Wicked Good Witches- Complete Series Bundle

by Ruby Raine

  Grace moved somewhere inside the café and waved upon seeing them.

  She unlocked the door and grinned. "If'n I'd seen ya out here I woulda let ya in. Geesh! Come in and warm up!"

  "I'm so ready for some sugar," Melinda moaned. Lucas was about to agree when an arrogant voice echoed a vile greeting from across the empty street. Melinda gasped—so much for thinking they were safe because it was morning and daylight.

  "Dominic," she growled. Part of the reason for her doubt. She refused to let this douchy excuse of a man take anything else from her. He'd done that enough.

  They warned Grace to get back inside—the café owner's eyes blanched beach-ball wide upon seeing what was happening right out in the open in front of her café. She vanished into the depths while Lucas twisted back around to help Melinda. They were poised to defend themselves if needed.

  The smug ass Dominic didn't do anything, though. He merely grinned as arrogantly as he sounded and stood there like he was waiting for something. Melinda and Lucas held their breath, fearing the arrival of a demon, but nothing happened.

  They really did need to be more careful, even in broad daylight, and this close to home. Hell, they weren't even safe walking around town in the morning. Melinda had been stupid to walk alone, Lucas too. That much was never clearer than right now.

  Melinda and Lucas shared a knowing eye raise about this while Dominic simpered and glared across the street. The morning air warmed and the frost on the cobblestone melted and made it appear as though the streets were steaming upward. It also made them slippery so they'd need to be cautious.

  A quick glance in both directions of the road confirmed they were still alone on the street—thank God it was the off season and only locals around. Regardless, the witches didn't normally bring their battles right out in the open on the damn street.

  "What do you want Dominic?" Melinda demanded. "Trying to kill me again?"

  "Don't need to try."

  And just what the hell did that mean?

  Dominic started to lunge as if to attack—at the same time Melinda shot off a spell that hit the prick straight in the chest and should have sent him flying into the road—but not a thing happened. He didn't even wince. Dominic stopped and looked over himself, his vile grin spreading a little wider. Melinda shot off another spell making another direct hit, and again, nothing.

  She thrust one of her potions at him. This time, the bastard ducked out of the way and the potion exploded, shattering a glass window behind him.

  A terrible thought was forming in her mind, but she pushed it down until this was over. She nodded for Lucas to go right while she went left, and they dashed out into the street at the same time Dominic rolled out of the mess of shattered glass and back onto his feet—and then did something neither of them expected and raised his palm and threw a spell toward Melinda.

  It blasted into her body with an unexpected force that blew her body right toward Grace's café windows—Melinda managed to avoid crashing through the glass due to the perfect timing of her vampire who'd arrived and caught her in time.

  Grace had called for help. Melinda would thank her later once her brain stopped shaking.

  Lucas called for Mathew while he and Dominic blasted at each other in a heated battle just as a siren screamed down the street and Mack's patrol car arrived with a screech of tires. Charlie and Lizzy scrambled out of the back—the sheriff must have been visiting the mansion when Grace put out the SOS.

  The fighting stopped a breath later as a great power threaded the air and two halos shrouded them, each one fighting for dominance. Mathew in his golden halo of warmth and goodness, and a demon, its halo deep red and filled with dread and cold warning.

  "Holy—shit." It was Lucas who stammered out the words.

  Melinda stared in dumbfounded awe. She had not heard or seen wrong.

  It was Mathew against Mathew, light and dark... only it appeared neither had expected this scenario and both leered at each other, uncertainly.

  "Who are you?" breathed out Mathew.

  The demon growled under his breath and nodded curtly at Dominic, who had no clue what was happening with the lookalikes. The prick returned to the demon's side, though, and bowed his head.

  "It worked, My Dark Guardian."

  The Mathew lookalike did not respond, and instead placed his hand on Dominic's head and the prick vanished. But the lookalike didn't leave after his progeny. His beady eyes glared at Mathew as if this was some dirty trick.

  It was like looking at Mathew, but not quite.

  Mathew, if his hair was longer and messier. Mathew if he was skinnier, a hard thing to imagine as he was thin already. But this other version was almost gaunt. His eyes screamed villainy, and not the adoration and sweetness of the Mathew they knew. It was like looking at Mathew if he lost his golden halo of soul-deep goodness and was possessed by pure malevolence.

  "Who are you?" Mathew tried again in desperation for an answer.

  "I'm not anyone," the demon replied a moment later. "We are all one. We follow our King."

  "What do they call you? Surely, you're not called anyone," Mathew pushed out.

  The demon snarled. "I am Markus." He took a step closer, conflict in his eyes. A curiosity they supposed he wasn't supposed to have. A question he should not need to ask. He was a follower, a doer of orders. Demons did not question, only obeyed their King.

  It was like this reminder hit him all at once and he growled acting like he was about to leave, but Charlie stopped him with another question.

  "Why are you attacking my sister? What do you want from her?"

  Markus' only reply was an annoyed grunt and he vanished in a halo of red, the frigid cold and dread lifting with his departure. He left behind a speechless Mathew who stared at the empty spot, and a terrified Melinda who had pieced together what she thought was happening with Dominic.

  "Are you okay?" William needed to know first. There was no disdain in his voice over her running off like she had, only concern that she was unharmed.

  "I'm not hurt." But she was not okay, and he was catching on to her thoughts about why.

  Lucas came up to Mathew and grabbed his shoulders gently.

  "It appears you have an evil doppelganger."

  It wasn't that they'd disbelieved Melinda when she'd said such, it was just easier to believe the Demons were up to some trick—but this was something different. This demon, Markus, had no clue who Mathew was either, and had been honestly surprised by the turn.

  Mathew nodded absentmindedly as Grace came flying out. Melinda thanked her for calling for help. The others wanted to know all that happened, but William stopped their badgering as he recognized Melinda needed a moment to gather herself and explain.

  "I guess it's a sign of the times," Grace mumbled under her breath, "when evil attacks in broad daylight right on the dang street."

  "This evil is not like the evil we usually fight, Grace," said Charlie. "I don't think they're coming here to harm others, though, only us." It wasn't much comfort, but Grace nodded and gave them a weak smile.

  "At least let me send ya all home with some baked goods." Because sugar or caffeine was the real answer to every problem in her book. But they'd never say no to delicious yumminess from Grace's oven. Serious trouble brewing or not.

  Lizzy dialed Michael and Emily and warned them about what happened and that they were going to have another emergency meeting. So much for spending time in their new home. At this rate, they might as well move back into Michael's old room.

  Annie and Courtney met them at the entrance of the mansion, having stayed behind to keep watch in case this had been a distraction—something they'd suffered through and learned the lesson of the hard way before.

  When everyone had gathered in the kitchen, Melinda once again found herself explaining another attack. And if she'd felt powerless before, it was downright miserable now. Everything she'd talked about with Lucas made perfect sense on paper, but right now, she felt utterly pow
erless. And more so than anyone, against Dominic, the man who'd stolen it away from her to begin with.

  "I know why they needed my blood," she shakily announced, trying not to sound terrified. "They were making an immunity to my powers. The attack was a test. And it worked. My magic did not work on Dominic."

  Silence.

  Silence, as this disturbing truth sank in.

  "Um—" Charlie shook his head. "Are you sure, Melinda?"

  "Can we even confirm this for sure?" Michael asked no one in particular.

  Her brothers were stunned, and she realized not questioning her judgment, but the idea that this was even possible.

  "My own magic didn't touch him," she replied. "It was like it just fizzled or something. I had two direct hits and they did nothing. Lucas' magic worked. The potions too, which were not made by me. The bastard wasn't even afraid of me. He was waiting for me to attack and he was not afraid of me, at all."

  "Um—okay." Charlie was at a loss for words. Even Lizzy could only muster a comforting pat on his arm.

  William forced the snarl in his throat to stay there. His beloved was afraid. How had he missed it? Right, he'd been so focused on getting Stricker to talk, amongst other things, like protecting Melinda from demons, that he missed what she really needed protection from—her own self-doubt.

  She hadn't wanted his help, or anyone's, and he understood why. It was out in the open in her mind and she was showing him freely. She was afraid of falling back into old habits. Of becoming the person she was before—only, it didn't matter to him what she was, he loved her any way she came. He nudged this thought into her mind. And while she appreciated it, he was aware it didn't solve the problem in that she needed to love and trust herself too.

  He whispered in her ear.

  "Perhaps it is not a short distance to victory, but a long-distance battle that takes time. But know, please, Melinda, that I am always on your side and will do whatever you ask of me. Whatever you need of me, it's yours."

  What she wanted was to disappear and curl up in his arms—that or a dark corner to be alone. And that was the wrong thing to do and she knew it—the curling up in a dark corner part, anyway. She linked her fingers with William's and for now, it was enough to know she could borrow on his strength for a little while.

  The hush in the kitchen morphed into low whispers like they were all afraid of being heard, or that somehow by speaking about this new development, it would somehow make it real. But it was real, and they needed to deal with this problem fast.

  Mathew had been pacing and stopped and the hush returned as they listened to him speak.

  "If the demons have someone like me, a potion maker, they might have the ability to create a magical immunity. I know this because I conjured up such a thing in my own lab many years ago—as a potential weapon to use against Charlotte Howard," he explained. "Should the evil witch's plan to return to the future actually work, we needed a backup plan. My work was kept under secure lock and key and has never been used. Again, the reasoning being everything to do with power and not letting anyone have too much."

  "Something demons have no concern over," said Rae, joining the conversation after listening intently alongside Riley and the others.

  "Especially now that we know the truce between you wasn't honored," Lizzy added.

  "And not to state the obvious, Mathew," said Melinda, with an over dramatic eyeroll.

  "They do have me. I don't know how. I don't know who this Markus is."

  Lizzy meandered over to William, thoughtful. A plan in her mind.

  "Can I borrow you for a minute?" she asked the vampire.

  He eyed Melinda in concern.

  "I'm okay. Go. I'll be right here," she promised.

  Lizzy and William disappeared into his study, probably to do research Melinda imagined. She got the impression Lizzy had a theory about something and no one was faster or better at finding the info than William.

  Lucas comforted Mathew. "We'll find out who Markus is."

  "He really looked like you?" Riley asked.

  "Almost a perfect match," Lucas answered with a shudder.

  "Freakishly so," agreed Melinda. "And while I think it's important to find out who Markus is and what he's up to, I think we need to lay it on the table that demons are not only building an army, but one immune to magic."

  "One witch at a time?" Michael wondered. "It might be our only advantage, if it's one witch at a time." But they were not foolish enough to think it was any true advantage, or that the demons wouldn't use the blood to accomplish other evil things.

  Lucas' gaze narrowed. "Not that your point isn't totally valid, Melinda, because it is, but there is another giant elephant in the room we haven't talked about yet—" everyone turned to him while he aimed his words at her. "How did Dominic attack you using magic?"

  "Shit." That's right, in all the chaos she'd forgotten she'd almost flown through Grace's window because Dominic had used magic on her.

  "Are we sure it wasn't the demon at work?" wondered Mack.

  "It was definitely Dominic," Melinda said. She heard the disgruntled snarl of William distant in the study. Yup, Dominic wasn't winning any points in the not getting torn apart by a vampire...

  "Witches blood used to be stolen a lot more than it is today," Courtney reminded. "Because it offered temporary power."

  "But it would have to be used fast to serve any real purpose," Michael added. "We can hope it was a onetime thing."

  "But we'd be idiots if we wrote Dominic off the table," Charlie agreed.

  This was truly the most terrifying war ever to be fought. And if they'd thought Rae was enough to balance out their odds, they'd never been so gravely mistaken. With demons stealing powers and creating ways to block magic... the scales were tipping, and not to the side of good.

  CHAPTER 8

  THE SECOND ATTACK ON Melinda and subsequent events had everyone in a haze of action.

  Mack was off patrolling the Isle—meaning she was at the Wicked Muddy Café warning Grace and therefore the other locals to keep their eyes and ears on the alert.

  Courtney was doing perimeter checks while Lizzy and William were deep in research which let Michael and Emily call together another Grand Coven meeting. The others debated who Markus was and just what possibilities the demons had using Howard blood. A dark theory was forming, and it had them rushing to the basement to question their reluctant prisoner.

  The Feyk wasn't looking so good, having been locked up for weeks now. Annie's questioning thus far had only proven what they'd already known, but after this second attack and their debate just now, she had new questions to ask. Better questions. And she was out of patience.

  The vampire flashed into the cell, grabbed the bastard by the collar and snarled in his face.

  "Was it demons who hired you to destroy Courtney Jessup's coven?"

  Nothing like a direct yes or no question that had the Feyk's features flushing with a shock of truth he could not conceal fast enough. The bastard fought off the truth in his features and snarled out a defiant no.

  Annie twisted to see the others near the entrance. "He's lying. It was demons." She faced Stricker again. "Did they require you to steal their blood?"

  The Feyk snarled out an incoherent answer and Annie's grip tightened to the point of almost cracking bone. So much for no torture, although, the Feyk should consider himself lucky, she decided. She could make this a thousand times worse and they needed answers.

  She released enough pressure for him to answer.

  "Yes," the prick Feyk hissed out in defeat. "Yes. We killed them. Stole their blood. Demons hired us. Amara," he slithered. "And another, Markus."

  Annie dropped the Feyk bastard to the floor, his only purpose in being alive, over now, the truth, his own death sentence. But he'd remain a living prisoner, for now, in case they needed him again.

  Stricker had confirmed their worst fear—demons were behind the attacks on witches. Not just Melinda. Her attack wasn't j
ust a localized problem, demons were behind all the attacks. They'd murdered Courtney's coven and stole their blood for experiments. They were trying to build immunity to magic, and not just Howard Witch magic... and just that one possibility alone was frightening as hell.

  An hour later, the family meeting was back in full force, the kitchen a blaze of talk and plans and coffee. Courtney returned from security checks and was a mix of elation, vindication, and feeling completely lost after hearing what Stricker had confessed.

  Part of her wanted to strangle the life out of the prick. Part of her wanted to bask in the relief of knowing what really happened. And part of her wanted to throw a tantrum of epic proportions because knowing didn't change anything. It didn't change the outcome—her coven, and Bree, her fiancé, were all still dead.

  She tried to pay attention to what else was going on, but her thoughts wound inward. Her energy and odd combination of feeling defeated and needing to run a thousand miles to burn off this fire growing in her belly.

  The room hushed as Lizzy and William strode into the room with one of the thick Howard history book volumes and slammed it down on the counter.

  "We solved one mystery." She eyed Mathew. "I had William help me search the history books until he found what I was looking for. Would've taken me forever at a human pace."

  "And what did you find?" Lucas asked on his lover's behalf.

  "You had a twin brother, Mathew. It's said he died before you came to live on the Isle. Actually, he was lost in the attack that brought you to the Isle. Markus died with your mother." She eyed Mathew as if this had more meaning but did not explain further as if it was Mathew's choice to reveal what that meant.

  "I was not quite two when the attack happened," Mathew recalled, shock heavy in his words. "I have no memory of this. Of him." Or hell, even his mother really. He'd known little about her until after his own death and he'd become a Guardian.

  "You wouldn't remember, Mathew, you were a baby," Lizzy replied. "And your father kept the secret other than to the town elders—the Elder Howard—" she clarified. "He wrote it in the official history, but it was never made public. Probably a tragedy your father wanted to forget," she offered in simple explanation.