Wicked Good Witches- Complete Series Bundle

by Ruby Raine

  She was on her feet and fighting alongside two of the trainers and the male student they’d just assisted earlier. Damn it though. Those two rogue witches they’d clashed with had fought their way back in.

  Lisbeth’s head snapped, a low growl filtering into the woods. The werewolf had awakened and gotten out if its magical cage. She crawled her way away from the fighting, determined to take down the wolf again before it got close enough to help its fellow attackers, or hurt someone. The mere idea of this monster reaching the village gave her the courage to try.

  She climbed to her feet and ran toward the beast grabbing its attention with a few spells aimed right at it. All direct hits, but none strong enough to knock the thing out. It staggered, but kept on its feet, and now plodded after her away from the others.

  Good, it was taking the bait.

  Damn, she was the bait.

  And alone.

  With a gigantic werewolf clambering closer behind her.

  What the hell had she been thinking?

  She bent around, shooting off spells as she ran.

  The wolf was getting wiser, catching on. It ducked and darted out of the way, gaining on her. Lisbeth’s heart skipped a few beats threatening to stall out completely. Between the full paced running and the fear, there was no room for a single beat more.

  Up ahead she noticed a low-hanging branch, and raced for it, jumping up and pulling it with her, and as she landed, let it fly... her feet hit the ground running and she ordered her wasted muscles to keep working. The branch slammed directly into the beast’s neck and it made a freakish choking sound, its cruel hands going to its throat.

  It didn’t give her much of a headstart.

  She refused the urge to watch the momentary misery she caused the wolf, the ugly snarl and vicious gnashing of teeth hungry for a kill, plenty of incentive to keep running no matter how exhausted her body was, physically. She ran harder than she’d ever imagined possible of herself. Using every thin space between trees and bushes the wolf was too large to fit through, forcing it to go around, or over. All the while trying to figure out which direction she was running in.

  In the dark, running this fast, she had no idea if she was taking the monster closer to the village, or toward the ocean. Every shadow started to look the same.

  A flash of movement. To her right.

  Had to be foe as no friend of hers moved so fast.

  It scooted between trees in short bursts of blurry movement.

  At any moment she was going to be taken down, if not by the wolf gaining on her, this new enemy keeping her stride.

  A skid, a thud, and a cry behind her, from the werewolf.

  Stop?

  Look?

  Keep going?

  Pass out?

  That seemed like a viable option right now if she wasn’t able to catch her breath soon. She needed to start running on a much more regular basis. Logic told her to keep moving. Her damn curiosity and sense of duty told her to stop and make sure of what was happening. So she did. Breathlessly.

  The werewolf was on the ground, writhing in pain. Snarling. Kicking out at some unseen force who moved so swiftly it was almost tranquil in its wind-like movements. Lisbeth stood her ground, palm at the ready, lungs heaving in the effort of running, mixed with the flood of panic and adrenaline bursting out of her.

  She gasped. Tranquil, was the worst word choice ever.

  A pale menace with fangs and two legs materialized between her and the werewolf wearing a long fitted coat that swirled around his calves with its sudden stopping motion.

  A vampire.

  Goodnight, Lisbeth! Lights out!

  Of course it was a vampire. Few other beings moved so fast.

  And why aren’t you running already?

  Because my legs have nothing left and my lungs are about to explode.

  And you’d prefer to die by bloodletting?

  Like I’d outrun him.

  And just because he was killing the werewolf didn’t mean her life was safe.

  She had little to fend off a vampire other than the break of day, which was hours away! But the vampire ignored her, its feral gaze locked onto the eyes of the werewolf.

  “Yes,” he hissed at the dying beast. “I found you just like I promised.” He chomped his teeth at the hairy beast now fighting for breath. The vampire had bitten the wolf, a death sentence there was no getting out of.

  The vampire was confident in his stance. His deadly stare reveling in the last living moments of the wolf. He must not be part of this attacking crew; the rest were unkempt and wild looking. This vampire was, for lack of a better word, debonair. A magnificent button down jacket that fitted perfectly around the pale one’s body, with a high collar that no doubt hid the bite on his neck from being turned. But he was clean. Well groomed. And though his hair a touch long and disheveled, it was almost purposely so.

  And why the hell am I standing here gawking? And thinking about what he looks like?

  Lisbeth needed to get her common sense and body to start working, and run. Like she’d get far. Regardless, she should at least try.

  The werewolf took its last breath, its giant body heaving in the effort.

  The vampire let out a satisfied snarl. And in deliberate rotation pivoted and locked eyes with Lisbeth like she was the most delectable thing he would suck dry, ever.

  Her hand swung up to her neck out of a moment of pure terror and sureness that her death sentence was now switched from being torn apart by a werewolf, to being sucked dry by this vampire. Even if she’d left a minute ago this thing would have caught her scent and followed. She was easy prey for such a predator.

  In a single blink, he was poised a breath away from her, his exhales like ice against her skin. He was a good six inches taller, coal gray eyes burrowing into hers with an intensity that made her instantly small and helpless. A pathetic damsel in distress. His mental examination of her might as well have stripped her bare. She shuddered, though not from any chill.

  No man had ever made her so instantly vulnerable and raw. Even the coldness of his skin so close, did nothing to stave off the heat simmering in her veins from his drilling mental exploration.

  Or it might be all the running on a hot summer night. Yeah, that was it. She was not having seriously unhealthy reactions to a freaking vampire who was preparing to make a late night snack out of her.

  “Who are you?” The curiousness of his voice startled her.

  He backed away just a few inches. Actually backed away after she flinched.

  Probably how he gets his fun.

  Makes his victims think they have a chance by pretending to give a little space.

  That, or he gets a kick out of learning the names of his victims before he sucks them dry.

  She raised her palm already aware of how useless her magic would be against him.

  He grinned. And followed it up with a humored laugh.

  “I just saved your life.”

  “You’re telling me you don’t plan on taking it now?”

  “I dare say I don’t believe I could, even if I was starving.” If Lisbeth wasn’t wrong, she saw shock in his features because of this. “Who are you? What is your name?” His accent was from another land. Not America. England, she guessed. And far too exotic for her liking. Well actually, to her liking. Damn it.

  She straightened her body and lifted her chin in defiance.

  “I’m a witch who protects this island and its inhabitants from monsters like you.” Her breath trembled, but she refused to give into the fear that her life was about to come to an untimely end.

  “Feisty. Brave. A fighter. My favorite, and so difficult to find in your kind. You’d do well like me.”

  “Don’t you dare! I’d rather die.” She stuck out her neck, free for him to suck her dry if that was his intent. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, followed by a flickering of emotions too hard to decipher. Though dark, the moonlight sparkled in the coal gray staring back at her. He stepped b
ack again.

  “You are a worthy human. A rarity in this life. Be well.” He tipped his head in a farewell bow.

  A trick. It had to be. She backed up a step. “You’re letting me go?”

  He backed away with a grin tinged with wickedness.

  “Yes, I am letting you live. But I’ve changed my mind, and added a condition.”

  “Of course you have.”

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Tell me yours.”

  He growled through his teeth; it raked through like a purr. She tried not to jump when he leaned toward her, bending his head forward in a bow. “My name is Grayson Moone. Vampire aged one-hundred-eleven. Human aged until twenty-six. Killer of those who kill...”

  “Wh-what does that mean?”

  “Ah ah ah.”

  She sighed heavily, her nerves deflating a little. Probably not a good thing because it meant she was letting her guard down. Not smart.

  “My name is Lisbeth Eugenia Deane. Witch. Assistant to the Howard Witches, protectors of The Demon Isle. And of all innocent lives.”

  “We have that in common.”

  “I highly doubt that. You looked like you wanted to eat me a minute ago, and I’d wager that has not changed.”

  Grayson’s grin morphed into a wickedly tempting simper. “Could it be you are not so innocent as you believe? I have fangs, and I live in a body created to take down my prey. But I promise you, Lisbeth.” He stepped closer. “Eugenia.” A little closer. “Deane.” He was right back where he started. “I am not a monster. Not like you think.” He was ogling her like prey. Delicious prey.

  “Like that werewolf?” she argued, unable to control the slight tremble his closeness caused. “What did he ever do to you?”

  “He was about to tear you apart.”

  She sucked in ready to... to what? Argue? He was right.

  She exhaled stubbornly.

  “That wolf killed someone dear to me. An innocent as you’d call them. I promised revenge.” Grayson displayed his palm toward the dead wolf in a silent, revenge accomplished. “Believe me, my dear Lisbeth, it was most deserved.”

  “I’ve never met a vampire with any sort of conscience.” Her tone indicated she didn’t believe it possible.

  “I did not kill you.”

  “Yet.”

  “Not all my kind are monsters. We are cursed to live off blood, but some of us only drink and kill those who deserve it.”

  “And what gives you the right to decide who’s deserving?” Now she was just getting pissed at the arrogance of the male. And again, he grinned, getting some secret thrill out of her daring defiance in the face of a vampire who could end her life in the mere passing of a breath. “You do have a choice,” she continued boldly. “Why not let fate handle those you deem worthy of your fangs and live off the blood of animals?”

  “So you’d rather I kill a precious cuddly puppy versus one who rapes females? Or murders children?” he interrogated, like the idea of allowing these true monsters to live was the real crime.

  She gave a start, not expecting him to reply in such a distasteful manner.

  “No. Never a... a... puppy. Or pet. Just, you could live off the blood of animals who already have death sentences because they are food for humans. You would not need to kill puppies. And as for the woman haters and child killers... well, they’ll get what’s coming to them, either in this life, or the afterlife.”

  “You speak this like you are certain this is true.”

  “I am.”

  “How?”

  “I just... am.”

  “Ah. Faith in a world after this one.”

  “Is that wrong?”

  “No. Not for you. There is nothing after this life for my kind.”

  “And you know this with certainty I suppose?”

  He grinned again. “I imagine our faith is equal in our beliefs.”

  Lisbeth needed to get hold of herself, she was having an argument with a vampire. A moral conversation with an immoral creature of the night. And yet something in her gut spoke to her, told her he wasn’t a lost cause. Just lost.

  Wasn’t it her duty to save those who are lost? Wasn’t he technically an innocent, in some way? Duty versus the desire to survive were fighting hard. Common sense dueling madly with insanity to even think this a good idea. And there was another emotion thrown into the mix, something much more dangerous. Her heart was trying to have an opinion, and that was the worst possible idea yet.

  Grayson stalked around her, each step curious and testing. Just what he was testing, she had no guess.

  “You promised not to kill me,” she reminded fervently as he circled behind her.

  “I do not wish to. But I dare say the smell of you is so intoxicating. I can only imagine the taste of you to be even more so. I imagine it would be life altering.”

  Lisbeth’s body betrayed her mind, strange feelings she’d never had before percolating under her skin like a fire trying to find oxygen. The image in her mind of the vampire with his fangs at her throat did things to her no human man had ever done.

  Or should do! What the hell was wrong with her?

  He ended his exploration and came to stand in front of her again, his body tense, his eyes fluttering closed as if savoring something both heavenly, and hellish. Lisbeth didn’t for a moment believe he’d actually leave her alive, or unscathed.

  In swift reaction she crouched, reached into her boot and grabbed a knife. She rose, ready to stab. And damn all that was sane! Her hand refused to follow through with the movement and strike.

  Stupid, stupid girl! She shouted at herself.

  The vampire’s eyes flew open to the sight of her hesitating to stab him.

  The moment of delay would cost her.

  In movements her human eyes did not see, only feel, Grayson was behind her, the knife on the ground, her arms pinned behind her back. His lips, far too close to that vein pulsing with life in her neck.

  Ragged breaths forced their way out of her overworked lungs.

  His growl promised pain. Good pain. Pleasurable pain.

  “Never hesitate, Lisbeth. If you’re going to kill, kill.”

  “I won’t forget next time.”

  “Next time, hmm...”

  “There won’t be a next time,” she argued. “Because you’re going to let me go, and you are going to leave the Isle.” She spoke like it was already decided and done. He growled again.

  “If I had my way, and no morals, what I’d do is strip those clothes off your body and ravage you unlike any human man ever could.”

  She let out a gasp, a mix of fear and lust. God damn the vampire. And damn her body for having a mind of its own and not listening to logic. She’d never had such a physical reaction to any male before. But no other had ever given her a second look before. Or spoke to her with such raw male honesty.

  This is no normal man, she reminded herself. He’s a killer.

  Grayson sucked in the enthralling smell of her. “You can’t hide your true feelings. I can smell it all over you.” Lisbeth didn’t struggle against him; it would only rile him further. And if she was truthful, the closeness of him was doing something to her. A bit like having too many drinks, or being put under a spell. Which wasn’t possible as vampire gifts like persuasion, did not work on witches. And that meant these reactions were all hers.

  “Let me go.”

  “That didn’t sound like you meant it. It was feeble.” He nibbled her neck. “Your body says different, Lisbeth...” he drew out her name like he was sucking in the taste of her.

  “I did mean it. Let. Me. Go.”

  “You are a woman no human man will ever tame. No weak minded fool would ever be enough for you, would they? No.” He answered his own question wildly. “You need a stronger, more confident specimen. One who can give you everything you need.” To prove his point, he pinned her arms between his stomach and her back, his arms gliding around her waist pulling her tight against him. The pure maleness of him
promised so much more than pleasure. Total and utter wild satisfaction.

  Without meaning to, her body melted into him. Her neck opening for his lips, which drew across her skin like ice striking fire. Somehow this creature had enthralled her. Used some magic that did work against witches.

  It was not her. She refused to believe it.

  Voices.

  Someone was approaching.

  “I will find you again, My Lisbeth.” His tone made it sound final. Done. Decided. And so deeply personal.

  In another blink she was staggering, trying to keep herself upright. Her hand went to her throat, her breaths heavy and loaded with a need she’d never experienced before. Pulses of electric lust pumping through her.

  How did the vampire do that to her? How had she allowed him to?

  She twisted, searching in all directions, but he was gone.

  Footsteps grew heavier, and a few seconds later two of the trainers rocketed into view.

  “Lisbeth. Oh, thank God. You’re safe... Oh my!” He spied the dead werewolf.

  She shook herself out the stupor the unearthly fanged man had left her in.

  “I struck it with too many spells to count and then, and then...” what did she tell them? There was no hiding a vampire had made this kill. “A vampire killed it. Bit the thing.”

  They gasped, palms at the ready.

  “It... left,” she lied. The first lie she’d ever told in her life, and yet not a complete lie. He had left, just not the Isle. She didn’t think. She didn’t hope. And wasn’t that the scariest and most thrilling thought ever?

  “At least you are safe,” one of the men stated. Both the men’s poses relaxing.

  “I’m fine. A little winded. A big scary dose of reality,” she admitted. “But fine.” Men liked it when she showed even an inch of female humility. But she was telling the truth as well. The key was knowing when to let this part of her show and when to keep it locked up.

  One of them put a hand on her shoulder. “You did well. Very well, Lisbeth. You should be proud of your accomplishments today. Even more so that you’re alive to make it home.”

  She sucked in, letting go the moment of unexpected adulation. “Did someone not make it?”

  The two trainers looked between each other. The one dropped his arm from her shoulder.