From the Ashes (Witches of The Demon Isle Book 8) (3 page)

She’d been in and out of consciousness for three days since the battle had ended. Since her father had died. Since the Feyk and Eva Jordan had attacked them, and tortured William… since Riley had been cursed by the rage spell and done all those despicable things. Not unforgivable, but not easily forgettable.

Her breaths came out heavy. It was too much.

She didn’t want it to be. But it was, and her brother knew it.

And now William was leaving, or had already. She bit the sides of her cheeks to keep the tears and panic inside.

“Melinda, it will be all right. It does not feel like it right now…” There was so much distress in her brother’s voice. Weighted, like lead, almost like it was too heavy and took great effort to speak.

She laid back down and rolled over, afraid to look into Charlie’s eyes; afraid to see the fear, sadness, and worry or disappointment. She stared through the window at the backside of the room. The night sky was a little lighter. Dawn was coming soon.

William…

Please don’t leave… please…

I can pretend nothing happened.

Pretend we’re the same as we used to be.

Just stay…

She pleaded over and over in her mind, praying he might hear her, and stay. Or explain why he was leaving, and most importantly, when he’d return. He could not have meant forever. That thought stole her breath and she chewed on her lips to keep the whimper from escaping.

There was a light rapping at the door. Charlie tore his gaze away from Melinda to see Mack standing there.

“Hi,” he greeted weakly.

She gave him a short nod and motioned for him to come into the hallway.

He did, but Melinda still heard them talking. Another hushed conversation. There had been more than one over the last few days.

“How are ya?” asked the sheriff.

Charlie took a few seconds to answer. “Um, Melinda’s healing, at least physically, and Michael is with Emily. He won’t leave her side. I haven’t actually seen William yet.”

“I meant you.”

“Oh. Um… I don’t have an answer for that.”

“Well my advice is to find one, Charlie. You can’t just look out for everyone else. You have to take care of yourself, too.”

“Yeah, you know. After…”

“After what? Life calms down? If that ever happens, you let me know.
Meanin’, it don’t, Charlie.
There might be a calm before the next storm but it never lasts long.” There was a hint in her tone that sent dread through him.

“What do you mean, Mack? Has something happened?” The very thought of having to take care of any supernatural business was almost more than he could handle. He was working alone at the moment, exhausted beyond measure.

She huffed, inquisitively. “You say you haven’t seen William?”

“No. He hasn’t been by the hospital, and I’ve only been home once and he wasn’t there. I expected he’d be locked in his cell getting the bloodlust out of him, but he wasn’t.”

Melinda turned over, listening to the conversation taking place inches outside her door.

“Does it worry you at all? That you haven’t seen him, and he hasn’t been here? That he was not locked up. Isn’t that odd for the vampire?” Mack went on.

“William usually manages himself fine, and I guess, under normal circumstances it might be odd for him not to make an appearance, but he went through hell, Mack. Literal hell. We almost lost him.”

“All the things that have me worried,” the sheriff revealed dismally.

“Mack, what’s going on?” Charlie didn’t have the strength to deal with the job, but it appeared it was refusing to give him a break.

“Found a body on the beach about three in the mornin’. Tourist.”

“What does that have to do with William?”

“It was a very
bloody
scene. But there was no blood left
inside
the body.”

Charlie stared blankly.

Melinda sat up.
William would never…

“William is under control, Mack. Has been for a few hundred years,” Charlie defended. “Long before he even came to live on the Isle from what my father told me.”

“But like you said, he went through hell. Almost died. Drank an insane amount of human blood to kill Eva Jordan, and then to heal after; he
was
enraged and uncontrolled at that point. You know I’d prefer not to question this, but it’s my job to.”

“Mack…” Charlie had nothing left. Nothing to say or argue.

She reached out and patted his shoulder. “Just felt I outta tell ya. I haven’t damned him yet either, and God knows I don’t want to. But there were puncture wounds, Charlie. The kind only a vampire would leave behind. I swore my deputy to secrecy… poor kid. Gettin’ a massive dose of reality the last few days, but it was bound to happen. Anyway, find William so we can rule him out. Okay?”

“Yeah. I will, Mack. It’s
not
him.”

She nodded, praying he was correct, and left.

Charlie ambled back inside Melinda’s room.

“It wasn’t William,” she stated softly.

She could see it in his gaze. He didn’t want it to be either, but there was a seed of doubt.

“It wasn’t William,” Melinda repeated. “I’m sure of this because…” she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Because he left the Isle. That’s why you haven’t seen him.”

Charlie looked at her with a perplexed frown.

“William told me he had to leave.”

“Okay… let’s pretend for a minute he did leave. Why would he? He’s never left in all the years I’ve known him.” He recounted his father mentioning William leaving once, back before he was born. So that was a long time ago seeing as Charlie was a few months from twenty-seven.

“I’m not sure. He wouldn’t say. Only told me he had to leave. He didn’t say where he was going, or for how long.”

“Why did he tell you, and no one else? And how? He hasn’t even been here.”

“Um…” God. She was going to have to do this.

This is why William had told only her. To force her to admit everything to her brothers. She sat up slow and swung her legs around so she was sitting up again. She patted the mattress in a silent request for Charlie to sit next to her.

“What’s going on, Melinda?”

“A lot.” She shook nervously. “I’m not even sure where to start, Charlie. But whatever happened on the beach last night, it was not William.”

“And you know this how?” He tried to clip the impatience level in his voice.

“Because, he came to me while I was sleeping. We talked. In my mind.” She cast a side-glance in her brother’s direction. It was the look she expected. Incredulous. Concerned. But also, knowing…

He got off the bed and paced the room.

“I have no desire to hear
everything,
Melinda. Just, what I need to.”

Her heart sank a little. Her nerves fluttering. Her brother knew. Not all of it, but enough. Somehow he’d figured out she loved William, the off limit vampire.

“Um, well…” she stalled, fidgeting on the bed.

“Melinda, I’m sorry,” Charlie blurted out. “I’m not good with this stuff.”

She released a timid laugh. “Neither am I. I think it runs in the family.”

He pulled his chair over to the bed and sat down to face her, giving her his full attention. 

“I’m sorry you had me, and not Mom. Or Dad.”

“It’s not so bad.”

He lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. She shrugged.

“You spent four years hiding inside a house filled with men. Emily came along, but I always hoped Mom had taught you enough before she died. I am uncomfortable talking about the serious stuff.”

“No one wants to talk about the serious stuff, Charlie. You did the best you could, you know. You didn’t exactly have it easy after Mom and Dad went away, and I only made it more difficult.” She shook her head and freed a flood of anxious breath. She needed to tell him everything before she chickened out. “I guess I should start by telling you about my dream.”

“The one you just had, talking to William. Or dreaming with William? I guess I’m confused about how that works. How do you communicate with your minds?”

“William said it takes an
intimate
connection…” her brother’s face cringed at that word, so she rephrased. “It’s like the two of us having a real conversation, inside a dream that we’re both awake and present for.” It was the best way she could describe it. “But I’m not talking about this one, from just now. I’m talking about my prophetic dream about the Feyk, and Riley…” she whispered, adding hesitantly, “And me and William…”

Charlie leaned back a little. “You didn’t tell us everything, did you?” he surmised.

She gave her head a meek shake.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” he spoke, far too graciously.

“Maybe not. But I’m never doing it again. Ever. I was afraid to tell everyone the truth and because of that, William suffered, so very despicably. I can’t even explain what he went through, Charlie. And even more so because…” She stopped, not ready to admit it all.

“It’s okay, just say it,” he encouraged.

Melinda raked her bottom lip with her teeth, getting up the courage to explain.

“I’m not mad,” her brother told her. “And I’m not judging.”

“You will be,” she declared certainly.

He squirmed, clenching his jaw.

“I was bait. Meant to capture William. Eva and Stricker used his feelings for me to set a trap. Riley knew. Knows. That’s what sparked the jealous rage all aimed at William. He saw him as a threat. As competition.”

Charlie had pieced that much together.

But anyone using his sister as bait was unacceptable, and his wolf agreed, a growl stirring in his gut.
Remember, we promised not to get mad or be judgmental.
The wolf cooled a little.

Melinda continued.

“When Eva first captured William, he was helpless. They hung a bucket of werewolf blood over my head, I didn’t know until too late.”

“A bucket? Where the heck… son of a bitch. The dead werewolf, right? The one I thought was the alpha?”

“Yeah. That’s the one. They drained it and used the blood to capture William. When he arrived to save me like they assumed he would, they dumped it all over both of us. It paralyzed him. In seconds. I didn’t stay covered in the blood long, Riley dumped some icy creek water over me, hence the freezing cold I couldn’t ditch until yesterday.”

Charlie’s clenched jaw started to grind.

Not getting mad. Not mad at Melinda anyway.
She was doing her best to explain but the struggle was obvious in her tone.

“William lost all control over his body. He couldn’t even blink properly.” Melinda’s arm went nervously up to her neck, sifting up through her hair. “Eva told him he would suffer for killing her father and mother, and that she’d only let Riley stop torturing him once he begged for death.” Melinda ignored the growl gritting through her brother’s teeth. “But there was another condition. An even sicker one than just your run of the mill torture threat.” She held her stomach as if she might get sick, but took a breath and said, “If William begged for release, which Eva promised most sadistically he would, they would burn me alive, make him watch, and then kill him after…”

A snarl percolated in Charlie’s throat; he had a difficult time staying put and not punching something through a wall.

Melinda avoided catching his eye. He was mad and she’d expected nothing less. She’d messed up and there was no pretending she had not.

He knew it had been bad. Horrific. And terrifying. But this made him wish he had the chance to bring Eva Jordan back from the grave and kill her again. And again. And again. His wolf growled in unsatisfied agreement. And the Feyk, if they ever stepped foot on the Isle again he’d make sure they never left it, alive. And what about his sister? How would she heal from this? It took four years the last time, and if possible, this was worse than just losing her parents.

“Charlie,” his sister called out uneasily.

“My anger is not aimed at you.” He nodded for her to continue. It was difficult to listen, but he guessed a hundred times harder to tell it, and have lived through it.

“When Riley… I shouldn’t say it was him, because the blame is all on Eva and Stricker.”

“But it’s Riley’s face you see…”

“I hate that it is, but yes. When I close my eyes all I see and hear is Riley torturing William. Eva taunting him. It lasted all night long. They didn’t stop. And William took every punishing blow so I would not die.” She stopped, needing a minute. Saying it aloud made it all too real. Too fresh.

Her brother grabbed her hands, nothing else he could do to comfort her.

They owed the vampire more than he, or anyone, could ever repay. William had been part of the Howard’s lives for such a long time. An important one he hated to lose. Blaming him for the death of this tourist was the last thing he wanted to do.