Free From the Ashes (Witches of The Demon Isle Book 8) by Rachel Humphrey-D'aigle Page B

or any of us, to rush into something and get hurt. You know how I get when I’m on edge, but I can’t use that as an excuse anymore. I think we all feel like we have something to prove, but we’ve lost enough. Let’s do this right. Okay?”
    Melinda looked at her brothers, unsure how to explain the things churning inside her mind. Her feet came up to the sofa, knees tucked into her chest. Then forced herself out of the pathetic woe is me pose and got back to her feet. Her arms fidgeted, she finally shoved them inside her shorts pockets.
    “Me being vampire bait is a bad idea. I get it. I’m not stupid and I don’t have a death wish. But I’m sick of being afraid of things. I want to do my share. I need to. I’ve let you guys, and William, handle everything for way too long.”
    “But that doesn’t mean we rush in,” proclaimed Charlie calmly.
    “No,” settled Michael. “We don’t.” His siblings looked his direction, sensing he had something to add. “We do what Dad taught us. Work together to make a plan we can all agree to, and we stick to it.”
    Charlie looked at Melinda for her approval. She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. Still not quite believing her brother was telling the truth… he did at some level, willing to admit it or not, think her choices were regrettable. There was also the extreme possibility, so very Charlie , he was blaming himself for her mistakes. As if he had anything at all to do with the decisions she’d made. Not all turned out bad, but none were working out in her favor. That much was true.
    Tempers doused, the situation diffused for now, Michael got up to leave.
    “My suggestion would be let’s take the necessary time to come up with a safe and solid plan. There must be a way to hunt this vampire without any of us directly used as bait. Because I do agree, we have lost enough.”
    There was no argument here.
    They all nodded in silent, albeit, tense agreement.
    Charlie and Melinda didn’t have to ask Michael where he was headed. It was time for the bookstore to close and he was escorting Emily home whether she wanted him to or not.
    Howards, stubbornness, and stupid decisions went hand in hand. Tenacity had its benefits, but it wasn’t working in their favor today.
    Melinda reclaimed her seat on the sofa, pretending to shuffle through a book. Poor Michael, she thought. Caught in the middle of sibling differences. Trying to keep Emily together. Not taking care of himself at all. How much more could he take before he snapped?
    There was a soft thud… Charlie sinking into the opposite side of the sofa. Melinda realized he wasn’t grieving or taking care of himself properly at all either. He’d been busy taking care of things, all things , while she’d been in the hospital. While Michael stayed focused on Emily… picking up the slack of William’s absence. Securing the mansion and the power source… and a thousand little things Melinda didn’t have the energy to think about.
    Yet somehow, Charlie always got it done.
    What they really needed was a break. Forget full on vacation, just a break in the craziness. Long enough to catch their breath. Collect themselves into some form not caving in on itself like blubbering boneless skin.
    She fought the urge to drag her knees up against her chest, forcing her fingers to turn another page. This life was not being fair at all. Not that it ever was. But a break, was it too much to ask?
    Although free in body, not bound to a stake watching one man she loved torture the other man she loved, Melinda’s spirit was helpless. As powerless as it had always been.
    Her gaze fluttered upward, peering at the off-white ceiling overhead. Her bedroom right above it. Charlie wasn’t aware, but she was the quick sale buyer of that space he’d sold. The makeover would be simple enough. A comfy space made for full-time living. Make that full-time staying out of the way.
    Her brothers had encouraged her to get a life.
    Epic fail…
    She