Isle of Truth: We Witches Three, #9

By Humphrey Quinn

The wickedest witch the Demon Isle never even knew existed put a curse on Grayson Moone and Lizzy Deane—two lovers not only separated by time, but they believed, by death. Now, the past has caught up to them, throwing the present into supernatural chaos. 

 

The curse must be broken before any more innocent lives are lost. The only problem… no one has any idea how to break it, other than they believe it must be Lizzy who does. However, when tragedy strikes in a most unexpected manner, breaking the curse may no longer be possible. 

 

Which means the cursed and bloodthirsty vampire, Grayson Moone, is stuck on The Demon Isle. 

 

** We Witches Three is part of Demon Isle Witches, the YA/Teen Edition of the Series... 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Daigle
• Release date: Jan 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781540160485

Humphrey Quinn

Ruby Raine writes steamy supernatural witch mysteries... 

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Along 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