A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Books 1-7 (Wicked Good Witches Seasons) (2 page)

Apparently, forgetting about the dream was not going to be easy. And admitting how desperately she wanted the dream to be real, and knowing it could never happen, left her balancing on a precarious edge of
never-going-to-have-this-itch-satisfied
-ness.

And the truth was, William did have a reflection. But it wasn’t one his own eyes could see. A side effect of the potion he’d just downed. It made looking into glass, difficult. Things had a fuzzy appearance. One bad side effect that was worth the freedom the potion gave him.

William noted the change in her heart rhythms again but ignored it, tossing Charlie a look that pleaded for his agreement in the matter of her affections.

“Maybe, Melinda, you would be better off saving your attention for someone your own age,” Charlie said, backing up the vampire. “And not to bring it back up again, but perhaps if you got out of the house more often…”

“Charlie, you’ve scared off all the guys I’ve dated!”
Except for jerkwad,
which she’d done herself apparently, by just being
her
. And there had only been two other guys she’d dated before him.
Three whole guys, twenty-one years old. So beyond pathetic.
Melinda tensed. She had chosen jerkwad, to give herself to. She was never going to forgive herself for that choice. But she hadn’t wanted to carry the label virgin anymore. How stupid that label seemed now. She still felt like a virgin. At least she hadn’t told jerkwad… not that the fact redeemed her decision at all.

She pictured seeing jerkwad’s face if she’d told him he was her first…
Ugh.
Thank God I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut. If not my legs…

She put her stubborn gaze back on. “Charlie, between you, Michael, and William, drilling my dates with questions no normal human would comprehend, it’s no wonder they never call back for second dates.” She lashed out, preferring to believe it was them and not her, driving her dates away. But how could it not be her? She just wasn’t dating material. Or perhaps the other two had just wanted what she’d given jerkwad, and when she didn’t put out…

Dating sucks.

But she’d blame it on her brothers, just the same.

Charlie patted her shoulder. “I’m just looking out for you, Kiddo.”

“Well, you can’t have it both ways,” she argued hotly. “If I leave the house and start dating more, you have to accept the guys I go out with. No more scaring them away.”

“Okay. You’re right. Why don’t you go out now? I can clean up this mess.”

Melinda shook her head, a hesitant tingle creeping into her gut, dousing the heat that the William dream had collected there. Talking about leaving was easy, but actually leaving the house was a much scarier thought. And going out with another guy she didn’t know well… disaster waiting to happen.

“I made the mess, I’ll clean it up. Besides, it’s sort of a badge of honor, first time making the potion for My William and all. I just hope I got it right.” 

Charlie threw her a look that said,
you’re making excuses,
but let it slide as William dramatically rushed to the front kitchen window. He tore off his pullover revealing his chiseled hairless chest and flung open the curtains, the bright morning sunlight flooding the room, exposing him to potentially fatal rays.

Both Melinda and Charlie stood wide-eyed, waiting to smell smoke, or see flames erupt. Instead, William’s mouth turned into the slightest of smiles.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Melinda shouted. “What if the potion hadn’t worked?”

“There is only one way to find out if the potion did work.” 

“But you could have tested it on a finger, not your entire body!” she protested.

“I have complete faith in you, Melinda.” William pulled his shirt back over his head.

She made a face, knowing he was just trying to prove a point, by agreeing with Charlie. She was a bright, beautiful, and talented young woman who needed to find a life outside of the Howard Mansion. But they were the only ones who had such thoughts. A life outside the mansion was unpredictable, and too often laced with trouble. And only made Melinda wish she was safely locked in her bedroom. A hot bath, a glass of wine, and endless daydreaming was all she needed.

And dang it! William had just been standing in the kitchen, shirtless. And she’d been too stunned by his attempt at burning himself that she hadn’t even enjoyed his magnificently chiseled perfection. She shivered at the thought of his cold skin pressing against her own. The heat started pooling again.

Why did William have to be an off limit vampire?

Physically, he was the epitome of perfection, at least in her eyes. Tall. On the thin side but not wiry. A first glance wouldn’t tell you instantly that he was stronger than any human man. That awareness came from the confidence he exuded in every movement he made. The draw of his gaze, the pull of his smile, the very manner in which he carried himself just strutting down the sidewalk. All things, which depending on his mood, either blanketed you in complete security, or emitted predatory threats that warned…
I wouldn’t walk down any dark alleys alone, if I were you…
 

More than all that, Melinda knew him. Trusted him. Hell, he was her best friend. Her confidant. Why couldn’t real life be as easy as her dream life? Or as steamy…

Melinda kept up her stubborn front. “You haven’t tested the potion completely, William. It’s the other function that’s the really tricky part.”

“I will be out taking a stroll if you need me,” the vampire responded tersely.

Melinda spoke quite seriously as he departed. “If anyone suddenly realizes you’re a vampire that has lived in this town for over a hundred years, and hasn’t aged… come home at once and I’ll try again.” 

Getting the potion just right was usually Charlie’s job as he was the most practiced at making potions out of the three siblings. But after a heated argument with his brother, Michael, he had abruptly left for a fishing trip and had forgotten to make William’s masking potion. They always kept an emergency vial of it, just in case, but Melinda had wanted to try her hand at making it instead. 

As long as made correctly, and taken every three months, the masking potion allowed William not only to walk in the daylight, but allowed him to live freely, leading an almost normal life.

The potion kept people in the town from realizing he did not age. They just knew him as William Wakefield, longtime friend to the Howard family; one of The Demon Isles’ founding families.

In addition, four years previously, William had temporarily, and unexpectedly, become guardian of the three siblings after their parents had mysteriously disappeared during a hunting trip into White Pines National Park. A place frequented by many tourists on the Isle. Not that the siblings needed a guardian seeing as Charlie was twenty-two at the time. But they had needed William, and he had been their parent’s longest and most trusted friend.

Some locals believed that the sibling’s parents had befallen some terrible accident, the type usually associated with careless tourists who refused to heed repeated warnings. Like how one misstep on the rocky cliffs might send you plunging to your death, or how fast you could find yourself in trouble when the tide came in and suddenly you’re stuck on the one rock that’s just barely sticking out of the water, or worse, in a cave that now has no exit.

However, a handful of longtime locals were aware of the truth: that
hunting
meant their parents were searching for The Demon Isle’s magical power source… a source that to this day, had yet to be located; even by the many generations of Howards to have come and gone from the Isle. All the siblings were certain of, is that the search had claimed the lives of their parents, just as it had claimed the lives of numerous Howard Witches before them.

But it was this very power source that the Howard siblings also defended, often putting their own lives on the line to protect. It was what their family had always done: protect the source from being discovered and falling into the wrong hands.

Of equal importance were the incessant attempts by various supernatural beings that came to the Isle in hopes of drawing on that power, or overthrowing the Howards and claiming the Isle for themselves, therefore putting the locals and the tourists in constant danger.

Dangers that newer locals opted to ignore or pass off as strange, but somehow explainable, events. Many, of course, had no problem exploiting the Isle’s mystical draw, now making it a top vacation spot for fans of the supernatural and paranormal. This only complicated the lives of the siblings as these fans often got more trouble than they bargained for.

Charlie offered again to help clean up the kitchen. 

“I can handle it,” Melinda said. “You should get unpacked, maybe take a shower.” She wrinkled her nose at his fishy stench.

“I should have been here to help you.” His voice held guilt as he grabbed half-filled vials and dried herbs, returning them to their cupboards. Melinda didn’t argue, she enjoyed her brother’s company.

“For your knowledge,” she explained after a bit, “I did get out while you were away. I went on a patrol with William.”

“That’s not getting out,” her brother argued.

“Is too.”

“We patrol at night. And patrolling is work.”

“Yes, but there’s sometimes still people around.”

“Work is not a life, Melinda. You need friends. You need to get out and have fun. What about the friends you used to go to school with?” Charlie asked. “That guy you went out with a few months ago…”

Jerkwad, or guy before jerkwad.
“They’ve all moved away, gone to college,” she claimed quickly. “And what’s wrong with hanging out with my brothers? Or William? And there’s Emily...”

Charlie snorted. “When she comes to the house to see Michael. I don’t want to push you, Melinda, but like you said earlier, you’re twenty-one. You should be out on the beach, partying, going on dates, and getting into trouble.” He thought about that for a minute. “Okay, make that partying lightly but... you get what I mean.”

“I’m trying, Charlie.”

“I know, Kiddo.” He saw the uneasiness in her eyes. “Just keep taking little steps and even though we give you a hard time, screw us! Go have some fun.” 

“Yeah, okay. Fun. It’s my top priority,” she forced, with fake enthusiasm.

Charlie didn’t push it further. Afraid if he did, the only place he’d find his sister is locked in her bedroom.

CHAPTER TWO

Michael got out of the house as fast as possible, making his way toward the café he was sure Emily would be exiting at any minute. She always stopped for coffee and a crème horn on her way to work.

He heard the ding of a door opening and out she stepped. It calmed him, immediately bettering his mood, as Emily emitted brightness and happiness.

“Michael,” she called out upon seeing him. “What are you up to this morning?” Her southern drawl was muffled by the swallowing of coffee.

He caught up to her. “Hi, Em. Thought I’d walk you to work.”

“That’s so sweet of you.” She grinned widely. A grin that shot warmth into his core. She’d done that to him since the day they’d met, just under five years before.

She reached up and tussled his newly cut hair. Not one hair moved against her touch. Each firmly in its place, almost as if Michael had ordered each hair to its position with the threat of punishment if they disobeyed.

She chuckled, but told him, “I like it. It’s very
you
.”

“You think? The stylist almost talked me out of it. She kept running her fingers through my hair, trying to change my mind.”

“That’s just because she thinks you’re hot.” So did every woman on the Isle. Including far too many tourists. And even a few guys… it was hard to rise to the top of the competition for Michael’s affections.

“She did keep me in that chair for a ridiculous amount of time,” he noted.

“Face it, if they’re single and from the Isle… make that, any woman alive that’s stepped foot on the Isle… they want you.”

He wanted to blurt out if that included her as well, but bit his tongue. He didn’t need to ask that question. Her answer screamed at him silently.
I’ve always wanted you.
 

“It suits you well,” Emily said of his new hairstyle. “Truth be told, the shoulder length locks weren’t right for you. And this style makes that baby face you tote around completely irresistible.”
Kissable
, was what she was really thinking.

He blushed a little. Always did when she flirted with him. He would have liked nothing more than to take hold of her hand and walk her to work, to kiss those peach colored lips until they were swollen. To claim them for his own.

But he did not.

“It was definitely time for something new,” he told her.

“Well, no girl can resist that face, no matter what your hair looks like.” She played down her flirting. She might have found his face kissable, but she’d never dared. “So what do you have lined up tonight, two dates? Three? One right after the other…”

“Ha. Very funny.” He rolled his eyes as they walked to her store. “Had three dates in one night, one time, almost a year ago, and you’re never going to let me live it down, are you? God! That night was jacked. Ended so very badly.”

Emily laughed. “Good thing I was around to come to your rescue. I guess it’s my job to remind you of your past, and keep you out of trouble.” She winked, toying with him.

She really wished it was her job.

He really wished it was, too.

“Actually, I haven’t been on a date in weeks,” he admitted.

“You? Michael Howard, dateless…”

He chuckled. “Just haven’t been in the mood.”

“Charlie, still?” she questioned knowingly.

He shrugged.

“You’re still arguing I take it.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Charlie got back this morning and I just don’t want to be in the same room as him. Don’t want to talk to him. Don’t want to hear his nagging friggin’ voice, all condescending, because I’m not as into this lifestyle as he is.
My brother
Charlie
… talk about Mr. Perfect, can do no wrong in the eyes of anyone. Everything he says just irritates the shit out of me right now. But hey… enough bitching for one morning. I enrolled in classes,” he announced, ending his tirade and starting a new subject.

“Really? That’s great, Michael.” She gulped, this revelation catching her off guard. She tried to sound excited and upbeat, but Michael knew she was disappointed by this news. Her smile never faded, but he sensed the brightness of it, lessened. Her eyes dancing just a little less.

Emily realized she’d given herself away and tore her gaze off him, her cheeks fiery with embarrassment.

“It’s not for a while yet. Summer’s just started really. Fall’s still a ways away.” He hated hurting her. It left an empty pit in his gut.

“I’m really happy for you,” she told him. She meant it. She didn’t want to see him leave the Isle, but she wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. And he wasn’t, here.

“Thanks, Em. So… have you ever thought about going back to college?”

“You know I can’t, Michael. I left because Dad needs me here. And he’s stubborn about moving anywhere else. I really don’t know why that is, but…”

“Sorry. It was dumb of me to even bring it up. Of course you have to be here.” They were at her bookstore. “I guess I’ll see you later, Em.”
Goddamn idiot. That’s what I am.

Hurting people. Disappointing people.

These were things he excelled in, by not living up to people’s expectations of him. Expectations he didn’t want to live up to. And never asked for.

“Later, Michael.”

“Yeah, bye, Em. Have a good day at work.”

“Thanks, see ya.” She tossed him another wide smile, and gave her lips a timid pull with her teeth. Lips he’d very much like to wrap his mouth around. And taste, and tug at. Instead, he fled.

She always made him feel bad for wanting to leave the Isle. Not on purpose, and she never once vocalized it. But he saw it in her eyes. Felt the cut of it in her words. Her reactions to him.

But what scared him most, is if there was one thing, one person, that could get him to stay on the Isle, it would be Emily Morgan.

But she would never ask him to stay. Never in a hundred years if she thought it would make him unhappy. She liked to make people happy, thrived on it, almost to a fault. Hell, she lit up the darkest room just by entering it. Everyone loved Emily. Him more so than anyone…
Shit!
He could not afford to think like that.

Michael forced the thought out of his mind. He’d never found the courage to come out and ask her. If she said yes, she did want him to stay, he’d never be able to leave. And he needed to leave. To get off this lame-ass hellhole of an island before he was sucked in so deep he never left. Or never explored the world. Like every other Howard that had come before him.

He didn’t want that fate. He didn’t ask for it.

Didn’t he get a say in his life, at all?

He looked up to see William not too far ahead, heading into the mansion. No doubt testing the potion. Which obviously worked. “Good job, Melinda.” Too bad there wasn’t a potion for getting his sister over her aversion to life outside the mansion.

His feet stopped moving for a moment. He held a breath.

He was going to have to go home and face Charlie. Face whatever this day brought him. Regardless, he was proud of his sister, she was getting better every day, without the help of any potions. Her panic attacks were less frequent. And cautiously, she was immersing herself back into the outside world.

Mainly, what this really meant was Michael didn’t need to stay on the Isle. They’d be fine without him.

##

William reappeared in the kitchen of the Howard Mansion, with Michael just behind.

“All went well?” Melinda asked the vampire.

“Yes. As expected, no one realizes I am
not
a thirty-one year old man.”

Melinda nodded satisfactorily, and turned to Michael. “You’re back sooner than I expected.”

“It was just a quick walk with Emily to work at the bookstore.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “I have been meaning to congratulate her on taking over the place,” he admitted, apologetically. “Once Renee retired a few months ago, Emily was the perfect replacement.”

“Yes. She is,” was all Michael acknowledged to Charlie’s attempt to engage him in conversation.

“And how did she like your new haircut?” Melinda inquired.

“What’s not to like?”

“Oh get over yourself!” She shot back in amusement.

Although brothers, Charlie and Michael didn’t share many common traits.

Michael was wiry, yet athletic, with smooth, slightly flushed skin. He rarely had to shave. He was also slower than Melinda when it came to getting ready in the morning, even though his outfits consisted mostly of jeans, sandals, and some kind of pullover shirt. However, the hours spent getting every strand of hair on his head into its perfect place, were too many to count.

Charlie, on the other hand, had enough hair for two men. His dusty brown locks were thick and disheveled, falling just above his shoulders, and his facial hair grew fast enough that he could shave twice in one day. More often than not, he had a couple days growth on his face. He found most shirts constricting being that he had the shoulders of a football player, and preferred on nice days to wear tank tops and khaki shorts. When the weather cooled, he simply added a flannel shirt, always with the sleeves rolled up carelessly. 

The only similar traits they did share: dazzling midnight blue eyes and a killer smile that knocked any girl’s socks off. Both things inherited from their father, Jack Howard.

The kitchen phone rang loudly.

“That would be the Mack line,” Charlie stated, grabbing the phone, grateful for the distraction. “Have I even been home a full hour yet?” he asked no one in particular.

“Oh, I need to talk to Mack before you hang up, okay?” Melinda blurted out.

Charlie nodded that he’d heard her while speaking into the phone, “Hello, Mack! How can we help the sheriff of The Demon Isle this morning?”

“Oh good, you’re home, Charlie. Hope the fishin’ trip went well.” She gave him no chance to reply. “I’m actually calling for your brother. Afraid I need a death readin’.”

“Just say where and I’ll send Michael right over.”

Michael sighed, relieved at the sound of his name.  “Any excuse to get out of here,” he grumbled under his breath. “Even if it is work.”

“The morgue,” Charlie aimed at Michael. He spoke to Mack, “A local or tourist this time?”

“That’s what I’m hoping Michael can tell me, actually. You see, all I got is
drybones
…” Her tone turned ominous.

“A skeleton. I see.”

“Yeah, a first. Not a stitch of meat on’em.”

“Michael will be right over to help.” Charlie was about to hang up when he remembered his sister needed to speak with the sheriff. He tossed Melinda the phone.

“Hiya, Mack,” she greeted. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate, but I’m afraid I have another job for you.”

“Anything you need, Sweety. You just tell me what it is.”

“There’s a back door at the Fishhook Seafood Company that’s broken. A lock keeps jamming and if they don’t fix it, in three days someone who works there dies because it won’t open. They are working after the place closes and there’s a fire in the kitchen. Don’t know what starts it, but you might want to check that out to.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’m on it! Just consider me your own personal dream killer,” the sheriff added with a haughty laugh.

Melinda let out a dark chuckle.

Mack disconnected.

Charlie and Michael stared at Melinda, awaiting explanation. 

“Yeah yeah. Another dream. I took care of it didn’t I?”

“You’re supposed to tell us when you have a dream, so we can help,” Charlie reminded gently. Instant guilt consumed him. He’d been gone. Out of reach part of the time. She couldn’t have told him even if she’d needed to.

“I did. I told William, and we decided it was best handled by Mack. What are we going to do? Walk up to the owners of the Fishhook and say, hey, Melinda, yeah that girl everyone already thinks is a freak, also has prophetic dreams and last night, she dreamt your broken back door would cause someone to die?”

“Point noted. They’ve only been on the Isle for a couple years and are not aware of what goes on around here. However,” started Charlie, “how can we decide if it’s something we can or should handle if you don’t tell us? I trust William’s opinions, of course, and I wasn’t home. But you can tell us too, Melinda. Just remember that, okay.”

“Maybe she can make up her own mind,” Michael defended.

“This isn’t about you and me, Michael,” Charlie breathed out heavily.

“I’m just saying she’s not a kid. And who made you captain of this frigging ship? What rule says we have to tell
you
every little thing that happens?”

Charlie closed his eyes, searching for a reply that would not make the situation worse. But all he wanted to do was grab his brother by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. An annoyed groan slipped across his lips and he opened his eyes to see Michael booking it out of the kitchen in a huff.