Kissing the Werewolf - An Izzy Cooper Novel (6 page)

A loud sigh escaped her lips.

Suddenly Granny looked tired.

A loud sigh pushed through her thin lips. “I think the Simmons bunch deserved their curse, perhaps not the whole town though.”

“That’s what I want to ask you about … the town curse. What exactly is the curse? Is there a way to break it?”

Granny chuckled. “We have more than one curse on our heads you know.”

“I think we might be dealing with the shaman’s curse. There were two homicides yesterday, and both the victims are descended from the founders.”

Nodding, she reached over and covered my hand with hers. “If I were the betting kind, I’d bet we are dealing with a whole lot more than the shaman’s curse.”

Now I was confused, not to mention a little uneasy. It would seem Granny had been keeping a lot of secrets.

“What haven’t you told me?” I asked, glaring at her through narrowed eyes.

“Oh put away the claws,” she scoffed. “You don’t scare me, little miss demon dreadful.”

It so wasn’t fair!

How could I be so close to being a demon, but I couldn’t even scare an old lady?

“So what is it?” I asked again.

“Well there’s the curse of old Captain Marsh.”

I shook my head. “That’s a ghost story, not a curse. Besides, I’ve never seen him.”

Leaning back in her chair, Granny gave me one of her, you’re not as smart as you think you are, smiles.

“He’s real enough, and he is tied to a curse. You see, the shaman’s curse was really just the beginning. The actual curse is a little different than the tales you hear these days. According to the story passed down through our family, the words the old man uttered just before his death … had quite a different meaning.”

Granny paused, as if by doing so she could add a little extra drama to the story. It worked. I was all ears and holding my breath.

Finally she continued. “That old Indian cursed us alright, but the curse was that when two hundred seasons passed, we would be revisited by all our sins.”

I was still lost and it must have shown on my face. Granny Stella burst out laughing.

“Don’t worry,” she said, patting my hand. “You’ll catch on sooner or later. Now if you hadn’t given up your power, you’d probably already know about this.”

And I’d be dead!

It wouldn’t do any good to remind her of that. She was sure that just because I was an Osborn witch, I could cheat death. Just as she was sure my mother could have done the same.

Instead of reminding her of my inability to come back from the dead, just because I was a witch, I let out a loud groan.

“Granny! Would quit blaming everything on the fallen angel situation? It hasn’t been that long since I lost my power, and I didn’t know anything about this then either.”

“Very well,” she frowned and waved her thin hand in the air, as if to wipe away my absurd excuses. “The curse was that our sins would come back to haunt us …
all
our sins. The moment the founding fathers cut the ribbon for Storm Cove, at the very spot where the old man died, they sealed the fate of the island,” she informed me.

I was still skeptical. “I’m not sure there is a connection. If it is the town curse, why has it already started? The Storm Cove Bicentennial isn’t until Saturday.”

Granny Stella shrugged. “Who’s to say? Maybe they don’t have the dates right, or perhaps the sins are seeping from the sacred ground that has held them all these years.”

“So what do we do?”

“First thing first, you have to find out who’s channeling the power. These things need a channel. Once you know who that is, you might be able to stop it.”

Okay then … so how the hell was I going to find the channel?

For the hundredth time since coming back from the dead, I had to wonder why I couldn’t just have a simple serial killer case to work, like a normal FBI agent?

Sighing, I reached over and hugged Granny Stella. “Well since it appears we are in for disaster this weekend, I guess I better get to work.”

“Are you going to the office today?” she asked.

“Don’t see as I have much choice,” I nodded. “Maybe it’s going to come down to some good old fashioned police work to figure this out.”

“Well Pumpkin Pie, if you don’t mind, will you tell your Uncle Aaron to stop by the market on his way home tonight? You know … that new twenty-four hour market. I can’t recall the name.”

“Happy All Hours,” I put in for her.

“That’s it!” Granny smiled. “Ask Aaron to pick up a gallon of milk and some bread … if you will?”

“Sure Granny.”

After giving her another hug, I got out of there before she decided to get into a discussion about my marital status, as in me still being unmarried. Not that I didn’t appreciate her concern, I just wasn’t as near worried about it as she was.

My experience with Jasper had put the fear into me, as in the fear of getting involved with some dog of a guy.

As far as I was concerned, being single was preferable to getting stuck with some jerk like Jasper.

Granny would say it was just because I was still angry, which wasn’t true at all. I preferred to use the word, extremely cautious. Anger really didn’t have much to do with it. If anything, I should be thanking that trollop wedding planner for saving me years of heartache and headaches, not to mention, her role in helping me get my new job.

Getting Granny’s message to Aaron would be easy, considering he worked at the top of the Shipwreck Point Lighthouse. Apparently the Historical Society thought it made more sense to put Uncle Aaron’s radio station at the top of the lighthouse, as apposed to the FBI.

I understood the bit about an FBI black cell being top secret, but still it rubbed me the wrong way. Being at work would be so much more pleasant, if we had Uncle Aaron’s view.

One day I’d get over it, and that day might even be today, considering I was huffing and puffing by the time I’d climbed the two dozen stairs to that part of the lighthouse commonly known as the lantern room.

I’d only climbed about half the stairs when I realized just how horrible it would be to have to subject myself to this kind of workout every time I came to work.

Maybe it was a good idea to let Uncle Aaron have his view.

The large wooden door that separated WRCK from the rest of the lighthouse was supposed to be closed at all times, but it wasn’t closed. It was standing open just a few inches, which was unusual.
Uncle Aaron always kept it closed on account of outside noise tended to interfere with his broadcasts.

I stood in front of the door, undecided.

Should I knock and risk adding a bit of my own noise pollution to his broadcast, or just barge in?

Shouldn’t there be some kind of music playing, like maybe
an old classic rock tune or some heavy metal?

There was no music at all. Of course that didn’t mean anything. Aaron frequently muted the music so it couldn’t be heard, except for on the radio.

There might not have been any music, but the room wasn’t completely silent either. I could hear the distinct sound of mumbling.

Uncle Aaron must be talking to himself again, or perhaps Muriel had decided to make her presence known to the Warlock of Shipwreck Point.

Deciding it would be less of a risk to barge in, and probably a lot more fun when I caught Aaron talking to himself, that’s exactly what I did.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my uncle wasn’t talking to himself. He was actually having a conversation with someone else, and that someone else was Elias. They were both standing near one of the huge windows that surrounded the lantern room.

As soon as those sexy - mysterious eyes fell on me, I felt about two inches tall, like I’d just been caught spying.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, nearly swallowing my tongue.

A smile touched Elias’s kissable lips and he gave me an abrupt nod. “No problem. I was on my way out.”

That’s when I noticed my heart beating a little faster, but I couldn’t’ be sure if it was because I’d just come face to face with the heartthrob of Mystique Island, or because he was leaving.

It took some effort, but I managed to make my tongue work. “Hello … and goodbye, I guess.”

Damn I was such a nerd!

Why couldn’t the words come to me as easily as they did Annabelle?

When my sister talked with a guy, she could pour it on as thick as honey, and still sound unbelievably awesome.

Not me. If there were a hot guy anywhere in the same vicinity as myself, I would put my foot in my mouth every time.

Before I could recover the slightest amount of cool, Elias was already gone.

Once his alpha highness was no longer pushing my hormones into overdrive, I became suspicious.

“What did Elias want?” I asked my uncle, who was at that very moment, staring at me like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

This was a stupid place to meet with Elias if he wanted to keep it secret. After all, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know my office was in the basement.

Uncle Aaron was weird, but he was the kind of weird you couldn’t help but love.

Aaron Osborn was stuck in 1987, and had no desire to catch up to the rest of us. He always dressed as if he were on his way to a 80s, hair metal concert.

At fifty years old, he still wore his hair long, with a mullet cut on top. He even wore eyeliner, which for some reason didn’t seem quite as morbid as it did when the medical examiner did it.

Maybe it was because Uncle Aaron’s hair was naturally dark, so he didn’t have to dye it. At least he hadn’t started dyeing it yet, but every time I saw him, I noticed a few more gray hairs. It might be only a matter of time before he turned to a box of quick fix.

“Well this is a surprise … but a pleasant one,” he added quickly.

It was then I noticed the spyglass in his hand.

“Um … what did Elias want?” I asked again. “And what were you guys looking at?”

It would have been easy, maybe even appropriate, for him to tell me it was none of my business, but one could always try. Actually, it was my job to be nosey.

Aaron’s meaty face twisted into a scowl. “Are you planning to bring me in for questioning? If not … I don’t think I have to tell you what we were doing.”

At this point I wasn’t sure if he was just being difficult, or really trying to hide something. Aaron had a major attitude about my FBI status, even more so than the rest of the town. It wasn’t completely out of the question that he was just being difficult for the sake of being difficult.

Placing one hand on my hip, I glared at him with my most evil - demon look. “What were you two up to?”

“Ah! You see!” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at me. “As soon as you put on that badge … the demon inside you takes over.”

Rolling my eyes, I put my other hand on my other hip, which was my way of letting him know that I meant business. “There is no demon inside of me. I’m a fallen angel, not a demon. Besides, I don’t actually wear my badge,” I clarified.

“No difference,” he said, shaking his head.

Now I was very familiar with Uncle Aaron’s tactics when it came to getting out of a mess, and deflecting was the one he used most frequently. If I didn’t guide the conversation back to Elias and the spyglass, we’d be arguing about demons until midnight.

It was time to throw out some threats. “I will take you in for questioning … if I have to. Just tell me what you were up to? Elias is on the short list of our serial killer suspects, you know.”

I didn’t bother adding the fact that our short list was
very short
. At this point, Elias was the only person on it.

When I thought about it that way, it felt kind of warped that I had a major crush on someone who was suspected of being a serial killer. Perhaps Annabelle was right. Maybe I did have terrible taste in men.

Sighing, Aaron held up his hand. “Hold your bloomers. I’m going on air in a few seconds.”

It would be just like my uncle to pull a fast one, like going on air just to keep from answering.

Plopping down in his chair, Aaron placed a pair of headphones on his head. When he was set to rock, he looked back at me and held up one finger, which meant, keep your mouth shut!

When Uncle Aaron was convinced that I wasn’t on the verge of jumping into a tirade, he proceeded to hit one of the many buttons situated on the equipment in front of him.

“Closing out that set was Rolls of Thunder by Red Lynx. If you are just joining me, this is Aaron the Rock Baron, bringing you four decades of the best in classic rock from WRCK at Shipwreck Point. Now to keep your heart pumping, here’s an old Metal tune for you.”

Aaron pressed some buttons and then sat back in his chair. Turning to me, he removed his headphones.

“Yes, I heard he was one of the suspects in yesterday’s mayhem,” he admitted.

“Well then, you must also know why I’m asking what you two were doing?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Aaron’s mouth morphed into a sheepish grin. “He just showed up here this morning and asked if he could use my spyglass to check something out.”

I didn’t have to ask how it was that Elias knew about the spyglass. Everyone in Storm Cove knew about Uncle Aaron’s spyglass. He’d discovered it washed up on the beach, not too far from the lighthouse.

In a town the size of Storm Cove, everyone knew your business, especially when you announced it on air.

After cleaning it up and restoring it, Aaron kept the spyglass at the station to look out on the sea. He claimed that with the spyglass, he could see a fogbank coming from miles away.

Maybe he could, but I suspected he also used it to spy on the town.

“Was he looking for fog?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from each word.

Throwing me a sour look, Aaron pointed toward the town. “He was looking at something on Eerie Lane … at least that’s the direction he was pointing the spyglass. Elias didn’t exactly tell me what it was he was searching for.”

Arching one brow, I asked, “And you didn’t think to question him?

“You stormed in here before I got a chance,” he scowled.

Suddenly I remembered why I was talking to my uncle in the first place. “Granny wanted me to ask if you’d go by the all night store on your way home? She needs you to pick up some bread and milk. And by the way,” I added, “When are you going to take care of the yard up there?”

“Why didn’t she just call me?” he asked, ignoring my question about the yard work, which was pretty much normal for Aaron.

“You know Granny and gadgets. They are her biggest enemy, as far as she’s concerned.”

That’s when it dawned on me that Granny could be playing matchmaker. It was possible that she’d had some inkling Elias would be at the radio station, and that’s why she’d sent me up here. Never mind that the guy she was trying to set me up with was a werewolf, and a possible serial killer.

I loved Granny Stella with all my heart, but she could be a real pain in the rear end at times.

Going down the spiraling staircase was so much easier than climbing it, and would have been even easier with some real light, and not just dim emergency lights, placed in random locations.

I had no choice but to blame the lack of adequate lighting for what happened next. If I were to blame my lack of foresight, I might have to face the fact that I could be losing my psychic power, or at the very least, I wasn’t paying attention to it again. I just hoped Mister Grim wasn’t paying attention either.

One minute I was staring down at my feet, trying to see where I was stepping. A wrong step could mean a broken neck, and that could be a disaster.

If I were to die again, Mister Grim might decide I was too accident prone to manage redemption, and just mark me down as a lost cause. After all, one had to stay alive long enough to earn salvation.

So out of nowhere, I step on a pair of ghostly white shoes, which happened to be attached to a set of ghostly feet.

The scream happened before I could help it, and so did the fall. By the time I stopped tumbling, I had nearly made it to the bottom of the stairs. My head was throbbing, and there was an annoying ringing in my ears.

Muriel was hovering above me, her ghostly eyes wide with fright. “You okay? Do you need a doctor?”

Probably, but who had time for a doctor? I had to catch a killer and earn some redemption points.

That was too much to say, and I wasn’t in the mood, so I just shook my head.

“What happened down there?” Aaron called from the top of the stairs.

“I’m okay … I just tripped!” I yelled. Though I put as much power in my voice as I could muster, it still sounded extremely weak.

“Need some help?” he asked.

“No, I’m good.” It was a lie, but no way was I going to admit that I was nearly scared to death by a ghost, and not just any ghost, but a friendly ghost.

Maybe Aunt Mandy was right about the friendly ghost thing?

Muriel gave me a sheepish grin. “I’d help you but …”

“I know,” I mumbled, as I was struggling to my feet.

“Sorry. I thought you saw me following you and were just ignoring me, so I jumped in front of you,” she explained.

I had a ghost following me and hadn’t noticed?

What had I been thinking about just before falling?

The lighting sucked … and that I should go question Elias myself! That was it.

This definitely had to stop. I was so caught up in Elias, just thinking about him could turn everything else off?

Damn him anyway!

When I could stand without the room spinning, I proceeded to brush the dust off the backside of my jeans. “Did you need something Muriel?”

“I saw Captain Marsh again last night.”

“You nearly killed me to tell me that?” Now I was annoyed.

Why was it everyone was so nervous about Captain Marsh? Even if the stories were true, he was just another murder victim ghost that got off on haunting people. The situation wasn’t all that unusual.

“Sorry,” Muriel shrugged. “I just thought you’d like to know. Did you find out anything about him?”