How bleak a future. Not that hers looked much more promising.
“It’s not like you just decided to be like you are,” she returned hotly. “You can’t change how you were born. It’s not fair. Any of this.”
“I wish I could change myself. Life would be so much easier. I’d be of use to the community in a way they prefer. And perhaps they’d be more forgiving of my personal preferences if I was some tough fighter who took out a bunch of big bad Supernaturals.”
Lisbeth’s brows pinched together. It wasn’t so misleading a measure. A pathetic one few could live up to but the one that seemed to count the most. It certainly garnered the most respect.
“That’s never going to happen unless they discover some spell to turn me into… not me,” Mathew continued.
Her brows pinched even tighter.
“It’s exhausting really. Never fitting in and always trying to.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” Her arms folded tighter.
“Neither should you, Lisbeth. But face it, there are few who would agree with you about my personal preferences. Or how we think things should be run.”
Sad, but true. She unfolded her arms, unsure how to fix this messed up image he had of himself. How did she prove his value? Show him his true worth?
“You are right, Mathew.” Her words held a bitter edge. “We do have a common problem. I refuse to be a stay-at-home witch. Raising babies and tending gardens. I want to learn to fight, and teach, and protect the Isle. And if that means no man will have me, then so be it. And if there is no man to have you…”
What a pair they’d make. But like he said, better to live with someone you cared about and loved on some level, versus grow old alone.
“I’ve never told a soul,” Mathew revealed. “You’re the only person on this Isle who understands not fitting in. I don’t think even Charlotte would. She is… on some other level. I’m pretty sure if she gets her way she’ll own this place.”
Lisbeth chuckled. “She has been extra driven lately. Look though, Mathew, I’m glad you told me and I am beyond honored you trust me with such a secret. It was a brave thing to reveal even to someone you were certain would understand. No man or woman should ever think you cowardly, Mathew Bishop.”
He gave a short laugh.
“Courage comes in many forms. Not just physical actions,” she went on. “Or running head first into a battle. Sometimes the bravest of acts are the ones that require inner strength, not outer.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “You are my best friend, Mathew, and I’d be honored to spend my life with you if neither of us is able to find the love we want. And even if by some miracle we do, you’ll still be my best friend. Always.”
There was a tear in his eye. They hugged. Tightly. He sniffled. Relief obvious in his smile.
“How about we revisit this topic in a few years? I do hope you find someone to be happy with Lisbeth, even if it’s not me. Personally, I don’t think the men around here have any idea what they’re missing out on.”
“Right back at you, Matty Boy,” she teased. “Truth be told, though, I don’t need a man to validate my life. It would be a blessed benefit, I won’t lie. Just, promise me you won’t give up. You never know what the fates may have in store. You may not see the value in what you offer yet, but it will find you, Mathew. I have no doubt.”
A strange sound prickled in Lisbeth’s ear, or more appropriately, the sudden lack of any sound. She held up her hand telling Mathew to stay silent for a moment. He caught on, eyeing her hard. She shrugged, but for some reason, things had gone eerily quiet. A deadly, frightening sort of quiet that only happened when something unsavory was present. Nature had a way of sensing evil lurking nearby.
An electric charge of a spell cracked through the silence.
A round of flashes, and crashes, and shouts…
Something was different this time.
Something too real in the midst of a training session.
Lisbeth and Mathew eyeballed each other, both picking up on the change. Something was off. They got to their feet, Lisbeth adjusted the magical belt slung over her shoulder. She was having a hard time adjusting to the new outfit and getting it to fit just right. She’d resorted to wearing men’s clothes seeing as her pretty empire dresses just didn’t cut it when in battle, or training. Mathew stayed put, his ankle a little better, but still not allowing him to put much pressure on it. Probably sprained it.
Two male students broke through the trees, focused and palms at the ready by their sides. But something about their stances was… too hard. Too realistic for a mock battle.
A trainer slid out of the trees behind them.
“Make haste,” he ordered mutedly. “Get home, raise the alarm. If you find other students take them with you!”
Lisbeth’s stomach did a lurch; something bad was happening. She tore away Mathew’s magical fog-like shield and bounded out to them, the trainer gasping raggedly at their out of nowhere appearance.
“What’s going on?”
“Do not panic. But we are under attack. For real.”
“By who?”
“I’m not sure. Just get home. Now.”
“We should all be fighting with you. Isn’t that what we’ve trained for?”
“You are not prepared for a real battle.” She went to argue. “Do not push me, Lisbeth.” He looked to the two young men. “Make sure she gets home safe.”
She huffed and scowled… like she needed babysitters.
The trainer took off in search of others and to return to the apparent real battle breaking out somewhere nearby. Lisbeth was having none of it. Charlotte was still out there too. She had to find her. And help the others.
“Hey,” she called out to the young men. “Mathew’s injured his foot. He needs help to get home.” They both peered around her to see him hobbling their direction.
One of them laughed. “Knew I should have made that bet. C’mon,” he urged the wiry young man. Not unkindly, but with a tone of, we expected no less. Mathew ignored it, he was used to it. The two young men grabbed hold of him, one on each arm, and started toward home. He gave Lisbeth a quick wink and dramatically pretended to go down.
Lisbeth blew him a kiss before darting in the opposite direction. By the time they got Mathew back on his feet and swung around to order her home, she had vanished.
“It’s her funeral,” one of them chastised.
“Stubborn girl,” accused the other.
Mathew wanted to argue the point as he knew different, but there was no point with these two. He hoped she’d be okay though and wished he could be of more help than needing assistance getting home.
CHAPTER 2
A long time ago on an island not so far away… continued.
Over Lisbeth’s head, clouds parted way for the silvery full moon. Its bright light cast downward eerily but lit up the woods well enough to see what was ahead of her. She darted from tree to tree, palm at the ready, ears and eyes open to the sounds and sights around her.
She froze.
A vicious snarl ripped into the moonlight. Not far ahead.
A moment of panic almost claimed her. Was she ready for this? Had she rushed in too fast? Her training too limited?
It didn’t matter, not until everyone was safe and accounted for. She adjusted her magic belt and grabbed a potion bottle, prepared for whatever creature lie in wait. She got just a few steps before her legs would no longer move forward. An ominous shadow plodded far too close for comfort. About fifteen feet in front of her and off to the left a little.
She got her feet moving and took cover behind a tree trunk. On days like this, she was never so happy to be such a stick figure. Might not be appealing to the men around here but was handy when trying to hide out in the open.
Breath held, she peeked around the tree.
A snout lifted, sniffing the air.
Panic clawed at her again, a fearful realization that the creature was bent over and on all fours
as its shadow pushed upward standing on its hind legs. Its head lifted into the air and a hideous snarl echoed outward.
Werewolf.
A freaking werewolf.
And not the friendly, live in peace kind she’d met as a child.
She had no silver on her person. No way to defend herself against such an enemy. Other than to try to stun the thing using magic. It would take a hell of a blow. Or twenty.
A soft step to her side. A shadow stalking up alongside her. A human form. Lisbeth refused hesitation and pounced only to stop herself realizing it was Charlotte. She opened her mouth to scream, startled, but Lisbeth covered it and pointed to the werewolf. Her friend had heard the howl but hadn’t realized just how close it was. She calmed and Lisbeth dropped her arm from her mouth. They spoke wordlessly, with nods and pointing. Perhaps if they both went at the thing together they’d have a better chance of stunning it.
They raised their right palms and simultaneously leapt out and caught the beast off guard. Lisbeth breezed right while Charlotte, left. They hit it with a series of spells aimed straight at its head and heart. It stunned the beast, sending it to the ground, but it didn’t go unconscious only got the wind knocked out of it.
Good heavens these things took a beating!
Just as they were about to rush forward and attack again one of the male students jetted into sight, playing defense against two uncivilized looking witches. One female, one male.
Without hesitation the women set into firing at the witches, giving their fellow student a chance to raise his palms and attack rather than defend himself from shots coming in. The werewolf picked itself up and shook itself off. Lisbeth yanked out a potion bottle and slammed it into the ground just in front of the thing. It was only a defensive potion; so ill-prepared they were for a real battle. But it temporarily put a magical barrier around the wolf keeping it imprisoned within the walls of the magic. It wouldn’t last long though. It would break through with a few determined thrusts.
However, with the three students attacking the two rogue witches, they had them on the defensive and on the run in no time. The male student looked at Lisbeth and Charlotte with an instant new respect. He nodded in thanks, and approval, carrying on the attack and following the witches in retreat. Which left Lisbeth and Charlotte to deal with the werewolf.
The magical shield dissolved against the wolf’s continued physical attack on it, and they pummeled it with more spells. In trying to get out of the way it growled and flung itself head first into a thickly rounded tree trunk and proceeded to fall backwards, unconscious. Lisbeth threw her last magical shield potion at the beast, ensnaring it, and she and Charlotte raced off towards the village.
Their urge now to get home and see if everyone was okay, and determine who needed help where. With all the students and trainers in the field tonight, the village wasn’t as protected as it might normally be.
Lisbeth stopped short, her breaths heavy, and in disbelief.
Charlotte joined her. “Why did you stop?”
“I think this attack may have been planned, especially to be this night.”
“What makes you think this?”
“Kind of perfect don’t you think? All the trained and being trained fighters busy at the same time. It puts us all in the same place, easy targets. And the village protection weakened.”
“I had not thought of this, but you’re right.” There were hints of jealousy that her friend had come to this smart conclusion first. “This would mean we may have a spy amongst us. Who of us would do such a treacherous thing?”
“Perhaps no one. Perhaps I am wrong. These attackers may have used their own spies. I cannot imagine any of our own doing this.”
“I certainly hope not. The punishment of the one caught would not be worth any price.”
No. It would mean banishment for the traitor if none were killed this night.
But if anyone on the island died, it would be a death sentence.
In a single breath, the two young women became surrounded. By flashes of light, spells cast, a fight closing in on both sides. Charlotte dove one direction, Lisbeth, the other. She crawled to safety, picked up her head to check out the scene and look for Charlotte.
She was on her feet and fighting alongside two of the trainers and the male student they’d just assisted earlier. Damn it though. Those two rogue witches they’d clashed with had fought their way back in.
Lisbeth’s head snapped, a low growl filtering into the woods. The werewolf had awakened and gotten out if its magical cage. She crawled her way away from the fighting, determined to take down the wolf again before it got close enough to help its fellow attackers, or hurt someone. The mere idea of this monster reaching the village gave her the courage to try.
She climbed to her feet and ran toward the beast grabbing its attention with a few spells aimed right at it. All direct hits, but none strong enough to knock the thing out. It staggered, but kept on its feet, and now plodded after her away from the others.
Good, it was taking the bait.
Damn, she was the bait.
And alone.
With a gigantic werewolf clambering closer behind her.
What the hell had she been thinking?
She bent around, shooting off spells as she ran.
The wolf was getting wiser, catching on. It ducked and darted out of the way, gaining on her. Lisbeth’s heart skipped a few beats threatening to stall out completely. Between the full paced running and the fear, there was no room for a single beat more.
Up ahead she noticed a low-hanging branch and raced for it, jumping up and pulling it with her, as she landed, let it fly… her feet hit the ground running and she ordered her wasted muscles to keep working. The branch slammed directly into the beast’s neck and it made a freakish choking sound, its cruel hands going to its throat.
It didn’t give her much of headstart.
She refused the urge to watch the momentary misery she caused the wolf, the ugly snarl and vicious gnashing of teeth hungry for a kill plenty of incentive to keep running no matter how exhausted her body was, physically. She ran harder than she’d ever imagined possible of herself. Using every thin space between trees and bushes the wolf was too large to fit through, forcing it to go around, or over. All the while trying to figure out which direction she was running in.
In the dark, running this fast, she had no idea if she was taking the monster closer to the village, or toward the ocean. Every shadow started to look the same.
A flash of movement. To her right.
Had to be foe as no friend of hers moved so fast.
It scooted between trees in short bursts of blurry movement.
At any moment she was going to be taken down, if not by the wolf gaining on her, this new enemy keeping her stride.
A skid, a thud, and a cry behind her, from the werewolf.
Stop?
Look?
Keep going?
Pass out?
That seemed like a viable option right now if she wasn’t able to catch her breath soon. She needed to start running on a much more regular basis. Logic told her to keep moving. Her damn curiosity and sense of duty told her to stop and make sure of what was happening. So she did. Breathlessly.
The werewolf was on the ground writhing in pain. Snarling. Kicking out at some unseen force who moved so swiftly it was almost tranquil in its wind-like movements. Lisbeth stood her ground, palm at the ready, lungs heaving in the effort of running mixed with the flood of panic and adrenaline bursting out of her.
She gasped.
Tranquil was worst word choice ever.
A pale menace with fangs and two legs materialized between her and the werewolf wearing a long fitted coat that swirled around his calves with its sudden stopping motion.
A vampire…
Goodnight, Lisbeth! Lights out!
Of course it was a vampire. Few other beings moved so fast.
And why aren’t you running already?
Be
cause my legs have nothing left and my lungs are about to explode.
And you’d prefer to die by bloodletting?
Like I’d outrun him.
And just because he was killing the werewolf didn’t mean her life was safe.
She had little to fend off a vampire other than the break of day, which was hours away! But the vampire ignored her, its feral gaze locked onto the eyes of the werewolf.
“Yes,” he hissed at the dying beast. “I found you just like I promised.” He chomped his teeth at the hairy beast now fighting for breath. The vampire had bitten the wolf, a death sentence there was no getting out of.
The vampire was confident in his stance. His deadly stare reveling in the last living moments of the wolf. He must not be part of this attacking crew; the rest were unkempt and wild looking. This vampire was… for lack of a better word, debonair. A magnificent button down jacket that fitted perfectly around the pale one’s body, with a high collar that no doubt hid the bite on his neck from being turned. But he was clean. Well groomed. And though his hair a touch long and disheveled, it was almost purposely so.
And why the hell am I standing here gawking? And thinking about what he looks like?
Lisbeth needed to get her common sense and body to start working, and run. Like she’d get far. Regardless, she should at least try.
The werewolf took its last breath, its giant body heaving in the effort.
The vampire let out a satisfied snarl. And in deliberate rotation pivoted and locked eyes with Lisbeth like she was the most delectable thing he would suck dry, ever.
Her hand swung up to her neck out of a moment of pure terror and sureness that her death sentence was now switched from being torn apart by a werewolf, to being sucked dry by this vampire. Even if she’d left a minute ago this thing would have caught her scent and followed. She was easy prey for such a predator.
In a single blink he was poised a breath away from her, his exhales like ice against her skin. He was a good six inches taller, coal gray eyes burrowing into hers with an intensity that made her instantly small and helpless. A pathetic damsel in distress. His mental examination of her might as well have stripped her bare. She shuddered, though not from any chill.
Hexed and Dangerous (The Wicked Witch of Future Past) (A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Book 9) Page 2
