Sister Elenor shook her head. “His name started with a B.”
“No, it didn’t,” Sister Mary-Francis said with a scowl. “Ishould know. He wasmyfriend.” She turned back to me. “Anyhoo, he was the one who told me about the Gifted Sisters of the Sacred Heart, a small convent located here on the island, so I thought I’d check it out.”
Sounded like the name of a punk rock band, I thought, biting back a smile. This was serious business, after all, and I had no business finding any of it funny.
Sister Elenor nodded. “After she moved to the island, I came for a visit. Sure, the folks who live and vacation here can be alittle strange from a human’s perspective at first, but for the most part, they’re just delightful.” Her eyes sparkled with joy. “So, I decided to stay. And now, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”
With nervous curiosity, I looked again at the leopard and his wife/girlfriend who were next in line. Were they tourists who lived on the mainland? Maybe the leopard was a banker on Wall Street. A heavy-equipment operator from Cleveland. Or a high school history teacher from Phoenix. I also wondered if he was getting a steamed milk.
“Let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “In the real world, supernatural creatures live among humans just like they do here, only secretly?”
“Thisisthe real world, my dear,” Sister Elenor countered. “Just because it’s secret doesn’t make it any less authentic.”
Point taken. “Theoutside world?” I said, correcting myself.
“Well, they hide it, of course,” Sister Mary-Francis explained. “Except for a few special communities where they can live out in the open, like Darkaway Island. That’s why the destination resort is so fun for creature folk. They don’t have to hide their true natures here like they do at home. They can just be themselves. Let their hair down, so to speak.”
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 ownImmortal 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, ajail 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’snota 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 ofcolorful kites swayed in the tropical sea breeze like waving, beckoning sentinels.
Welcome, Daphne.
