Chapter 6 #2
I thought about Bettina’s neighbor, Mrs. Baker. She knew about Darkaway. She’d mentioned honeymooning here, which meant…she had to be a supernatural creature too.
I reeled with that revelation because I’d spent a fair amount of time with her. Was she a witch? A shifter? A vampire? And what about her cowboy boyfriend? He’d mentioned visiting the island too.
Although I didn’t have all the answers, a few more pieces of this strange puzzle were beginning to fall into place.
“I hope we haven’t scared you more,” Sister Elenor murmured. “It really is lovely here.”
“Are there other humans on the island besides you?” I asked, more curious than anything. I had no plans to stay. None. The next ferry left in less than an hour now, so I wouldn’t be here for much longer—but still, I was curious. “Being a supernatural isn’t a requirement?”
“Goodness, no,” Sister Elenor assured me, spreading her hands wide.
“There are loads of us mere mortals here. The owners of the Midnight Cinemas, Marty and Celeste, are humans. Then there’s Susan, a local glass artist who runs Arnie’s Art Supply after her father, Arnie, ran off with a cat-shifter from Reno.
Phyllis and Esmerelda own Immortal You Yoga, but don’t tell Esmerelda I told you she’s human.
She moved here, hoping the island would awaken some hidden powers, but she’s as human as they come.
Then there’s Bob and…” She continued to rattle off a dozen or more names. “Ugh. Who am I forgetting?”
Sister Mary-Francis stirred uncomfortably in her chair. “The…um…people who work in the crimson clubs. Can’t forget them.”
“Crimson clubs?” I asked cautiously, my gaze darting between the Sisters.
“Clubs where vampires go to feed on live human hosts,” Sister Elenor explained.
“They can’t do that back home, of course, so it’s something they…
uh…look forward to when they come here. The atmosphere is a bit salacious, but it’s very popular with the vampire tourists.
” At the horrified look on my face, she quickly added, “Don’t worry.
The blood hosts aren’t recruited against their will, turned into vampires, or killed.
From what I understand, it pays quite well. ”
Aware that my hands were cupping my neck, I forced myself to lower them. “So…it’s not…dangerous here?” I asked, thinking about the dire wolves in the ferry line.
Sister Mary-Francis shook her head. “No more than in any other small town. Supernatural-on-human crime is not tolerated by the sheriff. Perpetrators are sent to Rocky Reach, a jail on one of the small atolls just off the coast. I’m involved in the prison ministry, so believe me when I tell you, it’s not a walk through the tulips. ”
“Although you’ll want to stay away from Wickedville,” Sister Elenor cautioned.
I didn’t need a warning to stay away, because I was counting the minutes until I could leave. But I couldn’t help asking. “Wickedville?”
Sister Mary-Francis nodded. “It’s a sketchy part of town that attracts miscreants.”
I considered all of this for a moment then frowned. “With humans coming and going, how does the existence of Darkaway Island and its supernatural inhabitants remain a secret?”
“The island is charmed, of course.” From beneath her athletic jacket, Sister Elenor pulled out a gorgeous pendant, a milky green stone in a filigreed setting.
“It’s made from moonstone sourced here on the island.
When a human leaves the island and passes through the mist, if she’s not wearing one of these personally charmed memory stones, she forgets everything about her time here. ”
I nodded slowly and dunked the last piece of the peanut butter cookie into my latte, contemplating every far-fetched thing they’d told me. However, since they were nuns, they had a lot of credibility.
What awaited me if I went back right now?
I thought about Pharma-Douche, who wanted me dead.
I could continue to hide out at Bettina’s place, sure, but I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere.
Or do anything that didn’t involve a computer and good wi-fi.
George and I would be stuck inside, ordering takeout and watching Netflix.
Even though there were monsters here on Darkaway Island, at least they didn’t want to kill me.
I stared out the window at the brilliant blue sky. Dozens of colorful kites swayed in the tropical sea breeze like waving, beckoning sentinels.
Welcome, Daphne.
Between the one-story buildings on the other side of the road, I caught a glimpse of the white sandy beach beyond them.
Come play, Daphne.
Back home, it was much colder than this and possibly raining.
Things were strange here, yes, but if I were honest, it didn’t feel dangerous.
Whether I left now or stayed till the end of my vacation, I’d be none the wiser about the existence of supernatural creatures when I got home. But if I stuck it out here, I’d be safe from Pharma-Douche, more relaxed, and probably somewhat tanner.
I thought about Sister Elenor’s comment about everyone being so delightful. The Sisters certainly were. So were Portia from the ferry and her cute son, Austin. And the vampire doctor with a good sense of humor.
Then there was Travis, of course, with his wolfish yellow eyes. But I wouldn’t exactly call him delightful. No, that didn’t quite describe him. More like dangerously hot, to be exact. And very much engaged.
After a bit more soul-searching and one more latte, I made my decision.
I was staying.
I checked into the hotel a short time later and took a long, luxurious bath with one of the bath bombs I’d had the foresight to pack. As I soaked in the swirling orange and pink water, the stress and tension from the Craziest Day Ever slipped away.
Had Scully and Mulder made any headway in the case? Except for the strange book that I’d tucked into the bottom of my bag, my life back there seemed like a world away.
When I was sufficiently pruned-up, I wrapped myself in a thick hotel robe and left the well-appointed bathroom with its clawfoot tub and waterfall-like faucets.
I grabbed a piece of cheese from the tray of food that had been waiting in my room upon my arrival and strode into the large bedroom.
A cool ocean breeze stirred the gauzy curtains framing the French doors to the small patio.
Paintings by a local artist hung on the walls.
A cozy book nook filled one corner and yes, I’d found a few books I wanted to read.
No wonder Mrs. Baker had fond memories of this place.
They really did treat you like royalty here.
Speaking of kings, George was stretched out on the humongous bed as if he owned the place.
“Are you having fun, mister?” I scooped him into my arms and snuggled him. He instantly started to purr. My boy could be a cantankerous kitty sometimes, but he was my cantankerous kitty, and I loved him to pieces.
At check-in, I had tried not to act shocked when the desk clerk mentioned having an animal whisperer on staff. She explained how cat charms had been placed around my villa so George could explore outside but not go too far. This was shaping up to be quite a unique vacation for both of us.
While audibly kissing the top of his head, something I could only do for a short time before he got pissed off, I noticed that a piece of paper had been slipped under my door during my soak in the tub.
I stooped to pick it up and nearly choked. This had to be a mistake—a terrible, awful mistake.
It was tomorrow’s itinerary—for Date-A-Wolf contestants.