Dead Witch Walking (Demon Isle Witches Uncut): Hi-Ho Black Magic-O, A Cursing We Will Go (A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Book 10)

by Starla Silver

  “It’s perfect.” Her eyes never left his.

  “You haven’t even seen it,” he chuckled.

  “There’s only one room I want to see.” Every beat of her heart, erratic breath, and pulse of her blood begged him not to deny her. Not tonight. Not ever again. He had them in the bedroom a second later. Lisbeth on her back, splayed out underneath him. Grayson grasped the front of her dress and tore it down the middle.

  He took a few blink’s pause to emblazon her image in his mind.

  “Who would have thought such perfection existed.” He stretched out over her, still clothed, engulfing her with his body. She moaned into his mouth, tongue exploring her depths. Lisbeth tugged at his shirt.

  “You have too many clothes on.” And for once, he agreed.

  In a flash she barely saw, he was off her, off the bed, undressed, and draped over her again, covering her in fiery kisses. The skin on skin contact was almost too much. She’d wanted this for so long. And though he seemed eager and confident, she didn’t want to push him too far, too fast.

  “Grayson?”

  He stopped and caught her eyes. The answers she needed were all there in the gaze penetrating her as deeply as she wanted his body to. The bloodlust was there too, near the surface, but nothing compared to the sexual hunger he needed to feed. This last year of waiting had been… the most pleasant sort of hell. And worth every minute of agony he’d gone through to get off the need for human blood. And integrate his life with hers.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “My Lisbeth,” he muttered, placing his forehead on hers. “I love you for as many days as this life allows us. And into whatever afterlife awaits.”

  “Make love to me, Grayson. Right now. I cannot wait another minute.” She lifted upward grasping at his lips, charging the attack. Wrapping herself around him as it was impossible to get close enough. He matched every kiss, every gasp, movement, moan, or groan.

  Fingers trailed downward; he would not dive inside her until he was sure she was ready. Lisbeth stopped him, a naughty grin on her lips. Her own hand slid downward and came back up to his lips in a silent and blood boiling, I’m ready for you.

  His voice came out raggedly. Control spiraling into madness. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. I trust you.”

  “I don’t mean the bloodlust. I don’t want to hurt you.” His fingers found their way to her core. Two of them shoving in deep. “You’re hot. And wet.” He thrust his fingers inside her again, and she arched up into him, losing the air in her lungs. The heat of her skin sizzled against him. “But tight. And innocent.” He pulled them out. “I’m much larger than these two fingers.” He showed her while licking them clean. She swore his eyes rolled up in his head.

  “My innocence belongs to you.” She lifted her hips, body begging for him. His fingers had not been nearly enough to of him. “I want all of you.”

  “Females say their first time can be painful. I cannot bear to hurt you, and I still fear being inside you will loosen my control to dangerous levels.”

  “I want you to lose yourself. You promised we would not be civilized in this house.”

  He had, at that.

  Her hands slid down his back, pressing into him, telling him she was ready for him. “It’s a pain I can handle. A pain I want. A pain I need.” She gasped when the hot emptiness was filled with a merciless thrust of icy velvet.

  Lost to oblivion. The moment, frozen in time. Their movements still, and tense. Grayson slipped into her mind, fearing he’d find pain there. Or regret. But it was only ecstasy. And impatience. His feisty human wanted a lot more of him. She refused his desire for gentle though her first time. She’d waited long enough, and she wanted all of him. The real him. No holding back.

  So he didn’t.

  He pulled out, flipped her over, pulled her down to the edge of the bed and planted her on her knees. His feet hit the floor and he and slammed into her with a growl.

  “Is this what you want?” he snarled through the fangs punching against his lips. She was incapable of vocalizing a reply as his thrusts deepened and filled her so fully. Her head pulled back, his grip twisted in her hair. “I didn’t hear you.” Her only response was a moan. “In this bed, you belong to me, Lisbeth Deane. Outside these walls, your will belongs to you. But here in this house, in this bed, your will belongs to me.” Another moan as he twisted her head to the side and leaned down to her face. “I will hear you say it.”

  “Yes,” she stammered breathlessly.

  “Yes, what?” he let go of her hair and lifted himself, gripping her hips.

  “Yes, I’m yours. All yours, Grayson.”

  He snarled in the thrill this gave him.

  Lisbeth swore she was falling. Off the bed. Through the floor. Off the edge of the world.

  Fire sprouted through her. Stole her ability to breathe, or think. Only shout Grayson’s name as he struck every nerve so perfectly she almost lost herself to unconsciousness. So many times her vampire had driven her to insane pleasure, but this, it was nothing like his tongue, or hands.

  And she wasn’t falling, only moving. With Grayson stretched out over her, somehow having never pulled out of her as she was rolled onto her back again. She panted heavily, her eyes widening in the glory of the vampire. Hungry eyes. Fangs. A feral warning riding the growl swimming in his throat; he was just getting started.

  “Did I ever tell you how incredible you are?” Her vocal chords stretched in bemused wonder.

  He grinned, demonically. The pleasure she’d just reached was but a taste of what was to come.

  Her soft hands slid upward and cupped his face. His eyes drifted closed as if her touch sent him to some other plane of existence. Her lips claimed his and everything stopped again. Like time itself couldn’t even keep up with them.

  One human lifetime of this… Grayson let the dizzying thought settle into Lisbeth’s mind.

  “Maybe one lifetime is not enough,” she exclaimed, overcome. A subject they’d discuss again, some other day. But not tonight.

  He did not believe for a minute she’d changed her mind after one mind-blowing encounter and decided to give up her life as a witch, and become a vampire.

  However, she was right in saying one human lifetime would never be enough. He’d never have his fill of her. Grayson returned her kiss with a gentleness that made the monster purr with delight. He’d love this woman underneath him as completely as it was possible to do. And if they had only one lifetime, he’d not waste a single minute on anything else.

  CHAPTER 5

  Michael capped the vial of freshly withdrawn werewolf blood. Charlie rolled his flannel shirtsleeve back down his arm.

  “That should get us through a couple more days,” hoped Courtney.

  “Let’s hope we can figure out how to break the curse by then,” Michael droned, not sounding hopeful they would. Especially since Lizzy was in the hospital and unable to communicate with them. “Charlie?” he called out to his brother, who’d gone to staring off into nothing.

  “Huh?”

  “Sleep.”

  “Um, yeah. I’m gonna try that. I’m pretty sure it’s not going to happen.”

  “Okay, I’ll be in William’s study. Courtney and I are back on the research wagon.”

  “I should help you with that,” Charlie decided wearily.

  “How about, no, and we can handle it, and you go sleep. You look about ready to fall over.”

  Charlie’s eyes rolled up toward the ceiling, the second level where their bedrooms were. Bed was calling, but he still didn’t think sleep would come. But he could start with a shower and a clean set of clothes.

  “If by some off chance I actually fall asleep, wake me in three hours.” Not a, please will you, but a, just do it.

  Michael nodded, not even bothering to argue. Three hours wasn’t much, but it was all the time Charlie was willing to be away from Lizzy.

  The shower was refreshing, the lack
of sleep that followed not a surprise. After thirty minutes of trying, Charlie gave up and got dressed. His thoughts were spinning off in so many directions he wasn’t sure what to do with himself other than go back to the hospital. He opted for coffee, and if he could get his brain to cooperate, he’d help out Michael and Courtney for a bit before returning.

  In reality, it was all he could do to keep himself from going back that minute. Being away from Lizzy felt so very wrong. Especially with the knowledge she was awake and stuck in her mind, and he’d promised not to let it linger too long and holy shit, how long was too long and, okay, yeah, coffee.

  He made it to the kitchen and took a few sips, leaning against the counter listening to the distant sounds of Grayson grumbling in the basement, and Michael and Courtney in the study. But his gaze wandered down the corridor, to the one room he’d wanted to enter since his father had died, and had not found the courage to do yet.

  What he wouldn’t give to hear some sage words from his parents.

  Before he even realized he’d moved, he’d gotten to their bedroom door and opened it, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind him. He leaned against it, peering around the room with held breath, unsure what to expect. But there might not be anything to expect. Chances were, his father had left nothing here for him.

  The room looked just like it always did. With the exception of a few crinkles in the bedsheets where his father must have sat down. The chair at the desk was pulled out just a little, he’d probably sat there as well. And the closet door was slightly ajar.

  Small signs of life.

  The life so swiftly taken right after being given back.

  Charlie stared for a good long time. Unmoving. He set down his mug after a few agonizingly long minutes and took a step inside, rubbing his nervous hands on his shorts. That was when he saw it. The thing. The one thing he’d both, hoped, and dreaded, was in this room. An envelope with his name on it, sitting on the desk with the slightly off-kilter chair his father had sat in to write whatever was inside.

  Even seeing it there, Charlie wondered if today was the right day to read it. He was tired. So very, very tired. And worried about so many things, as usual. No matter what this letter said it would be an emotional upheaval, one that might be better suited to a more stable emotional sort of day.

  “That might never happen again,” he mumbled. They had few of those any longer. And if he lost Lizzy, he was beginning to think he might never have another again.

  His strides got him to the desk easy enough, but his hand needed some encouragement to reach out and take the envelope off the desk. Upon closer inspection, there were three, one to each of the siblings. Charlie would make sure Michael and Melinda got theirs to read at their leisure.

  He held his own for a few minutes, debating whether to open it or not. He sat on the edge of the bed and twisted the envelope in his hands until he was opening it, and pulling out the letter inside. It was more like tearing a bandage off in one swift pull you could not go back on. One moment of courage to do something you realized would also have pain behind it.

  Charlie,

  If I did not have the chance, let me say how proud am I of all you’ve done, and become, in the time since your mother and I first left you. How sorry I am for the burden I put on you, so unexpectedly. And also, for the burden I am putting you through, now.

  If William obeyed my request, which I am confident he did, and what I fear has happened, has… my death… then you are currently with your siblings, alone. This was not an easy thing to do as a father, but necessary, as I did not do all I could while I was alive.

  I asked William to leave the Isle for a time. So that the three of you could figure out how to work together, without him. A trial by fire if you will, and one I dare say I already regret even though I understand it a necessary evil. I’m sure his departure will cause more pain. I do not want this, but it is vital you figure out how to work as a unit, as Howards, and as witches, so you can pass this along to your own children. Better than your mother and I did with you.

  We left you ill-prepared. Not ready to face a future without us. And for that, I am truly sorry. You are paying for our mistakes now.

  Second, there is a gift meant for you. From your mother and myself. It was supposed to be given to you on your next birthday, which unfortunately we didn’t make it to. If you go to our closet and search deep into the back right-hand side, you’ll find a box with your name on it. William didn’t even know of this gift, it was something me and your mother spent years working on, in secret. It contains all the information we were able to collect about your potential future as a werewolf, or being a husband or father. We hope all concerns, or questions you might have, will be answered there.

  I find I am out of time, and running out of words worthy of what I want to say to you.

  Your mother and I love you, so very much.

  It’s not the same, but no matter where we are in the afterlife, we will be looking in on you, and always worrying and loving each of you.

  While I feel as though I didn’t prepare you for a world without us in it, I can proudly say that I see myself in you. Which means I think I can say this to you, and it will make perfect sense. You live each day striving to fulfill your duty. You love with such immensity that sometimes, it feels like it will tear you to pieces, but even so, you will always do what’s right for the Isle and for the future of the Howard bloodline, even if it means it hurts to your very depths.

  You are a good soul, Charlie. And as a father, I could not be prouder. Because I understand the alternative. It would claim your life to live with such falsehood or deceit in your heart, stripping away who you are. No one else in this world will ever fully understand this, and what it means to be the Elder Howard. Because that is what you are now. The leader.

  Elder, is a word we have not used in some time, our family has gotten smaller with every generation. But you are a strong leader, and I believe in you.

  Just remember, Son, you are not alone.

  We are always with you, in spirit.

  May your life be blessed with love, and family.

  Forever looking over you,

  Dad.

  Charlie set down the letter, and odd sort of numbness enveloping him. He eyed his parents closet and made his way over, reaching into the right hand back side to find this mystery box that not even William knew of. It took only a minute to find and pull it out. It wasn’t too big or heavy, for him at least. He set it down on the bed and stroked the top lid, which had his name written across it in black marker.

  What did his parents get him? And why so secret?

  He opened it, peering inside.

  Notebooks. Books. Another note, this one written in his mother’s handwriting.

  Charlie.

  Happy 22nd Birthday.

  They really had been intending on giving this to him before they died. Funny how something like this could remain unnoticed for over four years. He was well into twenty-six now.

  Your father and I have spent these last year’s collecting any and all information we could. In regards to your future as a werewolf. We want you to be able to have a normal a life as possible, which means a family. After you read through everything in this box- sorry, I know how much you despise reading- but after, you should have no questions, unanswered.

  Love, Mom and Dad.

  Charlie stared at the box, the letters from his parents, and into nothing, for ages.

  Feeling nothing. Because he didn’t want to read anything in that box if it didn’t mean Lizzy would choose him to spend her life with. A future he dared not think possible any longer. And he could not picture his future with any other woman. And with every minute that passed, she was getting farther away from him. Even so, he refused to give up, completely. He’d not abandon her by any means.

  He wanted to sit, and stew, maybe even cry a little. Hell, more like a lot.

  What good would it do? It would change nothing.

 
He grabbed the box and left the room, hollering to Michael and Courtney that he was giving up on sleep and heading back to the hospital. It was the only place he wanted to be. Needed to be. Duty, and everything else set aside, something was drawing him back there, and he’d not leave unless he had to again.

  ##

  Melinda and Lucas were not surprised when Charlie had shown back up sooner than later. She didn’t bother arguing with him that he hadn’t gotten enough of a break, or actual rest. In fact, he looked riled up. But the reality was that she and Lucas still had magical business to attend to. And Mack had stopped by with some additional files she’d found on the mysterious ferry jumper, and haunter of Lucas’ new magical ability, Levi Johnston.

  “You look like you’re about to crawl out of your own skin.” Melinda grabbed her brother’s shoulder. He reached up and grasped back for a few seconds.

  “Don’t hide it from me if you need me, okay, Sis. Otherwise, I’ll be… here.”

  “We’re doing fine. We’ll check in later, okay?”

  Charlie nodded, accepting her response as she sounded confident. As they left, he returned to staring intently at Lizzy. His staring wasn’t only trying to will her into consciousness. But dreading what he might have to do if this did not happen. He leaned over and stroked her cheek.

  Lizzy in another prison was her worst nightmare, and she was living it out that very moment. How many moments would he let it continue?

  “I won’t let you stay like this,” he whispered. “I haven’t figured out how to fix it yet, but I won’t let you get stuck in another prison. I promise. Whatever it takes. I promise.” Even if it meant losing her, forever. He’d find some way to free her from another lifetime of hell. He stared down at the box he’d brought from the house and began taking out notebooks filled with collected information from his parents. He’d read to her, whatever he learned, she’d learn, even if it meant nothing in the end because she didn’t end up choosing him. But it would give him something to keep talking about. Especially when spiritually, his words had begun to feel empty, meaningless, and repetitive.