: Chapter 16
The Last Witch: Volume Two
The rain has turned to sleet. My legs buckled hours ago. Iâm on my knees, inches deep in the mud and sinking further and further as every moment passes. My hair is plastered to my face. My skin is in agony as the thin ice pelts down hard on my naked body. I slump over. And Uncle Harry showers me with the hose once more. He doesnât stop until I get back up on my knees. My teeth chatter hard. Iâve been shivering for so long, my muscles ache.
Heâs wrapped up in his thick coat with a scotch in his hand, laughing from his belly as he watches me. I scratch at the thick rope around my neck, hating that the wetter it becomes, the more it smells of dog.
The sun is setting. The porch light is turned on as Christa brings out a plate of beef hotpot. Harry sits on a rocking chair and watches me shiver. Iâm tied to the post where his dogs are tethered when they misbehave.
âYou want to behave like a feral bitch?â Harry calls over, laughing as he does. He throws a chunk of meat at me. It lands in the mud but within reach. My stomach screams in desperation. I havenât eaten in two days. Not a thing. Iâm being punished. I ate some of the left-over Christmas dinner from the fridge. I look up at Harry through my rain soaked lashes as he watches me with a smirk. It grows when I reach over and scoop up the mud-soaked meat.
âThatâs it, girl. Eat my scraps.â
I hurl it into the bushes and resume my position. My insides cramp at the loss of the slightest bit of sustenance.
But I would rather die out here. Starved. Naked. Cold. Than let him see me bend to his will. I lay my palms down flat on my thighs and let the icy water continue to hammer hard against my skin. Not once looking away from him.
Itâs only temporary, after all. The rain will either stop. Harry will get bored and let me go.
Or Iâll die.
âItâs just temporary,â I tell myself.
Just like Tobyâs been teaching me.
âLilly?â Grayson gives me a gentle shake awake. I flinch and slap his hand away from me, startled by the mixture of my dream and his touch.
âDonât touch me, Grayson,â I warn. âKeep your hands to yourself.â
âAlright. Calm down. It seemed like you were having a nightmare. Thought Iâd spare you.â He returns his hand to the steering wheel. I glance back at the series of cars following us. The one directly behind has Gabriel and Hendrix. Grayson wouldnât let him drive to the house in the same car as me and rather than be forced to talk to him, I closed my eyes to rest. I must have fallen asleep.
He hands me a cereal bar from the driver side door. âYour stomachâs been growling like you are harboring some kind of beast in your belly. You should eat.â
I take the bar, roll down the window, and toss it out.
âLast time I accepted something from you, I ended up branded.â I pull my jacket tighter around my body and continue looking out the window. âIâd rather be hungry than accept anything you offer me.â
âFine.â He shrugs and puts more pressure on the accelerator. âBe hungry. God, I hate your spiteful streak.â
âAnd I hate everything about you.â I add in a quiet mumble.
âSorry?â
âNothing.â
After another half an hour or so, we park up in a small, but busy, little town. The back-passenger door opens and Gabriel slides in. He forces himself between the two seats and we share a chaste little kiss.
âYou alright, Beautiful?â
âFine. You?â
âAll good.â He turns to Grayson and asks, âDid you see them?â
âYes. I saw them,â he mutters angrily, referring to the small group of people we passed a few moments ago, shouting and waving signs outside the house Iâm assuming is the converted museum. The slogans varied from to a more direct concept.
âDeath to Witches!â
âThey really hate us, donât they?â
âYep,â Gabriel replies plainly. âI called ahead and the owners are still opening up today. But he thinks that by tomorrow heâll be shut down by the authorities. I expect Hunters will descend on him soon enough and confiscate what he has. That newspaper stuff has really riled everybody up.â
Grayson remains quiet. His hands grip the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles are white. His mouth is in a tight line as Gabriel watches him nervously.
âKeep your head,â he tells him calmly.
âMy head is kept. Believe me. Or those people would be on the floor writhing in agony,â Grayson replies.
âItâs just a couple of people with some silly signs,â I offer. Stupidly.
âAnd Hitler was just one man with an idea. Look what he achieved. These people, much like you, Miss Hooper, have no idea what one word can do when said at the right time to the right person. None. If my grandfather hadnât refused to help that pathetic little human-king fight his stupid war over in the East, he wouldnât have sought out that god forsaken man, Richards. And the war between humans and witches would probably never have started.â
âRichards?â I ask.
âTimothy Richards,â Gabriel mutters, like the name is a dirty word. âHe started the Hunter program. By order of the king, of course. The king knew we would never follow his rule. Or any human-kings rule. So, he decided to destroy us instead. He ordered the capture of thousands of human children and forced them into training, under the command of Richards. Ten years later, they attacked, and the war began.â
âYou see these people?â Grayson asks me, pointing over at the group of protesters. âScreaming for the murder of thousands of innocent people? They did this at the executions all those years ago. The crowds cheering as Hunters led out their victims. They killed most the men when they raided the villages. It was the women and children they bound and dragged through the mobs.â His hands start to shake and there is a slight tremble to his voice. âAnd they killed the children first.â
âWhy?â I ask.
âSo their parents had to watch,â Gabriel answers sadly.
âHoly-hell. Thatâs barbaric. But⦠People arenât like that now. They wouldnât stand by and watch-â
âYes, they would. And of all people, you should know that. All those staff in your uncleâs house, how many helped you?â He shakes his head and scoffs at his own memories. âWe thought that the villagers would defend us. Protect us. Most of them had benefited from our magic in some way. But when the time came, they stood in those crowds and cheered with everybody else, watching the torture and murder of the people they once called friends.â Graysonâs eyes brim with tears, but thereâs such hatred in the rest of him. âYou couldnât hear the agonised screams of the mothers as they watched their babies suffer and die over all the applauding and cheering,â he spits hatefully. âWatching them being chained up in those tanks and drowned. Watching them tied to stakes and burnt. Iâll never forget it and I will never forgive it. These fools donât understand what they are calling for.â Heâs descending into a hateful and furious pit full of pain and suffering. As he speaks, I know heâs seeing those images behind his eyes. Memories that forged him into the monster that he is today. I couldnât imagine it. Watching all those people die. Screaming. Drowning. Burning. Choking. All in front of a mob, cheering and applauding. I rest my hand on Graysonâs shoulder and he stops his ranting. He blinks his tears away and takes a long, deep breath.
âThen itâs a good thing you found me, huh? Iâll bring down the Veil and we wonât let that happen again. I promise.â
He taps my hand and nods, pulling himself back together. âFirst things first,â Grayson says, undoing his seat belt and switching off the engine. âWe find the ring. Do not use your magic unless there is absolutely no other way. You keep the lowest of profiles.â
He pulls up his hood, slides on some sunglasses and gets out, slamming the door shut and not giving us a chance to say a word. Heâs embarrassed I think. That he let his emotions get the better of him.
Gabriel leans into me. âThat was a nice thing you did. Comforting Grayson like that. Much more than he deserves.â
âWell, I didnât want him to leap out the car and start killing them. Itâs weird to see him so emotional. When he talks about the war, itâs almost like heâs got a heart.â
âA lot happened to us in the war,â Gabriel sighs, glancing out the window to his brother whoâs talking to Billy and Hendrix. âA lot happened to Grayson. He lost a lot. Which is why I guess I forgave so much of his cruelty.â
âHeâs guilty of a lot of cruelty,â I add with a raised brow. âYouâre a bigger person than me to have forgiven any of it.â
âGrayson was married once,â he says, still glancing out the window.
What?!
âThey were kids. Barely fifteen when they tied the knot. Mother disapproved of her. She was human.â
âShe was a what? Grayson Kendryk⦠Married a human!â
âOh yeah. But her spirit was so wiccan. She was wild. Always getting in trouble. Always playing with the boys instead of stitching or learning her etiquette.â He laughs fondly as I sit mouth-open. âGrayson was besotted with her. Always running after her. Trying to keep up. She was better at everything. A better swimmer. A better archer. A better swordswoman. God, she was just this ball of energy.â He looks back at me. âJust like you. So much like you.â
âWhat happened?â I dare to ask. That smile soon slips.
âWhat do you think?â He takes my hand. âHe lost her. In the war. He lost both her and their daughter during the war.â He kisses my knuckles and rests his hand on my cheek. Like the idea of losing me is too much to bear. âThe day they died. The day they were murdered, we were there. In the crowd. In one of the cages, awaiting our turn to be executed. Timothy Richards, the sadistic bastard, had us up front to watch. He wanted Grayson to see them die.â
âWhy such cruelty?â
âBecause it was Timothy Richardsâ daughter Grayson had married.â
âBloody hell! Richards killed his own daughter? His own grandchild?â
He nods. âBias and Theo disrupted the execution. But not soon enough. Graysonâs wife and child died by the time they got to us. You know? I still have nightmares about that day? About the scream Grayson produced when they died? It wasâ¦â His eyes go vacant and his skin turns pale. âSo much pain, Lilly. So much fear and sorrow. So much hatred, all poured into that one, single scream. The crowd cheered as his wife and baby girl were killed. She was two, Lilly. Two! How could anyone⦠Why would⦠They justâ¦â I canât take the horror etched on his features as he relives the memories, searching them for a single reason why, or how, anyone could do such a thing. I squeeze his hand and gently guide his attention back to me. He blinks and returns. âIâm sorry. I shouldnât talk about such things in front of you. Not after what you went through.â
âYou can. Your pain is mine. And mine is yours. We share so we donât suffer alone. Go on.â
âGrayson disappeared right then and there. The Grayson I knew at any rate. I would say he Broke. But he didnât. He just⦠died. Inside. I think that when he met you, the spark he felt for his wife all those years ago flickered again. He never looked at another woman after she died. In all those centuries. He barely looked at anyone, truth be told. Until you. But heâs still cruel and heartless. The two boys I grew up with? My brothers? Theyâre gone. One died in the Hunters cells. The other died when the Hunters murdered his family right in front of him. Hunters took everything from us. But I no longer forgive either of my brotherâs wickedness. Because thereâs nothing in those men that I love anymore. My brothers are gone. And Graysonâs wife would be ashamed of him now. She wouldnât recognise him at all. The boys I loved growing up? They arenât coming back.â
âWhat was her name?â I ask.
âArianna,â he replies. âAnd his little girl was Tilly.â
âPoor guy,â I whisper. âNo wonder heâs so twisted. But that still doesnât excuse what heâs done. After all, he had a son and let him die too when he tried to get his magic to manifest.â
âAgreed.â He takes my chin in his hand and shows me that stunning smile of his. âOkay. Are you ready?â
âAs Iâll ever be.â
We join the others outside. Hendrix is leaning against his car with his dark shades on watching a group of girls walk past. After a few minutes of reaffirming the plan, Hendrix and I head into the town, leaving them behind.
I think about what Gabriel shared with me. Does knowing the pain that lies in Graysonâs past excuse the man he is now?
No.
But at least I understand a little more. I donât forgive his actions. Past or present. But I understand. After all, I killed several men after my child was taken from me. But I would never do what he has done. What he did to Rose Hooper and to the boy they conceived together. To me. To Gabriel.
Whoever he was when he loved Arianna, he isnât that man anymore.
Now, heâs a monster.
And as my uncle always said.
âMonsters get what they deserveâ.
And Grayson will get what he deserves.