Hexed and Dangerous (The Wicked Witch of Future Past) (A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Book 9)

by Starla Silver

  So he wasn’t a fighter.

  And she didn’t want to play stay-at-home witch.

  Big. Fucking. Deal.

  And why today? Of all days? After everything Mathew revealed to her?

  His future, whatever it would have been, wiped out with a single act of bravery.

  She was certain equal to that bravery, was Mathew believing his life was not worth as much as a physically stronger specimen who was a fighter and protector of the Isle. He’d succumbed to others’ opinions of him.

  Would she, too? At some point?

  Lisbeth kissed him one final time.

  “I hope in whatever awaits us in the afterlife, I get to see you again my friend.” She whispered her last goodbye and climbed to her feet, taking a moment to collect herself.

  She passed through the sniffling crowd, each mourning the loss of such a young life. Lisbeth permitted some bitterness to ease its way forward; if only they had shown him the same respect in life, perhaps they’d not be sitting here mourning at all. Mathew would still be alive. She hoped they’d learn from this and not be so outwardly judgmental.

  Things needed to change.

  People needed to be allowed to choose their paths in life, not have it chosen for them based on some biased, out of date, tradition.

  Lisbeth spotted Charlotte and made her way over. “You’re okay?”

  “Yes. You?”

  “Alive.” A little battered and so confused I won’t sleep a wink. Between surviving her first battle, Mathew’s death, and the vampire, Grayson Moone…

  Charlotte shook her head. “Stupid boy.” She spoke of Mathew. “Went and did exactly what we all thought he’d do. Got himself killed.” There was no remorse in her hushed statement and Lisbeth glared at her friend’s lack of empathy.

  “He died saving someone else.”

  Charlotte remained hardened. “Because he finally saw what the rest of us saw; no worth in his life as a witch.”

  Lisbeth glared, lips etched in a deep scowl. “How could you say such a thing? What has happened to you?”

  “We are living in a kill or be killed world, Lisbeth. Preservation of the strongest and all that. Mathew was weak. And he saw the truth more so than anyone.”

  “I disagree. I think others made him weak by not seeing his strengths.”

  “Perhaps.” Her body softened some. But not enough to forgive her harsh assessment of Mathew.

  “Be careful, Charlotte.”

  The woman lifted an eyebrow in defiant question.

  “I, more than anyone on this island, understand your position. What you’re trying to accomplish. Don’t forget we are still part of a team whether your last name is Howard, or not.”

  Lisbeth was shocked with her openness. A natural instinct kicked in, warning her that her friend, if Charlotte even still was this, was treading in some dangerous waters. Her personal goals shoved ahead of all else. Even basic humanity, or compassion for the loss of a fellow witch, and at the very least, a friend. If not a close friend, still a man who’d done nothing but treat Charlotte with great respect. More so than any other man on the Isle came by naturally.

  Lisbeth didn’t want to start an argument with her, and not here of all places. But she feared for her friend. Something punched its way to the surface, warning Lisbeth some darkness grew inside Charlotte.

  Oddly, more so than the creature of the night who’d not long ago had Lisbeth imprisoned in his arms. And freed her. She’d sensed less darkness residing inside the vampire than she did Charlotte. His wickedness, a purposeful temptation meant to taunt. Hers, a steep slide into something vile and shameful.

  Her friend’s resolve softened, a flicker of remorse in her eyes, almost like she realized she was being unreasonable. However, it dissolved into that hardened determination again only seconds later. Though, she said nothing in reply.

  “Lisbeth! Lisbeth!” a distressed voice called out.

  “Father!” She left Charlotte with the sense that they were no longer partners in this attempt to penetrate the witch-man’s world. And that for some unknown reason, they were no longer friends. It was too much to think about now.

  Her father embraced her, relieved to tears to see her alive and in one piece.

  “Thanks to all your training.”

  “And your hard work. I cannot believe we were attacked on such a night. And poor Mathew. Oh my dear lord, I’m so sorry for you. You were such close friends. I liked that lad. I really did.”

  She squeezed his arm. All her pain and sorrow going into that squeeze. Her father understood she was trying to stay strong. And his words of the attack shook a memory into her head. The idea that someone may have tipped the attackers off about the training battle. Or that there might be spies lurking. Surely someone else must have put this together. Still, she refused to chance it, and needed to inform the right people.

  “Father, I must speak with the Elder Howard. I’ll be along home soon. I promise.”

  “Okay. I will pay my condolences and meet you at home. You can tell me everything about the battle. And we’ll discuss at length, any questions you have. Or what else you want to learn after tonight.” She smiled, though weakly. Leave it to her father to ground her and remind her to be open and honest with him.

  Hard for a father with a grown daughter, she imagined. And so in tune with the fact that this night would have changed her in some way. That she might wish to learn new things in preparation for this kind of event to happen again.

  He left her and she noticed Charlotte had gone too. It was of no matter.

  Lisbeth wasted no time getting to the Howard House, sitting up high on the hill just outside the village. As expected, there was a crowd gathered, meeting to discuss possible actions and reactions to this attack. She showed no fear and walked right into the crowd searching out the Elder Howard. Henry, the current patriarch of the family and the man in charge.

  “Excuse me, Sir. It’s most urgent that I speak with you.”

  He stopped his discussion and looked down to her; he was a tall, broad man and she a tiny waif of a woman in comparison, wearing a determined stare that would not back down. He stepped away and motioned for her to follow.

  She explained all she’d believed to be true about the possibility of a spy either amongst them or on the Isle somewhere. He said nothing and let her finish and when done, gave her a mysterious look she wasn’t sure the meaning of.

  “You are not the first person to tell me this tonight, Lisbeth.”

  She breathed out in relief. “So others did put it together as well. Good. I’m glad.”

  “I am curious, though, why you’d say you came up with this idea?”

  She shook her head, baffled by his response.

  “You were with Charlotte earlier tonight, yes?”

  “Part of the night, yes. But not all. We got separated.”

  “I find it odd you claim to have come to this knowledge all on your own when Charlotte came to me a short while ago explaining how she’d thought this idea herself.” There was accusation in his tone.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Making claim to such knowledge without being the creator of the idea is not the behaviors of a witch in training. If you plan to prove yourself to this group of witches, you cannot expect to do so by cheating.” A few others raised their heads to look their direction, conversations muted.

  Lisbeth said nothing, speechless.

  This had nothing at all to do with the typical argument of, well, you’re a girl… this was all Charlotte. Because she was a Howard and not a Deane. So her word was automatically worth more at a time like this. So obvious, the truth became. Another harsh reality, and first. She’d had about enough of those for one day.

  Lisbeth lifted her gaze to see the raven-haired witch stalking not too far away, that hardened look, smug and satisfied. The last string of their friendship broke with a sharp plink. She tore her gaze away from Charlotte and landed it back on the Elder Howard like a dagger with perfect a
im.

  “I assure you, Sir. The thought was my own. The concern belonged to us both. Believe whatever you like. I care not as long as the people on the island are safe.” She made to leave, but paused, ice in the gaze she returned to the Elder Howard. “I’d also like to suggest that in the future when it comes to training of any kind, that students be permitted to choose their vocation, not forced into it. While I appreciate the opportunity to train as a fighter, there are those who should be allowed not to.”

  And this was the reason no man would ever have her.

  Lisbeth refused any filter when it came to suggestions she deemed vital to the future of all witches, whichever gender they may be. And most saw her defiance in this, especially to anyone in charge, almost treasonous.

  Her chin lifted, her head high as she barged through the crowd like she owned the ground below her feet. The Elder Howard said nothing, his gaze even, flipping a few times between Lisbeth and Charlotte.

  Lisbeth ignored the woman, wondering what she’d done to make her friend behave in such a manner. Furious with her, and yet uncaring as the sadness over Mathew and the need for things to change so much more important. She’d believed she and Charlotte had been on the same page with their views. Obviously, Lisbeth had been incorrect. Or something had changed. She passed by the witch, eyes sticking straight forward. But the chill that divided them was felt to Lisbeth’s bones.

  No, they were definitely no longer friends.

  Somehow, they’d become opponents.

  Lisbeth dare not think enemies and wished like hell she understood the why of it all. Did Charlotte believe there was only room at the top for one woman?

  Lisbeth had never viewed it like a competition. Simply trying to change the way people thought about women and their roles in the community.

  As soon as she was clear she hurried home and fled into her bedroom. Her father was not home yet, and that was good. Lisbeth needed a few minutes alone to clear her head and sort through this night.

  Her first battle, her first loss of a friend, her first encounter with a vampire who got her blood hotter than she cared to admit. Her first gain of an enemy.

  Yes, just admit the truth, she told herself.

  However, and why ever, it had happened.

  Charlotte was now an enemy, not a friend.

  One single night had changed everything.

  CHAPTER 3

  Charlie Howard had attempted to aim his boat toward home for two days. Each time, failing, unable to bring himself to follow through. He was ignoring duty, his family, Lizzy, and a hundred other things that took his mind to gloomy, disabling places. His boat, the only solace from the world he was trying to escape. Unfortunately, there was no escaping his brain. It refused to shut down and give him any room for clarity.

  He’d checked in with his family a few times, to be certain chaos had not broken out. But for now, things were relatively quiet with returned from the dead vampire, Grayson Moone, locked safely in the basement of the Howard Mansion. Inside the study belonging to the absent William Wakefield who they’d still had no word from.

  Between Melinda, Michael, Lizzy, and Lucas, and even Courtney Jessup and Mack as backup, Grayson would not escape. Lizzy might love Grayson, but she’d never take chances with the safety of the Isle, or its innocent inhabitants. Charlie believed this with all his heart. Like him, she’d always choose the right thing for the greater good, even over her own wellbeing. Or happiness. Part of why he loved her so damn much, so hard, so fast. She understood his duty; the heritage he was obligated to uphold.

  The thought of losing Lizzy to this vampire...

  Charlie needed to let this go. There was little to do about the situation other than let it play out. So much easier said than done, and one of the reasons his boat wasn’t ready to point homeward yet.

  How did he face her, act around her, be around her, and pretend he didn’t love her?

  Dealing with the inevitable sympathetic stares from his family.

  And just as inevitable taunting from Grayson who was likely to win her back.

  There’s that ego getting in the way of my job again.

  Charlie growled, drowning it with a toss back of whiskey. Imagining Lizzy and Grayson together in any intimate fashion got his temper flaring, hackles raised, and just plain hurt to the very depths of him.

  He’d fallen too hard, too fast.

  He’d put the brakes on, but it was more like a long skid that never quite came to a stop.

  Somehow, he needed to get his brain on straight. Go home. And treat this Grayson job like any other. The vampire deserved a fair trial just like anyone else, regardless of who he was.

  Or who he might steal from you.

  Another sloshing of whiskey flushed down his throat.

  He let the boat float away to wherever the wind took him. Fog hid him from the world. He wished from his own thoughts. God, for any way to turn it off, for even a few minutes. In times like this, he wondered how his brother Michael dealt with it all. The never ending deluge of emotions flinging at him from all directions, all the time. It was a testament to his brother he hadn’t checked himself into an insane asylum yet.

  Charlie let the booze bottle drop to the floor and closed his eyes hoping the swoosh of the ocean waves might carry away the troubles there were no solutions for. His breaths evened and slowed. The gentle toss of the waves rocking the boat, lulling him into a hazy dream-like serenity.

  Or maybe it was all the booze.

  He sighed languidly. Grateful the morning fog hadn’t dissipated yet even though it was late morning, nearly afternoon. And grateful he didn’t care what time it was or that he’d been some form of buzzed since sailing out to sea.

  A warm caress brushed across his cheek.

  A soft hand. A soothing stroke of fingers.

  I must have fallen asleep, his weary brain assumed.

  His head slanted into the caress, embracing the velvety comfort. A cool breeze itched through his whiskers, tickling the thick shade growing across his face.

  A light, womanly laugh.

  A familiar one.

  Definitely dreaming…

  Charlie’s eyes flickered open just the same, his cloudy gaze coming into focus on a golden ghostly form.

  “Hello, Charlie.”

  He blinked a few times. Senses flaring to life.

  “Nina?” he breathed out.

  “You think me a dream.” She dropped her hand, dark skin illuminated in a heavenly golden glow.

  He breathed in, letting it out slow. Alert and present.

  “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “I’m here. One final time as your Guardian. A short time. My rebirth into a human form is upon me. The breath of new life, close.”

  “You’re okay, Nina?” He was compelled to ask this before anything else. Their previous goodbye, hasty. Too rushed. Not given nearly the time it deserved considering what she’d done for him.

  She nodded, but there was sadness in her movement. “You are not okay, Charlie.”

  He didn’t bother disagreeing. There was no point, not with Nina. And hence, the reason he was hiding on his boat, a haven Nina was aware of, though she’d never gone out to sea with him before.

  The Guardian moved fluidly to her knees, eyes lifting to meet his. An ocean of blue swirling in misery staring back at her. Nina’s warmth was something he could bask in for days, but for this moment he’d soak up the comfort her presence offered.

  “You’re so beautiful, Nina.” It wasn’t like it had been before, between them. Even with his love life crumbling, he didn’t long to be with Nina like that now. He didn’t crave it like he did before.

  He really was in love… with a woman he wasn’t sure he had any future with.

  Nina understood Charlie’s compliment though and cast him one of her regal smiles. She was a true beauty, not just outwardly. She was the embodiment of perfection and goodness. With a little slice of temptress that as always, included some mea
sure of solace in it.

  “Our time together, is done, Charlie. Though I do look back on it fondly.”

  Charlie smiled back, his first genuine smile in days.

  Nina laughed lightly again. “I do believe the wolf is blushing. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  Charlie shook his head, certain the red flush was just getting worse, not better.

  “It looks good on you, Charlie. But we both know our summer fling is not why I’m here. You have questions.”

  “So many,” he breathed out coarsely.

  “And I’ve been permitted the chance to answer what I can, even though I’m not technically your Guardian any longer.”

  He reached out and touched her cheek. “You really are here. This isn’t a dream?”

  “As real as I get.”

  “Wait, so you’re not my Guardian anymore, is there another assigned? How does that work?”

  “As Howard Witches, you are always being watched out for in some way or another. We do not interfere with your daily lives and we don’t look in like spies. It’s not like that. But we are aware, and will step in on the occasions we can. Sometimes you see us, sometimes you do not.”

  “Like when you died for me and gave me this?” He lifted his hand, reverently showing her the ring that had once belonged to her.

  “I have no regrets, Charlie. I wish I could explain more, but my time is limited. While many things cannot be changed, and life will most certainly have its challenges, we do all we can, and you have already been assigned a new Guardian. One who will... play an important role in things to come.” She chuckled like the idea was funny for some reason.

  “What am I missing?”

  “Sorry. It’s nothing. You will like him. I’ll say nothing else as I don’t wish to preset your opinion of him.”

  “Might be too late. You obviously care for this Guardian. How could I not?”

  “I care for each one. Equally,” she insisted.

  “We will get to meet him though?”

  “Yes. Soon.” Her humor dissolved. “He’s been assigned to you for a very specific reason, Charlie.” There was clearly more on her mind but he did not push. He let out a sharp expulsion of air, rising to his feet. Energized, but wow, where to start? He did have about a thousand questions on his mind. He glanced at the ring that had once belonged to her. If they only had a short time, what did he ask first?