A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Books 1-7 (Wicked Good Witches Seasons) (18 page)

CHAPTER 7

Charlie and Michael stepped into the study.

“You two find anything useful?” Michael asked.

“No,” William answered without lifting his head from the laptop. He squinted at the screen and looked at the keypad, typing a letter. “Look at that. You type it here and then it shows up…” his eyes rolled over to the brothers, staring at him in momentary delight.

“My gosh, William,” Emily blurted, shaking her head in well-meaning humor. “For a vampire who moves at speeds I can’t even fathom, you are the worst typist I have ever laid eyes on!” She marched over and motioned for him to move.

William frowned but rolled his chair out of her way.

“Okay, let’s see here. What question do you want answered, William?”

“What allows a werewolf to transform on a night that is not a full moon, at the same time allowing it to pass on its curse, as if it is a full moon?”

“Um, that’s what you want the internet to answer for you? I don’t think that answer is just going to pop up, William. I mean, it’s a bit…
huh…
”

“Huh, what?” Michael leaned over her shoulder to look.

“Well, I don’t really know if this is at all helpful, as this is a chat forum for a popular fantasy series, so fiction, but this one guy, his name is RadWolfman… hey, Charlie, maybe you should pick up a nickname,” she sputtered, getting sidetracked. “That would be way cool.”

Michael just rolled his eyes.

“Not such a bad idea,” said Charlie. “I’ve been called a few things over the years…” he let his sentence trail off.

William rolled back over to read the screen. Emily shot him a steely look and he retreated.

“As I was saying. This one guy, RadWolfman, he’s on here a lot, and a few months back he posted about our very topic. Apparently, there’s some heated debate surrounding a werewolf character in a book that can only change into an actual werewolf during a full moon, but…” she kept reading, “it can also transform into a regular wolf…
oh,
” she said, surprised. “This werewolf is also a shapeshifter. Are those real?”

William leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed as he thought on the subject.

“Yes,” Michael told her. “Shifters are real. But even if that happens to be what we’re looking for... if it was shifted into a wolf form, but not transformed into an actual werewolf, how did you get infected?” he aimed at Charlie. 

“Because it is still werewolf blood,” William whispered. “The wolf still resides in those that are bitten whether transformed or not. A shapeshifter taking on the form of a wolf could still pass on the curse. A weakened form, possibly, which could explain your wolfish nature, but why you have never fully transformed.”

William bounded out of his chair, sending it rolling across the floor behind him.

“That said, this is all conjecture. I do not pretend to know all the ins and outs of werewolfdom. It could be that the witch’s blood that courses through your veins is keeping the full transformation at bay. It could be that nothing, in the end, can keep you from a full transformation, if the right trigger is used against you. More importantly, if it is a shapeshifter we are searching for…”

“It could be
anyone
...” Michael finished, gloom in his tone. 

“Oh my.” Emily cleared her throat, attempting to sound upbeat. “I’ll keep searching. There’s bound to be other possibilities.”

While she returned to searching, Charlie held up his phone. “Going to try to reach Melinda.” He ignored the subject of the shapeshifter theory and stepped out of the study.

Before making the call, he leaned his back against the hallway wall.

“Keep it together, Charlie. Keep it together.” He closed his eyes, bursts of dark lights forming under his eyelids, thoughts swimming through his brain threatening to overwhelm him. He wondered if this is what Melinda felt like when she was getting a panic attack. He opened his eyes and dialed her cell phone number, confused when he heard her phone ringing inside the house. He followed the sound into the kitchen.

“Damn it!” he groaned in frustration, picking her phone up off the floor. “She probably doesn’t even know she dropped it.” He leaned into the counter, thinking he could really use a shot or two of Nina’s tequila.

He had assumed Melinda would return after a few minutes. More importantly, he was beginning to doubt he was going to be able to keep his promise.

Nothing was right with this situation.

If he did transform and the alpha took over… if he did not transform but got himself killed trying to get rid if this thing. Or say they did kill the alpha werewolf… then what?

I’m still stuck with this monster I don’t know how long I can control… it’s never going to just go away. It is always going to be inside of me.

##

Michael explained to William about their plan to visit the crime scene while Emily typed away on her laptop. 

“Do you think it’s safe for us to venture into the park?” asked Michael. “We don’t know where this alpha could be lurking.”

“Logic tells me it is safe. The crime scene will be busy with police and such, scouring the area for evidence. The park itself is likely to be filled with tourists.”

“If tradition holds, lots of people would mean no supernatural creatures wanting to expose themselves,” Michael agreed. He let slip out, “I think Charlie’s losing the battle, William. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s trying so hard to keep his shit together, but there is this
fear
drowning him. He doesn’t think he’s going to make it.”

“Which is why I am coming with you today.” He held up his hand before Michael could argue. “I know the risks of coming into contact with a werewolf.” 

“I hate to admit it, but I’d feel better if you were with us, William. If something happens and Charlie loses it, I don’t think…” Emily let out an exasperated moan. “Something new?” Michael asked, hopeful.

“No. Nothing. Nothing at all!” she exclaimed. “Either it’s a shapeshifter, or it’s something none of us,
including a four-hundred-year-old vampire
, have ever heard of, read about, or dealt with before.”

Michael cast a glance at William.

He wore his usual emotionless face.

Michael wished his empathic abilities worked on William. However, the vampire had always said that this was a good thing, as his emotions were more intense than a human mind could handle. 

“Let’s get this trip underway,” Michael suggested, seeing as William would give away no more about how he truly felt about their current predicament. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something.” He didn’t hold out much hope for that to happen.  

They stepped into the kitchen to find Charlie.

“William’s coming with us,” Michael informed him.

“Yeah, okay.” There wasn’t even a threat of argument in his tone. He held up Melinda’s cell phone. “She dropped it when she stormed out of here earlier.”

“She’s probably sitting down at the Wicked Muddy,” Michael said. “Grace took a liking to her. I think Melinda felt comfortable there. You know she isn’t going to stray too far. This is Melinda we’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time controlling the paranoia. The wolf really drags it out of me.”

Emily saddled into the kitchen. “Why don’t I look for her? If she’s in town, I’ll find her.”

Michael grabbed hold of her, brushing his hand against her hair and kissed her affectionately. “Thanks, Em. I know we said we’d give her some space, but we’d feel a lot better if we just knew she was okay.” He walked her to the front door.

Emily moved to leave, but he grabbed her again planting another kiss. “I just can’t get enough of that,” he mumbled in between their lips tugging at each other.

“You could have been getting that a long time ago if you weren’t so stubborn.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I’ll see you later,” she mouthed with a grin, pulling away. She grabbed her bag and flitted out the door.

Michael rejoined Charlie and William.

Charlie leaned hesitantly against the countertop. 

“I was thinking, since we’re heading into White Pines anyway, maybe we should take a side trip to the old tree. I had wanted us all to go together and pay our respects to Mom, and search for clues about Dad, but since we’re going to be so close…”

“What do you think, William?” asked Michael, glad that Charlie had brought it up.  He’d had the thought himself, but couldn’t decide if it was appropriate considering the circumstances for their visit into White Pines.

“I don’t see the harm,” the vampire conceded after a moment. “It is just minutes from the crime scene.”

“Um, that’s kind of coincidental, don’t you think, William?” said Charlie, that fact just dawning on him.

“It had not occurred to me.” William pondered this new quandary worried it was some vital clue he had overlooked. It seemed ridiculously obvious, definitely something he should have seen before now. Especially since Melinda wasn’t close, clouding his thoughts.

“William?” questioned Charlie.

“Sorry. Not sure why I didn’t catch the possibility sooner. I think we would be remiss to call it mere coincidence, and if we are going to add a trip to the old tree to our itinerary, I think we’d better bring along a few precautionary items.”

“I’ll go grab some potions,” said Charlie. “We’ll be careful with them,” he aimed at Michael. “We still need to use them, regardless of what happened to Mom.”

“I know. Like you said though, we’ll be more careful. I’ll go grab a crystal.” He took off to get it.

“And I will grab a snack, just in case,” William intimated.

“So much human blood in one week?” jested Charlie, understanding what
lunch
meant. “Maybe one out-of-control supernatural monster in the house is enough?” His voice reeked with sarcasm. 

William’s mouth turned up into the slightest of smiles. “Ah, but I can handle my poison.” Although after his Melinda blood cravings in the last twenty-four hours, he wasn’t so sure about that anymore...

Charlie could not help but laugh. It felt good to joke with William, even in the face of the dangers they likely faced in the upcoming hours.

CHAPTER 8

Melinda told Riley to slow down and take the next right. It was a sharp turn, and he nearly had to come to a complete stop to do it safely.

“Where’s it lead?”

She just smiled and nodded for him to pay attention.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied.

If Melinda hadn’t pointed out the turn, Riley would never have seen it. The trail was unmarked and just wide enough for a small car to fit through. The ground was smoothed over from years of use, so the motorcycle had no trouble even though it was unpaved. The trees and bushes surrounding the sides of the road grew tall, threatening to reclaim the road to its natural wild state.

Soon, they came to a blockade of granite rock about three feet in height, and he parked the bike. A look of awe spread across his face. 

“What is this place?”

“It’s where we locals like to get our kicks,” she answered, dismounting the bike and taking off her helmet. He did the same, grabbing hers and hanging them both on the bike.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Are we still in Maine?” he joked.

“Neat, huh? It’s a quarry, been here since long before I was born. To be completely honest though, I haven’t been here in years. But things don’t really change much on the Isle. C'mon.” She grabbed his hand daringly, dragging him along to the edge. There was no other person in sight.

Melinda let go of him and shouted into the quarry. Her echo carried to the other side, repeating her shout until the last echo finally faded into the distance.  

“Wicked,” Riley chuckled.

“I don’t know why I did that,” she blurted out, her cheeks blushing. “Haven’t screamed into the quarry since I was a kid.” It was a silly childish thing to do.

“I don’t think any less of you,” he responded with a chuckle. “Besides, sometimes screaming can be fun.” The look he wore said he had a much different kind of screaming on his mind.

Melinda cleared her throat, her brain going utterly incoherent for a moment. She swept her gaze away from him, peering back into the quarry. Could he actually think of her like that? Rolls of excitement stemmed from her chest down to her thighs, but each stem met with a sharp jab of doubt. He was just being nice. Or flirty. But nothing more.

Why couldn’t being with a guy be as easy as it was in her dreams? In her mind, it always worked out so perfectly. So smoothly. Unless prophetic dreams got in the way.

Real life was a lot more work. And was much more awkward.

She refocused on the quarry, missing her visits here. Which seemed stupid seeing as it was just a short drive from her home. She hadn’t been here once in the last four years.

Funny,
she could not help but think.

What an odd thing to have such a sudden desire to be outdoors and free, the thought of being stuck inside her house completely suffocating.  

The quarry resembled a steep granite staircase, leading down to open water below. Except that you could only catch glimpses of the water as drifting fog rolled across the surface where the summer heat hit the damp granite, warming it. The warmed air rose up out of the quarry giving the place an almost sauna-esque feel. Off to the right, a river poured into the quarry, creating a long waterfall that splashed far below.

Melinda sat down, kicked off her flip-flops, and dangled her feet over the edge of the quarry. Riley joined her, sitting so close he could have easily leaned in and nibbled on her ear. She didn’t know why that picture came into her mind but her cheeks flushed at the thought of him doing so.

She turned to Riley. “So where are you visiting from?”

“Portland… Oregon, not Maine.”

She nodded, letting out a timid breath. She couldn’t think of anything else to say other than, “It’s like a little slice of paradise here. I’d forgotten how beautiful the quarry is in the summer.”
Really! Boring ass small talk… he’s going to ditch you here for being so dull. You might as well talk about the weather.

“I can’t disagree,” Riley responded. “I think the view is stunning.”

Melinda glanced in his direction and her cheeks turned even rosier when she realized he was looking directly at her when he spoke. Air suddenly seemed impossible to suck into her lungs. She let her bangs hide her face, hoping he could not see her reaction. A flurry of fiery charges ran all over her skin, causing her to shudder.

“You cold?”

“No. Fine,” she breathed out. “It’s actually kind of… hot… I don’t know why I shivered.”

He grinned, wearing a look that said he knew why.

“This place does have a tropical sort of feel to it.” He leaned onto his back, gazing up into the sky. “A person could come here and completely forget they were stuck on an island off the coast of Maine.”

“Do you feel stuck, being here on the Isle?”

“Thought I did.”

She shoved her bangs behind her ear and twisted her body, tossing him a questioning gaze.

“I just mean, maybe it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“So you’re not just visiting?”

“Nope. Not a tourist. My brother talked me into moving here with him. We just arrived a couple days ago. He’s a few years older than me, been wanting to move here for a couple years now. I wasn’t really into it myself, but now… I think my mind is changing.”

Melinda leaned back, the sun making an appearance again, warming her skin. It was also an excuse to look away from Riley and find her breath. He wasn’t just a tourist. He was sticking around. She hoped her excitement over that fact wasn’t too obvious.

It was just before noon she thought, squinting into the sky. Plenty of time to discover more about motorcycle man.
And long before the moon rises and Charlie
... she stopped herself, pushing the thought deeply into the recesses of her mind.  

“How old are you?” she asked him, distracting herself. 

“Just turned twenty-two a month ago.”

“Do you and your brother get along?”

“Sure, for the most part. He’s always on me about this and that, and basically getting my act together and growing up and being more serious, like him.”

“Sounds familiar,” she replied dryly.

“You’ve got siblings too then?”

“Couple older brothers.”
Well, maybe tomorrow only one brother that matters,
she thought dreadfully. Another uncertainty she pushed out of her mind.

Riley pulled himself up to his side, facing her, wondering what was really going on in that pretty head of hers. It was a bit like she was having one conversation with him, and another inside her own mind. He didn’t want to push too hard though, and scare her away by prying too deep.

“So, Melinda… will you bite my head off if I ask how old
you
are?” This question might not be any safer, he decided. But he wanted to know anyway.

She turned her head and stared at him as if debating the question. “Nah, I’m too comfortable for biting right now.”

He pouted, waiting for an answer.

“If you must know, I’m a mere baby of twenty-one.” 

“That’s hardly a mere baby.” There was a devilish innuendo in his tone.

“Not what my brothers think.” Her thoughts added,
not like I’ve given them reason to think otherwise the last few years…

“Are you seeing anyone?” he blurted it out as if he’d just gotten up the nerve. His voice held a tinge of apprehension. 

She didn’t answer right away. Her throat clammed up.

It wasn’t a question she’d been expecting. Or had ever been asked before.

And did bad dates, steamy dreams, or off limit vampires count?

No. Definitely not.

“I’m taking that’s a yes,” he said rather glumly. 

“Oh, sorry. Um. No. Actually that’s very big
no
.”

“Am I bringing up a bad subject?”

“Not really. It’s just kind of a loaded question. I’ve had a series of very disastrous dates.” She shook her head, unable to explain further. And did three dates in the last two years even count as a series? And surely, he didn’t want to hear about them.

“Well, I’m sorry they went badly.” Riley didn’t sound sorry. “It’s their loss.”
And my gain,
Melinda could practically hear him add. At least, that’s what she imagined in her mind. She still didn’t believe it.

She leaned down onto her back, soaking in the sun, glad it had reappeared. She could not think up any response to what he’d said. Only that she really liked everything he said. Almost as if he knew every perfect thing to say to her. Everything she wanted to hear.

Hell.
He probably says the same thing to every girl.

Then why am I soaking it up like a sponge? Am I this desperate for male attention?

God. Maybe I am… but he can’t be any worse than jerkwad.

Oh. My. God. Shut the heck up!

This guy… Riley, is nothing like jerkwad.

The ease with which she talked to Riley alone, was ten times better than her attempts to converse with jerkwad.

Frustration mounted. Between getting all worked up over the William dreams with nothing to ever become of them, she was now falling way too easily for a complete stranger. She sucked in a restorative breath, letting her cares go with her exhale.
You’re hanging out with a hot guy, lying in the sun… just shut up and enjoy it!

Mists from the quarry lifted, leaving a moist layer on her face and neck. She let out a low, satisfied groan. “I miss the feel of the sun on my skin. I can’t remember the last time I did this.” 

“It’s been a sunny summer so far. You have fair skin though. You probably prefer the shade, huh?”

“I actually really don’t.” She rolled onto her side to face him again. “I just haven’t seen much sun recently.”

“You’re an odd girl,” he said, inching closer to her. “I don’t mean in a bad way,” he clarified quickly. “The way you talk, though, it’s like you just got out of prison or something.”

She laughed. She couldn't help it.

“Oh, shit. Did you? I didn’t mean…” she put her hand over his mouth.

“I’ve never been in prison, Riley.”
Maybe a prison of my own design…

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and held it in his own hand, stroking her fingers. She was glad right then that he was human and not a vampire like William. Although, as hard as her heart was pounding, she didn’t think he’d need extraordinary hearing to hear, see, or feel the thudding against her chest.

His strokes were so sweet. Soft. And burning her up from the inside out.

No one had ever done that to her… such a simple thing. Tracing her hand with his.  

“I didn’t think you looked like the
been in prison
type. But I’d like to know all your secrets, Melinda, even if you were in prison.”

She thought about that for a minute. Would he really want to know
all
her secrets? Being a witch came with a lot of responsibility. It also came with a lot of danger. She looked into Riley’s molasses eyes. She did not think he would mind a little danger.

“What are you thinking right now?” he asked. “You just got this reckless sparkle in your eyes.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you read people really well?”

“Actually, I’ve been told that more than once. And more than once it’s gotten me into a bit of trouble.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Well, I’ve never been in prison, either, if that’s what you mean,” he raised his eyebrows humorously, allowing her hand to slide back to her side.

She bit her lip, trying to contain herself. Her previous bad dates, or jerkwad, could not hold a candle to Riley. Not in looks or charm. Even if he was just filling her with bullshit. At least he was giving it some effort.   

It took everything she had not to reach out and stroke Riley’s face, or neck, or chest... Melinda let out an exasperated groan and jumped up onto her feet. A burst of needing to get out of her own skin making her edgy and riled up.

Riley might be good to look at and charming, but he was still a total stranger, no matter how comfortable she felt around him. 

“There’s something else I haven’t done in a really long time,” she told him.  

“And what would that be?” he asked, rolling onto his back, gazing up at her.

Her body blocked the sun from stinging his eyes. It left a golden halo around her head.
Fitting,
he thought.

An angel…

How is it she’s not taken?

Something dawned on him.
Series of bad dates… some guy or guys must have been a total ass to her.

How would this even be possible? Every part of her being shouted at him,
would it be too much to ask if someone just loved me, for me?
And for reasons he did not understand, this was all he wanted to do.

She stared down at him, a vexing twinkle in her eyes.