Vampire Interrupted (Wicked Good Witches Book 8)

by Starla Silver

  Melinda sniffled in surrender.

  “You have every right to feel how you do,” Charlie told her. “I’m sorry it has to be this way. Just, whatever you do, know we’ll be behind you, one hundred percent. And be careful. I’ve heard your teacher is said to be a little…”

  “You’d better choose your next words carefully, Charlie Howard.” Lizzy stalked into the room.

  Charlie let Lizzy’s retort roll off him, his words still aimed at his sister. “What I’m trying to say is, you have our full support and are in capable hands.”

  “Acceptable answer, I guess,” Lizzy determined. “However, I had the impression my hands a bit more than…” Charlie cleared his throat. She stopped, and shrugged, keeping a silent grin to herself. “Did you two get around to what you really came down here for yet?”

  “No,” answered Michael. His gazed flitted to Courtney.

  The reporter cast a wary gaze between the brothers.

  “You want my help?”

  “Yes,” acknowledged Charlie.

  This was Melinda’s queue to leave. She didn’t want to hear more. Once this terrible deed was done, she’d help Courtney locate the Feyk known as Stricker, and together, they’d take him out.

  The brothers each caught a shoulder on her way out of the cell.

  “Please let me know when it’s… done,” she stated calmly as possible. “I can’t see him.”

  “Are you sure?” Charlie coaxed kindly.

  She nodded, unable to say more and headed up the stairs.

  There would be no goodbye. Or final closure. Not for her.

  This was going to crush Melinda. Burn her down to nothing. Charlie and Michael hoped if she focused on seeking revenge, maybe, just maybe, she’d rise from the ashes and be able to continue living. She’d never be the same after this was over.

  “I’m going to take good care of her, Charlie.” Lizzy brought them back to the present.

  “Right. Okay. So, Courtney. We could use your help,” Charlie took on a business-like demeanor. He saw no other way to manage this. “We need to set a trap. We need a willing victim,” he explained. “I cannot guarantee your complete safety, but you are the fastest here. And strongest. And another vampire bite would not kill you. We don’t have the right to ask for your help. But we’d very much appreciate it.”

  She pursed her lips. Thinking hard about it.

  “One last thing. I understand you might wish to have your own revenge because of what’s been done to you, and while I cannot disagree, and we do need your help, I’m asking you not to kill our vampire. We wish to capture him if possible, sober him up, and let him choose the manner of his death. He’s owed that much, for everything he’s done for this family. And… I need to be the one who carries out the sentence.”

  Courtney went still for a minute. Gaze tight. Air sucked out of the room. The space suddenly confined, the walls creeping in.

  “It’s thick in here,” she finally spoke up.

  They waited patiently for her to decide, half expecting her to say no.

  She paced for a minute, jaw grinding. Teeth licking at the fangs pushing against her lip.

  “I will agree to your terms,” she finally told them. “But with an added condition of my own.”

  “I’m willing to negotiate,” granted Charlie.

  “I’d like to be able to live a normal a life as possible, and I’ll need some help with that. I came to the Isle seeking revenge, that’s still my plan. I guess now with your sister’s help. But I don’t condone hurting the innocent. I was a good witch in life before all hell broke loose. I’d still like to be in death. Or whatever I am now, I’d still like to be on the side of good. So if you continue to help me until I’m ready to go home, then I’m in.” She reached out her hand to shake on it.

  Charlie accepted without hesitation and took it, affirming the deal.

  “I think helping you adjust to your new life is the least we can offer. You have my word we’ll do whatever we can to help you.”

  They parted hands, and Courtney swung her arm up to her forehead, feinting naivety.

  “Oh dear. I’m just a poor lonely lost girl walking down a dark street all alone. Whatever will I do?”

  “I think that’ll work,” remarked Michael dryly.

  “Sorry, not trying to make light. Really is a bit thick in here.”

  They left the cell, Courtney apprehensively joining them upstairs. “So this is the inside of the famous Howard kitchen. Nice.”

  Charlie threw her another blood pack.

  “I just finished one,” the reporter noted.

  “Drink it. It’ll help with the urges once you leave the inside of the famous Howard kitchen.”

  “Will I be okay out there?” she asked him. “I don’t mean if we find the other vamp. More in general. You know, around those with pulses? There was a reason I was hiding in the woods.”

  “Drink up,” Charlie stated again.

  “Yeah. Okay. Right.” She opened an end and sipped on it. “Just so you’re aware, I may be faster than you guys, and stronger, but I don’t think I’ll be as strong as this other vamp. If they are high on the good stuff, I’m pretty sure they can kick my ass.”

  “We thought of that. But all we need from you is to attract the vampire. We’ll give you a vial of werewolf blood to use on him. This should slow him down so we can catch him.” Charlie held one such vial in his hands.

  “But don’t get the werewolf blood on yourself,” Michael explained.

  “Why not?”

  “Werewolf blood is poisonous to vampires,” he told her. “It won’t kill you, but it will hurt severely and shut down your ability to function correctly.”

  She stared at the rust-filled liquid inside the vial. “Good to know. Where does one get werewolf blood, anyway?”

  Charlie released a little of his inner wolf. Courtney’s eyes strained wide.

  “One bite from me, and you’d be dead,” he cautioned. He left out the part where her bite could kill him too. Knowledge for another day, once they trusted her better. “A werewolf bite is a death sentence for a vampire.”

  “Also good to know.” She sucked down her blood, thinking if she’d still had a beating heart, it would be thrumming at the speed of fear right now.

  What kind of world had she gotten herself thrown into? Her coven had been small, and did good deeds, but nothing as serious or dangerous as what these witches did almost every day. She was a novice in comparison. And the Howards, as well-known as they were in supernatural circles, still managed to keep a few secrets.

  “We’ve got a bit of time till sundown,” said Michael. Summer nights on the Isle, the sun didn’t go down till after nine at night. “I’m going to go bring Emily home from the bookstore, she put in a late day today. I won’t be comfortable leaving tonight if she’s not safely back here.”

  He took off and Charlie explained the plan so far to Courtney. They were going to wait until the middle of the night, after the last of the pubs shut down, and the streets empty as possible. They’d find a prime location where they could hide, and watch at a safe, but close distance, and Courtney would play the part of the lonely damsel in distress. While Charlie, Lizzy, and Michael waited in the wings to subdue the vampire. With Mack nearby as backup.

  Lizzy called Lucas and ordered him to come keep Melinda and Emily company. Mostly, she just wanted him involved in some way. The three of them would stay in the mansion, where it was safe. And perhaps he and Emily would keep Melinda from losing it when William was stripped from her life, forever. The brothers didn’t want her to be alone.

  Lizzy closed her eyes, the memory of losing her fiancé at the forefront of her memory. She hadn’t told Charlie he was a vampire yet. Or that he’d burned before jumping to his death. Only William knew this. It would be painful to watch again. And if Charlie knew this death would be painfully similar, he’d make her sit out as well.

  But he needed her, so she’d suck it up and be remorseful tomorrow.
Maybe get Charlie to take her mind off the entire ordeal. But even the thought of his magic hands exploring all over didn’t stop the tremble in her veins. This would not be easy for any of them. But perhaps once done they could all move forward comforted in the knowledge there was no other choice. Finding some kind of solace in the fact that their friend would be at peace.

  CHAPTER 17

  Counting down to zero hour was taking forever. Too long for their already frayed nerves.

  Charlie made Courtney drink so much animal blood it was sloshing around miserably in her stomach like the tide coming in. She refused to drink another, insisting her stomach would burst with a single drop more.

  It was a risk, using and trusting Courtney in this task. One, they hardly knew anything about her and had to accept what she told them at face value. Two, she was new and yet untested vampire. Volatile and potentially dangerous if put in the wrong position.

  But it was a safer alternative than using Melinda. Or Lizzy. Or anyone else who was only human, or a witch.

  Michael whipped up a small dinner for Emily, determined to make her eat. No one else was in the mood including him, and he doubted she would either. But he had to try. He hoisted a tray up the stairs but when he got to their bedroom, she wasn’t there. He heard water running in the shower. He put the tray on his dresser and went in to see if she needed anything.

  A step through the doorway to the bathroom, he stopped.

  Through the steam, Emily was sitting on the floor in the middle of the shower, staring at nothing. She heard him and rustled to her feet, pretending to shower.

  He saw only one option. A few seconds later, he slipped in behind her.

  “God, Em. You’re shaking.”

  “I’m fine. Nothing a hot shower can’t fix.” She refused to look at him. There was a whiff of an emotion fluxing, but she capped it, sealing it deep somewhere Michael could not reach.

  He swept his hand to her chin and turned it gently, so he could see her eyes. “I don’t want to push, Emily. I just want to be here for you.”

  “I got lost in thought. It’s nothing.” She forced a smile and went to grab the shampoo but he stopped her, grabbing it himself. He poured it onto his hand and rubbed it into her hair, massaging into each long strand. He reached over her head, and removed the handheld showerhead, rinsing away the shampoo. He wished rinsing away her pain was as easy.

  She leaned into him, unconsciously, her eyes closed, lost in the moment. He put the showerhead back in its place, his arms circling her waist, bringing her up against him. She trembled, her hands bracing his. Michael nudged his lips around the hair stuck to her back, kissing her shoulder up her neck, in a purposeful motion. He reached her chin and she turned to meet him. His lips tender against hers.

  She rotated, facing him, keeping their bodies touching, searching his eyes for something.

  He waited for the onslaught of emotion to hit him. To tell him what she needed. But he didn’t need it, he could see it in her gaze. Feel it in her breaths. The way her body moved against him.

  And then the emotions slammed into him.

  Longing.

  To be whole again. To be loved utterly and completely.

  “Emily…” her name fell off his lips like silk. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly against him. There suddenly seemed no way to get close enough to her. Not even if they’d shared the same skin. Her arms glided around his neck, lips locking together. The kiss was deep. Penetrating into their souls. Heaven would have been getting stuck in this moment, forever.

  The outward calm hid the desire building inside. Slowly leaking out into heavier breaths and tighter grips of each other. Michael’s hand splayed against her back, locking her against him, unable to bear the thought of their bodies not touching so closely.

  He pushed them back against the shower wall. His other arm sliding down over her thigh, picking her up so she balanced on the lip of an empty shelf. He pushed his body into her, opening her to him, keeping that skin to skin connection they both craved. Her legs went around him, enclosing, and pulling him in even tighter.

  A burst of yearning flew out of her, sending his senses into a trance-like overdrive. She needed him inside her, but didn’t want to lose the feeling of him against her. He reached down and guided himself to her entrance. Pushing inside with a gradual motion, pulling her ass to meet him until he was buried so deep neither wanted to move again; the act fusing them together. Michael branding her heart, Emily imprinting her entire being, into his mind, his core, their souls melding together in a single desire.

  His lips captured hers in a slow torture meant to drink in every moan. He moved his hips with a deliberate motion that kept their bodies glued to each other. If death came at this instant, he’d die in bliss. His right hand dug into her thigh, his left hand raised up over her head grasping the top of the shower. Emily’s arms and legs tightened around him.

  Michael wished so desperately to fix her. To make her whole again. To let his beautiful light shine again. To make her understand how much he loved her and would do anything to make her happy and prove she’d never be alone. That he was her security; but also that they belonged to each other, and no matter what was thrown at them he’d always take care of her.

  He groaned against her lips, throbbing inside her. He couldn’t hold on much longer and Emily was close. Her nails dug into his skin and she panted out a gasping cry against his lips. Michael thrust hard a few more times sending them over the edge together, and although sated, the fire burned on.

  If only making love to her over and over and over could fix her.

  It couldn’t.

  But maybe there was something that could.

  The words slipped across his tongue before the thought or meaning even fully registered in his brain.

  “Emily. Marry me.”

  She gave a start.

  He pulled back just enough to see her eyes.

  “Marry me, Emily Morgan. You belong here, with me. My world is your world. Let me spend the rest of my life taking care of you. I’ll always protect you. I love you so much I can’t even think straight imagining a life without you in it.”

  Emily said nothing.

  Only stared, blankly. Blinking flatly. Her breaths heavy, her emotions swinging erratically.

  Michael tensed. Not because of the answer she had yet to give, but to the floodgate drowning him in an overabundance of suddenly freed feelings bursting at their seams. Everything Emily had been holding back from Michael. All the things she did not want him to know. Or feel, or sense. Everything she’d tried to spare him from.

  Her body heaved in thick breaths. The misty haze dulling her brown eyes these last weeks, lifting, replaced by tinder about to ignite.

  Anger. So much of it. Over the loss of her father. Over the existence of someone as evil as Eva Jordan. Or the Feyk. Over her inability to rise above this and move on.

  Fear. She’d lost the last of her family. Without the ring stolen by Stricker, her body was open for business to spirits seeking out a new home. Even with it, she’d been powerless to do anything, or stop anything. She was unable to help her father. Or Lucas, Melinda, or William… or herself. Or anyone.

  Resentment and blame…

  Emily released her grip on Michael, sucking in the last emotion. Like a car screeching to a halt but skidding off the road. She pushed their bodies apart, each breath an uneasy quiver. A coldness encasing her where a minute ago she’d needed him fused to her; now she could not get far enough away.

  Resentment and blame…

  The rest of the feelings belonging with those hidden from him, precariously swinging by a thread about to break. Emily scurried out of the shower. She couldn’t face him when it did.

  Michael let her go, breath stuck in his lungs. Water pummeling his skin but only washing away the surface of him.

  The last of her hidden emotions breaking free.

  The thread spiraling apart. Unraveling a deluge of misery.

 
; Pain… she was going to hurt him and there was no way to stop it. She’d tried. So hard. To keep it locked up. Praying it would go away. It was so wrong, to feel like she did. And unfair. And yet the most honest thing she’d allowed herself to feel in days.

  Michael was frozen solid under the steaming water.

  He missed Emily drying off furiously, still half-wet, throwing on the first clothes she could find. Grabbing a suitcase.

  Resentment and blame…

  Emily blamed him.

  His family.

  Herself.

  And the entire damn magical island she’d called home… for stealing her father’s life. She despised this place and what it had taken from her.

  The last of the thread broke with a plink, like a violin string plucked at sharply.

  It might as well snapped in two, both broken strings stabbing at the same time. One through his heart, the other through his back. Emily’s blame and resentment coiled around one person, more than anyone…

  He swayed under the water, grasping to turn it off. Stumbling out of the shower, throwing a towel around his waist. His feet shuffled into the bedroom.

  Emily smashed a suitcase closed. It might as well been his heart. Her hands splayed against the top to keep her balance. She refused to look at him.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t want to feel those things. I can’t stop it.”

  “Because I failed you.”

  “You really didn’t.” She said the words, but they were empty as her emotions screamed the opposite.

  How could she not blame them? Or him?

  He should have known. Guessed this is what she was hiding.

  It was the Howard’s job to protect the Isle. To make sure things like what happened, did not. They’d failed. All of them.

  But there was a personal resentment aimed directly at him.

  Regardless, his voice worded his plea before his brain could even catch up to it.

  “Don’t go. Please.” He was a pile of taut nerves about to grind into mush. “Forget what I asked you. It was stupid of me. Just don’t go.”

  Even as he begged, his nerves crumbled.

  Emily was already gone in her mind.