From the Ashes (Witches of The Demon Isle Book 8) (13 page)

“Or something?”

“Like she said, not everyone here takes kindly to strangers who show up out of the blue. We get travelers, but usually not unannounced.”

He took a sip of beer and a bite of food, his brain straining to understand.

“So how did you find us?” she asked, dying to know.

“That is difficult to explain.”

“We don’t drink from humans,” she stated bluntly. “If you were worried about that. It’s one of the rules for living here. I’ve never had a drink of human blood in all my time as a vampire. My
parents
were quite strict. But I dare say you’d taste even more delicious than you smell.”

Riley choked down his beer. Her easy, bold nature sending his blood pumping through his heart at full pace.

“When you say parents, I’m assuming you mean the one who sired you, and the woman, Jean? Or did she sire you and then adopt you?”

“I call the man who sired me, father. Only in the sense that he gave me new life. Jean adopted me a number of years after. And she’s the best mother a forever twenty-year-old could ask for. She took me in after my father accidentally turned me.”

“How old are you really? Um, sorry, if I can ask that.”

“Three-hundred-forty-nine,” she returned proudly.

“Seriously? Wow, you’re almost as old as…” he refused to think of William Wakefield, the only other vampire he’d ever met who was just over four-hundred.

“Old as who?” she prodded.

“No one. That’s a lot of years, hard to wrap my head around. How long have you been living here?”

“This colony is about to turn two-hundred-twenty-five years old. My father started it. A safe haven for Supernaturals who chose not to be monsters. Or wished to live with the freedom to be who we are without persecution. We get new blood here and there, and visitors, but it’s not as often as it used to be.”

“So your father is the leader of this place?”

“Not so much now. He started it. Made sure it would succeed. Spent about twenty years with us and left. I haven’t seen him in about thirty years. Mind you, vampire visits and vacations are not the same as humans.”

“Being that you live so much longer…” Riley guessed. “So you do leave this place? Are you allowed to?”

“Yes. It’s not a prison. It’s our home. But I don’t leave often. I get an itch to travel every few years, investigate the rest of the world like anyone might. But Sorcier is my favorite place to be, I guess because it’s home.”

“A home is something I can’t really relate to,” Riley admitted. “Not the last few years anyway.”

Annie waited for him to explain but didn’t push when he did not.

“I think part of the reason my father created this place was to make sure I had a stable home. He’s always carried tremendous guilt over turning me. He was but fifty years a vampire at the time. Was definitely not the saint-like vampire he became after turning me, but he’s always supported me and my mother, from afar. And it was turning me that made him give up his wild ways. He’s also the reason I’ve never drank human blood, and came to live with Jean. They became friends while living in the American Colonies, and she adopted me and they brought me down here years later. She’d always regretted not having a child while she was still human.”

“American Colonies, you mean like the original settlements, back before we were even the United States?”

She gave him a firm nod wearing a bright grin.

“That really puts a face to the date. You are really old.” Riley narrowed his gaze in apology. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Just… wow. That’s a lot of history to live through.”

“It is. I find it fascinating.”

“Sounds like, other than being turned into a vampire, you’re pretty lucky.”

“I am. But I think all the more for being turned. I don’t think my father’s ever gotten over the fact that once I got used to the idea, I love being a vampire. My life before was terrible. I didn’t leave anything behind. Not worth missing anyway.”

Riley sat back a little, shaking his head.

“A bit much take in?” Annie guessed.

So much. So very much. And yet in the thirty or so minutes he’d been here, he’d gone from freaked out and thinking he was a dead man to I think I’d like to stay. There was something about this place, vampires, supernaturals, or whatever else lived here set aside, that called out homey. Comfortable. And safe.

“I had no idea a place like this existed. Maybe if…” he went silent, finishing in his head.
Maybe if Lucas and I had come to a place like this, things would have turned out different. But this is a place of magic. Lucas would have hated it just as much as The Demon Isle.

“You don’t like sharing much, do you?”

“I normally don’t mind. But at the moment, not really.” Things he considered too personal at least. Or events too fresh in his mind that he’d rather forget about.

“Fair enough.” Annie was easy to please. Riley liked that.

“So how many vampires live here?” he asked.

“A handful. A large handful,” she restated. “We’re a mixed bunch here.”

“But you all get along?”

She shrugged. “Most of the time. As with any group of people differences of opinion make tempers flare.”

“Am I really welcome here?” Riley questioned next, noting her flat, unflinching gaze. Easy to control for a vampire though.

“Jean will make it so. She’s not an actual leader here, more of an unspoken one.”

“Because it was your father, her friend, who started this place,” assumed Riley.

“Yes. That and she cares about each person here. She’s like camp mom. Super mom. Whatever you’d like to call her. People value her opinion and seek it out often. You’re lucky it was her that caught you enter.”

“Lucky you guys have a business right next to the door.”

“There are others,” Annie told him. “We don’t sit around waiting.”

He nodded. Finished with his food.

“How do outsiders not come through, accidentally?”

“Magic, of course. Mainly, because to see the door you have to have supernatural blood in your veins.” She raised her eyebrow in question.

“I’m a witch,” he revealed. “Currently of the non-practicing kind.”

She laughed at that.

“And do you have a last name, Riley?” She prodded softly, and he stalled for a minute wondering if perhaps he should give a fake last name.

“Deane,” slipped out before he could think up any other. “Riley Deane.” No flinch. No hint of knowing or fearing the name, Deane.

“Welcome, Riley Deane. Non-practicing witch.” She didn’t push for more information, just grabbed his empty plate. “Oh, and just so you’re aware, Jean can work her magic with these people and get them to accept you here. But be careful. People in Sorcier lose trust much faster than it’s gained.”

“Right. Not a problem. I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Why are you here?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“I have no idea.”

She breathed in and out, looking him over. “I’ve decided there’s more to you than just delectable smelling blood, Riley Deane.” The rest of her gaze warned him she’d peel away every layer until she had him all sorted out.

Before she vanished into the kitchen, he stopped her. “Annie, I don’t suppose you happen to know of a cheap place for rent, or anyone hiring? I am in need of a bed, and a job.”

“My guess is, you’ll be working here. With me.” She smiled. “And we have an empty guest room upstairs. Nothing fancy. But the bed is…
firm.
” She made special note of this fact and fired him a playful wink.

What was with all the women in this town? He’d never been hit on so many times in one day, ever. “Look, Annie. I’m grateful for the food. A bed. And a job. And I’d be a liar to say you weren’t gorgeous. But…”

“Is it because I’m a vampire?” she interrupted evenly.

“No. No… it’s just, I have no idea how long I’ll be here. I’m not planning on sticking around long.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “I can hear when you’re telling the truth you know. It’s only fair to tell you I guess. Jean tells me it’s an extra gift I’ve been given. Kind of annoying really if you ask me, to know when people are blatantly lying to you.”

He knew all about annoying gifts. His had brought him here. Which thinking about now, perhaps wasn’t so bad after all.

“So you got a girl, Riley?”

“I’m not sure how to answer that question.”

“You’re telling the truth, you don’t know if she’s yours. But your heart definitely belongs to her, doesn’t it?” She didn’t expect a reply. “She break your heart, or you break hers?” Annie asked unabashed.

“Um…” there was no simple yes or no answer, and it wasn’t a subject he wished to discuss. “It’s not as easy as her, or me. The truth is, my heart doesn’t really belong to anyone. Not even me. So there’s nothing to give anyone else.”

His gaze dropped downward, tiredness kicking in, desire to talk, lost.

“Riley, your bed is up the stairs, first door to the right.”

“Thank you. And please thank Jean for me if she comes back and I’m not awake. Even if it’s only for the night, I appreciate it.” He made his way up and opened the first door. He got inside and closed it. What a strange place. But that
feeling
he got, told him he needed to stay. Was he safe? He had no idea. But the bed was too inviting to leave now.

It was a sparsely decorated room, meant for the short-term traveler. A dresser. A bed. A closet. That’s as far as his investigation went. He ambled over, didn’t bother undressing, plunked down snoozing, seconds later.

Outside his room, Annie listened to him sleeping. She looked up when a wooden floor plank creaked under the pressure of a soft footstep.

“He’s here. Seems willing to trust us.” She held up his empty beer mug. “Gave him a little something to help him sleep. He won’t wake for at least twelve hours.”

A silhouetted face nodded. Satisfied.

Jean and Annie had come through. Gotten the local sorceress to cast a spell, one to match the young man’s gift. To make him believe his ability had brought him here. That it was his destiny to be here…

He had Riley Deane right where he wanted him.

CHAPTER 10

Charlie, Lizzy, and Melinda used the potion they’d made earlier that afternoon to track the missing reporter, Courtney Jessup. They started at her apartment, which was blocked with police tape. They were careful to take it down in a manner they could replace after leaving.

Once inside, and the door closed, Lizzy threw the potion bottle onto the floor. It smashed on contact letting out a translucent veil only they could see, which snaked out searching the space for signs of Courtney being here. It never made it to the front door, after five minutes the veil poofing into nothing.

“She hasn’t been here in over a day,” Lizzy told them. “This trail is cold.”

A disappointing start.

“We should try the TV station office next,” suggested Melinda.

“Yeah, I imagine that’s where she spent most of her time outside of this apartment.” Lizzy was ready to go.

“I’m not so sure about that,” disagreed Charlie. “This could end up a waste of time. I have a feeling the reporter spent most of her time out of the office.”

“What are we going to do, potion bomb the entire island?” argued Melinda.

Lizzy gave a closed mouth chuckle.

Then got to thinking…

“That’s not actually possible, is it?” Charlie questioned curiously.

“No. Not without blowing our cover at least. And how to distribute something like that. Oh wait those flying thingamabobs… with the metal wings.”

“Planes…” filled in Charlie.

“Or there’s always the old fashioned way,” quipped Lizzy. They didn’t respond. “You know, broomsticks.”

“Really?” Melinda responded. “I had no idea witches actually flew on broomsticks.”

“Hasn’t been done in a very long time. And mostly only chicks did it. Most men found the experience quite disagreeable.”

“Never going to catch me on a broomstick,” Charlie stated emphatically, shifting uncomfortably in the need to protect his manhood. “I suppose it only makes sense, though. That witches and broomsticks myth had to start somewhere.”

“It’s fun though. Quite the rush, flying. Funny, I haven’t thought about riding a broomstick in forever.”

Charlie cleared his throat at the unintentional innuendo.

Lizzy smirked.
Lecherous
one track mind…
and dang it, she liked it.

Melinda scowled at her brother. “Way to ruin flying on a broomstick before I even got to try it…”

“Sorry.” When it came to Lizzy, apparently he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself, no matter how unspoken they were.

Melinda wondered what it would be like though. Flying up high, seeing the world from that vantage point. Almost like riding a motorcycle in the sky…

Lizzy left the apartment. “No more to see here. I am going to give this potion bomb some thought, for future endeavors. It will take some time and experimentation. But potentially make quicker work of a job like the one not going so well right now.”

Out in the parking lot they piled back into the jeep.

“So, TV station it is,” settled Charlie. It was second best option after the apartment. About fifteen minutes later they pulled into the parking lot and held tight. It was just after dark now, and the building about to close up for the night. Once the coast was clear the trio got out and Lizzy smashed another potion bottle near the front door.

It didn’t go inside the building though, but rather snaked through the parking lot veering off the backside into a wooded area. They ran over and saw there was a pathway. The potion fizzled a few feet down, but it was a recent trail.

“It’s a lead,” informed Lizzy, pleased the potion worked. There was a nervous excitement in her voice. It meant that the reporter had been on the Isle within the last day, which meant something fishy was definitely going on. Another stroke count for the
odd
column…

Was she hiding? Was she really missing, or just off her boss’s radar?

Charlie took lead and headed down the path, with Lizzy and Melinda right behind. They walked silently, each step taken as cautiously as possible. It was dark so they had to rely on Charlie’s sure footing and good night vision (thanks to his inner wolf).

With the trees and moonless night thanks to cloud cover, it got dark, fast.

Melinda’s head snapped to the right.
What was that?

A flutter of noise a few feet into the woods barely off the path…

She stopped. Listened. Heart pounding. But there was nothing. Probably just a bird taking flight.

“You okay, Sis?” Charlie called back in a loud whisper.

“Yeah. Sorry. Was nothing.” She picked up the pace as fast as she dare with it being so dark. Her eyes adjusted, but even so, it was easy to miss a jutting branch or stone. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the dark haze, and focus. She glanced upward trying to get her bearings but inky splotches blurred everything.

A shadow moving ahead of her… Charlie? Lizzy? Or something else? Her arms reached out in front of her feeling for anything.

Crap… nothing to grab onto; just air. Dark, can’t-see-anything air that had no oxygen in it. Her next breath came out sharp and fast. Why was this happening? Her brother and Lizzy were right ahead of her. And yet she could not hear them. Or see them.

Blood rushed to her ears, full panic attack hitting her. This dark wooded area was too similar to when she’d been captured by the Feyk. She spun around, gasping, afraid there was someone behind her. But only darkness…

She jumped, and gave a start.

Something brushed against her arm.

A muffled voice said something she didn’t understand.

She staggered back but a firm grip caught her before she fell to the ground.

Lizzy and Charlie were in front of her, their faces dim in the dark.

I’m not alone. There’s no one attacking
. It took a minute for the panic to subdue enough to hear the concerned voice of her brother.

“Melinda?” he called out for the tenth time.

Her gaze finally caught his, seeing him clearly.

“Ch-Charlie,” she stuttered through the chatter in her teeth.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded of her.

“I-I’m fine,” she lied.

“Jesus. You’re having a panic attack,” he put together. “You’re not fine.”

“Just give me a sec, and I’ll be fine.”

Charlie glanced down at Lizzy, wondering if he should have her bring Melinda home and let him finish on his own here. Her silent response wondered the same thing right back at him.

“I’ll be okay,” Melinda told them more firmly. She shook out of his grasp miserably. What just happened? It was like the world caved in on her.

“What happened?” Charlie interrogated calmly.

“I got spooked.”

“That was more than spooked, Melinda.” Lizzy matched Charlie’s level of calm concern.

“I don’t know what happened. I was fine and then everything went all weird and blotchy. I looked up and couldn’t see you guys. Couldn’t see two feet in front of me and just… panicked. Everything closed in on me after that.” Disappointment weighed heavily as she spoke. “I thought…” she let the sentence dangle, not wishing to admit what she was thinking.

“Thought you might get attacked again?” guessed Charlie.

She nodded gloomily.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think,” he returned.

“You can’t be sorry about everything, Charlie. It’s not your fault,” Melinda’s voice snapped harder than she’d planned. He didn’t take it personally, she was angry with herself.

“Would you like to keep going?”

“I could take you home,” offered Lizzy kindly.

“No. I’m not going home. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fine, let’s just keep moving.”

“Are you sure?” asked Charlie.

“Yes.”

Charlie stalled for a moment, unsure, but continued when Melinda didn’t argue differently. When he turned a second later however, there was a tug at his shirt and he looked down to see his sister had grabbed on.

“Just in case,” she whispered dismally.

He wanted to send her home, but she’d only refuse. Lizzy brought up the rear of the trio and Charlie kept going. Not too many more steps in, the path ended at a small clearing. It was enough time for Melinda to gather herself and get a calmer heart rate and breathe normally again. The clearing was a break area where people came for a quick lunch, or a smoke, as there was a pile of old cigarette butts and some trash near a burly, downed log.

“Seriously?” chided Lizzy. “Since when do people treat this island like a garbage bag?”

“God, and what’s that smell?” Melinda let go of Charlie, plugging her nose. The breeze had picked up blowing a terrible stench their direction.

Charlie sniffed. And growled. There was something dead nearby.

Lizzy and Melinda caught onto that fact too. There were few things with a smell so pungent or putrid.

Nerves made breaths heavy again, and muscles trembled even though Melinda begged them not to. Charlie didn’t want her getting any closer.

“I’ll look. You stay with Lizzy.”

Melinda had wanted to be brave, but finding a dead body tore that desire right out of her. She nodded, giving in. Lizzy shot him an agreeing look. She wasn’t in a hurry to find a dead body either, and wouldn’t argue with Charlie right now.

All three prayed hard it was not another dead body, drained by the vampire. In this case, a body they assumed would belong to Courtney Jessup.

Charlie stepped purposefully, his wolf hearing taking in every sound. Nothing out of the ordinary. Silver filtering through the darkness. He saw nothing but a few birds, high up in the trees. An owl, hooting. A buzzing stung at his ears. Insects, close to whatever dead thing lay ahead. The smell sickened him. Left bile churning in his gut.

He approached the log, held his breath, and leaned over to look with a hardened swallow.

Melinda and Lizzy waited with bated breath as he straightened his body, twisted his head to see them and breathed out, “Deer. Not human.”

The two women’s bodies relaxed in simultaneous relief.

“Oh thank God,” Melinda let out.

He searched the carcass and surrounding area for any potential clues. The reporter had still recently been here. His sister and Lizzy made to join him when he growled. They froze in place as he spun around throwing his silver glower their direction.

“What?” both women asked at once.

“The deer… this was a vampire kill.”

“Recent?” gulped out Melinda.

“I’d guess last night, possibly this morning.” He motioned for them to come see. He hunched down and pointed out the fang marks. It was a bloody mess, similar to the human bodies, with blotches of red blotting the carcass. There was no misidentifying the distinct and identifiable marks where fangs had punctured a vein and sucked the poor animal dry.

“So this vamp has a wide variety in its diet,” noted Lizzy apprehensively.

Not unlike William…
was what both Charlie and Melinda heard in between the lines.

Most vampires either drank from animals, alone, or purely humans. But rarely ever both.

They investigated the surrounding area, sticking close together, but found no additional clues. Lizzy smashed the last potion bottle she’d brought, in attempts to locate a continued trail from the reporter, but there was nothing. Had the reporter found the dead deer? Or worse, interrupted the vampire, mid-meal? It was odd that the trail didn’t continue when the reporter had clearly been in this spot, recently.

“Maybe she went out the same way she came in?” suggested Melinda.

“Only option,” agreed Lizzy. 

Other than the dead deer, it was a dead end, just like this lead.

Charlie called Mack and explained the finding.

She in turn, called Josh, to get the deer mess cleaned up so no tourists could happen across the scene.

“You’re certain Josh will be safe?” Mack needed to know.

“I can’t actually say that,” replied Charlie. “I’ll stay and help. I’d bury the damn thing myself if I had a shovel.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll contact Josh. Hang tight.” Mack hung up.

“You want us to stay?” asked Lizzy. She nodded ever so slightly at Melinda, silently asking him if he wanted his sister to stay or go home.

“No. No need to stay. Nothing can hurt me,” he waved his ring. “Although, on second thought, the two of you walking home alone…”

Lizzy rolled her eyes. “I am capable of looking out for myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he readily agreed. “But it still makes me nervous.” He pleaded with her not to be mad, and comply this one time without argument.

Lizzy grinned, amused, but caved. “I guess we’re staying.”

Melinda didn’t argue. And this pissed her off. She didn’t want to be afraid anymore and here she was, minutes ago, in the throes of a panic attack. With another just waiting to bubble up. So much so she’d rather stick it out here with Charlie, than chance the walk home.