Charmed Witches: We Witches Three Seasons, #1

WE WITCHES THREE PART 1: ISLE OF BONES

Includes mild language and behind closed doors adult situations.

Melinda Howard poured a potion into a small glass vial. She used a funnel, not trusting her unsteady fingers. It was her first time making this particular potion and if the results were anything less than perfect, the consequences would be fatal to the vampire standing in her kitchen.

He was across the room. A good fifteen feet away. But she’d swear he was hovering just inches behind her, watching her every move. Movements that suddenly became heavy and awkward.

Pay attention! She chastised herself silently. Keep it together, you’re almost done.

She exhaled, letting out a surge of flustered breath, shuddering as an electrified pulse fired down her spine at the thought of him watching her. Her heart quickened, fingers quivering as she removed the funnel, the vial nearly filled. Just one final step to complete the potion. She shoved her chin-length chestnut bangs behind her ear, grabbing an already filled dropper and added the contents within to the vial.

The mixture sizzled, a small plume of steam erupting from the vial before the clear liquid inside turned to deep red. Melinda smiled, relieved by the outcome. She let the buildup of nervousness escape with her next breath, corked the vial, turned, and tossed it to the vampire.

It went high, threatening to fly over his head and crash into a wall. He deftly jumped into the air, caught it, and landed without a sound. 

Good catch, William, Melinda said, winking playfully.

The vampire silently scolded Melinda with a stern gaze before drinking the contents of the vial.

Like you’d miss, she responded as innocently as possible while averting her gaze, unable to linger in his for long.

I never miss, William replied matter-of-factly. The vampire straightened his black pullover, the dark color only further accentuating the paleness of his neck and face.  

Did it work? Melinda asked, venturing a fleeting look in his direction.

It tastes correct. He paused, savoring the warm sensation the potion gave him as it forced its way through his veins like the blood that no longer willingly pumped its way through his body. I do believe you did perfect, Melinda. Well done.

She curtsied, nodding in appreciation to her one vampire audience, hurriedly turning away again to avoid making eye contact.

His eyes narrowed in a questioning manner. Are you okay this morning?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He noticed. I so suck at acting. Um, yes, she answered too hesitantly. She cleared her throat. I’m fine. Why do you ask?

You seem on edge.

On edge? Really? You have no idea, her thoughts exclaimed loudly. She wished she could tell him the truth- that her edginess was completely his fault.

Melinda had dreamt about William the night before. A dream that while in the middle of, painted her the image of a goddess adored by a vampire. But once awakened from, left her restless with skin far too tight, and achy. And now, normal daily actions she’d never given a second thought to turned clunky and awkward, sitting at the forefront of her thoughts while in William’s presence.

Was he watching her, right now? What did she look like through his eyes?

She’d had a crush on him for years, but she’d never dreamt of him, not like this.

There it is again, the vampire noted, disrupting her wandering mind. I’ve never heard your heart flutter like that before. Are you ill? He stepped closer, concerned.

Stupid super vampire hearing! Melinda held her breath for a second, blood racing to keep up with her stammering heart. I’m fine. Promise. I was just nervous about making the potion, and was recalling my dream from last night. This was a partial truth. There had been a second dream. A much less pleasant dream, one she had shared with him. Her skin flushed and gaze lowered.

Very well, he conceded with a narrow stare. She was holding back on him, something she never did until recently. What had changed? What was she hiding? Why did she not feel at ease enough to confide in him, as always?

Melinda refused eye contact, keeping herself busy and her gaze downward. And if she chewed her bottom lip any harder she might draw blood... she shivered, though it was a warm summer day. That flutter returned, blood rushing through her veins in an attempt to keep up with her erratically beating heart. It got stronger the longer his eyes lingered on her movements.

What was she hiding from him?

He cast his gaze across the room looking at nothing in particular, focusing on the pulse of her blood, a sound he was familiar with. This flutter though... it was... different. Strangely enticing. Although he could not ascertain why. Somehow, each flutter called out to him, almost reaching out across the room to him, jolting him with electric sparks of... of what? And why did it matter?

Because all things Melinda Howard mattered. That’s why. And if she was ill, he needed to know. His ears tuned into her heart, his eyes closing, his mind sinking into each beat. Each pulse of blood.

Unconsciously, he licked his fangs.

What would she taste like?

He sucked in, eyes opening in disgust. A scowl etching his face.

This reaction displeased him immensely. It was not normal, appropriate, or acceptable behavior. Not for him.

It was too bad he needed to have a blood-empty stomach before drinking the potion. He’d have to wait thirty minutes before partaking of his typical breakfast of warmed, week-old animal blood. It hardly sounded appetizing compared to the lovely blood-filled creature standing just out of reach...

William, he barely heard Melinda call out. Would you put this away for me? I can’t reach. She outstretched her arm, holding a jar filled with herbs. She lifted her head when he did not reply, the jar slipping through fingers suddenly unable to maintain their grip.

William caught the jar with ease and spun around to put it away, too late to hide his mistake. He might have controlled his fangs and kept his distance, but his eyes had turned a ravenous black.

Normally, being around humans was tolerable. He’d had hundreds of years of practice. This morning, however, was particularly difficult. Melinda’s blood had always smelled appealing. But this morning it was practically calling out to him. Please drink me. I belong only to you.  

His hungry black eyes were something Melinda had witnessed before. She didn’t understand why it startled her so badly this time. Perhaps it was that she’d never been alone with him before when it had happened. She’d never had steamy dreams about him before, either.

Embarrassed by her reaction, she grabbed a few potion supplies and busied herself putting them away. She took a glance and noticed William’s typical emerald greens had replaced the greedy black.

Man, I love his eyes. She let out an exasperated breath, wishing she could just forget every detail of last night’s William dream. It would never come true anyway.

William was a vampire. She was a human. A witch, but still human. And William had a strict no-dating-humans policy.

As she cleaned up the potion-making mess, a young man entered the kitchen, at the same time running his gel covered hands through his spiky hair. He quickly regretted that choice thinking instead that he needed to plug his nose.  Potion time again, he realized, rinsing his fingers off in the sink.

Good morning, Michael, said the vampire to the young man, who was Melinda’s twenty-three-year-old brother. The taste is as loathsome as the smell. William made a face that said, be glad you’re not the one drinking it.

Michael was about to reply when a voice startled them from the hallway, behind them. Good thing the potion’s worth the price, then.

Charlie! Melinda raced past Michael and jumped into her eldest brother’s flannel covered arms.

Charlie twirled his sister in a circle, hugging her fiercely. He was not just older than her and Michael, but much larger, too. A broad shouldered, rugged man of twenty-six.

Hiya, Kiddo.

God, you reek! she choked out sarcastically. More so than the potion, and that’s not an easy feat!

That’s what happens when you take a three day fishing trip, Charlie said, letting her slide back down to the floor. I had to come home before the full moon. His words really meaning, if it wasn’t rising soon, I’d still be gone.

Yeah, of course you would. It’s just nice to have you back in the house again. 

Which just proves my point that you’re still not getting out enough, Sis.

Don’t start with me again about that! I’m getting out plenty. Remember that date I went on, like, a month ago, her voice trailed as she recalled the date had actually been over two months previous.

My point exactly. Charlie poked her side, affectionately.  

Melinda had tried to forget that last date. It ended badly. Not that it had started all that great. But she’d given in and gone home with him. He’d proceeded to call her something along the lines of adorable. She was pretty sure when he said adorable, he meant chubby. Which she wasn’t. Not really.

Yeah, she’d eaten too much during their date, but that was mostly because he never shut the heck up and gave her a chance to speak. So yes, her pooch was a little bigger than it might have been normally. But it was the way he’d spoken his goodbye. Like he’d done her some charitable favor by going out with her.

She’d left that part out when telling her brothers how the date went. The guy was a total Jerkface. Her evening had been empty. Meaningless. And a complete waste of time.

But he’d gotten what he wanted.

Of course, if her brothers or William had found out how Jerkface had treated her, they’d probably have killed the guy. Or at the very least, injured him severely.

Charlie grabbed a mug of coffee and nodded toward his brother Michael, who refused to return the gesture. Charlie had hoped to avoid another argument so soon after arriving home.

As it turned out, Michael didn’t feel like arguing either. Meeting Emily for coffee, he explained, promptly leaving. 

Charlie shook his head, disappointed.

Give him time, the vampire advised kindly. 

Why does he have to be so darn stubborn?

Melinda snorted. Um, gee. Maybe because he’s a Howard.

Exactly. He is a Howard, and like it or not we have a responsibility to uphold.

Michael gets that, Charlie, Melinda cut him off before his rant continued. "He’s just not as accepting of his fate as we are, she added dramatically. He sort of has a point though. I mean, why should he be forced to spend his life protecting the Isle, just because he’s a Howard?"

We don’t get to make that choice, Melinda. Charlie stated it with finality. He glanced at the vampire, searching for approval, but William’s face showed no sign of his true feelings on the matter. Charlie had not thought it possible, but the vampire appeared distracted. When William didn’t answer he changed the subject.

Thanks for making the potion for me, Sis. I left for my trip so fast I completely forgot about it.

No worries. You’ve had a lot on your mind. Besides, I’d do just about anything for My William. She decided the best way to move past last night’s dream was to treat William as she always did.

The vampire breathed out testily. Melinda, you must stop calling me that. It is not right. Not only am I nearly four hundred years old, but until quite recently I was your legal guardian. Must I keep reminding you of this?

William, she retorted innocently. "I’m twenty-one and you’re the only man I can flirt with in this testosterone filled house. Besides, you make it so easy. Have you looked at yourself lately? That’s right, you can’t. So I must take it upon myself to remind you how handsome a vampire you are."

Yes, she thought. Ridiculously handsome. No, he was beyond handsome now, especially after last night. He’d gone straight from handsome vampire she had a crush on to forbidden fanged hotty in a matter of a single dream. She tapped her fingers on the counter as if this movement would somehow drown out the racing heartbeats thudding against her chest.

Apparently, forgetting about the dream was not going to be easy.  

And the truth was, William did have a reflection. But it wasn’t one his own eyes could see. A side effect of the potion he’d just downed. It made looking into glass difficult. Things had a fuzzy appearance. One bad side effect that was worth the freedom the potion gave him.

William noted the change in her heart rhythms again but ignored it, tossing Charlie a look that pleaded for his agreement in the matter of her affections.

Maybe, Melinda, you would be better off saving your attention for someone your own age, Charlie said, backing up the vampire. And not to bring it back up again, but perhaps if you got out of the house more often...

Charlie, you’ve scared off all the guys I’ve dated! Except for Jerkface, which she’d done herself apparently, by just being her. And there had only been two other guys she’d dated before him. Three whole guys, twenty-one years old. So beyond pathetic. Melinda tensed. She had chosen Jerkface, to give herself to. She was never going to forgive herself for that choice. But she hadn’t wanted to carry the label virgin anymore.

How stupid that label seemed now. She still felt like a virgin. At least she hadn’t told Jerkface he was her first, not that the fact redeemed her decision at all.

She put her stubborn gaze back on. Charlie, between you, Michael, and William drilling my dates with questions no normal human would comprehend, it’s no wonder they never call back for second dates. She lashed out, preferring to believe it was them and not her, driving them away. But how could it not be her? She just wasn’t date material. Or perhaps the other two had just wanted what she’d given Jerkface, and when she didn’t...

Dating sucks.

But she’d blame it on her brothers, just the same.

Charlie patted her shoulder. I’m just looking out for you, Kiddo.

Well, you can’t have it both ways, she argued hotly. If I leave the house and start dating more, you have to accept the guys I go out with. No more scaring them away.

Okay. You’re right. Why don’t you go out now? I can clean up this mess.

Melinda shook her head, a hesitant tingle creeping into her gut. Talking about leaving was easy, but actually leaving the house was a much scarier thought. And going on another date with another guy she didn’t know, just a bad idea.

I made the mess, I’ll clean it up. Besides, it’s sort of a badge of honor, first time making the potion for My William and all. I just hope I got it right. 

Charlie threw her a look that said, you’re making excuses, but let it slide as William dramatically rushed to the front kitchen window. He tore off his pullover revealing his chiseled bare chest and flung open the curtains, the bright morning sunlight flooding the room, exposing him to potentially fatal rays.  

Both Melinda and Charlie stood wide-eyed, waiting to smell smoke or see flames erupt. Instead, William’s mouth turned into the slightest of smiles.

You nearly gave me a heart attack! Melinda shouted. What if the potion hadn’t worked?

There is only one way to find out if the potion did work. 

But you could have tested it on a finger, not your entire body! she protested.

I have complete faith in you, Melinda. William pulled his shirt back over his head.

She made a face, knowing he was just trying to prove a point, by agreeing with Charlie. She was a bright, beautiful, and talented young woman that needed to find a life outside of the Howard Mansion. But they were the only ones who had such thoughts.

William had just been standing in the kitchen, shirtless. And she’d been too stunned by his attempt at burning himself that she hadn’t even enjoyed his magnificently chiseled perfection. She shivered at the thought of reaching out and touching that cold skin.

Did it just get hotter in here? Did the air just get sucked out of the room?

Why did William have to be an off-limit vampire?

Physically, he was the epitome of perfection, at least in her eyes. Tall. On the thin side but not wiry. A first glance wouldn’t tell you instantly that he was stronger than any human man. That awareness came from the confidence he exuded in every movement he made. The draw of his gaze, the pull of his smile, the very manner in which he carried himself just strutting down the sidewalk. All things, which depending on his mood, either blanketed you in complete security, or emitted predatory threats that warned, I wouldn’t walk down any dark alleys alone if I were you.

More than all that, Melinda knew him. Trusted him. Heck, he was her best friend. Her confidant. Why couldn’t real life be as easy and exciting as her dream life?

Melinda kept up her stubborn front. You haven’t tested the potion completely, William. It’s the other function that’s the really tricky part.

I will be out taking a stroll if you need me, the vampire responded tersely.

Melinda spoke quite seriously as he departed. If anyone suddenly realizes you’re a vampire that has lived in this town for over a hundred years and hasn’t aged, come home at once and I’ll try again. 

Getting the potion just right was usually Charlie’s job as he was the most practiced at making potions out of the three siblings. But after a heated argument with his brother, Michael, he had abruptly left for a fishing trip and had forgotten to make William’s masking potion. They always kept an emergency vial of it, just in case, but Melinda had wanted to try her hand at making it instead. 

As long as made correctly, and taken every three months, the masking potion allowed William not only to walk in the daylight, but allowed him to live freely, leading an almost normal life.

The potion kept people in the town from realizing he did not age. They just knew him as William Wakefield, longtime friend to the Howard family; one of The Demon Isles founding families.

In addition, four years previously, William had temporarily become guardian of the three siblings after their parents had mysteriously disappeared during a hunting trip into White Pines National Park. A place frequented by many tourists on the Isle. Not that they needed a guardian seeing as Charlie was twenty-two at the time. But the siblings had needed William, and he had been their parent’s longest and most trusted friend.

Some locals believed that their parents had befallen some terrible accident, the type usually associated with careless tourists that refused to heed repeated warnings. Like how one misstep on the rocky cliffs might send you plunging to your death, or how fast you could find yourself in trouble when the tide came in and suddenly you’re stuck on the one rock that’s just barely sticking out of the water, or worse, in a cave that now has no exit.

However, a handful of locals were aware of the truth: that hunting meant their parents were searching for The Demon Isle’s magical power source. A source that to this day, had yet to be located; even by the many generations of Howards to have come and gone from the Isle. All the siblings were certain of, is that the search had claimed the lives of their parents, just as it had claimed the lives of numerous Howard Witches before them.

But it was this very power source that the Howard siblings also defended, often putting their own lives on the line to protect. It was what their family had always done: protect the source from being discovered and falling into the wrong hands.

Of equal importance were the incessant attempts by various supernatural beings that came to the Isle in hopes of drawing on that power. Or overthrowing the Howards and claiming the Isle for themselves, therefore putting the locals and the tourists in constant danger.

Dangers that newer locals opted to ignore or pass off as strange, but somehow explainable, events. Many, of course, chose to exploit the Isle’s mystical draw, now making it a top vacation spot for fans of the supernatural and paranormal. This only complicated the lives of the siblings as these fans often got more trouble than they bargained for.

Charlie offered again to help clean up the kitchen. 

I can handle it, Melinda said. You should get unpacked, maybe take a shower. She wrinkled her nose at his fishy stench.

I should have been here to help you. His voice held guilt as he grabbed half-filled vials and dried herbs, returning them to their cupboards. Melinda didn’t argue, she enjoyed her brother’s company.

For your knowledge, she explained after a bit, I did get out while you were away. I went on a patrol with William.

That’s not getting out, her brother argued.

Is too.

We patrol at night. And patrolling is work.

Yes, but there’s sometimes still people around.

Work is not a life, Melinda. You need friends. You need to get out and have fun. What about the friends you used to go to school with? Charlie asked. That guy you went out with a few months ago?

Jerkface, or possibly the guy before Jerkface. They’ve all moved away, gone to college, she claimed quickly. And what’s wrong with hanging out with my brothers? Or William? And there’s Emily.

Charlie snorted. When she comes to the house to see Michael. I don’t want to push you, Melinda, but like you said earlier, you’re twenty-one. You should be out on the beach, partying, going on dates, and getting into trouble. He thought about that for a minute. Okay, make that partying lightly but you get what I mean.

I’m trying, Charlie.

I know, Kiddo. He saw the uneasiness in her eyes. Just keep taking little steps and even though we give you a hard time, screw us! Just go have some fun. 

Yeah, okay. Fun. It’s my top priority, she voiced, with fake enthusiasm.

Charlie didn’t push it further.

Michael got out of the house as fast as possible, making his way toward the café he was sure Emily would be exiting at any minute. She always stopped for coffee and a crème horn on her way to work.

He heard the ding of a door opening and out she stepped. It calmed him immediately, bettering his mood, as Emily emitted brightness and happiness.

Michael, she called out upon seeing him. What are you up to this morning? Her southern drawl was muffled by the swallowing of coffee.

He caught up with her. Hi, Em. Thought I’d walk you to work.

That’s so sweet of you. She grinned widely. A grin that shot warmth into his core. She’d done that to him since the day they’d met, just under five years before.

She reached up and tousled his newly cut hair. Not one hair moved against her touch. Each firmly in its place, almost as if Michael had ordered each hair to its position with the threat of punishment if they disobeyed. She chuckled, but told him, "I like it. It’s very you."

You think? The stylist almost talked me out of it. She kept running her fingers through my hair, trying to change my mind.

That’s just because she thinks you’re hot. So did every woman on the Isle. Including far too many tourists. It was hard to rise to the top of the competition for Michael’s affections.

She did keep me in that chair for a ridiculous amount of time, he noted.

Face it, if they’re single and from the Isle, make that any woman alive that’s stepped foot on the Isle, they’re in love with you.

He wanted to blurt out if that included her as well, but bit his tongue. He didn’t need to ask that question. Her answer screamed at him silently. I’ve always loved you.

It suits you well, Emily said of his new hairstyle. Truth be told, the shoulder length locks weren’t right for you. And this style makes that baby face you tote around completely irresistible. Kissable, was what she was really thinking.

He blushed a little. Always did when she flirted with him. He would have liked nothing more than to take hold of her hand and walk her to work, to kiss those peach colored lips until they were swollen.

But he did not.  

It was definitely time for something new, he told her.

Well, no girl can resist that face, no matter what your hair looks like. She played down her flirting. She might have found his face kissable, but she’d never dared. So what do you have lined up tonight, two dates? Three? One right after the other.

Ha. Very funny. He rolled his eyes as they walked to her store. Had three dates in one night, one time, almost a year ago and you’re never going to let me live it down, are you? God! That night ended so badly.

Emily laughed. Good thing I was around to come to your rescue. I guess it’s my job to remind you and keep you out of trouble. She winked, toying with him.  

She really wished it was her job.

He really wished it was, too.

Actually, I haven’t been on a date in weeks, he admitted.

You? Michael Howard, dateless?

He chuckled. Just haven’t been in the mood.

Charlie, still? she questioned knowingly.

He shrugged.

You’re still arguing I take it.

Yeah. He sighed. "Charlie got back this morning and I don’t want to be in the same room as him. Don’t want to talk to him. Don’t want to hear his nagging voice all condescending because I’m not as into this lifestyle as he is. My brother Charlie. Talk about Mr. Perfect-can-do-no-wrong in the eyes of anyone. Everything he says just irritates the crap out of me right now. But hey, enough of me complaining for one morning. I enrolled in classes," he announced, ending his tirade and starting a new subject.

Really? That’s great, Michael. She stumbled across the words a little, the revelation catching her off guard. She tried to sound excited and upbeat, but Michael knew she was disappointed by this news. Her smile never faded, but he sensed it, the brightness lessened. Her eyes dancing just a little less.

Emily realized she’d given herself away and tore her gaze off him, her cheeks fiery with embarrassment.

Michael hated hurting her. It’s not for a while yet. Summer’s just started really. Fall’s still a ways away.

I’m really happy for you, she told him. She meant it. She didn’t want to see him leave the Isle, but she wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. And he wasn’t.

Thanks, Em. So, um, have you ever thought about going back to college?

You know I can’t, Michael. I left because Dad needs me here. And he’s stubborn about moving anywhere else. I really don’t know why that is, but...

Sorry. It was dumb of me to even bring it up. They were at her bookstore. I guess I’ll see you later, Em.

Idiot. That’s what I am. Hurting people. Disappointing people. These were things he excelled in. By not living up to people’s expectations of him. Expectations he didn’t want to live up to. And never asked for.

Later, Michael.

Yeah, bye. Have a good day at work.

Thanks. See ya. She tossed him another wide smile and gave her lips a timid pull with her teeth. Lips he’d very much like to kiss. Instead, he fled.

She always made him feel bad for wanting to leave the Isle. Not on purpose, and she never once vocalized it. But he saw it in her eyes. Felt the cut of it in the things she did not say. Her reactions to him. What scared him most, was that if there was one thing, one person, who could get him to stay on the Isle, it would be Emily Morgan.

But she would never ask him to stay. Never in a hundred years if she thought it would make him unhappy. She liked to make people happy, thrived on it, almost to a fault. Heck, she lit up the darkest room just by entering it. Everyone loved Emily. He more so than anyone. Brakes squealed in his brain. He could not afford to think like that.

He forced the thought out of his mind. He’d never found the courage to come out and ask her. If she said yes, she did want him to stay, he’d never be able to leave. And he needed to leave. To get off this lame, stuck-in-the-last-century island before he got sucked in so deep that he never left. Never explored the world. Like every other Howard that had come before him.

He didn’t want that fate. He didn’t ask for it.

Didn’t he get a say in his life, at all?

He looked up to see William not too far ahead, heading into the mansion. Potion worked, he noted. Good job, Melinda.

He was going to have to go home and face Charlie. Face whatever this day brought him. Regardless, he was proud of his sister, she was getting better every day. Her panic attacks were less frequent. Slowly, she was immersing herself back into the outside world.

Mainly, what this really meant was he didn’t need to stay on the Isle. They’d be fine without him.

William reappeared in the kitchen of the Howard Mansion with Michael just behind.

All went well? Melinda asked the vampire.

"Yes. As expected, no one realizes I am not a thirty-one-year-old man."

Melinda nodded satisfactorily and turned to Michael. You’re back sooner than I expected.

It was just a quick walk with Emily to work at the bookstore.

Charlie’s eyes lit up. I have been meaning to congratulate her on taking over the place, he admitted, apologetically. Once Renee retired a few months ago, Emily was the perfect replacement.

Yes. She is, was all Michael acknowledged to Charlie’s attempt to engage him in conversation.

And how did she like your new haircut? Melinda inquired.

What’s not to like?

Oh get over yourself! she shot back in amusement.

Although brothers, Charlie and Michael didn’t share many common traits.

Michael was wiry, yet athletic, with smooth, slightly flushed skin. He never had to shave. He was also slower than Melinda when it came to getting ready in the morning, even though his outfits consisted mostly of jeans, sandals and some kind of pullover shirt. However, the hours spent getting every strand of hair on his head into its perfect place were too many to count.

Charlie, on the other hand, had enough hair for two men. His dusty brown locks were thick and disheveled, falling just above his shoulders, and his facial hair grew fast enough that he could shave twice in one day. More often than not, he had a couple days’ growth on his face. He found most shirts constricting, being that he had shoulders and muscles like a football player, and preferred on nice days to wear tank tops and khaki shorts. When the weather cooled, he simply added a flannel shirt, always with the sleeves rolled up carelessly. 

The only similar traits they did share: dazzling blue eyes and a killer smile that knocked any girl’s socks off. Both things inherited from their father, Jack Howard.

The kitchen phone rang loudly.

That would be the Mack line, Charlie stated, grabbing the phone, grateful for the distraction. Have I even been home a full hour yet? he asked no one in particular.

Oh, I need to talk to Mack before you hang up, okay? Melinda blurted out.

Charlie nodded that he’d heard her, while speaking into the phone, Hello, Mack! How can we help the sheriff of The Demon Isle this morning?

Oh good, you’re home, Charlie. Hope the fishin’ trip went well. She gave him no chance to reply. I’m actually calling for your brother. Afraid I need a death readin’.

Just say where and I’ll send Michael right over.

Michael sighed, relieved at the sound of his name.  Any excuse to get out of here, he grumbled under his breath. Even if it is work.

The morgue,