Sir Tinkham Sickereaux. That weasel of a Feyk who was responsible for the murdering of her coven. His removal from the living was coming soon… a task she would soon be partnering up to do alongside Melinda Howard, once she was ready.
Regardless, she felt responsible for the trouble she’d caused and would do her best to make sure it did not happen again. Once she was able, she might even try to shut down the blog. So far, Mr. Dante had not replaced her as the D.E.S.I. Reporter. The Demon Isle Supernatural Investigator.
So far, since the Feyk had left the Isle, nothing too crazy had been posted to the blog. Nothing that warranted an actual investigation at least. She hoped that stayed the same.
She’d come here under false pretenses in order to track the Feyk, but she was a reporter and had liked the job. So far, her boss believed her missing, or for whatever reason, quitting without notice and fleeing the Isle without collecting a paycheck or her belongings. If she was super lucky, maybe he’d let her come back to work when she was ready. She didn’t have her witch abilities to bewitch him into it though, which is how she’d made sure she was hired in the first place.
Perhaps the Howards would help.
As she thought about it, keeping herself as the D.E.S.I. Reporter might not be such a bad thing. If Mr. Dante was insistent to keep the report, better her in charge than someone else who had no idea the supernatural was real. Or worse, someone who did but really wanted to stir up some trouble.
She’d have to give it some thought as she was not ready to go back to work yet. Being in the public, not a safe thing with her new bloody appetite. And considering they had another much more unsavory vampire locked in the basement, and Charlie was out to sea for a few days, she was more confident sticking close.
Already, though only days into her life with the Howard Witches, she was protective of them. Especially after learning some of the things they’d gone through these last few years. Hell, these last few months.
They’d suffered a lot of loss, just like her. And when she combined this with her need to get the whole blood hunger under control, being with the Howards was the smart choice. She wasn’t ready to integrate back into normal life yet. That would be a deep dive into easy temptation. Too many living food sources waiting to seduce her to the red side. Just the idea of blood got her nerves a tingle.
But even as a vampire, living with the Howards was almost like joining another coven, if only just for a little while. Helping them gave her something to focus on other than her future, or what she’d lost.
They spent the afternoon with Lizzy instructing them in potion making. Nearing the end of the four-hour-long lesson, she paused, a thoughtful gleam in her eye. The kind that meant she’d just thought of something.
“What?” prodded Lucas.
“Just had an idea. One of those out of the blue possibly wicked brilliant ideas.”
“Like an all over island bomb spell,” beamed Melinda, of one of her previous ideas.
“Better mark it down with the rest of them,” advised Lucas, with an amused smile on his lips. Lizzy was always coming up with some new idea or another.
“Do share,” encouraged Courtney. She’d taken up residence atop one of the kitchen counters.
“Human safe potions. Such a stupidly overdue thing.”
“Is that possible?”
Melinda jumped, startled by the voice. She spun to see her brother Michael in the doorway. She sagged at the sight of him. A shadow of himself. He’d been distant, quiet. Subdued and sad. Somehow getting through the motions and surviving each hour and day.
He’d had no word from Emily. Not one. And it was eating him alive from the inside, out.
“Just finished out at White Pines,” he informed everyone when Lizzy didn’t answer straight away. He was not a fan of silence these days. Too much thinking going on. And too many emotions swinging at him. “No one can get close to the old tree or the power source entrance without us knowing.” He’d wrangled up a temporary alarm system using a concoction of spells and crystals, which were linked to a crystal he lay gently on the kitchen counter. It would light up if anything supernatural, good or evil, got within a one-hundred-foot perimeter of the old tree; the entrance to the power source.
“That’s one deeper breath we can take,” Lizzy reckoned.
Melinda stared at the crystal. “I really hope that thing never lights up.”
“You, me, everyone here and on the Isle, agree, I’m sure,” said Michael. “So what about human safe potions, Lizzy? Is it possible?”
She thought for a moment about the subject before answering Michael. But after a minute shrugged. “I don’t see why we can’t do it. It would take time, of course. Lots of trial and error. Perhaps there are reasons I’m not aware of as to why it’s never been done. Probably the strength of potions, or…” she trailed off, tapping her fingers on the countertop.
“I’ll help if you want to try,” Michael offered. “It would be nice to know we aren’t accidentally killing non-witches with our potions.” No more replays of their mother’s needless death.
“Yes. I agree,” said Lizzy.
While he sounded eager, Michael’s entire being could only be described as deflated.
“Why don’t we start now?” suggested Melinda.
“And that would be how exactly?” prompted Lucas. Melinda swore his head looked like it was about to explode with all the ingredients and instructions Lizzy had taught them already that day.
“Make a list of all the ingredients we use. Two columns. Poisonous to humans, and non-poisonous. After, start working through each potion and whenever there is a poisonous ingredient, we try to find a human safe equivalent that will work as a replacement.”
“That’s not daunting at all,” Lucas mumbled.
Courtney chuckled. “I like this plan.”
Lizzy handed Lucas a pad of paper. “I’ll let you get started. This will be a good test for both of you,” she also aimed at Melinda. “Test your knowledge.”
Courtney was glad to help, although no longer a witch, she was familiar with many of the things required to make potions. And was all for making them safer to use. She allowed Lucas and Melinda to guess first though, only adding her input after. And was surprised at how much she knew. It both filled her with pride and a dull ache that only intensified. Her coven was the reason she’d learned any of this, and she hadn’t been able to save them.
She focused on the fact that this was a good refresher while helping Melinda learn so she was able to join in the hunt for Stricker. Sooner than later. And even though William had not turned out to be the vampire responsible for killing the Demon Isle tourists, Melinda had decided to keep her word to help Courtney. Stricker was still responsible for so much heartache to so many. He needed to get dead. Like yesterday!
Lizzy joined Michael by the stair leading down into the basement.
“Don’t suppose you got anything out of him?”
Michael shook his head. “Last I spoke to him this morning, still insists he’ll only talk to you.” A meeting Lizzy had not brought herself to do yet. “Something tells me we’re running out of time.” Michael’s tone pushed, lightly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to rush you.”
She waved him off. “No. I can’t delay again. I’ve put it off long enough.” Her toe tensely tapped the floor as she searched for the courage to march down those stairs and into his cell. She’d needed a few days to clear out the romantic fog so she was able to take this job seriously. And not just fall under the spell of Grayson’s charms.
She loved the vampire, Charlie was right about that. But she would not risk additional lives just because of this.
“I think I’m ready to try.” She shook herself. “I need to be ready. This can’t go on.”
“Do you trust him?” Michael had gotten over his tantrum about the Deane’s and Grayson from a few nights ago and apologized to Lizzy and Lucas. But no one blamed him, he’d been upset and exhausted.
“Do I trust he wo
n’t hurt me? Yes. Everything else…” she was unable to say with any certainty one way or the other. “He’s not the same man I knew.” The sad and frightening reality.
“He’s had his daily dose of werewolf blood, so he’s docile enough,” Michael informed her. “Charlie better get his ass home soon though. We’ve only got one more dose left.”
At Charlie’s name, Lizzy’s entire insides quaked in agony. She was part of the reason he was not home. What happened between them had been some final nail in the coffin and he needed some time. Which he did by taking his boat out to sea.
Personally, she was glad he was doing it. But imagined he’d waited until literally the last moment before actually losing his mind. His sense of duty was part of why she loved and respected him so much, so fast, but it was going to kill him if he didn’t take care of himself better.
She started down the stairs. Guess it’s time… can’t keep putting it off… her feet moved on her behalf, but her brain and heart were not in this.
Courtney hovered, giving Michael a curt nod. She was ready to race like the wind to the basement, just in case. Michael stuck around too, giving Lizzy space. But unable to ditch the need to be close since they did not trust Grayson like she did.
His gaze traveled around the kitchen like he was taking a panorama of the view. Lizzy disappearing down the stairs; a groan and a creak as the cell door to Grayson’s prison opened and closed a few seconds later. Courtney hovering nearby, at the ready. Alert to the actions taking place in the basement and yet listening to Lucas and Melinda, who were busy in the kitchen making lists of potions and ingredients. They worked good together.
It was life. In motion.
And yet it was empty. More of a mockery of what it was supposed to be.
Not quite truly alive, just getting through the acts. One by one.
Things were getting done though, and that was good. He guessed.
Everyone was doing their best to keep their emotions in check around him, especially the sympathy, but it was still there. No way to hide it all. He didn’t deserve it. No more or less than anyone else. He’d made mistakes. They all had. Now they were paying the price and trying to fix all those things.
Just how he was going to keep surviving through each day with this gigantic crater in his chest, he had no idea other than keep busy and not think about it. Which was impossible as Emily, and his failures, were the only constant thought at the back of his mind.
He glanced at his phone.
Right. Like it’s any different than five minutes ago.
No message or call from Emily. Regardless, he’d sent his usual text that day. The same one he’d sent the day before, and the day before. And would send again until he’d gotten a reply.
“Emily. Just wanted to tell you how much I miss you. And love you. Always.”
What he hoped she’d actually read is, “Oh my God where are you? Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me you’re coming home. Soon. I love you much it is killing me not knowing where you are, or that you’re okay. Please, if nothing else, just tell me you’re okay.”
But nothing. Not a single response. Like she’d just vanished.
And she did, from his world at least.
They hadn’t gone this long without being in some kind of contact since, well, since never. They’d become instant friends, saw each other every day in high school. And even once Emily went off to college they emailed and texted or called every day. Michael even checked in on her father now and again when she feared he might be lying about his health, or needed something he didn’t want to ask for.
And there were these last weeks, after they’d started dating, with her in his bed, or him in her bed.
Followed by the Feyk attack which had brought her into the mansion every night until she’d fled… he’d not left her side for a minute longer than he’d needed to.
God, he was the definition of clingy boyfriend.
But he had good reason.
And typically, Emily clung right back. It was a mutual clinging.
He looked at his phone again.
Yup. Okay. Enough of this. He hopped over to Melinda and grabbed the pad of paper ignoring the mass of sympathy both his sister and Lucas were trying to rein in.
“I’ll write it down. You guys call off the ingredients.”
Melinda graciously said nothing and started reading off things for him to write down. Damn it though. If this family got any busier keeping busy to survive through the day…
At some point, they were all going to crash and burn.
Melinda stopped after their first page of poisonous ingredients was filled.
“Why is it just dawning on me now how dangerous this stuff is? And why the hell do we keep this stuff in the same kitchen we cook our own food in?”
“Cook?” joked Michael.
“Yeah, okay, that’s a rarity. We mostly make coffee and order in. And the stove is pretty much used for potion making.”
“You still have a point,” Michael agreed.
“We need a second kitchen,” she stated. “One where all the magic happens.”
“That is not a bad idea, Sis. Stupidly overdue actually.”
“Like so many things,” she muttered.
“You have that nice storage room in the basement where you keep stuff you harvest from your garden,” said Lucas. “Is there any chance of adding a small kitchen somewhere down there?”
“Actually, you might be onto something,” pondered Michael. “There’s a sink already, so plumbing’s already been run.”
“And there’s that closet we keep stuffing with junk right behind the storage room. We could get rid of that stuff, put in a door and a small kitchen. We’ll need lots of light though, way too dark down there.”
“I’ll help if you like,” said Lucas. “I’m not so good at magic but I’ve been known to swing a hammer.”
“Good thing,” admitted Michael wryly. “Don’t think I’ve ever swung one.”
“I bet if Josh isn’t busy, he’d help too. Not exactly a supernatural cleaning job,” said Melinda, “but he always seems eager.”
“We could get it done in a weekend,” insisted Lucas.
“If we can get through one without all hell breaking loose,” chimed Michael.
“Well then, first non-hell-breaking-loose weekend we get, it’s DIY kitchen time.” Melinda grinned. But still, with an emptiness behind it.
Life, in motion.
Things getting done.
This time, however, with a spark of something Michael could not put into words. Like they’d just climbed the first rung of a sky high ladder.
CHAPTER 5
Lizzy let the heavy door close behind her with a creaking slow thud and croaked out a focused clearing of her throat.
Like Grayson doesn’t already know I’m here…
The vampire’s weighted stare traced the contours of her. Like he’d done in real life so many years ago. Hell, like he’d done with his lips and tongue and hands so many years ago. Before she’d been ghasted. When they were engaged to be married.
Don’t react to him. But there was no way to stop her body from reacting.
His gaze still melted over her like butter. Turned her muscles to jelly. Boiled her blood to a fiery pulse.
She shuddered involuntarily, gnawing on her lip which did nothing to stop her erratic heart.
Business. We’re all about business.
He killed people. Possibly a lot of people.
He’s not the same Grayson…
“We need to hurry, Lizzy.” He spoke first, slurring a bit. A drunkish effect of the werewolf blood. Regardless, there was a desperation surfacing at her presence. “I knew you’d come, although it did take longer than I expected.”
And no, hello. It’s been a long time. It’s lovely to see you.
She guessed they’d technically already done that when he’d snatched her and taken her back to the cave where it all started. Where she’d first been ghasted. Bu
t she had been so shocked. Not that she was any less now. Just more mentally prepared… so she kept trying to tell herself.
She took a seat, attempting an even face and still hands.
“Hello, Grayson.” She aimed for formal and business-like, hoping to keep this conversation within her control. Not his. But God, seeing him again. So close. Alive. Just a few feet out of her reach. So many parts of her wanted to rush over and gush all over him, beg him to reveal all that had happened. To pick up life where it had left off.
That life didn’t exist anymore.
There was no return.
Even if there was a her and Grayson, somewhere in the future, there was no return to their previous life.
“We need to hurry,” he repeated. His tone held more warning this time. Lizzy sighed, shaking her head.
“Why do we need to hurry, Grayson? You’re safe here. You can’t hurt anyone.”
“Not can’t. Won’t. For now. Time is not on my side.” As if proving some secret point, his fangs dropped in a slow, predatory, gait. His breaths coming out with a hungry coarseness that needed no embellishment.
“Are you doing that on purpose, Grayson? You do remember that never scared me, right?” Regardless, her hand lifted to her throat and the fang mark that had only recently healed, the scar almost gone.
It wasn’t fear she was remembering.
And damn it, Grayson wasn’t a fool. He’d known the exact reaction he’d get from her. She let her hand drop.
“The curse makes you hungry?” she confirmed in strained control.
“The hunger is all consuming. I have no control.”
“Because of the curse?”
“Yes. Charlotte Howard, that bitch, she cursed me just as she did you.”
“Tell me. Tell me everything, Grayson. Do not hold back because I cannot guarantee anything about your future, no matter the connection in our past.”
Hexed and Dangerous (The Wicked Witch of Future Past) (A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Book 9) Page 6