Risen (Haunted Series Book 22)

boat.  They could do nothing about the arms drawing the boat in.
Ted and Burt climbed out of the engine area carrying a large battery between them.  Ted slid along the deck, stabbing long leads of wires into the larger tentacles.  “Now!” he shouted.
Burt threw a switch.  The odor of burnt seafood and the sound of the beast in pain preceded the fall of the Azure.
“Now, Captain, now!” Ted shouted.
Murphy watched as the yacht regained traction and started for the reef.  The clouds were coming in.  Murphy knew that the eye was moving away, and soon, the weather would be bad.  The yacht had to leave now.
The beast glared at Murphy.  It looked at him with the one eye it had left.  It turned and came after him with a vengeance.  Murphy felt vulnerable.  To use his axe effectively, he had to maintain a solid presence.  If he reverted to his ghost state, he ought to be safe, but Mia had said she suspected this was a demon.  Demons could do a ghost some harm.  So, damned if he did, and double-damned if he didn’t.  That’s when he remembered the C4.
He reached the box and opened it up.  He pushed off the ground and let gravity push him downward as he brought his axe down and slammed it into the explosives.
Ted and Burt were momentarily blinded by the flash of light that illuminated the underside of the hurricane’s clouds that were moving in.  The yacht was slammed by a rush of wind that pushed it towards the reef.  In seconds, it was followed by the deafening explosion that would cause their ears to ring for hours, perhaps days.
Kevin saw the rising water and pulled Fergus below the deck to save him from being washed over.
A series of additional blasts came from deep in the center of the island.  Ted pulled Burt into the passageway, closing the door securely behind them.
The captain used the swell of the second percussive wave to make it safely over the reef.  Only then did he turn around and see what all the noise was about.
The island was burning.
The initial explosion destroyed the earthly body that was Lamia.  Her fat burned and flowed like a river of fire that seeped into the volcanic vents and ignited the fuel tanks on the boats still stacked in the cavern.  The cavern became consumed by fire.  The old gunpowder from the captured merchant vessels exploded in the extreme heat.  The surface of the water bubbled and burned where the oils of Lamia floated.
Lamia’s spirit rose out of the fire and searched for something living to inhabit. There was nothing left alive large enough to hold her.  The demon-with-no-name had abandoned her.  It wasn’t like she hadn’t been warned.
The night before, she had crept close to the caves.  Her objective was to pull the humans out, one by one, during the storm.  As her tentacles inched up the passage where the uniformed men had taken refuge, she was surprised to hear them speaking in her language.
“He’s going to leave you, sweetheart,” one warned.
NO!  He promised to take her with him.  They were going to conquer the human world together.  The little apes would amuse the demon and sustain her as they traveled around the globe, looking for those who had imprisoned him.
She moved her appendage closer to see if she had heard wrong.
“I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to save you,” a seaman told her.
She pulled back.  Is this true?  Had he heard her approach?
“I’m trying to save you,” he repeated, this time his accent was less.
“Sweetheart,” the other said.  “He’s going to leave you.”
Did this puny human care for her? Care enough to use a term of endearment?  She brought him to his death, yet he called her sweetheart!  The demon-with-no-name used to call her sweetheart.  Lamia had met him in the prisons of Hell.  She was his keeper.  He seduced her with his words.  He didn’t see the ugly monster she had become after the fall.  When they took him away, she followed and cared for him.  He called her sweetheart and lover, even though her physical body would never allow for that.  Still, it was love.  He was smart and could communicate with the humans.  He spoke their language.  And now the humans were speaking to her.  Warning her.
“I’m not your enemy,” one said again.  “I’m trying to save you.”
“He’s going to leave you, sweetheart,” the other insisted.
She left them and went in search of the demon.  She found his vessel, but he was not within.
The words of the seaman echoed in her mind.  “He’s going to leave you.”
“He’s already left!” she screamed.  “How?”
Lamia spread out her tentacles. She had grown hundreds of them over the years. Each had the ability to hear and send sensory data back to her. They enabled her to see beyond her massive aquatic eyes. When the birdwoman attacked her eye, it only momentarily disrupted her sight. She was a mighty organism; she could adapt.
Maybe the vessel he had spoken to her about had returned. The vessel came on the shiny boat, the very same boat that was now sheltering in the cove. Lamia would search the boat and find them. If she had to tear it apart, she would find him. 
But the boat was full of assassins. One stabbed her; another poured liquid that burned her skin, and a third attacked her with St. Elmo’s Fire, little sparks that destroyed cells and disrupted her sight. The final assassin came from within the island. He attacked her with an axe. She lost arms. The pain was driving reason from her brain. The being with the axe was the biggest threat. She would kill him before returning to search the boat. She