From the Ashes (Witches of The Demon Isle Book 8) (28 page)

Grayson closed his eyes longing for her touch. Growling out in approval.

It didn’t come. His eyes flew open and darkened.

She had dropped her hand and taken a step back. His temporary enthrallment over her, lifting.

“Lizzy,” rumbled Charlie. Every tormented question gathered on his tongue went into her name. She spun around to look at him, hearing each one but unable to answer. Her silent words now stated,
I’m not sure who I am at this moment.
She looked pulled apart, torn in two. Stretched between two worlds. In shock.

Grayson closed the space between he and Lizzy, hands snaking around her chest pulling her against him. Her breath hitched. Heart pounding hard. For so many reasons she feared she might pass out trying to think of them all. Her gaze lowered, ashamed and unable to lock into Charlie’s.

He was focused on the vampire.

“Release her.” His voice remained calm, but firm.

Grayson ignored Charlie. 

“We have much to discuss, my darling Lisbeth. Thanks to that little snitch of a witch, Charlotte Howard.”

Charlie opened his mouth to demand Lizzy’s release again, at the same time wondering who Charlotte was and what she’d done, when too many things happened all at once, stopping him cold.

Courtney healed, awakened, grabbed her wooden stake, and threw it at Grayson. It should have been a direct hit. Straight to his heart, a few inches above Lizzy’s shoulder.

In simultaneous response, Lizzy shouted in a warning that should have been too late, but Grayson already heard the whistle in the air as the wooden death missile launched, and ducked out of the way. The stake flung through where he’d been standing and straight into Mack’s chest.

The world turned to winter. Everything frozen. Lifeless. Breathless.

Her crossbow plummeted to the ground.

Air sucked out of her lungs. Legs faltering. Body slumping downward.  

Michael reached out for her, falling to the ground with her. Unable to hold her dead weight. No, not dead. She couldn’t be dead. Not Mack.

In movements that felt weighted and sluggish, Charlie bounded over with a shout on his lips.

Courtney stared in total horror at what she’d done.

It was a sure shot.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

She fell to her knees certain she’d just murdered an innocent.

All eyes on Mack, none of them saw Grayson vanish.

Summer arrived back with a chaotic fervor.

Winter melting into mist, and fog, and blood. So much blood.

They needed an ambulance, fast.

My God! Lizzy…

Charlie’s head flicked to where she’d been standing, imprisoned in Grayson Moone’s icy grasp.

Gone.

He’d taken her.

“Go after her,” Mack blubbered.

Charlie ground his teeth together.

Michael disagreed. “You can’t rush in. Remember about planning. Doing things smart.”

Charlie’s gaze hardened.

Courtney shuffled over, hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. What can I do?” Her eyes darkened at the sight of the blood pouring out of Mack. “Oh, God.” A wave of hunger hit her like a semi-truck.

“Leave. Now.” Charlie ordered, vial of werewolf blood ready to subdue her if the blood craving was too much.

Courtney vanished in a half-blink.

Mack gasped. Michael fumbled to dial for an ambulance on his phone.

Charlie calmed himself.

Whatever was going on, this vampire wasn’t going to hurt Lizzy.

This idea alone frightened him to death.

Because the meaning behind it wasn’t one he wanted to hear or accept. It was also not his sibling’s fight. He’d handle it. No planning, or waiting. If what he thought was happening, truly was… holy crap the idea crushed him.

Save Mack. We have to save Mack. Then I’ll go find Lizzy. Save Mack…

Muscles uncoiled themselves. He would be rushing in, but he’d be clear headed when he did.

There was a gasp from Michael.

“Charlie. Look.”

He did. His hands… they were doing that same glow thing they’d done when he’d saved Emily. How? How was this happening again?

It didn’t matter right now. He eyed Mack. “Sorry, this first parts going to really hurt.”

She nodded, gripping Michael’s arms tight.

Charlie gripped the stake, it had to come out before he could heal the wound. He yanked quickly and evenly, only a single gush of pain from Mack, and it was out, lying on the ground painted in red. He brought his glowing hands over the wound, they hovered there, healing. Sealing her up.

It didn’t remove the bloodstains, but a minute later, the gaping hole had sealed itself. Like it never happened. Her skin perfectly fixed. No wound. The only remnants, drying blood atop her skin and a punctured uniform.

Perhaps, in the near future, it was time for full body armor. She caught her breath with a
what the Demon Isle
just happened to me rolling off her tongue.

Michael and Charlie helped her sit up and then to her feet, letting her body regain its balance. She looked down at herself, astonished. Hands running down her chest.

“I know you told me you’d done that but
holy I almost died
!”

“Charlie,” called out Michael, unwilling to waste another minute. “I can see it in your eyes. Let’s regroup. Plan. Do this together. It’s Lizzy and you love her, and you might have the ring but…”

Charlie held up his hand to stop him.

“I think I know what’s going on. Not all of it. Whoever this Grayson is, he isn’t going to hurt Lizzy. I am…” he struggled to say it. “If I had to bet, I’d put my money on long lost dead fiancé.”

“Um, what?” Michael’s voice stalled out.

“Lizzy’s a nice girl,” argued Mack, shaking her head in a manner meant to say no way she’d be caught dead with that thing. That monster. That murderer.

“It doesn’t make sense,” conceded Charlie. “And my task has not changed. Protect the Isle.” He sighed, his entire body deflating a little. “I have a feeling there’s more to the story than what meets the eye. And I need to find out the truth. Don’t follow me.”

He tore into the night, Lizzy’s scent striking his path.

CHAPTER 21

Lizzy came to an air-stealing stop, landing in total darkness. The icy grip speeding her across the island breaking away, detaching himself from her body.

A burst of flame. And then another. And another. And another. Torches lighting against walls of stone and dirt.

She clutched her sides, having hoped never to step foot inside this unholy cavern again. The place where her life had been altered so permanently. When the witch, Charlotte Howard, had cursed her out of her body. Hoping to claim Grayson as her own, and in return, he’d give her the immortal life she so desperately was after.

Which hadn’t happened.

Because Grayson was so lost after losing Lizzy, he’d killed himself.

So she thought and believed so firmly all these years.

Cool breath behind her. Close enough to chill her neck.

Her body moved smoothly, her eyes soaking in every inch of his face. One she’d never believed she’d see again. Feel again. Kiss again.

Oh my God.
Her thoughts consumed her ability to speak.
Charlie…
she’d all but married herself to him. Grayson’s sudden reappearance a stilling divorce she wasn’t prepared for.

But my God, what a sight before her. The man… the vampire… she’d promised to marry so many years ago.

“I cannot believe it.” Lizzy’s palms came to rest on his cheeks. The need to feel him against her skin and prove him real. There was a long stretch of silence, filled only with breathy inhales and exhales.

Grayson’s eyes closed, the act of feeling her hands upon his skin like heaven on earth. A moment he’d waited so many long years for. Here at last.

Lizzy’s hands dropped.

Her feet taking her back a few steps.

Questions… so many. Where to start.

“Grayson. How are you here?”

“I was cursed. Like you, my Lisbeth.”

His use of that term melted over her. Splayed her insides sending a quake down her center. She missed that voice. Those lips. Those coal gray eyes that knocked her knickers off… she didn’t wear those any longer.

The moment of pleasant memory lapsed. Reality taking hold.

She stepped further back.

“You’ve been killing people.”

“Not by choice. I swear it to you.”

“Then why? Explain to me now, because there is a death sentence on your head.”

He approached like a lion stalking his prey. “I will tell you everything. Please believe me when I say these acts are not by my choice. My
death
was not by my choice. And my resurrection hurt like bloody hell.” It came out as a snarl mixed with a warning.
I suffered, for you. Now I’m back, and you’re mine…

Lizzy was powerless to stop him. Not just because of his strength or speed. Because of that same magical power he’d always had over her. His arms wrapped around her, mouth smashing into her pouty lips.

Lost.

Falling.

Into a pit of confusion.

Memories of their time together pressured to the surface. Her first encounter with him. Taming him. Teaching him. Changing him from bloodsucking monster to a gentleman she loved. Didn’t she? Hadn’t she? Was this memory correct?

Embellished and romanticized perhaps, through the distance of time.

Wasn’t it only earlier that afternoon she’d begun to question her feelings for Grayson, wondering if they’d been misplaced.

But it hadn’t mattered. Not really. Because he was dead. And she’d moved on.

How did she tell her supposedly dead fiancé she was dating a werewolf?

And what was she going to tell Charlie?

Her heart was torn in two, each man clinging to their half of it.

She needed time to process.

He let out a throaty snarl, releasing her lips from his divine mouth prison.

“I’d prefer to continue, but we have company. Don’t worry now, my Lisbeth. I’ll get that werewolf’s stench off you soon enough.”

Lizzy inhaled with a gasping choke. Her eyes falling on a shape towering just inside the entrance to the cavern.

If he’d had any doubts, he didn’t now.

She pushed her way out of Grayson’s arms.

“Charlie…” it was barely a whisper and filled with anguish.

“Oh come now, Lisbeth. He’ll get over it. We are engaged after all.”

Those words burned at Charlie’s eardrums. “You said he died.” He ignored the vampire, silver fixed to her in a hardened stare.

“I thought he did.”

“Surprise,” Grayson sang smugly.

Charlie didn’t give two shakes about the vampire and his attitude. He’d deal with him after he dealt with Lizzy. Right now, his temper raged at her.

“You were engaged to a vampire? A murderer?”

She shook her head in denial. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

“What was it like exactly?” he gritted through his teeth.

“Charlie, please.” Tears reached her eyes, the reality sinking in, hitting hard.

“Easy wolf,” Grayson reasoned flatly. “That’s my fiancé,” Charlie cringed at the word, “you’re insulting.”

Charlie staggered under the weight of it all. How had he deemed Lizzy the perfect woman for him? So strong. And sure, and calming. And smart. And engaged to a goddamned vampire. Who was still alive.

“I was going to tell you about it, Charlie. It wasn’t a secret. It just hadn’t come up in conversation yet.”

Charlie had opened himself up, made himself vulnerable, setting himself up for instant defeat. Lizzy had a past he knew so little of. He’d rushed in, head first. Wrong head, he chastised himself… and not correct either. It had been heart first. If he’d used his head, his actual brain, he’d have gone slower. Overthinking didn’t look so bad now. Hadn’t he already learned this lesson? Rushing into anything never worked out.

“Enough of this,” Grayson clamored. Fangs dropped. A hiss purling through his lips. “She’s mine, wolf.” He planted his coal stare on Lizzy. “You’re mine, Lisbeth Deane. You always have been. And you’re the only one who can break this curse on me.” He snarled at Charlie, taking on a primal stance. A fighting stance.

Winner takes all… prize being Lizzy.

“Stop this, please.” She got between them.

“Oh but why, dearest Lisbeth? That Charlotte messed me up nice and nasty.”

“Tell me about the curse,” said Lizzy as calmly as possible.

“Not here. Not with him. You have to come with me.”

Charlie projected a no-way-in-hell growl. His anger at Lizzy dissolving into the mist. So help him God, it hurt, more than any injury he’d ever suffered, to know Lizzy loved this
thing.
Still loved this thing.

Regardless, he wanted her. Needed her. Was crazy head over heels in love with her. And he sure as heck wasn’t allowing this monster to lay another finger on her. Or chance Grayson might hurt her, even by accident.

The vampire came up behind Lizzy in a dash.

“Let. Her. Go.” Charlie crouched to lunge.

Lizzy stuck in the middle of a testosterone-crazed battle.

She the prize.

Grayson her past.

Charlie her future.

Both tugging on her like a rope beginning to fray. But which side the winner?

Grayson was faster. He grinned wildly, wrapping his arms possessively around her tiny frame. Charlie gnashed his teeth, Lizzy could tell mere seconds from letting the wolf scream free. One or both of them would die. They were deadly to each other. Ring on his finger or not, she feared what might happen to Charlie. And to Grayson.

Time. She needed time. Some way to push pause.

Air sucked out of Lizzy’s lungs. Grayson and she a streak of movement. Not quite fast enough. Charlie guessed the move and the vampire stopped before crashing into the muscled fortress that was the wolf’s body.

Charlie wasn’t fully transformed, but just about. A weak human essence still lingered. Control on the verge of breaking him. His will almost overpowering the ring in pure need to protect Lizzy.

Grayson shoved her to the ground out of the way.

“Say goodbye to your werewolf, Lisbeth,” he hissed. “I do feel for you wolf. But she’s mine.” He lunged. Charlie leaped… out of Grayson’s path. Charlie now an impenetrable wall between Lizzy and the vampire. The exit to the cavern right behind the vamp.

“I suggest you leave. Or I will kill you.” Charlie’s snarl was deadly. His body raging with pulsing muscles just looking for an excuse to workout.

An arm tearing out of nowhere.

A gasp.

A crank.

A snap.

Grayson’s head flung to the side, broken. Eyes bulging. Body sliding down. The ground its new home.

Lizzy fell to her knees. “Oh, Jesus.”

Courtney Jessup’s arms hung in the air, a stone cold pose of death.

“Take that you sick prick!”

There was a rush of something surging through her dead veins. Satisfaction. Adrenaline. The act an instant high, something she was surprised at, thinking only blood could get a vampire high. But this wasn’t like a sugar buzz, or a caffeine kick… this was power. Control. Authority. Domination.

All things that suddenly made her high plummet down into the depths of the earth.

These things were not her.

What was happening to her?

Oh, right.

Vampire…

Wow. This could be some trouble.

The wolf receded. By his own power, or the ring, Charlie had no idea. He hadn’t fully transformed, keeping some tiny measure of control. His clothes were stretched and torn, falling off him a little. His breaths ragged and temper cooling in a slow few seconds that dragged on forever.

Lizzy crawled over to Grayson. She whispered his name, her voice a tidal wave of confused longing that cut Charlie from head to toe. How many times could he stitch himself back together before the seams refused to repair anymore?

He didn’t look at the vampire who’d heal and wake again too soon. Lizzy met his pained stare with one of equal torture. The questions with no answers chilling their bones.

Charlie sucked in and got back to business. He grabbed his phone and dialed.

“Courtney, keep the werewolf blood and stake handy, just in case.”

Lizzy said nothing.

Courtney nodded, her agreement less enthusiastic as it might have been a few minutes ago. Charlie dialed Mack. Explained where they were, sifting through details, asking her to get a car here so they could take Grayson to the mansion.

“We’ll lock him in William’s cell for the night,” he told the sheriff. “We need a little time to… sort things out.”

A wave of nausea passed through Lizzy. He was doing this for her. Otherwise, Grayson would be dead. She fumbled to her feet, grabbing onto the stone alter a few feet away. Where her first life had ended, her second life had begun. A second life she’d promised to live to the fullest. So many things she wanted, that she had not in her previous life.

Exactly where did Grayson fit in?

Did he fit in?

Didn’t she owe him, for loving her enough to take his own life after she’d died. If he’d been cursed, like her, and wasn’t responsible for his actions, and could be freed and return to the way he was living while with her before… when they’d gotten engaged… Lizzy blew out a long, exhausted sigh. She thought she’d had it all figured out. Boy had she been knocked down a few pegs.

Mack would have preferred swifter action, but there was clearly more going on here than she understood. So she agreed with Charlie’s plan and told him she’d get the police car there as quick as possible. With a side warning of she’d need some kind of decisive action, soon.

The cavern got quiet. Tense. Cold. Unspoken anguish getting stuck in the misty air seeping inside. All things Courtney hated more than anything, but she kept her post, and announced when the police car pulled up outside.

Before lugging Grayson out to the car, Charlie forced a vial of the werewolf blood down the vampire’s throat to make sure he stayed weak if his broken neck healed during the drive home. They piled Grayson into the backseat of the police cruiser.

Michael hopped in the front seat with Mack, leaving room for Lizzy. Courtney told them she’d meet them and screamed off toward the mansion at vampire speed. She’d beat them all.

Lizzy stalled from getting into the car.

Now, of all times, she wished she could be speechless. Not have to talk. So much, and so nothing, to say.

“You coming?” she asked Charlie in a weak attempt at engaging him.

“No.”

Such a short swift telling answer.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t come up with anything else to say right now. I can’t answer why he’s alive, or why he’s like this now. He was a good man when I knew him. Not so unlike William… at least in that he didn’t drink from humans.”