“Michael, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you go get some sleep.” Melinda put her hand on his shoulder softly.
Sleep… bed… alone without Emily. That wasn’t going to happen tonight.
“I understand you’re looking out for your family,” said Lizzy. “Your brother. I cannot blame you for that. But I promise you, I did not mean for this to happen. I certainly did not plan it.”
“I know. I…” Michael got up, his entire body wound tight. “Let’s not discuss this further tonight. We’re all tired.” That was saying it mildly. “The vamp is secure, he can’t get free.” He left and took off upstairs and a door slammed hard a minute later.
“Guest room,” whispered Melinda. He had not gone to his own bedroom.
Lucas eyed Lizzy. “You want a ride home?”
“No. There’s something I have to do first.”
“You want me to help you find him?” Lucas spoke of Charlie, assuming it’s what she meant.
She shook her head. “Just go home. I’ll be along.”
“Okay. See you in a bit then.” Melinda walked out with him. “You’ll be okay here on your own?” There was a lumbering effort in his tone.
She nodded. “Best I can be. And Michael’s right, Grayson can’t escape the cell. William made it himself so I trust it will keep him secure for the night. God, just realized I’m actually going to be on my own tonight. How did I end up the sane one?”
Lucas chuckled. “I could stick around, if you need company. Give your brothers a break.”
“No. Really. All good. I’ll probably fall asleep on the sofa in the study at some point, or just crawl into bed once dawn arrives. And Michael is upstairs, although I imagine about to pass out if not from exhaustion some bottle of booze.”
“If anything happens, I’m just a call away.”
“Thanks, Lucas. I appreciate that. And thanks for staying with me tonight.”
“I didn’t mind.”
She lifted her mouth in a, Yeah right, pose. “Needy girl cryathon didn’t scare you off?”
He grinned, only sincerity in his reply. “You had every right to each tear that fell.”
She cast him an exhausted smile.
“Goodnight, Melinda.”
“Night, Lucas.”
She sauntered back inside to find Lizzy gaping down the basement stairs. A bewildered gloss covering her eyes.
Melinda recognized that look.
“What are you going to do?”
Lizzy pivoted lethargically, letting out a breath the same speed.
“I have no idea. I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
“You mean one where you’re in love with two men at the same time? Both of which come with some sort of consequence?” Melinda came back in morose acknowledgment. “My brother, who fears he will turn you into a werewolf, and a vampire who just went on a killing rampage, but you have a history with.”
“That about sums it up,” she muttered unamused. “Any advice?”
This story was too close to home and still fresh in Melinda’s thoughts.
“No. I wish I did. My heart still wants them both. I love them each, differently. And they each love me, differently. But each somehow gives me exactly what I need. And want. I cannot choose. And I don’t even really have a choice.” She shook her head and shrugged. “I hope it goes easier for you.”
Lizzy let out a frustrated sigh. “I believed my life had finally gotten back on course. A new course, but I was happy with it. Freakishly happy with it. Until tonight, I was a one-minded woman with a cause… get your brother to give me lots of magical little babies.” She tossed Melinda a tight, I know, too much information grin. “I still want that…”
“But you want Grayson too,” Melinda finished.
How many times she’d gone this round.
William. Riley.
William. Riley.
“I need to find your brother.” Lizzy straightened herself, preparing to face him.
“That shouldn’t be too hard. There’s only once place Charlie goes when he needs to clear his head.”
“His boat,” assumed Lizzy. Melinda’s eyed perched open.
“He took me there.”
“Wow. Charlie doesn’t take anyone on his boat. Michael and I don’t even try. That’s his version of a fortress of solitude. He really is crazy in love with…” Melinda clipped herself off. “Sorry. Not helpful.”
“It’s okay.”
“Lizzy?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t have any good advice, but if you’re planning on ripping out my brother’s heart, can you do it fast? He’s so much more fragile than he lets on.”
Lizzy didn’t say anything, just dazedly rushed to reach Charlie.
#
She stopped abruptly on the shore, a few feet in front of the dock where his boat was tied up. Confidence shot. Nerves frayed. Fearing he’d taken off… but there he was. Sitting on his boat outside underneath the moonless night. Fog drifted across the bay, he didn’t seem to notice or care.
Waiting. For her.
He’d known she’d come at some point.
He would have heard her approaching already.
Lizzy advanced apprehensively, no idea what was about to happen, or get said, between them. Other than, it would not be pleasant. And it would hurt.
It already hurt.
“Hi,” she whispered gently from the dock at the edge of the boat.
He met her thin smile. “Hi.”
“Permission to come aboard?” She attempted lightheartedness. Her smile stretching ever so slightly.
He returned it, rising to help her on board.
“I wasn’t sure you’d allow me back on your boat again.”
“If I had my way, we’d never leave it.”
A God awful awkward silence fell between them.
Charlie realized he still had his hands around her waist and pulled them off her like he was breaking some new rule. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Don’t I? You’re technically engaged. Not to me.” He gave a short laugh, shaking his head in some twisted hidden meaning.
“Care to share?”
“This afternoon, I had this crazy idea pop into my head to go find someone to marry us right that minute because I’d be stupid to think I’d ever want anyone else. Ever.”
“Charlie…” she sighed, the ache wrenching her heart. “Apparently you are a hopeless romantic…”
“And also too late.” He forced himself to put some distance between them. The electric pull stretched thin, not quite breaking, but severely strained under the pressure.
Lizzy opened her mouth to speak…
Nothing. So much, and yet so nothing.
“I managed to render Lizzy Deane speechless, twice in one day. This time, not nearly as appealing. So what happens now?” His voice was reduced to a bruised whisper.
“I honestly have no idea. No, that’s not… I need to talk to Grayson and find out how he’s still alive. Why he’s killing when he didn’t before.”
“A vampire?” Charlie pushed out. Uncaring of the hows and whys.
“Is it really such a struggle for you, to think of a human and a vampire being in love?”
“No. I just… I don’t know this vampire. Other than what I’ve learned today, and what he’s done in recent weeks on this Isle.”
“But you know me, Charlie. I’ve changed some over the long years I was a prisoner. But at my core I’m still the same woman I was. He was a good man. And I loved him.”
“Do love him…” Charlie corrected painfully.
“Yes…” she admitted in equal misery. “It would be an unfair lie for me to deny it. When I first came back into my body I mourned his death as if it had just happened. The loss caught up with me like a fresh wound. But I moved on. I am…” she let the rest go unsaid, as words no longer formed.
“We need to stop this,” he waved his hand back and forth betw
een them. “I can’t work toward something that has no future. Or only a possible future. As someone recently put it to me, I’m a pass or fail kind of guy. I’m all in, or all out. I can’t live in the middle ground of, what if…”
“I do love you, you know.”
He nodded. “But the truth is, we barely know each other. Our lives together are brand new. Even though in here,” he touched his heart, “it feels ancient. Like it’s always been. I’ve never let anyone into my world, Lizzy.” She wanted the real him, this was all he could give her. “Until this thing is settled, one way or the other, I can’t even try. I’m sorry.”
He was backing out. Being the gentleman she fully expected him to be. Protecting himself at the same time.
It crushed her. And it was crushing him.
She could almost see the walls closing in on him.
“So much for being back in the world of the living, huh?” He tried to crack a smile. It painted itself as more of a wounded frown.
“I’ll still take it over…” Lizzy froze up. Tears welling up. What more could she say? “I’m sorry.” She fled the boat in a rush before losing it in front of Charlie. She hadn’t made it to the end of the dock when the sound of rope burned as it came untied thumping as it landed unceremoniously on the bottom of the boat.
The engine roared to life.
Distance.
Or air to breathe.
There wasn’t enough of either just now.
CHAPTER 23
Riley awakened to a groggy head and a throbbing ache in his temples. Molasses fluttered in and out as lids pried themselves open. Foreign surroundings. And bright. Far, far too bright. What in the holy hell happened and where on earth was he?
He groaned, rolling to his side. Blinking. Clearing the fog out of his eyes. It only made things brighter and more painful. After a minute, it subsided some, things getting clearer. He had drunk quite a bit last night, but this felt…
Oh, right. He’d gotten plastered in that pub outside Sorcier after his unasked for psychic reading with Aunt May, and had proceeded to flirt with a young woman and get pummeled in a fight with her boyfriend; a pro-wrestler wannabe over twice Riley’s size.
Last memories:
Head hitting pavement.
Breath knocked out of him.
An asskicker boot lifting off the ground to crush his skull.
Presumptuous footsteps clopping out of the shadows behind pro-wrestler wannabe.
Riley waiting for the boot blow. Pain, he deserved.
It never came. Only blackness consuming him.
He sucked in. Alive and conscious, wasn’t he? But everything was so bright. A halo of hazy white. Oh funeral bells! Had he died? Had pro-wrestler shit-kicked him straight to wherever he was headed after life?
Heaven. Hell. Nothing?
What waited?
He blinked a few more times, his vision clearing.
There was a glass of water and two aspirin sitting on a nightstand next to the bed.
Somehow, he didn’t think heaven or hell had this kind of service.
He must have survived.
He sat up with a groan. Stretched his face. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but he’d heal. Didn’t feel like any permanent damage had been done. He breathed out the throb, grasping at the aspirin and water. Downing both. It was room temperature, had been sitting there for a few hours, easily.
He swung his feet over the side of the bed he was laid out on.
“Where the hell am I?”
He got to his feet and steadied himself. There was a mirror hanging on the wall. He tiptoed over to sneak a look at the damage. He held back the gasp. Black eye. Swollen lip. Small cut on his chin. But someone had cleaned him up. He was still dressed, minus his jacket and shoes.
Cautiously and quietly, he opened the door to his unfamiliar bedroom and peeked out, saw nothing but more bright light. His eyes adjusted to the sunshine and upon closer inspection, took in the posh surroundings. Clean, open space. Luscious greenery growing from floor to ceiling. High ceilings. He was upstairs he realized with a dry, hard swallow.
It didn’t vibe out as bad, or unfriendly, but he didn’t like not knowing where the hell he was. Too bad he couldn’t order his gift to work on demand and tell him if he was safe here. Not that it really worked like that anyway. And there was always a chance he was still knocked out and this was all just a dream.
Fat chance…
He opened the door and stepped out, expecting someone to pounce on him, or say something. He listened… voices. But they were outside. People walking by. He was in a city he guessed, he imagined still in New Orleans from the architecture in the home. In the colony, or outside the colony? He had no clue.
Riley tested a few steps, peering anxiously from side to side, making his way down the stairs. No one. The only sounds from outside. He went for the front door then remembered his shoes. They were nowhere in sight and he didn’t feel like snooping. They were only shoes. He’d get new ones. It was much more important to get the hell outta dodge.
A jacket lying over the back of a kitchen chair. Damn, not his.
He crept over to take a look anyway. If he was lucky, there might be something in the jacket to tell him whose house he had slept in. He rifled through the pockets until locating a folded piece of notepaper. He wasn’t quite sure he dared look at it; felt a bit like violating someone’s personal space, but he needed to find out where he was.
He glanced, but it had no address on it. It looked to be a handwritten letter.
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 cannot shake this feeling 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 has become painfully obvious to me in my short hours back on the Isle. And there is something I must ask of you, William.
A terrible thing. Nothing I ever dreamed in a million years I would find myself asking of you. It hurts more than words can express, to do so.
I must ask you to leave The Demon Isle…
Not forever. Just for a time. Weeks. Months, perhaps. Until my children realize they can stand on their own feet, and fully understand all you do for them, and that they can do these things for themselves.
You were right, my friend! I coddled them too much. Let them rely on Catherine and I, and you, rather than push them into the life they needed to be prepared for. I always thought I had more time.
My biggest mistake, and regret.
They are well on their way, they simply need a push. But not from you.
Consider my request a long overdue vacation. Visit with your other family. I’m sure they miss you and we’ve stolen your services for far too long. I’m sure you’ll know when it’s right to return to the Isle.
Forever grateful, and always in your debt,
Jack Howard.
Riley dropped the letter, his brain mired in confusion. This was making less and less sense.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s impolite to read other people’s letters?”
Riley inhaled sharply. “What the hell?” His body spun, instantly aware and alert as he searched for the face who matched that voice. Something had to be wrong with his hearing because this was impossible.
He was in New Orleans. Not on The Demon Isle.
Wasn’t he?
Vocal chords failed him.
Lungs burned, not nearly enough oxygen making it deep enough for them to function properly. Heart pounded hard, blood rushing to keep up as the vampire he’d mercilessly tortured for an entire night stepped into the open with a growl.
“Hello, Riley…”
William Wakefield’s emerald eyes flashed deadly, the corner of his mouth upturning in a presumptuous grin.
Riley’s gaze shifted right and left.
It was useless. He could not outrun a vampire…
#
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Vampire Interrupted (Wicked Good Witches Book 8) Page 28