A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Books 1-7 (Wicked Good Witches Seasons) (4 page)

Melinda chuckled.

Michael stared at the examination table, which Mack stepped over to, gently lifting a sheet, exposing an intact skeleton.

“Drybones is right.” Michael let out with a whistle.

Melinda would have, but she had never really been able to whistle, so she just replied with a wide-eyed, astonished nod.

The skeleton was lying flat on its back, except for the skull, which was turned as if staring at the siblings. Even skinless, its mouth stuck open in a horrified silent scream, its final terrified moments permanently etched into the bones.

“Sure is something ain’t it?” said Mack. “Called you guys ‘cause I’ve never seen bones come in as clean as these. At first, we weren’t even sure they were real. Sure enough they are. Looks like something came across the body and just plain sucked everything right off ‘em!”

Michael stepped closer. He’d never seen anything like it. Whenever Mack called on his services, it was usually someone recently deceased, that still had muscle and skin attached to the bones.

“Diver found these bones in an underwater cave in Bloodsucker Bay,” Mack explained further. “After initial examination we confirmed it’s a male, and found damage that seems to indicate some kind of trauma.” She pointed out the spot, just to the side of where the heart should have been.

“Considering where they were found, and the condition of the bones,” aimed Michael to the sheriff, “my guess would be a Sea Hag. I’ve never seen their handy work personally, but William’s told me about them. Our parents killed one when I was about two if I remember right. Sea Hag does not explain the trauma to the chest though. Hag’s attack their victims using a poison that releases from tentacles
they
call hair.”

“Icky,” shuddered Melinda.

“I’m with her,” agreed Mack. “Nice to see you out and about, by the way,” she added bluntly. 

Melinda just nodded thanks in reply, preferring to ignore the topic.

Michael stepped toward the skeleton. He took a concentrated breath and extended his arm out to touch the bones. “Why don’t we find out what really happened,” he muttered, laying his hand on the skeleton. Michael’s eyes closed and began to flutter back and forth under closed eyelids.

A long minute later, he gasped and let go, taking a few unsteady steps backwards.

“You okay?” his sister inquired, concerned. 

“Ju-Just a little more violent than I expected,” he stuttered, catching his breath. Something in his eye told Melinda he wanted to say more, but held his tongue. After a moment, he turned to Mack. She always waited patiently after Michael’s assistance, realizing how equally helpful and disturbing his ability as a death reader could be. 

“This man was definitely murdered,” he informed her.

“I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

“Right before his death he was in some kind of rage… shouting like a madman, but nothing comprehendible. It looked like he was trying to attack someone and that
someone
shot him, which explains the chest trauma. They left him to die at the hands of a Sea Hag, as I expected, which explains the stripping of the bones.”

“Don’t suppose you could help a sheriff out and just tell me
who
shot this man?”

“Sorry. No face. Only a gun.” Michael stepped toward the door, appearing eager to leave.

“It gives me a place to start at least. Appreciate it, Michael. I always hate draggin’ you into these things… but at least you’re nice to look at.” Mack raised her eyebrow in sarcastic seduction, her tone laden with flippant innuendo.

“Glad to help,” insisted Michael, this time avoiding her attempt to flirt. 

“You guys’ll look into the Sea Hag?” the sheriff assumed.

“Naturally,” he replied, grabbing Melinda’s arm, promptly departing.

“Be careful!” Mack ordered. “Don’t want to be collectin’ your bones next,” she mumbled after their disappearing frames. 

Michael took rushed steps out of the morgue and down the street. Melinda grabbed her brother’s arm, forcing him to stop. 

“You’re clearly upset over what you saw. Talk to me,” she pleaded. 

His bit his lip, unease spreading splotches of red across his smooth skin.

“I didn’t tell Mack everything I saw,” he finally admitted.

“Why on earth not?”

“Because,” he started, but stopped. He looked down with a shake of his head, unable to believe what he was about to say.

Melinda lifted his chin, making him look her in the eye. “Out with it, Michael. We don’t need two crazies in the house.”

He inhaled deeply, and upon exhaling let slip out the words, “I saw Mom.”

“What?” she breathed out in shock. “In the death reading? Just now?”

“Yes. I saw her clear as day, Melinda. And if I’d told Mack everything, our mother wouldn’t just be dead, she’d also be the number one suspect in a murder investigation.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Charlie and William sat in silence thinking over what Michael had just told them. Twice, Charlie started to speak, and stopped. Finally, in an uncertain voice he got out what he was trying to say.

“Our mother shot a man? A living man? Are you absolutely sure, Michael?”

“You know how my ability works, Charlie. It’s
never
wrong.”

Before Charlie and Michael allowed their tempers to flare further, William intervened. “We all know that what Michael saw is truth. Therefore, logic tells us your mother had a very good reason for her actions.” 

“But a
man
, William? Demons, other witches, any number of other supernatural creatures, sure. But why this man? Could he be the reason our parents are dead?” A low growl rumbled in Charlie’s throat, and the whiskers lining his face stood to attention, thickening and darkening, giving him a sudden savage disposition.

“Charlie,” Melinda spoke anxiously. “Cool it!”

Her eldest brother closed his eyes taking deep breaths to regain his control. “Sorry. Full moon’s really getting to me this time.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Wolfy needs to stay nice and locked up. When you get agitated you don’t think straight.”

“I am aware, Sis,” he grumbled, at the same time distressing over the panic in her voice.
You have to keep your shit together if not for anything else but Melinda. She’s just starting to get better… of all the times to have a case centered around our parents... what perfect-ass timing!
Charlie motioned that he was fine and for them to continue.

“Nothing in what I saw,” explained Michael, “indicated that this man had anything to do with our parent’s deaths, but we would be stupid not to investigate it further, and regardless, we need to deal with the Sea Hag if she’s still around.”

Charlie and Melinda nodded in agreement.

“Any thoughts on where we should start, William?” Michael asked.

“Only one. We need to visit this underwater cave. That is to say,
you
need to visit this cave. I of course, would sink to the bottom of the ocean like a stone.”

“And as much as I would
love
to join this party,” Melinda spoke in a sarcastic drone, “you know my stance on ocean dives and cave exploring. So not going to happen. I’ll leave this investigation up to you two.”
Like usual,
she chided herself.

“Great,” murmured Michael, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “I get to watch Charlie do the doggy paddle.”

Charlie ignored the comment. “So which cave are we heading to?”

“It’s in Bloodsucker Bay. On the northern outlet,” relayed his brother. 

“Must be why the body wasn’t discovered sooner,” William assumed. “Only the most competent divers attempt to explore those caves. The weather on the northern shore is most temperamental.”

“Chances are, the Sea Hag’s not even venturing into that cave anymore,” Michael said. “Mom and Dad died four years ago, so this guy’s been dead a long time. From what I’ve heard, Sea Hag’s tend to move around.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” huffed Charlie. “If this guy, or the Sea Hag, did have anything to do with our parent’s deaths, we won’t rest until we find out everything. But we’ll need time to prepare. We don’t want to end up like the dead guy.”

“Or our parents,” reminded Melinda in a strained voice.

Michael did not argue as he agreed fully with his siblings on this matter.

He cringed though, the uncontrolled emotions flowing freely out of his sister and brother piling on top of his own. He could do without this
gift
his Howard blood had given him. Melinda was fighting off a major panic attack and Charlie was anxious, Michael imagined in part, due to Melinda being in such a panic.

He tried to shut it out but his empathic ability was still somewhat new to him and he had a difficult time doing so. He worried about Melinda too, but he didn’t need Charlie’s worry piled on top of his own.

“Sorry, Michael,” Charlie apologized, seeing his brother’s face. “We’re not exactly holding anything back right now. We need to be more mindful until you can handle your empathy better.”

Michael waved it off, nothing but irritation rampant in his glower. Charlie was trying to be nice, but somehow, every time he tried, all Michael heard was,
you’re not fucking doing it right...

“How about we leave at first light tomorrow?” Charlie suggested.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” agreed Michael. “That’ll give me time to prepare the diving gear.” He hurried out of the room to start packing for their trip to Bloodsucker Bay.

“Poor Michael,” whispered Melinda. “I really don’t know how he can stand it. Having to deal with his own feelings and everyone else’s, too.”

It filled her with guilt instantly. Michael didn’t stay hidden in the house all the time. He dealt with his magical gifts. He didn’t necessarily want them, but he accepted them and was learning how to manage a daily life that came with magical gifts attached.

She, on the other hand, preferred to lock herself away in her room like a silly teenage girl (pathetic, seeing as she was twenty-one), hoping her prophetic dreams would just go away if she didn’t interact with anyone.

Melinda glanced up in time to catch William just looking away from her. Did he think of her as a silly girl? How could he think of her as anything but? Nothing more than a dream, it’s all they’d ever be. If only all her dreams could be as pleasant as the William dream, rather than predicting tragic and sometimes gruesome deaths... she shuddered, and heard Charlie calling her name as if he’d said it a couple of times.

“Sorry, what?”

“I was thinking, since you’re getting so good at it, would you mind helping me whip up some potions?”

“Be delighted,” she answered, taking off towards the kitchen. She needed something to keep busy with before her thoughts became overwhelming and she locked herself in the bedroom again.

“And William…” continued Charlie.

“I’ll be in my study, doing research. Perhaps there is something in your parent’s journals regarding that cave.”

Charlie nodded his approval and William dashed away, ardently retreating to his study.

CHAPTER FIVE

It was the middle of the night.

Melinda fisted her bed sheets. She kicked the one across her body needing it off her overheated skin, which glistened, covered in a feverish dew.

Her breaths came out heavy.

Her chest rose, her back arching.

Fists gripped the sheets with sheer need to grasp onto something.

The dream was vivid.

Intense.

So very, very real.

She was standing in the kitchen in near total darkness, barely able to see the silhouette of her own hand in front of her eyes. But William’s presence charged the air behind her, his vampiric chill not quite touching her skin, a mere breath away. An invisible energy field pulsed between them, drawing them to each other. Icy fingers drifted through her hair, sliding across her right shoulder.

Air caught in her lungs finding no escape. Melinda steadied herself, placing her hands on the counter in front of her. She let out a fiery exhale when he pulled her hair off her neck and brushed the brown strands over to the left side, tucking them out of his way. Melinda didn’t have it in her to turn and look at him. But she knew his eyes were glued to the vein in her neck by the wanton groan chilling the air over her ear.

Icy fingers drew across her back, the zing of the zipper on her dress shooting her heart into overdrive and leaving cold air caressing her bare skin. Bare skin! She wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. This was definitely a regular dream and not a prophetic one, as she’d never dare walk around in a thin dress, wearing nothing at all underneath.

“Let go of the counter,” William commanded, his voice a lustful whisper.

She did. The dress slid over her shoulders, slinking down her arms. It fell to the floor pooling around her ankles.

The air suddenly turned cold. Licking at her skin. But fire burned in her veins, heat flaring down to her center. His arms snaked around her, his embrace possessive.

Cold, stone-hard arms imprisoned her breasts, taunting her nipples into taut peaks. His left arm sank lower, pressing her stomach into him, skin against skin. His coolness against her warmth… thick hardness between them. Her legs, jelly. His grip keeping her on her feet.

“Do you want me to touch you, Melinda?”

“Yes.” It was the only word she could speak, but her mind shouted,
Yes. Please, God. Yes.
Her arms wrapped around his hips, her warm fingers sliding down his thighs. His icy skin trembled underneath her fiery touch.

Cool breath and lips against her neck sent a shudder from her chest down to her stomach, vibrating into her core. 

His fingers followed the trail of her shudder, frost penetrating her fevered skin. He stopped, pausing on her inner thigh.

“Please, William.” She couldn’t wait.

He let out a savage breath, his eyes a ravenous black. His arm tightened around her breasts, his icy grip rubbing against her peaks, shooting red-hot pulses downward.

She gasped when there was a tight pinch on her neck.

He groaned. He could not bite her. Not yet.

Ice invaded her heat, her response a torrent of urgent breath.

He cradled the swollen fire between her legs, each stroke pushing her closer to release. William groaned, fangs drawing against her skin. He needed to taste her. Had to. His lips quivered against her neck.

Melinda’s legs faltered.

William’s grasp held firm, his left arm imprisoning her body against his.

She lifted off the floor. His right hand widened the gap between her legs, kneading her heated nub; squeezing, stroking, trapping her in complete ecstasy…

“William,” she moaned, with a buck of her hips.

Fangs sank into her neck.

The back of her head pushed against his chest. Fingernails dug into his thighs shooting daggers of pain surging into her hands in the effort. She writhed underneath his ensnaring hold of her.

Blood sucked up through her body, into his mouth. His hand didn’t release its attack of her center. He stroked her with tenacious determination, her swell throbbing against his fingers.

Melinda’s body tensed, a glorious spasm erupting.

She expelled a frenzied exhale.

He yanked his fangs out of her, a primal gasp seething over her head. Blood spattered through the vampire’s sated lips.

Her head fell forward, their euphoria coming out in an echo, almost as if it was someone else and she was suddenly just listening from a distance.

William’s cold grip released her body. A curtain of darkness slid over her, the dream plunged into total darkness. Total quiet, other than heavy breaths escaping her own lips.

“William?” she called out breathlessly. Her vampire wasn’t there anymore. He’d been torn out of her dream.

Her vampire…
Melinda had to stop thinking like that. Just dreams. Not real. Never going to be real.

There were clothes against her skin. Shoes on her feet. Warm air brushing across her cheeks. Melinda’s eyes flickered open. The remnants of the William dream drenched her center, leaving her aching to go back.

She wasn’t in the kitchen any longer. It wasn’t dark. She was surrounded by shelves filled with books. No more William. No more magic fingers.

Her hand jerked up to her neck… no fang wounds. A sting still forged into her skin. The memory of his teeth sinking in, vivid. Lifelike. But there was no mark. It hadn’t happened for real. It was just a dream. Only ever a dream.

Her hand dropped. Disappointment and frustration flaring through her nostrils.

Freaking dreams are going to be the death of me!

“So where am I now?”

She turned around, recognizing her surroundings.

A bookstore. Not just any bookstore.

“Emily’s bookstore.”

Melinda spun in a circle, the lusty fire still lit inside of her, stripped suddenly away, leaving only dread in its wake. Emily Morgan raced up the stairs with a stack of books in her hand, her lanky ponytail bobbing behind her.

“Oh, no. No. No. No. No. No…” Melinda let out in a panicked heave.

All heated desire froze, turning into sharp stakes, which cut into her core slicing and dicing the sexual frenzy. Heavy breaths over William’s invasion of her body turned to alarmed exhales.

“I can’t dream this. Please don’t make me dream this.”

Was it not possible to sleep and dream like normal people? Just once! Instead, it was like being awake all the time, even though her body slept soundly. She was still somehow conscious and present in her mind even while dreaming.

And this dream… she didn’t want it. It was no ordinary dream. This dream had interrupted her ordinary dream… well, it was far from ordinary, but this dream,
this
was a prophetic dream.

Melinda recognized it at once.

The way she watched like a stalker sneaking a peek into someone’s life.

The foreboding pang squeezing her heart tighter, and tighter.

It all led up to one terrifying realization…

She was about to watch her friend, Emily Morgan, die…

##

Just after four a.m. Melinda awoke quite forcefully. From total bliss, to totally jacked up. Again. It was the second time this week her risqué William dream was abruptly interrupted by the throes of death.

She sat up, catching her breath, needing the one person she wasn’t sure she could face right now.

“Suck it up. Emily’s life is at stake.”

Melinda threw on a pair of pajama shorts to go along with the tank top she’d worn to bed. She lowered her head, letting out a disgusted breath.

“I can’t go downstairs like this. I smell like sex.” It might have been a dream, but man, it sure as heck felt real.

She tore off the shorts, panties, and the tank top she’d worn to bed. She’d sweated through the tank top. And the panties… to call them wet would be an understatement. After hastily throwing on clean underthings, a dry tank top and her pj shorts, Melinda tiptoed downstairs so as not to awaken her brothers, and entered the study.

“William,” she whispered, hoping he was home and not out for one of his midnight strolls, or patrols.

A swoosh of air tore across the room, stopping a few feet in front of her. Just out of her reach.

“Now how could a girl not fall in love with that? A vampire flying to my aid the moment I call.”
Ugh! Why did I say that?
She hoped he would think it just her typical flirtatious playfulness.

He ignored her remark, sensing a fearful inflection in her tone as she spoke.

“The better question is why I needed to fly to your aid at this early hour? Um…” he trailed off, suddenly averting his gaze. “Melinda… your shirt…”

“What?” she stammered, looking down. In her haste, she hadn’t quite gotten it pulled down all the way. It had only half made it down her boobs. “Sorry, was in a hurry.”

Damn it.
That was the stupidest thing, ever…

She pulled it down with a hard swallow, wrapping her arms around her waist as if trying to hold herself up.
Why didn’t I put on a robe?
She’d never cared what she wore before, but suddenly felt half naked, standing in front of a vampire she was too attracted to, and willing to strip for, if he so much as asked her to. And as far as her brain was thinking, they’d already done that just minutes before.

William backed away, clearing his throat. He returned to his desk, feeling the need to sit and steady himself. Amidst the panic washing off her was something else. A scent far too delectable, which stuck in his nostrils and coated his tongue. His mouth watered, his jaw aching to release his fangs, hungry for the witch shivering just out of his reach.

He blinked, begging his eyes to stay green.

The monster threatened to surface and he growled in displeasure.

His reaction to Melinda was unacceptable. And dangerous. For both of them.

He stood back up with strained control. “I take it you had another dream.”

“Um. Yes.” Melinda didn’t hear the strain in his voice, too preoccupied with her own.
Focus for Christ’s sake.
No… Emily’s sake!
“Yes, it was a dream,” she confirmed. “This one I definitely need help with, William.”
God, I need help with both…

“Should I awaken your brothers?”

“
No!”
she answered hastily. “I mean, they have a lot to deal with already. And if I told Michael what I just dreamed, he’d probably have a major freak out. Bad enough he had to see our mother shoot some guy.”

“What does Michael have to do with your dream?” the vampire asked, controlled concern overcoming the carnal cravings.

“Not Michael. Emily. The love of his life that he won’t just admit is the love of his life already.”

“Emily. This is most distressing,” William replied evenly. “Explain.”

“I didn’t see enough, William. Not nearly enough. But if I don’t figure out the who, what and how, Emily
will
die.”

“You did not say when or where,” he noted. 

“Bookstore. Right after closing today.”

Melinda took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting go of everything else except her prophetic dream, willing another to show her more. It didn’t happen. It never happened like that. Not at will.

She let out a frustrated whine.

Her eyes opened and she gave a start when William’s distressed emerald greens drilled down into her baby blues. She hadn’t even heard him approach. He stood so close she could feel his nearness, yet he did not touch her. Just like the dream. She swore there was an energy field pulling them together.

She was awake, right? This wasn’t still a dream… although if it were heading back to another William… her eyes closed. A silent scream reverberating through her skull.
SAVE
EMILY YOU TOTAL SHIT-FOR-BRAINS!
A defeated breath escaped her lips.

She opened her eyes. Determined. Feeling a little more in control. 

William sucked in, the enticing scent of her lessened. Melinda wasn’t emitting the arousal she’d been bathed in when she’d first entered the room. More like, there was much more dread pouring out of her now, overpowering all else.

“Do not worry, Melinda,” he sang soothingly. “This dream will not come to pass.”

Which one?
Her overworked brain wondered.

Melinda nodded in response to him, unable to find her voice. She rarely ever saw William up so close. His skin was smooth and pale, almost glass-like in a way. Not a wrinkle. Not a single age spot revealing his hundreds of years of life.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d sucked in and held, tearing her eyes away, cheeks flush from the desire to look so closely. She could not control her heart though. From the look on his face, he heard the pounding beats.

He took a step away from her, a peculiar look flitting across his face.