by Ruby Raine
William swept the tears off her cheeks, saying nothing.
His hands slipped down around her waist to release her bonds.
“We’re both dying... burning,” she continued flatly, “and you turn me into a vampire to save me.”
He cringed, pulling back. She thought because of her confession.
Numbness crept through William’s fingers, billowing up his arms.
“Werewolf’s blood,” he recognized too late. Melinda’s bonds were laced with it, her own blood from the injury on her head covering up the smell.
“Please, William. Go,” she pleaded frantically. “While you can.”
His dark eyes penetrated hers. She saw it happen, the realization that he should flee, flashing swiftly into, he’d never leave her no matter the cost.
Melinda felt it before she saw it.
She gasped, a cold, thick liquid sloshing over the top of her head, raining down over them both. It blinded her. Caught in her mouth as she shouted for William.
When it cleared, he was no longer in front of her.
He’d stumbled and fallen down the pyre.
Bursts of light popped to life, torches firing up in a large circle around them.
Figures of the Firebrand Feyks popped into visibility. One eerie satisfied grin after another. They had been hiding, and waiting. And the trap had been sprung.
Melinda spurted the cold liquid out of her mouth, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes. William. Where was he? What had happened to him?
Her focus landed on an iron cage about thirty feet away from her, sitting on the ground at the opposite side of the gully they were in; Lucas and Emily were inside. Both looked to be unconscious.
Why was Emily in the cage? How had she gotten here?
Melinda heard William groaning and cast her wide eyes downward.
He crawled across the ground toward her, his limbs not functioning properly. Globs of blood covered him from head to toe, soaking through his clothes, seeping into his skin.
Melinda assumed they’d used more werewolf blood, and in a second he’d be paralyzed and helpless. Just like her.
Behind William, an imposing figure approached out of the darkness.
Riley Deane.
Another silhouette emerged behind him.
Eva Jordan.
“You made it far too easy for us,” she directed at Melinda. “Came right to our doorstep.”
One of the Feyks joined her. “And here I thought we’d have to plan and scheme to capture a Howard.”
“I told you, Stricker,” gloated Eva. “They can’t turn away the chance to play hero. And lover boy over here knew just the right bait to catch our prey.”
The Feyk lowered his creepy oversized head into an impressed bow, motioning for Eva to continue with her plans.
Feyks lined the gully, watching, with no intent on stopping what was about to unfold. In fact, they looked sickeningly delighted.
Riley climbed up Melinda’s pyre, a bucket in hand.
Her eyes widened. What was in the bucket?
She held her breath as he lifted it over her head and dumped the contents over her. She gasped at the biting coldness of it.
Water, she realized. It was just water.
“Sorry,” said Riley, wiping her face with his hands. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you covered in all that blood.” He took her wet, matted hair and pulled it out of her face, placing it behind her shoulders. His gaze was devoid of the normal emotions she always saw there. The drunken wildness had taken over his grin.
“Let me go,” her voice trembled, the tables turned. She now begging Riley to be released from her bonds. If she could get her hands free, she might be able to stop this. “Please,” she begged him.
She winced when on the ground below her pyre Eva kicked William viciously. Riley peered down, letting out an empty chuckle.
William fell flat on the ground, unable to lift himself back onto his knees.
Eva cared less that it took a huge expenditure of energy to do it. The pleasure that steeled into her veins watching the vampire suffer was worth the effort.
Riley turned back to Melinda. “You’re safer right here. You’ll be able to see just how weak your vampire really is. You won’t ever be free until I prove this to you.”
Tears fled her eyes. A chill crept into her bones. Her teeth chattered, a mixture of fear and cold.
“Please, Riley. Please don’t do this,” she sobbed.
“I have to do this,” he told her.
“I’ll leave with you. Right now. We can go anywhere you want to. Just the two of us.” She squished her eyes closed and opened them in a poor attempt at control and honesty. “Anywhere,” she repeated. “Just the two of us.”
He sighed. “That does sound nice. But he’ll just follow us. Try to steal you away from me.”
“No. No, he won’t. I promise you.”
Melinda flinched as Eva kicked William again, rolling him onto his back.
Riley’s gaze shot sideways, then back to her as if his point had just been proven.
“You’ll never be mine until the vampire is dead.” His eyes stared into hers. Cold. Unfeeling, other than rage. One-minded.
The Feyk’s spell had taken over.
Her nightmare was coming to life.
The reality of watching Riley torture William shattered her into pieces.
Melinda could not believe the next words that spewed out of her mouth. “Then free me, Riley. Free me right now and ki-kill him. Get it over with and we can leave here.” She didn’t know if she could survive any scenario that included losing William, but it was a better fate than hours of torture with the outcome still being a painful death.
The death request did not have the effect Melinda hoped it would.
Riley kicked the empty water bucket off the pyre, jumping down, his tone accusatory. “If you don’t love the vampire, why do you care what fucking happens to him?”
“I don’t love him,” she cried despondently. “I don’t love... William.” She was unable to speak his name without pain riding the word.
Riley scowled. His spiteful gaze penetrating her with a level of fear she’d never experienced before. An icy sweat ripped through her and she thought for sure she was passing out.
How had this happened? How had they fallen so easily into Eva’s trap?
Where were her brothers?
It struck her that they wouldn’t even know this was happening. Possibly for hours. Possibly ever. The rest of her family might be locked up in a cage somewhere else.
Why had she had the dream if there was nothing she could do to stop it?
Just so she could suffer through it twice?
No.
It wasn’t the vision or the reason behind having it, to blame.
It was completely her fault for not sharing it, in its entirety, with the people it mattered to the most.
There was no one else to blame. Only her.
William’s torment, bloodshed, and death, was on her hands, and her hands alone.
Eva towered over William, a leg on each side of him. She leaned over, to see directly into his eyes.
“Nothing personal, just returning the favor,” she spoke dejectedly. “Oh, wait. It is completely fucking personal.”
His body slid out from under hers. Riley dragged William across the ground like a bag of garbage, towards the pyre opposite Melinda. It took him, plus three Feyk, to hoist William up the pyre and bind him to the stake.
“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.” Melinda closed her eyes and opened them, praying she was about to wake up from another dream at any moment.
There was no dream, no nightmare, to wake up from.
No one was going to show up and save the day.
Tears streamed freely. There was no stopping them. She tried to look away as they bound William to the stake, but was unable to do so. Was he conscious? Aware? She sobbed, knowing the answer to those questions.
He was paralyzed, physically. Not mentally. He was still awake and aware in a useless body. Like someone who didn’t go under properly after having anesthesia. And was forced to live a waking nightmare as some painful never-ending procedure was done to them.
William’s physical strength was so weakened he couldn’t even hold up his head. It drooped over in front of him.
Eva jaunted over and climbed his pyre, a disturbing smile on her face.
She grabbed William’s head, hoisting it up, so his eyes could see Melinda tied to the other pyre.
“So here’s the deal, William. If you beg for death, and you will... we’ll light up the pretty little witch and you’ll have a front row seat to watch her burn before you join her. Got it? Good.” She dropped his head and jumped down.
Melinda stared back in complete terror. The reality of what was about to happen, crushing her. Everything started to spin rapidly. If her heart pounded any harder it would burst out of her chest. Splotches of black burst in front of her eyes.
William’s torture would never end.
He’d never ask for death if it meant ending her life. This was a fact she didn’t need any vision to tell her. It might take her life being threatened by a tortuous death to turn her into a vampire, but William would never request death if it meant taking her with him.
Riley stood about halfway between their pyres, facing William. A fireball danced precariously in his hand.
Blood rushed to Melinda’s ears.
She screamed.
She could feel it in her gut, but she could not hear it.
Her body shook, her lungs labored in attempt to get enough air.
She struggled in vain to get free of her bonds.
A voice slipped into her mind, soothing, but weak.
“Don’t be frightened, Melinda. Close your eyes.”
It was William’s voice. Feeble, but certain.
She did not question how she’d heard this, or if it was even real, she just obeyed.
Crushing her eyelids closed as tightly as possible.
She did not witness Riley’s first strike upon William, but the blood drained from her ears and the sounds of it cut into her brain, engraving a permanent scar.
CHARLIE SPED ALONG the road toward home, too many thoughts and concerns racing through his mind. He’d just hung up from one of the most disturbing phone calls of his entire life.
Michael had called to explain what had happened to Mr. Morgan, informing him that Emily was missing. That he and Lizzy were at the mansion, and William had taken off to retrieve Melinda and Lucas after they’d charged off across the Isle chasing a gargoyle. Charlie had lost contact with her, unable to reach her, his calls going directly to voicemail. The world was spinning out of control and he had no idea how to get it to slow down.
After hearing what Eva had done to Emily’s father, Charlie knew without a doubt that she needed to die. And that she’d stop at nothing to get what she wanted. What was that now that her father was dead? Was she planning on carrying out their original plans?
No matter how hard he tried, he could not keep up. Even with his werewolf abilities or the Guardian ring. He was always a step behind. Always catching up. Always just a little too late.
Why couldn’t he get ahead?
Was he just bad at the job?
How had his parents done it?
Charlie didn’t remember his childhood filled with moments like these.
Did they happen, but somehow his parents hid it from him?
The road wasn’t lit well and Charlie bounced around, ignoring the potholes, in a hurry to get home. He needed to come up with an idea. A solid plan to get them back in control. He was tired of being a step behind at every turn.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed, seeing someone staggering in the middle of the road just ahead.
He was lucky to have seen the man at all as he was dressed in dark clothing.
Charlie pulled to a stop, shouting to the man. “Hey, get off the road before you get run over.” He didn’t have the patience to help the man right now.
Probably just a lost, drunken tourist.
He’d have Mack take care of it. He grabbed his phone to call her.
The dazed man spun around, peering at Charlie. He stepped closer, his silhouette drowned in the jeep’s headlights.
Charlie dropped his phone, his fingers no longer able to hold their grip on it.
It was a ghost he was seeing. Nothing more.
He opened his door and got out of the jeep.
He kept hold of the doorframe for support when his legs faltered underneath him.
The man walked up to him.
“Charlie? Is that you?”
It took Charlie what felt like forever to find his voice.
“It’s really you,” he breathed out. “How? How did you get here?”
“You say that like I’ve been away. It’s only been a few hours, Son.” He looked at Charlie’s face more closely. “You look... different.”
The shock started to wear off, a feeling of comfort spreading throughout Charlie.
Everything would be okay now.
Jack Howard had come home.
Charlie did not know how it happened, and he did not care.
His father would fix everything.
WICKED GOOD WITCHES BOOK 7
Look for Me at Red Dawn Breaking
Supernatural Protectors: A Legacy of Magic
JACK HOWARD SCRUTINIZED his son, closely. It looked like him, and yet it did not. “You don’t look right,” he told Charlie.
Is it possible, he wondered? That their father had been freed, and was alive, but had no idea over four years had passed since he’d vanished after being taken prisoner by the Soul Hunter.
Confused or not, Charlie couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around his father, tears stinging at his eyes.
“It’s okay, Charlie,” comforted his father. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
Charlie pulled back, unable to take his eyes off his father. He looked exactly the same. He hadn’t aged a day. A few stray gray hairs on his head, stubble on his chin. Still rugged and healthy looking as the last day he’d seen him.
“Why don’t we talk while you drive us home,” suggested Jack, a sudden urgency coming over him. “I need some supplies. I’ve got to get back to your mother. She’s in White Pines. I only just got away myself. Got some business to deal with tonight, I’m afraid.”
God. He doesn’t know... he really doesn’t know.
Charlie didn’t know how to tell him. How to tell his father he’d been missing. That their mother, his wife, Catherine, was dead. Only her bones remained in White Pines.
Jack headed toward Charlie’s jeep but he stopped him, gently.
“Dad, um, the truth is... Mom is not waiting for you. There’s no need to rush to White Pines.”
“She got away,” he breathed out in relief. “I guess I was caught inside that thing longer than I thought. How many hours have I been gone? When did your mother get home? Sorry- I guess you’ve all been out looking for me, haven’t you?”
“Dad...” Charlie paused, unable to continue. He was still in disbelief that he was talking to his father.
Jack took a step closer to his son, peering into his face. “I can’t quite place what’s different.” Something seemed to be clicking in Jack’s brain. “Why do you look different?” he asked absentmindedly.
“Four years, Dad,” exhaled Charlie. “That’s what’s different. That’s why I look different. You haven’t been gone hours, you’ve been gone for four years.”
Jack fell back a little, leaning against the jeep. “What? No. No.”
“Dad, you and Mom went searching in White Pines for the power source just over four years ago. You sprung a trap and were captured by something called a Soul Hunter. It kept you prisoner all this time. I haven’t seen you in over four years. That’s why I look different, Dad. I’m older.”
“Your... your mother?”
/> Charlie couldn’t say the words. He tried, but they wouldn’t come out. The pain etched on his face said enough.
“Oh,” was all Jack responded.
Charlie worried his father would go into shock.
How did someone process this sort of thing without going into shock? Without just shutting down? Charlie hated that he needed his father so much at that moment. Needed him to be the man, and witch, he always was.
“We thought we’d lost you both that night. We didn’t know you’d been captured until just a few weeks ago. I have no idea how it is that you’re suddenly walking down the street a free man, but... here you are.”
“Four years...” Jack repeated a few times. “It’s really been that long?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Dad. I wish I could make this easier for you. The truth is, things are not going so well right now.”
Jack’s head snapped up. “Michael? Melinda? William?”
“They’re fine,” Charlie responded, having no idea that neither Melinda nor William was safe or fine at that moment. “They should all be home by now.” Charlie urged his father to get into the jeep.
Jack did, silently sliding in and letting Charlie shut the door.
It was a strange ride home, which seemed to take forever. He had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road. He didn’t know what else to say other than to bombard his father with everything going on. He would need a bit of time to adjust to the reality he’d just dropped into. Time Charlie feared they did not have.
He could not fathom losing four years of time in an instant. A lot happened in four years. They’d each grown up in that time. Melinda and Michael had still been in their teens and Charlie just twenty-two when their parents had gone missing.
“Um, Dad,” he started as they neared home. “I don’t want to overwhelm you more than you must already be, but...”
“Go ahead, Son.”
“I think it’s only fair to warn you that there’s been some changes since you left. I don’t want you to freak out when we get home is all.”
“What are you talking about?”
