Bianca walked over to the coffee maker. “As you’d expect, Tracy is taking it in stride, but Davis…” Bianca poured fresh coffee into a cup from Raven’s personal machine and took a sip.
Raven nervously cracked her knuckles. “Gary Davis came highly recommended from St. Vincent’s in New York City. He’s fairly new to the area, right? That’s about all I know. What do you think? Is he up on the lore of the island?”
“He appears to know quite a bit. He was asking me the other day whether I knew there were sirens off the coast-and about how, two hundred years ago, the Nereids came and settled here, and then the fae. I don’t think he’s gotten to the meat of the history, though,” Bianca said, peering through the blinds. Raven came up behind her and gazed at the splashes of orange and crimson dotting the trees outside. “He definitely doesn’t know about the Lykans. Hell, I don’t know much about them. Do you?”
Raven smirked. “You taught me about the Lykans. My father avoided the subject of werewolves. Why do you think Gary doesn’t know about the other demons?”
“I don’t know. He just seems to be romanticizing the whole thing: beautiful sea creatures languishing on the rocks, brushing their hair and aiding the local fishermen. He hasn’t talked about the Empusas or Keris demons, either.”
Raven understood. “Hmm-the flip side. There are no love stories there. The Empusas are hideous in every sense of the word and, as luck would have it, Hekate has a soft side for them.”
Bianca rested her hip on the corner of Raven’s desk. “The Empusas have done her bidding for many centuries, but they stay away for the most part. Busy fighting with the gorgeous Keris, I suppose. Lucky for us, the patron goddess of the island has found the middle ground.”
“Has Davis claimed to see any of the sirens?” Raven asked.
“No. Not that he’s mentioned, and I’m fairly certain he would say something.”
Bianca and Raven simultaneously noticed the red blinking light on her phone. Bianca reached for it first.
“Dr. Strigoi’s office,” she answered in a professional tone. “Yes, sir…” She mouthed
Raven winked and held out her hand, taking the phone call. “Hello, Frank, how’ve you been?”
“Raven, sweetheart. I’m good. How’s my favorite M.E.?”
“Chief M.E., remember? I’ve been better, but I guess you already know that. You heard?” Her head began to pound. This day was not off to a good start. Bianca left, closing the door behind her.
“What’s this I hear about a missing body? Is he Lamai?” Frank Dubois was Raven’s mentor, the only decent father figure she had in her life. Originally from New Orleans, Frank had close ties to the
“Bo’s on his way, and we’re going to attempt to figure this out. Frank, I-I met the victim last night. He was alive and well when we parted ways. He did say he had something he wanted to talk to me about, but we were never able to continue the conversation.” Raven scribbled on a notepad as she recited the story of her meeting with Derrick to the mayor. Question marks filled the top half of the paper.
“Interesting. What exactly did he say?”
“Nothing, really, just that he wanted to-or rather, needed to-talk to me, and that he knew what I was. I didn’t get a chance to examine his body, obviously, but I noticed he was missing a bit of blood. Not much, and anyone else wouldn’t have noticed.”
The silence on the opposite end of the phone had her perplexed. Frank was rarely at a loss for words. “Raven, when Bo gets there, I need you two to meet me at my office.”
At that moment, Bo walked in.
“We’ll be on our way.”
Raven filled Bo in on the latest happenings at the O.C.M.E. as they headed out to his car, a sleek 1969 Ford Mustang, black and in mint condition. It had literally been owned and driven by a little old man who used it to get to the post office and the grocery store. The old man’s grandson had it in his garage for approximately twenty years and, after his grandfather passed in 1988, he sold it. Both men maintained it meticulously. Oh, and of course, it was a convertible. Bo loved his car.
Finally able to appreciate the colors of the season, Raven took in as much of the sights and smells surrounding them as she could with the top down while they drove to Town Hall. The scent of burning leaves filled the air as the sun beat down on them. A gentle breeze ran through their hair.
Roadside stands lined the landscape, bulging with bushels of the fall harvest. Signs boasting “Fresh Baked Pies” were everywhere. It was hard to believe the strange happenings that had recently plagued the office of the chief medical examiner. Then again, it was getting closer to
The beauty of the island, including the Victorian-style homes, quaint shops, seaside cafes and Witches Rock lighthouse, was only part of its charm. Frank Dubois insisted the residents of the town of Seacrest maintain a certain style, true to its two-hundred-year history.
Holistic healers, herbalists and astrologers along with an enormous art community-not to mention fabulous restaurants-all found their businesses thriving. There were crystal shops, art galleries, antique shops, bakeries and bookstores on almost every block. Each one was successful.
It was a festive time of the year on the island of Mirabelle Cove with the upcoming Samhain/Halloween Fair. Mardi Gras in the French Quarter had nothing on Mirabelle. The islanders partied not just for one day, but from mid-October through the New Year. Most of the summer folk returned to winterize their homes and remained for the harvest fair, then they headed home for the holidays to be with their families and hunker down for the winter. Winters on the island could be, and often were, brutal.
Raven always looked forward to these months of celebration. She thought of years past, the amazing partying interrupted by hours of work, which eventually gave way to more partying. Memories tugged at her, more often than not of Bo. He was such an integral part of her life that nearly all memories included him.
But what she felt the strongest at that moment was the palpable passion between them. He sat next to her, guiding the vehicle down winding roads. The uncontrollable image of tearing
“I could pull over,” he whispered.
She ran her hands through her hair and let out a frustrated moan. “Don’t tempt me, Boo.” She placed her hand where his thigh met his hip and rubbed gently. “Damn, but you are so tempting.”
Bo half-heartedly pulled up to the stone-faced town hall.
“
She leaned over and gave him a deliberately seductive kiss. “Who says I can’t finish?”
He grabbed her by the back of the neck and held her face close to his. “Then marry me. Let’s finish what we started ten years ago.”
Raven pulled away. “What? Where’s that coming from?”
Staring intently at her, he said, “My heart.”
Raven opened the car door and stepped out. She turned back to look into his deep, expressive eyes. “I need to process this. You know I love you.”
Taking in a long breath and holding it, he finally sighed with exasperation. “I hear a ‘but’ coming. It’s all right, sweetheart, take all the time you need. I’ll be here.” He slipped out of the car.
They walked past an assortment of brightly colored asters, mums, pumpkins and crisp, white Montauk daisies. The brilliant colors of the season offset the drab interior of the town hall offices. Bo held the door open as they headed straight for Frank’s office, giving Vivian, his secretary, a wave on the way. At least her festive desk dripped with gourds, a basket of candy and tiny scarecrows.
Frank signaled the two into his spacious office as he was finishing up on the phone. Standing just shy of six feet tall, with thick, cottony white hair and skin the color of chocolate, Mayor Dubois wore a constant expression of authority, always in control. Raven couldn’t remember the last time she saw Frank laugh aloud.
His office was plain, with little color, the only exception being a palm tree tucked in one corner. The floors were pine and the walls were a drab yellow. Raven recalled it being an antique white in days gone by. He did, however, have comfortable furniture.
A large window provided a scenic view for the mayor. Raven was aware of his tendency to daydream while staring out of it until either his secretary or a phone call forced him back to reality.
“I’ll try to be home on time for dinner,
“Yes, sir, Raven filled me in. I thought I’d wait to tell you that I saw the victim at Blood Pool last night as well. He was there until approximately two a.m., alone- most of the time.” Bo stole a glance at Raven. “When Solaris and I closed, the place was empty. He obviously came back, or was brought back-and had been attacked and left for dead.” Bo twisted his white gold wolf’s head ring as he spoke.
Raven pulled her leather coat tighter around her, sensing she was about to hear bad news.
Frank looked at them. “Before I begin, I want you two to know I called Solaris earlier, and she has confirmed, psychically, the same information I’m about to share with you. It seems we’ve got a few new visitors in town. I don’t know what they’re up to yet, but it’s not good. A powerful
“Raven, a drink? Bo?” he asked. “I’d offer you some absinthe, but I’m waiting for a shipment. Emerald of the Fae is bottling up her latest batch.”
They both smiled, but declined. Raven thought of their last encounter with absinthe. Raven still had more than half of the bottle Emerald had given to her. She’d had only a few drinks and some licks from it. The pure concoction would last a long time.
“May I ask where this information about
