The Witch Hunter (25 page)

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Authors: Nicole R. Taylor

BOOK: The Witch Hunter
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While they waited for news from Sam, Zac convinced Aya to help him bury the desiccated vampires in the yard. Between them both, it didn't take long to dig holes deep enough to conceal them for a very long time. Graves were something Zac had become familiar with over the years.

"Why are your eyes white, really?" he asked, when Aya made it clear she wasn't going to speak to him.

She sighed loudly, "Because they are."

He frowned, "Why won't you tell me anything about yourself?"

"There's nothing you'd want to know. I'm a vampire. Plain and simple. Why are your eyes green and mine blue? Because that's the way we were made. The end."

"You've heard more things about me in the last few days than Sam had heard in his entire life." He tossed his shovel aside, annoyed at her evasion and wiped his dirty hands on his jeans.

"I never once asked you to divulge your secrets, but you did anyway," she glared, leaning on her shovel.

"Yeah, you practically beat them out of me, Aya," he scoffed, remembering the night they'd spent at the motel. He wasn't quite himself then, coming down from the disgusting high of stalking human blood. "You can walk into any human house without being invited, the sun doesn't bother you in the slightest, your eyes are fucking white and you seem to know where the hell I am before I even get there. Who the hell are you, Aya? You're like a fucking ghost."

"I don't owe you anything, Zac. Least of all an explanation."

"Of course you don't." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Don't worry about me, when you've got your own problems to deal with." Her tone was sharp and he flinched.

"Thanks for reminding me, Aya. Real smooth."

She sighed heavily and sat down on the bench. "It's always been about control, Zac. You may be good at killing, but it’s not all of who you are."

"You don't need to tell me this," he groaned, sitting beside her. He didn't really want to hear it, but assumed he was going to anyway.

"It's about control for all of us. Some choose to harness it, some choose to relinquish it. It is the intent that separates good from evil," she sniffed, looking at the sky. "Why do you hold onto your humanity?"

Zac shrugged, remaining silent.

"It's for Sam's sake, isn't it?" She peered out the corner of her eye, judging his reaction.

He was scowling, looking at his hands. Finally, he said, "I don't want to be this monster, but I can't help myself."

"You have to do it for yourself," Aya sighed. "You might think you're doing Sam a favor, but you're not. If you don't want it, then you're making it harder than you need to. You
can
help yourself."

He was still looking at his hands, wringing them as she spoke. Looking at him warily, Aya hoped she hadn't over-stepped any boundaries in laying it out like that. She sensed Zac's humanity had been balanced on a knifes edge for days now. When she realized he was done discussing it, she said, "Tell me, what would you have done after the Civil War?"

"I don't know," he frowned. He would have continued in the army, perhaps. Joined the new United States. Maybe as a Confederate they would have taken him and put him on trial instead. It wasn't something he was at liberty to think about once he had turned. That life was gone.

"That's the best answer anyone could ever hope for," Aya turned to look at him, pointedly.

He was confused. "What do you mean?" 

She shrugged. "If you don't know, then you could do anything."

Zac sat a moment, trying to process the notion. His life had been taken away from him, but he still had a say as to what he did next. He'd always believed that Victoria had taken all of his choices and left him to be the only person he knew how to be. A monster. But maybe, he could be more than that. If only he knew how.

He hesitantly reached out to touch her hand that rested on the back of the bench, Aya eyeing him warily as he did. She edged back ever so slightly, so slight that only his vampire eyes could see the gesture. Her expression was blank as they stared at each other, until her eyes unfocused and her body became rigid. 

"Zac..." she said with a sharp note of panic. Then she was gone. 

Zac sat dumbfounded for a moment. She'd disappeared. Not like she had done before, where she'd moved too fast for him to stop, but
vanished
. Regardless, he still got up from the bench and searched the house, calling her name. Finally stopping in the study, he roared and sent the papers that littered the desk flying, his face in his hands.

They had been so
stupid
. Katrin was coming for Aya, she didn't want him anymore. Her voice had been one of surprise and panic like she didn't understand what was happening and he was powerless to stop it.

Aya had vanished into thin air.

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

G
abby stomped up the six flights of stairs to her apartment. It sat on top of a small complex of twelve, in a leafy street surrounded by large family homes and smaller cottages that dated back to pre-civil war days. A horror of 1970s architecture in an otherwise beautiful street. She was a mere six blocks from the town center, and seven blocks from the Real Estate office where she worked. The view stretched for miles, but there wasn't really anything to see other than the surrounding houses and forest. Despite all of this, she loved her place. What she didn't love was the six flights of stairs.

Her mind was in turmoil over her conversation with Aya. She'd come straight home from the manor, wanting to be alone, extremely frustrated with herself. How could she find her Grandmother? Who knew where she was and if she was even still alive?

She put her bag on the kitchen bench with the grimore beside it and went through to the bedroom, via the bathroom. The apartment was an odd layout. The bathroom connected to the kitchen on one side and through to a small walk-through closet, before emerging into the bedroom. The kitchen and lounge area were all in one. Large windows lined the far walls, long blue drapes pulled open, letting the late afternoon light into the apartment. 

Pulling off her sweater and hanging it in the closet, Gabby stilled as she heard a dull thud. Her attention was drawn back through to the kitchen. It could have been her neighbor banging about across the way, but it had sounded like it had come from inside her apartment. Shaking her head, she dismissed the notion, positive she had locked the door behind her. 

Walking back through the bathroom, Gabby stopped to splash cold water on her face to calm herself down a bit. Gazing at her reflection for a moment, she sighed. What did Aya expect her to do? She wasn't powerful. Hell, she couldn't even scry or control anything wilder than a gentle breeze. 

Peering at herself in the mirror, she blinked when she saw her image waiver. Rubbing her eyes, she frowned when it did it again. What the hell? 

Her head snapped towards the kitchen as she heard the same thumping sound through the door. Panicking, she pressed her ear against the wood, listening. It had come from her apartment, she was positive. Someone was in here with her.

Wildly looking around the bathroom, she couldn't find anything substantial she could use as a weapon. The only option was a can of hairspray. She took a deep breath and edged the door open a crack, peering through. The kitchen was empty, her bag still on the bench.

Gabby edged herself through the door, her heart beating so fiercely, it was a wonder it didn't give her away. If it had been a vampire in here, it would, but first she would have to invite one in. This had to be a human.

The kitchen was clear, so she discarded the hairspray and pulled the largest knife from the block as silently as she could aiming it in front of her as she edged along the wall to the lounge. Leaning around the corner, holding her breath, she gasped as she saw a dark figure of a man leaping out of the window, the drapes billowing inwards, the wind outside having picked up. 

Running forward, Gabby lent out of the window. That was a three story drop and the guy had just jumped!  When she looked for him below, no one was there. He'd vanished. 

“Shit,” she cursed and ran back towards the kitchen. The grimore! 

Knocking her bag onto the floor in her haste, she groaned, tears sliding down her face. It was
gone
. Panicked, she paced back and forth. What should she do? Who had taken it? Even as she asked herself, she already knew the answer to that question. Katrin was behind this. There was no one else.

Suddenly, there was a splitting pain behind her eyes that made her cry out. Doubling over, she grasped the edge of the kitchen counter, gasping for breath. Her head felt like it was literally tearing open. Sinking to the floor, groaning, she realized that someone had been spying on her. The ache in her head a clue that her mind had been used against her.

No, that wasn't quite right. Gabby had been used
as
the spy. The only reason they would go for the grimore was because of her conversation with Aya. There would be nothing special about hers that distinguished it from another witches other than... The summoning spell. Oh,
shit
.

Gabby's reflection was the clue that led her to believe that she had been used as a looking glass for Katrin. There was no harm in using her energy to dispel herself. If she was wrong, then nothing would happen. If she was right, then she'd break the spell.

Holding her head in her hands, she drew her knees close and began to chant. The pain still tore through her skull, trying to erase her memory, she assumed. Abruptly, she felt all the air sucked from her body and gasped, trying to draw in new oxygen, spots pricking her vision.

Gabby's eyes snapped open as she came to. She was lying on her side on the kitchen floor, shivering, the lounge room window still open, her bag on the floor. She'd passed out. Rubbing her eyes and sitting up slowly, she felt much better. The spell had gone. Groaning, she realized what she had allowed to happen.

She'd been used as a spy and now the grimore was gone.

Gabby jumped when there was a sharp knock at the door. Dragging herself up, she looked through the peephole and her shoulders sagged in relief. Throwing open the door, she burst into tears.

"Sam!" Gabby cried in relief as he stepped inside. "Someone was here, I..."

"It's all right," he embraced her. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes," she stammered.

"What happened?"

"Katrin cast a spell on me in my sleep. She was using me to spy," she sobbed.

"Was?" he asked, carefully.

"She's not here anymore, I took care of it."

Frowning, he walked through the apartment, checking every corner, finally looking out the open window to the ground below. Closing it behind him, he sighed.

"Sam," Gabby said, worried. "Today, I was with Aya."

"What did you say Gabby? What does Katrin know?" Sam grabbed her shoulders, suddenly panicked.

"The summoning spell," she said, panic in her voice. "They took the grimore."

 

 

"What do you mean her grimore was stolen?!" Zac yelled into his cell. He paced back and forth as Sam tried to calm him down on the other end. They were on their way back to the manor. Sam and that god damn witch, Gabby. "How the hell did they get in?"

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