by Ruby Raine
“I’m going to need tissues,” Melinda sniffled tears already welling up in her eyes.
Charlie grabbed a box, but took out a few before handing it to her. “Figure I might need a few, too.”
“Might as well pass that box along,” Michael spoke, his voice wavering as he did. “I’m not sure I can get through it...”
“Just take your time, Michael,” William spoke tenderly. “We know how difficult this is for you.”
Michael then explained what he had seen when he had read Catherine Howard’s death and their father’s disappearance.
EVA JORDAN WALKED INTO her summer home. “Dad,” she called out.
“In here,” he replied.
She followed his voice into the atrium at the back of their summer rental.
Anthony Jordan swiveled in his chair, turning away from a desk strewn with papers and books. He shared his daughter’s stark white hair, except for a few silver whiskers scattered across his chin, which only further accentuated the white three-piece suit he donned.
“I have excellent news,” Eva said, smugly. “I made contact.”
Her father slid off his glasses, smiling faintly in approval. “Faster than I expected,” his tone praised.
“Nothing like saving a damsel in distress to move things along.”
“Did they suspect anything?”
“No. Not a fucking thing. In fact, the middle one, Michael, has an interest in meeting you. He likes your book.”
“Fascinating!” her father said, noticing the bandage on her leg. “What happened?”
“Part of the whole damsel in distress thing, nothing to worry about. I’m sure it’s already healed anyway.”
Her father looked at his daughter suspiciously.
“I said don’t worry didn’t I? I covered my bases. I told them you work miracles with healing creams and you’d have my leg healed up in no time.”
“It’s a darn good thing that’s actually true, in case they ever call me on it,” he spoke dryly.
“Believe me, we’re fine,” Eva insisted confidently.
“And the results of the smell test?”
“Charlie’s reaction was... well, let’s just say I could have wrapped him around my little finger. But it wasn’t nearly enough to send him over the edge and make him turn. You’ll have to inject me with a much higher dose if I’m going to get Charlie Howard to transform into a werewolf tomorrow night.”
“And here I thought we’d spend months on trial and error,” her father exclaimed ecstatically. He poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to his daughter. He raised his glass, tipping it toward her.
Eva tipped her glass back toward him and took her shot in one swallow, whereas her father just took a sip. She shuddered as the whiskey slipped down her throat, stinging at her insides. She licked her lips greedily and poured another shot.
She left out the part where Charlie’s wolf had surfaced, and how it had turned her on. How she’d struggled to keep her own wolf under control. If Charlie’s brother hadn’t been there, she might have just let go and had a little fun. It would have been easy to let Charlie take her. But so very wrong. And not what she was here for!
But holy hell, when he’d pressed his steel into her stomach... she shuddered at the memory, a jolt of fire, forging its way from her chest down between her thighs.
Her father did not need to know that part. Definitely not.
And so what? It didn’t matter. Not really.
Soon, Charlie Howard would belong to her anyway.
It was just an added benefit that her wolf found him appetizing. So why not have a little fun on the side... Eva didn’t realize that as she spoke, her eyes shifted from hazel to yellow. The color of her wolf. A fiery gleam hung in her gaze. Her inner wolf letting out a simpering snarl that caught in her throat.
Just one full moon from now Charlie Howard would do anything and everything she asked of him. A thought that thrilled every nerve from head to toe. She’d make him submit. She’d own him, mind, body, and soul.
Anthony Jordan peered at his daughter, intrigued by the possessive nature coming out of her. This was going beyond duty to him, as a daughter. Or her own desires for payback. There was something else at work here...
Eva tipped back another shot and stared off into nothing.
“Make no mistake,” she uttered wickedly to the air. “Tomorrow night, that stray fucking pooch will belong to me.”
RETELLING THE DEATH reading of his mother had exhausted Michael Howard. It left him feeling empty, and yet overwhelmed. He pulled his jeep into Emily Morgan’s driveway. He’d done this a thousand times before, but tonight as he turned off the engine, his heart fluttered up to this throat, nerves in overdrive.
It was getting late, but Emily sat on a bench on her front porch, a light hanging overhead, an open book in hand. She looked up, hearing his jeep pull in. The book plopped onto the bench and she skipped down to meet him.
“Hi, Michael. Dad just went to bed. You want to walk on the beach a bit?”
He didn’t speak his response. Instead, he grabbed her waist, pulled her in, and claimed her lips. For the first time.
He couldn’t do it sweet and gentle. He wanted to, but if he did, he’d have chickened out.
Shock washed through Emily and she tensed, but with every press of his lips, she relaxed, responding to his declaration. Her arms wrapped around his neck closing the gap between them.
His arms swung low, enclosing around her hips, their bodies unable to smash together any harder.
When he released her mouth a minute later, shock and disbelief swam in her eyes.
He had to catch his breath.
“My God, Em. I should have done that years ago.”
She only nodded slightly in bewildered agreement.
She’d hoped. Always hoped he’d come around. She’d never been in love with any other man.
“Emily, can you ever forgive me for being such an idiot?” He tugged at her lips again, gently this time. “When I thought something happened to you,” he didn’t finish, lost in the sweetness of her.
Emily had no words, but a tear formed in her eye and slid down her cheek.
Michael kissed it away. “I love you, Emily Morgan.” The words slipped off his tongue, leaving a trail of relief behind them. He’d finally said it. Finally admitted it. “I fell in love with you the first day we met. I am an epic asshole for never saying it until now.”
She sniffled in a throaty chuckle. “You wanted to leave the Isle.”
Still, trying to make everyone else happy. He wanted her to get mad at him. Tell him what a complete dipshit he’d been. Instead, all that radiated from her was complete happiness, understanding, and love.
Love for him.
“Emily, I strung you along, just expecting you to always be there, and you were, are. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He picked her up and swung her around so she was against the side of his jeep. “I God damn love you so much it kills me.”
Emily gasped a little, her back pressing into the jeep. The reality of what was happening finally kicking into her befuddled brain. “You’re not leaving the Isle?”
“No.”
“Because of what you found out, about your dad?”
“Yes, and no. It’s,” he shook his head in a tight fashion. “Something changed tonight. I don’t know how to explain it. It just suddenly feels right to be here. I don’t want it to feel right,” he admitted. “But it does. This is where I’m supposed to be. Partly because of my dad, partly because of you, partly because of who I am. I guess I’m just giving in. I’m not fighting what I’m supposed to be, or where I’m supposed to be anymore.”
Emily leaned in, for the first time taking what she wanted. His lips belonged to her now, and she wasn’t going to let them get away. Her entire body relished in the fact that Michael was staying. And hers. It bloomed to life, her body a mix of shock and heat.
“I love you, Michael Howard. I know y
ou can already feel it, but I need to say it.” She tugged at his lips and he returned the favor. She tasted of peaches and cream. He wanted to kiss her cheek. Her chin. Her neck. Her chest. Every inch of her. Every dimple. Every hidden place he’d always wanted to explore.
His tongue charged into her mouth. She opened to him, sliding hers across his, tasting it. Curling around it. Nipping at it.
He wanted to take it slow, but his body betrayed him. He pressed into her, his hands squeezing at her hips. Now that he had a taste of her, he wanted all of her.
A blast of emotion poured out of Emily. Pure, undiluted love. It ensnared him, filling him with life. He was more alive at this moment than ever before.
Something crashed inside the Morgan house. It sounded like glass breaking.
Michael and Emily broke apart, Emily’s head popping around him to see what had happened.
“Dad?” she called out, her voice a breathless shadow of itself.
She wiggled out of Michael’s grip and ran into the house. Michael followed, worried that Mr. Morgan had injured himself. He didn’t always get around so good and he’d fallen once before.
Emily and Michael burst through the front door to see her father attempting to sneak away from an open window back to his bedroom, but he’d knocked over an old glass vase which had shattered during his attempt.
Emily planted her hands on her hips. “What were you doing?”
Her father just shrugged, holding back a grin.
“Oh my God! Were you spying on me?”
“It’s sort of my fatherly duty, and, and, well it’s about damn time young man!” he sputtered at Michael. “I was starting to think you were never going to come to your senses!”
Michael had no reply. He could only agree with her father.
“I’m going back to bed. I’ll clean up the mess in the morning.” Mr. Morgan waved it off, grinning at his daughter.
“Uh, huh,” she replied, amused. “Night, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you too, Darlin’.” He shot a look at Michael that warned, you’d better not hurt my baby girl. Michael swallowed hard.
It could not have made Mr. Morgan any happier. To see his daughter, a spirit vessel like her mother, with Michael Howard. Especially knowing he was a witch. Someone who could protect his daughter. It was the reason he’d come to the Isle. To protect her.
This wasn’t exactly the manner in which he’d expected, but it did an old man’s heart good to know she was in capable hands, should she ever need magical help he couldn’t give her. Like today. Without the Howards, he wasn’t sure what might have happened to his daughter.
Emily grabbed Michael’s hand and they stepped back outside. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s... nice. You have a doting father who loves the crap out of you. And I won’t let him down.”
Emily cast her gaze shyly downward. Michael lifted her chin and kissed her softly.
“Let’s go down to the beach,” she breathed out. “I could use some air.”
“We’re outside,” he replied lightheartedly.
“There’s still not enough air.” Emily’s mind was stuffed to the hilt with an abundance of thought. She’d just found out she was a spirit vessel, and Michael had finally told her he loved her. It was an air needed kind of night.
“A walk on the beach sounds perfect.” He wanted nothing more than to walk along the beach, the salty mist covering them, his hand entangled with hers as it always should have been.
Okay, so he wanted a whole lot more than just her hand in his.
Michael pictured rolling around in the sand, hands exploring every inch of her, lips devouring her. His name escaping her in a gasp of unbridled pleasure. His jeans tightened at the thought of it.
His empathy kept him from acting on it.
Emily was overwhelmed. Madly in love with him, but overwhelmed by the day she’d had. She was vulnerable, and Michael didn’t want their first time to be during a moment of vulnerability.
He wanted it to be perfect. Memorable. And when she was ready.
He’d been such a dick, stringing her along all these years. He’d let her set the pace from here on out.
For tonight, with the moon shining brightly over them, a walk down the beach just holding Emily’s hand was absolutely everything Michael Howard ever wanted.
WICKED GOOD WITCHES BOOK 2
The Fallen Shifter
Supernatural Protectors: A Legacy of Magic
CHARLIE HOWARD COULD not sleep. His brain felt stuck in the on position.
Just hours before he and his family had discovered their father, Jack, was possibly still alive. This, topped with an impending full moon, didn’t leave room in his mind for sleep.
He hopped out of bed, slipped off his boxer shorts and turned on his shower. When the water was cool to the touch, he got in and let it spray away his thoughts. For a few minutes his mind cleared, questions and doubts disappearing down the drain.
But it didn’t last.
Where was his father? Was he a prisoner somewhere? Had he been held captive these last four years? Was he really still alive as his mother believed?
Would they be able to locate and properly bury their mother’s body? They knew where it should be, but accessing it might not be easy.
He found comfort in the fact that his sister, Melinda, showed great signs of improvement, and hoped she would start building a life for herself.
That relief disappeared however, when he remembered the approaching full moon. He still didn’t understand why this moon seemed to be affecting him more so than any other. It tugged at his insides as if toying with him. Daring him to transform.
Why?
Why after nearly ten years would this moon be so different?
He was always tense, and easily prone to overreaction during the full moon, but this time he could practically feel the wolf inside him, moving just under his skin. Like a secret passenger just waiting for its moment to appear. And its moment was this full moon.
He didn’t even want to think about Eva Jordan; a woman he’d met only one time, but aroused his wolf to levels he never knew possible. Dangerous levels. Potentially fatal levels.
Charlie huffed and turned off the shower, the cool water no longer offering any solace. He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. And the thoughts and questions racing through his mind were not just going to go away.
He dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist, making his way to an open bedroom window. He peered through it, checking the grounds below. From the second story of the Howard Mansion, he could see the entire area behind their home.
Manicured gardens that wrapped around perfectly defined pathways. A six-tree apple orchard that produced the most perfectly crunchy, sweet McIntosh apples; perfect for cider every fall. A small grove of maple trees lined the backside. Charlie himself tapped the trees each spring, enjoying the process of collecting the sap and hauling it to the family sugar shack, boiling it down to a syrupy perfection.
There was a greenhouse hidden amongst shrubs and trees of various shapes and sizes, which they used to grow a few of the specialty plants and herbs required to make potions.
And in the center of the yard, surrounded by a maze of moss covered granite, stood a life-size gargoyle. It was supposed to ward off evil; however, it didn’t work. More than once they had been caught unawares by some supernatural creature or another, attacking or approaching them at their home.
A silvery beam of light filtered downward, casting an ominous shadow over the gargoyle. Charlie’s gaze followed it upward.
“There you are.” The moon materialized from behind a cloud. I’ll be full tomorrow night, it warned him silently, before another dark cloud soaked up its taunting light again.
Charlie’s gaze flickered to right outside his window. A firefly-sized golden light hovered in the air. Except unlike fireflies, the light was continuous, rather than blinking on and off every few seconds.
He grinned coolly. “You always h
ave such perfect timing.”
He tossed aside the towel, threw on a tank top, khaki shorts and sandals, suddenly deciding a stroll in the moonlight was exactly what he needed.
He left the house, jogged through his backyard using a pathway that snaked through to the woods at the back, stepping onto a well-beaten path that came out on a street close to the beach. He walked down that street about a block and turned right, down a short lane, which ended at a beachfront cottage.
He leapt up the porch stairs pausing by an open window, spying on the woman inside. Her dark skin accentuated the brightness of her white tee shirt even in the dim lighting of her kitchen.
Nina, his summer fling.
Her curled hair bounced playfully as she took a swig from a tequila bottle while swaying to an intense track of a metal band. Not Charlie’s favorite, but if it came attached to her, it was music to his ears. Watching her dance brought a smile to his face.
Nina had danced her way up to him on the beach a few summers’ ago, coming out of the darkness like a goddess on two legs. Into his life, like fate. He was halfway down his own bottle that night; it wasn’t long after his parents had gone missing, presumed dead. Melinda had suffered her breakdown. Michael’s empathy had just kicked in.
Oddly though, he’d never once had a single doubt about Nina, or her intentions, or reasons for being on the Isle. Not like Eva Jordan. This trust in Nina only reaffirmed his doubts surrounding Eva. Gut instinct, first instinct, wolf instinct, witch instinct... these all told him there was something he needed to be cautious of when it came to the white-haired woman who percolated his wolf to a dangerously wicked brew.
“Problem for tomorrow,” he said to himself. Release from all this chaos was just inside the cottage. Charlie’s lids lowered, an enticing growl filtering through his teeth.
“I got your message, Nina.”
The woman stopped, disappearing into another room. A moment later, the front door opened; she leaned against it, her eyes expectant as she dangled the bottle of tequila seductively.
