WE WITCHES THREE BOOK 9

ISLE OF TRUTH

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A LONG TIME AGO ON an island not so far away...

The battle was only beginning and expected to last throughout the night.

Young witches in training; seven young men and two young women. The first time women had joined in with battle training, which had been a battle in and of itself. Most fathers refused their daughters into this training thinking it far too barbaric and dangerous. The womenfolk were best at home preparing gardens, cooking up potions, and learning from their mothers how to raise magical children.

Not a task to be taken lightly, and most women were okay with this as raising a household kept them busy enough already. And most had no desire to fight. Although all agreed to the fact that danger was equally capable of finding them as their trained male counterparts. So many of them did learn basic magical defenses, but when it came to planned battles, or potentially dangerous patrols of the Isle, or defending the Isle when attacked, this was the first time two women had been involved.

At almost twenty-three years old, Lisbeth Eugenia Deane scoffed at the idea of being a stay-at-home witch. And thank the heavens so did her father. She often surmised this was something to do with her being an only child and growing up without a mother. Sadly, she died just days after delivering, due to delayed complications of childbirth. A tragedy that struck just as many witches as human women, in the day. Magic couldn’t fix everything. 

Regardless, Lisbeth’s father was proud to have a daughter tough enough to fight right alongside the men. When he was gone from this world, she’d be able to protect herself. And to Lisbeth’s delight, her friend Charlotte Howard had talked her father into allowing her into the training as well.

Lisbeth wondered whether the man had approved at all, or if Charlotte in her impatience had bewitched him into agreeing. It would not have surprised Lisbeth at all to discover this. At twenty-four, Charlotte was already far more talented than most witches twice her age. Her thirst for knowledge drove her to take risks Lisbeth would never dream of taking.

And tonight, after months of training, they were participating in a mock battle.

Against older, much more battle-practiced witches.

This is the way it had been done for years, and one day, she intended to be a trainer or teacher. She’d be the first woman to do so. But before that was a possibility she had to make it through this night. And the males were not cooperating, not that they ever did.

They were mostly younger, in their late teens, but Lisbeth had spent a couple of years campaigning just to get into the training. During which the men mainly ignored her, unwilling to work alongside a woman. One, out of fear they might hurt her, and two, none of them believed she was strong enough to equal them in the field of action. With the exception of Mathew Bishop, the eldest young man in the group, a year older than Lisbeth.

A wiry, taller young man who was uncommonly kind, though not a very talented witch when it came to using magic, or fighting, and someone who could barely get out of his own way and usually caused more trouble than helped. Where he lacked in magical prowess, he made up for with loyalty and good old common sense. Which to Mathew meant if trouble came, get out of the way and let another witch handle it. It wasn’t that he was afraid, just realistic of his general ability to muck things up when they were in a pickle. And an overall awareness that his getting out of the way, was best for self-preservation and the protection of all. 

He was a transplant to the Isle. He’d come as a young lad with his father after his mother had died; they’d been a lone family of witches. A difficult thing to be in these crazy times. It was a Howard Witch who’d first come across the Bishop family living on the mainland and offered them a safer home on the Isle. It was too bad this chance meeting had taken place after the attack that claimed the life of Mathew’s mother.

And here they were now, Lisbeth, Charlotte, and Mathew, a mix-matched team of witches attempting to get from point A, to point B, without getting knocked out. They had to use the skills learned these last months to dodge their attackers and not get stunned by their spells. They were allowed to use magic to defend themselves only, not attack their trainers in return. The goal, to learn to defend themselves in the heat of the moment. If they did get stunned and woke up with enough time before daylight, they were expected to keep going and try again.

It wasn’t really a pass or fail kind of test being that training as a witch continued from childhood to death, all through a witch’s life. However, getting to the destination without getting knocked out definitely had its benefits and earned great respect from the elders of the community. The ones who would choose future trainers, or call upon you to fight, or protect, if the need arose.

The mock battle was not a group effort on behalf of the students. But neither did anyone attempt to sabotage another student. It was simply a test of the knowledge he or she had picked up during training. An assessment to test strengths and weaknesses. This didn’t mean that students didn’t work together like Lisbeth, Charlotte, and Mathew. Actually, Lisbeth would not have been surprised to find all the others working together, just as long as they didn’t have to work alongside the girls, or the guy they considered no better than.

Almost on cue, Mathew tripped over his own feet. Lisbeth cupped his mouth to keep him quiet and helped him before he landed too hard. Charlotte shot a silent but ill-tempered glare in their direction. She was not thrilled with this pairing at all. But Lisbeth refused to let Mathew go off by himself. Who knows what would happen! If it were possible to get lost on an island, Mathew would figure out how. Which in her eyes, for some reason she never quite understood, made him even more lovable. He kept things from getting boring, and she liked that. Plus, he was her best friend and never held it against her she was a girl.

She got him steady on his feet and encouraged him onward. The poor lad looked paler than normal in the streak of moonlight sneaking down into the trees. Charlotte kept watch while they caught up with her.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice muted. “I can’t figure out why my father insists on me doing this.” He was clearly miserable. It was his second year in training, having escaped it the years before with one excuse or another, until he’d run out of them.

“It’s good practice,” Charlotte returned in hushed rebuke. “Now pick up the pace before I leave you both.”

Lisbeth rolled her eyes. Good old Charlotte. One thing she would never learn... patience.

“It’s okay, Mathew,” encouraged Lisbeth. “You’re going to make it to the end. As long as you stick with me at least.” A silent snub to Charlotte. She’d been harder to be around lately. Their friendship strained as Charlotte’s focus on magical training started to overtake everything else in her life. Including lifelong friendships. She was dedicated, Lisbeth owed her friend that at least. As a Howard, it was required. Perhaps that’s why Charlotte worked so hard. The added pressure of being a Howard versus a Deane might definitely push any witch over the edge. 

There was a scrambling thump behind them. Lisbeth spun, palm at the ready. Only to lower it and shake her head. Mathew really was slowing them down at this point. And now he’d fallen over an obvious jutting tree root.

“That’s it!” bleated Charlotte as loudly as she dared. “I’m gone. I suggest you do the same Lisbeth before the imbecile takes you down with him!” A moment later she’d disappeared into the shadows, her light steps no longer heard.

Lisbeth backtracked to help him up.

“She’s right,” Matthew lamented. “You really should leave me. I’m not cut out for this. If I’m lucky, after tonight my father will finally understand and give up. I’d swear it’s because I’m an only child. Last boy in the family and all that.”

“He just wants what’s best for you, and for you to be able to protect yourself, or your future family should the need arise, Mathew.” He flinched at this idea. “Now how bad is your leg?” She pointed at where he was massaging his ankle.

Flashes of light and shouts sent them both flying to the ground. Lisbeth shoved him to the crevice of a fallen log for cover and tucked herself in too. One of the other students was running full speed not far away, a trainer on his trail.

Lisbeth and Mathew stayed still and silent. In no hurry. They had all night and would not move until she was sure the coast was clear. Poor Mathew. Already injured and they’d barely begun. Her heart ached for her friend. He tried so hard, but he was right when he said he wasn’t cut out for battles. No matter how loyal or dear a friend, he hated being here. Just as she was pressured to do the witchy womanly duties, he was pressured to do what all other men did. Neither fit into their presumed roles well.

“So how’s the ankle?” she asked when the chaos has passed and it was safe to speak again.

“Hurts, but I think I can walk.” She helped him to his feet but he flinched, winced, and hobbled. “Okay. So no walking yet.”

Lisbeth let him sink back down to the ground. Carrying him was not an option, even as wiry as he was. He had filled out some in recent months though, and she had no doubt he’d come into himself one day. Just a little later than most. His sweet heart alone had to be worth a lot.

He tried to put pressure on his foot, but still no better.

“That’s it,” he exclaimed in a whisper. “I’m demanding you go on. It’s hopeless for me now. No sense in you not making it too. Especially since I’d like to see you kick everyone else’s butt.”

Lisbeth let out an under-her-breath chortle.

“Mathew, you of all people should know it’s not in my nature to leave someone behind, even if it is just a game.”

“Unless it was for the good of everyone else. Or the world.” She punched his arm with a smirk. “And this isn’t a game, Lisbeth. It does matter. Especially to you.” He wasn’t wrong. Duty and what was right did have to come first in the real world. And this training battle was important, but so was he.

“We have plenty of time,” she argued instead. “We’ll hunker down here for a little longer and give your ankle more time.” Lisbeth grabbed a potion bottle from Mathew’s shoulder belt. “Knew this one would come in handy.” She winked and smashed the bottle against the log, the contents erupting silently into a fine mist that surrounded them. It muted their voices and gave them extra cover; to an outsider, it looked like a patch of fog.

“It worked,” clapped Mathew, thrilled.

“Of course it did. You made it.” And he was one of the best potion makers she’d ever met. Why everyone else refused to see it and force him into this training instead, she’d never understand. She’d let Mathew teach her to make potions any day.

“Still, it might be considered cheating,” he worried.

“Nah. Only rules we were given were, don’t attack the trainers, defend against them only. Didn’t tell us one thing about not using Mathew Bishop’s newest awesome potion invention.”

“You’re too kind to me,” Mathew returned sheepishly. “And I’m not sure how long it will last. Thirty minutes, if we’re lucky?”

“This will be the test then.”

“You really shouldn’t wait for me, Lisbeth.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“For you, I’d cross the earth. I’ll never have the chance to prove that though,” he sighed. “I will never be good enough at this.”

“Don’t say that. You are talented and brave in ways others don’t see. It’ll pay off one day. You’ll see.”

“Have I told you lately how magnificent a human being you are?” he cast her a humble grin.

“As long as you don’t tell me you’re falling in love with me,” she teased, “I’ll stay that way.”

He laughed softly. His shoulders sagging a little.

Her gaze narrowed in. “Mathew... please don’t tell me you actually feel like that.” It would be the worst thing ever, making things between them beyond awkward, and in reality, Mathew was one of the few people Lisbeth enjoyed being around. He was drama free and had no agenda, other than being a wonderful friend. But no matter how she might have wanted to, her feelings had never gone beyond that.

“No. That’s um, that’s not it,” Mathew responded modestly. “That’s not something you ever need to worry about.”

She didn’t like the inflection in his words. “What do you mean?”

“Remember a minute ago when you were saying that thing about my father and protecting a future family?”

“Yeah.”

“I won’t ever have that.”

“Don’t talk like that Mathew Bishop!” she ordered sharply. “You will find someone to love, who loves you back.”

“No. I don’t think I will.”

Clearly she was missing something here. He’d been parading around the subject of romance, and whether she had any romantic prospects, these last few weeks. She feared leading up to telling her he had a crush or something. Mathew was her best friend, but he’d only ever be that. She wished she felt differently. She really did. God knows her actual prospects were, well, none.

There was another flash of spells cast not too far away.  The voice muting fog shield still held, but they went silent until it had passed, unwilling to take any chances that might get them kicked out of the mock battle this early in the night.  They never saw any students or teachers and the noise went away.

Lisbeth plunked back against the log folding her arms across her chest.

“What I am missing, Mathew?” she demanded kindly.

“My favor towards you. It’s not so much that I’m in love with you, as find you a practical solution to a mutual problem.” He looked away; even in the dark, she saw the blush of humiliation color his cheeks.

“Okay, now I’m even more confused. What mutual problem?”

He lost his nerve. “We should wait until this is over. This was a bad idea. Not the right place, or time.”

“Nope. You don’t get out of it now, Matty Boy.”

He grinned at her pet name for him.

“Okay, so um, you’re familiar with how men find you, well, intimidating?”

“Hard not to.”

“And you’ve seen how they find me... cowardly.”

She tsked at his assessment of himself, but let him finish. He wasn’t so wrong about how men saw her. Mathew might not be swift on his feet, or outwardly brave in a situation like a battle, but he had an observant mind and would stand up for someone he loved with his life. Unfortunately, others their age didn’t treat him like that, and saw him as weak.

She wished they’d take the time to get acquainted with him. She imagined part of it was he wasn’t a Howard or a Deane. He and his father were the only outside witch family on the Isle. It wasn’t easy to break into a community like theirs as an outsider.

“I’m still not following, Mathew. Please go on,” she encouraged, realizing he’d stopped.

He sucked in a determined breath and looked her straight in the eye. “I was hoping in a few years, if you hadn’t managed to snag a man willing to put up with you, you might consider picking... me. Just so we don’t grow old alone. We’d only ever be friends. I’d never expect or want anything more.”

Lisbeth wore a befuddled expression, something not quite clicking into place.

“Mathew, I don’t understand why you’ve already given up. You’re young, with a whole life ahead of you. I am certain there’s a woman on this Isle who’s perfect for you. About as certain as I am there is no man, for me.”

He dropped his head. “No. There most definitely is no woman for me.” He let out an uneasy exhale, his gaze pleading for her to understand what he was trying to say, without him actually having to vocalize it. “I’m not saying it would be a perfect life. Or very satisfying, personally. But I’d rather have someone I love and care about as a friend, and partner, then no one at all.”

It sank into Lisbeth’s mind like a heavy weight, what he was trying to tell her. She plunked back against the tree trunk, her breath hitching. The reality and immensity of what he was revealing. He looked downward at the ground, having said his piece; the blush of shame putting fire on his cheeks.

His chin lifted and Lisbeth found his eyes.

“Do not look away, ashamed. Not from me, Mathew. I’m sorry, I never realized.”

“It’s not like I go around making it obvious. Like I need another mark against me. Some other way to stick out and not fit in.”

“Is there no man on the Isle you might find some sort of happiness with?”

“How? We live on an island where everyone and their sister knows what you ate for breakfast. My preferences would not be a secret easily kept. Or a lifestyle accepted. This community is progressive compared to many, but we still have far to go. Heck, look how long it took you and Charlotte just to get into training. I’m being realistic, that is all.”

How bleak a future. Not that hers looked much more promising.

“It’s not like you just decided to be like you are,” she returned hotly. “You can’t change how you were born. It’s not fair. Any of this.”

“I wish I could change myself. Life would be so much easier. I’d be of use to the community in a way they prefer. And perhaps they’d be more forgiving of my personal preferences if I was some tough fighter who took out a bunch of big bad Supernaturals.”

Lisbeth’s brows pinched together. It wasn’t so misleading a measure. A pathetic one few could live up to but the one that seemed to count the most. It certainly garnered the most respect.

“That’s never going to happen unless they discover some spell to turn me into... not me,” Mathew continued.

Her brows pinched even tighter.

“It’s exhausting really. Never fitting in and always trying to.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Her arms folded tighter.

“Neither should you, Lisbeth. But face it, there are few who would agree with you about my personal preferences. Or how we think things should be run.”

Sad, but true. She unfolded her arms, unsure how to fix this messed up image he had of himself. How did she prove his value? Show him his true worth?

“You are right, Mathew.” Her words held a bitter edge. “We do have a common problem. I refuse to be a stay-at-home witch. Raising babies and tending gardens. I want to learn to fight, and teach, and protect the Isle. And if that means no man will have me, then so be it. And if there is no man to have you...”

What a pair they’d make. But like he said, better to live with someone you cared about and loved on some level, versus grow old alone.

“I’ve never told a soul,” Mathew revealed. “You’re the only person on this Isle who understands not fitting in. I don’t think even Charlotte would. She is... on some other level. I’m pretty sure if she gets her way she’ll own this place.”

Lisbeth chuckled. “She has been extra driven lately. Look though, Mathew, I’m glad you told me, and I am beyond honored you trust me with such a secret. It was a brave thing to reveal even to someone you were certain would understand. No man or woman should ever think you cowardly, Mathew Bishop.”

He gave a short laugh.

“Courage comes in many forms. Not just physical actions,” she went on. “Or running head first into a battle. Sometimes the bravest of acts are the ones that require inner strength, not outer.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “You are my best friend, Mathew, and I’d be honored to spend my life with you if neither of us is able to find the love we want. And even if by some miracle we do, you’ll still be my best friend. Always.”

There was a tear in his eye. They hugged. Tightly. He sniffled. Relief obvious in his smile.

“How about we revisit this topic in a few years? I do hope you find someone to be happy with Lisbeth, even if it’s not me. Personally, I don’t think the men around here have any idea what they’re missing out on.”

“Right back at you, Matty Boy,” she teased. “Truth be told, though, I don’t need a man to validate my life. It would be a blessed benefit, I won’t lie. Just, promise me you won’t give up. You never know what the fates may have in store. You may not see the value in what you offer yet, but it will find you, Mathew. I have no doubt.”

A strange sound prickled in Lisbeth’s ear, or more appropriately, the sudden lack of any sound. She held up her hand, telling Mathew to stay silent for a moment. He caught on, eyeing her hard. She shrugged, but for some reason, things had gone eerily quiet. A deadly, frightening sort of quiet that only happened when something unsavory was present. Nature had a way of sensing evil lurking nearby.

An electric charge of a spell cracked through the silence.

A round of flashes, and crashes, and shouts... something was different this time. Something too real in the midst of a training session.

Lisbeth and Mathew eyeballed each other, both picking up on the change. Something was off. They got to their feet, Lisbeth adjusted the magical belt slung over her shoulder. She was having a hard time adjusting to the new outfit and getting it to fit just right. She’d resorted to wearing men’s clothes seeing as her pretty empire dresses just didn’t cut it when in battle, or training. Mathew stayed put, his ankle a little better, but still not allowing him to put much pressure on it. Probably sprained it.

Two male students broke through the trees, focused and palms at the ready by their sides. But something about their stances was... too hard. Too realistic for a mock battle.

A trainer slid out of the trees behind them.

“Make haste,” he ordered mutedly. “Get home, raise the alarm. If you find other students take them with you!”

Lisbeth’s stomach did a lurch; something bad was happening. She tore away Mathew’s magical fog-like shield and bounded out to them, the trainer gasping raggedly at their out of nowhere appearance.

“What’s going on?” 

“Do not panic. But we are under attack. For real.”

“By who?”

“I’m not sure. Just get home. Now.”

“We should all be fighting with you. Isn’t that what we’ve trained for?”

“You are not prepared for a real battle.” She went to argue. “Do not push me, Lisbeth.” He looked to the two young men. “Make sure she gets home safe.”

She huffed and scowled, like she needed babysitters.

The trainer took off in search of others and to return to the apparent real battle breaking out somewhere nearby. Lisbeth was having none of it. Charlotte was still out there too. She had to find her. And help the others.

“Hey,” she called out to the young men. “Mathew’s injured his foot. He needs help to get home.” They both peered around her to see him hobbling their direction.

One of them laughed. “Knew I should have made that bet. C’mon,” he urged the wiry young man. Not unkindly, but with a tone of, we expected no less. Mathew ignored it, he was used to it. The two young men grabbed hold of him, one on each arm, and started toward home. He gave Lisbeth a quick wink, and dramatically pretended to go down.

Lisbeth blew him a kiss before darting in the opposite direction.  By the time they got Mathew back on his feet and swung around to order her home, she had vanished.

“It’s her funeral,” one of them chastised.

“Stubborn girl,” accused the other.

Mathew wanted to argue the point as he knew differently, but there was no point with these two. He hoped she’d be okay though, and wished he could be of more help than needing assistance getting home.

##

A LONG TIME AGO ON an island not so far away... continued.

Over Lisbeth’s head, clouds parted way for the silvery full moon. Its bright light cast downward, eerily, but lit up the woods well enough to see what was ahead of her. She darted from tree to tree, palm at the ready, ears and eyes open to the sounds and sights around her.

She froze.

A vicious snarl ripped into the moonlight. Not far ahead.

A moment of panic almost claimed her. Was she ready for this? Had she rushed in too fast? Her training too limited?

It didn’t matter, not until everyone was safe and accounted for. She adjusted her magic belt and grabbed a potion bottle, prepared for whatever creature lay in wait. She got just a few steps before her legs would no longer move forward. An ominous shadow plodded far too close for comfort. About fifteen feet in front of her and off to the left a little.

She got her feet moving and took cover behind a tree trunk. On days like this, she was never so happy to be such a stick figure. Might not be appealing to the men around here but was handy when trying to hide out in the open.

Breath held, she peeked around the tree.

A snout lifted, sniffing the air.

Panic clawed at her again, a fearful realization that the creature was bent over and on all fours as its shadow pushed upward standing on its hind legs. Its head lifted into the air and a hideous snarl echoed outward.

Werewolf.

A freaking werewolf.

And not the friendly, live in peace kind she’d met as a child.

She had no silver on her person. No way to defend herself against such an enemy. Other than to try to stun the thing using magic. It would take a heck of a blow. Or twenty.

A soft step to her side. A shadow stalking up alongside her. A human form. Lisbeth refused hesitation, and pounced, only to stop herself realizing it was Charlotte. She opened her mouth to scream, startled, but Lisbeth covered it and pointed to the werewolf. Her friend had heard the howl but hadn’t realized just how close it was. She calmed and Lisbeth dropped her arm from her mouth. They spoke wordlessly, with nods and pointing. Perhaps if they both went at the thing together they’d have a better chance of stunning it.

They raised their right palms and simultaneously leapt out and caught the beast off guard. Lisbeth breezed right while Charlotte, left. They hit it with a series of spells aimed straight at its head and heart. It stunned the beast, sending it to the ground, but it didn’t go unconscious only got the wind knocked out of it.

Good heavens these things took a beating!

Just as they were about to rush forward and attack again one of the male students jetted into sight, playing defense against two uncivilized looking witches. One female, one male.

Without hesitation the women set into firing at the witches, giving their fellow student a chance to raise his palms and attack rather than defend himself from shots coming in. The werewolf picked itself up and shook itself off. Lisbeth yanked out a potion bottle and slammed it into the ground just in front of the thing. It was only a defensive potion; so ill-prepared they were for a real battle. But it temporarily put a magical barrier around the wolf, keeping it imprisoned within the walls of the magic. It wouldn’t last long though. It would break through with a few determined thrusts.

However, with the three students attacking the two rogue witches, they had them on the defensive and on the run in no time. The male student looked at Lisbeth and Charlotte with an instant new respect. He nodded in thanks, and approval, carrying on the attack and following the witches in retreat. Which left Lisbeth and Charlotte to deal with the werewolf.

The magical shield dissolved against the wolf’s continued physical attack on it, and they pummeled it with more spells. In trying to get out of the way, it growled and flung itself head first into a thickly rounded tree trunk and proceeded to fall backwards, unconscious. Lisbeth threw her last magical shield potion at the beast, ensnaring it, and she and Charlotte raced off towards the village. 

Their urge now to get home and see if everyone was okay, and determine who needed help where. With all the students and trainers in the field tonight, the village wasn’t as protected as it might normally be.

Lisbeth stopped short, her breaths heavy, and in disbelief.

Charlotte joined her. “Why did you stop?”

“I think this attack may have been planned, especially to be this night.”

“What makes you think this?”

“Kind of perfect don’t you think? All the trained and being trained fighters busy at the same time. It puts us all in the same place, easy targets. And the village protection weakened.”

“I had not thought of this, but you’re right.” There were hints of jealousy that her friend had come to this smart conclusion first. “This would mean we may have a spy amongst us. Who of us would do such a treacherous thing?”

“Perhaps no one. Perhaps I am wrong. These attackers may have used their own spies. I cannot imagine any of our own doing this.”

“I certainly hope not. The punishment of the one caught would not be worth any price.”

No. It would mean banishment for the traitor if none were killed this night.

But if anyone on the island died, it would be a death sentence.

In a single breath, the two young women became surrounded by flashes of light, spells cast, and a fight closing in on both sides. Charlotte dove one direction, Lisbeth, the other. She crawled to safety, picked up her head to check out the scene and look for Charlotte.

She was on her feet and fighting alongside two of the trainers and the male student they’d just assisted earlier. Darn it though. Those two rogue witches they’d clashed with had fought their way back in.

Lisbeth’s head snapped, a low growl filtering into the woods. The werewolf had awakened and gotten out if its magical cage. She crawled her way away from the fighting, determined to take down the wolf again before it got close enough to help its fellow attackers, or hurt someone. The mere idea of this monster reaching the village gave her the courage to try.

She climbed to her feet and ran toward the beast grabbing its attention with a few spells aimed right at it. All direct hits, but none strong enough to knock the thing out. It staggered, but kept on its feet, and now plodded after her away from the others.

Good, it was taking the bait.

Unfortunately, she was the bait.

And alone.

With a gigantic werewolf clambering closer behind her.

What stupid notions had she been thinking?

She bent around, shooting off spells as she ran.

The wolf was getting wiser, catching on. It ducked and darted out of the way, gaining on her. Lisbeth’s heart skipped a few beats threatening to stall out completely. Between the full paced running and the fear, there was no room for a single beat more.

Up ahead she noticed a low-hanging branch, and raced for it, jumping up and pulling it with her, and as she landed, let it fly... her feet hit the ground running and she ordered her wasted muscles to keep working. The branch slammed directly into the beast’s neck and it made a freakish choking sound, its cruel hands going to its throat.

It didn’t give her much of a headstart.

She refused the urge to watch the momentary misery she caused the wolf, the ugly snarl and vicious gnashing of teeth hungry for a kill, plenty of incentive to keep running no matter how exhausted her body was, physically. She ran harder than she’d ever imagined possible of herself. Using every thin space between trees and bushes the wolf was too large to fit through, forcing it to go around, or over. All the while trying to figure out which direction she was running in.

In the dark, running this fast, she had no idea if she was taking the monster closer to the village, or toward the ocean. Every shadow started to look the same.

A flash of movement. To her right.

Had to be foe as no friend of hers moved so fast.

It scooted between trees in short bursts of blurry movement.

At any moment she was going to be taken down, if not by the wolf gaining on her, this new enemy keeping her stride.

A skid, a thud, and a cry behind her, from the werewolf.

Stop?

Look?

Keep going?

Pass out?

That seemed like a viable option right now if she wasn’t able to catch her breath soon. She needed to start running on a much more regular basis. Logic told her to keep moving. Her curiosity and sense of duty told her to stop and make sure of what was happening. So she did. Breathlessly.

The werewolf was on the ground, writhing in pain. Snarling. Kicking out at some unseen force who moved so swiftly it was almost tranquil in its wind-like movements. Lisbeth stood her ground, palm at the ready, lungs heaving in the effort of running, mixed with the flood of panic and adrenaline bursting out of her.

She gasped.

Tranquil was the worst word choice ever.

A pale menace with fangs and two legs materialized between her and the werewolf wearing a long fitted coat that swirled around his calves with its sudden stopping motion.

A vampire.

Goodnight, Lisbeth! Lights out!

Of course it was a vampire. Few other beings moved so fast.

And why aren’t you running already?

Because my legs have nothing left and my lungs are about to explode.

And you’d prefer to die by bloodletting?

Like I’d outrun him.

And just because he was killing the werewolf didn’t mean her life was safe.

She had little to fend off a vampire other than the break of day, which was hours away! But the vampire ignored her, its feral gaze locked onto the eyes of the werewolf.

“Yes,” he hissed at the dying beast. “I found you just like I promised.” He chomped his teeth at the hairy beast now fighting for breath. The vampire had bitten the wolf, a death sentence there was no getting out of.

The vampire was confident in his stance. His deadly stare reveling in the last living moments of the wolf. He must not be part of this attacking crew; the rest were unkempt and wild looking. This vampire was, for lack of a better word, debonair. A magnificent button down jacket that fitted perfectly around the pale one’s body, with a high collar that no doubt hid the bite on his neck from being turned. But he was clean. Well groomed. And though his hair a touch long and disheveled, it was almost purposely so.

And why am I standing here gawking? And thinking about what he looks like?

Lisbeth needed to get her common sense and body to start working, and run. Like she’d get far. Regardless, she should at least try. 

The werewolf took its last breath, its giant body heaving in the effort.

The vampire let out a satisfied snarl. And in deliberate rotation pivoted and locked eyes with Lisbeth like she was the most delectable thing he would suck dry, ever.

Her hand swung up to her neck out of a moment of pure terror and sureness that her death sentence was now switched from being torn apart by a werewolf, to being sucked dry by this vampire. Even if she’d left a minute ago this thing would have caught her scent and followed. She was easy prey for such a predator.

In a single blink, he was poised a breath away from her, his exhales like ice against her skin. He was a good six inches taller, coal gray eyes burrowing into hers with an intensity that made her instantly small and helpless. A pathetic damsel in distress. His mental examination of her might as well have stripped her bare. She shuddered, though not from any chill.

No man had ever made her so instantly vulnerable and raw. Even the coldness of his skin so close, did nothing to stave off the heat simmering in her veins from his drilling mental exploration.

Or it might be all the running on a hot summer night. Yeah, that was it. She was not having seriously unhealthy reactions to a vampire who was preparing to make a late night snack out of her.

“Who are you?” The curiousness of his voice startled her.

He backed away just a few inches. Actually backed away after she flinched.

Probably how he gets his fun.

Makes his victims think they have a chance by pretending to give a little space.

That, or he gets a kick out of learning the names of his victims before he sucks them dry.

She raised her palm already aware of how useless her magic would be against him.

He grinned. And followed it up with a humored laugh. 

“I just saved your life.”

“You’re telling me you don’t plan on taking it now?”

“I dare say I don’t believe I could, even if I was starving.” If Lisbeth wasn’t wrong, she saw shock in his features because of this. “Who are you? What is your name?” His accent was from another land. Not America. England, she guessed. And far too exotic for her liking. Well actually, to her liking. 

She straightened her body and lifted her chin in defiance.

“I’m a witch who protects this island and its inhabitants from monsters like you.” Her breath trembled, but she refused to give into the fear that her life was about to come to an untimely end. 

“Feisty. Brave. A fighter. My favorite, and so difficult to find in your kind. You’d do well like me.”

“Don’t you dare! I’d rather die.” She stuck out her neck, free for him to suck her dry if that was his intent. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, followed by a flickering of emotions too hard to decipher. Though dark, the moonlight sparkled in the coal gray staring back at her. He stepped back again.

“You are a worthy human. A rarity in this life. Be well.” He tipped his head in a farewell bow.

A trick. It had to be. She backed up a step. “You’re letting me go?”

He backed away with a grin tinged with wickedness.

“Yes, I am letting you live. But I’ve changed my mind, and added a condition.”

“Of course you have.”

“Tell me your name.”

“Tell me yours.”

He growled through his teeth; it raked through like a purr. She tried not to jump when he leaned toward her, bending his head forward in a bow. “My name is Grayson Moone. Vampire aged one-hundred-eleven. Human aged until twenty-six. Killer of those who kill...”

“Wh-what does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah.”

She sighed heavily, her nerves deflating a little. Probably not a good thing because it meant she was letting her guard down. Not smart.

“My name is Lisbeth Eugenia Deane. Witch. Assistant to the Howard Witches, protectors of The Demon Isle. And of all innocent lives.”

“We have that in common.”

“I highly doubt that. You looked like you wanted to eat me a minute ago, and I’d wager that has not changed.”

Grayson’s grin morphed into a wickedly tempting simper. “Could it be you are not so innocent as you believe? I have fangs, and I live in a body created to take down my prey. But I promise you, Lisbeth.” He stepped closer. “Eugenia.” A little closer. “Deane.” He was right back where he started. “I am not a monster. Not like you think.” He was ogling her like prey. Delicious prey.

“Like that werewolf?” she argued, unable to control the slight tremble his closeness caused. “What did he ever do to you?”

“He was about to tear you apart.”

She sucked in ready to... to what? Argue? He was right.

She exhaled stubbornly.

“That wolf killed someone dear to me. An innocent as you’d call them. I promised revenge.” Grayson displayed his palm toward the dead wolf in a silent, revenge accomplished. “Believe me, my dear Lisbeth, it was most deserved.”

“I’ve never met a vampire with any sort of conscience.” Her tone indicated she didn’t believe it possible.

“I did not kill you.”

“Yet.” 

“Not all my kind are monsters. We are cursed to live off blood, but some of us only drink and kill those who deserve it.”

“And what gives you the right to decide who’s deserving?” Now she was just getting pissed at the arrogance of the vampire. And again, he grinned, getting some secret thrill out of her daring defiance in the face of a vampire who could end her life in the mere passing of a breath. “You do have a choice,” she continued boldly. “Why not let fate handle those you deem worthy of your fangs and live off the blood of animals?”

“So you’d rather I kill a precious cuddly puppy versus one who forces himself on females? Or murders children?” he interrogated, like the idea of allowing these true monsters to live was the real crime.

She gave a start, not expecting him to reply in such a distasteful manner.

“No. Never a... a... puppy. Or pet. Just, you could live off the blood of animals who already have death sentences because they are food for humans. You would not need to kill puppies. And as for the woman haters and child killers, well, they’ll get what’s coming to them, either in this life, or the afterlife.”

“You speak this like you are certain this is true.”

“I am.”

“How?”

“I just... am.”

“Ah. Faith in a world after this one.”

“Is that wrong?”

“No. Not for you. There is nothing after this life for my kind.”

“And you know this with certainty I suppose?”

He grinned again. “I imagine our faith is equal in our beliefs.”

Lisbeth needed to get hold of herself, she was having an argument with a vampire. A moral conversation with an immoral creature of the night. And yet something in her gut spoke to her, told her he wasn’t a lost cause. Just lost.

Wasn’t it her duty to save those who are lost? Wasn’t he technically an innocent, in some way? Duty versus the desire to survive were fighting hard. Common sense dueling madly with insanity to even think this a good idea. And there was another emotion thrown into the mix, something much more dangerous. Her heart was trying to have an opinion, and that was the worst possible idea yet.

Grayson stalked around her, each step curious and testing. Just what he was testing, she had no guess.

“You promised not to kill me,” she reminded fervently as he circled behind her.

“I do not wish to. But I dare say the smell of you is so intoxicating. I can only imagine the taste of you to be even more so. I imagine it would be life altering.”

Lisbeth’s body betrayed her mind, strange feelings she’d never had before percolating under her skin like a fire trying to find oxygen. The image in her mind of the vampire with his fangs at her throat did things to her no human man had ever done.

Or should do! What on this earth was wrong with her?

He ended his exploration and came to stand in front of her again, his body tense, his eyes fluttering closed as if savoring something both heavenly, and hellish. Lisbeth didn’t for a moment believe he’d actually leave her alive, or unscathed.

In swift reaction, she crouched, reached into her boot and grabbed a knife. She rose, ready to stab. And blast all that was sane! Her hand refused to follow through with the movement and strike.

Stupid, stupid girl! She shouted at herself.

The vampire’s eyes flew open to the sight of her hesitating to stab him.

The moment of delay would cost her.

In movements her human eyes did not see, only feel, Grayson was behind her, the knife on the ground, her arms pinned behind her back. His lips, far too close to that vein pulsing with life in her neck.

Ragged breaths forced their way out of her overworked lungs.

His growl promised pain. Good pain. Pleasurable pain.

“Never hesitate, Lisbeth. If you’re going to kill, kill.”

“I won’t forget next time.”

“Next time, hmm...”

“There won’t be a next time,” she argued. “Because you’re going to let me go, and you are going to leave the Isle.” She spoke like it was already decided and done.

He growled again.

“If I had my way, and no morals, what I’d do is steal you away from this place. And I promise, my dearest Lisbeth Deane, you’d never want to return.”

She let out a gasp, a thrilling fear consuming her. His offer in a maddening way, tempting. Shame on her body for not having a mind of its own, and her brain not for listening to logic. She’d never had such a physical reaction to any man before. But no other had ever given her a second look before. Or spoke to her with such raw honesty. A quality she definitely did not expect from the vampire.

This is no normal man, she reminded herself. He’s a killer.

Grayson sucked in the enthralling smell of her blood. Lisbeth didn’t struggle against him; it would only rile him further. And if she was truthful, the closeness of him was doing something to her. A bit like having too many drinks, or being put under a spell. Which wasn’t possible as vampire gifts like persuasion, did not work on witches. And that meant these reactions were all hers. Idiot...

“Let me go.”

“That didn’t sound like you meant it. It was feeble.” He nibbled her neck. “Your heartbeat says different, Lisbeth...” he drew out her name like he was sucking in the taste of her. 

“I did mean it. Let. Me. Go.”

“You are a woman no human man will ever tame. No weak minded fool would ever be enough for you, would they? No.” He answered his own question wildly. “You need a stronger, more confident specimen. One who won’t fail you.” His arms glided around her waist pulling her tight against him. His embrace possessive, but yielding. It wasn’t a prison, or something to fear and need escape from.

Without meaning to, her body melted into him. Her neck opening for his lips, which drew across her skin like ice striking fire. Somehow this creature had enthralled her. Used some magic that did work against witches.

It was not her. She refused to believe it.

Voices.

Someone was approaching. 

“I will find you again, My Lisbeth.” His tone made it sound final. Done. Decided. And so deeply personal.

In another blink she was staggering, trying to keep herself upright. Her hand went to her throat, breaths heavy and loaded with a bewildering slew of heated emotions she’d never known before. Like the vampire had awakened her in some way. Some part of her that had never truly been awake before.

The part of her who was not the fighter, or the witch, but a woman. Like the female part of her had suddenly bloomed to life. Come into existence. Wanted to exist.

How did the vampire do that to her? How had she allowed him to?

She twisted, searching in all directions, but Grayson was gone.

Footsteps grew heavier, and a few seconds later two of the trainers rocketed into view.

“Lisbeth. Oh, thank the heavens. You’re safe... Oh my!” He’d spied the dead werewolf.

She shook herself out the stupor the unearthly fanged male had left her in.

“I struck it with too many spells to count and then... and then...” what did she tell them? There was no hiding a vampire had made this kill. “A vampire killed it. Bit the thing.”

They gasped, palms at the ready.

“It... left,” she lied. The first lie she’d ever told in her life, and yet not a complete lie. He had left, just not the Isle. She didn’t think. She didn’t hope. And wasn’t that the scariest and most thrilling thought ever?

“At least you are safe,” one of the men stated. Both the men’s poses relaxing.

“I’m fine. A little winded. A big scary dose of reality,” she admitted. “But fine.” Men liked it when she showed even an inch of female humility. But she was telling the truth as well. The key was knowing when to let this part of her show and when to keep it locked up.

One of them put a hand on her shoulder. “You did well. Very well, Lisbeth. You should be proud of your accomplishments today. Even more so that you’re alive to make it home.”

She sucked in, letting go the moment of unexpected adulation. “Did someone not make it?”

The two trainers looked between each other. The one dropped his arm from her shoulder.

“We’re not certain. We saw two carrying another body. May have been knocked out. Come, let’s get home.”

“The battle’s over?” she confirmed.

“Yes. We are rounding up everyone still in the woods. Making sure everyone is accounted for.”

“Who attacked?” she asked as they bustled home.

The men tossed a glance back and forth but answered. “Rogue group of witches. And I guess a werewolf too. I don’t think they had a specific task in mind other than try to take a few of us out. Probably hired guns, from who, we may never find out.”

“It’s always someone,” the other man proclaimed darkly.

“So true, that is.”

They made their way out of the woods. Lisbeth’s world, spinning.

Her first mock battle gone crazy. Mathew’s revelation. A werewolf. That aggravating vampire, Grayson Moone. A night she’d not soon forget. Logic banged around her brain, warning her to tell the trainers more about the vampire. They needed to do a thorough search and make sure he did leave before he managed to take a single life. If she kept her secret, and someone died, their blood would be on her hands.

Something stopped her from wanting to. Something she was unable to put words to. And it would have to wait now, they were almost at the village. Where someone was crying out, “My son. My son.”

Lisbeth looked at the two trainers, who shook their heads having a terrible sense that whoever they’d seen being carried out of the woods had not only died but was one of the young students who’d ended up fighting.

They quickened their paces into the village square where everyone was gathering. A father was lying next to his son whom two young students had laid down. They had not left the dead student’s side and looked trodden and beaten.

Lisbeth froze. Veins hardening to ice, a cold sweat breaking out on her brow while an ill-boding shudder ripped through her.

Sick. She was going to be sick.

This wasn’t real.

Not him.

Oh please God, not him.

Her legs started working on their own accord and she sank to her knees next to the father.

“Mathew. Oh my, God, Mathew. No. No.”

Tears threatened to fall freely but she bit her lip hard, to hold them in. She’d never once cried in public and had no intention of doing so now, even if this was her dearest friend in all the world.

“What happened? How did this happen?”

One of the students who’d been helping Mathew out of the woods answered shakily. “We um, got ambushed. Mathew, he... he saved my life. Pushed me out of the way and got hit with a spell straight to the heart.”

“Didn’t have a chance,” the other young man recounted somberly. “We didn’t even see who attacked. Came out of nowhere. But Mathew he... somehow he did.” He sounded genuinely impressed and humbled by the act. Both of them were clearly altered and shaken by this incident.

Only now, in a moment like this, did these young men see the value in a life so suddenly stripped from them.

“Oh, Mathew.” Lisbeth leaned in and place her forehead against his. “Twice tonight, you were the bravest man I knew.” No breath from his lips. No blink of his eyes. No heart, beating under his chest. Life, gone, in the flashing of a moment.

She lifted and kissed his cheek.

She’d miss her friend so terribly.

So unalike they were. Opposites in so many ways, and yet a good pair. She even would have said yes to his odd proposal in a few years if she’d gotten older and lonely enough. She looked up to see Charlotte in the distance. Her gaze hardened for such a shocking and solemn moment.

Lisbeth wasn’t sure what to make of her anymore; she’d changed. And yet Lisbeth understood why. Charlotte was trying to brave her way in a man’s world. And a Howard world. It was hard to blame her for what she was doing. And yet there was something behind her stare that gave Lisbeth a chill. She caught Mathew’s father staring at her.

“He was very fond of you,” his father lamented through forlorn breaths. 

“And me of him. My heart is broken over his loss. He,” she choked up, unsure where she was going with this, but still felt obligated to protect him, even now, after death. “Mathew asked me to marry him tonight.”

“Oh, Lisbeth. I always wondered. He never said. I didn’t ask, and now,” he had no more words. Only pain. Only sorrow over all that would never be.

“Just so you know, I said yes.”

He nodded. Grasped her arm lovingly. Grateful. At the same time, a weary distance growing in his gaze. The man had come here in hopes of protecting his son.

“I should not have made him go through with the training.” 

He was definitely blaming himself. But Mathew loved his father, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye on things. He would not want his father blaming himself.

“You were doing your best to make him strong in a dangerous world.” It wasn’t much comfort but all she had to offer. He’d always been hard on Mathew, pushed him out of his comfort zone, but was never unkind. Not so unlike her own father. She gave Mathew’s father a peck on the cheek and a comforting pat on the arm. If only his father or others would have seen Mathew’s true potential. It was hard not to have some anger, but she’d not pass that onto a grieving father.

Looking down upon her dead friend Lisbeth had another new sensation. One she did not like. Too many firsts today. Not enough room in her brain to process all of them. 

This first, this death, leaving a deep emptiness in her soul that might never be filled again. Her mother had died, but she’d never known her. Other witches had been killed while on duty. But this was her first friend. The first loss that buried itself deep into her heart. Mathew, taking a piece of it with him.

She was surrounded by caring witches, many who she knew well enough, and who cared for her in return even at her most stubborn. But not like Mathew. Never like Mathew. He was caring and smart and loyal and sensitive; a combination in most men that would be seen as a prize. But in Mathew, others saw this as weakness. It would never make sense to her. She gathered most people never got past his inherent clumsiness, or lack of fight.

So he wasn’t a fighter.

And she didn’t want to play stay-at-home witch.

Big. Freaking. Deal.

And why today? Of all days? After everything Mathew revealed to her?

His future, whatever it would have been, wiped out with a single act of bravery.

She was certain equal to that bravery, was Mathew believing his life was not worth as much as a physically stronger specimen who was a fighter and protector of the Isle. He’d succumbed to others’ opinions of him.

Would she, too? At some point?

Lisbeth kissed him one final time.

“I hope in whatever awaits us in the afterlife, I get to see you again my friend.” She whispered her last goodbye and climbed to her feet, taking a moment to collect herself.

She passed through the sniffling crowd, each mourning the loss of such a young life. Lisbeth permitted some bitterness to ease its way forward; if only they had shown him the same respect in life, perhaps they’d not be sitting here mourning at all. Mathew would still be alive. She hoped they’d learn from this and not be so outwardly judgmental.

Things needed to change.

People needed to be allowed to choose their paths in life, not have it chosen for them based on some biased, out of date, tradition.

Lisbeth spotted Charlotte and made her way over. “You’re okay?”

“Yes. You?”

“Alive.” A little battered and so confused I won’t sleep a wink. Between surviving her first battle, Mathew’s death, and the vampire, Grayson Moone.

Charlotte shook her head. “Stupid boy.” She spoke of Mathew. “Went and did exactly what we all thought he’d do. Got himself killed.” There was no remorse in her hushed statement and Lisbeth glared at her friend’s lack of empathy.

“He died saving someone else.”

Charlotte remained hardened. “Because he finally saw what the rest of us saw; no worth in his life as a witch.”

Lisbeth glared, lips etched in a deep scowl. “How could you say such a thing? What has happened to you?”

“We are living in a kill or be killed world, Lisbeth. Preservation of the strongest and all that. Mathew was weak. And he saw the truth more so than anyone.”

“I disagree. I think others made him weak by not seeing his strengths.”

“Perhaps.” Her body softened some. But not enough to forgive her harsh assessment of Mathew.

“Be careful, Charlotte.”

The woman lifted an eyebrow in defiant question.

“I, more than anyone on this island, understand your position. What you’re trying to accomplish. Don’t forget we are still part of a team, whether your last name is Howard, or not.”

Lisbeth was shocked with her openness. A natural instinct kicked in, warning her that her friend, if Charlotte even still was this, was treading in some dangerous waters. Her personal goals shoved ahead of all else. Even basic humanity, or compassion for the loss of a fellow witch, and at the very least, a friend. If not a close friend, still a man who’d done nothing but treat Charlotte with great respect. More so than any other man on the Isle came by naturally.

Lisbeth didn’t want to start an argument with her, and not here of all places. But she feared for her friend. Something punched its way to the surface, warning Lisbeth that some kind of darkness grew inside Charlotte.

Oddly, more so than the creature of the night who’d not long ago had Lisbeth imprisoned in his arms. And freed her. She’d sensed less darkness residing inside the vampire than she did Charlotte. His wickedness, a purposeful temptation meant to taunt. Hers, a steep slide into something vile and shameful.

Her friend’s resolve softened, a flicker of remorse in her eyes, almost like she realized she was being unreasonable. However, it dissolved into that hardened determination again only seconds later. Though, she said nothing in reply.

“Lisbeth! Lisbeth!” a distressed voice called out.

“Father!” She left Charlotte with the sense that they were no longer partners in this attempt to penetrate the witch-man’s world. And that for some unknown reason, they were no longer friends. It was too much to think about now.

Her father embraced her, relieved to tears to see her alive and in one piece.

“Thanks to all your training.”

“And your hard work. I cannot believe we were attacked on such a night. And poor Mathew. Oh my dear lord, I’m so sorry for you. You were such close friends. I liked that lad. I really did.”

She squeezed his arm. All her pain and sorrow going into that squeeze. Her father understood she was trying to stay strong. And his words of the attack shook a memory into her head. The idea that someone may have tipped the attackers off about the training battle. Or that there might be spies lurking. Surely someone else must have put this together. Still, she refused to chance it, and needed to inform the right people.

“Father, I must speak with the Elder Howard. I’ll be along home soon. I promise.”

“Okay. I will pay my condolences and meet you at home. You can tell me everything about the battle. And we’ll discuss at length, any questions you have. Or what else you want to learn after tonight.” She smiled, though weakly. Leave it to her father to ground her and remind her to be open and honest with him.

Hard for a father with a grown daughter, she imagined. And so in tune with the fact that this night would have changed her in some way. That she might wish to learn new things in preparation for this kind of event to happen again.

He left her and she noticed Charlotte had gone too. It was of no matter.

Lisbeth wasted no time getting to the Howard House, sitting up high on the hill just outside the village. As expected, there was a crowd gathered, meeting to discuss possible actions and reactions to this attack. She showed no fear and walked right into the crowd searching out the Elder Howard. Henry, the current patriarch of the family and the man in charge.

“Excuse me, Sir. It’s most urgent that I speak with you.”

He stopped his discussion and looked down to her; he was a tall, broad man and she a tiny waif of a woman in comparison, wearing a determined stare that would not back down. He stepped away and motioned for her to follow.

She explained all she’d believed to be true about the possibility of a spy either amongst them or on the Isle somewhere. He said nothing and let her finish and when done, gave her a mysterious look she wasn’t sure the meaning of. 

“You are not the first person to tell me this tonight, Lisbeth.”

She breathed out in relief. “So others did put it together as well. Good. I’m glad.”

“I am curious, though, why you’d say you came up with this idea?”

She shook her head, baffled by his response.

“You were with Charlotte earlier tonight, yes?”

“Part of the night, yes. But not all. We got separated.”

“I find it odd you claim to have come to this knowledge all on your own when Charlotte came to me a short while ago explaining how she’d thought this idea herself.” There was accusation in his tone.

“Excuse me?”

“Making claim to such knowledge without being the creator of the idea is not the behaviors of a witch in training. If you plan to prove yourself to this group of witches, you cannot expect to do so by cheating.” A few others raised their heads to look their direction, conversations muted.

Lisbeth said nothing, speechless.

This had nothing at all to do with the typical argument of, well, you’re a girl... this was all Charlotte. Because she was a Howard and not a Deane. So her word was automatically worth more at a time like this. So obvious, the truth became. Another harsh reality, and first. She’d had about enough of those for one day. 

Lisbeth lifted her gaze to see the raven-haired witch stalking not too far away, that hardened look, smug and satisfied. The last string of their friendship broke with a sharp plink. She tore her gaze away from Charlotte and landed it back on the Elder Howard like a dagger with perfect aim.

“I assure you, Sir. The thought was my own. The concern belonged to us both. Believe whatever you like. I care not as long as the people on the island are safe.” She made to leave, but paused, ice in the gaze she returned to the Elder Howard. “I’d also like to suggest that in the future when it comes to training of any kind, that students be permitted to choose their vocation, not forced into it. While I appreciate the opportunity to train as a fighter, there are those who should be allowed not to.”

And this was the reason no man would ever have her.

Lisbeth refused any filter when it came to suggestions she deemed vital to the future of all witches, whichever gender they may be. And most saw her defiance in this, especially to anyone in charge, almost treasonous.

Her chin lifted, her head high as she barged through the crowd like she owned the ground below her feet. The Elder Howard said nothing, his gaze even, flipping a few times between Lisbeth and Charlotte.

Lisbeth ignored the woman, wondering what she’d done to make her friend behave in such a manner. Furious with her, and yet uncaring as the sadness over Mathew and the need for things to change so much more important. She’d believed she and Charlotte had been on the same page with their views. Obviously, Lisbeth had been incorrect. Or something had changed. She passed by the witch, eyes sticking straight forward. But the chill that divided them was felt to Lisbeth’s bones.

No, they were definitely no longer friends.

Somehow, they’d become opponents.

Lisbeth dare not think enemies and wished like heck she understood the why of it all. Did Charlotte believe there was only room at the top for one woman?

Lisbeth had never viewed it like a competition. Simply trying to change the way people thought about women and their roles in the community.

As soon as she was clear she hurried home and fled into her bedroom. Her father was not home yet, and that was good. Lisbeth needed a few minutes alone to clear her head and sort through this night.

Her first battle, her first loss of a friend, her first encounter with a vampire who got her blood hotter than she cared to admit. Her first gain of an enemy.

Yes, just admit the truth, she told herself.

However, and why ever, it had happened.

Charlotte was now an enemy, not a friend.

One single night had changed, everything.

##

CHARLIE HOWARD HAD attempted to aim his boat toward home for two days. Each time, failing, unable to bring himself to follow through. He was ignoring duty, his family, Lizzy, and a hundred other things that took his mind to gloomy, disabling places. His boat, the only solace from the world he was trying to escape. Unfortunately, there was no escaping his brain. It refused to shut down and give him any room for clarity.

He’d checked in with his family a few times, to be certain chaos had not broken out. But for now, things were relatively quiet with returned from the dead vampire, Grayson Moone, locked safely in the basement of the Howard Mansion. Inside the study belonging to the absent William Wakefield who they’d still had no word from.

Between Melinda, Michael, Lizzy, and Lucas, and even Courtney Jessup and Mack as backup, Grayson would not escape. Lizzy might love Grayson, but she’d never take chances with the safety of the Isle, or its innocent inhabitants. Charlie believed this with all his heart. Like him, she’d always choose the right thing for the greater good, even over her own wellbeing. Or happiness. Part of why he loved her so much, so hard, so fast. She understood his duty; the heritage he was obligated to uphold.

The thought of losing Lizzy to this vampire...

Charlie needed to let this go. There was little to do about the situation other than let it play out. So much easier said than done, and one of the reasons his boat wasn’t ready to point homeward yet.

How did he face her, act around her, be around her, and pretend he didn’t love her?

Dealing with the inevitable sympathetic stares from his family.

And just as inevitable taunting from Grayson, who was likely to win her back.

There’s that ego getting in the way of my job again.

Charlie growled, drowning it with a toss back of whiskey. Imagining Lizzy and Grayson together in any intimate fashion got his temper flaring, hackles raised, and just plain hurt to the very depths of him.

He’d fallen too hard, too fast.

He’d put the brakes on, but it was more like a long skid that never quite came to a stop.

Somehow, he needed to get his brain on straight. Go home. And treat this Grayson job like any other. The vampire deserved a fair trial just like anyone else, regardless of who he was.

Or who he might steal from you. 

Another sloshing of whiskey flushed down his throat. 

He let the boat float away to wherever the wind took him. Fog hid him from the world. He wished from his own thoughts. God, for any way to turn it off, for even a few minutes. In times like this, he wondered how his brother Michael dealt with it all. The never ending deluge of emotions flinging at him from all directions, all the time. It was a testament to his brother that he hadn’t checked himself into an insane asylum yet.

Charlie let the booze bottle drop to the floor and closed his eyes, hoping the swoosh of the ocean waves might carry away the troubles there were no solutions for. His breaths evened and slowed. The gentle toss of the waves rocking the boat, lulling him into a hazy dream-like serenity.

Or maybe it was all the booze.

He sighed languidly. Grateful the morning fog hadn’t dissipated yet even though it was late morning, nearly afternoon. And grateful he didn’t care what time it was or that he’d been some form of buzzed since sailing out to sea.

A warm caress brushed across his cheek.

A soft hand. A soothing stroke of fingers.

I must have fallen asleep, his weary brain assumed.

His head slanted into the caress, embracing the velvety comfort. A cool breeze itched through his whiskers, tickling the thick shade growing across his face.

A light, womanly laugh.

A familiar one.

Definitely dreaming.

Charlie’s eyes flickered open just the same, his cloudy gaze coming into focus on a golden ghostly form.

“Hello, Charlie.”

He blinked a few times. Senses flaring to life.

“Nina?” he breathed out.

“You think me a dream.” She dropped her hand, dark skin illuminated in a heavenly golden glow.

He breathed in, letting it out slowly. Alert and present.

“I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I’m here. One final time as your Guardian. A short time. My rebirth into a human form is upon me. The breath of new life, close.”

“You’re okay, Nina?” He was compelled to ask this before anything else. Their previous goodbye, hasty. Too rushed. Not given nearly the time it deserved considering what she’d done for him.

She nodded, but there was sadness in her movement. “You are not okay, Charlie.”

He didn’t bother disagreeing. There was no point, not with Nina. And hence, the reason he was hiding on his boat, a haven Nina was aware of, though she’d never gone out to sea with him before.

The Guardian moved fluidly to her knees, eyes lifting to meet his. An ocean of blue swirling in misery staring back at her. Nina’s warmth was something he could bask in for days, but for this moment he’d soak up the comfort her presence offered.

“You’re so beautiful, Nina.” It wasn’t like it had been before, between them. Even with his love life crumbling, he didn’t yearn to be with Nina like that now. He didn’t crave it like he did before.

He really was in love... with a woman he wasn’t sure he had any future with.

Nina understood Charlie’s compliment though and cast him one of her regal smiles. She was a true beauty, not just outwardly. She was the embodiment of perfection and goodness. With a little slice of temptress that as always, included some measure of solace in it.

“Our time together, is done, Charlie. Though I do look back on it fondly.”

Charlie smiled back, his first genuine smile in days.

Nina laughed lightly again. “I do believe the wolf is blushing. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Charlie shook his head, certain the red flush was just getting worse, not better.

“It looks good on you, Charlie. But we both know our summer fling is not why I’m here. You have questions.”

“So many,” he breathed out coarsely.

“And I’ve been permitted the chance to answer what I can, even though I’m not technically your Guardian any longer.”

He reached out and touched her cheek. “You really are here. This isn’t a dream?”

“As real as I get.”

“Wait, so you’re not my Guardian anymore, is there another assigned? How does that work?”

“As Howard Witches, you are always being watched out for in some way or another. We do not interfere with your daily lives, and we don’t look in like spies. It’s not like that. But we are aware, and will step in on the occasions we can. Sometimes you see us, sometimes you do not.”

“Like when you died for me and gave me this?” He lifted his hand, reverently showing her the ring that had once belonged to her.

“I have no regrets, Charlie. I wish I could explain more, but my time is limited. While many things cannot be changed, and life will most certainly have its challenges, we do all we can, and you have already been assigned a new Guardian. One who will...  play an important role in things to come.” She chuckled like the idea was funny for some reason.

“What am I missing?” 

“Sorry. It’s nothing. You will like him. I’ll say nothing else as I don’t wish to preset your opinion of him.”

“Might be too late. You obviously care for this Guardian. How could I not?”

“I care for each one. Equally,” she insisted.

“We will get to meet him though?”

“Yes. Soon.” Her humor dissolved. “He’s been assigned to you for a very specific reason, Charlie.” There was clearly more on her mind but he did not push. He let out a sharp expulsion of air, rising to his feet. Energized, but wow, where to start? He did have about a thousand questions on his mind. He glanced at the ring that had once belonged to her. If they only had a short time, what did he ask first?

“You’re on the right track, Charlie,” she began, joining him on her feet. “Your concerns are all valid. Your conclusions so far, correct. The ring did not stop you and Eva as it was simply nature taking course, and as you said, at some level, consensual.”

He nodded, understanding. Sort of.

“I realize it doesn’t make it easier to accept, but in the end no matter how you feel about Eva now, you did not hurt her. You did not force her.  This is not in your nature, Charlie.”

“So it won’t let me hurt Liz...” he clipped off his question. Did it even matter now?

Nina sighed. “It’s a future I cannot see. Because the one in charge of that future is undecided.”

“Lizzy,” he guessed.

Nina nodded kindly. “Whoever you end up with Charlie, you will not hurt them. The ring is intelligently intuitive.”

“I don’t completely understand what that means.”

“It does not stop free will. It works at an emotional level. The very essence of who you are. Your subconscious intent. It can sense whether what you’re doing is free will, consensual, or something out of your own control. Something you would not do. Eva was a willing partner, as were you. As hard as that might be to accept, some part of you, not just your wolf, wanted it. Her too.”

Charlie shook his head, ashamed. “It’s true. I don’t want it to be. I was attracted to her. Obviously, my wolf was too. I just need to be sure I won’t hurt the woman I love. Not by any physical means, at least.”

“You won’t, Charlie. You can be sure of this. However, like you also fear, this is all with the notion you are wearing the ring. As I removed it voluntarily from my finger, you might do the same. You could be made to do the same. It is one flaw. But one we needed to keep.”

“Why?”

“Can you not guess?”

His chest heaved in aggravating realization.

“Someone got too power hungry?”

“The short version of the story.”

“Always with the greed and the need for more power. More. More. More.”

Charlie had almost removed the ring too though, right after getting it, when the mermaids attempted to mesmerize him. He was all too familiar with this flaw.

“So,” he stopped, gathering his thoughts. “If I am wearing the ring, and let’s say whoever my partner in life ends up being we both consent that I will bite them, and turn them into a werewolf, the ring would permit this? I would not have to remove the ring first?”

“You are correct. Consent, free will, these are decided in the heart and soul. This is where the true power of the ring resides. And to be frank, if you wish to have a family, Charlie, she can’t be human. She would die trying to bring your young into the world. Of this one thing, you can be certain.” She reached out to him. “I truly wish you didn’t have to make this choice.”

“Nina, you’ve given me so much already.”

“But if I were able to fix this, I would. I understand what children mean to you.”

“But that’s not how life works is it?”

Her hand dropped, she cast a grim smile.

“I will have to decide, won’t I? Either spend my life alone, or childless, or...” they both knew the or. It still frightened him. And there were still so many unanswered questions. He had little knowledge of raising werewolf/witch children. Never mind they’d have witches as a mother and father; what would that mean, a pure witch/werewolf bloodline?

And if he turned Lizzy what would happen after? Would he have to lock her up each month on the full moon? And their children? What if one of them accidentally bit someone? Or killed someone? Or, can a child pass on the curse if they bite someone? And dang it. He needed to stop using Lizzy as an example.

Yeah. Okay. Enough.

Problem I can’t solve right now.

Limited time with Nina, too many questions.

Unconsciously, he gazed down at his hands, a question on the tip of his tongue. How had he healed Emily, and Mack? Nina grabbed each hand in her own, holding them reverently.

“It was the magical inheritance you should have received years ago. The ring allowed this gift to finally surface.”

“Why can’t I heal everyone?” By everyone, he meant his father.

“You know why, Charlie. Every gift has limits.” She freed his hands. “We are not meant to be all-powerful, even when on the side of good.”

“Like the ring being able to be removed.”

She nodded. “We have no say in fate. We cannot interfere with free will. We can do our best to aid those doing good deeds. Be there to stop wrongs that can be righted. To stop evil from spreading when we can. Some things cannot be changed. If it is someone’s time to die, you cannot heal them no matter how hard you try. Or how earnestly you want to. If saving someone would undo the purpose of their death...” she stopped, uncharacteristically quiet, her tone apologetic, but firm.

“I think my dad figured that out. He was meant to die alongside my mom four years ago. I think he knew he was living on borrowed time.”

“And his death saved you. He gave his life for his children. For his home. Fulfilling his duty. Healing him would only have taken those precious gifts away.”

“And it would have left Eva Jordan alive and using Emily as a meat suit. It makes sense at some basic level, I just...”

“Wish you could have saved him.”

He breathed out, the full weight of the loss heavy in his breath.

“You’ll be able to save many, Charlie. But not everyone. Sometimes, people need to heal on their own. Sometimes, they cannot be healed.” She reached out and touched his face gently, her caress etched with compassion.

Dread almost instantly consumed him. That moment sure to come when he tried to heal someone, and it didn’t work. Why did every gift have to be equally a curse?

Because of what Nina said.

No one person should ever wield that kind of power.

We all need reminders that life is fragile and can be stripped away at any moment.

That none of us are permanent. Not even William, his life though potentially everlasting, wasn’t a guarantee of immortality either. There were ways to kill a vampire. He’d come precariously close to death during the Feyk attack. 

“It was because I was bitten, right, that I’m just getting this gift now?” Charlie confirmed.

“Yes. Your father should have been bitten that day. But just as he was willing to sacrifice his life for you, you were willing to do the same. Free will. That moment when you are faced with a life altering choice. And you made yours. To save your father.”

He touched the bite mark scar that never healed on his shoulder.

“I guess my life got a little off track.”

Nina chuckled. “A little. A wrong we’ve righted as much as possible.” Her breath caught and she clutched her chest.

“What is it?”

“It’s almost here. My new life.”

There were so many things he wanted to say, but before he did, Nina sighed, her gaze casting downward.

“What’s wrong?”

“We do know each other well, don’t we?”

“I guess we do. Better than I ever realized. I thought we always kept things casual, but I guess even casual we got underneath each other’s skin.”

“And all over it,” she returned.

They’d definitely done that.

Her posture cemented, her teasing grin hardening.

“There’s a war coming, Charlie.”

He stiffened. “The battles you spoke of before. William believes you gave me this ring in part because you fear the balance of good and evil is shifting, toward evil.”

“He’s not wrong. But it’s such a small piece of the picture.”

“This war is coming to the Isle?” Charlie clarified apprehensively.

“Yes. It will be widespread if not contained. And the Isle is where it begins. It is a battle you, or no human, should be part of. But in the end, it will not be avoided. Evil does not hold any value on human life.”

“Wait, are you saying this is war in your world?”

“Yes. But it will spread to yours as well.”

“How do we stop it? How do we help you? I don’t see how we can help those who already possess such power as you do.”

“By protecting those on earth who will help us upon their deaths.”

“I don’t understand. I’m sorry.”

Nina took a thoughtful breath.

“Charlie, the information I’m about to share with you has never before been uttered to a human. And you must never tell another. No one. Not even your family. It is a secret we have kept, always. It ensures our protection. Our very survival.”

His eyes widened, heart pounded. “I would never divulge any secret you share with me, Nina. But I have to admit, whatever knowledge this is it frightens me a little.”

“And this is why we can trust you, Charlie. You’ve always seen the value and logic in fear.”

He did, but it still didn’t make him comfortable to be privy to a secret he was unable to share with anyone. Not even those closest to him.

“The Guardians, our bloodline, it is ancient. I’m talking original people ancient. Humans think of Guardians as God-like or angelic creatures. Descended from, or ruled by, a heavenly, all-powerful being. This is not truth, Charlie.”

He listened, barely able to breathe.

What exactly was she telling him?

“I’m not saying there isn’t some higher God-like power, but if there is, I’ve never seen it and it’s not us. Guardians, as we call ourselves, as you think of us, accidentally integrated our blood with humans. I do not have time to tell our entire story but because of this integration, we watch over all humans. But most especially, our own bloodlines. Because once these humans shed their mortal lives...”

“They become Guardians,” Charlie realized.

“Not always,” Nina said pointedly.

His eyes narrowed.

“There is both good, and evil,” she reminded.

He let out an overwhelmed push of air. “So if they are evil in life after they die...”

“Demons.”

“Demons were once humans?”

“Yes. Humans, with Guardian blood in their veins, who did not live worthy lives. Who can only live demonic afterlives.”

“Um. Wow. Um...”

“I’m sorry, Charlie. This is a lot to tell someone. A lot to take in and wrap your brain around.”

“It pretty much changes one’s entire outlook on the world. But I still don’t get how we can help you. How knowing this, helps you.”

“We are not allowed to interfere with the lives of our human bloodlines. But we are permitted to teach, and watch over, and nudge someone in the right direction. In the end though...”

“Back to free will again. They have to choose which path to take.”

“Yes. And the frightening truth is we need every life we can, on our side. We need the balance to stay in our favor. If evil takes over...”

“This is the balance of good and evil you are fighting to keep. It’s not just about The Demon Isle, or the power source, or magic.”

“No. It’s an unfortunate byproduct of our accidental integration with your kind so many, many years ago.”

“Balance is switching, isn’t it?” Charlie dared to put forth.

“It is on a precarious edge. Every single human life matters if we are to succeed. The Guardian bloodline is dwindling and there are two lives at stake even as we speak. Two lives you can watch over. Two lives that today are destined for good. But evil is going to try hard to sway them. To tempt them. Good will try too. But that’s all either side can do. Tempt. In the end, their choices will decide their fate. And possibly tip the scales.”

“Two lives. Just two lives can do this?”

“Yes. Our numbers are not as great as you might think. Our human bloodline is weakening. Many years have passed since we integrated our blood with humans, and now, it’s dying out. There are few left to determine the outcome of this balance.”

“So how can I help them? If I can’t tell them, and can’t interfere?”

“Be there to lead. Be there to live and show by example. Teach them. Knowledge is key to wisdom.”

“Who are they? How do I find them?”

“They have only recently come into your lives,” she noted cautiously.

He thought for a moment, his dumbfounded gaze fixing on hers.

“Seriously? The Deane’s? Riley and Lucas?”

“Yes, Charlie.” Her tone took on desperation. Something he’d never heard from her before. “We need them on our side. We must do everything within our power to not let them fail.”

“Wait, are all Deane’s...”

“No. It’s not the Deane blood in them that makes them Guardians. It’s not their father. It’s their mother’s blood.”

“This is why they ended up on the Isle, isn’t it?”

“A simple nudge when the moment was right.” A nudge that almost went very wrong, she kept to herself. “But in the end, their choice to go. Their life must be their own. We are hopeful with the right guidance, with good people surrounding them, they will make it. We cannot lose a single life more to evil.” Nina’s voice filtered out to nothing for a moment. “It’s time, Charlie. I have to go. My human life is ready.”

“How can they let you go? If your numbers are dwindling, why did they let you sacrifice yourself for me when they so clearly need you?”

“It has always been the way. Every few hundred years we are reborn into a human form so we can experience life. Understand it. And therefore, better protect it once we take up Guardianship again. I am the last though. After my rebirth, this process will be suspended, indefinitely.” 

“I... what... why...” so many questions burned up, unanswered. 

“Farewell, Charlie. Live well. Live fully. Live freely.”

“I love you, Nina.” It slipped out of his mouth. It wasn’t romantic love. But unconditional and of the greatest respect.

“And I love you, Charlie.”

He reached out and touched her cheek, the warm glow around her getting darker, her form dematerializing slowly.

“Thank you,” he told her. “For everything, Nina.”

“Whatever happens, don’t give up on love. You will need it. Charlie,” she called out, her voice distant. “There’s a trial coming that will test you to your limit. And by no fault of your own, the war will begin. It cannot be stopped.” Her silhouette faded, her voice dissolving like velvet washing out to sea. Charlie said nothing. Just stared out across the ocean, into the patches of fog, her words sinking in.

This last warning had come out of her almost like she wasn’t supposed to tell him. Had she broken some rule? Did it matter? Was it true that the war was about to begin and there was no way to prevent it from starting?

What was the point then?

If there was no stopping it?

It was all in the winning or losing of it, he assumed wretchedly.

Charlie plunked down in his chair on the boat deck, Nina’s presence, her words, still strong in his mind, but he’d never see her again. There was a finality to the moment. A sureness that their connection was broken, for good.

Wow.

If he’d been overwhelmed before...

So much. So much to take in. Accept. Understand.

So many life changing secrets, so much he had to keep to himself. 

His view of the world so instantly and irreversibly changed.

And not only was there some kind of war brewing in the world of the Guardians that would spill out onto the Isle and beyond, but some personal trial headed his way? Like he needed another one of those? Hadn’t he had enough of those lately? Hadn’t they all? It was becoming a daily routine. And a trial bad enough to warrant a special warning?

A sudden urgency sped through his veins.

No matter what he had to face when he got there, it was time.

He needed to go home.

##

MELINDA STARED DOWN Lizzy Deane.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. I promised to teach you. No sense in putting it off just because...”

“The world is gone to the crapper,” Melinda finished.

“I’d use stronger words. But I can’t do a thing about Grayson until I understand the curse and how to break it, so, yeah. We might as well do this. My father always taught me to be prepared, no matter what. Something I’ve failed at more than once. So really, there’s no better time to do this.”

Melinda got it. Lizzy needed to keep busy or her thoughts would overpower all sense and reason. So here they were, along with a disgruntled looking Lucas, ready to start learning how to become kick butt witches as promised by Lizzy. As desired by Melinda. As begrudgingly accepted by Lucas. And as entertainment for Courtney, who hovered between the Howard kitchen and the basement cell in which Grayson was currently held prisoner, until they figured out how to break the curse and what to do with him.

Michael was out taking care of witch business. Talk about keeping yourself busy or go nuts. After Emily’s hasty departure he’d brooded for a night, and after seeing Charlie wasn’t coming home the next day, had set into finishing the long list of precautions and alarms his brother hadn’t had the time to finish in all the chaos of the Feyk attack, followed by the vampire murders. The house was now magically protected as it could get, and he was out doing the same with the power source in White Pines.

Courtney hovered as they started in the kitchen. She no longer had her witch powers thanks to being turned into a vampire, accidentally, by William. But the newly turned vampire found the instruction interesting and listened in nonetheless, her own stay busy disease in high gear as she tried to embrace her new life, and let go of her old one.

The most difficult part being that she no longer required rest, or sleep, and had far too much free time on her hands. So she kept up to date on the blog she’d started, well, the blog her boss, Nethaniel Dante had wanted. As a way for the islanders to report mysterious sightings and such. It was partially her fault that things got so crazy on the Isle; non-magical folk were constantly searching for proof of the supernatural and she’d almost handed it right over to them in her quest to track that murderous Feyk, Stricker.

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, and 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 won’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 butt 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.

Ugh, 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. Darn it all, 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 heck 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 complete chaos 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.

##

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 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. But 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 wow, 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 dang 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 witch, 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.”

The corner of his mouth slid upward in a sly smirk. “Connection, it sounds so... cold.” He didn’t believe for a minute she’d allow anything to happen to him. Not yet at least. “You’re putting up a good front, My Lisbeth. My brave, brave, Lisbeth.”

The use of her old name, the name only he used for her, plucked at her heartstrings.

“Please, Grayson.” Now the desperation was in her voice. “I’m doing my best. This is not easy and I must take it seriously.”

“Still the witch who won’t give up.” He closed his eyes recalling how much he loved her for this. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” His simmering gaze flamed out to her, his refusal to give up ever present. “Our reunion will be most, intoxicating.”

Her breath hitched at the very idea. As when she’d first met him, horrified with herself for her body betraying her mind. Common sense discounted over hormones. And memories.

“You killed people, Grayson. I think, many people. Innocent people. I can’t,” she stopped, no idea where to go with this. “Please, just tell me about the curse.”

“Did you even miss me at all?” His confidence level didn’t lower at all.

“Of course I missed you, Grayson,” she snapped breathlessly. It was apparent they’d not get far unless they talked about them first. “I missed you every single second, of every single minute of my confinement in that ghastly form. I mourned you. And missed you. And thought you dead.”

“Obviously...” his nose turned up at the scent still lingering on her. Only a hint of the wolf remained, but it was enough to displease the vampire.

“Okay, look, Grayson. This is hard. For both of us. We both went through a living nightmare. And I honestly have no idea what the future holds for either of us, but it starts with you telling me about the curse. You said twice, we don’t have much time. Why is that?”

He nodded, squirming a bit against his bonds. He didn’t bother asking her to loosen them, there was no point. His bride was stubborn. And good. And would take no chances.

“Charlotte Howard... she was angry when I refused to turn her into a vampire. Angry when I would not fall for her after your death, and furious when I blamed her for your death and swore vengeance on her.”

“I assume you mean by swearing to never give her what she wanted, and turn her?”

“Yes.” He smiled a little. “Even after all these years, you know how I think.”

“I like to think we knew each other well. We were engaged after all.”

“Are,” Grayson corrected.

She did not respond to that. “Continue.”

“I thought she killed you, Lisbeth. I thought she took your life, and she did in the most brutal way possible. But I had no idea.” He hissed, furious at the memory. “Death would have been tragic enough, but what she did to you...” Pain etched his words. Pain that had been carving itself a permanent home for these last couple hundred years.

Lizzy wanted to offer comfort but did not dare move from her chair.

“Charlotte tried, oh so very hard, to force my hand. To trick me into turning her.”

“You did not,” Lizzy stated with fondness. This was a fact that had gotten her through so many long years in her ghasted form. That Grayson had loved her and not betrayed her.

“I saw her trickery. Her deceit. So I refused her. If I’d known what she did to you, what she would do to me for denying her.” His head dropped, the conversation weighting him. The werewolf blood tiring him faster than normal.

Unconsciously, Lizzy had inched her chair forward ever so little and leaned back purposely so as not to keep doing that. She needed distance and focus as Grayson explained how he still lived, and how he’d been cursed.

“Charlotte was cunning,” the vampire explained. Lizzy lifted a brow as in, yes, she was. “The witch knew. She knew what I’d do once I confirmed your death and she failed at forcing me love her, instead of you.”

Lizzy waited for him to explain.

“Do you remember, My Lisbeth... do you remember when I told you I love you more than my own life? That your lips were the only lips I’d ever kiss. You, the only woman I would ever love. That you owned my very soul, whatever that is for my kind.”

Lizzy held her breath. Each word he’d ever said to her engraved into memories that were suddenly fresh and cutting. Not events that had happened hundreds of years before.

“I do remember, Grayson. Although sadly, I didn’t fully believe all you said.” She shook her head. “I believed you, I just didn’t fully see the reality. I guess I was more naïve than I thought back then.”

“Time has changed you some. You’re a little more hardened in some places. Softer in others. But it’s still you. And I still lo...” Lizzy cut him off.

“Please don’t say that. I can’t hear it. Not today.”

There was a drunken smirk on his face. Because you want me to say it and can’t admit it yet. He would win this battle. Win her back. Lizzy belonged to him.

“Once I thought you dead,” he started up again with an inhale, “I could not bear the thought of an eternity without you. I’d already decided if you didn’t ever want to be turned into a vampire I would die with you. Whenever that moment came. A vampire who finds his true love cannot live without it. To do so even a day is like a century of hell. And Charlotte knew this. So clever that one. So very, very, clever.”

“That’s how she cursed you, isn’t it?” confirmed Lizzy, her voice weak. “She knew you’d try to kill yourself?” The idea that he loved her so much he’d take his own life moved her, so very close to tears, but she refused her body’s attempt to cry. Not now.

Grayson nodded. His gaze penetrating hers, drawing her in. Savoring the shortened distance between them as Lizzy unconsciously moved closer again. For a long quiet moment, he looked contented to sit, and drink her in. Or maybe it was just the werewolf blood keeping him reduced to this placid façade.

“You’re upset,” he said softly. “And still don’t like to cry in front of anyone.”

“That has not changed. Although it has been more difficult since I came back to life. I want to... feel. Everything.”

“It’s me, Lisbeth. There is no need to hold back.”

“I can’t, Grayson.”

Not now, or not ever?

Was there any chance of them having a future together?

The vampire held firm there was. His assuredness of this shown through any sluggishness of the werewolf blood.

“How did she do it?” Lizzy prompted, clearing her throat.

Grayson’s head tipped forward, his eyes straight on her.

“I burned. The agony, nothing, to the thought of living without you. And when all that was left of me was ash, I was done. Floating out to sea. The beyond. Heading to whatever afterlife there is for my kind. Any hell was better than living on this earth without you. Except I never made it.”

Lizzy rubbed her hands together a chill biting her skin.

She owed Grayson for his suffering. So much loyalty to her.

How much did she owe him though?

Even with all these memories returning like fresh wounds, there was no way to determine their worth. Her heart twisted, tearing a little more. The pull of her old love yanking her farther from her new love: the werewolf currently hiding out on his boat somewhere off the coast of The Demon Isle.

“And then it happened. The curse,” Grayson brought her back. “Charlotte used magic to collect my ashes and rebind my body back together. It took months to heal, fully. She fed me from her own vein, but only enough to heal. Never enough to get strong. She kept me weak and locked up, with no chance of escape. Not so unlike now.”

Another flash of guilt hit Lizzy, but she reminded herself this Grayson was not the same as the man she’d loved so long ago. Currently, whether by his choice or not, he was a killer.

“You’re right to do so,” he marveled with a weak grin. “Yes, I too can still figure out what you’re thinking. Don’t forget our bond, Lizzy. It’s broken, but when I’m strong again, when we are strong again, I’ll be in your mind just like before.”

A vampire ability that required an intimate connection. Like William did with Melinda when he slipped into her mind. She had told Lizzy everything she’d shared with Charlie over the last few days, all the things she’d kept secret over the summer. While they worked on potions and other lessons and tasks. Melinda needed a clean slate, and she’d also filled in a lot of blanks in things Lizzy had missed before getting back into her body, from many events over this summer and in previous years.

One of the biggest things to hit her of course, had been about Charlie. Actually, so many. And this frightened her a little, her thinking. Partly because of what Grayson just reminded her of. If they reformed a bond he’d be able to slip into her mind and see everything. Regardless of her choosing Grayson or Charlie, she would never purposely betray Charlie or anything he or his family had ever shared with her. And trusting Grayson with these secrets wasn’t something she was comfortable with. Yet. They’d just have to keep him weakened until she sorted this out.

Lizzy had been thinking a lot since falling for Charlie, just what his wolf bite would do to her. What it meant to be a werewolf. Or a werewolf mother. Or wife. Would she be giving up independence? Not that she did not trust Charlie with this, but it was something to consider. And she had thought that perhaps, like Charlie, she might be able to hold off the transformation. But as it turns out that would be unlikely as Charlie’s was only prolonged by the fact that Eva had bitten him while in her shifter form, not her true werewolf form. Which weakened the power of the bite enough for him to have some measure of control.

This would not be the case if he bit her since he was not a shapeshifter, but pure werewolf. And the transformation would need to happen before she got pregnant, it was safer that way. She shook her head; babies were a topic she didn’t have the luxury to think about today. So off subject.

“I wish I knew where your mind was this very minute,” Grayson broke in.

He so did not. “I guess we can’t read all of each other’s thoughts.” Thank God.

“I imagine I can guess.”

“Let’s not, and how about you finish telling me about the curse.”

He leaned his head back sucking in the lovely scent of her. Just being this close gave him the strength to go on.

“Charlotte was working on a way to force me to change her. She had my blood in her, but she needed me to bite her and drink her blood. She planned on killing herself as she didn’t trust me to do that for her. I might have taken it too far and left her for dead... super dead. Like totally dead not coming back a vampire, ever. But secretly, I was getting stronger than she realized. I drank off rodents that snuck into my cell. Not tasty in the least and not nearly as potent as human blood, but over time, enough to give me an edge.”

“You escaped?” assumed Lizzy.

“Yes. And oh was Charlotte furious. And I, a fool.”

Lizzy narrowed her gaze in question.

“She’d warned me if I escaped and left the Isle, I’d be cursed. I did not listen, thinking she was just trying to frighten me into giving her what she wanted. I think back now to have done it. Given her the immortality she sought. None of this would have happened and you and me, we would have been... happy. And she would have moved on from us.”

“I asked you not to. When I found out what she wanted. I asked you not to because I didn’t want her blood to tempt you.”

“And I went and lost my control anyway, and bit you.”

One of the most erotic things Lizzy had ever experienced, but she refused to linger in that memory.

“You’d done so well, Grayson. It had been over a year without human blood. Plus, the very idea she wanted to be a vampire confused me to no end. And I’m sorry, because you know how much I did not care you were a vampire, but in my heart of hearts I was not prepared for that outcome. I wanted to remain a witch. However, Charlotte as a vampire, she would have taken innocent lives.”

“Yes. I can guarantee that.”

“Don’t blame yourself for not giving in to her. You did it for me, Grayson.”

More worth she could not calculate the cost of, but the amount was climbing.

“And I can do it all again if you help me, Lisbeth. I don’t want to be the monster. I never did.”

She took a moment. Imagining her Grayson back. Somehow putting these deaths behind them... a second chance. Did she want it? Was it even possible?

“So what exactly did Charlotte do to you? How do we lift the curse? Why did you not return to the Isle after you escaped, or after Charlotte died? Why only now, are you returning and seeking out my help?”

“Because, when you freed yourself, you freed me. In part.”

It made sense if his curse was tied to her own.

“My Lisbeth, oh My Lisbeth. I was not aware of your condition when she first took my ashes and brought me back. Her curse forced me to exist in this world without you, a monster once again.”

“So the curse is why you’re feeding off humans again?” She needed to hear him say this was the reason. That it was in no way his choice.

“It’s the curse. Only the curse. I never wanted to defile your memory with such treachery. Charlotte made it so once I’d left the Isle, I was banned from ever returning. It’s a vexing mystery how she accomplished such things...”

Lizzy guessed it was extremely dark and powerful magic. Maybe even something to do with why Charlotte had fed him her own blood to heal him. Not just that she was trying to control his strength, or needed his blood inside her so when she died she’d become a vampire. But dark magic often required blood.

“The moment I was on the mainland, free of The Demon Isle, it all hit me,” Grayson continued. “Like some magical veil lifted out of my mind. Every horrid detail of what had been done to you. That you were a prisoner on the Isle. Not dead, merely a spirit without a body. Immediately I tried to return, my plan to do anything and everything necessary to free you. But alas, I was no longer permitted to step foot on the Isle. No matter how hard I tried. She’d forever split us apart. Charlotte made it so I was not even capable of speaking of it to another soul. Not even a way to send someone else in my place. And then, the thirst hit me...”

“You lived all this time with the knowledge of what happened to me?” Lizzy feared she might vomit. Grayson had suffered. Regardless of the deaths he’d caused, he did suffer as she had. Maybe more so as he knew the truth and was helpless to do anything about it.

“The truth is a pain unlike any other I have ever survived. It has nearly driven me to madness. I’ve come to believe I never truly escaped anything. Agony has followed me since the day you vanished.”

“Charlotte let you escape, didn’t she?”

“Hell hath no fury like a crazy witch scorned,” he returned in flat animosity. “I’m sure she meant me to suffer for spurning her advances and refusing to turn her.”

“It does appear that way. So why were you able to return to the Isle? What changed?”

“I didn’t understand what changed at first. Something was... different. Sadly, it took me weeks to figure it out. The magical block Charlotte put inside me, that’s the best way I can describe it, this block, lifted. It wasn’t until I accidentally spoke of you, and the Isle, that is struck me. You were free. And I was able to return, at last.”

“Because you could speak of it when before you could not.” Lizzy nodded in comprehension. Her mind flew through many thoughts, spanning all the years of her ghastly imprisonment. Imagining if she’d known Grayson was alive out there somewhere and being unable to reach out to him in any way.

The horror of this broke her heart.

She really had been much more naïve in her previous life.

How did she miss the true depths of evil Charlotte carried inside her? Was it because she carried the last name of Howard, it was easily overlooked or excused? Or perhaps it was that seeing such evil as real, was too much to accept as real?

Her memories of that time were a little fuzzy in some spots. But she’d missed so much. Everyone had. And after Charlotte failed at this task of becoming a vampire and remained human, she’d lived out her life on the Isle. No one ever truly knew the depths of her evil. She hid it well.

Lizzy had never been more satisfied with a death than Charlotte Howard’s final breath. Although it had not led to her freedom as she’d hoped. Only more years of captivity, thanks to her own despicable family who got addicted to dark magic.

“Okay, Grayson. I think I’m getting the overall picture of what happened and all you’ve gone through.” She kept her voice calm, while inside she was anything but. “How do we stop you from killing again? I’m assuming it’s the last part of the curse we need to break, and then you’re free of it all?”

“Yes. It’s the last string that needs to break. When your curse broke, the magic keeping me off the Isle broke too. At last, I was able to come and find you. Charlotte, dear cunning Charlotte. She planned for every eventuality like she saw into our futures.”

Lizzy’s eyed widened for a moment. Wondering... it wasn’t common knowledge that Charlotte had this magical gift. But it made sense she might have. How she so easily gained the upper hand and planned for things and futures not so easily guessed.

“You think she did,” Grayson realized aloud. “My mind is already more in tune with yours.”

Lizzy squirmed a little at that. “It would explain a lot if she did. But I don’t know this to be true. It’s possible perhaps, if it became public knowledge, it might have been recorded in some of the Howard history. I suppose it doesn’t matter now though. Only getting you free of this curse.”

He let out a languid sigh. “When I first left the Isle, the thirst hit me. So hard it burned. And I grew weak. So very weak. Not just physically, but inside my mind. She did something that made me crave human blood more so than ever before. And only blood of the living would heal the burn. But I needed to live. So one day I might find a way to free you from your suffering, Lisbeth. It was worth all the lives I took...”

“I cannot agree with you, Grayson. I would never put more value on my life than another. You know this.”

“I do. But I am a vampire.” The words tore out of him, each filled with anguish. “A vampire in love who tried to die, and did not. It changed me. Made me believe I was meant to live, and free you. I did try to stop. And after many years, I did try to kill myself again. But I was weak and did not. And now, the longer I go without living human blood the thirst gets stronger. It builds to a need so deep I cannot control it. I will kill any living thing.”

“Innocents...”

“Yes,” he admitted dejectedly. “The thirst took over, I had no control of whose life I snuffed out.” There had been a time he’d only drank from humans he deemed unworthy to live.

“Does this include me? Would you kill me?”

“I do not wish to find out.” His answer a brutal pull into reality. “The very idea I suffered all I have to return to free you, only to kill you... it would be a final sadistic revenge from Charlotte.”

“That it would.” Lizzy was getting sobered up now. Love him, hate him, their past set aside, she needed to fix this before another innocent life was taken. The consequences of his actions would have to be dealt with after. She’d not think about that now.

“You should also be aware Lisbeth, the curse, it worsens. Now that I am on the Isle, I fear I cannot leave it. Charlotte wants me stuck here now. With the bloodlust surging inside me.”

Lizzy cringed. There were so many possible meanings behind this. She suspected, again, to make sure Grayson had to die. And she had no doubt in his crazed state he’d be willing to hide the fact he was getting stronger, or possibly planning an escape.

Self-preservation was a strong motivator for human, witch, or supernatural being. They had just one vial of werewolf blood left, they’d need to get more, fast. And now that she’d spoken to him this would only give him more incentive to escape. Unless he was controlling his hunger in hopes of her help, and not being the monster anymore.

Disappointment hung heavy in Grayson’s gaze. “You’re afraid. Of me.”

“I understand the anguish you have lived through, Grayson. I do. More so than anyone else ever could. But I cannot, will not, allow you to hurt anyone else. You did all this to save me, and for that I can only be forever grateful. But I cannot condone taking innocent lives. I would prefer to stay a ghast if it meant you never killed a single innocent soul.”

She was pulling away. His tone took on a more desperate plea.

“We can go back to the way we were, Lisbeth. But the longer I deny this thirst, the deadlier I will become. The more unstable I will become. We don’t have much time. Hours? A day, until it gets too strong for me to deny the thirst. Unless you break the curse. And then we can live the life we were meant to.”

“I’m not sure I can, Grayson.” It slipped out but she meant this on all levels. “I’m sure you’re right that I have to break the curse, but I do not know how. And even if I do, I cannot see my future. Our future.” I’m not sure I still love you the same way I did, or if I can, again.

This riled him, the admittance surging too much energy into his bloodstream. He struggled against his bonds but even with the burst of adrenaline, sluggishly so, because of the werewolf blood still diluting his vampire abilities.

“This has nothing at all to do with me, or what I’ve done,” he growled. “And everything to do with that werewolf.”

“Yes. And no,” she spoke honestly. “What you’ve done is, reviling, Grayson. I’m not sure I can ever look at you the same again. It hurts me to admit because I do love you. I never stopped for a moment. You were cursed, but you did choose to keep going, and kill, even though it was to try to save me...” She stopped herself, unable to continue.

Lizzy was no less confused about the Charlie, Grayson thing. And was equally perplexed as to what to do with Grayson. Though he chose self-preservation and claiming it was to save her, didn’t he deserve a second chance? To prove he was in control once removed out of the curse. A second chance because he’d loved her so much and suffered so much.

If this had been a topic discussed a few days ago with regards to William Wakefield, the answer would have been deserved, maybe. But what about the innocent lives, stripped away without choice? Didn’t they deserve justice too?

But William wasn’t cursed. Only tortured near to death and forced to drink insane amounts of human blood to recover and survive. Riley had been cursed, and they held no death sentence over his head. He had not taken any innocent lives though. And she was the only one who carried any love or sentiment over Grayson, who had few acts of humanity to sway to the side of second chances.

She needed time to sort this all through but as usual, the clock was against them.

“How do I break the curse? You seem to think it has to be me.”

“A question I cannot answer, however, something tells me Charlotte would have made sure it had to be you. And no one else.”

Made sense at some level. Still did not tell her how though.

Was there any outcome that included Grayson Moone remaining alive?

From the look on his face, he did not believe it any more than she did. Which made him dangerous. To everyone.

When was Charlie coming back? Oh right, he hadn’t said.

They needed more werewolf blood. Fast.

##

LIZZY BARRELED OUT of the cell and locked it up without another word. She leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes. There was nothing more to say right now. And Grayson’s pained growls sliced her deep. Wasn’t this the ultimate betrayal in a sense? To refuse to stand by his side, fighting for him, as he always did for her? As he did do, in a sick way, all these years.

It was the first moment in her life she ever doubted.

Doubted that doing the right thing, was really the right thing.

That the good of all was better than sticking up for the man she’d loved, no matter what he’d done.

So many times she’d wondered, what made good witches go bad? What turned people who were inherently good, to the side of darkness? In some cases, it was easy to determine the path taken. The wrong choice made. Others, it was subtler, or impossible to find.

Lizzy swore if she looked below her feet she’d be standing on a precipice. She’d always lived by duty, and honor. Where did her duty lie? With the man she’d loved before, or in the life she’d always put first? A life she had not been willing to give up, even when engaged to marry Grayson. But also a life that had crapped all over her in a grand fashion.

Charlie... she inevitably ended up there.

Before Grayson had shown up, she’d let herself settle into a future with the wolf. She’d thought herself ridiculously lucky. Like perhaps fate had worked in some sick and twisted way to get her into the time and place she was meant to be.

And then her past was flung right back at her.

So what did that mean?

There was no such thing as fate? Was it all made up hoo doo?

She frowned and shook her head ruefully. If she was having this conversation with Charlie, he’d not even get angry with her for having such doubts. He’d understand, probably even wonder how she never did before considering the hand she was dealt.

But it all came down to innocence.

And even if the curse was to blame for Grayson’s condition, he’d taken so many innocent lives. It changed your view of someone whether you wanted it to, or not.

Nothing would be decided today.

And with each step up the stairs Lizzy realized she was taking another step back into the light. No matter who she loved, or wanted to love, she’d never allow innocents to get hurt. This wasn’t duty. Or honor really. Just basic belief in human equality.

No one life is worth more than another, ever.

No matter how much personal worth you give them over someone else.

No matter how much worth they are assigned by anyone.

Lizzy reached the top of the stairs, lighter, her head on straighter.

She explained all she’d learned to the others, and when finished, Lucas reached out and patted her shoulder.

“You look like explaining all that totally wiped you out. I can take you home if you want,” he offered. “It is getting late.”

“Not yet. There’s something I want to research first.” She looked to Michael and Melinda. “Do you have any old family records, back as far as when I was alive? Or really, I’m looking for Howard history.”

“Charlotte?” Michael assumed.

“Yeah. Her.”

“We do have archives, it’s worth a look.” They all filed into William’s study. It didn’t take long to find the archived Howard history, but it did take time to find the right period. They had to go back quite a few years.

“These must be a bit like reading your own biography,” stated Melinda after they’d been searching for a while.

“A little bit. Odd really, to have lived so long, and see your past written down in a book. Especially when it’s the incorrect version and my existence became nothing but a footnote. I’m sure Charlotte made sure of that.”

“She probably also made sure that things she didn’t want revealed about herself were not included,” noted Michael. “But we’ll keep looking just in case.”

The entry on Lizzy wasn’t all that big. Mostly, it talked about when she went missing. There was even some who believed her vampire had lost his way and killed her. She hadn’t heard that while in her ghastly form. Poor Grayson. Again. Forced to put up with those accusations. And most likely Charlotte’s doing. Once those people lost trust it was not easily earned back.

“It’s weird how time can somehow romanticize reality,” she murmured to no one in particular.

“How so?” prodded Lucas.

“Just the generalness of how I pictured my life after I lost it. Sometimes now, seeing the truth with a little more clarity, and distance, I wonder why I ever wanted to go back.”

“So it wasn’t all skittles and rainbows?” jested Michael gingerly.

“It wasn’t all bad, or all good, I guess it just... was.”

It didn’t take long to find a few sections about Charlotte Howard. Most notably, her excellence as a witch. The first woman to train other witches in combat and battle.

“I wanted that job,” Lizzy recalled. “It was not an easy time to be a woman and a witch. Not so unlike today in some things. Men still don’t like women in combat. It was even harder in my day.”

“You’re doing that job now,” reminded Melinda. “You didn’t end up being the first woman to do it, but I’d wager you’re one of the best teachers considering how Charlotte turned out.”

Lizzy chuckled. “I do like teaching you guys. I always saw myself teaching others. Someday I’ll get to teach my little babies,” she caught herself. She hadn’t meant to say that. She swore she heard Grayson snarling in the basement. Babies and the vampire were not possible. She’d never wanted them in her previous life.

No one said anything.

“Oh, look,” prompted Lucas. “I found another Charlotte entry.”

They clambered around the book he held. It was old and made of weathered leather. But all the Howard history books had been protected by magic, so they’d last as long as the Howard’s remained witches.

“That’s right,” said Lizzy after a minute. “It’s coming back to me now. I had been so eager for Charlotte’s death thinking it would free me, I did not attend her funeral. I had...” she shook her head. “I went to a very dark place when she died, and I wasn’t freed. I thought her death would end my curse.” She shook herself before delving too deeply into that dark vacuum that nearly sucked away all her hope. “Anyway, this never made sense to me. Charlotte didn’t want her body burned and put into the Howard Mausoleum as was the tradition.”

“Huh, that does seem odd, seeing as that’s where nearly every Howard ends up. If it’s possible.” Michael scrubbed his hand across his chin. It hadn’t been possible with their parents who were now permanent residents inside the old tree next to the power source. “I don’t recall anyone in our family who specifically requested a ground burial. On the witch side of things, at least.”

“No, because supposedly, if the body of a witch is burned after death, their magic is said to return and strengthen the bloodline. Who knows if that’s true or not,” rattled Melinda.

Lizzy shrugged. “Whether true or not, Charlotte did not go with the tradition. And they obliged her final request. She specifically wanted a ground burial. She’s in The Demon Isle Cemetery. Probably not much of a headstone left after all these years. Or, knowing Charlotte, it’s mystifyingly pristine.”

That got a few chuckles.

Michael held up a page from another Howard history book. It was a map of the cemetery, including the names of all the non-witch Howard family buried there. The ones who married into the family but were not from the witch bloodline. It also included members of the Deane family, non-witch and witch, as even though their bodies were burned after death as well, they’d never built a mausoleum like the Howard’s had done.

Lizzy grabbed it and looked it over. Her breath catching at seeing a name she recognized. “Mathew...” It had been such a long time. She looked up to see everyone staring at her. “An old friend. He died far too young. Before I was ghasted. Actually, the same day I met Grayson. But I miss Mathew like he died yesterday.”

“He was a witch?” asked Melinda.

“Yeah. The clumsiest and most loveable witch I’d ever known. Would have been a master potion maker had he lived longer. And been permitted to practice his craft more freely.”

“How do you mean?” asked Michael. “Witches made potions in your time too.”

“Yes, but it was considered one of those jobs for the ladies,” she jabbed. “Men learned some basic knowledge about making potions, but they were expected to fight. Be the protectors. If Mathew and I could have switched roles, I think we’d each have been much happier. He was an inventor really. Had a keen, scientific way of thinking of potions. Back in my day, the elders of the community did not see the value in mixing science with witchcraft.”

“It was such a different time,” Melinda said. “Crazy to think about, I imagine even crazier to have lived then, and now.”

“Times have changed, no doubt. Mostly for the better. My father taught me all about potion making, but anything cool I learned about potions, I learned from Mathew Bishop.” His name rolled off her tongue fondly.

Lucas coughed, and cleared his throat. “Bishop? Mathew Bishop?” he repeated incredulously. 

“Yes.” Lizzy cocked her head, the look on her brother’s face unreadable. And yet it was distressing for some reason. 

“He wasn’t a Howard or a Deane?” queried Michael. “I didn’t realize that was even a thing.”

“It didn’t happen often, but now and again a witch family would come to live on the Isle. Sometimes, just for a while. It was sort of a safe haven. As safe as things got for witches at the time. Mathew was the last in his line. When he died, followed by his father a few years later, the line ended. Sad really. He might not have been the best witch, but there were few who matched his honor or loyalty.”

“Were you in love with him?” Courtney had a twinkle in her eye.

Lizzy shook her head. “No. No, it wasn’t like that between us. It never would have been. Mathew wasn’t into me. Nor I him. Not in a romantic way. Lucas?” she threw his name at him. He was looking pale and like he was about to fall over a cliff or something. “Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah. Fine. Sorry.” He shook his head, some of his color returning.

“You didn’t just have a traveling thingy did you?” asked Melinda.

“No. No, not that. Just a weird, déjà vu kind of thing. Coincidence I’m sure, I had a, um, friend... same name, Mathew Bishop. He moved away a few weeks before I came to the Isle.” Melinda swore his words carried a bitter sort of sadness.

“Fairly common name I’d imagine,” noted Michael. From the look on his face, he was picking up the same emotion Melinda had heard in his words, but let it go. Wasn’t his business.

“Sorry, Lizzy, I didn’t mean to interrupt. You were saying?” Lucas looked frayed, refusing eye contact with Melinda though she attempted to catch his eye.

“Oh, well, Mathew was a really special guy. My best friend. I would have done almost anything to see him happy.” It was still hard to think about, even after all this time. The happiness her friend had never expected to find. She hoped he was happy in his afterlife. And at peace.

“So, um, we have a map. Any reason to go to the cemetery?” Michael put forth, getting them back on topic.

“No,” Lizzy responded. “I don’t honestly think any of this helps our cause. I was hoping for more about her magical gifts, but nothing is listed that wasn’t already public knowledge. And what I’m looking for is an ability to see into the future.”

“She sure did seem to guess a lot of things right,” conceded Michael.

“Kind of scary right,” Melinda chorused.

“And yet none of this helps me figure out how to break the curse.” Lizzy set the book aside. Overwhelmed, exhausted, her brain overloaded with memories and uncertainty. The air in the room becoming too thick, and too hot. And chances were, even if Charlotte did possess some gift of foresight, she must have kept it hidden.

“Want me to take you home, Lizzy?” asked Lucas, determined he would whether she wanted to or not. She wasn’t the only one who needed a little air. However, she put up no fight.

“Yeah. I need to do that now.”

She hurried out of the study needing fresh air and a mega dose of clarity.

##

A LONG TIME AGO ON an island not so far away...

Lisbeth Deane found the beach she was searching for. It wasn’t difficult, just took a little while as the path to it was overridden with boulders, jutting roots, and fallen trees. But it was the only place to be alone for a time. And listen to the waves. Let her sadness get carried away with each pass out to sea.

She plunked down on a small plot of sand uncaring if it got all over her dress.

The impact released an instant stream of tears.

This was her crying beach. The only place she ever shed a tear; never did she do this in public, or around her father. It was a sign of weakness and something she could not afford to do.

Kindness, sympathy, comfort, tears threatening to surface... these were safe emotions. But to actually cry in front of anyone was not acceptable.

She was going to miss Mathew. So very much.

His life torn away in a blink by a single act of bravery. Or complete lack of faith in any true self-worth. Either, equally painful. But hopefully he was happy now. At peace. Safe. Loved.

Too late of course, it was sinking in just how true a friend he had become. Not that she took him for granted, but not having him around these last few days had been hell. She never felt more alone. She had her father, the other students and witches.

And Charlotte, who she no longer called friend after her abhorrent behavior.

But without Mathew to confide in, there was an emptiness she had no idea how to fill. Looking into her future, there was no filling it. There was no one on this island who understood her.

Maybe this would change.

But tonight, she simply missed her friend.

A sob caught her as her head sank into her hands.

Her watery eyes caught movement to her right.

She sucked in a sob and managed to climb to her feet unsteadily.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Her voice shook, the sobs unwilling to stop.

It was the vampire. Grayson Moone.

Doing nothing at all but returning an intense stare like the sight of her in this state was some personal torment.

“Please go away,” she begged. “Or should I be running for my life?” she squeezed out.

“I am not here to hurt you. I swear it.” For some messed up reason, she believed him. “Whatever on this earth has made you cry so?”

“Why haven’t you left the Isle?” She wasn’t about to share why she was upset with him.

“Why haven’t you told anyone about me?” he returned.

More guilt, to top the pile of immense sadness.

She should have told, but had not. Keeping him to herself.

Why had she done it? There was still no logical reason.

“Wait, how do you know I have not told?”

“I have not been hunted, or driven away. I’m still alive.” He approached, his entire body stiff with unease. “Please, tell me what has upset you. Although, I must admit, if you claim it be another living thing I may have to tear it to pieces for causing you such pain.”

“You’re a vampire. Why should you care of the woes of one human girl?”

“You are not a girl. And as to why, I’m not sure I fully understand the why. Only that I find myself compelled. You are interesting to me. In a manner no other female of the species has ever been before. Vampire or human.”

“I am merely a witch. Nothing more. There is little to be interested by. Especially to the likes of a man who has lived as long as you have.”

He grinned, a touch a smugness. “You called me a man.”

“You are male. I was generalizing. And that was not my point.” She sniffled, her sobs more controlled, her face red and splotchy. Regardless, she was not about to back down to this vampire.

“You still did not answer the why,” he pointed out.

“Why I didn’t speak of you?” She stalled, unsure of the truth, even in her own heart and mind. “I suppose it was because you did not hurt me. Or anyone else. If you do though, I will not hesitate. And... there was something genuine in your words.” A shameful admittance, and probably naïve.

“I like that you speak the truth. You are honest. And forthright. Not a quality you see enough of these days.”

“I imagine that is a truth anywhere on this earth.” A reality she was quickly becoming all too familiar with.

He stepped with purposeful caution, approaching her. She tried not to flinch at his movement, but trust and vampires was not an easy thing to accept. Or expect.

“I only wish to offer comfort, My Lisbeth.” His voice was deep and penetrating straight to her core.

“Why do you call me that? You don’t know me. I’m not... yours. I’m not anyone’s.” Her response sounded weak and pathetic, even to her.

“I plan to make you mine.” His tone warned he already thought of her as his, it was only a matter of time until she’d come to believe it too.

Lisbeth’s eyed widened. “I would rather die than become like you. I am a witch. With responsibilities. You are a... a... a killer. Even if in your mind they are humans who deserved it.”

Hurt. Inexplicable hurt in his charcoal eyes.

For some reason, this shot a stab of guilt into her gut. But she refused to back down, entirely.

“I’m sure you don’t see yourself as a monster, Grayson Moone. But I could never condone a life of killing in order to feed, and live, even if it is from sadistic humans, as you say.”

“Would you not kill to survive?”

“Oh, no, we’re not spinning this subject around to me! If I were attacked, I would defend myself, of course. If I knew of true evil intent on killing innocent lives then yes, it is part of my job to protect those lives. But never for my own personal gain.”

“Is that how you see vampires? We kill for our own gain? Hmm. Narrow minded view. Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

Her hands landed on her hips, “Now look here.”

He closed the gap between them.  “No. You pay heed to my words. I never asked to be turned into this monster whose skin I’m forced to wear. I have no control over the need for blood to survive. I would never do so willingly if there was another way.”

“Others of your kind don’t think like you do,” she pushed out, determined to stand her ground, which was difficult when it swayed a bit under her feet. The vampire so up close and personal made her unsteady.

“Like living off animals?” he scoffed. Like she had suggested during their first meeting.

“Well, why not? It’s blood.”

“Technically...”

“Do you,” she paused, getting her courage. “Do you find my blood appealing?”

“I find all human blood appealing.” An honest answer. “But yours has a most delectable fragrance.” His eyes closed, breathing her in. “Like wildflowers and whiskey. Like untamed woman.” His gaze trailed down her body in a manner that stated untamed was his favorite flavor. Her knees wobbled and she forced them to stiffen and hold her weight. 

“You speak as if we have some sort of future together. I am a human.”

“Not a concern for me.”

“Right. Of course not,” she scoffed. “Can I trust you not to... drink from me? Or is this just how you do it? Play some game of, oh, look, what a sweet, innocent human girl, let’s make her think I’m different than all the other vampires. Make her think she can trust me. And just when she gives in you...” There was a disgruntled growl and Lisbeth found herself wrapped in the vampire’s arms, her feet a few inches off the ground, the tips of her toes barely reaching the tops of his feet.

His arms held her firmly against him, but gentle enough not to injure her delicate body. His gaze possessed hers, silencing her outward and inner thoughts. His eyes never once flickered to her vein, only locked onto hers as if trying to prove his sincerity.

To her dismay, her body relaxed under his grip. Why couldn’t her body and mind agree this was the most terrible idea ever?

“You have no idea how tempting a female you are, do you? And I do not mean your blood.”

“Tempting is not the word most men use to describe me.”

“No. They wouldn’t. You frighten them because you’re their equal. They don’t understand how to handle you.” Not like I can, she was sure he added silently.

Instead, her brain got stuck on, “You see me as their equal?”

“And so do they. But unlike me, they’re not willing to admit it. It might knock their precious egos down a peg.”

This was all so very, very wrong. She’d come here to mourn.

And now was locked in the arms of a vampire who didn’t seem willing to let her go.

A vampire! With a conscience. It was not easy to fathom.

She should not let her guard down so easily. Was she so desperate for this hole Mathew’s death had left in her soul to be filled, even a little, she’d resort to a friendship with a vampire?

“You should put me down,” she spoke as firmly as possible.

“I intend to. Eventually.”

She fidgeted under his grasp.

“Once you tell me why you are saddened so? What drove you to this place?”

A wave of grief washed over her at the thought of poor Matthew. This wasn’t pain she shared, nevertheless, her body betrayed her again, the sadness obvious. Another gasp and flutter of movement later, Lisbeth was cradled in Grayson’s arms as if he was planning on carrying her somewhere. She demanded he put her down at once. Of course, he did not. Instead, he sat on the sandy beach leaving her cuddled against him in his lap.

He eyed her sternly. “Now, tell me. Or if you prefer I can force it out of you.”

“Your vampire persuasion doesn’t work on witches you know?”

“I am aware. I am hoping my smoldering eyes, dashing grin, or charming wit will do the trick.”

She lowered her head and gave a short laugh. An actual laugh.

“See, I’m squeezing my way into your heart already.”

Not one to give up the upper hand, or be told what to do, Lisbeth decided to make a move to knock the cocky vampire down a peg. She lifted her head, leaned in, and kissed him.

She really should have thought that idea through.

His shock was instant, an icy hitching of breath underneath her lips. His exhale, as if something most exquisite, and heavenly, was happening.

In another air sucking flash of movement, Lisbeth was on her back with the vampire stretching out over her proving he was in charge. And oddly, although her heart was racing like a runaway horse, she was not afraid of him. The kiss meant to prove she had some control over the situation had somehow got flipped around, and now she wanted him to kiss her.

He did.

Passionately. Reverently. Wickedly.

And then he hissed and was upward, on his knees peering down at her.

Lisbeth lay there, breathless in the sand, staring up at flat black eyes so hungry they sucked the rest of her breath away.

“You’re not so safe around me at all, are you?”

“No. But I dare say I must make myself so as I am smitten. Dead heart, and no soul. These things are no longer owned by me, they all belong to you.”

She kept still. Didn’t make any unexpected moves having tempted fate enough for one night. Surprisingly, she liked the way he was all possessing of her. The words he spoke were unlike anything she’d ever heard uttered from any other man. She’d have accepted his actions from no other, but from this vampire...

Curses!

She was all kinds of messed up if she thought this was acceptable.

And still, she didn’t try to escape.

Grayson calmed, his dark gaze lightening, the hunger for her still present though. 

“Come back to me,” she whispered, barely recognizing her own voice.

He gazed down, stunned by her request. But he did so, cautiously. She caressed his face, drew her fingers across every plane. Each draw of her fingers akin to a hellish torture.

“You’re an exquisite specimen, Grayson Moone.”

“No, that title is yours to hold. I am but a shell of a man. A thing, living in a body designed to take down my prey.” He’d said that before, it held new meaning now. More like, tear down all the walls she always kept so securely in place.

“You really don’t want to be a monster, do you?”

He did not. He craved companionship. A normal life, as normal as possible. His eyes closed, daring to dream of finding it. If only for a time. Lips came up to his and he claimed them right back as if it hurt to let go. But he did let go before it became too much temptation.

“Please don’t say something stupid, like I’ll be the man who tames you...”

He stopped her with another gentle kiss. “Now what fun would that be?”

She bit back a grin.

What a wicked and dangerous thing this was. Making herself utterly vulnerable to a vampire. Wouldn’t it be the same with any man though? To some degree. Perhaps losing Mathew had made her realize how lonely she really was. How bleak her future looked, even more so without her friend. And there was that sadness again. Like a heavy stone weighing her down.

“Please tell me,” Grayson pleaded. “Please trust me with your secret.”

“What you ask is... difficult. Not because you’re a vampire,” she clarified.

He got them off the sandy ground and had her back into cradle position a second later.

“Because you don’t share, do you?”

“Can you read my mind?” she wondered. She followed it with a head shake. “No. Of course not. You’d not be asking me about my secret.”

“I cannot read your mind,” yet, he added in excited silence. Although he was very much looking forward to the day he did. He’d leave no corner of her mind unturned.

“But somehow you read me like an open book,” Lisbeth said pointedly.

“Do not ask me how as I have no answer. This is new to me. Please, Lisbeth, allow me to be the keeper of all your secrets.”

“Will you do the same?” she turned it back on him.

“Whatever you want of me. I can hold back nothing.”

She let out a languid sigh, looking downward. He lifted her chin.

“I... I lost a friend. He died saving someone else.” She needed a minute to continue and he was ever so patient. “He was my only true friend. The only person I was ever honest with. He was... a treasure. Now lost, forever.”

“You lost him in the battle?” Grayson surmised.

“Yes.”

“And you came here to this beach, to be sad? And alone?”

“Yes. It is better this way.”

“To be alone in grief? Never.”

“For you, or others, this might be true. But for me it’s better this way. It’s necessary.”

Grayson didn’t know quite enough to understand the whys of that statement. But he didn’t care. This solo act changed from now on.

“You come to me now when you’re sad. Or alone. Or upset. Or in need of comfort. Or kisses.” He spoke like it was decided, no option of refusal.

“I do not understand you.”

He lifted a brow in question.

“A vampire with his choice of human women, and I’d wager vampires. Who is capable of living anywhere on this earth, who possibly has lived nearly anywhere on this earth. I’ve heard the stories. I’m not so naïve as you might think. Some human women take vampire lovers, usually to their own demise. My point being, you could have any human in this world with a few simple words of persuasion, so why me? Why do I fascinate you? Why are you so kind to me?”

The inflection between her words admitting she was not used to extreme kindness from many. Probably one of the reasons she chose to mourn in secret. To show weakness among those who already show little respect is to show weakness.

“I cannot say, other than I cannot stay away from you. Like I said, this is new to me. Something in all my years I have never experienced. Perhaps it’s because I cannot persuade you. That your mind is your own. I did try to leave the Isle after our first meeting; my feet refused to be obey my order to do so. I am drawn to you like nothing else on this earth.”

“Except for blood.”

“Not even the purest, most delectable blood on this planet could wrench me away from you. Which is why I must stay. I need to understand what this is.”

“So I’m an experiment?”

“No. I hope you are my life.”

She had no response to that other than a flutter of electricity surging through her veins. His words finally sank into her rattled and befuddled brain. 

“Wait... you’re going to stay? Here? On the Isle?” How was this going to work out? Her fellow witches would not take kindly to a vampire living on the Isle, not one who was a danger anyway. A good vampire though? And was he? Really?

“Actually, I’m not only going to stay, but I’m going to agree to your terms.”

“What terms?” she sat back a little, staring, with no recollection of setting any terms.

“No more human blood. You will never fully trust me unless I do this. And I must have your trust, Lisbeth.”

Her breath caught, shocked by his willingness to even consider trying such a thing. And all for her, because he had some crazy infatuation.

Which might go away once he gets bored, or decides he likes human blood more.

Possibly even yours.

So many things about this screamed, dangerous. With the potential for utter destruction. At the same time, she wondered if he wasn’t an innocent of sorts sent her way as a test of some kind. Was it possible to help him do this? Wasn’t it her duty to try, at the very least, if nothing else ever came of them, together?

“Please, My Lisbeth.” His use of that term already endearing to her.

How had this creature wrapped himself around her heart so easily?

“Grayson...” no words made it past her tongue.

He grinned confidently. “I am afraid that no is not an option.”

She giggled. Her face flattening to stone. She did not just giggle for goodness’ sake! She tried her best to hold it in but to no avail.

Grayson had her on her back in the sand in another flash.

“I like that sound, a most happy one,” he ground out. “A sound that absolutely forces me to kiss you again.” His timbre promised he planned on being the only man who kissed her for the rest of her life.

And in that moment, Lisbeth Deane fell madly in love with a vampire.

##

RILEY DEANE SAT AT a long wooden dining table, him, the only human in attendance or eating real food. However, this did not keep his present company from sitting together and enjoying a late family dinner.

The injuries he’d subjected himself to in his drunken stupor a few nights before, healed, little by little. After that ass-beating, he woke up the unexpected guest of the vampire, William Wakefield, and no longer staying in Jean and Annie’s free room above the pub. Riley had assumed he’d be returning there, but William had adamantly insisted he remain a guest in his home.

Riley wondered what the vampire’s version of guest was, but so far, he’d been nothing but hospitable. Distant and not around much, but not unfriendly. Which only kept Riley on his guard even more as he figured the vampire was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

How the heck had this even happened?

A guest in the home of William Wakefield, and not on The Demon Isle. But in New Orleans. Inside Sorcier, a magically hidden town of supernatural beings who somehow managed to live peacefully and in secret. A place the vampire had created before his time on the Isle serving the Howard family.

Guest?

Prisoner?

In Riley’s mind they were one and the same in William’s home. Although he trusted Jean and Annie. They’d given him no reason not to, other than not coming clean about it being William, who created Sorcier. Regardless, he hadn’t pushed his luck by trying to escape. Had not dared would be more accurate. And after his severe beating the other night, he’d been in no mood to go far anyway. He needed a few days to recover from that stupidity.

And now here they were, acting out the part of a happy foursome eating dinner. Well, he was the only one eating. The other three were drinking their meals. Annie was in the seat next to him, with Jean and William on the opposite side; the three of them speaking freely and easily, like old friends. Which they were. Like hundreds of years old friends.

So many secrets William had. Riley suspected not even the Howards were aware of this place or the vampire’s part in creating it. And how bizarre, to be the one human seated at dinner with three vampires. A young man alive a mere blip of the lives they’d lived. Riley chugged down some beer, plate emptied. First drink since his bad trip a few nights ago; funny, how fast a body forgot what feeling like complete crap felt like. The drink went down easy. With plenty of room for another.

He’d been so out of it when he’d awakened a few nights ago to a strange room. He’d even thought he might be dead for a brief moment, until he saw aspirin on the side table. It was only a few minutes after realizing he was alive, but in a home he didn’t recognize that he came back around to, I may not be dead, but I’m about to be. The murderous stare on the vamp’s face had claimed such.

But a second later, Annie sauntered into the room like she owned the place and put her hands on her hips and glared at her “father” who abruptly evened his stare, and shrugged as if to say, had to scare him, just a little. Turns out, this is where Annie and Jean lived. He hadn’t been to their home, only seen them in the pub, or hanging out with Annie around town.

He had been beyond shocked to discover it was William who saved his butt from a beating that would have put him in the ground if it had continued much longer. And the vamp had brought him here, to this house.

His house. In Sorcier, in the middle of the French Quarter in New Orleans.

Wrapping his brain around all this was driving him nuts.

Riley was finding it difficult getting over the fact that not only did William save him, but had this whole other life no one on The Demon Isle seemed to be aware of. The vampire had hinted as much, but Riley had only been half listening, his nerves on high alert, sure the vamp had saved him only so he could personally inflict pain and suffering, himself.

But so far, nothing but hospitable. A little distant on his part, and often, lost in his own thoughts, but no hint of danger flinging out at Riley whenever he was around the vampire. He’d wanted to ask him a hundred times why he wasn’t on the Isle, and how everyone was after the Feyk battle, but each time had lost his nerve. So afraid of the answer.

And there was that letter, apparently from Jack, the Howard’s father. Riley’s memory of it was hazy as his head had just been recently bashed in, but he’d guess it had more to do with that letter than anything else.

And like the vampire needed a reminder of the torture Riley had subjected him to, by bringing up the Feyk and Eva Jordan. He’d finally remember why he had saved Riley... so he could be the one who broke his neck, or...

Riley shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Probably just biding his time.

Tricking me into thinking I’m safe.

Attack me first chance he gets.

Perhaps now was a good time to move on.

He’d miss Jean and Annie though, they’d been nothing but kind and welcoming. 

Hard to believe it was William who created Sorcier. He was Annie’s sire, her father, for all intents and purposes. Riley huffed under his breath. It was so William to come the rescue. Except Sorcier was a much larger group of people and not one of them was named Melinda Howard.

From what he was beginning to understand, William was practically royalty here.

And of course, this is where he’d end up, smack dab in the middle of a world created by the vampire he wanted nothing to do with. One who deserved to take some sort of revenge out on him after the torture William suffered at his hands.

And Annie was right in her summation of him. Though he looked upon his daughter with utter adoration and genuine love, it was encased in deep regret. He still held tremendous guilt over what he had done to her.

As he should, thought Riley. It didn’t matter Annie was okay with it. She hadn’t had the choice; it was done to her. No one should ever not have a choice.

He’d not had a choice in getting cursed. It was not something he wanted to experience again.

Reluctantly, part of him empathized with the cursed vampire he loathed so much. They’d both done unforgiveable things they could not undo.

And dang it, we’re back to I’m hanging out with fricking vampires!

What had become of his life?

Oh, right, ran away after said curse ended because he didn’t have the balls to face everyone he’d hurt. Most especially Melinda. Who had feelings for his vampire host. No, not feelings for, was in love with.

Riley had remembered enough from his time under the Feyk’s curse. Melinda loved him too. She loved them both, just in different ways. But which was real? Which kind of love, won? If it was him, was it enough to know she loved him more? Or differently. Or the way that mattered most?

If the vampire wasn’t a vampire, who would Melinda choose?

Riley believed the answer to that question mattered more than any other.

And if her response was not him, but she still chose him because she refused the vampire for a human, well, how did he reconcile that?

It was just another type of prison really, to be in love with someone and never be certain they wholeheartedly loved you back, not like you loved them. Albeit it would be a much nicer prison than being under a curse. And hell, he was acting like this was still some kind of option. Like he had any chance after what he’d done. Curse or no curse, he’d ruined any chance of a future with Melinda.

Annie nudged his arm, looking at him pointedly.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Lost in my own mind tonight.”

“I can see that. I can hear it too. Your heartbeat is all over the place.”

Great... stupid vampire hearing.

“Anything you want to share?”

“No.” His answer was short and emphatic. Annie caught him casting a wary glance at William and guessed it had something to do with him, and therefore, Riley would not speak openly. She didn’t push, but she’d try later.

“Jean and I are off to open the pub for the night.”

“Right, time to get to work.”

“Not you.” It was William.

“Why not?” Riley blurted, pissed by the clear angst he did not hide.

William’s pose relaxed, he thumped back in his chair. Almost like he didn’t want to say why. But then, “It’s time we had a talk.”

Riley was not excited about that idea at all.

Annie grasped his hand and squeezed. Jean cast William a distant, yet somehow fixed, stare. She wasn’t privy to this topic either, is what Riley guessed. But she didn’t give off vibes of being concerned for his personal safety.

Jean and Annie departed.

The house got eerily quiet.

Quite instantly, Riley was sick of hearing his own breaths. He gave a start when William listed forward, but all he did was lean forward putting his hands up to his face. Such a seemingly human act, and so not the vampire he was getting used to.

“You are not here because of the reason you think.” William lifted his head, gaze on Riley.

“Um...”

“Your gift did not bring you to Sorcier is what I mean.”

Riley’s brow lifted, not understanding. “My gift is the exact reason I got here.”

“Fake. I hired some friends to create a spell to mimic your gift and get you here.”

Blunt and honest. This was the vampire he remembered.

Riley plunked back in his chair, although he was seriously wondering if now was the time to try to run. If he was brought here on purpose, William must really have some plans to torture him. Or kill him. Or make his life miserable in some way.

“I didn’t bring you here to harm you, Riley.” His tone didn’t sound so certain. But the nature of Riley’s entire being must have shown that’s what he’d been thinking.

“Why did you bring me here?”

William stalled for a moment. His even façade cascading into a rush of emotions that charged across his face with such speed Riley wasn’t able to pin them.

“Melinda,” the vampire finally got out. “I did it for her.”

Riley froze. His blood, his skin, his breath. The hot, sticky New Orleans air didn’t melt a thing. 

William continued.

“She may not realize it yet, but she still loves you. And I cannot allow you to come to harm. It would kill her.”

Could Riley’s mind and body freeze up any more solid? This is not what he expected to hear. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

“You are an idiot for running away,” William spoke bluntly. “However, you are young. And human. And male.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone now. “If I recall correctly, this pretty much equals all things idiot. And I dare say, being a vampire aged over four-hundred-years means no less.”

Riley let out a rush of air, his body thawing out, and the corner of his mouth turning upward in an awkward attempt at a smile. Was the vampire attempting to be funny? Logic warned this was no laughing matter but his gut told him to relax. He lifted a brow at William, the smirk refusing to simmer down to anything too serious. If the vampire was attempting to diffuse the tension, he’d succeeded. Which surprised Riley.

William returned the gesture, albeit a thin smile, which held an honest compassion behind it. It was more humanity than Riley thought possible for the vampire.

“I um,” he shook his head, trying to get his brain to start working right.

“You were an idiot for running. I did not say I didn’t understand why you did.”

“How can you do this?” Riley grimaced, that hadn’t come out right.

William needed no explanation.

“You were under a curse, Riley. I can hold no permanent hatred. I seek no revenge. I, more so than most, understand curses.”

“But you love her... and she’s in love with you.” Riley bent into himself. He really should not have said that. Was he asking for trouble? And they both knew the her he was speaking of.

William said nothing, those mix of emotions surfacing and sinking again.

Riley changed the subject. “So the psychic chic, Aunt May, that reading was fake too, I suppose? Why does everyone want me to go back to The Demon Isle? That’s what you really want, right?”

“The reading was meant to help you clarify things. Give you some perspective. It turned into more but it was in no way, fake. Aunt May doesn’t do pretend. As for returning to the Isle, it is your choice, Riley. But on my part, you should.”

There was a string of words on Riley’s tongue but he held them in. He’d already just said it anyway, and it had nearly come out of his mouth again. The love word. Like he needed to keep reminding the vampire how much he should hate him.

“You are correct, Riley. I do love Melinda.”

Riley already knew this but it still hurt to hear from the vampire’s mouth.

“And there is a part of her that returns that love. There’s no point in lying. But the truth is, she will never be mine. And the reality is, you are good for her in a way I have never been, and can never be. She needs you. You Riley. Not me. Not ever me.”

William left out the part where he’d seen so much while delving into her mind. Not just the love Melinda had for himself, but for Riley too. And he’d seen the manner in which Riley cared for her, and to his equal dismay, and approval, it was nothing but honorable. And right. For Melinda.

It was Riley’s thoughts and fears come true; the vampire loved her and Melinda hadn’t made the choice, but it was being made. Riley Deane, the winner, by default.

William stood up, ready to leave the table.

“You are asking me to go back to the Isle and love a woman who will never fully love me?”

“Yes.”

“Even though she’ll never stop loving you too? Don’t bother denying it, or saying she’ll get over you, because she won’t.”

“That might be true, but it changes nothing.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. Love someone with every part of me with the knowledge she won’t ever feel that. Not to its fullest.”

“You can. Because even a little of her love is worth it.”

William was right about that. He really was. And yet it was still a bit like putting himself in some kind of prison. One that would forever hurt as much as it enraptured.

“I can’t face Melinda after all the suffering I caused her. How could she ever forgive me?”

“If you must ask that Riley, then I have misjudged you and you do not deserve her.”

Riley curled up into himself, hating that the vampire was right.

Blast it all, why was he always right?

What an awkward conversation. Talking about the woman they both loved, and the vampire basically saying, you win because I take myself out of the race.

“I’m not the only reason you’re here though, right?” If they were being ridiculous levels of honest, why not get it all out in the open.

William rumbled out a sigh.  “I assume you’re speaking of that letter you stole from my jacket pocket?”

“Sorry. I woke up in a strange place. No clue where I was. Hell, I wasn’t even positive I was still alive at first. I was hoping to find something to tell me where I’d ended up.”

William held the back of his chair like he needed the support. Again, looking meekly human. Weakened in some way.

“I am here in Sorcier because of you, and because it was time to see my other family. But yes, the letter is the reason I’m not currently on The Demon Isle.”

Riley was confused about what he’d read, and parts of it were fuzzy in his memory as he’d been hung over and suffered a severe pounding only hours before reading it.

“How are they?” he dared ask. “Is everyone on the Isle okay?” Is Melinda okay? The deep freeze crept over his heart again, hardening in wait for the answer. There was an anguished sigh and Riley hovered his gaze on the now outwardly distressed William.

“I cannot answer that with any certainty. I left the Isle before...” a clear look of agony passed across the vampire.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you in like, constant contact with them?”

“Not at this time. I’m fulfilling a final request from Jack Howard. And frankly, doing something I should have done years ago. It is not... easy for me.” In reality he was struggling with his choice to leave. Worried twenty-four-seven about what was going on back on the Isle, and if everyone was indeed, okay. He imagined they were not given all that had occurred before his departure.

“How could you leave them to fend for themselves?” Riley bolted out of his seat, rubbing his hand over his face. “Don’t they need you? What if they’re under attack again?”

William lifted a brow.

Riley backed down. “Yeah, okay, so I do care about them. Leaving, doesn’t mean I don’t. But it also doesn’t mean I want to go back. But you... aren’t you the great Howard protector? Always the vampire to the rescue, or something like that?”

“Or something like that.”

Riley grasped the back of his chair for balance, mimicking the act he’d just seen William do. The vampire had regained his composure though.

“If you wish to discover their conditions, there is an easy solution.” Riley eyed the vampire, his gaze questioning. “Pick up the phone and ask them.”

Riley scowled.

What was he expecting the vampire to say?

“I can be certain, regardless of what is going on back on the Isle, they are devastated over your departure. And it would ease their suffering to hear from you.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“If I did not believe it, Riley, we would not be standing here having this conversation.” William abruptly departed the room, effectively ending their talk, leaving the young man to ponder all that had been said.

##

CHARLIE PAUSED, STANDING in the driveway before heading into his home. Apprehensive about what exactly awaited him inside other than loads of trouble. He was about to see Lizzy again. He’d let his ears hone in on the voices inside, grateful for the wolf hearing today. She was speaking inside the mansion, the kitchen he guessed. No, wait, it was getting closer.

The front door swung open and Lizzy came pouring out of it only to freeze on the spot as if stuck in the middle of a place she did not wish to be. Eyes met. Said so many things their voices were not able to. But nothing had changed. If anything, it was worse than before Charlie had run away on his boat.

Them, even farther away now than before.

Lizzy’s heartbeat was erratic, skipping all over, and not just because of his appearance out of nowhere. She was upset about something, eyes brimming in waterworks she was fighting so very hard to keep in.

Lucas flew out behind her but stalled upon seeing Charlie and her staring each other down. He spun around and hightailed it back inside. Not even a single desire to witness this tense reunion.

Lizzy finished down the stairs and met him in the driveway. A steeled expression taking over.

Charlie had wanted to act cool and collected, instead, all he stammered out was, “Hi.” He dropped his head, shaking it. “My infamous favorite first words to you... you’d think I’d come up with something better by now.”

She relaxed her steeled expression. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump out at you, I was...”

“Needing some air?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Helping any?”

“Not yet,” she admitted, there was a slight tremble in her voice.

“Probably because I’m filling it,” he returned flatly, hating himself for his piss poor timing.

Lizzy flung her hands into the air. “I can’t do this, Charlie.”

His brows pinched together with a flicker of distress that made him fight the urge for the silver of his wolf to claim his blue eyes.

Was she choosing Grayson? Right now, already, just like that?

“I just mean I need to be me.” She clarified, seeing she’d instantly freaked him out. “I can’t tiptoe around and pretend all this isn’t happening. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Or anyone’s. That is the last thing on my mind. I just... need to be... me.” She threw her hands out in front of her and pinned her gaze on him, hoping he understood as she was not finding it easy to explain what she meant. “I guess you’re not the only one a bit tongue tied.”

Charlie grinned. Could not help himself. Like usual, he’d gone straight into worst case scenario mode. Pass or fail. There was no in between. Except there was, and he stuck living in it and dying to get out of it.

“I would expect nothing less, Lizzy. And I’m glad. Relieved, actually.”

She softened more, chewing on her ever so biteable lips. Charlie pretended not to notice but his gaze lingered too long and he had to force it away. The moonlight made her look soft and vulnerable, and seeing Lizzy in such distress when she was normally so sure of herself, bothered him tremendously. He wanted to make it better, but it wasn’t his problem to solve. The future was something she had to decide.

“We both knew this might get awkward, Lizzy, so let’s just be us. You’re right that neither of us can pretend otherwise.” At least this could be all in, or out, leaving nothing to the middle ground.

“There’s too much going on in my head. I need to be able to think straight, which is proving near impossible with everything going on. And so much harder if I can’t be myself.”

“Lizzy, we work good together and there’s no reason for that to change. You’re a live in the moment, wear your emotions on your sleeve type of person. I know you don’t think of yourself that way. But you don’t hold back and I don’t want you to on my account. Or Grayson’s, or anyone’s. I’d never ask that of you. Ever.”

And wasn’t that part of why she loved him so darn much!

She was not happy he was right about her though. No matter how she’d tried to control her emotions in public places, she did so poorly. Just because she’d save the worst of it for her “crying beach,” didn’t mean she hid the rest enough. It had never felt right, keeping it all in. She’d never been able to be herself in her first life, other than with Mathew, or her father.

And after being ghasted she’d determined she’d never live like that again. She was always getting herself into trouble for being unable to keep her mouth shut. That had not changed in all these years of her long life. Outspoken if she needed to be. She refused to hold back if it was important and needed to be said.

And damn the werewolf for being accidentally romantic and ridiculously understanding at a time like this. So very Charlie. And not helping because try as she might her body was completely betraying what her mind insisted was necessary. Was it possible for her mind and body to align, and agree, and behave, all at the same time, just once?

Ugh! These men!

Why did she fall so hard for the supernatural alpha types?

Somehow, these two males were able to see right through her. Just like Charlie was doing now. Just like Grayson did in the basement, and all those years ago when they’d been together.

It was written all over Charlie’s face, in the silvery blue swarming in his eyes. He was reading her like a book, saying every right word, and doing every right thing. It got her skin itchy and tight and burning up; simply too much testosterone! She needed some man free air to get her thoughts sorted out.

Charlie cleared his throat. Lizzy was putting off seriously worked up vibes. Some days, he wished it were possible to turn off the wolf senses, keep it from picking up all these little subtleties. Like the delicious honey and bourbon that was Lizzy Deane. Wolf part of him set aside, he was certain the male part of him would have picked up on it too.

The super hard part was not acting on it, or letting his body respond the way it wanted to... by stealing her away to some dark corner and kissing the ever loving heck out of her.

“So, um, what’s been going on? What all have I missed?” He needed to keep them to their promise to act normal. So far it was an epic fail, and only minutes in. So much for something not in the middle ground.

No, I can do this. It’s perfect really. Keep it business as usual.

Although the ache in his chest warned him otherwise, no matter how hard he tried to make himself believe he could let it go. Let her go, and do the job.

Lizzy started in explaining, ignoring the pangs in her chest, going over details from the last few days. Mostly, there was a big bunch of not a whole heck of a lot going down. Until today, when Grayson finally started talking.

Charlie tried very, very hard, not to growl or vocalize his displeasure over Grayson and some of what he’d said. Lizzy, as promised, was brutally honest. It took every ounce of control he could muster. And not just because it was so obvious the vampire was staking a claim on Lizzy, but that this entire confrontation had taken a toll on her. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually.

This was something he understood.

When she finished, Charlie didn’t stop himself from invading her space and wrapping his arms around her. It wasn’t romantic, just supportive. And she understood it as such.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” He genuinely meant it. And released her.

She tried her darndest not to roll her eyes and smack him for once again crossing that line into accidentally showing how much romance he was capable of. He was concerned, and sympathetic, and offering support, even if it meant he lost her to Grayson; it was impossible to get angry with him. Charlie being the nice guy was killing her. This would almost be easier if he’d just get angry.

He was fighting for her, in his own Charlie way though. He just wasn’t aware of it.

“So what are your thoughts about all Grayson told you, Lizzy? Do you believe all he said?”

“I am... no less confused at this moment than before. But yes, I do believe him. I can say with absolute certainty he would not lie to me. I have to admit though, I’m wondering if I need to remove myself from this situation entirely. The outcome, after lifting the curse, at least. I do not believe I can do this without being biased in my opinions. He is not the same as he was, but in my mind the past and present are getting muddy.” Her gaze explained silently, it doesn’t mean I’ve chosen him, I’m just confused, and the lines are getting blurrier.  

Charlie sighed, hurting on her behalf. Also filled with pride that one, she’d even consider removing herself an option, which meant she trusted the rest of them to do the right thing. And that above all else, she would step aside if it meant it was not the right thing to be involved. Just as he’d suspected. And didn’t it just make him fall in love with her a little more. He tried hard not to let it show. He wanted Lizzy to have her space, and freedom be herself and get through this. And be open with him, even if it hurt a little, or a lot. Whatever the outcome.

“Any idea how to break this curse? He seems to think you, and only you, can.”

“Honestly, Charlie, I have no clue. Not a single, worthy idea. It makes sense that it has to be me. This witch, Charlotte, was eerily prepared for this outcome. Like she knew every move we’d make before it happened. Like she saw the future. In some ways, almost like she somehow planned our future.” Lizzy hesitated for a minute. “Something about all of this isn’t sitting with me well.”

“You’re worried by breaking the curse, something else will happen.” He stated it, again, reading her too easily.

“I’ve run through a hundred scenarios in my brain and I can’t imagine, even if Charlotte was gifted with such foresight, she’d be able to conjure some other terrible thing from beyond the grave. It has to end with the breaking of this curse. But I have my doubts, Charlie. Seeing the lengths she’s gone, understanding everything she’s done so far.”

“It gives reason to doubt. We’d not be doing our jobs if we didn’t question.”

And frighteningly so, it brought Nina’s final warning to light. But he didn’t want to overwhelm Lizzy with even more possible bad news so he kept it to himself. He’d tell her once she’d had the chance to rest.

“It feels like I’m missing something. I hate that I can’t figure it out.”

The thought of some other horrific thing happening was bad enough; but the idea it might happen to Lizzy made that ache in Charlie’s chest deepen a little more. He reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You are only one woman, Lizzy. A remarkable one,” he grinned tightly, “but this isn’t all on you. We’re all here to help figure this out. And we will. Grayson will get a fair trial, I promise.”

How hard that must have been for Charlie to say. Lizzy nodded, grateful. But frustrated too. It was killing her, this feeling that she was missing something.

“You’re not going to be less hard on yourself? Are you?” Charlie questioned, wearing a smirk.

“Are you?” she threw back at him.

“My brain does not seem to be wired for taking it easy.”

“Our brains must have had the same maker,” she joked flatly. “Oh, and um, you should also be aware, Charlie, just as Charlotte made it so Grayson could not return to the Isle until the banishment curse was broken, she’s now made it so he cannot leave the Isle. He is stuck here, along with the curse.”

“She really did plan for everything. Who is this witch? I can’t believe she holds the name Howard.” He stared at Lizzy who was suddenly far away in her mind somewhere. He reached up and stroked her cheek to bring her back. “This isn’t your fault. You had every right to want your life back. You coming back did not cause this. This is all on Charlotte.”

Damn the man! For seeing right through her again. Like their brains worked on the same wavelength. Without realizing it, she’d leaned into his caress. And before her brain fired off the warning, don’t do it, her lips found his. So natural. So perfect.

Why couldn’t the past she’d let go of, stay in the past?

Charlie stiffened, but caved just as fast. The taste of her so instantly intoxicating.

His hand moved to the back of her head, raking up through her hair. The other snaked possessively around her waist and without protest, their bodies slammed together. Lizzy’s hands tensed, gripping at his shoulders in a gesture of, I have to stop. He did what she could not, and split himself away, the agony of doing so on his breath.

Lizzy looked like she was having a serious inner meltdown.

“Sorry.” He’d promised her space and was already breaking this promise.

“No, Charlie. I’m sorry. That was not a fair move at all. And totally on me.”

“Even so, I’d never give that kiss back. Not for the entire world.”

And wasn’t that the real problem because she didn’t want to either.

She shifted away from him, sucking in some Charlie free air.

This wasn’t going to be easy at all.

There was no just being her.

Or just being him.

Because it meant being in love.

There wasn’t any burying that and pretending it wasn’t there. It was the most miserable middle ground Charlie had ever been stuck in. He’d thought he could take himself out of it, for Lizzy. And to protect his own heart.

He’d been wrong.

“Already failing at this whole being us thing, aren’t we.” Like he’d just taken the words out of her mouth.

“No, the problem is, Charlie, this is us. But there is a man locked in your basement who I was supposed to marry. Who lived through unimaginable suffering, for me. And I don’t know how to,” Charlie stopped her.

“We just have to be honest with each other. As difficult as that might be.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Charlie.”

“I know. How about we take a step back, um, I guess kind of literally, maybe even a few steps, and get back to what you were saying before. About Grayson being stuck on the Isle.”

Space.

Enough neither could reach out and touch or kiss the other.

“Right. Yeah.” Lizzy followed his move. “Grayson cannot leave now. He’s stuck here, with the curse.”

“You think Charlotte wanted some final revenge on you two? Or the Isle? Or hoped he’d go on some killing spree or something?” Which he kind of had before they’d captured him.

“I can only wager a yes on that. His bloodlust is only going to increase,” she warned heavily. “His desperation for fresh human blood will make him stronger. And more dangerous. You’ll need to keep him sedated at all times. I think Charlotte wanted him to suffer, probably hoped he’d return and be so lost in the bloodlust he killed me.”

There was no holding back the growl churning in Charlie’s throat over that thought.

“At the least, I’m sure she wanted the end result of Grayson returning, to make him think he had some glimmer of hope at being cured, and then having to be killed instead anyway.”

“What a sick woman.”

“Kind of makes you wonder about reincarnation,” rattled Lizzy. Charlie cocked his head, eyeing her. “Eva... she could have been Charlotte reborn, just not a witch. But very much a bitch.”

He scowled. “They are two of a pair. I hope whatever hell they’re both in means they are suffering to the beat of an everlasting pain party.”

Lizzy grinned. Then laughed. And shook her head in complete exhaustion.

He returned it with a clipped laugh of his own.

“That actually made me feel so much better,” sighed Lizzy. “Picturing that scene. You do have a sense of humor.”

“Wasn’t meant to be funny, but it’s been known to happen. Maybe once or twice before. Remember this day though, it might not ever happen again.”

“I needed that.” She let go of some of the stress eating away at her. “Have you ever heard anywhere in your family history of witches with the power of foresight? Not like Melinda has, with death, but visions of the future?”

“No. But to be pathetically honest, William would be the one to ask. I rarely ever look into that stuff. I will though. I’ll track down the old family archives, see what I can find out. See if there happens to be anything written about this Charlotte Howard.”

“We’ve already started on that. Just thought I’d ask in case William had ever mentioned it before or something. And I don’t even think this knowledge does any good, it changes nothing really. But I guess the more we know about Charlotte, the better prepared we can be for whatever other sadistic thing she might have planned for when I break the curse.”

Charlie refused to bring up the subject of after the curse was broken, and what might happen to Grayson. That could wait for another day. Lizzy’d already had enough blows from the looks of it to last a long time.

“It’s so hard to believe we had an ancestor so revoltingly evil,” he said instead.

“Welcome to the club. Not fun, is it?”

He laughed, tightly. “No. And a strong reminder that a name really means little in the end. It’s what’s in a person’s heart and soul that matters.”

She shook her head and cursed inwardly. “You really have to stop that.”

“Sorry,” he shrugged, unclear as to what he’d done wrong.

“Being accidentally romantic and understanding as hell.” She had to fight every urge to rush over and climb all over him. Again.

“Oh, that, um...”

“Don’t apologize, Charlie. It’s like I said before. You are a hopeless romantic all the time without even trying, just by being you. And I was the one who said be ourselves.”

“I wasn’t trying to make it harder on you. But you must realize, Lizzy, I will do everything in my power to make all of this right. Whatever you decide about your future. Whatever the outcome is.”

Ugh. Seriously? Was he shooting for accidental romantic gesture of the year?

“I know you will, Charlie.” She let out a weary sigh.

“Why don’t you head home and get some rest. You look like you need it.”

She nodded. Agreeing. But added, “So do you.” 

“Didn’t sleep much on the boat, but...” he wanted to tell her all about Nina, the parts he could share, but now was not the right time. Lizzy was already overwhelmed. And shoot, it was going to be hard not telling her everything. Especially since not all of it concerned their possible future, but her new brothers as well. It didn’t feel right, holding back, keeping secrets. Even if it was for the Guardians, and Nina. “I think my head is on a little straighter.” It was all he managed to conclude about his time on the boat.

“Glad someone’s is.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Go. Rest.” There was nothing more to be said between them at this moment.

Lizzy spun around. “Lucas, you can come out of hiding and take me home now.”

With a sheepish shrug, he appeared in the doorway. Melinda wasn’t far behind. Lizzy rolled her eyes and headed for his truck. Lucas had been waiting just inside, assuming she’d still want to go home, but allowing them their privacy. He was surprised though when Charlie engaged him on his way by.

“How are the lessons going?” Lizzy had filled him in on what they’d been up to in between all the Grayson stuff. At first, Lucas thought he must be asking his sister but the wolf’s gaze was fixed on him.

“Oh, um, good, I guess. A lot of info trying to shove its way into this stubborn brain.”

Charlie let out a sharp chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine, Lucas.” Melinda shook her head at Charlie, wondering what he was up to, instantly suspect. Since when did he care about Lucas and his lessons in magic? Probably trying to rack up some points with Lizzy.

“I feel you about the information overload,” went on Charlie. “It should be against the law.” He swore if he turned right now, Lizzy was rolling her eyes at him. Although he’d been doing more research since William had left the Isle, and was about to embark on more research about Charlotte. And curses. And the like.

“Let’s hope I can keep up,” said Lucas. “Melinda is going to be hard to beat.” He tossed her a wink.

“For goodness’ sake, it’s not a competition. Bye, Lucas. Go take your sister home already.”

“Yeah. Later.”

Even odder, Charlie gave Lucas an encouraging pat on the back as he went by.

“Really trying to rack up some karma points, aren’t we?” Melinda muttered under her breath. Charlie’s wolf hearing picking up her words perfectly. 

“Oh, no. Just trying to be nice. You know. Just, because...” Crap. He was terrible at this being a good example, and leader, without telling anyone why he was. He needed to figure out how to urge Lucas in the right direction, without it being so obvious and out of character. And how was he going to ditch this sense of urgency in his veins? He had to remind himself they had many years ahead to make sure the Deane brothers lived worthy lives. And just as many years to keep the secret...

Michael met them at the front door, gave his brother a short wave and a tight smile.

“Come on inside. We’ll fill you in on everything Lizzy didn’t get to. Oh and ah, welcome home?”

Charlie lifted a brow, half-heartedly amused. “Is that a question?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Couldn’t stay on my boat forever. I’m sorry I left you guys to...” his sister stopped him.

“No apologies, Charlie. We only want to know that you’re okay. And don’t say you’re sorry for making us worry, and sticking us with witch stuff to take care of,” she bleated hotly.

He let out a clipped laugh. Melinda was becoming more like their mother every day. She used to say things like that to their father.

“I’m okay as I can be.”

She scrunched her nose. That was not the vague answer she was searching for.

He smirked. “Fine. I’m not okay. I think I am possibly as far from okay as I can be. My time on the boat was equally clarifying and confounding. But I do feel...” they let him take his time. “I’m glad to be home. And I’m ready to get back to work. Does that answer meet with your approval?”

“Yes.” She smiled stiffly, tossing Michael an apprehensive tug on her lips. “We’re glad you’re back too. We did worry about you, but we understand why you had to go. We um,” she shook herself nervously.

“Did you have a dream? Did something else happen?” He glanced between the two.

“No, nothing like that. We did some thinking of our own while you were gone.” And suddenly Melinda was nervous and thinking of chickening out, which was the exact opposite point she was hoping to make. “Charlie, you’re always going to be my big brother. And Michael’s,” she aimed her head at him. “And this means you’ll always freak out and act like a big brother, but... you don’t need to worry about me, not for the reasons you used to anyway. And that’s still not really what I’m trying to say.”

Charlie’s lips turned up in a smile. “We really are terrible at sharing, aren’t we?”

“That’s kind of the point. The sharing thing, the talking thing, we have to get better at it. And it can’t just be us, or others coming to you with problems to fix, and you handling everything because that’s what you do, or think you have to do. Or feel responsible to do,” she rambled. She hoped coherently.

“You can come to us too,” took over Michael. “You can, should, need to,” he corrected, “depend on us. It works both ways. Or at least it will from now on.”

Charlie stared at them, a bit stunned. Especially hearing this from Michael, who hated his job and being on the Isle, and Melinda, who only recently started embracing her life as a witch. This wasn’t the homecoming he expected.

“I will try,” he promised. “We’re all on new ground and I can’t promise not to fall into my old habits of taking lead, or acting the big brother.”

“I don’t expect you to. Neither does Michael,” clarified Melinda.

Michael nodded. “You are a natural for the job. We just don’t want you to think it has to be you, all the time.”

“We can share the responsibility. It can’t all be yours, Charlie. Even though you might officially be in charge, we don’t want that to be a burden only you carry. We do it as a family from now on. Does that make sense?” Melinda hoped it did.

Charlie didn’t know what came over him. Without a second thought about it he had his arms around them in an awkward family hug. Apparently it made perfect sense. A long overdue sibling chat that laid it all out on the table.

Michael sensed the change in his brother. Like some heavy weight had lifted. Like the clear knowledge that they were in this together, truly together, provided relief Charlie didn’t realize he needed.

“Okay, so awkward family talk over,” sniffled Melinda. She made her way into the kitchen. Michael and Charlie passed a silent nod between each other and followed her.

Courtney was there, keeping watch over Grayson.

“Hiya,” she called out from atop the kitchen counter where she was perched.

Charlie nodded in greeting. “You look good. How are you doing? Adjusting?”

“As long as I keep my belly full of that ever so delightful animal blood, and away from crowds with pulses, I’m just dandy as candy.”

He laughed, glad she’d stuck around. Her help had proven invaluable already. He only hoped they didn’t fail her while she adjusted to her new life as a vampire.

“We just gave her the daylight potion yesterday,” remarked Michael with a grin. And then a curt laugh at the memory.

“Oh sure, laugh at the scaredy-cat vampire. I’d like to see you step into the blazing sun with the full knowledge it’ll turn you into blisters and ashes.”

“It worked, I take it,” quipped Charlie.

“Perfectly. A little disappointing not to feel the heat from the sun, but no burny-burny is a beautiful thing,” she cracked. “And I cannot express what going back into the daylight means. I might be able to go back to work someday. I’m not ready yet,” she clarified pointedly. “But it’s a good step forward I think.”

“I’m glad. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to live an almost mirror-like life to the one you had before. Not everything can be the same, obviously, but you can reclaim a lot of it. Don’t rush yourself though, Courtney. You’re welcome here as long as it takes.”

“Thanks.”

“So, catch me up,” he told his siblings. “What else did I miss?”

They set in, graciously ignoring the biggest reason for his departure. Lizzy. He was only a man after all, no matter how hard he pretended not to be. He’d broken for a few days. It took a lot for that to happen to Charlie. And he’d been so concerned about everyone else’s wellbeing he had not taken time to mourn the loss of their father. Or that he’d had it decided in his mind, he’d have to kill William. Or just unwind from all that had happened. Period.

Which is what had gotten them talking about how things should work from now on. They were each determined they needed to make sure Charlie didn’t take on too much. And that he needed to admit when it was too much.

Charlie was grateful for his siblings taking over the last few days. Thankful to Courtney for sticking around. She was being extraordinarily understanding, even eager, to help out. He was encouraged to see his sister looking better, physically, and in a focused, energetic mood after her lessons with Lizzy. And was impressed by all Michael had accomplished on the to-do list he had not finished. And was super impressed by the alarm system he’d created around the power source in White Pines. It was meant to be temporary, but he saw no good reason it shouldn’t remain permanently.

He had to admit, these last days and weeks had been the most trying in their lives, but they were surviving, and managing, and even in all the chaos, thriving in some ways. Still broken in so many ways too, but piecing themselves back together and finding their paths forward.

And now it was time for him to do the same.

But from now on, he’d make sure to be more open with his siblings, and not take on more than he could handle.

The Mack line rang out. Clattering like doom around the Howard kitchen.

Charlie groaned. “Seriously? Didn’t we already play this game not too long ago? Me, not even thirty minutes’ home...” This is how their nightmarish summer had begun. Right before they’d first encountered Eva Jordan under the water in Bloodsucker Bay. They were the ones who’d ended up getting suckered... duped into her deranged plans.

Melinda did the duty of grabbing the line this time. “Hiya Mack, what’s-”

“There’s been an accident.” Melinda sucked in, Mack’s tone, a gruesome warning. “Get to the hospital. I’m heading there now.”

Charlie heard, so did Courtney. Michael sensed the dread.

“Who?” squeaked out Melinda.

“Lucas and Lizzy. They’re alive, but Lizzy is... blasted. Just get to the dang hospital. I’m behind the ambulance we’ll be there soon.”

Click.

The sheriff hung up.

Melinda let the phone fall.

Of all the things... her eyes lifted and met Charlie’s.

“Go.”

There was a brief moment he could not go. Not even move, or breathe.

And suddenly his legs moved without his request, running as if his life would end if he stopped.

“Lucas and Lizzy were in some kind of accident,” Melinda explained to Michael.

“How? They left not thirty minutes ago.”

Melinda did a full body shrug. “Mack said they’re alive, but,” vomit threatened to surface. Michael reached out and grasped her arm to steady her. “The way she sounded. Oh, Michael. I think something really bad happened to Lizzy.”

There was an anguished cry from the basement.

Grayson. His vampire hearing was getting better again.

The werewolf blood was getting out of his system. They almost felt bad for him, hearing this news, helpless and tied up. But recounting the innocent victims he’d killed dampened that sympathy. 

Michael had a fleeting thought of panic that it was night. Nothing like a vamp in agony over the one he loved to up the odds of escape. And Grayson would only be able to at night seeing as he was not given any daylight potion.

“When did we last dose him with werewolf blood?”

“This morning,” Courtney answered. “It was the last vial.”

“I meant to have Charlie give us more.” Melinda tossed her hands up. “What now?”

“Um, I’ll stay here,” offered Michael. “Courtney, you stay with me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Melinda, go make sure Charlie doesn’t lose his fricking mind and keep us updated on what’s happening. And if the moment arises, remind him we really need more of his blood.”

“I’ll look around,” promised Courtney. “I might have missed a vial.”

Michael grabbed a couple empty vials and handed them to his sister. She tucked them into a sweater pocket and took off. She drove the jeep, fully aware that Charlie even on foot, would beat her there.

##

A LONG TIME AGO ON an island not so far away...

Lisbeth Deane realized her mistake far too late. She’d not been careful enough and was being followed. Her head just wasn’t in it today. And she hadn’t been worried about something like being followed.

Which is the exact point her father and teachers were always trying to make: one must always be ready. Most especially when you’re not feeling like it. That’s when your guard is down. That’s when you’ll be vulnerable to attack. 

Her stalker kept to the shadows of the trees as Lisbeth lightened her step through the woods toward her crying beach. Although she no longer fled here to cry, not lately anyway.

Was there some way to manage this stalker off her trail before she reached her destination? Perhaps she ought to dive into the woods and confront this spy? But it might mean giving up her secret, one not totally hers to reveal.

Lizzy shook her head in personal chastisement over her lack of preparedness and alertness. She should have guessed someone would try to follow her; she’d been sneaking off too often lately and the others were bound to get curious. Especially since she’d so adamantly denied it was because of a man. Too adamantly. And therefore they had not believed her. But that also could have been because of the giant grin on her face as she attempted denial.

They were dying to find out what man she’d fallen for, and more so, what man had taken on the outspoken Lisbeth Deane. But who of them would dare follow like a spy? So few of the women were taught stealth, or spying. Many learned basic defensive skills so they were safer when alone on the Isle and capable of defending themselves if necessary. Required training considering all the magical creatures and supernatural beings that ventured here. Like the ones she’d dealt with months ago on the night Mathew died. But the training wasn’t nearly as in depth as what she was doing almost daily to become a fighter, and hopefully one day, a trainer or teacher.

There were many supernatural beings who were not on the side of good, and many attempting to locate the magical power source. Sadly, no one knew where it was located. Not even the Howards who were in charge of keeping the peace on the Isle. But they’d never allow evil to find it either. And it never stopped trying.

The man she was sneaking away to see, months ago, might have been considered such an enemy. Unfortunately, some might still see him as such since they didn’t know him like she did.

Regardless, her training was going well, and although her teachers were coming around and impressed with her, more often than not whenever she was called upon to assist in some way, it was inevitably for a job considered woman’s work. This frustrated her to no end, but her father insisted upon patience, and pointed out how far she’d come in the last few months. However, she’d had just about enough of spending her days making potions, harvesting herbs, or preparing for the men coming home after an all day, or all night, patrol of the Isle. All good lessons, but not the action she craved to be a part of.

Rarely was she ever allowed in the field. Even so many months into training, and proving herself over and over. When it came down to it, they had a difficult time placing her in the line of danger. Something even her father disagreed with, but again, encouraged patience, insisting her time would come.

How lucky was she? Such a great man as her father. He understood and encouraged her, but was hard on her too, for her own good. And she did her best not to disappoint. 

“Except today,” she muttered, not amused. “A mark for the fail column,” she chided herself, deciding to shake this heavy footed spy. Who would be so brazen as to get caught? Lisbeth refused to reveal her secret lover quite yet. She hadn’t even told her father and she had never held anything back from him. Ever.

In time, they’d all meet, and accept this man she was seeing in secret. But it might take convincing for some. Especially since she’d only recently convinced herself. And now that she had come to this conclusion she was determined to make others see him the same. To say she was enamored would be an understatement. 

She’d love nothing more than to go to sleep in Grayson’s arms every night, and wake there each sunrise. To spend one beautiful life together. Of course, that might have to be sleeping every day and waking each night, something she’d adjust to. Was already adjusting to seeing as he could not go out in the daylight. She believed he had it in him, but Grayson did not yet hold the same confidence. Lizzy was eager to see where this relationship would lead, just how much potential it had. If going by her heart, she was already all in, hook, line, and sinker!

However, she was wise enough to look beyond the organ drumming in her chest at the mere idea of being in his presence again. There had to be more than this for a relationship to last a lifetime than just the allure of the vampire. Physically, he was a fine specimen; a body chiseled to icy perfection, skin that glowed under the moonlight. Coal eyes that dazzled and owned her.

He wasn’t a witch, but he had the most magical of hands. Which he used to drive her to levels of insane pleasure she only ever imagined possible. Or sometimes, just fingers entwined with hers as they walked down the beaches under the cover of night. Talking. About everything. And nothing. The past, the future. He’d lived for such a long time, had seen so much of the world. He was... interesting. Learned. Confident in a way no other man she’d ever met had ever been. He taught her things she’d never have learned had she not met him, or left The Demon Isle, which she had no intention of doing. But yet sparked a fire within her to learn more. Try more. Be more.

Even picking up her speed and attempting to ditch her stalker, Lizzy’s mind wandered and she failed. It was starting to annoy her now. Both her failure, and figuring out who would be audacious enough to follow this long, and not show themselves? What was their plan exactly? To see where Lizzy was sneaking off to, and then what? Inform everyone else?

Heck! That was probably exactly what was going on.

And instantly, Lizzy guessed the name of her Stalker.

There was only one witch who deemed it her personal responsibility to keep her nose in everyone else’s business. Especially Lisbeth’s.

Charlotte Howard.

These last few months anyway. Since the night of the conflict where Mathew had died and she’d cracked under the pressure or something. She and Lisbeth ignored each other whenever possible, and even the entire village was privy to some secret conflict between them. To what end or what cause was only conjecture. Charlotte threw away anything, or anyone, who held her back and somehow, Lisbeth made that cut.

But why make the spying so obvious?

Probably to make me think it someone else.

The last thing Lisbeth needed was Charlotte, stirring up trouble. Especially of the vampire variety. What a precarious edge she was straddling. Two worlds never before combined. And possibly never to be. And if Charlotte was the one to reveal her secret lover, she might just get kicked off the island before having a chance to explain. Or prove Grayson’s trustworthiness.

Lisbeth needed to get rid of her stalker before that happened. She did not wish to use magic. It would make her look guilty of something and only one other idea came to mind.

“Grayson,” she whispered so softly no human would ever hear. But she was close enough for a vampire to hear. “I’m being followed.”

Lisbeth grinned coolly, no magic would be required. He’d understand her meaning and exactly how to... she gasped, a blur of movement swooshing her away so fast Charlotte would never see a thing.

Lisbeth would suddenly be, gone.

The trail would end with no prize at the finish.

The plan worked, but not quite like Lisbeth hoped.

She did make a clean getaway, however, back at where she’d just been standing a woman scrambled out from behind a tree trunk. It wasn’t the first time Charlotte had followed Lisbeth, but it was the first time she’d allowed herself to get caught doing so. The plan, to draw out Lisbeth’s new lover. And it had worked, splendidly.

“Vampire,” the woman confirmed in an excited rush. Here on the Isle. She’d guessed this fact, months ago, as her ex-friend had been sneaking off every night she did not have magic practice of some kind. And at last, Lisbeth’s secret was revealed. Charlotte Howard’s lips spread thin in a tight mouthed grin. This was the answer she’d been searching for. The solution to a problem she’d been researching for months. A vampire, who had his eyes set on another woman.

“Not for long,” she promised. That vampire was just the ticket she was looking for. The perfect conduit for a spell. One she’d found in an old book. An ancient book of magic long forgotten. A magic long ago forbidden, and she understood why. The bearer of such power would be unstoppable. Oh, the wicked things she’d learned. And had planned.

In time, this island, and the entire world, would know the name of the greatest and most powerful witch of all time.

Charlotte. Howard.

##

A LONG TIME AGO ON an island not so far away... continued.

Lisbeth came to an abrupt stop, her heart, blood, and breath, needing a moment to catch up with her body. You’d think she’d get used to the vampire’s swift movements by now.

The muscular arms that whisked her away carried her as if she weighed nothing, cradling her, unwilling to lose the close contact. So attentive her vampire was. So focused. So enthralling to look at. To be looked at by.

“You came back,” Grayson greeted with a luring grin.

“Of course I did.”

“It always surprises me.”

“Why? It’s been months.”

“Because I keep thinking you’re going to come to your senses and see that a vampire is no good for you.”

“But you are good. Look at how far you’ve come. No human blood in months now.”

“All for you, My Lisbeth.”

“Am I truly worth so much to you?”

“For you, I would suffer an eternity.”

He perched himself on a rock and cradled her into his cool, hardened body. Her fingers traced his jaw. He let out a low rumble of a snarl... a vampire equivalent of purring.

“I’d also be happy doing this for an eternity. A much better fate. Although still suffering.” Of the pleasurable kind.

“You needn’t suffer,” she returned, giving him a soft, enticing kiss. And then pulled away and sighed, because they did not have an eternity. A discussion they’d been having recently. Grayson would outlive her by many a moon. But she was determined to live one, good life. As a witch.

If she was turned into a vampire she’d lose that power. And she helped the Howard Witches protect The Demon Isle. It was her duty to remain human. Although it did make her sad that she’d age and Grayson would not. Would he even still want her in another twenty, thirty, or forty years when she was older? And had wrinkles. And gray, brittle hair. And wobbled on weak human legs.

“You protect the Isle from monsters like me...” Lizzy stiffened. Apparently she’d spoken some of her thoughts aloud. That or he was getting far too good at guessing. 

“You’re not a monster, Grayson Moone. Can we make this the final time we speak of it?”

“When we first met you called me a monster.”

“Because I did not know you. Or that it was possible for a vampire to control its bloodlust. Or have a conscience.” She grabbed the sides of his face, his icy skin almost making steam out of the fiery warmth of her palms. “You are good, Grayson.”

“It wasn’t long ago you would not have said such things.”

“But you’ve proven me wrong every time. And I’m fully willing to admit defeat when it’s due.” She smiled, letting go of his face planting another quick kiss on him. She leaned back a little, biting her lip. It was something she did without realizing and it was a downright contemptible form of torture because he wanted to do the nibbling himself. Instead, he caught the mischievous wave of her heart flutter followed by a twinkle in her eye.

“Lisbeth?” he growled in dark question.

She released her lip and smiled. “I’m too easy to read.”

“Only to me, now out with it. What naughty thing have you planned now?”

“I was thinking,” she let out a determined exhale. “It’s time for you to meet my father. And friends... the other witches.” Only a few were really friends. Most just people she knew, and respected, but none were close. Not like Mathew had been. And not like Grayson was.

“Is this because you were followed today? Are you worried what people will think if you’re not the one to tell them about me?”

“It’s not because of being followed. That was just Charlotte.” She waved it off, annoyed by the incident, and far more irritated that she hadn’t kept her mind out of the gutter long enough to shake Charlotte herself.

“I have to admit I’m not looking forward to meeting this witch, she sounds... most unwelcoming.”

“Well, it’s not her I’m worried about. Not that I’m worried, it’s just, I think it’s time. We can’t keep this a secret forever. It’s going to be discovered, by Charlotte, or someone else. And like it or not, the reality is that going public is a risk, but you’re the one who will suffer much more so than I.”

“I would not bet on that, Lisbeth. If we go public and this doesn’t work, you might be banished from the place you love.”

“I’m prepared for that, Grayson.”

His eyebrow lifted in skepticism. “This place is the reason you wish to remain human.”

She squirmed a little. “I do not believe it will go badly. These witches are bound to goodness and once they see it in you, they’ll have to accept you. Even crazy Charlotte and whatever stick’s gotten up her butt lately.”

“You’re asking a lot of people not so easily trusting of strangers. Especially of the fanged variety.”

“You won me over,” she smirked, then smiled.

“True. Utterly so. Your belief in me is too much. I’m not sure what I did to deserve you, Lisbeth Deane.”

“Or I you,” she replied without hesitation. “But here we are.”

Grayson’s icy blood quivered, a moment of flight response wanting to kick his legs into gear and flee the Isle. Lisbeth had much more faith in their relationship than him, at least in the eyes of other witches: ones not so acquainted with a vampire who no longer drank from humans. An oddity in his world. Or theirs. But something he’d gladly do if it meant spending even one human life with this feisty woman adorning his lap.

But these other witches were not Lisbeth. He guessed they were much more like this Charlotte Howard. Who tormented Lisbeth whenever possible.

“Grayson?” Her voice slid out like silk, bringing him back to her.

Living in the human world was not easy for his kind. For so many reasons. But God help him, he could not make himself leave this woman. Lisbeth had captured his dead heart the moment she’d popped out of nowhere in the woods with that accursed werewolf.

“I’m sorry, Lisbeth. I do want to. I am... I’m not...” so many times this woman got him all tongue tied. So unusual for his kind. So very human.

“It’s okay, take your time. Well, not too long, I want you to kiss me soon. A real kiss.”

He groaned. She was not making this easy. “I will do whatever you wish, My Lisbeth. It has been months since I’ve drank any human blood, and although I trust myself to be this close to you, I’m not certain about so many others. Especially since they will not be so easily accepting of me. My instinct is to survive,” he reminded gently. “I may have drunk only from killers, but now human blood of any kind will be so much more tempting because of my lack of it. They will fear me. It’s not in a human’s nature not to.” Except for her. The exception to everything for him.

“I would not ask you to do anything I did not think you were ready for. And you’re well aware I put duty first. I’d never take chances regarding those I love. Or innocent lives.”

“You have too much faith in me, Love.”

“Only what you deserve. And earned.” 

“If I hurt you, or someone you love, my life would be over. There is only death for me should something ever happen to you.” When it happens, he added silently. There was no life after Lisbeth. No ability to live without her on this earth. And she was adamant she didn’t want to give up her short human life as she wished to remain a witch.

Lisbeth squirmed. Considering him with as much seriousness as possible. She did not want to push the man she was falling so desperately in love with, too far. He was only a few months’ human blood free. Perhaps she was asking too much of him, too fast.

Grayson took her chin and brought it in, kissing her, gently. He’d be contented to a lifetime of this. Falling into the lull of her heartbeat. Drinking in her breath. Soaking in every press of her taunting lips.

“You kiss me with such ease now,” she whispered.

“It’s still a test. Every. Single. Kiss. Or touch. Or smell.” He sucked in her flavor. “The bloodlust is tempered but I still fear being this close to you. Before, when my belly was full of human blood and I wasn’t so... hungry. I trusted myself.”

“Are you saying you’re not satisfied with your current diet? Are you hungry all the time?” That’s not what she wanted at all.

“I am satiated, it’s not like being hungry from having no sustenance. It’s more like, I’m full, but it’s never quite as satisfying. It’s like there’s something missing. Something I need and do not have.”

“And that something is my blood,” she realized.

“Or others,” he warned. “I’m not confident about meeting your friends yet.”

Lisbeth so rarely ever heard doubt from the vampire. “Let’s think on it. And take a swim. I’m not giving up,” she promised. “Just giving in. For a few minutes.”

He grinned, a bit of his smug confidence returning.

“I see. You think you can win me over with your beguiling ways.”

“I thought you were the charming one,” she responded innocently. She wriggled out of his lap, feet dipping into the warm sand. A light blush on her cheeks, a halo-like glow around her from the silvery moonlight casting shadows downward. He always ended up like this; drunk off her. Barely a touch or a kiss... he had no way of imagining the decadence that would be her blood.

He let out a growl.

The woman had said nothing of swimming in nothing but her bare skin. Her luscious suit of silk, warmth, and life. Lisbeth was too much fire and melted his icy fortitude. She reached the ocean water and squealed when it slapped up against her thighs, so much colder than she’d expected for a hot summer night.

A growl at her back.

An imminent warning.

She inhaled sharply. She’d only meant to tease. She peeked over her shoulder, eyes widening at the hungry vampire stalking her like dinner. A moment of panic flitted visibly across her eyes. She’d done it, pushed too far.

She caught her breath, holding out her hand to stop him. “Grayson Moone, you will cease right this very oh...” she let out a gasp as he picked her up and they fell onto the sand at the water’s edge, each splash of the incoming tide a prickle of ice. He was fully clothed, sopping wet, and had her pinned to the ground with fangs and breaths that screamed, starving.

“You look like you’re going to eat me.” She attempted humor but her voice shook. His eyes lifted to hers with a deadly simper.

“Only now do you understand me. The monster. Only ever when it’s too late.”

Lisbeth sighed, understanding what this was. A reminder. In case she’d forgotten he was a predator. Not a man.

“I still trust you can do it, Grayson. I still love you. I still want you to meet my father. And the others.”

But now that Grayson was so close to her, smothering her with himself, his eyes landed on the vein pulsing hard to keep up with her heart. It drummed, each thud pulling him in closer.

Okay. She might have had it wrong. It was possible she had pushed him too far and his control had snapped. This cranked her heart even more, the hard drumming pounding into Grayson’s ears like his own personal invitation to dinner.

She called his name.

He never heard it. Hunger spiraling downward, sinking into the sound of luscious life imprisoned below him. The monster was at the edge, peaking over the side. It’s only thought... feed...

His lips traced a vein, fangs pinching at it, eyes fluttering like he tasted the red delicacy even through her skin.

“Grayson.”

He lifted his head, eyes landing on hers.

His hand lay over her heart, the beating against his palm shaking him sickeningly back to reality. What had he done? What he had almost just done?

He’d scared her. That was his intent, an innocent, planned intent.

But after...

He flew up off her disappearing into a dark shadow at the side of the beach.

A monster. Always the monster. He’d just proven his own point, to himself.

“Grayson?” Lisbeth caught him hiding in the shadow, ashamedly turned from her.

“Grayson,” she called out again.

“I need a moment.” The strain in his voice confirmed what she was thinking. He was angry with himself. He’d come too close to biting her, or losing himself to a feeding frenzy. Or possibly even willing himself into failure.

“Come closer. I want to see you.” A soft order, not up for debate. 

“No. Not like this.”

“I’ve seen it before.” She rose and slipped back into her dress.

Soft hands stroked the side of his face, luring him into calmness. 

“I frightened you, Lisbeth. I’m so sorry. I came too close just now.”

“You stopped. You controlled it.”

“Barley. I was so precariously close to failure.”

“Look at me, Grayson Moone. Come out of the shadow.” He obeyed, turning to gaze upon her. He should leave the Isle before he did lose control. Before he accidentally hurt her. Or worse, killed her because the bloodlust took over.

This was doomed to fail.

Vampires were unable to safely love humans.

No matter what his dead heart wanted to believe.

Lisbeth didn’t flinch at the sight of him. Eyes raging hungry and black. Fangs protruding against his lips... instead she got to her tiptoes and kissed him, so lovingly it made him ache from head to toe.

She backed up and sat down in the sand, patting the empty space next to her.

He joined her, painful breaths weighting his steps.

They lay back together, staring up into the night sky. Watching the stars and moon. None were, or ever would be, as beautiful as the woman lying next to him.

Leave the Isle? He could pretend that was a viable option all he wanted, and every part of him was fully aware he would fail at such an attempt.

He was in. All in. Consequences, whatever they were, no longer mattered.

“So, you want me to meet your father? And friends? And other witches?” He rolled his head against the sand to see her response. No flinch, or doubt. Just a smile. Excitement in her heart.

“It’s time, Grayson. You can do it. We can do it.”

“Whatever you want of me, My Lisbeth. I’m yours.”

A gentle kiss. Testing. Calming. Forgiving.

They pulled apart slowly.

“I think I wanted to fail,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because the idea of failing kills me. If I make it happen now, you’d have only one smart choice, and you’d leave me before I do.”

“That’s never going to happen, Grayson Moone. There is nothing on this earth that could split us apart. Nothing. And there will be no more talk of failure. Only the future. Our future.”

“Anything you want of me, Lisbeth.”

“Come home with me.”

He nodded. No fight left in him. He’d won. Somehow, this final battle within himself had been won.

In the wee early hours of the morning, Grayson carried Lisbeth all the way to her home and slipped her into bed. Then, for the first time, slid under the covers with her to sleep away the remaining hours of the night. She clung to him in such a way he’d never let go, unless she told him to. He was lost to this human. And when she awakened, he’d do anything and everything she ever asked of him.

##

CHARLIE BURST THROUGH the ER room doors with a single-minded purpose.

Find Lizzy.

Heal her.

Now.

The woman behind the nurse’s station recognized him but caught her breath at the mere size of him, which almost appeared doubled with the determined menace in his gait.

She pointed down the hall to the left. He followed the noises of controlled chaos. Dr. Walter, the same man who’d treated Melinda, was shouting ten orders all at once while he and three others rolled a woman on a stretcher into an operating room.

Lizzy.

Charlie’s vision went blotchy for a moment.

Lucas came screaming in behind them, someone trying to stop him. Mack. He had a trickle of blood running down the side of his face, but obviously was alive and relatively unharmed. At least physically. Mack was trying to make him get looked at by a doctor. He was refusing, only concerned about Lizzy. 

Charlie stormed down the hall to them, unable to speak.

Lucas caught his iron gaze, raking his hand through his hair. He broke the gaze, no comforting words to offer Charlie. He heard Mack hollering at him to stay put but Charlie ignored her, bounding into the operating room.

“Get out!” he growled at everyone readying to operate. The doctor and assistants all froze and stared. “Get out. Now.” The doctor wanted to debate the point but the steeled fortitude that was Charlie Howard warned otherwise. He ordered the nurses to leave. They opened their mouths to argue but he made to leave, ordering them to follow.

He paused while passing Charlie.

“You’ve got one minute. She doesn’t have more.”

The room emptied and Charlie wasted no time. One minute was not long, probably not long enough. And all that was holy, what if this didn’t work at all?

His hands ran across her body, unsure where to start. So much blood. Barely a breath coming out of her. Weak pulse. So still. So pale. He caressed her face, seeing the cause of much of the blood. A severe gash on the side of her head. He let his hands hover just over the wound, pleading, begging, praying for any measure of success.

“Please, Lizzy. Stay with me.”

Nothing happened.

No warm glow.

No power vibrating up inside him.

Was he not concentrating hard enough?

Was he not doing it right?

The minute flew by like a flashing second.

Dr. Walter rushed back in. “Did it work?”

“No,” Charlie grunted out.

“Now you get out. Staff!” His assistants flew back in, shoving Charlie toward the door.

Was he standing? Sitting? Falling? Breathing?

The doctor shouted a bunch of orders, his hands and voice unwavering. One of the nurses came over and gently positioned Charlie to leave. Somehow, his legs brought him back out to the waiting area. Melinda was just jogging around the corner. Lucas was in a chair, his head hanging forward, hidden by his hands.

Mack saw Charlie come out and held her breath, waiting.

“It didn’t work,” he breathed out. “Doctor’s... trying...”

Stupid gift. If he wasn’t able to use it to save those he loved, what was the point? And if it didn’t work did this mean it was her time to die? Why now? She’d just gotten her human life back a couple months ago.

Was this like his father, where she’d been living on borrowed time, and time was just now catching up? And she was out of it?

“What the heck happened?” Melinda asked, assuming Charlie’s voice and mind were stuck in stalled-out mode. She was all too familiar with that ailment. 

Mack glanced back at Lucas, who looked like he was dying a slow, painful death from the inside out. Melinda went to him and sat down, taking one of his hands just as he had when she’d been sure she was about to die just days ago (when she’d believed William was about to get a death sentence). He squeezed back like her grip gave him the strength he needed to make words come out of his throat.

“What happened?” she asked gently. Mack listened closely, having not heard the entire story yet either, the more important thing being get Lizzy help before it was too late.

“We were just minutes away from your house, driving home. We took a back road avoiding downtown. I... I forgot to tell Lizzy to put her seatbelt on. She’s still not in the habit and she was so tired. She closed her eyes, head against the window. I um, there was this man, came out of nowhere. Riding across the road on a bike. He clutched at his heart and swayed like he was going to fall and I swerved to miss him, lost control and the truck skidded. Went sideways, right into a tree. Lizzy’s side. She hit, so hard.” His voice gave out. He glanced over at Melinda, more on the tip of his tongue but he held back. Mack sensed it too. But let it slide for a moment while everyone caught their breath. And waited.

Melinda texted Michael to keep him updated.

And they waited some more.

They swore it was an eternity before Dr. Walter emerged. In reality it was a couple of hours. He dragged a seat over and plunked down, looking at them all.

“She’s alive.”

No one breathed any more relaxed, there was clearly a but, coming.

“She’s in a coma. She lost a lot of blood. We were able to close the wound and relieve the pressure on her brain. There was a lot of swelling, and fluid, which can cause brain damage. I cannot be certain right this minute, but my professional opinion is that the coma is allowing her to heal. We’ll need more time to run some tests. But her vitals are stable, with a little assistance from a breathing machine.” He held up his hand when they all threw him simultaneous stares of, she needs help breathing?

“This is not abnormal. Please don’t panic over this. Giving her the assistance allows her body to work more easily, which gives her more chances to heal. The nurses are getting her cleaned up and comfortable. We’ll move her into a private room soon. You can see her then. Okay?”

They nodded uneasily.

“Thanks, Doc.” Mack extended her hand. They shook.

“Thank you,” Charlie spoke up too.

The doc leaned in. “What were you hoping to do earlier? You’ve never tried magic before when one of you has been injured.”

“New thing I learned,” explained Charlie without going into depth. “Guess it still needs some work.”

“Whatever it was, don’t be too hard on yourself. This is a traumatic injury. It would take some sort of miracle.”

One not in the cards today, thought Charlie grimly.

The doctor left them, with a compassionate pat on the arm to Charlie.

“Okay, first order of business,” started Mack. She looked at Lucas. “I saw the doctor look you over but are you in need of additional care?”

“No. I am fine.” There was a note of personal animosity on his tongue.

Melinda grabbed his hand again. “Let’s get you cleaned up. There’s a bathroom just over there.” Lucas let her drag him over.

“Sit, Charlie.” Mack wasn’t asking. He obeyed. “I assume you’ll stay here?”

“Yes. I want to be there when they move her, in case she wakes.”

“You tried to heal her?”

He nodded. “Didn’t work this time.” Not like it had when he’d healed the sheriff when Courtney accidentally staked her while they were attempting to stop Grayson.

“That vampire still locked in your basement nice and tight?”

“Yeah. Michael and Courtney are there, just in case. But yeah.”

“Alrighty then.” She popped up. “I’m goin’ to deal with the incident report, make sure things get sorted. Looks like a terrible accident, but I have to dot the I’s and all that.”

“Thanks, Mack.” He waved a weak goodbye.

The sheriff stopped by the open bathroom door, hearing Lucas wince a little as Melinda wiped the dried blood off the side of his face. It was just a scratch. The sheriff cleared her throat, eyeing the young man.

“I realize you might want to stay here a piece, and I got to go back to the scene and finish things off there, but later tonight, don’t care how late it is, I want to see you in my office. To tell me what you held back before.”

Lucas opened his mouth to argue but Mack raised a hand.

“I wasn’t born yesterday. You ain’t tellin’ me everythin’.”

“You’re right,” he conceded. “I just...”

Mack stopped him. “Not here. Come see me later. I have my suspicions for why you held back.” Lucas stared at her wondering how she guessed his secret. “When you witches hold back, it’s always supernatural in nature.” She departed without another word.

He grimaced. She had the supernatural part right.

Melinda bit her lip, but whispered out, “It happened again? Didn’t it? You saw something? Traveled somewhere?”

He nodded. “Yeah. The man on the bike, it was the same man I’ve seen before.”

“The one who jumped off the ferry?”

“Yeah. He was riding a bike down the road and I saw him just as real as I see you right now. It was dark though, and I panicked. Even though the road never vanished, I panicked. Freaked out. I swerved, and the rest, all the way I said it.”

“Wow. I’m sorry, Lucas. I never thought for a minute your gift would be...”

“Deadly. To others. It’s my fault. If I’d just kept my eyes on the road, not freaked that all heck was about to break loose. And why couldn’t your brother heal her?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure he’s asked himself that a hundred times already.”

“I’m sure if he had any way he would. I just, if anything happens to her.” Another reason to hate being on the Isle. Magic, his gift, wasn’t getting any easier. Or more likeable. He lifted his gaze to see Charlie staring at him from across the room, who shifted away, caught.

Lucas imagined he had to be furious. Probably blamed this whole thing on him.

“You want to stick around?” Melinda asked him. “Wait for her to get moved? Maybe you need to rest.”

“Rest? No way that’s happening unless someone knocks me out.”

“To be honest, Lucas, I don’t think you’re going to rest at this point until you figure out who this man is and why you keep seeing him.”

He sighed raggedly. The meaning of it, she was right though he didn’t want her to be.

They met up with Charlie, who was up and pacing now.

“Mack needs Lucas to go to the station in a little bit and give an official statement and all that.” Melinda stroked her brother’s arm. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

“I can’t leave. Not yet.”

“I get it. I’ll go with him.”

“Be careful. And if anything changes, I’ll call,” he told both of them.

Melinda nodded, smiling gravely. The timing sucked, but the need to be honest with her brother overpowered that. They’d promised to do better, and this pertained to their job. So she filled him in on Lucas’ new gift emerging.

It made more sense as to why he was so personally conflicted over this accident now. Charlie had never seen a gift get dangerous before. Not like this anyway. If Melinda ignored a dream, that never ended well. But this was a whole new level of crazy.

Nina’s warning rang out hard. Was this the trial he’d be facing?

It wasn’t only him though. Lucas as well. Everyone really, too.

But seriously. Why Lucas? Why like this? Because of his magical inheritance?

This was the type of incident that made you hate magic and he already hated it; this would only make it worse. Is this how demons tempted? Put potential Guardians straight onto the path of turmoil? Hoping darkness would claim them? Was this accident some sick temptation meant for Lucas? To see which path he chose?

Charlie wanted to say something brilliant and worthy of remembering. Something to keep Lucas thinking of the good magic could do. But his mind was rattled and overwrought with his own disillusionment to come up with anything useful.

“I’m sorry,” was all he managed to say. 

“Why are you sorry?” Lucas returned.

“You have such bad luck with magic. It’s not normally so tragic.”

“I’m a Deane. We’re cursed.”

“No, not cursed,” insisted Charlie. “Learning, like the rest of us. It’s not an easy thing to accept, but I do believe all things happen for specific reasons. What this accident is for...” he already had his suspicions, but wasn’t permitted to share. And possibly he was wrong. Nina had acted like there was a personal trial headed directly at him. And Charlie could imagine few things more devastating than Lizzy in a coma.

“Thank you, for trying to heal her,” Lucas muttered weakly.

“I would do anything.”

Lucas nodded, clearing his throat.

“C’mon,” encouraged Melinda. “Let’s go see Mack.” She gave her brother a confident nod. He hoped she was up to this task. Worried what obstacles they might come across. Just seeing her walking away intent on helping Lucas with this magical gift got him on edge. He really did have serious control issues... well, big brother issues. Letting her venture out on her own was not easy; especially if it meant she might find herself in trouble.

“Melinda,” he called out before she’d gotten out of the waiting room. He jaunted over. “I do not want to leave here, but if anything important happens and you need me...”

“I know, Charlie.” She cast him a gaze that insisted she was ready to handle this. “I won’t do anything rash. Or stupid. Promise.”

“Okay. Be careful. Both of you.”

They left him to pace the waiting room until he could see Lizzy. The first thing he was going to try was to heal her, again. And he’d keep trying until it worked. 

##

“SO WHAT REALLY HAPPENED?” Mack leaned back in her office chair, staring down Lucas. He wasn’t sure how to explain it all, he’d never done such a thing before. Melinda got it started for him though.

“Lucas is developing a magical gift.”

“Oh, are ya now?”

“And he’s super thrilled about it,” ribbed Melinda, attempting to cheer him up.

He rolled his eyes. He and Melinda took turns explaining first, the gift, followed by all he’d seen regarding the ferry-jumping man.

Mack listened, closely, to every detail.

When they finished she lifted an eyebrow at Lucas.

“You realize your driver’s license is suspended. Indefinitely. Until this new gift of yours is workin’ properly, and provin’ no longer a danger to anyone.”

He went to hand over his license.

She chuckled. “Not in an official capacity. Just don’t drive until you’re certain it’s safe to do so.”

“Not a problem,” Lucas retorted. “Had already planned on that anyway.”

Mack tapped a finger on her chin. “I recall the case, early 1950’s, but blankin’ on the name of the guy. Give me some time though, I’ll see what I can dig up in the old case files. If you find out a name send it to me. It’ll make the search go a thousand times faster.”

“Oh, wait. Duh!” Melinda dug out her phone. “Google search.”

“Would not have thought of that.” Mack was about as inept at internet searches as William.

It took Melinda just a few minutes to trace the story. And a name.

Levi Johnston.

Only thirty-one when he jumped overboard, and killed himself after finding out he had an untreatable heart condition that would claim his life in weeks, maybe days.

“Okay then. I’ll find the old case files. Come see me in the morning.” Mack bade them goodnight just as her desk phone rang. She grimaced, although with a blush in her cheeks, and ignored the call.

An act Melinda had never seen the sheriff do before. Ever.

It went to voicemail, and this being The Demon Isle, it wasn’t digital messaging. They still used the old style, everyone in the room can hear it, answering machine. Mack remembered this too late as a familiar voice taunted the line.

“Oh, you do like a good game of cat and mouse, don’t you, Kitten.” Nethaniel Dante. Courtney Jessup’s old boss was literally purring into the phone. Mack gritted her teeth and attempted to hang up the line and stop the stupid recorder.

Melinda had never seen the sheriff so flustered.

“You promised me dinner, Kitten,” small gasp from Melinda and her mouth fell open in shock. “I will track you down sheriff. It is an island after all,” Nethaniel continued. A string of obscenities and disparaging remarks slung out of Mack’s mouth until she found the phone cord and yanked it out of the wall.

“There! Maybe he’ll get the message. I only said yes,” she aimed at Melinda, “to get the man to leave me alone. But did that work? Nooooo...” her tirade trailed off into a low grumble.

Melinda struggled to keep her grin to herself and not laugh. Hard.

“Oh, it is so not funny,” Mack refuted sharply at the amused expression on Melinda’s face.

Lucas cleared this throat.

The sheriff looked up to see him pointing to the doorway.

“Oh good grief!” Mack jumped to her feet.

Nethaniel had just strolled through the front door. Cell phone coming down from his ear. A wide, toothy grin and ogling eyes all aimed at Mack.

“And I think this is our cue to leave,” Melinda muttered in amused chatter. Lucas didn’t need to be told twice as Mack accosted the man.

“Now look here, Mr. Dante.”

“I am looking,” he purred.

“You are the most...” nothing came out. Mack. Tongue tied. For possibly the first time ever. Red faced and hot headed and... and... and this was possibly the most hilarious thing Melinda had ever witnessed.

“Oh calm yourself now, dear sheriff.” Nethaniel tossed her a playful wink. “While I’m always delighted to lay my eyes all over you,” he blathered, his gaze doing just that. “I am also here on official business.”

“Official business?” she returned, uncharacteristically befuddled.

“My missing employee. The reporter. Courtney Jessup.” He might have been visiting for official reasons but he was having far too much fun messing with Mack.

“Right. Courtney.” Mack eyed the two witches attempting to sneak out. The humor was gone. There wasn’t much Mack could tell the guy other than the investigation was ongoing. They couldn’t exactly tell him she’d been turned into a vampire.

“Well, have a seat, Mr. Dante,” Mack was saying as they booked it to the front door. “As long as you can behave yourself,” she added hotly.

“Oh, I am behaving, Kitten. You haven’t seen my naughty side yet.”

Melinda and Lucas escaped, fast. A fit of laughter busting out of them.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Mack so utterly mortified,” snorted Melinda. “I can’t even say why, but I think he’s kind of perfect for her.”

“Don’t know her enough to make that call but it was rather funny.”

“She should be allowed a little love in her life. Heck, someone should. Doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to be a Howard.” Even though they all thought it their own personal responsibility to carry on the Howard bloodline, thanks to William and his baby-making machine responsibility talk a while back. It wasn’t something that was going to happen anytime soon from the looks of things.

The love train of thought so instantly got her downhearted. Her sigh, visible.

“Still hurts that much?” asked Lucas.

“More like a hurt that’s constant. Buried a little deeper but always there. I keep thinking it’ll get better. Or go away. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and stop loving both men,” she caught herself, gaze ashamedly fixed on Lucas.

She’d never come out and said she loved both Riley and William before. She’d always affirmed Riley was the winner. At least in front of his brother.

“I’m not stupid,” Lucas replied with a wry grin. “I wasn’t sure, at first, but when William was sentenced to death... kind of hard not to see how much you care for him.”

“Can we not talk about it?” she moaned wearily. “It’s been nice not having it on my brain every single waking moment. I even slept good last night for the first time in days.”

“Yeah, no worries. No need to talk about the love subject.” It was impossible not to block out the bitter inflection and she wanted to press him about it, but she’d just asked not to talk about it. Melinda hid her curiosity poorly though and Lucas caught it too late that he’d given something away.

“So, um, back to the mansion?” he rushed to change the topic. “Getting late.”

“Yeah. Need to check in with Michael.”

They made their way there, in silence, each step a little heavier. No matter how hard they might try, there was no pretending their problems away. They kept creeping up; a constant buzz kill. Even a humorous moment, like what just happened to Mack, which normally would have had them laughing for hours, did not stick around long enough to drown out the inevitable return of problems without solutions.

It was killing Melinda to keep her mouth shut and ignore whatever silent frustration was going on in Lucas’ mind. If he wanted to share, he would, she reminded herself.

Once home, Melinda and Lucas’ attempts to catch up were incessantly interrupted by werewolf-blood-drunken shouts from the basement.

“To say Grayson is irritable would be an understatement,” groaned Michael.

“He wants to see Lizzy.” Courtney shrugged, it wasn’t her place to say what happened, but she didn’t figure there was a way to let that happen.

“That can’t happen,” confirmed Melinda. “No matter how bad we might feel for the guy. I mean vampire. Lizzy’s ex.” She smirked. “I’m not sure what to call the guy. First name seems too personal.”

“Murderer comes to mind,” reminded Michael a touch harshly.

“Which is why he’s not going to see her and remain safely locked up,” his sister stated. “Still, can’t help but feel for him, a little. I mean, he meant something to Lizzy... once... a long time ago.” Another anguished moan from the basement. Melinda wasn’t so sure he didn’t still mean something to Lizzy but she tried not to think about that, for Charlie’s sake. Whether he was with them in the room or not.

“Oh, by the way,” Courtney slid off the counter. “Did you get some more werewolf blood? I lucked out and found another vial, but we had to give it to him when he got all riled up after the accident. I swear it’s wearing off faster with him being all pissy and moody.”

“Crap. In all the chaos, I forgot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Melinda. We can wait until morning at this point.” Michael had administered the last dose himself. He’d gotten every last drop into the vampire’s mouth thanks to Courtney.

“So now what?” asked Lucas.

“I guess we’re kind of in a holding pattern.” Melinda had no idea what to do, other than try to sleep, which was so not going to happen. At least last night she’d gotten a few good solid hours of restful shuteye.

Lucas made to leave. “I’m going to go home, put on some non-bloodied clothes, and head back to the hospital, check in on Lizzy. There’s no way I’m going to sleep. At the least, I can take a shift to relieve Charlie. Give him a bit of a rest.”

Melinda huffed. “Charlie? Rest? Never going to happen.”

“I’ll be there, just the same. Night, everyone.”

“I guess we’ll take shifts watching out for Mr. Irritable,” assumed Michael.

“Yay,” Melinda twittered. “Another long night of Demon Isle fun. Howard Witch style.”

Michael’s mouth turned up in an impish smile. “I’ll get the cauldron.”

Melinda rolled her eyes. “And I’ll make another pot of coffee. Or ten.”

“I’ll take mine red, hot, and fresh,” cracked Courtney.

Michael shook his head letting out a low chuckle. “We truly are the lamest.”

He grabbed a blood pack and tossed it to the vampire. She was doing great, adjusting to her new life. All came down to attitude and determination, he guessed; she embraced it, not like she had any other choice. She wrinkled her nose at the cold pack and poured the blood into a mug, sliding it into the microwave.

“Warm’s just better, dang it. Tricks my mind that I’m waking up, even if I don’t sleep anymore. Kind of like that first sip of a hot coffee in the morning used to do; lulled me into thinking I was awake and ready to face the day. I never drank caffeine,” she explained. “Decaf only please!”

“That’s almost blasphemous,” returned Michael. “Coffee without caffeine?”

Melinda laughed. “I’d add more if I could. Although some days it does give me the jitters something wicked.”

“I’m high strung enough. Add caffeine to the mix and I’d be crawling out of my own skin. Shakes. Heart racing. Doing rash things in a panic come out of nowhere. Well, it did anyway. Not anymore I guess. You don’t get panic attacks as a vampire, do you?”

“I don’t imagine you have to worry about that,” Michael replied. “Although William always warned us that vampires do feel emotions deeply. So much so that if we were to experience them as he did, as a human, we’d probably have a mental breakdown.”

“I can see that. I think everything about this new vampire body I’m living in can be summed up as, amped up. Original me, only amplified.”

BOOM.

POP.

SPLATTER.

GASP.

GASP.

GASP. 

Michael, Melinda, and Courtney stood with fixed poses and mouths hung open in disgust.

“Oops,” sputtered Courtney. She’d set the wrong time on the microwave and the mug exploded, the door popping open and...

“How the heck is there so much blood in one freaking mug?” Michael grumbled. They and the kitchen were painted in red streaks.

“Sorry,” croaked Courtney. “On, I think, a positive note, seeing you guys covered in blood doesn’t even look remotely appetizing.”

“That is good,” chirped Melinda.

“Vampires...” quipped Michael with a headshake. “None of you can figure out how to work a dang microwave. Even the one who was born in this century.”

Melinda bit her lip to hold back a laugh. And then gave up when Michael doubled over, unable to keep it in. Courtney’s eyes darted between the siblings, wondering if they’d finally snapped. Her clumsy goof the final straw that broke them.

“How many times is this now, Michael?” Melinda questioned, catching her breath. 

“I believe this makes nine.” He sucked in, the laughter releasing a ridiculous amount of stress off his heavy heart. “Thanks, Courtney, I needed that.”

“Um, you’re welcome?”

It was almost like William was still present. It wasn’t him. Courtney was fun to have around but she wasn’t their vampire. He’d never be so easily replaced. And was missed something fierce.

“You got it worse than me Sis, why don’t you go clean up. I’ll start down here.”

“Yeah, Okay.” It was the second laugh release that day, and this time, it made her sleepy as she came down. “You know what, I might try to grab a few hours of sleep since I’m heading up. I’ll come take second shift if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, do that. No use in all of us being up at once,” Michael agreed.

“I can have the kitchen back in order in a flash anyway,” reminded Courtney.

“You kind of get a kick out of being super-fast, don’t you?” teased Michael lightly.

She shrugged playfully. “I kind of do.”

Melinda left them to it and took off to her bedroom, still smiling. One look in the mirror and she let out a clipped wail of displeasure. How the heck was there so much blood in one coffee mug?

“Too bad William wasn’t here. I’d let him lick me clean...” How many times was she going to do this to herself? Was it impossible to filter her own thoughts and keep them where they belonged? Locked away with all the other crap she couldn’t do anything about. William was never going to happen. She had to scrub that idea out of her brain. Somehow...

She’d gotten the pain lowered to a low, constant ache. It might never get better than that. And she had reached a very low level of acceptance of what could, and could not be. Try as she might though, her heart refused to give up, completely.

Regardless of the impossibility of them, she wanted him home. Where he belonged, which was here on the Isle. No matter how difficult it might be to live under the same roof and not love each other. Especially since she’d end up in a relationship with some man, at some point in time.

It was bound to happen. Wasn’t it?

Another round of unbearable hurt for someone, most likely William. Because it would mean she’d moved on. This relationship might even end up being Riley if he ever showed his face again. She was not against that idea. A second chance, or a do over felt in order. They’d barely had a first chance.

How was it possible to love two men, so very much, at the same time? Still...

She stared back at herself, eyes glossy. A warm ache in her chest.

She’d fully forgiven her motorcycle man and had moved on to missing him terribly. Perhaps the distance made it easier to forget all he’d said, and done. When the day came he returned, and they were face to face, would she feel the same?

“Might never find out.” Unless he came home. She wondered if there was any way to reach out to him. He might not want to listen to Lizzy or Lucas, but he’d listen to her, wouldn’t he? And come home if she asked him to?

In the end, like so many things, she had needed time to work through the maelstrom, and be able to get her feet on even ground again. To be able to step back from the experience and look at it through different eyes. Ones that were not filled with fear and regret and pain, but ones that needed to learn, accept, and move forward.

Her crazy dreams and incessant thoughts had allowed her to do that; these last few nights her dreams hadn’t been nearly as wild or chaotic. And awesomely so, absent of anything tragic and prophetic.

Talking everything out with Charlie had helped a lot. Even some with Lizzy these last few days. She’d not bothered Michael, he had enough on his plate freaking out over Emily. Regardless of it all though, it all came back to the same problem for her: she still loved both men. It did not matter how they felt, or what they wanted in return.

Perhaps the only choice was to deny her love for both.

Because either way things ended up, someone was getting hurt.

And although she’d be happily loving one of them, she’d be losing the other, for good.

“Useless worries that’ll get me nowhere,” Melinda let out with a groan.

She showered and tossed the bloodied clothes into the hamper, assuming there was too much blood to salvage them, but she’d try anyway. She hopped into bed where sleep eluded her. Her mind a cesspool of thoughts weighing her down. The summer heat giving no cooling comfort, even with the window open. It was a breezeless night.

“Darn stupid brain,” she grumbled, sitting up in a huff.

Her head slanted sideways, eyes pinned to her window. A raspy breath-like noise filtered inside.

“What on earth?”

A second later she was up and tiptoeing over to have a look.

“Oh my God, Finn! What are you doing way up here?”

He was curled up, taking up the space on the roof below her windowsill. His big oval head lifted, lips widening in she swore, a smile. He picked himself up and nudged his head into the window where she leaned in and gave his forehead a soft kiss.

“Silly gargoyle. Rooftops are not safe places for naps.”

He whimpered in return, like he was trying to reply to her. She cocked her head.

Protect. It was the only thing she sensed from him.  He was trying to protect her. Something he wasn’t supposed to do according to all she’d learned about gargoyles.

In a rumbling movement his feet were on the sill, his body soaking up the space. Melinda jumped back as he deftly bounded inside, quietly so considering his bulk, and proceeded to curl up on the floor at the foot of her bed. No sleeping though, he was on full alert.

“You’re not supposed to be an indoor pet,” she chided. Although there was no contempt in her words, only delight. And he was not supposed to be a pet at all. There was no denying his presence was comforting. It gave her a sense of serenity. Her addled brain, sliding into a peaceful space, ready for sleep.

She gave a yawn and patted him on the head.

“Good night, Finn. Don’t get yourself in trouble or anything with the other gargoyles, or whatever.” Was that even possible? She needed to learn more about this creature keeping guard at the foot of her bed. She gave a clipped chuckle. That’s what he was doing, guarding her. She had a guard gargoyle. And she liked that idea. It was her last thought as she laid her head on her pillow and drifted off to sleep.

##

JEAN TOOK IN WILLIAM during brunch, in fleeting vampire flashes no human would ever notice. He was avoiding her glances just as fleetingly. Annie was preoccupied with Riley on the other side of the table, laughing over some topic Jean had not paid attention to. She noted the subtle shifts in William’s jaw, and the hardened muscles of his face. He had something on his mind; had since he’d arrived in Sorcier. But these inflections told her he was finally ready to speak of them.

William gave in, catching her stare so ever briefly; it was all there, written in the white of his eyes. Buried in the emerald. Some agonizing secret he intended on sharing. But only with her. Not Annie. Or Riley. Or anyone else.

If she’d had a beating heart it would have skipped a little in despair. Whatever this was, it was eating him alive, little by little. Sending a silent warning she might not wish to find out...

“Annie, Riley, would you clean the table?” Jean asked, but it wasn’t really an option to say no.

“Of course,” replied Annie.

“Yeah, not a problem,” Riley added. “We’ll head to the pub after.” It would be time to open in a couple hours.

“Actually, Riley, not today. Rather, not for the next week,” stated William.

Annie’s smile dropped, lips pressed together in a gloomy sort of sympathy.

“We’ve reached that time,” Jean reckoned. How unpleasant it would be for the vampire. And still not the secret they needed to speak of.

“What’s going on?” asked Riley in thick apprehension.

“I’ll show you in an hour. First, Jean, I fancy a stroll before it begins. Would you join me?”

“I’d be pleased to, William. The fresh air will do you good.”

Riley held his tongue but seriously wanted to know what was up. Why he suddenly would not be working at the pub, and why all the vague secrecy. Annie nudged his shoulder as Jean and William departed.

“It’s nothing to worry about. Really.”

“Easy for you to say,” Riley grumbled in reply. “Don’t suppose you can fill me in?”

She shook her head in a meaningful shake. “Sorry. William will want to explain it himself. That way you can’t chicken out.”

“What?” he choked out.

“I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“So not funny,” he scolded.

“You’ll be fine. Really. Now help me clean up.”

He did so, wondering what the vampire had in store for him now.

##

JEAN ALLOWED THEM TO walk in tense silence for a time, to let William gather his thoughts. Although she guessed he’d already penned the words in his mind a while ago and got the sense he was searching for the courage to speak them and make them real. Another wary sign of an impending gloomy conversation.

The streets of Sorcier were bustling. Everyone who saw William, and knew him, was sure to shout out a greeting. He obliged, though with a flatness he didn’t normally have.

Jean stopped him.

He refused to hook onto her brittle gaze.

“I realize you are aware I am hiding something from you. I will speak of it, but not here. Not on the street.”

“Confirmation I didn’t need old friend.” Her mouth lifted only slightly amused, her gaze softening some. “Suffering... it surrounds you.”

He refused to answer or catch her eye.

Jean continued. “You wished to speak, but not at home. Not where Annie, or Riley, or anyone else might overhear,” she surmised.

He nodded stiffly. 

Jean’s hardened vampire frame emptied of breath, leaving her insides empty. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good, and now she just wanted it over with.

“Annie looks good,” he changed the subject as they continued their stroll. 

“Yes. If possible, more beautiful every day. But she is getting restless again. I can see it in her eyes. This simple life isn’t meant for her. Not for one forever young and vibrant as she. But I fear what will happen if she ever chooses to leave for good.”

“She’s always loved this place. Considered it home,” said William.

“Because it’s safe. And she’s smart enough to understand the value in that, as well as avoiding the dangers and temptations that lurk in the outside world.”

“I may have a solution,” William spoke evenly. He stopped and opened the door to an empty storefront, the business closed. He motioned for Jean to go inside.

Once in and assured they were alone, Jean asked, “What’s this solution of yours?”

“I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“Now you’ve seriously got me worried old friend.”

“It’s not my intent.”

“What is going on, William? I understand why you brought Riley here. He’s a good young man, a little lost. But this... this is nothing at all to do with him.”

William paced for a moment, a flicker of distraction and emotion making him falter.

“I am signing over the house to you, Jean. As well as all of Sorcier that’s still within my control.”

“Why?”

“You live here. I do not. You take care of these people now. Not me. It should be yours. You’ll find the paperwork in my old study. Already taken care of, all you need to do is sign.”

“Why?” she repeated, her tone almost a snarl.

“I... I do not plan on returning to Sorcier, again.” His gaze fixed upon hers, the truth digging into her, stabbing back like a dagger.

“You mean to die.” Not a question. And not a flicker of remorse, or doubt from him. His sureness inflamed her iced veins, but he held steadfast.

“I am tired, Jean. In a way I have never been before.”

“And by tired, you mean lonely.”

He gave her a half-hearted shrug. “To me, they are one and the same.”

“Why not return here then? If life on the Isle is leaving you in such a state.”

“It would be no different here, Jean. I was not meant to live so long. I was not meant to live so long, alone.”

“Then don’t be alone,” her snarl clipped. “Find someone. Let yourself be happy.”

“I did find someone. The someone. The only someone. And I cannot have her.”

“A human?” Jean was already well aware he’d never turn another human. His regret over Annie plagued him still, after all these years.

“Yes.”

“One of the Howards,” she assumed.

“Yes.”

Which would mean the young woman, Melinda.

“You loved Angelina once, William.”

He groaned.

“You survived after losing her. It wasn’t easy, but why is this time any different?”

“Because I started to believe I could have her, that I deserved her.” And this can never be, and I do not, he left off. “She’s not a prize I can claim for some unearned worth.”

Jean paced, nervous energy making her fidgety.

“Does Melinda return your love?”

A flinch from the vampire upon hearing her name. And no chance of denying it was Melinda, his reaction telling.

“She believes she does. She also loves another. Melinda is young, and once she sees the world for what it really is and what she’d be giving up, she will not choose me.”

“You will not permit her to choose you.” Jean swung around to leave but twisted around again, fangs lowered. Pissed would do little justice for the venom in her pose. “Would you not turn a human if they loved you in return? If they chose it? If they chose you?” She did not allow him to respond. “Annie was a mistake you made as a young vampire learning to control your hunger. This would not be the same.”

“How is it not the same?” he spat out. “Even if Melinda begged me, how do I make her fully understand what living in this form does to someone? How watching those you love grow old and die, over, and over, and over, while you remain unchanged, kills a little more of your humanity every year. I cannot ask this of any human. It would be selfish. It would take two lifetimes for them to comprehend what forever stuck, means. What never moving forward in life means. To discover the reality is not the same as the fantasy.”

“Perhaps, but she would not be alone. And neither would you. You’d have each other and that changes things.”

Jean had seen this self-deprecating behavior before. It was similar to a mid-life crisis or deep depression in humans. Especially for vampires who’d been around as long as she or William. Who lived the compassionate lifestyle where humans were equals, not food. Vampires who loved, and loved, and loved, until it broke them. Turned on them. Becoming something devoid of the humanity they strived for, which if permitted to fester, made them into the very monsters they feared to be.

It sent many a decent vampire sinking into the very pits of darkness they struggled to stay out of. Forever lost to the depths. These were the true monsters. The hunters. The creatures feared on lonely streets at night. Those with any sanity left, did as William was prepared to do now. End it. Before the bitterness overtook what was left of their souls and the monster surfaced with merciless anarchy.

William’s humanity and compassion is what first drew Jean to William and Annie all those years ago. Watching him interact with her, like a stern doting father of a newborn. Which Annie was, just not in the human infant sense. And he was aged more a brother than father, when comparing their human years.

Sadly, though, when a vampire entered into this acerbic spiral, they were often unable to pull themselves out again. It ended up swallowing them whole. Consuming them. Jean shook her head, nothing more to say at the moment about the subject. She’d need to think on it. Figure out some way of making her friend see the value in life again.

“So what of Annie?” she changed the subject.

“I would like her to return with me, to The Demon Isle. When I do go back.”

“So you are going back?”

“Yes. I have not decided exactly when, but yes. And in another human lifespan of years, I do not plan on continuing.”

“When your human dies, when Melinda dies,” she restated, “this is when you plan on dying too?”

“Yes.” A short, determined answer.

Jean got quiet. At least she had a few short human years to figure out some way to lift her friend out of this morose state.

“The Isle would be good for Annie,” William offered. “It’s not as simple a life as Sorcier, but she is safe around humans. And she’d get rid of that restlessness that can be so dangerous to our kind.”

“And you would look out for her of course?”

“Naturally. I think a change of scene would be good for her.”

Jean eyed him as if to say, take your own advice.

He ignored the topic.

“I believe you mean to train Annie to take your place on the Isle. Don’t you?”

He sighed. There was no hiding anything from Jean.

“Perhaps. I would not force the choice on her.”

“She would do anything you asked of her.”

“Which is why I will never ask. If she goes, and wishes to stay, it only seems natural she’d take up my position after I’m gone.”

“After you take your own life,” Jean corrected.

“Annie is brilliant.” Again, refusing to reenter the subject of his own demise. “She’s kind. And has maintained the youth I was never capable of holding onto.”

“Have you thought about what your choice will do to Annie? Or me?” Jean wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. “Or those humans you claim to love so much? Is Melinda aware of your intentions?”

“It matters not. The fact is I cannot go on in this world once the human I love is no longer breathing. I would become a useless shell. My life would no longer serve any purpose.” He didn’t feel so very far from a shell already. “Whether her death happens next week, or in sixty years, the thought of it alone has already broken me. The act of it will be my undoing.”

“Do you have no hope of surviving this?”

“No. Because unlike Angelina, I let it in. I let the love in... and believed.”

And now he was denying it. A sure way to fall, for a vampire.

The sincerity of his words pinched at the heart no longer alive in Jean’s chest.

“Let us not speak more on this now. If Annie wants to go with you, she’s free to, of course. I think it would do her some good, even if I don’t agree with the long term assessment of your life.”

William refused to look at his old friend. They did not hide things from each other, but admitting this agony aloud was painful in a way that left him weak. Not just physically. Somewhere in the depths of him, it slowly sucked out whatever life force still existed inside him.

“It’s always been your biggest downfall,” Jean scolded as she went to leave him. “You’ve never once believed yourself worthy of anything but being alone. And now you have started to believe, and you’re giving up. And making that dreary belief come true.”

He spun around, eyes seething at her in the doorway. “I will not take another life to satiate my own,” he snarled at her. “And I will love no other.”

“If you won’t choose to accept that love, then you are truly lost.”

“I am choosing love. I have always chosen love.”

“Just not for yourself.”

“I am choosing to let Melinda live her life as it should be.”

“As you say it should be.”

“My choice is made.”

“Maybe so, but I’ll not say goodbye, just yet...” Jean left him. Sped away to the pub, and clearer space. Annie would tell something was bothering her; she’d need to gather herself before getting there so as not to worry her.

William stared at a blank space on the wall for he wasn’t sure how long.

These were thoughts and decisions he’d kept to himself until now.

He had no intentions of telling anyone else but Jean, and she’d begrudgingly and regretfully, keep his secret.

Sleep.

Rest.

He wished so deeply for respite, of any kind. Just a few precious hours of mindless nothing. For everything to turn off.

An impossibility. And no point in lingering in the wish.

His eyes fluttered closed, a groan rumbling in his throat.

Now that this terrible conversation was over he had to return home and take care of another unsavory task.

He meandered his way back home, taking his time. Once there, he called out for Riley, motioning for the young man to follow him. He did so, silently, nerves on high alert according to the erratic heartbeats the vampire was picking up.

William proceeded down a long stone set of stairs, Riley not far behind. Even with their far too honest conversation the day before, the young man wasn’t so sure he wasn’t being led to some form of punishment to be doled out by the vampire.

At the bottom of the stairs was a basement, finished, but not your normal basement where you might find stored foods, or laundry, or boxes of forgotten belongings. It was a series of stone and iron cells. An old prison? Riley’s new permanent residence? Another flicker of panic, which William brushed off.

“When I first created this place, we had need of these,” the vampire explained. “I had them built to my specifications. When we had new arrivals in Sorcier, there was a required vetting process before they were permitted to join the colony.”

“They’re similar to the one you use in the Howard Mansion,” gulped out Riley. He didn’t want to recall the memories of his time in the vampire’s room there. He’d been tied up in that room, and attempted to defile Melinda just to piss off the vampire. Another memory he wished to scrub out of his brain. “I don’t suppose this job you have for me requires me to drink beer. Or tequila? You know, like, a lot of it,” he chattered glumly.

William saw a familiar misery in the young man’s eyes he knew was also in his own. Riley needed something to numb the pain, dull the images, suck away the thoughts.

“I’m afraid you would not enjoy the beverage of choice,” William retorted in dry flatness. He stopped outside the last cell on the right hand side. It was sparse compared to the one he had on The Demon Isle. The basic comforts were there. A bath, some books, a sofa. It was created for extended stays, but not too comfortable. Outside the cell though, for some reason, was a fridge.

William opened it and Riley’s stomach rolled.

Blood. A ton of it.

Maybe William was planning on turning Riley into a vampire so he couldn’t have Melinda either. And he’d lock him in this cell and feed him blood, and...

“I can’t imagine what insane thoughts are crowding your brain right now, Riley. I can almost see your mind trying to work this out. Whatever you’re thinking, you’ll be wrong. This isn’t any sort of punishment, well, you might not see it that way in a few days,” he argued his own statement. And he actually let out a sigh. Actually sounded tired.

Riley’s face pinched inward, some pieces falling into place. “This isn’t anything for me, this is for you.”

“Yes. I have not detoxed as you’d put it. And I cannot wait a day more. The cold human blood is no longer enough to sustain the thirst, and I cannot allow myself to have the fresh-from-the-vein kind or, well, things will get ugly fast. The kind of ugly in which I end up at the pointy end of a wooden stake.”

Sooner than later, this was inevitable anyway. Funny, how he was so sure of his outcome, but also sure it was not to be this day. Or week. Even though it would mean a lifetime of suffering as he loved Melinda from afar, and she moved on from him. He needed to wait until she was leaving this world, to leave it too.

“This is because of all the human blood you had to drink because of what I did to you, isn’t it?” Riley’s voice got tight.

“Yes.” His one-word explanation was simple fact only, not accusatory in any way. “Let’s forget you are the reason why, Riley, and agree now, that you’ll take on the job of helping me dry out. I cannot leave Sorcier until I do.” 

Riley took a breath and nodded. How could he say no? He was responsible for the vampire’s bloodthirsty state, he needed to fix it. Although he had a terrible feeling he was getting the easy part of the job.

“This is really going to suck, isn’t it?”

William shot him a gaze that warned, you have no possible idea...

“So when do you want to do this?” asked Riley.

“Now. We start now. You will lock me in this cell for seven days.”

“Wow. That long?”

“Yes. It must be this long to ensure it works properly. If you look in the fridge, you’ll see each box has a number to correspond with each of the seven days. You must follow this feeding schedule to its exactness.”

“Okay.”

“No deviations. No matter what happens, inside, or outside this cell.”

Riley swallowed a dry pocket of stale air.

William pointed to the cell next to his. “That will be your room for the next week. Once you lock me in, you’ll have two hours to kill until it’s time for my next blood pack. You can move whatever belongings you need to be comfortable. I might suggest some headphones.”

“Headphones?” Dread followed that word.

“After the first day, there will be yelling. Snarling. Growling. Obscenities. Wall punching. A general vampiric tantrum of epic proportions.”

“Um, okay.” The words, are you sure I’m right for this were about to come out of his mouth...

“Riley, I will be like any junky trying to come down off a drug addiction. You must promise me, right here and now, I do not care if the world is ending, you will not let me out of this cell until after the seventh day. Until after I’ve gone through all the blood in that fridge.”

He nodded, as confidently as his freaked out mind allowed.

“Yeah. Okay. Got it. I got it.” He swallowed hard. “What’s in the potion bottles?” There were three in the fridge alongside the blood. Although their consistency looked eerily similar.

“Werewolf blood, should I become, uncontrollable. Or attempt escape.”

“Aren’t’ these cells secure?”

“Yes. But never underestimate the strength and thirst of a starving vampire.”

“Point noted.”

The way William spoke, he was already starving.

“Do not hesitate to use the werewolf blood, Riley. Because if I escape and you hesitate, it’s your neck I’ll be sinking my fangs into first.”

“Right...” and didn’t that suck all remaining air from his lungs.

William stepped into the cell. “I will apologize in advance,” he stated as Riley shut him in.

“Why? I did this to you.”

“Exactly.” The vampire’s stare went wild, and dark. “Most of my anger will be aimed at you.”

“Guess I’ll be getting a dose of my own medicine,” muttered Riley.

“If you hated me before,” seethed William, “you will loath me once this is done. Now lock the door. And hand me the first blood pack.”

So Riley did.

If suffering alongside the vampire somehow cleaned his slate, and earned the forgiveness everyone kept insisting there was no need to ask for, he’d do it. He’d take every last shot the vampire threw at him, just as the vampire had been forced to do by him.

And thus began seven days of hell...

##

LIZZY’S BODY REFUSED to obey a single command.

What was going on?

Where was she?

Why could she not see anything but darkness? Or move? Or blink? Or even breathe correctly? Whose voices were around her?

Panic blasted through her mind, and only her mind because everything else refused to work right.

Panicking isn’t going to do you any good, she screamed at herself.

But I can’t move.

I can’t open my eyes.

Charlie... it was his voice she was hearing.

Talking to who? A man, a familiar voice but she could not place it.

Why were her eyes refusing to open? She needed to see what was happening.

What is that beeping?

It all slammed back into her mind at once. She and Lucas had been driving home and she’d dozed off. The next thing she remembered was waking up just as his truck crashed into a tree. And then... now. Waking up in darkness. With a body refusing to work right.

Logic told her she must be at the hospital.

That’s what the beeping was. Some machine in the hospital. And Charlie was talking to the doctor. Dr. Walter was his name. Okay, see, don’t panic. This can’t last long. They probably had to sedate me, and I’ve not fully awakened yet.

However, words meant nothing. Actions did.

Minutes passed. She assumed. And then a few more. The minutes beginning to feel like hours. How long did it take to wake up after being knocked out? How long before something worked other than her thoughts?

Not only my thoughts, I can hear too. And thank God for that, because if I couldn’t hear I think I’d already have lost my mind. Ha... it’s about the only thing you can lose right now. Better pray you keep that!

The sick humor was lost the minute she begged her body to move, in any manner.

Not one thing obeyed her.

Please, not this. Not this again. Anything but this.

Imprisoned inside a body that wasn’t working properly. Hadn’t she done this already?

Lizzy screamed in her mind for her mouth to move, to call for Charlie.

Not a movement or sound. Vocal chords in some permanent resting state. Except there was a sensation in her throat. No, further down. Her lungs. Air being pumped in and out.

Oh my God, I’m not even breathing on my own. Just how bad had the accident been?

A trembling hand slipped into her own. Soft lips kissed her palm.

Charlie...

Lizzy focused on the fact that she could think, hear, and feel. This was better than nothing and must mean she’d wake up from this nightmare soon. If she didn’t get herself into a panic that gave her a heart attack first, that is.

“Lizzy? Can you hear me?” Charlie spoke to her, the desperation for a response, telling of the grim situation. “Can you hear me, Lizzy?” He stroked her arm in a loving caress.

She tried with every fiber in her being to respond in any manner.

A movement.

A twitch.

A blink.

A groan.

Anything! To tell him she was awake in here.

But only silent screams came out.

How the heck was it possible for her physical body to completely shut down, and her mind to remain on, and working? Thoughts and conscious the only things working correctly.

Perhaps in a sick way it was better she could not see Charlie talking to her. Adding the sight to the sound might be more than she could handle. To see the hopelessness etched in those eyes staring back at her.

Because that’s all she heard in his words. And that’s exactly what she was.

Helpless. Hopeless. Stuck. A prisoner once again.

Was this her lot in life? Had the time since freeing herself from her ghastly prison been borrowed time? Was she not meant to live her human life?

“Lizzy, I’m so sorry,” Charlie stammered. “I tried to heal you. It didn’t work. And now the doctor says you’re in a coma. Please come back to me. Please wake up.”

Lizzy Deane did not hear his plea to wake up. Her thoughts didn’t make it past coma...

She’d exchanged one prison for another.

From a ghastly form in which she had some freedom, albeit little, to imprisoned inside her real body, the only thing free now, her mind.

A nightmare come to life.

A nightmare returned.

She might as well have died and gone to hell.

This was it for her. Her own personal version of hell.

Was she doomed to forever be a prisoner?

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Whatever was making that sound was speeding up.  

A door swished open, footsteps shuffled around her bed.

“What’s happening?” demanded Charlie. No response. “Dr. Walter? Please...”

“Um, nothing. Nothing at all.” Clearly a lie. The doctor pretended to look over some charts.

“You would not run in here if it was nothing.”

The doctor sighed. He peered down at Lizzy and shook his head dejectedly.

“I’m sorry, Lizzy.” He moved his gaze to Charlie. “This is the hardest thing any doctor can ever tell someone, other than,” Charlie cut him off.

“Please don’t tell me she’s dying...” an unfair request.

“You might change your mind.”

“What could possibly be worse than dying?” But the worse hammered at Charlie like a thick iron nail stabbing into his heart. He bounded up from his chair, gaze fixed on Lizzy in horror. Please don’t let this be true. “Are you... sure?”

Dr. Walter nodded. “I’m sorry. This chart indicates the right kind of brain activity. Lizzy is awake.”

“Why won’t her body work then?”

“Coma’s can be complex, Charlie. I will not lie or sugarcoat. We need to run more tests.” He turned back to Lizzy. “Be sure, Lizzy, we will do all we can to fix this. And we won’t do anything that causes you additional pain, or discomfort.” He grabbed her other hand and squeezed lightly, letting it go and leaving the room to prepare more tests. 

Charlie leaned over her and gently kissed her cheek. “You will not be alone. You will never be alone. I promise. I promise.” He stroked her cheek, repeating his promise a few more times.

This was an outcome a thousand times worse than death for anyone. But for Lizzy, this was a nightmare come to life. Charlie blew out a tormented breath. How was he going to tell everyone else? How was he going to handle this without going mad? Jesus! How was she?

He attempted calm, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Least of all the woman imprisoned on the hospital bed.

“Lizzy. I need you to stay strong. Try not to panic.” Even though it’s what he was doing. “I don’t care what the doctor says, or finds out, I will fix this. Any way I can. And I will not leave you alone for a single moment. You will not go through this alone.”

He slid back into his chair by her bedside, sure to keep her hand in his. Constant contact of some form, he thought. Either touch, or voice. He’d talk to her so she knew she was not alone.  

She had to be going insane. How could she not be?

He stroked her arm, kissed her palm, searching desperately for any response.

Nothing.

“This is your worst nightmare,” Charlie stated the abhorrent truth. And he needed to end the nightmare, now, before it went on a minute longer. But how?

There was one way... and without a second thought to reason, or consequences, a growl pushed through his teeth and he was on his feet leaning over her, teeth pinching into the delicate skin of her shoulder. And just as instantly he tore them away before he drew blood, or released any werewolf venom into her body.

He backed away, disgusted by what he’d just done.

“Oh, God, Lizzy. I’m so sorry.” He’d gone into a complete panic and out of sheer need to heal her, had almost bitten her. Or had the ring stopped him? He wasn’t even sure and it didn’t matter. He’d stopped, that was all that mattered at the moment.

Charlie rubbed her shoulder gently, apologizing over and over. He found his seat again, a defeated breath falling out of his mouth. “I almost bit you. I’m so sorry, Lizzy. I panicked. You deserve the truth, and I won’t be anything but honest with you. You deserve the truth.”

He imagined, terrifyingly so, his panic was only making hers worse.

He needed to help, not freak her out even more. Charlie sucked in a few calming breaths, trying to get past this panic and initial horror of what was happening. He needed to stay strong and calm, for Lizzy. This was all about her, and what she needed.

“I was really hoping you were asleep. Dreaming. Nice dreams. If there was any magic I could use to undo this, I’d break a hundred rules, Lizzy. But I swear to you, I will not do anything that forces you into a life you do not want. I will not force my will, or wants, on you. I almost bit you and I’m so sorry. I almost took away your choice.”

This was it, dreaded Charlie.

This was the trial Nina had been compelled to warn him of.

If he’d thought everything he’d gone through in his life to date was difficult in some way, it was nothing. Now, it was nothing. This was the new measure of terror. And temptation. One bite would save her and heal her... it would also turn her into a werewolf for the rest of her life. A choice there was no going back on.

With the understanding that the woman he loved was lying on this hospital bed living out her worst nightmare, a true living hell, Charlie concluded there was no greater evil in existence he would ever face.

Lizzy wished she could respond in any way.

His voice soothed her panic, even though he was clearly losing his mind and had no clue how to handle this situation.

She wasn’t sure who had it worse.

The woman with no options. And no say. And no working anything, but her mind.

Or the man sitting at her bedside with all the options, and no idea the right thing to do, for her?

Another harsh reality was breaking through her tiny little world of darkness.

If there was no medical way to fix her, or no magical way, this left only two options: let Charlie bite her, or let Grayson bite her.

Either way, werewolf or vampire, she’d be healed from this nightmare but her life, forever altered, and one of the men she loved would be broken and left behind. She’d literally be poisonous to whichever man she did not choose. There would be no changing her mind or realizing she’d made a terrible mistake... this choice was for keeps.

How long did she have it in her, to wait?

How did she decide it had been long enough?

How did she even share her choice with anyone?

What if death came for her before she had the chance to speak again? There were suddenly so many things she wanted to say and no way to do so. 

And what if fate dealt her the devastating blow of being a living corpse lying in a hospital bed? What then? Because that was not a future she was prepared to accept.

Werewolf?

Or vampire?

Two options. Two entirely different futures.

She imagined being at hell’s door, not that she was far away, and pictured herself with only seconds to determine her future. Who did she choose? Which life did she want?

Did she remain with Grayson, her past, and a possible forever future, and the vampire she once thought of as her one true love? A man who’d suffered so tremendously for her.

Or grab onto a future with Charlie? A werewolf who’d stolen her heart so fully, almost overnight. And could give her the one life she’d always wanted, as a witch, a teacher, and possibly even a mother.

Grayson Moone, or Charlie Howard?