A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Books 1-7 (Wicked Good Witches Seasons) (88 page)

“The idea of waiting…” Charlie shook his head, giving in with an anxious sigh. “How do we figure out what’s going on, then? If the Feyk and Eva, or Riley I guess, somehow managed to catch William off guard, and took
him
as their prisoner, what chance do
we
have?”

“The exact reason we cannot fly in and attack now,” explained Jack. “It won’t be easy, knowing people you love are in the hands of the enemy, but we must prepare. Battles do not get won by rushing in. And let’s give William a little more time. He’s gotten out of some pretty hairy situations before. He might not be caught, just investigating. We don’t know for sure, yet.” 

“Okay,” accepted Charlie. “You’re right, Dad. It’s just... the thought of Melinda and Emily, Lucas, or William being in the hands of a mad woman capable of killing on a whim is shredding my insides.”

“You got that right,” agreed Michael.

Jack looked at his two sons, gazing back at him like two lost lambs, soaking in his every word as gospel, as if he had every right answer, and every right move.

Did he? He had no idea...

CHAPTER 2

Sunrise arrived with no sign of, or contact with, William.

No word from Melinda, Emily or Lucas.

It left a dark pit expanding inside each of them. 

Jack Howard was starting to feel a bit more like himself again, although he was glad they were busy; it kept him focused on helping his sons, rather than the fact that he’d been out of their lives for so long and that his wife had died.

Mack arrived just before dawn, with no news other than all of a sudden like, the
strange looking men,
a.k.a. Feyk sightings, had stopped. Completely. No new sightings all night.

No one assumed this was good news. After that, Mack spent the next hour visiting with Jack. As shocked and pleased as the rest of them to see her lifelong friend alive and well.

It was hard to rejoice in the fact that their father was home when people they cared about deeply were missing, and presumed prisoners of either Eva Jordan, the Feyk or most likely, both.

They had spent the night in William’s study, making various plans of attack based on numerous different possible scenarios. Jack was certain that their enemies would reach out to them, somehow, at some point, with demands. That they were holding everyone as leverage... they assumed, to make certain he opened the door to the power source.

After a few cups of coffee, Mack announced she had to leave.

“I’ll expect you guys to keep me updated as things progress. I’ll do whatever I can to help. But as of thirty minutes from now, I’m on parade duty. Seems weird to be having a parade with all this bularky going on.”

“Parade?” questioned Charlie.

“It’s the Fourth of July,” reminded Mack.

“Right, one of the busiest days of the year for tourists to come to the Isle,” said Michael. A day they had planned spending together as a family this year. He’d even told Emily they’d make sure to get her father to tag along. A stabbing pain pinched his heart.

Mack nodded with a stiff huff. “This concerns me, too. A lot of extra people to look out for. But the Isle has the most famous fireworks display on the Maine coastline. Not like we can just cancel. People travel some long distances to see it, and it lights up the sky for miles.”

“And don’t forget about the noise, and all night parties,” noted Michael. Parties he used to frequent and enjoy.

Lizzy’s head shot up, a gasp on the cusp of her tongue. Her eye caught Charlie’s, and he nodded in silent agreement.

“What?” asked Michael, not catching up to their thinking.

Jack let out a sigh, getting it now too. “It would be the perfect distraction,” he reveled. “The entire island will be focused on the fireworks.”

“The Feyk might expect it,” warned Charlie. Still, he allowed himself a glimmer of hope. They were moving forward, coming up with a real plan.

“Even if they did expect it,” said Michael, understanding their idea now, “it would give us some cover, and keep the tourists out of harm’s way.” 

“It’s the best frigging idea we’ve come up with all night,” bellowed Lizzy.

“Can we get prepared in time?” Charlie asked his father. Just a short time ago he’d wanted to rush in and attack, now an entire day didn’t seem like it was enough time.

“I think whether the Feyk expect it or not, it’s a good cover. We’ll have darkness on our side. Possibly the element of surprise. The fireworks will cloak the sounds of a battle. And tourists will be safely watching the fireworks.”

Michael pursed his lips.

“You don’t agree?” Charlie asked.

“No, I think it’s a good plan as well, but will the fireworks give us enough time? The show lasts, what, about forty minutes or so?” he directed at Mack.

“Thereabouts, yes.”

“Everything would have to be timed so perfectly,” said Lizzy. “No mistakes. No surprises.”

“And when is there ever
no
surprises,” droned Charlie.

“What if I could get you more time?” asked Mack.

“How?” returned Michael.

“We get the locals to help.”

“That’s potentially dangerous,” worried Jack.

“I’m not talking about taking part in the battle. Just adding some time to the distraction. Perhaps starting the distraction earlier than anticipated...”

“You mean get the show going early, just in case the Feyk are expecting us to attack when the Isle’s show starts tonight?” confirmed Charlie.

She nodded.

“I don’t think they’d be expecting that,” agreed Jack.

“How exactly would the locals help out?” questioned Michael.

“By shooting off every damn firework they can get their hands on. I can make it rain fireworks all damn day and night if I need to.” She stopped and let out a hearty laugh. “I always knew all those confiscated fireworks would come in handy someday.”

“Yeah, plus most locals and tourists buy a ton to shoot off as well,” said Charlie. “They go off all night long most years.”

“But to start it early is a smart plan,” said Jack. “The Feyk would have no idea it wasn’t normal. It would give us our best chance to strike with any possibility of surprise on our side.”

“Or at the least, time it to
our
liking,” said Charlie.

“Yes,” agreed his father. “We control when it begins. It gives us the upper hand.” His eyes gleamed in agreement with his son. The plan was forming.

“I might need some help organizing,” advised Mack. “The locals will all be at the parade, if not in the parade… I’ll pass it along for them to meet me after.”

“Tell them to meet you at the Wicked Muddy Cafe,” suggested Michael, thinking back to what Grace had told him during her visit to White Pines. “I’ll go with you,” he offered. “Help spread the word and explain.” Grace had said the locals had been talking, wishing they could help in some way.

“Sounds good,” said Mack, nodding in approval. “I’ve been thinking too, even if we didn’t seek out the local’s help that we need to give them some warning. I think they have a right to know that the Isle’s under serious attack. They understand what living here means, but this is different. This hasn’t happened since…”

“Since my family started a war…” finished Lizzy on her behalf.

“Sorry. No offense. Just stating the facts.”

“I would too.”

Mack shrugged. “Should they be warned? What do you guys think? I don’t want to start a panic. We have a lot of extra people on the Isle with no idea that the fantasies they come here to revel in are actually real.”

Charlie and Michael turned to Jack. He in turn said, “What are your opinions, Boys?”

Charlie contemplated. “I think you’re right, Mack. But to what level they should be told…” he shook his head.

Michael agreed. “They should be told. They have a right to know. But I would impress the whole
no need to start a panic or mass evacuation
… not easy I realize, but I think I can help you with that. I’m kind of thinking we should figure out a way to close the park. Can’t chance tourists coming across the Feyk.” 

“That’s going to be a tall order, but I was thinking the same.” The sheriff nodded. 

Jack grinned, pleased. “You’ve always been good at this sort of thing, Michael.” He liked seeing his son take the reins, speaking to the townsfolk.

“Have I?” He always felt the opposite. Even if he had, he had never enjoyed it. Somehow, just now though, it felt right.

“Yes. You have a way of smoothing things over. I used to see it all the time between you and your siblings,” chuckled Jack.

“Guess that’s just the middle child in me,” he jabbed.

“Don’t discount your empathy, either, Son. It may not be an easy burden to carry but it will help you in a job like this. And frankly, Charlie, you’re good any many things but public speaking and public relations…” he shook his head wearing a bemused grin.

“No argument here,” agreed Charlie.

“Let me guess,” said Lizzy. “You lose your temper and go all wolfy on everyone.”

Charlie smirked and rolled his eyes at her simple, yet poignant, explanation of his temperament. “I’m much better on the front lines or behind the scenes.”

“Regardless,” said Jack. “It’s a good position for you, Michael. I see you doing well in this.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

God, he’s really back.

Michael couldn’t express what this did inside him.

He never realized just how much he missed his father. He cast an overwhelmed glance at his brother. The wore the same look.

Once they’d gotten through this day, and gotten everyone out of the clutches of the Feyk, and dealt with Eva Jordan… things would be different. A good different.

Jack caught Mack’s eye, her gaze penetrating, as if trying to read his mind.

Just what are you up to, Jack Howard?
Something she saw in his gaze disturbed her. Jack was always a doting father, but it felt like he was preparing his sons to continue on… alone. She shook it off, supposing they had to be prepared for any scenario.

“You ready then, Mr. Spokesman,” said the sheriff to Michael.

Michael shuddered. It sounded so official and final. Like he’d just been hired for a job he wasn’t even certain he was ready for or wanted. “I don’t have to wear a suit do I?”

Mack let out a sharp cackle. “C’mon, Kid. Although you’d look mighty damn fine in one. I’d sure as hell let my eyes linger.” She tossed him a playful wink.

Michael rolled his eyes and ventured toward the front door. “Wish me luck…” he called out, waving goodbye.

Mack cast a glance at the others. “We’re going to get everyone back, safe and sound. You all just remember that.” She followed Michael out the front door.

“Okay then,” started Charlie. “Lizzy, from what I’ve heard, you’re good at making potions. Would you mind helping me out? We’re going to need as many as we can make.”

“Of course.” She headed into the kitchen, making herself at home.

“William…” Charlie stopped himself, shaking his head. “Sorry. So used to William being here. So stupid of me…”

“Why don’t you go help Lizzy, Charlie,” said Jack. “If you don’t mind, I need a little time. I’ve got a few things I’d like to do and honestly now that I’m free of the Hunter, I’m starting to feel like I haven’t showered, shaved or changed my clothes in four years.” The excuse sounded lame, but he did need a bit of time alone. 

Charlie chuckled understandingly. “I can’t even imagine. We’ll be in the kitchen.”

Jack Howard headed to what he
hoped
was still his bedroom.

It was.

They hadn’t moved or changed a thing.
In four years
. All their clothes and belongings were in the same places they had always been. Maintained and cleaned, but gratefully, something that was as his memory remembered it.

He reached into a drawer and grabbed a notebook and pen.

He sat down at a small desk and started to write.

William
,

My longest friend in this world. I write this letter in case things tonight go badly and I don’t have the chance to speak with you in person. I realize in my short time back that I’m living on borrowed time.

First, I must thank you on behalf of Catherine and myself for looking out for our children after our sudden departure from your lives. I cannot express what your presence in their lives, means to me.
You have kept them alive and seen them through difficult times, and for this, I am forever grateful.

Second, there is something that’s become painfully obvious to me in my short hours back on the Isle. There is something I must ask of you…

Jack stopped and set down the pen and tossed the letter, leaning his head onto his hands. It tore at him, what he needed ask of William. He needed to think hard and fast on it, making certain he secured his children’s future, as well as the safety of The Demon Isle.