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

Page 15

by Starla Silver


  “I know, Charlie.” She cast him a gaze that insisted she was ready to handle this. “I won’t do anything rash. Or stupid. Promise.”

  “Okay. Be careful. Both of you.”

  They left him to pace the waiting room until he could see Lizzy. The first thing he was going to try was to heal her, again. And he’d keep trying until it worked.

  CHAPTER 14

  “So what really happened?” Mack leaned back in her office chair, staring down Lucas. He wasn’t sure how to explain it all, he’d never done such a thing before. Melinda got it started for him though.

  “Lucas is developing a magical gift.”

  “Oh, are ya now?”

  “And he’s super thrilled about it,” ribbed Melinda, attempting to cheer him up.

  He rolled his eyes. He and Melinda took turns explaining first, the gift, followed by all he’d seen regarding the ferry-jumping man.

  Mack listened, closely, to every detail.

  When they finished she lifted an eyebrow at Lucas.

  “You realize your driver’s license is suspended. Indefinitely. Until this new gift of yours is workin’ properly, and provin’ no longer a danger to anyone.”

  He went to hand over his license.

  She chuckled. “Not in an official capacity. Just don’t friggin’ drive until you’re certain it’s safe to do so.”

  “Not a problem,” Lucas retorted. “Had already planned on that anyway.”

  Mack tapped a finger on her chin. “I recall the case, early 1950’s, but blankin’ on the name of the guy. Give me some time though, I’ll see what I can dig up in the old case files. If you find out a name send it to me. It’ll make the search go a thousand times faster.”

  “Oh, wait. Duh!” Melinda dug out her phone. “Google search.”

  “Would not have thought of that.” Mack was about as inept at internet searches as William.

  It took Melinda just a few minutes to trace the story. And a name.

  Levi Johnston.

  Only thirty-one when he jumped overboard, and killed himself after finding out he had an untreatable heart condition that would claim his life in weeks, maybe days.

  “Okay then. I’ll find the old case files. Come see me in the morning.” Mack bade them goodnight just as her desk phone rang. She grimaced, although with a blush in her cheeks, and ignored the call.

  An act Melinda had never seen the sheriff do before. Ever.

  It went to voicemail, and this being the Demon Isle, it wasn’t digital messaging. They still used the old style, everyone in the room can hear it, answering machine. Mack remembered this too late as a familiar voice taunted the line.

  “Oh, you do like a good game of cat and mouse, don’t you, Kitten.” Nethaniel Dante. Courtney Jessup’s old boss was literally purring into the phone. Mack gritted her teeth and attempted to hang up the line and stop the damn recorder.

  Melinda had never seen the sheriff so flustered.

  “You promised me dinner, Kitten,” small gasp from Melinda and her mouth fell open in shock. “I will track you down sheriff. It is an island after all,” Nethaniel continued. A string of obscenities and disparaging remarks slung out of Mack’s mouth until she found the phone cord and yanked it out of the wall.

  “There! Maybe he’ll get the damn message… I only said yes,” she aimed at Melinda, “to get the man to leave me alone. But did that work? Nooooo…” Her word trailed off into a low grumble.

  Melinda struggled to keep her grin to herself and not laugh. Hard.

  “Oh, it is so not funny,” Mack refuted sharply at the amused expression on Melinda’s face.

  Lucas cleared this throat.

  The sheriff looked up to see him pointing to the doorway.

  “Oh, good grief!” Mack jumped to her feet.

  Nethaniel had just strolled through the front door. Cell phone coming down from his ear. A wide, toothy grin and ogling eyes all aimed at Mack.

  “And I think this is our cue to leave,” Melinda muttered in amused chatter. Lucas didn’t need to be told twice as Mack accosted the man.

  “Now look here, Mr. Dante.”

  “I am looking,” he purred.

  “You are the most…” nothing came out. Mack. Tongue tied. For possibly the first time ever. Red faced and hot headed and… and… and this was possibly the most hilarious thing Melinda had ever witnessed.

  “Oh calm yourself now, dear sheriff.” Nethaniel tossed her a playful wink. “While I’m always delighted to lay my eyes all over you,” he blathered, his gaze doing just that. “I am also here on official business.”

  “Official business?” she returned, uncharacteristically befuddled.

  “My missing employee. The reporter. Courtney Jessup.” He might have been visiting for official reasons but he was having far too much fun messing with Mack.

  “Right. Courtney…” Mack eyed the two witches attempting to sneak out. The humor was gone. There wasn’t much Mack could tell the guy other than the investigation was ongoing. They couldn’t exactly tell him she’d been turned into a vampire.

  “Well, have a seat, Mr. Dante,” Mack was saying as they booked it to the front door. “As long as you can behave yourself,” she added hotly.

  “Oh, I am behaving, Kitten. You haven’t seen my naughty side yet.”

  Melinda and Lucas escaped, fast. A fit of laughter busting out of them.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Mack so utterly mortified,” snorted Melinda. “I can’t even say why but I think he’s kind of perfect for her.”

  “Don’t know her enough to make that call but it was rather funny.”

  “She should be allowed a little love in her life. Hell, someone should. Doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to be a Howard.” Even though they all thought it their own personal responsibility to carry on the Howard bloodline, thanks to William and his baby-making machine responsibility talk a while back. It wasn’t something that was going to happen anytime soon from the looks of things.

  The love train of thought so instantly got her downhearted. Her sigh, visible.

  “Still hurts that much?” asked Lucas.

  “More like a hurt that’s constant. Buried a little deeper but always there. I keep thinking it’ll get better. Or go away. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and stop loving both men…” she caught herself, gaze ashamedly fixed on Lucas.

  She’d never come out and said she loved both Riley and William before. She’d always affirmed Riley was the winner. At least in front of his brother.

  “I’m not stupid,” Lucas replied with a wry grin. “I wasn’t sure, at first, but when William was sentenced to death… kind of hard not to see how much you care for him.”

  “Can we not talk about it?” she moaned wearily. “It’s been nice not having it on my brain every single waking moment. I even slept good last night for the first time in days.”

  “Yeah, no worries. No need to talk about the love subject.” It was impossible not to block out the bitter inflection and she wanted to press him about it, but she’d just asked not to talk about it. Melinda hid her curiosity poorly though and Lucas caught it too late that he’d given something away.

  “So, um, back to the mansion?” he rushed to change the topic. “Getting late.”

  “Yeah. Need to check in with Michael.”

  They made their way there, in silence, each step a little heavier. No matter how hard they might try, there was no pretending their problems away. They kept creeping up; a constant buzz kill. Even a humorous moment, like what just happened to Mack, which normally would have had them laughing for hours, did not stick around long enough to drown out the inevitable return of problems without solutions.

  It was killing Melinda to keep her mouth shut and ignore whatever silent frustration was going on in Lucas’ mind. If he wanted to share, he would, she reminded herself.

  Once home, Melinda and Lucas’ attempts to catch up were incessantly interrupted by werewolf-blood-drunken shouts from the basement.
<
br />   “To say Grayson is irritable would be an understatement,” groaned Michael.

  “He wants to see Lizzy.” Courtney shrugged, it wasn’t her place to say what happened, but she didn’t figure there was a way to let that happen.

  “That can’t happen,” confirmed Melinda. “No matter how bad we might feel for the guy. I mean vampire. Lizzy’s ex.” She smirked. “I’m not sure what to call the guy. First name seems too personal.”

  “Murderer comes to mind,” reminded Michael a touch harshly.

  “Which is why he’s not going to see her and remain safely locked up,” his sister stated. “Still, can’t help but feel for him, a little. I mean, he meant something to Lizzy… once… a long time ago.” Another anguished moan from the basement. Melinda wasn’t so sure he didn’t still mean something to Lizzy but she tried not to think about that, for Charlie’s sake. Whether he was with them in the room or not.

  “Oh, by the way,” Courtney slid off the counter. “Did you get some more werewolf blood? I lucked out and found another vial, but we had to give it to him when he got all riled up after the accident. I swear it’s wearing off faster with him being all pissy and moody.”

  “Crap. In all the chaos I forgot. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Melinda. We can wait until morning at this point.” Michael had administered the last dose himself. He’d gotten every last drop into the vampire’s mouth thanks to Courtney.

  “So now what?” asked Lucas.

  “I guess we’re kind of in a holding pattern.” Melinda had no idea what to do, other than try to sleep, which was so not going to happen. At least last night she’d gotten a few good solid hours of restful shuteye.

  Lucas made to leave. “I’m going to head back to the hospital, check in on Lizzy. There’s no way I’m going to sleep. At the least, I can take a shift to relieve Charlie. Give him a bit of a rest.”

  Melinda huffed. “Charlie? Rest? Never going to happen.”

  “I’ll be there, just the same. Night, everyone.”

  “I guess we’ll take shifts watching out for Mr. Irritable,” assumed Michael.

  “Yay,” Melinda twittered. “Another long night of Demon Isle fun. Howard Witch style.”

  Michael’s mouth turned up in an impish smile. “I’ll get the cauldron.”

  Melinda rolled her eyes. “And I’ll make another pot of coffee. Or ten.”

  “I’ll take mine red, hot, and fresh,” cracked Courtney.

  Michael shook his head letting out a low chuckle. “We truly are the lamest.”

  He grabbed a blood pack and tossed it to the vampire. She was doing great, adjusting to her new life. All came down to attitude and determination he guessed; she embraced it, not like she had any other choice. She wrinkled her nose at the cold pack and poured the blood into a mug, sliding it into the microwave.

  “Warm’s just better damn it. Tricks my mind that I’m waking up, even if I don’t sleep anymore. Kind of like that first sip of a hot coffee in the morning used to do; lulled me into thinking I was awake and ready to face the day. I never drank caffeine,” she explained. “Decaf only please!”

  “That’s almost blasphemous,” returned Michael. “Coffee without caffeine?”

  Melinda laughed. “I’d add more if I could. Although some days it does give me the jitters something wicked.”

  “I’m high strung enough. Add caffeine to the mix and I’d be crawling out of my own skin. Shakes. Heart racing. Doing rash things in a panic come out of nowhere. Well, it did anyway. Not anymore I guess. You don’t get panic attacks as a vampire, do you?”

  “I don’t imagine you have to worry about that,” Michael replied. “Although William always warned us that vampires do feel emotions deeply. So much so that if we were to experience them as he did, as a human, we’d probably have a mental breakdown or some shit.”

  “I can see that. I think everything about this new vampire body I’m living in can be summed up as, amped up. Original me, only amplified.”

  BOOM.

  POP.

  SPLATTER.

  GASP.

  GASP.

  GASP.

  Michael, Melinda, and Courtney stood with fixed poses and mouths hung open in disgust.

  “Oops,” sputtered Courtney. She’d set the wrong time on the microwave and the mug exploded, the door popping open and…

  “How the hell is there so much blood in one freaking mug?” Michael grumbled. They and the kitchen were painted in red streaks.

  “Sorry,” croaked Courtney. “On I think, a positive note, seeing you guys covered in blood doesn’t even look remotely appetizing.”

  “That is good,” chirped Melinda.

  “Vampires…” quipped Michael with a headshake. “None of you can figure out how to work a damn microwave. Even the one who was born in this century.”

  Melinda bit her lip to hold back a laugh. And then gave up when Michael doubled over, unable to keep it in. Courtney’s eyes darted between the siblings, wondering if they’d finally snapped. Her clumsy goof the final straw that broke them.

  “How many times is this now, Michael?” Melinda questioned, catching her breath.

  “I believe this makes nine.” He sucked in, the laughter releasing a ridiculous amount of stress off his heavy heart. “Thanks, Courtney, I needed that.”

  “Um… you’re welcome?”

  It was almost like William was still present. It wasn’t him. Courtney was fun to have around but she wasn’t their vampire. He’d never be so easily replaced. And was missed something fierce.

  “You got it worse than me Sis, why don’t you go clean up. I’ll start down here.”

  “Yeah, Okay.” It was the second laugh release that day, and this time, it made her sleepy as she came down. “You know what, I might try to grab a few hours of sleep since I’m heading up. I’ll come take second shift if that’s okay?”

  “Yeah, do that. No use in all of us being up at once,” Michael agreed.

  “I can have the kitchen back in order in a flash anyway,” reminded Courtney.

  “You kind of get a kick out of being super-fast, don’t you?” teased Michael lightly.

  She shrugged playfully. “I kind of do.”

  Melinda left them to it and took off to her bedroom, still smiling. One look in the mirror and she let out a clipped wail of displeasure. How the heck was there so much blood in one coffee mug?

  “Too bad William wasn’t here. I’d let him lick me clean…”

  How many times was she going to do this to herself?

  Was it impossible to filter her own thoughts and keep them where they belonged? Locked away with all the other crap she couldn’t do anything about. William was never going to happen. She had to scrub that idea out of her brain. Somehow…

  She’d gotten the pain lowered to a low, constant ache. It might never get better than that. And she had reached a very low level of acceptance of what could, and could not be. Try as she might though, her heart refused to give up, completely.

  Regardless of the impossibility of them, she wanted him home. Where he belonged, which was here on the Isle. No matter how difficult it might be to live under the same roof and not love each other. Especially since she’d end up in a relationship with some man, at some point in time.

  It was bound to happen. Wasn’t it?

  Another round of unbearable hurt for someone, most likely William. Because it would mean she’d moved on. This relationship might even end up being Riley if he ever showed his face again. She was not against that idea. A second chance, or a do over felt in order.

  How was it possible to love two men, so very much, at the same time? Still…

  She stared back at herself, eyes glossy. A warm ache in her chest.

  She’d fully forgiven her motorcycle man and had moved on to missing the hell out of him. Perhaps the distance made it easier to forget all he’d said, and done. When the day came he returned and they were face to face, would she feel the same?

  “Mi
ght never find out…” Unless he came home. She wondered if there was any way to reach out to him. He might not want to listen to Lizzy or Lucas, but he’d listen to her, wouldn’t he? And come home if she asked him to?

  In the end, like so many things, she had needed time to work through the shit storm, and be able to get her feet on even ground again. To be able to step back from the experience and look at it through different eyes. Ones that were not filled with fear and regret and pain, but ones that needed to learn, accept, and move forward.

  Her crazy dreams and incessant thoughts had allowed her to do that; these last few nights her dreams hadn’t been nearly as wild or chaotic. And awesomely so, absent of anything tragic and prophetic.

  Talking everything out with Charlie had helped a lot. Even some with Lizzy these last few days. She’d not bothered Michael, he had enough on his plate freaking out over Emily. Regardless of it all though, it all came back to the same problem for her: she still loved both men. It did not matter how they felt, or what they wanted in return.

  Perhaps the only choice was to deny her love for both.

  Because either way things ended up, someone was getting hurt.

  And although she’d be happily loving one of them, she’d be losing the other, for good.

  “Useless worries that’ll get me nowhere,” Melinda let out with a groan.

  She showered and tossed the bloodied clothes into the hamper, assuming there was too much blood to salvage them, but she’d try anyway. She hopped into bed where sleep eluded her. Her mind a cesspool of thoughts weighing her down. The summer heat giving no cooling comfort, even with the window open. It was a breezeless night.

  “Damn stupid brain…” she grumbled, sitting up in a huff.

  Her head slanted sideways, eyes pinned to her window. A raspy breath-like noise filtered inside.

  “What the hell?”

  A second later she was up and tiptoeing over to have a look.

  “Oh my God, Finn! What are you doing way up here?”

  He was curled up, taking up the space on the roof below her windowsill. His big oval head lifted, lips widening in she swore, a smile. He picked himself up and nudged his head into the window where she leaned in and gave his forehead a soft kiss.

 

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