A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Books 1-7 (Wicked Good Witches Seasons) (91 page)

She felt no hope in this action. Only delay of the inevitable.

Melinda kept her gaze down, knowing William was close. She couldn’t look at him or she’d lose it, completely.

She overheard Eva talking to Stricker.

“I’m properly satisfied. The vampire’s practically dead, and definitely suffering.
Bargain kept
,” she told him.

Stricker let out a requited hiss.

Eva’d already come to this conclusion hours prior and had informed Stricker where the power source was located. But she made it official.

Stricker set into readying a trap for the Howards. But her satisfaction over William’s suffering made the bargain officially fulfilled.

He’d still die. But not until the right moment.

The Feyk held Melinda firmly in their grasp. Her body shook uncontrollably. The feeling returning to her legs in painful spasms. The cold and dread, burrowing into her bones.

When she could stand on her own, the Feyk let go.

She wobbled some, but remained upright.

Another arm grabbed her, forcing her to walk. It was Eva.

“Hey! Where are you taking her?” Riley shouted after them. Suddenly concerned about her again. 

“Someone please knock him out,” implored Stricker. “He can finish off the vampire when we’re done with the baby Howard,” he directed at Eva.

“Fine with me. Give dear old William a little more time to sear, and ponder his miserable end.”

Melinda let out a disgusted grunt.

They stopped.

Eva forced Melinda to look at her.

“This is all your fault you know. You guys have no one to blame but yourselves. If you’d just let my mother live, my father would never have become obsessed by this place. We never would have come back here. He wouldn’t be dead. Charlie never would have become a werewolf. And your vampire wouldn’t be a crispy critter. But all those things did happen, and will happen... because of you.”

Melinda didn’t argue. All she could do was agree. 

“Let’s get this done,” said Stricker, impatiently.

They shoved Melinda so she was standing in front of another pile of wood. William’s pyre. They spun her around, her back facing William.

She knew what was coming. She’d seen it in her dream. Her teeth chattered, she never remembered feeling so cold.
I won’t be cold in a few minutes
her delirious mind joked.

Lucas shouted from inside the cage. She did not dare lift her head to look at him. To see his fear over her impending death would be too much to handle.

He went silent quite suddenly.

Had they knocked him out again? She refused to look.

Melinda had but a moment to steel herself. And a moment to say goodbye to William. She had no idea if he was even still alive enough to hear her.

“I’m so sorry, William.” Her voice wavered, but she whispered to him anyway. She needed to tell him before it was too late. “So sorry I didn’t tell you everything. Sorry that I’m always afraid. This is happening because I was too afraid to tell you the truth. Now I’m just afraid to lose you. You’re dying because of me. And…” She let out a sob, biting her lip to stop. “I love you… I love you, William. I know I shouldn’t… and I was trying very hard not to. I should have just told you but I…” she gasped, unfriendly hands yanking on her body to spin her around so she was facing William. She closed her eyes, refusing to look.

She wondered how they would burn her.

Would they tie her up with him, or just douse her in gas and light a match?

This was not ending like her dream vision at all.

William would not save her life, nor she his. Instead, they would both die.

“Perfect lighting,” she heard Eva saying.

Melinda couldn’t stand waiting any longer and almost screamed for them to just do it already. She wanted it to end. 

“No, this is no excellent,” Eva spoke. “She needs to open her eyes though, so we can get her reaction. That’s the priceless part.”

This made no sense to Melinda. She jumped when someone came up behind her and yanked on her hair, pulling her head up.

A hand snaked around her neck pulling back her matted hair. Stricker’s insidious slither drilled into her ear. “Come now, open your eyes like an obedient little pet.”

She shook her head stubbornly, keeping her eyes firmly closed.

His bony fingers dithered across her neck.

She tried not to shudder, giving him the pleasure he so obviously sought in her discomfort, but she could not control her body from flinching. 

“How about I take one of your little friends out of the cage and kill them? Does that change your mind, Baby Howard?”

She let out a cry. He knew he had her.

Melinda was going to have to open her eyes. They were going to make her look at William before they killed her.

How was it possible that evil like this existed? All because of the desire for power. And a
potential
power source. They weren’t even sure it was in White Pines. And on Eva’s part, revenge…

There was no preparing herself for what she was about to do. She already knew what William’s body was going to look like.

Stricker let go of her. “Any time now,” he warned. “I don’t have all day.”

Melinda lowered her head, opening her eyes. She tried to calm herself but the fear of knowing what she was about to look at, crippled her. She couldn’t allow Emily or Lucas to suffer because of her. She’d done enough damage already. 

Melinda raised her head.

Beholding the devastation she’d inflicted upon William.

Her world stopped.

Her eyes frozen open, the sight of him forever cemented into her memory.

“Time to pass along a little message,” spouted Eva. She had her phone aimed at Melinda, recording a video of her reaction. “Give those Howard boys a little incentive to get moving. I really thought dear old daddy would have shown up by now, especially to save his precious daughter. You witches are usually so predictable.”

Melinda didn’t hear Eva’s ranting. She didn’t hear Eva mention her father.

She only saw the man she loved suspended on a pyre, his bonds barely holding him upright, burned and scarred beyond recognition.

This was the price of her stupidity. For not telling him the truth.

She had no right to claim she loved him.

She deserved whatever punishment she got.

Her legs gave out and she dropped to her knees.

“Oh, that is splendid,” trilled Stricker, from behind Eva.

Melinda had given them the reaction they desired.

A numbness spread through her. There wasn’t anything else left to feel.

Eva turned her video shot from Melinda’s fallen frame, to William’s pyre, sure to get a good clear shot of William.

“Oh, yes, most effective,” agreed Stricker, grinning like a naughty child who’d just stolen a cookie. 

Melinda barely noticed the Feyks dragging her to William’s pyre and seating her on it.

Maybe this was how they’d do it.

Tie her down and burn them both.

Recording it for her brothers to watch and relive, over and over again. 

Eva let the camera sit on William and Melinda.

“I think you’ve gotten the message,” stated Eva coldly. “Get here. Get the fucking door open. Or watch your precious little witch join your toasty vampire while we have ourselves a bonfire.” She stopped recording and hit send, to Charlie’s cell phone.

“That should get a reaction,” sang Stricker.

“
That
will get the reaction you’re looking for,” corrected Eva. “Just too bad it will take so long to send. Long video. Shitty cell service out here in the woods.”

Stricker let out a delighted dark chuckle. “You know, I’ve never considered taking on an outside partner, but you’d be most welcomed if you decided you wanted a job. I like the way you do business.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Stricker sucked in the air with a gratified inhale. “Can you smell that, Eva? That’s victory in the air.”

“Funny,” she retorted. “All I can smell is sautéed vampire.”

CHAPTER 5

Michael’s head jerked up as the door to the Wicked Muddy Café, opened.

“Parades over, everyone’s on their way,” announced Grace, coming inside. She taped a sheet of paper on the door that said,
Closed for a private party. Will reopen in one hour.

Outside, the streets were at their most crowded of the summer season, packed with tourists. Many already grabbing and saving prime spots to watch the famous fireworks display later that night.

Michael arrived just a few minutes before, having spent the morning, along with Mack, tracking down the long time locals; the ones that knew of the Isle’s supernatural background.

Michael propped open the front door, nodding to everyone as they arrived. It took much longer than he’d hoped as they struggled to make way through the crowds to the café.

“I should have picked a more out of the way location,” he noted. He hadn’t expected to be away from home this long. He had just checked in with Charlie, and there had been no contact yet from Eva or the Feyk.

Just outside, down the sidewalk, reporter, Courtney Jessup, hid behind a lamppost to avoid being seen by Michael. She peeked out, glancing through the bustling tourists, wondering what was happening. She watched as the local sheriff arrived and the door was shut, and locked.

“Very suspicious,” she whispered. She wondered if she could get close enough to overhear anything. Perhaps luck out and find an open window... “Or maybe a back door,” she said under her breath. She slipped through the crowd and into a side alley that went to the back of the cafe.

Voices.

She grinned smugly.

She kept just to the side of the back door, out of sight.

Inside, the meeting was starting.

“Thanks for coming,” said Mack. “I’ll make this as short and sweet as possible. You’re all here because you know what goes on ‘round here. The real stories, not the malarkey I make up!” Everyone laughed at that, agreeing. Even Michael let out a chuckle, as Mack had come up with some doozies in her time as sheriff.

“Now, if I’m callin’ ya all together, it’s obvious we’re in some serious trouble.” Her tone lowered.

Everyone nodded, hushed mummers spreading.

“In times like this, we all have to come together and support each other. Our way of life on the Isle is at stake. Our entire island is at stake. As well as the lives of our protectors...” she directed at Michael. “They need our help to make sure this doesn’t happen. You see,
we are under attack.
By these things called Firebrand Feyks, and a woman named, Eva Jordan. Most of you would recognize her if you saw her… she’s the chick that’s been running around the Isle all summer with the long, stark-white hair.”

They did recall her.

“Thought she was pretty,” said old Freddy Collier. He had helped the Howards when they’d free Lizzy from her ghastly condition a few weeks prior.

“She might be pretty,” started Mack, “but also deadly! I have the unfortunate duty to inform you all that this Eva Jordan, murdered Emily Morgan’s father.” They gasped, shocked over this news. “She is to be considered armed and dangerous. Should any of you see her, or happen across her, call me at once. At
no
time, should you attempt to interact with Eva Jordan or try to capture her. She might look like a normal woman, but she’s got…
extra talents…
”

She waited until they’d each confirmed with her that they understood.

“The same goes with the Feyk. You will recognize them as the
strange looking men
that have been reported across the Isle. I guess they come from some Fae line... I don’t pretend to understand what I’m talking about here, but the point bein’, they ain’t your friendly neighborhood faerie with wings. Should you witness one of these men, report it directly to me. Do not engage them. We do not yet know their intentions. But for the sake of understandin’ how dangerous they
can
be, it is possible they have captured and are holdin’ prisoner, Melinda Howard, Emily Morgan, Lucas Deane, and the vampire, William Wakefield.”

Shocked gasps and worried cries echoed through the café.

Mack raised her hands to calm them. “Don’t make me regret lettin’ you guys in on what’s going on. I do not say this to cause a panic. Only to impress upon you how serious this situation has become. And why we are seekin’ out your help.”

“What about my wife and children?” asked a man. “Should I have them leave the Isle?”

“No. I do not think it will come to this.”

Michael took over.

“The supernatural community prefers to remain a secret. Regardless of what you’ve seen on the D.E.S.I. Report the last few days,” he added. “The Demon Isle is a special case, because our world here is more open to these things existing. But they don’t actually want the real world to know they exist. You are all perfectly safe. Unless… tonight goes badly,” he admitted. He started to wonder if everyone on the Isle was in much more danger than any of them had thought. He couldn’t think like that. Even during the Deane war, the locals had remained. But the Isle had a much smaller residency back then.

Mack took over again. “What I am suggestin’ is that you keep your families close, at home, or if you’re out, stay with a crowd. I would avoid venturin’ out alone. Our goal, and what we’re hoping you guys can help us with, is settin’ up a distraction that will cloak the sounds of the battle. At the same time, the big fireworks show downtown will keep the tourists busy.”

She saw a few people texting and making urgent phone calls. She raised her arms, gathering their attention.

“I’m not trying to start a panic here, guys. But this is the first time in over seventy years we’ve been under this kind of attack. I simply want you all to be aware, be mindful, and more than anything, be careful. We are going to let the Howards do their job.
Yes?
” She again waited for each of them to show their compliance.

Michael sensed the rush of alarm subside just a little.

“So what exactly do you want from us?” asked a man he recognized as his old school bus driver, Rob Tebow. Far as he knew, he was still driving kids to school.

“Tonight’s battle is taking place in White Pines,” explained Michael.

“What we’ll need for starters,” began Mack, “is a few of you willin’ to be lookouts to stop pesky tourists from sneakin’ into the park. We’re all aware how stubborn the
from-aways
can be,” she added with a wink.

Everyone agreed. The tourists, a.k.a. from-aways, often refused to heed warnings and rules on the Isle, often to their own detriment.

“I, myself, will stand guard at the park’s main entrance. I’ll have it taped off and before all this I’ll come up with some excuse as to why… bear sighting or some such thing…”

“We don’t have any bears…” noted Michael.

“Tourists don’t have to know that,” she returned.

“Touche.”

“And as for the rest of you,” Mack continued. “The battle might get loud. So we need you to celebrate the Fourth of July. Do what the tourists already come here to do, but in the loudest most obnoxious manner possible. We need you to put on the largest, most kick-ass fireworks show this dang Isle’s ever seen!”

“But it’s got to be timed just right,” warned Michael. “We need it to start precisely when we need it to. A lot of the tourists will already be starting their celebrations early, heck some of them already have, but we can’t count on them or their consistency.”

“How will we know when to start?” someone hollered. “How often do we set them off?”

“We are going to alert Mack, and she’ll let you know when to begin,” explained Michael. “As per how often, as often as you can without running out before the big show kicks off.”

“Seems easy enough,” summed up Freddy. Everyone agreed.

“So what if things go badly tonight? What then?” It was Michael’s old bus driver again.

“You’ll hear every air horn, from every lighthouse on the Isle, blaring. And if
that
happens…”

“Get the hell outta dodge,” finished Grace, gruffly. “What a thought. That it could come to that.”

“Let’s hope not.”

“It won’t,” assured Michael. He realized that without even feeling it, his emotions had turned back on. The numb block that had gone up after finding Emily’s father dissolved. He sensed the local’s fears and needed to say something to allay those fears from turning into panic.

“We won’t allow that to happen. My family has been protecting this Isle for hundreds of years and we’ve never lost a battle yet. We won’t lose this one either.” He sighed, revealing to them, “We can’t lose, because even though a few of our members are currently prisoners of the Feyk… we have a secret weapon.”

He knew exactly what to say. Exactly what they needed to hear. What would give them the confidence and hope they needed.

“Our father, Jack Howard…” Michael shook his head, hardly still able to believe it himself. “Our father is alive. And he’s back.”

It was the exact reaction he expected.

Mack winked at him. She liked the move. It proved smart.

Everyone on the Isle loved Jack and his wife. They trusted them with their lives. They wanted to know how he’d come back and where he’d been, but Mack raised her arms to stop them again.

“All in good time, folks.” She turned to Michael. “I can take over from here. Why don’t you get home now? I’m sure they need you there. Good job,” she tossed at him in a whisper.

“Thanks.” He started for the door. Each step capturing the emotions hanging in the room. It overfilled him. It didn’t exactly please him. He’d hoped the break would have lasted longer. It was nice to have only his own feelings rolling around in his head. He’d started to forget what it even felt like.

The emotions pouring out of the townsfolk ran the gamut from worried and nervous, to eager and excited to help, to emitting sorrow and empathy for the task ahead, to excitement and confusion that Jack had somehow returned from the dead.

Michael wanted to say something, but found he could not find the right words. He slipped out and worked through the crowd toward home.

“Okay, then. Now that Michael’s gone. There is one other topic that must be addressed. I didn’t want to talk about it in front of him.” She looked at a young man named, Alex. “Would you mind parkin’ your ambulance outside the park entrance and hang out with me tonight?”

“I’m supposed to do my shift downtown, near the fireworks. Someone
always
blows off a finger or a hand.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. Anyway, I’ll make sure that’s covered,” said Mack. “You’re the only one here with medical knowledge and I’ll tell you right now, it’s the first time I’ve ever feared it might be needed. I’ll give you all their blood types… you can make sure to have enough, just in case?”

“Absolutely.”

“You really think it’s going to be that bad?” asked Grace.

Mack sighed. “I’ve never been so certain of it in all my life,” she answered frankly. “I do feel secure in our plans. And the Howard’s plans. And I’m not gonna to call for any evacuation of the Isle. Michael was right when he said that supernatural types do prefer to remain hidden from the outside world. But…”

“You’re not sure the Howards will come out of this unscathed…” Grace finished.

“No. And I want to be prepared, just in case.”

“Better safe than sorry,” said Alex, stating the obvious. “You can count on me.”

“Good. Now, everyone else. I’ll let you talk amongst yourselves, if any few of you are willin’ to be lookouts as I was discussing earlier, let me know, otherwise, I need you all to follow me to the police storage unit. A few at a time, I don’t want to raise any suspicions. I’ll load you up with all the fireworks you can carry.”

Mack then proceeded to give them all a robust reminder on firework safety.

Hearing all she needed to, the reporter, Courtney Jessup left the alley, debating whether to follow Michael Howard and see if she could learn more, or head directly into White Pines. She didn’t want to get involved in a battle she knew nothing about. It wasn’t why she was here.

“The witches are scared. The locals are scared. But Stricker is just a few miles from here, and I’ve never gotten this close.”

She wanted his name crossed off her hit list. 

Courtney glanced down at her high heels and mini-skirt suit. It was no outfit to wear for a stroll through a national park.