Souls of the Storm: Souls by the Sea, #3

By Cerine Talbot

(She IS saving the world for herself!) Just when Burlie McLauren is finally crawling out of her mental pit an insane, elemental being drags her back in. He's out for revenge, slow and deadly revenge. Why? What did she do?! What could she do, she's a teen with no magic, but this thing is going to destroy all life on Earth to make her pay. 

And Burlie will destroy all life on Earth if she stops him.

Great, just great, but nothing is getting in Burlie's way now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cerine Talbot
• Release date: Dec 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386515463

Book preview

Souls of the Storm

Cerine Talbot

About This Book

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SOULS OF THE STORM

(Book Three of the SOULS BY THE SEA series)

Copyright © 2018 Cerine Talbot. All rights reserved.

Formerly published under the pen name Jessie G. Talbot

Follow me on Twitter @author_talbot for updates on my work in progress

presented with ZERO spam.

Souls of the Storm: Burlie McLauren battles an insane, elemental threat with the entire Earth doomed no matter who wins.

Poems and extracts by Bram Stoker, Emily Dickinson, Bessie Jackson, W.H. Auden, Robert Frost,

H.D. (Hilda Doolittle,) Madison Julius Cawein, and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

'Summertime Blues' is by Eddie Cochran.

Cover art elements courtesy of Freepik.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to my front line team and my eternal

gratitude to my friends and family.

Dedicated to all the crazy people who love the hot, sunny days.

And to Waylon, who arrived in June.

Table of Contents

Chapter One - The Seasons Revolve

Chapter Two - Megalodon

Chapter Three - Where There's Smoke

Chapter Four - Welcome to My Parlor

Chapter Five - Destruction

Chapter Six -  The Swarm

Chapter Seven - Storm a'comin, Maw

Chapter Eight - An Ill Wind

Chapter Nine - Defiance

Chapter Ten - Student Brawl

Chapter Eleven - Gunfight

Chapter Twelve - The Revolving Door

Chapter Thirteen - Wag

Author

Chapter One

Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn

Indicative that suns go down;

The notice to the startled grass

That darkness is about to pass.

...COULD HAVE THUNDERSTORMS tomorrow, a fifty percent chance of one on Monday, maybe one on Tuesday and the pattern of uncertainty continues all through the week. It's only the first of May and as long as we have residual cool air mixing with the new hot air we're going to have storms. Or not. Best we can do is lay low while the spring and the summer duke it out...

Good luck with that, the Spring sighed as she walked past the postcard kiosk with its blaring radio. If anyone could have seen her they would have seen an older lady with skin the color of a pecan shell wearing a church dress and hat of the finest, softest green. She carried a wide, white purse over her shoulder and it glowed under the sunlight.

She'd made an in-between sort of day, warm in the open and chill in the shade, with a brilliant blue sky detailed with feathery clouds.  A perfect spring morning for the Souls by the Sea townspeople, and the tourists they'd attracted, to mill up and down the smooth boards of the boardwalk.

The folks fishing off the outlying pier were laughing and kids were chasing after gulls along the sand. There was even a little girl trying to get a yellow butterfly kite into the air.

Oh, for Pete's sake. Ain't this sweet? Miss Spring sighed again.

If these nice people only knew what was coming.

I'll think about it later, she promised herself and sent a gentle breeze under the kite. It soared and the girl squealed with joy.

A sudden wind, a wind she didn't create, blew her wide-brimmed hat off. She snatched it back, spun, and lashed out with her purse. There was nothing behind her.

The air stilled.

Be cool, be cool, she encouraged herself as she jammed her hat back on and clicked open her bag. She pulled out a mirrored compact. Her hat was straight, the pink rosebuds around the crown budding, and her dress was unwrinkled. Good.

She took the shine off her nose with a few swipes of brown powder.  She barely noticed when a family of four walked right through her to surround a woman selling incense and jewelry out of a suitcase.

She had long, greying hair and wore a long, flowing dress and her creations had long, silver strands of semi-precious stones and rough crystals. The crystals threw little sparks of rainbow light all over her customers.

Miss Spring thought it was a lovely effect but not nearly as lovely as the smell of the bacon cheeseburgers frying at Betty and Reggie's Diner nearby. Next door to that the line at Saul's Homemade Ice Cream was moving fast. Miss Spring decided to drop in on both places.

She didn't need food but she loved to eat. It would make her feel better.

Her time was coming to a close and she was getting weaker. Any day, any minute, now the Summer was going to be large and in charge.

And that was going to be bad.

She heard the jingle, jingle, jingle of dog tags and a white dachshund went galumphing past. She was on a long lead and at the other end was a tall and pretty girl with dark, wildly crooked, hair blowing in the breeze. Miss Spring knew her. It was Burlington McLauren.

The Summer was going to be especially bad for her.

That nut, Miss Spring said and threw her compact back into her bag.

Burlie sneezed four times in a row, hard enough to alarm the jewelry seller. Hi, Burlie. You okay?

Hey, Ms. Feight, Burlie croaked.

Call me the Empress Persephone of the Underworld! Or just Persephone.

Burlie smiled. Empress, she said and cleared her throat. And rubbed her nose. Aaagh, I'm fine, she finally answered. I just can't deal with all this pine pollen.

Persephone smiled. Spring in North Carolina. It hits some people hard. Just think of it as nature celebrating Beltane by making mad love.

Beltane?

The woman put out a mysterious vibe as she touched a pentagram medallion around her neck. "Beltane. The New Year for me. The veil between worlds is so thin right now. It's a time of transitions. Of changes. Of power. Of..."

Burlie sneezed twice more. Out of self-defense Miss Spring guessed.

Persephone was concerned. Need a tissue? 

I've got one. I've got an entire pack. Burlie took a Kleenex out of her pocket.  Honk. I hope it's enough to get me home.

What a gorgeous dress, meanwhile, Persephone said.

Aw, thanks. Burlie was wearing a sweet beach dress with soft fabric of an ashy lavender color. A black string bag hung from her shoulder. She even had a ornamented bracelet on her wrist that practically clanked as she swung her arm.

New clothes, new decorations. Miss Spring, champion of new beginnings, approved from the bottom of her soul. About time Burlie got out and had a little fun. A round of Beltane for everybody!

A new customer thundered up to squeal over Persephone's shiny trinkets, practically spinning Burlie around as she butted in. Oooh, look at these! What do they do?

A brief flash of pain crossed Persephone's face. Nothing. They're jewelry, not charms.

Well, they're pretty at least, the tourist condescended.

I'll see you later, Burlie whispered and slipped away.

Bye, Persephone said, smiling almost genuinely as she held out a dreamcatcher to her customer. Now these feathers are genuine scarlet owl. Very rare and powerful.

Now if those didn't come from a Rhode Island Red I'll kiss your fanny, Miss Spring said but she wasn't getting in the way of anyone's hustle. She left Persephone alone.

Burlie walked on and the Spring idly followed. Burlie bought a Neapolitan sugar cone from Saul's and enjoyed it as she picked through a bin of paperbacks from a used book stall. She decided on Dracula and a pristine hardback version of The Wind in the Willows. She smelled them and flipped through the pages before she handed over her money. She popped them into her bag with a smile.

And sneezed again. Ugh, please, enough, Burlie said and her voice was rough. She cleared her throat for the twentieth time that hour.

Ooooh, you got a cold, sweetie? a strange man simpered as he planted himself in her path. Burlie had to stop or collide with him.

Miss Spring was surprised. Where did he come from? The creep just rose up out of nowhere. Yes, a creep. No truly innocent person had eyes that wide open and guileless. They didn't blink as he looked over the girl. He stretched his lips in a friendly grin.

He had a small dog on a frayed leash, a downhearted thing with a brown coat so heavy and matted it looked like a sandblasted turtle's shell.

Poor little thing. Miss Spring actually took a step back in anger and disgust.

Burlie wasn't taken with the man either. Just allergies, she said, stepping around him.

He blocked her again. Now don't go away, they're making friends! He snapped the leash as if his dog were a pony and it stiffly stepped forward. Burlie's dachshund was alarmed and gave it a pity sniff, nose to nose. I think our doggies need a playdate. Let's you 'n me go down to the water and turn them loose. C'mon!

Burlie shook her head. Excuse us.

My name's Timmy! What's yours?

Your dog needs to take a break, Burlie said. It needs a drink of water. True, it was beginning to pant.

Burlie's stone face cracked with a brief expression of pity and longing as she looked down at it.

What's your name? Timmy insisted.

Don't worry about it, Burlie said and her tone was final. She gently tugged her own lead. C'mon, Lili.

The man's bottom lip twisted into a pout. Well, you're rude.

Yes, Burlie agreed. She didn't look back as she walked away, Lili trotting beside her. No creep was going to shame her into holding still for extra creepiness.

Good girl, Miss Spring approved again.

"Oh, don't get in the way of the princess!" Timmy called after her. Burlie didn't answer. 

Timmy's wide eyes popped with anger. He jerked his dog off all four paws and dragged it away. Miss Spring watched as he slipped into the gap between the diner and Saul's. 

Thinks she's so great? he muttered. He tied the dog to the rail of Saul's side door steps. Tied it so high up it had to clumsily stand on its hind feet against the wall or hang.  Wiggling her cute little ass all over the beach? Excuse me for noticing, he muttered, his voice a tangled snarl of frustration. Well, I'll show her who she's messing with. Karma. Instant Karma, that's who.

There was a flash of ugly and Timmy turned into a dishwater-white and orange cat, sly-eyed and thin.

Miss Spring gasped and a nearby flower bush burst into pink blooms. They spilled over their decorative tub.

Timmy didn't notice. He ran past on all fours in hot pursuit of the princess what done him wrong.

Miss Spring was on his heels. A witch! A witch out for Burlie's blood. Not again. Oh, no, you don't, Miss Spring said, reaching out for him...

... and choked as a sharp piece of driftwood punched through her breastbone from behind. Her arms flew up from the force and she skidded to her knees. She stared down and saw the deadly tip of the wood twist in the hole in her chest.

She didn't bleed. What she felt wasn't pain.

It was finality.

Her time was done.

Got distracted, gloated the Summer. He was a dark man with a broad smile and dreadlocks bleached almost white by the sun. He wore red shorts, flip flops, and a neon pink t-shirt that advertised AUSSIE AUGIE'S CROCODILE SLIDERS.

The color nearly made her eyes water as Miss Spring stood up to face him.

And began to fade away. She could see the beach through her hands.

No, she gasped. Not now. That cat's a witch and he's after...he's after her...

No worries, the Summer reassured her. Nothin's gettin' to Buhlie before I do.

You! Miss Spring swung at him. Her ghostly hands passed right through his too-solid flesh. "Damn. Damn." He laughed and she cranked the volume up while she still could. Don't you do anything to her or anybody! she shouted. "Just do your job, you hear me? Stick to your job or the whole world hurts."

"Good bye, y'old sheep," was the last thing she heard.

There was a scent of flower petals and the Spring was gone.

The Summer was left holding the stick. He beamed and whirled it over his head like a conquering knight with a gleaming sword. He pointed it, Go, and a blast of hot air powered down the beach.

The little girl's kite was wrenched out of her hands. Persephone's stand of crystals toppled over. Stinging sand blew into Burlie's face.

The Summer laughed and laughed. I'm back. Ohhh, yes, I'm back!

PLUH! BURLIE SPIT out the grit and rubbed her eyes. The wind stopped dead and her ears popped from the strange pressure. She froze and waited, her hands up, ready to fight...fight what? She was alone.

Lili shook the sand out of her fur.

Nothing happened.

The moment passed and Burlie breathed again. You okay? she asked and, under cover of stooping to adjust Lili's collar, glanced behind. The perv and his poor dog was gone. It didn't reassure her. Get any in your eyes? No? Good.

Lili sneezed twice. Yeah, me, too. Ready to go?

Yes. Lili struck out along the boardwalk again and Burlie followed, holding the leash loosely. She felt uneasy and looked behind her again without bothering to be casual about it. Still nothing. She suffered another violent sneeze and her sinuses throbbed.  I'm sick of this, she said and found a fresh tissue to blow her nose yet again.

Pollen! The miserable pine tree pollen drifting in great yellow clouds, like a living, alien, dust bowl, was a shocker to the entire McLauren clan. They didn't notice the stuff the first year they were in town. They couldn't escape it the second.

Wow, Burlie said and emptied her bag full of wadded up Kleenex into the nearest garbage can. An ornament on her bracelet caught on the mesh and she very carefully plucked it free. She twisted it just so on her arm again.

She dusted the railing and leaned against it for a little rest. Even with the Death Spores choking her she was enjoying her walk. Souls by the Sea had a great beach and the boardwalk was fun. The long pier jutting out over the water was inviting.

Burlie decided to saunter on down past the fishermen and wedge herself between the ocean and the land. The view of the boardwalk, the beach, the colorful beach houses, and great Bathatch, the bonanza castle, in the distance with its white pennants flying, would be fantastic. Maybe she'd have lunch there and start one of her books.

She'd read Dracula before but she had to read it again for a book report. It wasn't a book she would have chosen to revisit. It had become...personal. But she also didn't agree with her teacher's poor estimation of Bram Stoker. She was going to defend him which might cost her a good grade but Burlie didn't care. She was going to fight for her opinion.

A burst of laughter and music from the And The Rest tiki bar and grill drifted over to her. Cheery place. Was she hungry enough for lunch now? Would they let her in? It was a bar and she was only seventeen. Maybe she could get take-out?

Meow?

Aha.

Burlie looked down and saw an orange and dirty-white cat limping on three legs towards her. It stopped and licked a dangling paw, then it looked up at her with wide, wide eyes.

Ohhh, poor kitty, Burlie said. Lili growled at it. Hush, Burlie ordered. Sit. Lili was a dachshund. She charged and barked instead. The cat crouched in fear, its ears back, but it didn't run. Burlie pulled the dog away and tied her to a light pole further down the boardwalk. Lili protested, whining and stamping her stubby legs but Burlie said, No. You stay there.

Burlie turned back and slowly approached the stray. Kitty, kitty, kitty? You need some help? Kitty, kitty, kitty? she crooned and moved closer. The cat collapsed on its side and gazed up at her piteously. Poor kitty. Poor little thing.

It didn't seem inclined to bite. Burlie'd been mauled before by a stray kitten the size of a deck of cards and she didn't want to go through such a thing with a grown cat. Are you a nice kitty? she asked.

It practically nodded as Burlie bent over it. The cat rolled onto its back, kneading its paws on nothing. Making cute biscuits in the air as Burlie's grandmother would say. Not to be confused with air biscuits which aren't cute at all. Rimshot, Burlie said. I kill me.

The paws curled. Under the pads and fur there was a white gleam of long, sharp claws.

Burlie reached out to stroke it.

It's ears went back and its muzzle stretched into an unnatural smile as it rolled over. And leapt for Burlie's eyes, claws out. A yowling, triumphant hiss...

...was cut short as Burlie triggered off a blast of pepper spray directly into its fuzzy face.

The cat screamed and landed