– Chapter 15
The Last Witch: Volume Three
Since I have been gone, society and civilisation as I knew it has fallen. The vampire-witch hybrid monstrosities that Grayson and Hendrix created are out in the open and making it clear they intend to take over as the dominant species on the planet. Many of the remaining Descendants have decided to abandon all hope of reaching the Arcane Realm and now follow Graysonâs lead. Even after he disappeared, they follow his ideals. When I apparently died, they sided with Hendrix, thinking they had a bigger chance at survival if they did. Hendrix has been leading them, so Dad says. And heâs been recruiting, too. They serve him as they served the Kendryk brothers. Loyal subjects. Armed guards. Dogsbodies and procreators but now, instead of making babies, the Descendants loyal to Grayson and Hendrix make more vampire-like creatures.
Hunters are rife, travelling the country in search of those with magic, Descendants and vampires. All cities have border control and many towns are ruled over by those sympathetic to the Hunterâs mission of destroying anything remotely supernatural or different.
Vigilantes.
They report those they suspect of being Descendants or vampiric to the Hunters directly. Those who pose no real threat but who are deemed âsympathisersâ are dealt with by local law enforcement.
Thatâs how it is supposed to be, but Dad tells me that there are bodies in the street and murders happening every single day, without cause or provocation.
He warns me to prepare myself. The madness I saw before I disappeared has only gotten worse. Public executions are commonplace. The wealthy pay to play with those arrested and the further away from civilisation you go, the more brutal it becomes.
Dad shuts off the boatâs engine as we get closer to land and rows us in, bringing the boat to the base of a line of towering cliffs.
âFollow my lead,â he whispers in my ear. âKeep hold of my hand and watch your footing. Some of these rocks are slippery.â
âWeâre climbing this thing?â I whisper back in surprise, looking upwards at the jagged and looming rock-face.
He takes my hand. âYep. Ready?â
With a deep breath, I pull back my shoulders and nod. âAbsofuckinglutely. Bring it on.â
Heâs definitely used this route before. He knows exactly where to hold and where to place his feet. The cliffs look far steeper than they actually are and Iâm pretty impressed with myself for navigating the divots and nooks as elegantly as I do. I watch his every move, careful to use the same footholds. The land starts to flatten out and soon turns grassy. When we reach the top, thereâs no time to rest. I would like a second to catch my breath, but itâs simply not safe enough. Crouching low, we run across the open grassland, hop over a few fences, jog down a rocky path with high hedges either side and come to a car park filled with cars.
He goes to an old blue Beetle, reaches beneath the arch over the front right tyre and searches, feeling blindly for something in the dark.
âThere it is,â he says under his breath, returning to his feet. With a click, he unlocks the car and we both slide in, out of breath and feeling the cold of the sea air. As I blow into my cupped hands, attempting to return some feeling to my fingers, heâs already busy pulling out a bag from beneath his seat and opening the glove box in front of me.
âHere. You know how to use one of these?â he asks with fierce concentration as he hands me a gun.
âI point it at the bad guy and go â
â, right?â
He continues to watch me, blinking in rapid succession before slowly reaching out to take it back.
âErm, on second thought, maybe I should just keep hold of that. I have a lovely taser you could use instead.â
I take hold of the pistol, check that its loaded and slide one of the bullets in the chamber before popping on the safety.
He nods proudly. âImpressive. Gabriel teach you?â
âNo. Collins did. Gabriel said I didnât need a gun. That I was the most powerful weapon I could ever hope to use. Collins, on the other hand, told him that sometimes a bullet to the brain is needed.â
âI say I have to agree with Collins,â Dad replies, the hint of an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He slides the key into the ignition and turns it. The engine rumbles to life. He sits back in his seat with a heavy sigh, looking out into the darkness. âSunrise is in a few hours.â
I wait for him to continue, but he just sits there, staring. He tilts his head and looks at me.
âI want you to prepare yourself.â
âYou know me. Born ready.â
âI know. But when I told you that things have changed, I really meant it, okay? Youâll see things. Hard things. I donât want you to become too⦠upset.â His eyes flick briefly to my hair.
âIs my eye still-â
âScarily lilac? Yep. And the tips of your hair are as white as snow.â
âI wonât let her take back control,â I promise. âNo matter what. My daughterâs life depends on it. She didnât care about the baby. She only wanted to use it to her own ends. She may not care that we canât find her.â
He doesnât look convinced. I reach over and squeeze his hand.
âIâve got this. Trust me, Dad. I can deal with it. Iâve got you by my side and Iâll be back with Gabriel real soon. Until then, I have a perfect memory keeping my bad side busy. Iâll be fine.â
âOkay then,â he replies. His stare lingers on me as if waiting for me to change my mind. âCan I ask what this memory of yours is?â
âItâs complicated.â
âAlright,â he sighs. âBut if it does get too much and if you feel like you may lose control I need you to tell me.â
âI will.â I nod in agreement, pulling back my hand and settling into my seat. âIsâ¦â I lose the courage to ask what I want to ask.
âWhat?â Dad encourages.
âIs Gabriel mad at me?â I look at him anxiously. âI wouldnât blame him if he never wanted to see me again.â
Dad rests his hand on mine.
âYou listen to me. Gabriel Kendryk loves the bones of you. When you Broke, he never gave up on you and he never stopped looking for you.â
âBut heâs not here now? He didnât stay at the site like you did.â
âHe left me there because he knew he could trust me to look after you and get you back to him. He had to go, sweetheart. He had to protect the others. You know that. You know him.â
I nod slowly, knowing that heâs right. Gabriel has obligations. He did the right thing and Dad there for me. Just as he hoped he would be.
Dad to protect me, Gabriel to save the others.
I say the words before I can even stop myself and feel petty and childish even asking.
âYou donât think heâs found someone else, do you? I mean, a yearâs a long time and after what I did, well.â
âNot in a million years,â he assures me. âOf that, I am damn certain. I never thought I would ever say these words, but Gabrielâs a good man, and he would never hold anything did against you.â
âI did bad things. How could he ever forgive me? How could any of you?â
âWe all know that you, trading us all over to the Theo and the Hunters, was your Broken side. Not you. We-â
âWhat?!â Now Iâm on the edge of my seat, facing him. âI did what?â
He hesitates, realising that I have no idea what heâs on about and terrified that telling me will end in lilac eyes and white hair.
âDad. What exactly did I do?â
âMaybe we should talk about this another time.â
âJust. Tell me.â
He concedes.
âYour Broken side offered us all to Theo in exchange for leaving you alone and letting you leave for The Arcane Realm. Thatâs why we were all there at the stone that night. Youâd captured Collins, Connor, Gabriel, Tobias and I, and were trading us for your own safety. But we-â
âWhat did Theo want with you all? To kill you?â
He shakes his head and hesitates. A nudge from me encourages him on.
âHe needs to kill as many Descendants as possible to increase his connection to the Arcane Realm, so he can have enough power to perform his spell and return whatâs-her-face to life. But weâd hidden them. He couldnât find them. So he wanted us to help him find them.â
Bile rises in my throat as I slump back in the seat and stare out of the window.
âI was handing you all over to be tortured and killed. All of you. Even the Descendants. And I was just going to run off and leave you all behind?â I scoff in disgust. âI hate myself. I hate her. I hate Theo and I hate everything about this fucking war!â I shake my head and look out into the darkness. âI deserve whatâs coming to me. I deserve it completely.â
Dad rests his hand softly on mine and slides his fingers into my clenched fists, prising my fingernails from my skin.
âIt wasnât you. You canât take the responsibility. Itâs pointless and a massive waste of time and energy. Time and energy you need to be spending on finding the others. Your child included.â
âHow many have died since I disappeared?â I ask in a shameful hush. He remains silent. âI led you all to Theo that night. None of you should have been at that damned stone. If anyone had gotten hurt that night, it would have been completely my fault.â
âWell,â he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. âGood job no one got hurt then, hmm?â
I nod, but continue to bite my lip.
âYou ready?â he asks after a few moments.
âYeah. Where to now?â
âNorth,â he says. âThereâs a town a days drive from here. I have a contact there, hiding. A Nomad in deep cover.â
âDeep cover? What does that mean?â
âIt means, Lilly, that in a town full of vigilantes, vampire-freaks and possibly real actual Hunters, there is an individual living amongst them who knows where a Nomad camp is located. And if luck is on our side, they may still be alive and can tell us exactly where to go to find the Nomads. That way we donât have to travel around the country like blind fools waiting for your Sensativa to manifest for us to locate someone with magic who may be wearing a cloaking cuff anyway.â
âA Descendant is living in amongst a bunch of psychotic lunatics hellbent on killing their kind?â
âYep.â
âWhy?â I gasp.
âThey report to the other Nomads on anything they may need to know about, like executions, or worst-case scenario, if they discover one of the camps. They may be the only person for miles who know where Collins, Tobias or Connor are located so we donât really have much of a choice.â
âAnd Gabriel?â
He gives a curt nod.
âWonât they be hiding? The Hunterâs mark can sense the boyâs magic, so theyâll want to be steering clear of the camps, right?â
âCollins, Gabriel and Tobias probably still wear their cloaking-cuffs so they can evade the Hunterâs mark. Their faces are known though, so they do keep out of sight, but they could be anywhere. Weâll avoid towns and cities because you donât have the cloaking-cuff and your magic will be sensed if we get too close to a Hunter. Most of the morons in the masks are just vigilantes, so fingers crossed, we should be okay.â
âIs my face known?â
âEveryone thinks youâre dead, but yeah, they know your face. Thatâs another thing you might wanna prepare yourself for.â
âWhat? Not being liked? Thatâs not exactly anything new.â
âAll Iâm saying is Guy Fawkes isnât the main man when it comes to effigies to burn anymore. Donât be freaked out if you see a few redheads lighting up the streets.â
âRedhead effigies, right? Like⦠puppets or something?â Surely he doesnât mean actual people with red hair being burnt?
He slides the car into reverse and starts backing out of the parking space without answering me. âYou see a Hunter, you run. If you see the Grey-Cloak, you run fast.â
âThis Grey-Cloak has really rattled you, huh? Arenât all Hunters psychos?â
âNot like this guy.â
âWhat makes this guy so special?â
âYou donât wanna know. I mean it, you see a man in a long grey leather coat with the hood up, you do nothing else but run. Thatâs an order. Even if it means leaving me behind. You fucking run.â
âSo thatâs why heâs called the Grey-Cloak? Cos he wears a grey coat? I mean⦠itâs not very original, is it?â
âHeâs not to be laughed at, Lilly,â he snaps sharply. âHeâs as far from a joke as you can ever imagine. You see him, you-â
âRun. Yeah, I got it. Jeez.â
âAnd if someone reaches for their weapon, you donât hesitate. You hear me?â
âLoud and clear.â I raise the gun between us. â
â
With an eye roll, he drives us out of the car park. âSave the for the bad guys.â
âââ
The sunrise is beautiful to witness. We follow the sea, steering clear of towns as much as possible as we head north, towards Scotland. And so far, Iâve spent every second thinking about what the hell Iâm going to say to them all when I see them. How can I explain to Gabriel that Iâve lost our child? How do I look them all in the eye after everything Iâve done?
âYou hungry?â Dad asks.
âI guess,â I reply, still staring hypnotically out of the window. He hands me a cereal bar which I unwrap and start to eat.
âYou look like a hobo.â He gestures to his plaid shirt which hangs off me and his baggy jeans which are held up around my waist by his old and ragged belt. âYou could also do with some shoes too.â
I wriggle my sock-covered toes and look out the window. Shoes and fitting clothes are the least of my problems right now. I wring my fingers together, almost painfully, as I try to avoid the question of where the hell my baby could be. And if I even have a baby. I lower the window, hoping a good blast of cold air will help clear the turmoil of my thoughts. I reach out my hand and flex my fingers. The wind blasts through them, and the cold air makes them tingle.
âYou feeling anything yet?â Dad asks.
I shake my head and let my arm fall limp over the outside of the door. I huff and puff as we drive, loathing every second Iâm stuck in here. I canât even tell if my magic has returned unless I get to someone magic that I can syphon. My instinctual loathing of the brand Grayson seared into my arm has me scratching at it, as I always do when I let the resentment of my having it get too intense.
After a few hours, we pull off the road and into a large industrial estate filled with factories and heavy-good-vehicle garages. Or at least thatâs what they were. Most are boarded up and some are burnt shells. Dad shuts off the engine and the lights before swivelling in his seat to face me.
âWhat?â I ask, looking at the derelict site. âWhy are we stopping here?â
âThe townâs an hours walk from here. We need to leave the car as they have roadblocks. Iâll hotwire another car once we get through. Or maybe a boat,â he adds pensively.
âNo. No more boats. I need to be able to sense magic and unless Collins, Tobias or Gabriel are out at sea, I wonât sense them. We need to stay on land,â I insist. âI wonât find them out there. If youâre not comfortable with this, you donât have to come with me.â
âAlright. Keep your hair on. Land it is. Open the glove box and pass me the map, would you?â
I do. He unfolds the large A-Z, handing me a corner to hold. He surveys the various roads and starts muttering to himself.
âHuhâ¦â he says. âI wonderâ¦â
âWonder what?â
He swiftly folds the map and looks at me. âI have an idea. Câmon.â And with that, he opens the car door and heads outside.
âââ
After half an hour of walking, we stop and Dad gestures to the large metal box in front of us.
âWhatâs that?â I ask.
âA clothing bank,â he says with a shrug. âYou need clothes and itâs not like I can take you shopping. Beggars canât be choosers, Lilly.â He kneels down and starts working the lock with one of his knives. Weâre in another car park. This one is behind a supermarket and like the factories half an hour up the road, itâs closed down. Graffiti covers the walls and the windows are boarded up with sheets of plywood. I duck down when the sound of revving engines approach, but they speed straight past, too busy racing each other to notice us. I wait nervously, hidden between the clothing donation bin and the glass bottle bank.
âThere.â Dad opens the door with a creak. Plastic bags full of clothes tumble out, along with the smell of dust, sweat, rat shit and mould. âRight. You find something to wear and Iâm going to check the supermarket out. Maybe thereâs some food in there or something. You good?â
âFine,â I reply, giving one of the bags a kick. âMeet back here in a few?â
âYou got it,â he tells me. âKeep your gun handy,â he adds, heading off at a jog.
I start opening the bags. The clothes are musty. God only knows how long theyâve been in there, but thereâs plenty of choices. I find some white trainers and a pair of black jeans with a hole in the knee. Thereâs a blue tank top and a grey hoodie too. I may smell like the bottom of a wash basket, but I look relatively normal, so Iâll take the win. I also find a hair tie. I scrape my hair in a bun, pull up my hood and make sure no red hair is on show before having a final rummage and pulling out a few extra bits that may come in handy.
âExcuse me?â comes a delicate little voice.
I spin around, snatching the gun from a pile of clothes, to see a girl no older than twelve. She staggers back and clutches her chest as I point the gun in her face.
âIâm sorry!â I tell her, swiftly hiding it behind my back before raising my free hand showing her I mean no harm. âYou made me jump. Donât worry. I wonât hurt you.â Her eyes look at me wide with terror, and I canât help but notice cuts and bruises on her gaunt little face. âAre you okay?â I ask, edging towards her. âDo you need help?â I take a look around the car park. âAre your parents here?â
âNo,â she says, shaking her head so quickly her dirty blonde hair tumbles over her face. She tucks it back behind her ears. Her fingernails are filthy and there are scrapes on her knuckles.
âAre you hurt?â
She simply shrugs and starts chewing the cuff of her blue, oversized hoody. I canât stop looking at how wide her eyes are as she stares at me and how she jiggles her leg incessantly.
âWhat are you doing here on your own?â I step closer. âCan I help you get home?â
âI wondered if maybe you could give me something to eat?â she asks, her words trailing off in a high-pitched hopefulness.
âErmâ¦â I look in the direction that my dad disappeared off to a few moments ago. âI donât have anything on me right now, but my friend might have something.â I show her my softest smile. âYou wanna sit with me and wait? Heâll be back soon.â
She glances over her shoulder, to where I was looking, and then looks back to me. Her right eye twitches and her leg starts to tap even harder.
âAre you okay?â I ask again, taking another step towards her. âYou look-â
âIâm starving. How long will your friend be?â
âA few minutes.â
She grabs at her stomach and doubles over, gasping and groaning as if in terrible pain. When she falls to her knees, I rush to her side.
âYouâre not well!â I insist, trying to get her to raise her head. âI think maybe you need to get to a doctor or something.â
âIâm hungry!â she complains. âIâm so, so hungry!â
âIâll get you some food. I will! Heyâ¦â I reach out and place my hand beneath her chin to lift it. There is something seriously wrong with this little girl! âWhere did you come from? Whereâs your family?â
âFamily?â she asks, her voice twisted in pain as she hunches over even further.
âYeah. Your family? Do you have any?â
She shakes her head side to side and whispers something.
âWhat? What did you say?â I ask, leaning down closer to try and hear her better.
âI saidâ¦â Her words trail into nothing.
âLift your head, sweetie. I canât hear you.â
Her head shoots up suddenly and our noses are almost touching.
âI said,â she snarls with a crazed look in her eyes. âI killed them!â
She grabs my hand, which is still resting beneath her chin, and plunges her teeth into my flesh.
âWHAT THE FUCK!â I still have the gun in my hand and I give her a firm whack on the top of her head. She screams and falls backwards, clutching her skull. Her eyes narrow on me and fill with a savage fury. To see such evil in the eyes of someone so young is extremely disturbing. And when she roars and flashes her jagged teeth, which have my blood lodged between them, I give a yell of my own and fall backwards on my arse.
âIâM HUNGRY!â she shrieks, pouncing on top of me and desperately clawing for access to my throat. Sheâs so small but remarkably strong for her size. Her teeth clatter each time she snaps her jaws and the animalistic growling that emanates from the back of her throat makes her seem demonic!
âCHRIST!â I bellow, lunging left so she misses my neck. âSTOP! YOU CRAZY LITTLE SHIT!â
I still have my gun, but I canât shoot her! I canât! Her hands claw at me as she dribbles my blood and her saliva. I slam my forehead into her face. That seems to calm her down. She falls off me sideways, grabs her nose and scrambles to her feet. She hunches low, pivoting from foot to foot and growling at me. Iâm back on my feet too, gripping the gun.
âListen. I really donât want to shoot you, youâre just a kid-â
âIâm hungry!â she snaps, slamming her foot into the ground in a tantrum.
âWho did this to you?â I look at her, so small and painfully young. âWho made you like this? Why?â
She curls up her lip as she lowers her hand. Blood seeps from her nose. Itâs not red, but almost black. Itâs thick and oozing, falling in coagulated clumps to the ground.
âListen to me. I can help you. Tell me who did this and where they are and I can-â
âMy daddy will kill you.â
âYour daddy?â
âHeâs my master.â
âMaster?â I stand a little taller, feeling defensive at even mentioning the name. âDo you mean Grayson? Is he your master? Is he here?â I risk a quick look around before returning my attention to her. âTell me where he is!â
âMy master is a pure vampire.â
âHendrix? Is he your master?â
âHe calls me his precious one. Iâm his favourite. He said so.â
âCreepy. But okay. If youâre his favourite, why are you out here alone and starving? Why arenât you with Hendrix now?â
She doesnât answer, but I notice how she clenches her legs together and flinches when I say his name.
âYou have to be kidding meâ¦â I breathe. âLook. What heâs done to you, itâs not your fault! Him turning you into this? Him⦠hurting you-â
She screams and lunges at me. I react before I think and land her with a punch. It puts her down for a few seconds, then she staggers back to her feet and sprints at me, teeth bared, fingernails out and ready to claw.
This time Iâm ready, and as she reaches me, I leap out the way, letting her grab at nothing but air. When she turns to face me, Iâve already started my own attack. I bend low and pick her up at the waist, running forwards with her hitting and kicking me as I carry her towards the clothing bin. I toss her in and as she scrambles over the loaded bags in a desperate and cumbersome attempt to get to me, I slam the large metal door closed. She starts throwing herself against it, screeching and roaring like a furious baby demon. The padlock for the metal bin is just to the side. I stretch out my leg, flexing my toes as far as they will go while keeping the door held closed. I get it and seal her inside before falling backwards, clasping the shallow bite on my wrist. She carries on, thrashing and slamming herself into the door, making the lock dance with each thud.
âBloody hell,â I puff, taking a few beats to catch my breath. âWhat the actual fuck? Baby vampires? Really?â
When a hand rests on my shoulder, I spin around with the gun pointed and my finger on the trigger.
âWhoah!â Dad exclaims. âWhat the hellâs your problem?â
The little vampire starts screeching again, dragging Dadâs attention to the bin.
âThere one of those vamp things in there?â he asks, gesturing to the bin with a hand which clasps a white plastic carrier bag. He notices the small trickle of blood coming from my wrist and he looks furious as he reaches for his gun. âIt bit you?! Iâll kill it!â
âNo!â I insist, lowering his arm and standing between him and the bin. âNo, you canât kill her.â
âI bloody can!â he tells me. âIf we let her live, sheâll kill someone.â
âSheâs a kid,â I tell him sadly. âSheâs just a little girl. I canât let you kill a little girl. No matter she is.â
He looks past me to the bin, his gun remains poised.
âThis was done her. I wonât kill her and I wonât let you either. You hear me?â
âThatâs your final word?â
I glance back at the bin and hear her shuffling around in there.
âIt is. Câmon. Letâs get moving. We have far bigger concerns right now and I really canât have the death of a little girl on my conscience. Not along with everything else.â I nod for him to move, not entirely convinced that heâll leave her be. He stows his gun in his pocket and crouches down, picking up a bright pink tie that was in one of the bags I emptied. He stands and wraps it around my wrist, tying it tightly to stop the blood. The cutâs not deep and wonât need stitches.
âHer bite wonât turn me or anything, will it?â
He lowers his shirt, revealing his shoulder and the several bites scaring his skin.
âNah. Takes more than a bite to make you one of them.â He re-covers his shoulder. âThey file down their own teeth so they can get blood easier. Human blood makes them faster and stronger. It doesnât stop their ageing or let them heal worth a damn. Not like it does with Hendrix. I donât know the exact procedure, but I hear itâs pretty grisly. They drain their bodies of blood and then replace it with Hendrixâs. Then they get hungry, fast and bitey. Iâd be more inclined to call them zombies rather than vampires. Here.â He hands me the carrier bag. âGabriel said that no matter how crap you were feeling, you could always eat-â
âCookies,â I chuckle, pulling out a box of chocolate chip. âYeah. I can always eat those.â
âI need to change the bandage on your neck before we carry on,â he adds, nodding to the wrappings beneath my top and gesturing to the carrier bag in my hand. I look inside and see some more bandages.
âOkay. But not here. Letâs get somewhere safer.â
He takes one final look back at the clothing bin before I take his elbow and lead him away.
âDad,â I say quietly. âI canât be sure, but I think Hendrix may have hurt that little girl. Like⦠how Ryan used to hurt me.â
âYeah,â he sighs. â
â He says his name like it tastes vile to pass through his lips. âThere are some pretty hideous rumours about that freak.â
âLike what?â
âWell, it seems that Hendrix has been on a mission of late. Heâs obsessed with creating a family. Heâs been collecting.â
âCollecting?â
We both look back at the bin.
âKids are being taken from their beds and turned. He makes them kill their parents to try and sever their ties to them. Heâs claiming women as his wives and even turned a couple from the Nomad camp who were in their eighties, and started calling them his grandparents.â
âHendrix has lost it! Not that he really had in the first place, but that is insane!â I shake my head both in disgust and disbelief. âHeâs been obsessed with making more of his kind. But if heâs collecting a family, why was she out here all alone?â
âHeâs not the kindest father.â He lets out a long and uncomfortable groan which ends with him puffing out his cheeks. âOr the most appropriate.â
âOh god.â
âMany of his creations have left his leadership. But now that Grayson is back, who knows whatâs going to happen.â
I fight the urge to vomit. What I did to him, pulling out his teeth and taking away his only hope of creating more pure vampires â not the wild creatures that he and Grayson have somehow put together â has clearly sent him into a spiral of insanity. I took away his only reason for existing.
âWe canât let him carry on like this. He needs to be stopped.â
âLetâs just find this contact and get out of here in one piece. Then, when you have your magic back, we can talk about the Hendrix problem. Câmon. Letâs go.â