. Apparently mine sucks.”

Grace chuckled. “You guys just holler if ya need anythin’ more.”

“As much as this is appreciated,” said Michael, “it might not be safe to come back.”

Grace let out a throaty chortle. “Won’t hear nothin’ of it. Us locals may be a bit out of our element, and a wee bit nervous about things, but we’re hearty folk. You can’t beat us down so easily.” 

“I don’t know what to say Grace.”

“Truth is, Michael, we’ve been doing some talkin’.” She glanced at Lizzy. “Your return here has caused quite a stir. I don’t mean that in an offensive way. It’s just prompted some interestin’ conversations, brought up all the old stories. Rememberin’ our sordid history. We’re thinkin’ it’s high time we start pitchin’ in around here. After all, it is our home too, and we want to keep it that way.”

Lizzy didn’t take any offense. On the contrary, she thought their actions sweet, and loyal. “The locals in my day never had the open-mindedness you have today. They either had no idea what was happening or had every excuse in the book to explain the odd stuff that happened on the Isle. It’s sort of sweet, really. Everyone offering their support.”

“I like you,” decided Grace. “And once I do, well that’s just it. I do from that day onward.”

Michael chuckled. Lizzy had passed Grace’s likability test.

He was also at a loss for words though. He’d always known many of the long time generational locals and their families were aware that the Howards were witches, and that the supernatural and magic did exist. But they’d always just gone about their lives. Allowed the Howards to do their jobs, mostly in peace. Now and again seeking out their assistance.

But never did he even think about involving the locals in their work, in any fashion. It was dangerous enough for witches with powers. It could be deadly, fatal even, for regular folk to get involved. Still, the offer of solidarity meant more than he’d expected it to. He suddenly didn’t feel so outnumbered.

“You be safe out here now,” said Grace. “I’m off. Got to get back to the cafe.”

“Thank you, Grace,” called out Michael. He wished he could think of something more profound to say, but nothing else other than thanks, came to mind. Grace’s silhouette disappeared and a minute later her car started and drove away.

“I think there’s hope for this place yet,” whispered Lizzy softly. 

Michael tossed her a questioning look.

“I just mean, I’ve seen this island at its worst, and what I feel was its best.”

“Back in your day?”

“Yes,” she answered, pouring him a coffee.

“Was it really so different back then?”

“Yes, and no. The job was the same. But there were more people around to do the job. There was a comradery that hasn’t existed in a long time. Even just within your own family, and then adding our numbers; it was much easier to have a normal life in between all the supernatural stuff.”

“I have no idea what that’s like.”

“You three and William are doing the same job that twenty of us or more used to do at any given time.”

“That many? I guess I knew that, it’s just hard to imagine.”

“Ooooh, I don’t know what this is but I LOVE it,” Lizzy suddenly blurted out.

Michael shook his head at her sudden turn. “It’s a bismark. They bake a rectangular shaped donut, cut it down the middle and then sandwich jelly and crème in the center.”

“My new favorite,” she mumbled, her mouth full.

“You know what, hand me one of those. I haven’t had one in ages.”

Michael’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Melinda. “She says all’s quiet on the home front.” He texted back, “Same here, will check in again in a couple hours.”

“Heard from Charlie and William yet?” Lizzy asked, jelly and crème leaking out of the corners of her mouth. 

“No. Nothing yet.”

“I hope the rest of this day stays as boring.”

“I thought you didn’t like boring.”

“Eh, I just didn’t want to end up working alongside William today. I tend to... push his buttons. Figured he needed to focus. So I gave him a break.”

“I’m sure he appreciates that,” replied Michael. “I’ve been a little worried about William lately. Seems a bit off his game.”

“Well that’s just because he’s in lo...” Lizzy realized she was about to say something she should not and squeezed another bite of bismark into her mouth. 

Michael’s phone buzzed again before he could ask what she was trying to say.

“Oh, good. Emily made it home from the bookstore. ‘Cooking dinner. Making extra for anyone that wants to stop in, if you have the time, or need.’”

“She should bring some out here,” suggested Lizzy. She was well into her second bismark.

“Actually, I’m trying to keep her out of harm’s way. Seems like when she’s around me she’s just a magnet for trouble.”

“I’ve known a few people like that,” said Lizzy. “Some people just attract it.”

A spiral of ice surged through his veins.

Please don’t let Emily be a magnet.

He read the rest of Emily’s text silently.

‘Dad and I are going to marathon some TV show he’s been begging me to watch with him. Figured it was the perfect day for that. Miss you. Be safe. Love you.’

She’s home. And safe. He repeated this to himself before texting back a reply.

“Em, have fun with your dad. I don’t know as I can get away, but if so, I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Love you. Dying to wrap you up in my arms. So glad you’re home.”

He took a swig of coffee, the hot liquid sinking into his stomach. It brought with it a sensation he could not shake.

Unease.

Like it had just settled over the entire island, dooming them all. 

##

“THERE SHE IS,” SAID Charlie, nodding in the direction of the D.E.S.I. Reporter, Courtney Jessup.

“Looks as though they are preparing to speed off somewhere,” noted William. He used his vampire hearing to listen in. “Another sighting. Heading out to investigate.”

“I wonder if the Feyk are really still this active, or if people are just faking it at this point to get on TV?”

William grunted an incoherent retort.

“Let’s hope this pans out,” said Charlie. “We don’t have any time to waste. We need to capture a Feyk, and fast. How do you think we should approach this? Approach the reporter?”

William cast Charlie a sly look before flying off.

When he caught up, William was staring intently into the cameraman’s eyes, telling him to sit quietly and say nothing.

The reporter, Courtney Jessup, came darting around the corner of the van. “Hey!” she shouted. “Who are you and what...”

William grabbed hold of her shoulders gently and gazed deeply into her eyes. “You will answer each question I ask, truthfully.” The reporter nodded that she understood, a glazed look crawling across her face. He let go of her. 

“Are these sightings real, or are you making them up?”

“Real,” she replied.

“Have you witnessed one of these strange looking men yourself?”

“No.”

“Where was the last reported sighting?”

She blinked, seemingly to figure out how to answer. William waited.

“There were three, at once. One in a back alley downtown, one on a beach at Mermaid Point and one by a tourist while out fishing.”

“Where was this tourist fishing?”

“On a boat.”

Charlie let out a chuckle.

William cleared his throat. “Where was the boat located?”

“In the water.”

“Where in the water?” he asked, losing his patience.

“Just off shore, at the backside of White Pines.” 

“That’s where the old fort is,” whispered Charlie. “It would be a choice hideout. Tourists can’t get there right now. The road’s in disrepair and blocked from use.” 

William continued to question the reporter. “Did this tourist see this strange looking man at the old fort near the back of White Pines?”

“Yes...” her answer came out as more of a question.

“Can you elaborate?” grilled William.

“Yes, he did. But it wasn’t a man. It was men. Many of them.”

“I see. And how did he discover these men?

“With his eyes.”

William scowled.

“A little out of practice,” mused Charlie.

William tried again. “How did this tourist’s eyes find the strange looking men?”

“Using binoculars.”

“Why did he need binoculars?”

“His eyes can’t actually see that far. He was on a boat. Fishing. Too far away off shore.”

William ignored the laughter slipping out of Charlie’s mouth.

“Is this where you’re headed now? To where this tourist was fishing?” he asked the reporter.

“Yes.”

“You will not follow this lead,” William told her firmly. “You will go to Mermaid Point, instead.”

“Yes.”

“In thirty seconds time you will continue to Mermaid Point and you will not remember any of this conversation.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you will not remember this conversation?” checked William.

“Yes.”

“I think it’s all good, William,” said Charlie.

William turned to the cameraman and gave him the same directions as the reporter. 

He and Charlie skedaddled out of sight.

“So if the Feyk are hiding out at the old fort, how are we going to get there?” Charlie asked.

“No idea,” answered William. “But at least we can confirm that Courtney Jessup is a mere human. My persuasion would not have worked, otherwise.”

“You call that working?” said Charlie, wearing a smirk.

“We got what we needed, didn’t we?” retorted William. 

“I’m not sure that’s any relief. She was narrowing in on the Feyk as a mere human reporter. Going to get herself killed if she’s not careful.”

#

BACK AT THE NEWS VAN, the cameraman shook himself, blinking. “Oh, there you are,” he said to Courtney. “So, Mermaid Point is it?”

She frowned, furrowing her brow. “Give me a minute. There might be a change of plans.”

“You’re the boss.” He shrugged, packing up his camera gear.

Courtney meandered to the back of the van, befuddled that a vampire had just tried to persuade her. She’d played along. Had a bit of fun with him. Seemed the safer option than letting them know she was a witch. Plus, he was easily flustered.

“Almost charming,” she muttered thoughtfully. 

She’d known there were witches on the Isle, but had no idea they worked alongside a vampire. And the local witches were supposed to be good witches. She’d heard tales of them all her life. But was there really such a thing as a good vampire? She could not fathom the idea. 

But what did she do now? Do her job and follow the biggest lead she’d had on the Feyks to date? Or keep her identity secret? She hadn’t planned on making contact with the local witches. She wanted to do her job and get off the Isle.

“I’ve spent three years tracking Stricker. It might take me years to track him down again. I can’t lose this chance.” But not heeding the vampire’s orders might prove an equally terrible mistake.

##

THE D.I.C.S. TRUCK, otherwise known as the Demon Isle Cleaning Service, pulled into the Howard’s driveway. Normally, they cleaned buildings for the businesses around town. Most importantly to the Howards, they were aware of the supernatural business that took place on the Isle and were willing to clean up the messes that were left behind. Which could get pretty gnarly from time to time.

They towed a crane and forklift, ready to move and place the crates and their contents (the gargoyles) into place around the mansion.

Earl Skidgel, the elder cleaner, set into backing the forklift off the trailer. Josh, his son, came up to speak with Melinda.

“Hello,” she called out. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not exactly in your job descriptions.”

Josh was twenty-six, the same age as Charlie. They’d gone to school together on the Isle, but he’d only recently joined the family business after spending a couple years off the Isle.

“I hear you guys are spread a little thin,” said Josh. “We don’t mind at all.”

“I brought you guys a bite to eat. Figure it’s the least I can do, seeing as we’ve kept you pretty busy today.”

Josh and his father had spent the morning cleaning up the Jordan summer home, and all evidence of their lives there. Including the dead body of Anthony Jordan.

“Oh, nice, thanks. Just set’em down on the porch and we’ll have a bite before we get to moving these things.”

Melinda was surprised he didn’t question her about the Jordan incident.

Mack had explained a bit ago that she’d put all the Jordan’s belongings into storage and let the siblings cipher through them at their leisure. In case there were any clues, or helpful items to help figure out all the damage the Jordan’s had done. And just how far their reach was, off the Isle. 

If there were any next of kin, she’d handle that as well. Although so far, she’d had no luck tracking down any relatives.

Earl jumped down from the forklift, heading in their direction.

“I hope this morning wasn’t too brutal for you?” Melinda said to Josh. She couldn’t imagine having a job where sometimes you had to dispose of a dead body.

“We don’t ask questions. Just clean,” explained Josh. His eyes shouted that he had a hundred questions.

“That’s right,” said his father, Earl, coming up behind him. “We don’t need to know the business. We just clean it up. Ask no questions. Just do the job.”

Josh shrugged.

While he and his father each wolfed down a sandwich, Melinda explained where each gargoyle needed to be perched. Two at the front steps of the house and the other two at the very back of the yard. Thankfully, upon inspection, the gate leading into the back was wide enough for the forklift to squeeze through.

She let them get to it as Lucas appeared on the front porch.

“Had to stuff the bandana back in Riley’s mouth.”

“Did he eat anything? Drink anything?”

“No. Just spewing more spite than one person should be capable of.”

“This is taking far too long. What if they can’t capture a Feyk?” moaned Melinda.

Lucas didn’t respond, having no words of comfort to offer.

Josh reappeared with his father.

“Checked everything out,” said Earl. “We should be good to go.”

“That’s great,” she answered, glad to be accomplishing something of value. 

Earl glanced sideways at Lucas.

“Oh, sorry, forgot you guys haven’t met. This is Lucas... Deane,” Melinda added clearing her throat. “He’s helping out today, too.”

“I know who ya are,” bleated Earl. He was hesitant at first, but held out his hand after a moment.

“Nice to meet you,” said Lucas.

Earl nodded. “Did Josh tell ya the news?” he aimed at Melinda.

She shook her head.

Josh explained. “Dad’s officially retiring at the end of summer. I’m taking over.”

Melinda congratulated him, noting his father couldn’t have seemed happier that his son was taking over the family business.

“Well, if things keep up like they have been, you’ll have more business than you can handle,” vowed Melinda. She poured them each a chilled glass of tea. The humidity and heat were sticking around even though the sun was starting to drop.

“We’d better get goin’,” said Earl. “This could take some time and from what I hear, we want to get these things in place before dusk.”

“Will we actually see them move?” asked Josh, with a bit of nervous eagerness.

“I honestly have no idea,” laughed Melinda. “All I know is they are supposed to wake up when it’s dark enough. They travel in the shadows of the moon. They are supposed to be perfectly harmless. Oh, and they’re vegetarians.”

“Wicked,” said Josh.

His father coughed meaningfully.

“Sorry,” Josh apologized. “No worries, now. We’ll get it done.” 

##

A SILENT CLOCK TICKED in Charlie’s mind, a nagging reminder that time was drifting by and they had still not captured a Feyk or cured Riley. That Eva was still hiding out with the Feyk most likely sharing all the intimate knowledge she’d collected from reading the diary, or from her time on the Isle.

Charlie asked William to persuade a tourist to let them borrow his boat. Charlie’s own was docked too far away and not ready to use. He’d left the gas tank empty after his last fishing trip. The tourist prepped the boat for departure and handed the key over to Charlie before getting in his car and leaving the dock.

“Sure you won’t join me?” asked Charlie. He knew William was not fond of the water. 

“Water and vampires, not a healthy combination.”

“Not like it can kill you.”

“No. But holding my breath for that long seems, unnatural.”

“You’d be on a boat.”

William shook his head. “I’m good. Although, I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone to do this task.”

“I’m going to pose as a tourist and see if I can confirm that the Feyk are hiding out at the fort. That’s all. No contact. I’ve got the ring,” he reminded. The ring... a subject that had so many questions that needed answering. A ring that had allowed his wolf to act out its most primal urges as he romped around the Isle getting busy with Eva Jordan.

He closed his eyes wishing away the thoughts and memories. He did not remember all they’d done, but he recalled enough. And he didn’t have time to process it all.

“Charlie...” the vampire called out softly.

“Yeah.” He picked up his head and opened his eyes.

“What happened to you, it wasn’t your fault. Eva tricked you.”

“Only about being pregnant. The other stuff we did, that was all me. All my wolf.”

“True. However, you must remember that her purpose here on the Isle included claiming you. Stealing you away from your duty and your family.”

Charlie sighed and nodded. “It’s all just so... very messed up. And I haven’t had time to let it all process yet. I have so many questions about the ring that I might never get the answers to.”

William sucked in a coarse breath. “Can you do what’s necessary, Charlie? Considering your history with Eva? You were not seeing her consciously, but somewhere in your subconscious or perhaps even consciously, you must have found her appealing. At least a little.”

“I guess there was a part of me that did see some potential. It’s gone now. It died this morning.” He stared evenly at the vampire. “I’ll do whatever I have to, William. I am prepared to do what is necessary. My family and protecting the Demon Isle come first. Always.”

“Very well.” William reached out and patted his shoulder kindly. And what if Eva had actually been pregnant with his child, what then? At least that is one question we do not need to answer. He feared what this experience was doing to his charges. The permanent changes that would inevitably come once the job was finished.

Charlie jumped onto the boat and prepared to cast off. 

William put on a weak smile. “I’ll check in with Michael and Lizzy at White Pines, and then head home to check in on Melinda and Lucas. I want to personally check that the gargoyles are securely in their new homes.”

Charlie tipped his fingers from his head at William and cast off. When he looked back the vampire was already gone. It didn’t take long for Charlie to reach the shores behind the old fort. He stuck a bait-less fishing rod into the water, to make it look as though he was a tourist.

He didn’t need binoculars to look for signs of the Feyks. His wolf eyes were strong enough to see what he needed. 

Disappointingly, he saw nothing. No movement. No sign of any activity at all.

If they had been hiding out at the fort, they were not, now. Or they had some sort of magic at their disposal that could cloak their presence. It wasn’t an easy thing to create, it seemed more likely that if they were not here now, they had moved on.

Charlie hoped it wasn’t to White Pines.

He flicked the pole around, pretending to fish. He’d give it a little more time, just in case.

#

ON THE SHORE, COURTNEY Jessup lowered her binoculars. She’d let the cameraman take the afternoon off saying she needed to work on her blog and go through all the leads and make a plan of action.

Instead, she’d gone to where she believed the witch and the vampire would go. To see if the Feyk were at the fort. She’d just watched Charlie spying on the location and saw the look of disappointment spread across his face.

They’d moved. It was all the info she needed. She would keep searching. But now she’d follow the witch’s trail. The tourists were always a few steps behind in reporting their sightings. Now that the witches were searching, she would follow them.

#

WILLIAM CAME SCREECHING into White Pines at full vampire speed, stopping without warning in front of Michael and Lizzy, jumping them both.

“Sorry.” 

“Some warning would have been nice,” chastised Michael. “A bit on edge here.”

William threw him an apologetic gesture. “Anything to report?” He breathed in deeply, smoothing out a wrinkle he’d just discovered in his shirt. He flexed and stretched his neck a little after. 

“That right there, what you just did,” said Lizzy, “is by far the most exciting thing that’s happened all afternoon.” It ended with a wink.

William did not reply, but found her playful response did not annoy him as much as it usually did. Michael thought nothing of it, starting to get used to Lizzy’s outwardly flirtatious nature.

“Charlie is following up on a lead,” William explained. “We believe the Feyk may be hiding out at the old fort at the back of the park.”

“Really? Good hiding spot.”

“Yes. I wanted to check in with you two before heading home. Are you both okay to stay a bit longer? The cleaners are currently setting the gargoyles in place. I’d like to check on the progress.”

Michael glanced at Lizzy.

“I’m fine,” she shrugged. “Bored out of my mind, no offense Michael, I’m just not a sit around waiting, kind of girl, and I’m fairly certain I gained three pounds eating pastries today.” She shrugged again. “I’m good for another watch.”

“What she said,” agreed Michael, rubbing his sugar-filled belly. “And no offense taken, Lizzy. Sitting in the woods all day is about the most boring thing I’ve ever done.” But also a nice break; he hated to admit how everyone’s emotions were dragging him down and wearing on him. Though bored, he’d rather stay in the woods where at least he had a bit of peace. 

His phone buzzed. A smile etched across his face. And the day just got way better. “It’s Emily,” he said, answering her call.

William’s face turned to stone the moment the call went live. He disappeared in a flash, his reaction instant.

The frenzied scream coming through Emily’s phone line was stomach churning.

Even Lizzy heard it a few feet away, her insides turning to ice. 

Michael froze, unable to move, think, or create a coherent thought. His breath and voice cemented in his throat.

Lizzy grabbed hold of him. “Screw being here. Let’s go!”

They raced to the truck. Michael would not allow Lizzy to try driving. He wanted to arrive in once piece. She didn’t think he was in the right state of mind for driving. Regardless, she didn’t argue, and they sped off leaving a trail of debris behind them.

##

THE TWO GARGOYLES AT the back of the mansion were out of their crates and perched. They looked like stone statues, nothing more. No movement or indication they were alive at all. They appeared similar to each other and yet had slight differences that told them apart.

They had wrinkly looking skin, wide faces, with grins reminiscent to a pit bull thought Melinda, except that each had long fangs that overlapped their lips. Giant, bat-like wings lined their backs- Melinda hadn’t realized they’d be able to fly. One was a little taller than the other, and the other a little wider. 

At the front of the mansion, the other two crates were opened, but not perched. Dusk was near. Soon the moon would rise and the gargoyles would spring to life, slipping into the shadows as they kept watch over the grounds. Earl Skidgel and his son, Josh, were scurrying to get them perched and in place before that happened.

Melinda and Lucas were on the front porch with the front door open behind them, letting the cool ocean breeze flow into the mansion. The heat of the day had finally relented. Melinda sat on the edge of the porch her leg shaking unconsciously, her fingers tapping against her shaking leg.

Lucas leaned over and gently pushed against her thigh. “That’s not helping.”

She frowned. “Sorry. This sitting around waiting is driving me to new levels of crazy.” The more hours that passed, the prophetic dream she’d had the night before sliced its way to the surface of her thoughts. We have Riley tied up in the basement, she kept reminding herself. He can’t hurt anyone as long as he’s there. He can’t torture William as long as he’s there.

“I didn’t think we’d still be sitting here come evening myself,” Lucas said invading her thoughts. He glanced back into the house. You could just make out the kitchen, where the basement door was located.

“I don’t know how much longer Riley has until he’s just too far gone,” Melinda rambled in a panic. “I mean, it’s been all day! What’s taking so long?” Her breaths got shorter, air hard to get into her lungs. “What if we can’t get the Feyks to undo what they did to him?” Her heart stuttered, skipping a beat. “What if he just keeps getting worse? What if I didn’t do enough to stop my vision from coming true? What if he hurts someone? What if he kills...”

Lucas pulled her to her feet. “Take a breath.” 

She did, but it was shaky and shallow. “Panic attack,” she squeaked out.

“Obviously.”

She saw the same fears swimming in his eyes, but he was staying so calm. How? 

“I’m okay,” she insisted sharply.

He lifted an eyebrow in distrust of that statement.

“No. I’m not,” she caved.

“Didn’t think so. It will be okay, Melinda. Just breathe.”

She nodded. Please. Please. Please. If there’s anyone in the cosmos in charge of such things, please let it all be okay. Please don’t let anyone get hurt. Please don’t let Riley hurt anyone. He’s not a killer. He’s not even a violent person.

A soft touch caressed her cheek. Her eyes darted upward to see Lucas looking quite concerned. She pushed out a rushed exhale.

“I’m okay now. Really.”

He accepted her answer this time and dropped his hand.

She watched Earl and Josh move gargoyle number three onto its perch.

Just one left to go.

Shouting echoed from the basement, wafting out to them on the front porch.

“Great, he got that bandana out of his mouth,” sighed Lucas.

“How are you not having a panic attack right now?” grilled Melinda.

“Oh, I am. I just react differently to panic than you do.”

“By seemingly being the picture of perfect coolness?”

He chuckled. “I used to get them a lot after my parents died, and I was suddenly custodian of a younger brother. I got some help.”

“What kind of help?”

“Mainly, the kind of help that showed me how important it is to see that when everything is spiraling out of control, to remember the things that are also going right. It’s a rare occurrence that everything is actually going wrong, all at once. But our minds go on this autopilot, pulling out all that’s negative.”

“It’s hard to focus on the positive when the bad sucks so royally,” said Melinda.

“For a long time it was very difficult to find anything positive in my life,” said Lucas. “And I don’t pretend to be an expert on the subject, but for me, I look for just one good thing to focus on. The crappy stuff doesn’t just go away, but if I can remember that one positive thing, it helps me manage the rest of it.”

“So what positive thing are you thinking about right now?” she asked him, desperate to find one thing she could grasp on to, and focus on. 

“Um,” he stalled.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I just don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“I was actually focusing on how pleasant it’s been to get to know you. The circumstances bringing us together suck, but hanging out with you is still a positive about this day.”

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks blushing. She couldn’t help but take it the wrong way, just a little bit. It was becoming clear to her that the Deane brothers were not only perceptive, but devilishly charming as well. He was right though. Having him there had made the day better. Survivable even. She didn’t vocalize that though.

“Only you can find the positive in all the negatives,” Lucas went on. “But if you keep that good thought at the forefront of all others, rather than all the crap you cannot control, it brings a little more balance back in. Evens things out a little. I don’t know if I’m explaining it very well.”

“No. I get your point,” she said. “Get it... don’t know if I can do it.”

“You seem calmer now,” he noted.

“I suppose I am.”

Riley’s shouting grew louder and more frenzied.

“If this doesn’t end soon, I may have to take back everything I just said,” Lucas exclaimed. “He is getting worse by the minute.”

“Spiraling,” said Melinda. There was no positive good enough to keep her from panicking. The sun dipped below the trees, the moon rising up.

Her vision had taken place in the dark.

Was it tonight? Were they too late?

No, Riley is still safely locked up. She pleaded and prayed silently that she’d done enough to keep the vision from taking place. That her family was safe. That William would not be tortured. William... she still had not told him that Riley’s rage was aimed at him. Stop. Just stop. I had the vision to stop it. We found Riley. We’ll fix him. None of it will happen now.

Melinda and Lucas gasped.

The sounds of a snorting inhale and exhale escaped from something close by.

With eyes open wide, they turned around to see the gargoyle perched in front of the porch, shaking itself into life. The one still on the ground, not completely out of its crate shook mightily, easily breaking its remaining bonds.

Josh and his father, Earl, watched it happen, stunned to see it. 

They’d run out of time. The moon had risen. The gargoyles had come to life.

Melinda took a few steps down the porch stairs, in awe. The gargoyle on the ground sniffed the air as if smelling her. She reached over to the leftover food tray and grabbed a donut, extending her arm, unsure whether that was brave or stupid. It ignored her and backed into the shadows of the trees lining the front yard, its silhouette disappearing into obscurity.

She was lowering her arm when the perched gargoyle jumped down, landing much softer than she expected it would. For such a bulky creature it was light-footed. It sniffed her hand, glanced up at her with a gaze that spoke to her, silently. This creature was intelligent. And curious. But also kind and trustworthy. It tickled her fingers with its lips, tasting the donut.

She let out a low chuckle. “This is so weird. William said they wouldn’t be like pets, but...”

The gargoyle lifted its head and nudged her hand. She rubbed its floppy-skinned cheek, surprised at how soft its rough looking skin felt. It looked up wearing a wide grin, not unlike a big happy puppy. 

“That just looks so wrong,” Lucas said from behind her.

The cleaners could do nothing but nod in astonished agreement. They’d never seen anything like it.

“I guess you guys can go,” said Melinda. “Looks like we’re good here.”

Josh and Earl started packing up.

Melinda jumped when the gargoyle’s broad head shot up, a low growl escaping from its lips. It bounded up the porch stairs squeezing through the door into the mansion. Its head lifted into the air and it let out a sound unlike anything they’d heard before. It was part growl and part honking. Before Melinda could blink, the three other gargoyles were responding in the distance.

“I wonder if everyone on the Isle can hear them,” Melinda asked. She was much more concerned though, over why it entered the house and was making so much noise. 

The gargoyle stopped, unable to fit through the kitchen door. It did not force itself through, but instead pointed its head at the basement. Melinda and Lucas stared at each other. Was it warning them? Was it Riley? Did the gargoyles sense him as evil? Were they too late to save him?

They raced down the basement stairs to the venomous rants spewing out of Riley’s mouth, which consisted of all the ways he planned on torturing William. It stopped abruptly. Mid-sentence.

Lucas grabbed the key to unlock the cell door only to freeze upon it swinging open. It wasn’t Riley the gargoyle was warning them about.

A Feyk stood behind Riley casting a grin so reviling it shot a cold snap from Melinda’s head to her toes. She raised her palm and shot off a spell meant to knock the Feyk into the wall. He popped out too fast, a plume of smoke in his wake. Her spell slammed into a bookcase instead.

The Feyk popped back in again, this time, taking hold of Riley in his chair, using him as a shield. Riley’s head was leaning forward, his bonds still secure. It looked like the Feyk had knocked him out.

Melinda hesitated. Unsure of her aim. 

“Please let him go,” begged Lucas. “What do you want with him?”

“Undo whatever spell you cast on him,” demanded Melinda. 

“Why would I free him when he’s just now ripe?”

The Feyk had been waiting.

Biding their time, waiting for Riley to reach the perfect level of rage.

The Feyk’s body dissolved into smoke, taking Riley with him.

Melinda covered her face with her hands, shaking her head in disbelief over what had just happened. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. This is not happening. This did not just happen. “What is it you were just saying Lucas, about not everything can go bad all at once?”

He glowered in agreement. “If I ever try to give you advice again, just remind me I have no idea what the heck I’m talking about.” 

The gargoyle was still inside the mansion, now making a terrible ruckus. Melinda bounded up the stairs to see what was happening. As soon as she made it up, the gargoyle vacated the house waiting on the front porch, chirping as if trying to tell her something. It went down a couple stairs and stopped, still chirping.

“Is it telling us to follow him?” questioned Lucas.

“I think it is.” She had not expected to be able to communicate with the gargoyles.

“Should we?”

“They sense evil. Maybe they can track it too. Maybe they can show us where the Feyk took Riley.”

Lucas was glad he’d driven his brother’s motorcycle back from the quarry. He grabbed Melinda’s hand and they raced to it, hopping on. They didn’t bother with the helmets, letting them fall to the ground. He kick-started the bike roaring out of the driveway, ignoring the stares of the cleaners as they tore off to follow the gargoyle.

They flew through the town, taking a turn down a darker, less lit road, the shadow of the gargoyle in hot pursuit of the Feyk. It was hard to see it, but the gargoyle made itself known to them so they could follow more easily. And yet it remained unseen by any unsuspecting eye. A shadow moving in the darkness.

Melinda dug out her phone and dialed Charlie.

He answered. “Hey, Sis. Just got back onto land, what’s...”

“Charlie! The Feyk took Riley.”

No reply.

“We’re chasing after one of the gargoyles. I think they can track the Feyks. We’re following on the motorcycle, Lucas and me. Hoping to find out where they took Riley.”

“Okay,” Charlie finally replied. “Um, where are you right now?” He tried to remain calm, but was not thrilled that his sister was chasing the Feyk, especially with a guy who didn’t use magic and could not protect her. And all on a motorcycle while following a gargoyle. Following a gargoyle? She’s chasing after a gargoyle. Wow, our lives are beyond strange.

“We just went by the ferry landing downtown.”

Charlie was about to order her as calmly as possible to turn around and go home, and they could do this together, later, when he heard her shout and the line went dead.

“Ah, dang it!” Melinda shouted. She’d lost her grip on the phone as they bounced over a pothole. It smashed against a rock. 

“Sorry,” exclaimed Lucas.

“Hazard of the job. Second phone I’ve broken this summer though. Brothers are not going to be happy about that.” She could see Charlie’s face right now, freaking out that the line had gone dead.

“I’m having a hard time keeping up,” Lucas shouted back. The gargoyle took them down the road leading to White Pines. If nothing panned out, Melinda decided they’d stop and check in with Michael and Lizzy, believing them still guarding the old tree.

The gargoyle picked up speed.

Lucas did the same.

Melinda grabbed hold tight as they followed its monstrous silhouette under the silvery moonlight.

##

EVA JORDAN PACED IMPATIENTLY. She had brought the Feyk precariously close to the doorway leading to the power source, but kept them in a gully not too far away, hunkered down as they waited for the cover of darkness. Which had now descended.

Although feeling better, she still could not use her shifting ability. It wasn’t a spell the Feyk could remove, at least that’s what the Feyk claimed. It would take at least another day to wear off.

Her body was feeling physically stronger, but still not up to par. Her strength was barely more than a human woman of her size.

She didn’t have the advantage of a quicker healing solution, like vampires did. They could heal themselves with human blood. Not instantly, if the injury was severe enough, but much faster than a werewolf could.

It wasn’t fair, she often thought. Their bites were poisonous to each other, their blood paralyzing, and yet when it came to healing, vampires had it way easier.

She had no fast cure, only time to let her werewolf body heal itself.

All that considered, it was far better than being dead.

Sir Tinkham Sickereaux, otherwise called Stricker, was getting on her nerves again. He wanted to know where the door was, and she kept telling him she wanted proof that the vampire would suffer and die.

She’d done more than her share at this point and wanted to see some results for her efforts.

One of Stricker’s partners in crime popped in out of nowhere, taking a deep bow.

“Yes,” slithered Stricker.

“Good news. We broke the magic the witch performed on the lighthouse doors and the Soul Hunter has left the Isle. Our magic didn’t last long, the doors are shut once again, but it stayed open just long enough to complete the bargain.”

“Good, good,” replied Stricker. “It’s all in motion.”

“Not everything,” reminded Eva.

“Not to fret my shifty friend. Our, your, vampire killer will be here any minute.” Stricker made an irritated sound when someone sniffled nearby. He spun around and peered into an iron cage, closed with a hefty lock. “Humans,” he muttered with a shudder. “Always so emotional.”

Eva stepped over to the cage, a cold stare peering down at their new prisoner. “A father for a father.” Her gaze lifted to Stricker. “But I won’t be satisfied until the vampire is ash.”

The prisoner’s only response was sobbing. Stricker, sick of listening to it, slipped his fingers through the bars of the cage and touched the prisoner’s head. The sobbing stopped and the prisoner slumped over, unconscious. 

##

WILLIAM WHISKED INTO the Morgan home, having no idea what to expect after hearing the nauseating scream of Emily through her phone. He stopped in an instant, listening for anyone or anything still present in the house.

He heard nothing. He stepped cautiously through the living room and into the kitchen. Signs of a struggle were rampant. A knocked over lamp. A broken vase. Food in the kitchen, spilled onto the counter and the floor.

And then he smelled it.

Blood.

It was coming from the back of the house.

He swung open the back door and froze. There was a lifeless body on the ground.

##

“BREATHE, MICHAEL,” ordered Lizzy. His gaze shot to the side, his stare intense. No air reached his lungs, just shallow gasps in attempt. They’d stopped at a four-way intersection with a skid, almost missing the stop sign.

Lizzy flipped her head, looking at a motorcycle speeding down the opposite intersection. “Was that Lucas and Melinda? Whatever.”

Michael checked for traffic and was about to slam the gas pedal down when he released it. A siren came blaring up behind them, passing by. It was Mack. William must have called her. If his heart got any heavier, the weight of it would sink him. 

They peeled out after the sheriff, following. They pulled into the Morgan’s driveway and before the truck had come to a complete stop Michael had jumped out, running to the door.

Mack met him and stopped him.

“Let me in,” he ordered breathlessly.

“I will, but first you should know...” Michael peered over her shoulder, straight through the house out the back door. William was pulling a sheet over a body.

Michael staggered backwards.

“It’s Mr. Morgan,” revealed Mack. William had told her over the phone.

“Em-Emily?” he got out in a coarse whisper.

“Missing.”

Mack stepped aside and let Michael through. He barely felt his legs moving underneath him. The next thing he knew he was falling to his knees next to Emily’s father’s body, staring blankly up at William.

“Stabbed. Through the heart.” He saw no point in lying or smoothing over what had happened. “He died quickly.” It was the only comfort he could offer. He looked away from Michael to see Lizzy at the back door, tears brimming in her eyes. Mack was inside, on the phone.

William reached down and grasped Michael’s shoulder to show his support, then left him alone to gather himself.

Lizzy followed him inside.

“Still excited to be human again?” William asked her, his voice stricken with pain.

“Death sucks,” Lizzy whispered. “Can’t escape it.” She shook her head. “I meant that it happens every day. It doesn’t make it any less of a suck fest.”

“On that, we agree,” said William.

Mack came over. “Any idea what really happened? Should I call the cleaners? Let my deputy handle it? Do I need to come up with a story that’s believable?”

Michael strode inside, his face sickly looking. “What happened is Eva Jordan.”

“How do you know this?” questioned William.

“She left us a message.” He’d found Emily’s phone next to her father’s body. He held up the phone and pushed play on a video.

Lizzy had to turn away. She couldn’t watch.

Michael cringed as he listened to Emily begging Eva to spare her father, screaming in horror when Eva killed him in front of her.

“A father for a father,” Eva trolled sadistically. She waved into the camera as if recording a snippet of a fun summer party. It was a game to her. Child’s play. 

Eva turned the camera on Emily, her deflated frame held up by two Feyks, one holding each of her arms. Tears mixed with blood, trickling down her cheeks. She had a cut below one of her eyes. Eyes that now looked dead and lifeless. Rather than bouncy and cheerful.

Eva grabbed hold of the Feyk and they dissolved into smoke, taking Emily with them.

Michael handed the phone to Mack. His brain numb. Unable to process what the heck was happening.

Lizzy could think of nothing comforting to say. This was a level of anguish and insanity she’d never dealt with before, during her human or ghastly years.

Even William had no words. Mr. Morgan’s life was the price of him not killing Eva when he’d had the chance. Each time he thought they were gaining the upper hand and about to fix everything, they were shot a mile backwards. Always playing defense. Eva’s vengeance over her father’s death, and her mother’s from years ago, now came with a hefty price tag. He’d never forgive himself for hesitating. He’d always regret not killing her when he had the chance.

An odd thing happened to Michael as his brain processed what had taken place. The numbness grew. Spreading. His senses shut down completely. No emotions. Not from Mack or Lizzy. He never got any from William, as he was a vampire, but he’d never had his empathy just shut down.

For this one moment, all he felt was a singular desire, something completely his own. “That conniving bitch is going to die, in an extreme way.”

William didn’t like hearing Michael say this. The hatred in his tone. The vengeful warning flicking off the edge of his tongue.

Although he agreed wholeheartedly.

But Michael didn’t kill just for the sake of killing, and there was a toxicity in his tone he’d never heard before. A raw desire for revenge. To cause harm. Not just to end what needed to be ended for the sake of the Isle, or for the greater good, but a desire to hurt.

It was a natural human response to what had happened. However, William feared he was losing his wards. That this battle would take them down a dark path, one difficult to recover from. One that would leave permanent scars.

Darkness was okay for him. It was his true nature. But not for the Howards.

“You guys better get out of here,” advised Mack. Her fight was all but gone. “No sense in dragging you all into this mess. You can’t do any good here. I’ll take care of Mr. Morgan. You... you go find Emily.”

They left, though not nearly as energetically as they’d arrived.

Michael got behind the wheel. His resolve hard and steady. “Where to?”

“Home,” said William. “We need to regroup.” 

##

THE GARGOYLE CAME TO a sudden stop. So then did Lucas. 

“White Pines,” mumbled Melinda. They were at a side entrance to the park. One still used, but not as often as the main entrance. Somehow, it did not surprise her that the park is where they had ended up.

She worried about Michael and Lizzy in there all by themselves, guarding the old tree. She had no idea they were no longer in the park. And with her phone smashed, she had no way to contact anyone.

Lucas didn’t have his phone, having left it at the mansion. The battery had died, and he hadn’t had the chance to go home and get his charger since they’d found his brother. It was an older phone, and the Howards didn’t have a charger he could borrow.

Lucas hid the motorcycle behind some trees.

The gargoyle lifted its head and pointed, with a sharp snort. 

“I guess that’s where we need to go,” said Melinda. It was a path leading into the woods.

“Do you know where it leads?”

“No, I’m not sure. And it’s getting very dark.” Melinda held back a shudder.

A damp nose nudged her arm. The gargoyle snorted with a panting grin, its wet tongue hanging out. She reached out and petted its broad head. It returned her gesture with a nuzzle against her hand. A strange sort of happy trill came out of its mouth.

“I think it likes you,” Lucas chuckled.

Melinda smiled. “Thank you,” she told it. “Thank you for helping us.”

It abruptly turned and dashed into the shadows. She assumed to return home.

“There are some parts of this job I’m not sure I will ever get used to.” Melinda turned to Lucas. “William said they sensed evil, but he never mentioned they could track evil.” 

“Maybe William didn’t know they could track.”

“I doubt that,” said Melinda. “Probably just didn’t bring it up. Probably didn’t expect we’d be following one so soon.”

Their gazes turned from the shadow running home back to the path the gargoyle had brought them to. Lucas looked apprehensive. He wanted to find his brother. But this did not seem like the smartest idea, just sauntering off into the dark woods unprepared. 

“I am aware,” stated Melinda, recognizing the look he wore. “We’re not prepared in the least. I just want to confirm if this is where they are, then we’ll go home, meet up with everyone, and make a solid plan.”

“Okay. We’re not prepared, but I don’t think I can just leave Riley out here either way. I need to know where he is.” He led the way, motioning for her to stay close behind him. He wasn’t about to abandon his brother, but he would have preferred to be more prepared. He had a bad feeling his brother was going to need more help than he or Melinda could offer. 

It was dark. An ink black sky. The moon hidden by passing clouds.

Melinda didn’t dare create any light for fear of giving away their presence. They took one cautious step at a time, attempting to remain calm. Melinda was glad she had worn her tennis shoes rather than flip-flops today.

She broke a twig underfoot and froze. They held their breath but heard nothing in response to the noise she made. Lucas reached behind him protectively, keeping her steady and still.

The moon came out of hiding casting a silvery glow around them. Shadows danced, tree branches swayed as if reaching for them.

Just the breeze. Just trees.

Melinda flicked her head to the right. Had something just moved? Her eyes searched but saw nothing.

“Let’s keep moving,” whispered Lucas, turning his head toward her.

“Okay.”

They moved forward, deeper into the woods. The only sound, their quiet as possible footsteps and shaky breaths. Lucas stopped abruptly, reaching back to stop her. He shook his head a minute later.

“Sorry. Thought I saw something up ahead. There’s nothing.”

The silence was overwhelming. If they didn’t move, and stopped breathing, and Melinda could somehow control the thudding of her heart against her chest, the silence was almost deafening.

The silence...

“Do you hear that, Lucas?”

He listened, and shook his head.

“There is nothing to hear,” she told him poignantly.

They listened again.

Nothing. Not anything.

No birds. No insects buzzing. No owls hooting. Just utter and complete silence. Almost like all life had been sucked out of the place.

“I don’t like this,” breathed Lucas heavily.

“Yeah, I’m starting to agree with you.” She toyed with turning around and getting her brothers, feeling as though she’d made a terrible mistake. Why had she come here? Why had she followed the gargoyle? Why had she allowed them to fly off without being prepared? And Lucas didn’t know much about using magic.

She sucked in and let it out slowly.

She’d done it to save Riley. So had Lucas.

Melinda gasped.

A sound. Lucas heard it too. 

Hideous snickering.

Melinda tried not to let out the frightened whimper gurgling in her throat. She was confident she knew exactly what sort of freaky face was making such a terrible sound. She wished desperately William and her brothers were here to help.

Oh my God I messed up. So bad this time. So bad.

This fear needled into her pounding chest.

The eerie laughter echoed in front of them.

In back of them.

Over their heads.

They were surrounded.

Lucas walked in a circle seeking out any moving shape. Melinda tried to calm herself and focus. She raised her arm, although not as confidently as she wanted to. Her hand shook as she faced her palm outward, ready to strike.

Thwack!

It came out of nowhere.

Lucas toppled to the ground, knocked unconscious.

Melinda spun, gasping. Her voice stopped working and she could not form the words to call out to him. Her eyes widened, bulging. Dark shapes moved fast all around her. Bodies? Trees? Shrubs? Shadows?

Her breaths came out ragged and swift.

She needed light, but she could not create the light orbs like her brother Charlie. It was not wise to start a fire. She might end up burning down the entire park. Melinda leaned down and felt around on the ground, snatching up a thin branch. She needed to see already! She shot fire onto the thing and it burst to life.

It cast a haunting glow in front of her face, lighting up the night just in time to see the toothy grin of a Firebrand Feyk advancing in front of her.

It pulled her attention away from the Feyk attacking from behind. 

##

MICHAEL PULLED THE truck into the mansion driveway. His brain ran through scenario after scenario of how they’d track Eva Jordan, the Feyk, and now Emily. He was surprised to see the cleaners just pulling out to leave.

They slowed and rolled down a window, explaining that Melinda and Lucas had shot off on his motorcycle, following one of the gargoyles.

“She did what?” breathed out Michael.

“Tore off outta here,” explained Earl Skidgel. “After some prisoner got plucked outta your basement.” He didn’t ask for explanation of why there was a prisoner locked in the basement. The cleaners pulled out.

Lizzy let out a groan, plunking her head onto the dashboard of the truck.

Michael had no response than to turn to William on the other side of her.

The vampire got out of the truck.

“Stay here, Michael. Wait for Charlie,” he commanded. “Do not do anything rash while I am gone.” He knew Michael was in full swing, save Emily mode.

“I’ll wait,” promised Michael, though William wasn’t sure he trusted him.

“I’ll make sure,” said Lizzy.

William nodded curtly. “I’ll find Melinda and Lucas, and will return as soon as possible. Then together,” he emphasized sharply, “we will formulate a plan, and locate Emily.”

Michael parked the truck, sitting behind the wheel, his mind reeling, emotions still numb.

William vanished into the night.

Melinda’s scent still hung in the air, faintly, but enough that William could track it easily. He was not surprised when it led him into White Pines. He stopped, breathing her in.

She’d been here recently. The scent was more powerful. No, it wasn’t that her scent was stronger. “Blood,” he uttered. An outraged snarl pushed through his lips. It tore at him to think of her injured and bleeding. With another dash at vampire speed, he stopped and crouched down, his hand hovering just over a pool of blood.

His nose caught another scent.

Another pool. He assumed it belonged to Lucas.

They were both injured and had been dragged away. Taken. Now prisoners.

Most likely now in the clutches of Eva Jordan and the Feyk.

He stood erect again, sensing something nearby.

With a blink, his eyes flashed an angry black. His fangs dropped, ready to sink into whoever had done this. His eyes shifted from side to side, his head unmoving. His body in complete stillness.

They were near. He could not see them, but they were close. The Feyk. Probably Eva Jordan. Most likely Melinda, Lucas and Emily, as well. 

William reached out for Melinda’s mind. He found her with ease; she was close enough for him to slip into her thoughts. “Melinda,” he called out to her silently.

No reply. Only an entranced moan. No thoughts in her mind, only darkness.

She was alive but unconscious. Close enough for him to slip into her mind.

William let the connection break. He flew forward, her scent still strong.

His eye caught something on the ground. He stopped, crouching down.

It was a tennis shoe, which belonged to Melinda. His eyes scoured the surrounding area for more of her personal belongings. He found her second shoe a few steps away, hidden under a bush.

If Melinda was outside she’d be getting cold. The night air on the Isle was chilling even on summer nights, and she was not dressed warmly enough. Plus she’d been injured, and was losing blood.

A guttural growl spewed out of his throat.

Those responsible would not live to see morning. 

##

MELINDA TASTED SOMETHING rusty in her mouth. Her eyelids struggled to open and the back of her head throbbed. She tried to move her arms; they wouldn’t. 

She felt a chill on her toes. Her feet were bare. An uneven surface underneath her.

It took a minute to get her eyelids to cooperate and open. It was dark and difficult to see. She tried to move her arms again.

She could not, because she’d been tied up.

It hit her quite suddenly, what had happened. She and Lucas had been caught by the Feyk. They’d gone traipsing off into the woods unprepared, searching for Riley. And gotten caught.

Her tank top and cutoff jeans, perfect for the hot summer day, were not enough to stave the incoming night chill. She shivered, although she was certain not all her shivering was from being cold.

Don’t panic. Deep breaths.

Her eyes slowly focused, but it was dark. Too dark to make out where she was being held. Her arms were bound behind her back, which was pressed up against something hard and tall. It went the length of her body. The bonds wrapped around her middle and down her thighs far enough that her legs had almost no mobility, except to adjust her feet to a new position. What kind of mess was she standing on? It was not flat or even, and very uncomfortable.

They had her tied up nice and tight. No way to get free. Her captors had clasped her palms together just like they had done with Riley, to keep him from using magic. She could try all she wanted to but any magic or spells she attempted would just get sucked up by the other hand, effectively canceling out the spell.

There were witches that could work spells without speaking them. Or using their hands to channel the magic; Melinda was not one of them. This was something that took many years of practice to master.

What it all came down to is that she was bound, and helpless.

There would be no easy escape.

Her captors were smart enough to know how to stop her.

Oh my God. I’m someone’s prisoner. I can’t move. I can’t defend myself.

Just. Don’t.

Just... don’t...

Focus. You’re not going to get out of here unless you focus and don’t panic.

Lucas, where is Lucas?

Her concerns moved to Lucas. Where was he? Maybe he was close by but still knocked out. She listened, hearing nothing but deafening silence mixed in with her own panicked breaths. She tried to control them but her lungs would not obey.

She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious but it was still dark, with a sliver of shadow from the moon overhead. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dark. She made out a few distant shapes and silhouettes. Of what, she wasn’t entirely sure.

A cool breeze hit her bare legs and feet. She shivered and peered down.

Maybe I can somehow shimmy out of these knots. If I could just see what I’m standing on. What I’m tied to.

There could be a weakness. Don’t stop looking. Don’t stop trying.

Melinda could practically hear her brothers’ voices encouraging her to keep going.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God.”

Everything went numb for a few seconds. Her mind shut down almost to the point of passing out. Even in the outdoors with a light breeze whistling through, there was no air. Her lungs refused to suck in deep enough. Her eyes fluttered and she fought hard to keep them open and stay conscious.

Below her feet was a pile of wood stacked high off the ground. 

She was bound to a stake, perched on a pyre.

“This isn’t happening.” She mumbled this breathlessly over and over. 

She’d had the dream to stop this from happening.

All she’d done was place herself on the pyre instead of William.

The nightmare replayed in her mind. Riley’s heartless torture of William, the heat of the flames, the fire blistering her skin. Every terrified detail unraveling until vomit threatened to rise up her throat.

There had to be a way out.

She looked around desperately but there was nothing but darkness and distant shapes. No sounds. No movement.

She begged her mind to stay with her and not give into the fear and dread about to drown her. No, she would not drown. She’d burn.

Think. Just think, she ordered her brain. I’m in the woods. Probably White Pines. She focused hard on a tallish shape in the distance, but straight in front of her. It looked like another person. Lucas...

She called out to him in a loud whisper, her voice echoing back at her, getting no response. Fearing he was injured, she squinted, trying to get a better look. The clouds lifted just then, a wider shadow cast silvery light down into the trees.

“Oh...” it came out riding a ragged exhale.

It was not Lucas. It wasn’t a person at all.

Before she could stop it, tears streamed down her face.

She was merely the bait to set the trap.

It was a second pyre.

And Melinda knew exactly who it was meant for.

If she hadn’t been bound to the stake she’d have fallen to the ground.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No... this was the only word that clambered through her brain. Melinda tried to scream but nothing came out.

She needed William to know it was a trap set for him. To warn him to stay away. Why hadn’t she just told him everything that had happened in her vision? If he found her like this, he’d never turn around and leave her. He would attempt rescue.

This is what they wanted. She felt it in her bones.

They’d bound her to the stake to make him attempt rescue.

She was the bait, so the trap had to be close.

She squirmed, barely able to move. She searched desperately, looking for the trap.

How would they immobilize him? 

William was strong. It took a lot to take down a vampire.

Blood of a dead witch could do it. She had no idea if they had any; of course, they could just kill her and use her blood... but there was a much more effective way to paralyze a vampire.

Fangs of a dead werewolf, or werewolf’s blood could cripple William almost instantly. Melinda knew Eva had possession of the dead werewolf Charlie had killed (believing it was the alpha).

Melinda groaned despondently.

Why hadn’t she just told William the truth? At least warned him that Riley’s rage was all about killing him. When explaining her dream, she’d only said that Riley killed everyone but her and William. She’d left out the rest. Thinking she was sparing everyone’s feelings.

Is this how it all started? How her dream would come true?

And would it really end with her and William burning at the stake? Forcing him to change her into a vampire to save her life...

She didn’t see how that would be a possibility now, being there were two pyres instead of one. Did that mean something had changed? If so, it was not for the better.

She had not done enough to stop her nightmarish vision from coming true. 

Her fear of having an awkward conversation or hurting someone’s feelings seemed stupid now.

No, dumb.

Really freaking dumb.

The most foolish, shortsighted and selfish mistake she’d ever made.

And now William, her William, would suffer the price.

As if on cue, William appeared out of nowhere, his murderous gaze fixed firmly on Melinda and the pyre she was bound to.

“It’s a trap,” Melinda cried weakly upon seeing him. “You have to leave me.”

With a silent spring, he landed with a soft thud directly in front of her, his perfect face just inches in front of her own.

“They’re going to torture you,” she cried. “And then kill everyone else and burn us both. I didn’t tell you everything about the dream.” The words gushed out of her, each one stabbing at her throat.

William swept the tears off her cheeks, saying nothing.

His hands slipped down around her waist to release her bonds.

“We’re both dying... burning,” she continued flatly, “and you turn me into a vampire to save me.”

He cringed, pulling back. She thought because of her confession. 

Numbness crept through William’s fingers, billowing up his arms.

“Werewolf’s blood,” he recognized too late. Melinda’s bonds were laced with it, her own blood from the injury on her head covering up the smell.

“Please, William. Go,” she pleaded frantically. “While you can.”

His dark eyes penetrated hers. She saw it happen, the realization that he should flee, flashing swiftly into, he’d never leave her no matter the cost. 

Melinda felt it before she saw it.

She gasped, a cold, thick liquid sloshing over the top of her head, raining down over them both. It blinded her. Caught in her mouth as she shouted for William.

When it cleared, he was no longer in front of her.

He’d stumbled and fallen down the pyre.

Bursts of light popped to life, torches firing up in a large circle around them.

Figures of the Firebrand Feyks popped into visibility. One eerie satisfied grin after another. They had been hiding, and waiting. And the trap had been sprung.

Melinda spurted the cold liquid out of her mouth, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes.  William. Where was he? What had happened to him?

Her focus landed on an iron cage about thirty feet away from her, sitting on the ground at the opposite side of the gully they were in; Lucas and Emily were inside. Both looked to be unconscious.

Why was Emily in the cage? How had she gotten here?

Melinda heard William groaning and cast her wide eyes downward.

He crawled across the ground toward her, his limbs not functioning properly. Globs of blood covered him from head to toe, soaking through his clothes, seeping into his skin.

Melinda assumed they’d used more werewolf blood, and in a second he’d be paralyzed and helpless. Just like her. 

Behind William, an imposing figure approached out of the darkness.

Riley Deane. 

Another silhouette emerged behind him. 

Eva Jordan.

“You made it far too easy for us,” she directed at Melinda. “Came right to our doorstep.”

One of the Feyks joined her. “And here I thought we’d have to plan and scheme to capture a Howard.”

“I told you, Stricker,” gloated Eva. “They can’t turn away the chance to play hero. And lover boy over here knew just the right bait to catch our prey.”

The Feyk lowered his creepy oversized head into an impressed bow, motioning for Eva to continue with her plans.

Feyks lined the gully, watching, with no intent on stopping what was about to unfold. In fact, they looked sickeningly delighted.

Riley climbed up Melinda’s pyre, a bucket in hand.

Her eyes widened. What was in the bucket?

She held her breath as he lifted it over her head and dumped the contents over her. She gasped at the biting coldness of it.

Water, she realized. It was just water.

“Sorry,” said Riley, wiping her face with his hands. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you covered in all that blood.” He took her wet, matted hair and pulled it out of her face, placing it behind her shoulders. His gaze was devoid of the normal emotions she always saw there. The drunken wildness had taken over his grin.

“Let me go,” her voice trembled, the tables turned. She now begging Riley to be released from her bonds. If she could get her hands free, she might be able to stop this. “Please,” she begged him.

She winced when on the ground below her pyre Eva kicked William viciously. Riley peered down, letting out a flat chuckle.

William fell flat on the ground, unable to lift himself back onto his knees.

Eva cared less that it took a huge expenditure of energy to do it. The pleasure that steeled into her veins watching the vampire suffer was worth the effort.

Riley turned back to Melinda. “You’re safer right here. You’ll be able to see just how weak your vampire really is. You won’t ever be free until I prove this to you.”

Tears fled her eyes. A chill crept into her bones. Her teeth chattered, a mixture of fear and cold.

“Please, Riley. Please don’t do this,” she sobbed.

“I have to do this,” he told her.

“I’ll leave with you. Right now. We can go anywhere you want to. Just the two of us.” She squished her eyes closed and opened them in a poor attempt at control and honesty. “Anywhere,” she repeated. “Just the two of us.”

He sighed. “That does sound nice. But he’ll just follow us. Try to steal you away from me.”

“No. No, he won’t. I promise you.”

Melinda flinched as Eva kicked William again, rolling him onto his back.

Riley’s gaze shot sideways, then back to her as if his point had just been proven.

“You’ll never be mine until the vampire is dead.” His eyes stared into hers. Cold. Unfeeling, other than rage. One-minded.

The Feyk’s spell had taken over.

Her nightmare was coming to life.

The reality of watching Riley torture William shattered her into pieces.

Melinda could not believe the next words that spewed out of her mouth. “Then free me, Riley. Free me right now and ki-kill him. Get it over with and we can leave here.” She didn’t know if she could survive any scenario that included losing William, but it was a better fate than hours of torture with the outcome still being a painful death.

The death request did not have the effect Melinda hoped it would.

Riley kicked the empty water bucket off the pyre, jumping down, his tone accusatory. “If you don’t love the vampire, why do you care what happens to him?”

“I don’t love him,” she cried despondently. “I don’t love... William.” She was unable to speak his name without pain riding the word.

Riley scowled. His spiteful gaze penetrating her with a level of fear she’d never experienced before. An icy sweat ripped through her and she thought for sure she was passing out. 

How had this happened? How had they fallen so easily into Eva’s trap?

Where were her brothers?

It struck her that they wouldn’t even know this was happening. Possibly for hours. Possibly ever. The rest of her family might be locked up in a cage somewhere else.

Why had she had the dream if there was nothing she could do to stop it?

Just so she could suffer through it twice?

No.

It wasn’t the vision or the reason behind having it, to blame.

It was completely her fault for not sharing it, in its entirety, with the people it mattered to the most.

There was no one else to blame. Only her.

William’s torment, bloodshed, and death, was on her hands, and her hands alone. 

Eva towered over William, a leg on each side of him. She leaned over, to see directly into his eyes.

“Nothing personal, Vampire, just returning the favor,” she spoke dejectedly. “Oh, wait. It is completely personal.”

His body slid out from under hers. Riley dragged William across the ground like a bag of garbage towards the pyre opposite Melinda. It took him, plus three Feyk, to hoist William up the pyre and bind him to the stake.

“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.” Melinda closed her eyes and opened them, praying she was about to wake up from another dream at any moment.

There was no dream, no nightmare, to wake up from.

No one was going to show up and save the day.

Tears streamed freely. There was no stopping them. She tried to look away as they bound William to the stake, but was unable to do so. Was he conscious? Aware? She sobbed, knowing the answer to those questions.

He was paralyzed, physically. Not mentally. He was still awake and aware in a useless body. Like someone who didn’t go under properly after having anesthesia. And was forced to live a waking nightmare as some painful never-ending procedure was done to them.

William’s physical strength so weakened, he couldn’t even hold up his head. It drooped over in front of him.

Eva jaunted over and climbed his pyre, a disturbing smile on her face.

She grabbed William’s head, hoisting it up, so his eyes could see Melinda tied to the other pyre. 

“So here’s the deal, William. If you beg for death, and you will... we’ll light up the sobbing little witch and you’ll have a front row seat to watch her burn before you join her. Got it? Good.” She dropped his head and jumped down. 

Melinda stared back in complete terror. The reality of what was about to happen, crushing her. Everything started to spin rapidly. If her heart pounded any harder it would burst out of her chest. Splotches of black burst in front of her eyes. 

William’s torture would never end.

He’d never ask for death if it meant ending her life. This was a fact she didn’t need any vision to tell her. It might take her life being threatened by a tortuous death to turn her into a vampire, but William would never request death if it meant taking her with him. 

Riley stood about halfway between their pyres, facing William. A fireball danced precariously in his hand. 

Blood rushed to Melinda’s ears.

She screamed.

She could feel it in her gut, but she could not hear it.

Her body shook, her lungs labored in attempt to get enough air.

She struggled in vain to get free of her bonds. 

A voice slipped into her mind, soothing, but weak. 

“Don’t be frightened, Melinda. Close your eyes.”

It was William’s voice. Feeble, but certain.

She did not question how she’d heard this, or if it was even real, she just obeyed.

Crushing her eyelids closed as tightly as possible.

She did not witness Riley’s first strike upon William, but the blood drained from her ears and the sounds of it cut into her brain, engraving a permanent scar.

##

CHARLIE SPED ALONG the road toward home, too many thoughts and concerns racing through his mind. He’d just hung up from one of the most disturbing phone calls of his entire life.

Michael had called to explain what had happened to Mr. Morgan, informing him that Emily was missing. That he and Lizzy were at the mansion, and William had taken off to retrieve Melinda and Lucas after they’d charged off across the Isle chasing a gargoyle. Charlie had lost contact with her, unable to reach her, his calls going directly to voicemail. The world was spinning out of control and he had no idea how to get it to slow down.

After hearing what Eva had done to Emily’s father, Charlie knew without a doubt that she needed to die. And that she’d stop at nothing to get what she wanted. What was that now that her father was dead? Was she planning on carrying out their original plans?

No matter how hard he tried, he could not keep up. Even with his werewolf abilities or the Guardian ring. He was always a step behind. Always catching up. Always just a little too late.

Why couldn’t he get ahead?

Was he just bad at the job?

How had his parents done it?

Charlie didn’t remember his childhood filled with moments like these.

Did they happen, but somehow his parents hid it from him?

The road wasn’t lit well and Charlie bounced around, ignoring the potholes, in a hurry to get home. He needed to come up with an idea. A solid plan to get them back in control. He was tired of being a step behind at every turn.

“What the heck?” he exclaimed, seeing someone staggering in the middle of the road just ahead.

He was lucky to have seen the man at all as he was dressed in dark clothing.

Charlie pulled to a stop, shouting to the man. “Hey, get off the road before you get run over.” He didn’t have the patience to help the man right now.

Probably just a lost, drunken tourist.

He’d have Mack take care of it. He grabbed his phone to call her.

The dazed man spun around, peering at Charlie. He stepped closer, his silhouette drowned in the jeep’s headlights.

Charlie dropped his phone, his fingers no longer able to hold their grip on it. 

It was a ghost he was seeing. Nothing more.

He opened his door and got out of the jeep.

He kept hold of the doorframe for support when his legs faltered underneath him.

The man walked up to him.

“Charlie? Is that you?”

It took Charlie what felt like forever to find his voice.

“It’s really you,” he breathed out. “How? How did you get here?”

“You say that like I’ve been away. It’s only been a few hours, Son.” He looked at Charlie’s face more closely. “You look... different.”

The shock started to wear off, a feeling of comfort spreading throughout Charlie.

Everything would be okay now.

Jack Howard had come home. 

Charlie did not know how it happened, and he did not care.

His father would fix everything.