A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Books 1-7 (Wicked Good Witches Seasons) (76 page)

CHAPTER 3

It was almost the Fourth of July, but rather than planning a barbecue, or deciding whether to watch the local parade, Melinda Howard stood in the basement of the mansion staring down Riley Deane. She hoped like hell the spell cast by the Feyk was removable. The spell amplified anger and rage; something Riley was focusing entirely on William, seeing him as
in the way
of his relationship with Melinda.

An endless spewing of hatred flew out of Riley’s mouth. She’d never witnessed anything like it and did her best to overlook the nasty things he said, knowing it wasn’t really him speaking. 

“Riley, please calm down,” she pleaded for the umpteenth time. “This is for your own good, believe me.”

They’d spent hours searching for him during the night and early morning when Melinda had thought of the quarry. A place the two of them had visited together. They had lucked out and found him there, but he’d sprung out at them as if to attack, appearing not to recognize them. Or if he did, he didn’t care. 

After a minute he’d calmed down, recognizing Melinda’s face, which took him off guard long enough for them to subdue him... meaning they pounced, knocked him to the ground, pinned him down, and tied him up.

The rage somehow enhanced his strength. Massive adrenaline burst maybe? They were not sure. But it took all of them to overpower him. They proceeded to drag him back to the Howard Mansion and lock him into a secure cell in the basement.

Unfortunately, it was the same cell that William used when suffering from blood withdrawals. A smaller more condensed version of his study. This only enraged Riley even more and they’d been forced to tie him to a chair to keep him from hurting himself or someone else.

They bound his hands in front of him, palms facing each other, to keep him from using magic to free himself or attack them. If he tried, the magic would have nowhere to go to except into the opposite palm, essentially soaking it up and canceling it out. The only effective way to keep a witch from using magic. Unless you were a very practiced witch who could perform spells without speaking them. This was something that took many years of intense study.

Melinda sighed and faced him, looking for any sign of the molasses eyed motorcycle man she’d fallen in love with, but she didn’t see it.

“I have no idea if my Riley is in there somewhere, but if you are, I’m going to bring you back. Just hang in there, okay.”

“Let me go,” he responded, wildness in his eyes.

“Sorry, that’s not going to happen.”

She wondered if she kept talking to him if perhaps she could change his mind and take his rage off William. But even if she could, he’d just turn his rage on someone else. They needed to cure him.

Melinda grabbed another chair and slid it in front of him. She sat down, reached over and placed her hands on his knees.

This act brought a smile to his face. A rather drunk sort of smile. Like he wasn’t completely present and accounted for. Part of him was missing from the smile. This was the part she needed to bring to the surface.

She scooted her chair closer so that her knees were touching his, toying with an idea, although she wasn’t sure it was safe to get this close to him. She didn’t think he would hurt her. Then again, in her prophetic dream he had been willing.

But that was after she’d admitted aloud that she loved William.

Which was after Riley had tortured him and threatened to burn him at the stake. 

She’d be sure to keep William’s name out of the conversation. This was a no-mistakes, keep-her-foot-out-of-her-mouth type situation.

“You’re so beautiful,” sighed Riley. His gaze was intense as if looking at a goddess, and yet held this drunk sort of blankness. Still, on any other day the intensity of his stare would have turned her legs all wobbly and sent butterflies fluttering through her nerves.

She decided it was now or never to try her idea. Her thoughts swam around the possibility of true love’s kiss.
Yup. I’m resorting to fairytales.

But what other way was there to end anger, and rage, than with love? Perhaps love could conquer all. And in this case, if she got love to overcome the rage, she could cure Riley of the Feyk’s spell. And no one would get hurt.

She leaned in, her lips nearly touching his. God he smelled good. Molasses, with a hint of brown sugar. She breathed him in like a drug, forgetting she was trying to cure him; she wasn’t here to get all worked up. Her eyes lifted upward and she caught his adoring gaze. He closed the gap between their heads and stole her lips.

Damn…
I was supposed to kiss him, not the other way around.
Still, she guessed it didn’t matter. Love and affection was love and affection. Maybe it was better that he started it and took that first step.

His lips were gentle but telling. Each touch claimed so much more than just adoration.

Devotion. Complete devotion, to her.

This kiss, his lips, was all hers. He belonged to no one else.

“Damn. You have the sweetest lips, Melinda. Untie me,” he implored softly.

“I can’t.”

He groaned against her lips. “I want to be with you.”

“You are with me.”

“I need my hands.”

“Not really. You’re doing just fine without them.”

“But I could do so much better. I want to touch you. I
need
to touch you. Everywhere.”

She groaned. Tempted. So very tempted.

“Sorry. I can’t, Riley.” She sidetracked him by sliding out of her chair and onto his lap, straddling his legs. Her hands ran through his disheveled hair and she claimed his lips for her own. A deeper kiss. Tongues battling each other, tasting each other.

“You don’t mind being tied up now, do you?”

“If you’d told me this was what you had in mind…” the rest was garbled into their lips tugging at each other. His bound hands wiggled in front of her, the tips poking into her stomach. The bonds were secure but he was trying like hell to loosen them.

“Just free a couple of my fingers so I can touch you.” There was an edge of desperation in his voice.

Just a couple fingers… he couldn’t use magic to free himself with just a couple of fingers… but he could definitely work some magic on her.
Maybe this is working too well.

“Melinda,” he groaned against her lips. “I need to. I need to touch you so badly.”

“I can’t,” she whispered breathlessly. She pried her lips away and leaned her forehead against his, sucking in air to clear her head.

Stupid hormones. You’re here to save him, not let him feel you up for Christ’s sake.

So far, her idea was working though. If she could just keep his mind completely on her; feeling love rather than rage, perhaps he’d snap out of it. He seemed a bit more like the old Riley again. Not as enraged. She wasn’t sure what he was feeling was love, or just lust though. Even lust was better than rage.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly. 

“
Hard.
”

Her breath hitched.

As if to prove his point, he pressed up into her thigh, as much as his bonds would allow anyway. Melinda bit her lip, she hadn’t planned on taking it this far. And it wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“I want my hands all over your hot little body,” he continued with a groan. “I want to lick every inch of you. I want to bend you over and bury myself in you so deep you scream my name. Again. And again.”

“Oh,” Melinda gasped. His words made her feel many things. Hot. So very hot. So,
so
close to untying him and letting him do just that. It also left a strange pang in her chest. There was something dirty and disturbed hidden somewhere. The tone in which he spoke held some unknown meaning. Something that warned her she should not be turned on by this.

She straddled him, peering into his eyes. Riley’s molasses orbs darkened, taking on a sick wildness. It sent a shiver down her spine. Not a pleasurable one.

His lips curled into a vile grin.

“I want to fuck you on every piece of furniture and make you
come
over, and over, and over.” He let out lewd throaty laugh. “I want your scent all over this room so your
vampire
can smell it. I want him to know that
I
fucked you in his little jail cell. I only wish I could see his face after…”

Melinda didn’t know what came over her but she reached up and slapped him across the face. Hard.

She glared like it was painted on her face, finally breaking her gaze to close her eyes. She had to look away from him.
It’s not really him. It’s not Riley.
No matter how many times she repeated this it did not help. Her Riley would never say these things to her. Never treat her in such a demeaning manner.
Never… never… it’s not him…
 

Her true love’s kiss experiment was an epic fail. It had been a terrible idea. One of her worst ideas, ever. She started to slide off him when a soft confused voice whispered her name.

“Melinda…”

She opened her eyes, unshed tears threatening to pour down her cheeks.

He blinked hard a few times, shaking his head. His gaze finding hers again.

“Riley?” The emptiness in his eyes was gone. No more blank spot where he should have been.

“I don’t know why I said those things. I would never hurt you like that. I’m so sorry, Melinda. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” He remembered everything he’d said and done. It sickened him to his depths.

“Is it really you?” She didn’t dare believe it.
The things he said…
she had to let it go. Her Riley would never say those things. He’d never treat her like that. Hard as she tried though his words left a dark spot deep in her gut.

“I’m so sorry, Melinda. I… I…”

She leaned her forehead back on his again. “Forget it. You were put under a spell by the Feyk. It makes you… angry.”

“That wasn’t anger. It was… spite. Pure spite.
Melinda,
look at me. Please.”

She did.

“You’re so beautiful. So perfect. I’ve only ever wanted to make you feel good about yourself. To see how confident you should be. You haven’t admitted it, but I can tell someone hurt you. Made you feel…” he choked a little… “like I just did.” He stated it pure disgust in himself.

“I’m sorry I slapped you.”

“No. Don’t be. I deserved a lot worse.”

She leaned in and gently kissed him.

“Melinda. God, you do have the sweetest lips. I just need to be sure you know I don’t think of you like that. I could never, because I love…” he stopped, shocked by what he was saying. “Because I love you. It’s so fast, but I’m so sure.” He smiled weakly. “You still make me say the craziest things.”

Did she love him? Could she say it back? Should she, even if she wasn’t sure?

He didn’t seem to care. His lips devoured hers, a new devotion heavy in his attack.

Melinda was so many levels of confused. Severe tiredness was not helping. And she was all kinds of torn up about William since her fiery prophetic dream. And now Riley had just told her he loved her.

She reached in front of her to loosen his bonds.

“No. Stop.”

“But you’re back,” she argued softly.

“For good?” he shook his head. “I won’t lie, I hate being tied up but… until you have a cure you have to keep me here.”

“I guess. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I am right. If you could hear all the sick things ravaging through my mind… just don’t let me go. Keep me locked up, please?”

“Okay.” She stared, frightened at what thoughts he had kept to himself.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry I already did.” He threw silent apologies at her.

“It’s going to be okay, Riley.” She kissed him again.

“Mmmm, I could do this all day. Feel free to take advantage of me all you want.”

Melinda grinned. She’d keep Riley safe, somehow. They would find a cure for him. She wouldn’t let him hurt anyone.

“Maybe you should untie me,” he mumbled.

“But we’re having so much fun with you all tied up,” she returned.

“I want to have more fun.”

“We’re taking it slow, remember?” She hoped if she just kept talking to him he’d stay with her.

“Screw taking it slow. Untie me.” The urgency heightened. 

She pulled back with a frightened breath.

“Riley?”

He said nothing, just stared.

Oh God, I’m losing him again.
“If I untie you, what will you do?”

“Free you, make you mine. Forever.”

“I am yours, Riley. And I am free.”

“No. You’re not. But I’ll make you free. And if you’re mine as you claim, you will untie me.” A frostiness cooled his tone.

Melinda swallowed hard, her legs tensing, but she didn’t back away. She wasn’t giving up yet. She could pull him back again.