Eternal by V. Forrest (primary phonics books .TXT) 📕

that had actually been on the ship the sept had traveled aboard from Ireland. When the vessel had wrecked on a reef in a storm and they were all washed ashore, they had collected these objects as well as the scrap wood from the splintered hull. They had built their first homes with those warped planks; portholes had become windows and the simple white bone china now displayed had been used on dining tables.

There had been a small colony of wreckers living in lean-tos on the beach when the Kahills washed ashore, but once Gair declared that they had reached their final destination, the Kahill women had bared their fangs, the men had raised their swords, and the pirates who made a living luring ships onto the rocks had moved south to Virginia, to safer ground.

The glass cases in the rinky-dink museum, identified by printed signs, sometimes with humorous sketches, were filled with pieces of china, brass candlesticks, and other assorted junk, mostly brought from the ship, although some of it was bounty the wreckers had left behind in their eagerness to escape a colony of vampires. There was also a small exhibit of arrowheads and spear points from the area’s earlier history, when Native Americans had hunted and fished the area. Some items were displayed on the round table that had come from the ship’s captain’s cabin; the same table that was used when high council took an aonta.

During the museum’s operating hours, a five-minute movie was shown in one corner of the room and there was a small gift shop off the hall, near the bathrooms. There, plastic swords, eye patches, fake coins, tomahawks, and other assorted souvenirs were sold. On rainy days, in the summer months, the museum made a surprisingly tidy profit.

“Fee…”

She felt a small hand on her shoulder and she turned to see a tall, slender, redhead with a short, spiky, hip haircut and heavy black eyeliner. She had to consciously block her thoughts and stifle a groan. “Eva.”

The woman, in her late twenties, kept her hand on Fia, giving her a little massage. “It’s good to see you,” she purred. “I got word of what was going on when I was in Istanbul. I came straight back. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

Fia leaned forward, trying to escape Eva’s grip. The woman, a professed lesbian, had had the hots for Fia for at least a hundred years, maybe longer. It wasn’t that she had anything against lesbians. She even felt sorry for Eva, she being one of only two in the Kahill sept, but it just wasn’t Fia’s thing and Eva wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“It’s been hard for all of us.” She started to turn back to her grandfather, but Eva slipped into the chair beside her.

“But especially for you,” she emphasized. “You know, I’ve always admired you, Fia. You’ve always been one of the strong women.”

Fia groaned inwardly, glancing at her grandfather, hoping he might bail her out, but he was ignoring them, intent on his banana bread and coffee. She turned back to Eva. “So…you were in Istanbul. How was your trip?”

“It was fine. But I missed home, you know, especially after I heard.” She scooted up on the chair until her knee was touching Fia’s. “You know, I was thinking, with Mahon…gone…there’ll be an opening on the police force. I was considering applying. What do you think? Do you think I’d make a good cop? I mean…I know I could never be as good as you, but—”

“I think we’re starting,” Fia said with relief as Peigi Ross tapped the side of her chair with a Bic pen to get everyone’s attention. Gair was the chieftain and would be the leader of the high council until the end of time, or a time at which God forgave the Kahills and called them home. Whichever came first. In the meantime, sept members took turns serving as the governor of the general council. Peigi had held that position for the last fifteen years or so.

“I know we all want to get home so the sooner we get started, the sooner we can get out of here,” Peigi called to the last stragglers, still loading up at the refreshment table.

“Sorry,” Fia said under her breath.

“Maybe we can talk later.” Eva reluctantly swung her legs around in the chair to face the center of the circle. “Maybe I could buy you a pint at the Hill tomorrow night.”

Fia gave a quick smile and turned her attention to Peigi. Peigi wore her gray hair short and cut close to her head. In baggy stretch shorts and a flowered top, she looked like any fifty-something, lumpy, bumpy human female. Running into her in the grocery store, or on the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk, no one would have guessed she had the ability to set a box of cereal or a moving car on fire, or that she made the best chicken enchiladas Fia had ever eaten in all her lifetimes.

“I know we had several issues on the agenda for tonight, but in light of Mahon’s death, I think we can table most of that stuff for two weeks. Soon as Dr. Caldwell releases the body, we’ll know when the wake is, but I talked to Sarah tonight and she thinks it’ll be Saturday night, her place. Everyone’s welcome, of course.”

“And that’s it?” Mary Hall rose from her folding chair, her eyes red and puffy. “We just bury ’m like we buried poor Bobby?”

“What about Victor?” Rob Hall asked her. “Not a month ago, he got rip roarin’ pissed and threatened to take my head off with an axe. You know, that old one he uses to chop wood at his place.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“What about Victor?” a voice echoed.

“He’s not one of us. We all know that,” Rob went on. “Maybe we need to look in that direction.”

“Look in the direction of that little tart is what I say,” Rob’s mother put