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

was.
    She usually didn’t like the hustle and bustle of the tourists, but today it was a nice distraction. Kept her thoughts from becoming too much for her overworked brain. Anyhow, all the caffeine, probably not helping her jitters. Regardless, she sipped on the hot energy in a cup and closed her eyes, soaking in all the sounds.
    The clip-clop and shuffling of passersby. A horse drawn carriage carrying tourists on a tour of downtown. Laughter. Bicycles whizzing by. Distant car motors. The ferry blowing its horn announcing either its arrival or departure from the Isle. Seagulls crying, flying low in search of dropped food.
    There was a feather light breeze; it wasn’t heavy and humid like so many mid-July days on the Isle. Her lips formed into a contented grin.
    A moment of peace.
    Not quiet.
    But a serenity nonetheless.
    She blew out satisfied breath. Took another sip… Grace had added a dash of cinnamon. She worked her own kind of caffeinated magic, that woman.
    The Isle as it should be.
    And that sound. There it was. The electrifying vroom of Riley Deane’s motorcycle…
    Melinda’s eyes flew open, breath caught. Heart skidding across a few beats.
    In excitement…
    This surprised her. At first pleasantly. Right after, shocked she was so eager… but it wasn’t Riley’s two-wheeled metal machine. Just another motorcycle similar to his, carrying a couple driving through town. Seeing the woman with her arms wrapped around her traveling companion left a throbbing anguish around Melinda’s heart.
    She missed riding around the Isle with her motorcycle man. Missed her arms embracing him, teasing him as he drove. The smell of his leather jacket. The smells of the island in bloom, the ocean spitting salt into the air. She had a sudden emptiness sweep through her, missing the way he wrapped himself around her like he was her own personal security blanket. The things he’d whisper in her ear. Every word exactly what she needed or wanted to hear. The way he’d touch her and drive her mad… the way he could be a little shy, and yet a little cocky, and at the same time treat her like a queen he cherished above all else.
    Why did it have to happen the way it did? What was the point of Riley and his brother coming here, if only to do this terrible thing that forced him to leave the Isle? And why wasn’t it easy to forgive and forget? She had mostly forgiven him at this point. But did it make any difference? Riley might never come back. He might never want her the same way again. Even if she could forget all he’d done and forgive him, completely.
    And how much harder was all this for him? To think of it from his point of view, to be the one who’d done those terrible things.
    In her heart of hearts, she wanted him to come back, to move beyond everything that happened. She had an aching desire to reach out to him and beg him to come home. Melinda had a suspicion that she might be the only person Riley would listen to.
    But was it because she wanted him to come home? Or because she needed him to? Was she in need of his attention, and security? Or did she really want all of him? Was it fair to Riley to be second place, when if she had her first choice, she’d choose William? Even as she thought this, she was unsure William would be the winner. There was no future with the vampire. Not a romantic one at least.
    This was a decision the universe might have to make for her; other than tossing a coin her heart flipped back and forth between the two hour to hour. Which was stupid seeing as William wasn’t even a choice! Yet her heart refused to give him up.
    And this dependency thing… this need for a man-sized security blanket… it had to end. Maybe it was a good thing both men were gone.
    “Well hello there,” a voice called out. Melinda lifted her starry gaze to see Mack approaching. “Mind if I join ya?”
    “Please,” replied Melinda. “Slow morning?” Her body tensed, hoping for a yes.
    “No new