Demon Street Blues (12 page)

“Okay,” she nodded, backing away, a happy grin spreading across her face.

She rejoined Melinda, and they stepped outside. As they walked, Melinda animatedly explained everything that had happened. She was so focused that she didn’t even notice the busy streets lined with evening tourists bustling from place to place.

Emily noticed though, and said nothing, but was unable to hold back a happy grin. She had spent a lot of time with Melinda, but had never seen her like this. Clearly, something had changed.

She listened intently to all Melinda was telling her, still finding it hard to believe that the Howard’s own mother had possessed her body. She wondered how often spirits would try to reach out to her and want to use her in this manner. How would she know if they were good spirits or malevolent spirits? There was definitely a long talk with her father coming.

Melinda decided once she’d gotten Emily home, not to stick around. It looked like her father had a lot he wanted to discuss, and it felt like it should be a private conversation between Emily and her father.

The walk home was not nearly as easy going as the walk to Emily’s. Mostly because she didn’t have anything to keep her mind off the fact that she was walking down a congested street, alone.
Too many people
. All bumping into her, rushing here and there and crowding her... she inhaled deeply, hoping to stave off an oncoming panic attack.

“They are just people,” she mumbled under her breath. “And just because you’re around them doesn’t mean you’re going to start having prophetic dreams about them all!” Somehow, saying it aloud made it better.

She tried to focus her attention on something besides the people. Like the street lanterns flickering to life as the sky darkened overhead. They cast hazy beams of orange and yellow down on the cobblestone walkways below. It was pretty. Haunting in a way. A nice thing about living on The Demon Isle. The same lanterns had been used to light up the town streets for over a hundred years. They cast a haunting glow on passersby.

Her panic was subsiding. She stopped for a minute before taking a corner and watched the tourists oohing and aahing over the lanterns. Taking out their cameras and clicking pictures.

To anyone that didn’t know better, they’d look at these streets and think they had traveled back in time. This is part of what gave The Demon Isle its charm. People came here to have an old fashioned, nostalgic sort of experience, sided with the hope of seeing a real ghost along the way.

“Just people having fun,” Melinda told herself. “Something I need to do more often, too,” she decided. She took the corner towards the Howard Mansion only to crash head on into a body topped with disheveled dark hair.

Instinctive arms reached out, and hands wrapped around her shoulders to keep her from falling backwards.

“Oh,” she released in a quick exhale, as she found herself face to face with someone familiar. It was motorcycle man from earlier that morning, minus his helmet.

He was taller than she’d thought. Not as tall as William, but she had to lift her chin to see into his eyes. Which were dark. Molasses dark. Just like his eyelashes and thick head of hair.

“Sorry,” Melinda said absentmindedly. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.” She wished suddenly that she had put on makeup that morning and worried she had noticeable blemishes. She was thankful it was getting dark, perhaps they wouldn’t show.

The young man didn’t reply right away, his arms still securely around her shoulders. The corner of his mouth turned up in a playful smile. A dazzling smile that was easy on the eyes but hard on her breath; she suddenly felt very aware of her throat having a hard time swallowing or moving the right amount of air into her lungs.

“No worries, it’s nothing,” motorcycle man finally spoke to her. “Personally, I didn’t mind it.” His voice was as welcoming as his smile.

Motorcycle man could not believe his luck. He’d had a strong feeling about this street, so strong he had to walk down it. Now he knew why. Although, the feelings he got normally brought him to someone that needed help. Not to beautiful women. Or maybe this beautiful gal did need his help.

He hoped it was the kind of help that required him to kiss her, or maybe even get undressed… his heart strummed. He’d never felt anything like it. It set his entire body abuzz.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

Melinda nodded, unable to peel her eyes away from his. She hoped he didn’t pull her in any closer; he’d feel the panic attack thumping hard against her chest. This one, however, was not due to being away from home, but rather at how awestruck she was by this total stranger.

His arms felt perfectly natural as if made to fit around her. She got a strange sense that she had known him for much longer than a minute, and that somehow, they were destined to bump into each other. Her magical gift didn’t work like that though.

So what was this?

And could her mother have been any more right? Her heart scrambled to keep up.

William.

Molasses-eyed motorcycle man.

William,
her
vampire.

The dark haired stranger, who she was clinging to, tightly!

Her eyes widened and she dropped her arms. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip, watching fingernail indents fading in the thick muscles just below his black tee shirt sleeve.

He didn’t notice. Or he didn’t care.

His hands slid down her spine, splaying low across her waist before freeing her. His eyes watched her every reaction to his movements. His hands searching for a sign that she enjoyed his touch. Taking in every delicious curve.

She didn’t notice her responses, other than to suddenly lose her ability to swallow, but she must have pleased him, as his smile, if possible, turned even more dazzling. His molasses globes beamed as if he’d made some secret discovery meant only for him.

Damn… my
feeling
is telling me I got to be somewhere else now.
Motorcycle man released Melinda, winked and stepped by her, disappearing around the corner without another word. He sure hoped that would not be their last encounter.

“Wow,” she breathed out, her legs jelly. “If I’d known guys like that were walking around, I might have made attempts to get out more often, a lot sooner...”

He certainly took Melinda’s mind off William, the vampire she could only have in her dreams. And she guessed motorcycle man to be close to her age; her brothers would be happy about that. Although they’d definitely have a problem with the motorcycle. Still, even with this second, chance run in, she might never see him again. Tourists came and went from the Isle as often as the tides.

The same doubts she’d felt earlier returned. Guys like that didn’t go out with girls like her. Guys like motorcycle man went out with stylish girls who wore high heels and skinny jeans.
Frumpy much?
she thought, staring down at her aged, ankle length dress and flat slip-ons.

She’d barely brushed her hair before leaving the house today and was sure it was a tangled mess. She hadn’t even tried to suck in her stomach to make it seem smaller. Surely he’d felt her little pooch sticking out. Too many curves in all the wrong places…

A breathy groan slipped through her lips. Melinda shook her head, wrung out her hands and headed home. Worked-up level on high alert, screaming towards
Oh my fucking God I’m about to lose my mind
, level.

Having a nervous breakdown that had kept her mostly indoors for four years, had not only cost her the loss of friends or any social life, and pinned her as the local freak, but left her with an outdated wardrobe, and kept her carrying around a few extra pounds she always wanted to lose, but was like, why bother?

She suddenly didn’t want to go home. The idea of being there felt suffocating. She needed to fix her life.
To get a life.

Starting with some skinny jeans. She could maybe pull them off.

Although perhaps she should just start with something less bag-like…

And heels, no fucking way in hell! They didn’t exactly go with her line of work. Quick getaways, high heels and Melinda Howard, simply did not mix!

CHAPTER NINE

Charlie, Michael and William looked around the bookstore at the mess the spirit, their mother, Catherine, had left behind.

“How is it
we
are always the one’s left cleaning up the messes, anyway?” Charlie asked. He responded to his own question by shrugging and puffing his cheeks, letting the air out slowly.

“I think,” advised William, “that this particular mess is better left to me. I can have everything back in its place in minutes. Why don’t you two head home. It’s been a very long day.”

They could not argue with William, and the truth was, he could have the place cleaned up much faster without their help. Therefore, they headed out to the jeep and drove home.

An hour later, Melinda walked into the house relieved to be home again. Not too long before, the thought had been suffocating, but now that she was here, it felt just right. She didn’t feel so nervous about leaving the house, but it had been a long day and she wanted nothing more than a glass of merlot, a box of chocolates and a few hours of fantasy time in a hot bubble bath.

But who would be the star in tonight’s fantasy session? Motorcycle man, or William?
Ugh… where is the wine? It might be a two-glass night…

Her frustration mounted as she met Charlie and Michael ignoring each other in the kitchen. She had hoped the day’s events had gotten them past their disagreements. “Did either of you fill in Mack about what you found out at the cave?”

“Already took care of it,” Michael replied. “Had to tell her to stop looking for the drybone’s killer.”

“You told her it was Mom?” Melinda confirmed.

“Yup. Mack was a little miffed I didn’t tell her before. But she understood.”

“She is cool that way.”

“I also told her about Dad. She is of course, willing to do just about anything to help us find him.”

Melinda nodded, just as a blur dashed into the room.

“Bookstore should be back to Emily’s satisfaction if not better.”

“Knowing you, My William, everything is absolutely perfect.”

William shot Melinda a severe stare, but their banter had at least lessened the tension between Charlie and Michael. It also set off her heart flutter again… William proceeded to move to the opposite side of the room.

“So Charlie, tell me about Eva Jordan,” Melinda teased, getting her mind off William. “Sounds like you saved a totally hot damsel in distress.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Charlie retorted. “Michael helped, too.”

“I may have been there, but she had eyes for you, Bro. Very beautiful eyes I might add.”

“Eva Jordan is attractive. I won’t disagree with that…”

“But…” Melinda said, waiting for the inevitable.

“We just found out our father is still alive, and where our mother’s body should be. It sort of takes priority over dating.”

“Oh, Charlie. For you, everything is a priority over dating,” Melinda chided.

“Look who’s talking,” Charlie good-naturedly mumbled.

She made a funny face, refusing to get into the discussion about her social life again.

“You might be right this time though,” she accepted begrudgingly.
Goodbye dear molasses eyed stranger… no time for boys…
her thoughts strayed. There would be only fantasizing and possibly more dreams… but no real life touching.

“Look, Melinda,” Charlie spoke, his tone sincere. “I need you to know that I… that we…” he looked at Michael, who nodded his agreement, “we may have had those thoughts of
what if
, and
if only
… but we never blamed you. Not once. Like Mom always said, what’s done, is done.”

“Don’t worry. I know that. I really do this time. And I’m done beating myself up about it,” she promised. “To be honest, after watching what Emily went through tonight, and how she helped us talk to Mom... and seeing the sacrifices you all make regularly, I realized that even though it might sometimes be a little scary, I help people, and I know that’s what Mom and Dad would want me to do.”

Charlie stepped forward and hugged her tightly, relieved. For the first time in four years he felt certain his sister had finally forgiven herself. Charlie caught William’s eye. He tossed him a tight smile, understanding his relief. There was a strained look in the vampire’s gaze. He wondered if it had anything to do with what their mother had told him.

Michael plunked down on a stool, deep in his own struggle. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as if not believing what he was about to say.

“I guess none of us can hold off the inevitable.” 

Melinda gasped, letting go of Charlie. “You’re not going to leave?” she could not help but squeal. 

“I can’t. Not now. Not with Dad out there, alive somewhere.”

Michael smirked at Charlie as if to say,
you got your wish
…

“One day, Michael,” Charlie told him. “I won’t let you be stuck here forever.” Charlie resigned to somehow making Michael’s wish come true.

Michael took a deep, even breath and turned to his next heavy task. He asked everyone to join him in William’s study.

“I’m going to need tissues,” Melinda sniffled tears already welling up in her eyes.

Charlie grabbed a box, but took out a few before handing it to her. “Figure I might need a few, too.”

“Might as well pass that box along,” Michael spoke, his voice wavering as he did. “I’m not sure I can get through it…”

“Just take your time, Michael,” William spoke tenderly. “We know how difficult this is for you.”

Michael then explained what he had seen when he had read Catherine Howard’s death and their father’s disappearance.

##

Eva Jordan walked into her summer home. “Dad,” she called out.

“In here,” he replied.

She followed his voice into the atrium at the back of their summer rental.

Anthony Jordan swiveled in his chair, turning away from a desk strewn with papers and books. He shared his daughter’s stark white hair, except for a few silver whiskers scattered across his chin, which only further accentuated the three-piece white suit he donned.

“I have excellent news,” Eva said, smugly. “I made contact.”

Her father slid off his glasses, smiling faintly in approval. “Faster than I expected,” his tone praised. 

“Nothing like saving a damsel in distress to move things along.”

“Did they suspect anything?”

“No. Not a fucking thing. In fact, the middle one, Michael, has an interest in meeting you. He likes your book.”

“Fascinating!” her father said, noticing the bandage on her leg. “What happened?”

“Part of the whole damsel in distress thing, nothing to worry about. I’m sure it’s already healed anyway.”

Her father looked at his daughter suspiciously.

“I said don’t worry didn’t I? I covered my bases. I told them you work miracles with healing creams and you’d have my leg healed up in no time.”

“Well it’s a good thing that’s actually true, in case they ever call me on it,” he spoke dryly.

“Believe me, we’re fine,” Eva insisted confidently.

“And the results of the smell test?”

“Charlie’s reaction was… well, let’s just say I could have wrapped him around my little finger. But it wasn’t nearly enough to send him over the edge and make him turn. You’ll have to inject me with a much higher dose if I’m going to get Charlie Howard to transform into a werewolf tomorrow night.”

“And here I thought we’d spend months on trial and error,” her father exclaimed ecstatically. He poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to his daughter. He raised his glass, tipping it toward her.

Eva tipped her glass back toward him and took her shot in one swallow, whereas her father just took a sip. She shuddered as the whiskey slipped down her throat, stinging at her insides. She licked her lips greedily, and poured another shot.

She left out the part where Charlie’s wolf had surfaced, and how it had turned her on. How she’d struggled to keep her wolf under control. If Charlie’s brother hadn’t been there, she might have just let go. Had a little fun. It would have been easy to let Charlie take her.

When he’d pressed his steel into her stomach… she shuddered at the memory, a jolt of fire forging its way from her chest down between her thighs.

Her father did not need to know that part.

And so what? It didn’t matter really.

Soon, Charlie Howard would belong to her anyway. It was just an added benefit that her wolf found him appetizing. So why not have a little fun on the side… Eva didn’t realize that as she spoke, her eyes had shifted from hazel to yellow. The color of her wolf.

“Make no mistake,” she uttered wickedly to her father. “Tomorrow night, that stray fucking pooch is all mine.”

##

Retelling the death reading of his mother had exhausted Michael Howard. It left him feeling empty, and yet overwhelmed. He pulled his jeep into Emily Morgan’s driveway. He’d done this a thousand times before, but tonight as he turned off the engine, his heart fluttered up to this throat, his nerves in overdrive.

It was getting late, but Emily sat on a bench on her front porch, a light hanging overhead, an open book in hand. She looked up, hearing his jeep pull in. The book plopped onto the bench and she skipped down to meet him.

“Hi, Michael. Dad just went to bed. You want to walk on the beach a bit?”

He didn’t speak his response. Instead, he grabbed her hand, pulled her in, and claimed her lips. For the first time.

Shock washed through her body and she tensed, but with every press of his lips, she relaxed, responding to his declaration. Her arms wrapped around his neck. His enclosed around her hips, nudging her closer.

When he released her a minute later, shock and disbelief swam in her eyes.

He had to catch his breath.

“My God, Em. I should have done that years ago.”

She only nodded slightly in bewildered agreement.

She’d hoped. Always hoped he’d come around. She’d never been in love with any other man.

“Emily, can you ever forgive me for being such an idiot?” He tugged at her lips again, not quite so gently. “When I thought something happened to you…” he didn’t finish, lost in the sweetness of her lips.

Emily had no words, but a tear formed in her eye, sliding down her cheek.

Michael kissed it away. “I love you Emily Morgan.” The words slipped off his tongue, leaving a trail of relief behind them. He’d finally said it. Finally admitted it. “I fell in love with you the first day we met. I am an
epic
asshole for never saying it until now.”

She sniffled in a throaty chuckle. “You wanted to leave the Isle.”

Still, trying to make everyone else happy.
He wanted her to get mad at him. Tell him what a complete dipshit he’d been. Instead, all that radiated from her was complete understanding and love.

Love for him.

“Emily, I strung you along, just expecting you to always be there, and you were…
are.
I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He picked her up and swung her around, leaning her against the side of his jeep. “I God damn love you so fucking much it kills me.”

Emily gasped a little, her back pressing into the jeep. The reality of what was happening finally kicking into her befuddled brain. “You’re not leaving the Isle…”

“No.”

“Because of what you found out, about your dad?”

“Yes, and no. It’s…” he shook his head in a tight fashion. “Something changed tonight. I don’t know how to explain it. It just suddenly feels right to be here. I don’t want it to feel right,” he admitted. “But it does. This is where I’m supposed to be. Partly because of my dad, partly because of you, partly because of who I am… I guess I’m just giving in. I’m not fighting what I’m supposed to be, or where I’m supposed to be anymore.”

Emily leaned in, for the first time taking what she wanted. His lips belonged to her now, and she wasn’t going to let them get away.

“I love you Michael Howard. I know you can already feel it, but I need to say it.” She tugged at his lips and he returned the favor. She tasted of peaches and cream. He wanted to kiss her cheek. Her chin. Her neck. Her chest. Every inch of her. Every dimple. Every hidden place he’d always wanted to explore.

His tongue charged into her mouth. She opened to him, sliding hers across his, tasting it. Curling around it. Nipping at it.

He wanted to take it slow, but his body betrayed him. He pressed into her, his hands squeezing at her hips. Now that he had a taste of her, he wanted all of her.

Something crashed inside the Morgan house. It sounded like glass breaking.

Michael and Emily broke apart, Emily’s head popping around him to see what had happened.

“Dad?” she called out.

She wiggled out of Michael’s grip and ran into the house. Michael followed, worried that Mr. Morgan had injured himself. He didn’t always get around so good and he’d fallen once before.