by Ruby Raine
Lizzy helped herself to the stove and grabbed a pot to brew up a potion. “I will need something personal of Courtney’s for this potion. Like a hairbrush with strands of hair. Or a toothbrush. Nail clippings. Something that’s got her all over it. Clothing, or something she only touched is not strong enough,” she made clear.
Charlie nodded. He’d get it.
Melinda saw the look of relief on his face that he had something to do. An actual plan of action. It didn’t get them any closer to finding the killer vampire, but if they could track the reporter, at least they could make sure she was not another victim, and for whatever reason had fled the Isle.
Michael excused himself to go check in with Emily at the bookstore. It was close to lunch.
Charlie took off to pick up something personal of the reporters for Lizzy.
Melinda fetched ingredients and watched Lizzy’s every move.
She smiled, catching her. “You want to learn how to do it?”
“Would you mind? I’ve made a few potions, and I’m okay at it, but I could learn a lot more.”
Lizzy told her to grab the bottle of dried sage. “Take out a small amount, about the size of a dime in your palm.” Melinda did. “Now use your thumb and crush it, gently. You don’t want to over crush it.”
“Why not crush it in a bowl, or something?”
“You can, sometimes, but in this case, we need just a smidge of magic infused with the sage,” Lizzy explained. “Your palm is the center of your power. Some will mix with the herb.”
“Charlie started to teach me a little, but honestly, I was never interested until,” she cut herself off. Lizzy was aware she meant until being captured by the Feyk.
“My father always taught me that knowledge is the true key to power. He was sure to teach me something new every day of his life.”
“That must have been nice.” Melinda would give almost anything to have another day with her father or mother.
“It was. And at the same time I was typically a pissy bitch about it because I’d rather have spent my time with friends, or kissing boys. Until I was in my late teens, and then I was all about business and not so much about the boys.” And them not so much about me.
“Times really haven’t changed all that much. That’s exactly what I used to do when my parents were alive.”
“I think it’s one of those things you don’t know how much you’ll miss until it’s gone,” lamented Lizzy. “But I was lucky. Because even worse than today, back in my time, even as witches, girls were not trained as seriously as boys. But my dad wanted me to be able to stand on my own two feet come hell or high water. I’d like to think I do him proud, all things considered.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re taking on the biggest challenge of your life in dating my brother. That has to count for something.”
“I have yet to succeed,” drawled Lizzy. She sniffed into her pot. “Needs more sage.”
Melinda opened the bottle and followed Lizzy’s instructions, adding into the mixture. She must have rubbed it against her palm just right because once stirred in Lizzy smiled when a low hiss came out of the pot.
“Cool,” Melinda whispered.
“All potions require specific preparation of the ingredients,” Lizzy explained. “For example, if you cut the sage with a knife and tossed it in, this particular potion would be weak, maybe not even work at all. If you rubbed it between your palms and crushed it too vigorously, it would be too strong.”
“And I thought William’s potion was hard. I have so much to learn. So much time I’ve wasted in the last few years.”
“I could teach you how to make potions.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” Melinda asked eagerly.
“No. It would be fun. And good practice for myself too. And Lucas. I should make him do it too.”
“Oh, that’ll make his misery complete,” joked Melinda. “He really hates it here, doesn’t he? Wishes he hadn’t come to live on the Isle?”
“I hate to answer yes, but if I had to wager... yes, he loathes this place. But I hope in time, once he sees what good magic is capable of, he will come around.”
“Have you noticed Lucas acting funny?”
“He is moping around the house like a lost little lamb. So, normal.”
Melinda got an inquisitive look on her face. Lizzy shot her a questioning gaze in return.
“It’s nothing much I imagine. I ran into him the other day and he acted like something had spooked him.”
“Can’t say I’ve seen any strange behavior out of him.”
“Probably reading into things that are not there.”
Lizzy breathed out in curiosity. “You get prophetic dreams, so your senses are keen when it comes to suspecting things I imagine.”
“Sometimes.” She groaned, rephrasing. “A lot of the time.”
“You’re a bit like Riley in that way.”
Melinda stiffened at his name. “He is always eerily good at reading my mood. Almost a bit empathic in a way.”
“I’m not sure what Riley is. I’ve never seen a gift like his. It doesn’t run in the family, or at least as far back in the Deane family that I knew.”
“It’s so weird that you knew my ancestors. And Deane ancestors.” She watched Lizzy stirring the potion, a question on the edge of her tongue.
Lizzy looked up and eyed her. “Just ask. Geesh. You guys are so shy about asking what you want.”
“Sorry. Feels like I’m prying.”
“I don’t mind. It’s a unique situation. I’m very old.”
Melinda laughed, before getting more serious. “What was it like, on the island back when you were alive before? What was it like to live all those years as a ghast? Watching your life fly by and not being able to reach out to anyone you cared about. Or have any control over your life.”
“It was everything you can imagine, and so much better, and so much worse. Life on the island before was everything I imagined my life could be. I was happy. I loved being a witch. And there were a lot more witches back then. Heck, I think half the Isle’s population was witch versus human. We were not like you, in feeling so stuck here. Although, the Isle is my favorite place, there’s no other like it as far as I’m concerned and I don’t plan to live anywhere else. But back then, there were so many of us to protect the power source it was rarely a question of not having enough people for the job.”
“I can’t imagine that.”
“It’s something to behold. However, if we can all get our love lives settled, we can start popping out some babies and change that.”
Melinda snorted. “I am not in a hurry!”
“I’m not really either.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m a little eager. I never actually thought of myself as the having a big family type. But that’s something that changed while I was ghast. I had a lot of time to think about love. And family. And watched the downfall of the Deanes, watched the Howard family numbers dwindle. I’m not sure exactly the moment I changed my mind, but I did. And I decided if I ever got the chance to finish my human life I wanted lots of babies. I have a sinking feeling your brother is going to test my patience though.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Setting aside his constant worrying about things, he pretty much sees it as his duty to bring new witches into the world.”
“I’m counting on that,” Lizzy beamed. “A Deane and Howard bloodline will not only end this ridiculous blood feud and start healing the rift between our families, but will make for some powerful children. Pureblood witches. It’s a rare thing. And a good start to securing the future for the Isle, and the Howards. Not that the bloodline is weak by any means. But you’re just three left. Imagine if something happened to you... it’s a sad truth, but one to be concerned with nonetheless.”
“A conversation I had recently and wish I could forget,” Melinda glowered, thinking back to her uncomfortable baby-making-machine talk with William.
“Regardless of bloodlines and powerful offspring, it’s a
smart match on many levels. Your brother is a good man. Any woman he let get close enough would see it. He’s stubborn. Rather cocky at times, but so am I. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but I kind of like that. And I’m sorry, but your brother is eye-candy. New term I just learned watching some ridiculous thing called reality TV. No idea what’s so real about it, but anyway, Charlie Howard is the definition of eye-candy.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Melinda mumbled. She had her own versions, but now had to strike eye-candy out of use as it was now forever describing her brother.
Lizzy stirred the potion, happy so far with the results. “To answer your original questions, Melinda, watching from the sidelines as my human life should have wound down, unable to participate, was... hell. In so many ways a perfect picture of hell. If I were told tomorrow I was going to hell, it’s exactly where I’d expect to go. It was like living through a slow kind of torture. Not physical pain, but mentally. Spiritually.” Lizzy set down the spoon and turned down the heat on the burner.
Melinda sensed that deep pit in her gut widening. Lizzy had lost so much. Yet endured with a strength and vitality that made Melinda tired simply thinking about it.
“I watched everyone in my life move forward, without me,” she kept going. “In some ways, like I hadn’t even existed. Like I didn’t mean as much to them as I thought. Perhaps I’m judging too harshly, they had to move on. I was the one who was stuck. Not them. But in some cases it did seem too easy for them to forget me. And after too few years, they were all dead. There was no one left who knew me. It can make a person feel rather alone and insignificant. The mind can go to some dark and scary places, even in a ghastly form. But most of those wounds healed, over time. Today, I think it’s important to build new relationships. Stronger ones than I had before. It’s never been clearer to me that we’re not just our actions, or the things we do and leave behind. It’s the people in our lives that help give it meaning. Give it purpose. If no one mourns us when we die, until the day they die, then you really did nothing of value in the end.”
It was certainly one way to look at the meaning of life, thought Melinda, quite certain her life did not fall under the category of fulfilled, if Lizzy’s version of the meaning of life was even close.
There was a rustling of movement and she picked up her head to see Charlie standing in the kitchen doorway. She wasn’t sure how much he’d overheard, but he his gaze was fixed on Lizzy with a mixture of sadness, determination, and adoration. It brought a weak smile to her lips; her brother really was in love. It looked good on him. Like a natural fit.
Lizzy’s gaze lifted and she caught him. What he saw staring back at him was, I still don’t expect you to get down on one knee and propose, but don’t make me wait too long because I’ve chosen my life and I want it to start. But to save him from saying anything, she used her head to point at the hairbrush in his hand. “Perfect timing. The potion’s cooled just enough.”
He ambled into the kitchen and handed it to her, watching as she took a few strands out of the brush and tossed them into the pot. Stirring once again. Melinda got up close, making note of every move. Charlie noticed and sent her a questioning look.
“Lizzy’s teaching me stuff about potions.” She got an excited gleam in her eye she never got when he tried to teach her things. But it didn’t irritate him in the least. He leaned back against the counter and watched his sister and Lizzy finish the potion. His heart lighter for it. There was something about Lizzy in his kitchen, helping his sister that tugged at perfection. Almost a bit like fate.
Maybe Lizzy wasn’t appreciated or needed in her time, but perhaps, those in control of this crazy world somehow foresaw she would be prized, here. It was a poisonous thought to think he’d ever fall for another woman. There was only one Lizzy Deane. And she was his.
How stupid was he, afraid to ask her out on a date?
“Dinner, tomorrow night,” he suddenly blathered out. She wanted romance, he’d give her all he could manage.
“What?” Lizzy looked up at him. She’d only been half listening to him. Focused on the potion and showing Melinda how to stir it just right.
“Dinner. Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He wasn’t taking no, or I’ll have to think about it, for an answer. Lizzy didn’t reply, but her answer was obvious in the grin curving on her lips, and written in the blush of her cheeks.
“Okay. Stop stirring,” ordered Lizzy a few minutes later. She turned off the heat and the mixture stopped bubbling. “It has to sit and cool for an hour at room temperature.”
As the hour passed, the trio worked together to clean up the kitchen. Michael and Emily came home; she sprinted up the stairs to their bedroom without so much as a hello to anyone, and he strode into the kitchen a mix of heat and ice reaching for a bottle of whiskey.
“You guys are home a little early? Doesn’t the bookstore close later?”
Michael poured a hot, downed it, followed by a second. Some of the fire left him, leaving behind a somber, lost-looking man. He aimed the whiskey at his shot glass prepping a third round.
Lizzy grabbed a shot glass and thrust it out at him. “Me too please. I’ve never tried it before. I’ve been a bit hung up on the tequila.” Some of the forlornness lifted in Michael’s gaze and he poured her a shot. Michael downed his, releasing a burning, but satisfied, breath. The booze giving him the instant downer he needed.
Lizzy almost dipped her nose into the shot glass, sniffing in the aroma. She flicked her tongue into it, tasting it at the tip and licked her lips, excited. She tossed it back, loving the sting that followed across her tongue down her throat and released a guttural sigh.
“God, that’s so freaking good. Booze today is way better than in my day!”
Charlie growled under his breath. Her throaty sigh was enticing and both he and his wolf wanted to be the only reason for her doing that. Somehow, by the sly side-glance she made his way, he got the impression that is exactly what she wanted him to think. The woman was seriously asking for trouble.
Michael was so worked up about Emily he didn’t even sense the sexual tension between Charlie and Lizzy. He tapped his fingers on the countertop, agitated from head to toe. Although without the booze, it would have been fists hammering into a wall.
They waited until he finally got out what he wanted to say.
“We got in a fight, she closed the shop. We came home. Emily says I’m stalking her, and wants me to stop taking her to work and walking her home. She says she doesn’t need me to do that, vampire on the loose or not. She figures at this point, if she’s meant to die, or get invaded by some spirit, nothing will stop it.” He raised his hand stopping anyone from responding. “I’m just. I don’t... she refuses to mourn properly. And I know it’s because of me. And even so, I can’t bear to let her out of my sight. It scares me to death, just thinking about what might happen to her.”
Melinda wished she could help in some way. In her mind, they were a perfect couple, in love and would always be in love. But this love was breaking them. Every time she thought she was beginning to make sense of love, something got her opinions and realizations all bent out of shape.
Michael spun around, determined to head up to their room and confront her. Force her to see reason. Maybe if he got her angry enough, she’d finally give in. And at least get pissed. It would be better than this denial and refusal, she was living in.
“Michael,” called out Charlie after him. He stopped, turning. He wanted to tell Michael to give her space, to give himself some space. He’d never seen his brother such a mess. Instead, he said, “We don’t need your help tonight.”
Michael’s entire body deflated. He was leaving his family to fend for themselves, in order to watch over a woman who didn’t want him around. His Emily... thought he was smothering her. And God damn it, he was, but he refused to stop until she’d mourned. Properly.
He gazed toward the upstairs unable to leave her alone. However, he could give her som
e space, without leaving the house. And try to be of use to his siblings. “I’ll be in the study.” He shifted directions and trudged into William’s sanctuary. It was eerily quiet without the vampire, or his crackling fire he kept around for company.
Michael sat on the edge of a chair for a few minutes, gathering himself. After a bit, he moved to a stack of boxes that had been delivered by the cleaners. Well, he should say Josh since his dad retired. Michael grabbed a couple of them and lugged them over to William’s desk.
The front door slammed, alerting him to the others’ departure.
Only him and Emily in the house.
But it might as well have been just him.
He opened the first box, peering inside, wondering what he’d find. Wondering if this wasn’t a big mistake and maybe he should wait and go confront Emily. Again. He fought the urge and starting rifling around inside the box, taking things out. With every item he removed, his heart broke a little more. He had no idea what was still holding it together at this point.
Why hadn’t any of them seen it?
Caught on, to what the Jordan’s were up to?
It was their job for Christ’s sake!
The box was filled with notebooks containing collected information attained by Anthony and Eva Jordan, on all things Howard. And the Isle. And the power source.
They’d been spying on them a lot longer than this past summer.
A wet droplet splashed onto one of the notebooks and he let the book fall, keeping himself upright by holding onto the edge of the table. He’d tried to keep this from happening. He needed to be strong for Emily. He couldn’t fall to pieces. Not now.
If only they’d questioned the Jordan’s presence on the Isle.
If only they’d been smart enough to see the signs, so obvious now.
If only his dad hadn’t died.
If only William was here.
If only he had his Emily back.
If only... those two words could go to hell!
