The Witch Hunter (5 page)

"Wait," Sam said, holding his annoyance in check. "Start from the beginning. You killed Alistair? How?"

"I challenged him to a duel," Zac said sarcastically. "Slapped him with a leather riding glove and everything. Very authentic. Then I staked him."

"Zac..." he scolded.

"That,
brother
, was the truth. I challenged him to a fight to the death. Book smarts won over brute strength," he said, tapping his temple. 

Sam closed his eyes and held his head in his hands, fed up, "And what if he'd killed you? Did you stop to think about us?"

Zac took a long draught of scotch straight from the bottle, "Yes, I thought about it. This was my issue to deal with, Sam. I did this to protect everyone. I did what I had to do."

"You could have warned me," he said quietly.

"And you would have stopped me," Zac replied sarcastically. 

"Well, that's just great," Sam shook his head. "Murderous vampires and now dead witches? Geesus."

"Can you see into the fucking future, Sam, because I sure can't," he yelled, the now empty bottle smashing into the large fireplace, the remnants of alcohol flaring in the flames. "He wouldn't have stopped until we were either dead or exposed. Killing him was my only option."

"And this witch?" he asked calmly, trying not to exacerbate his brothers mood.

"She claimed to be a founding witch named Katrin. But, she was transparent," he sighed, sharply. "Very much dead and ghostly. Dripping with ectoplasm."

Sam shook his head and contemplated this, "You could have come to me, Zac. We could have found another way. One without killing."

"Well, I'm so sorry I can't be the kindhearted human wannabe vampire you so desperately want me to be," Zac seethed. "Guess what, brother. We're
vampires
. We fight, we hunt and we
kill
. It's what we are."

"There's always an alternative, Zac. You just have to be open to hearing it." 

"You might be content in fighting your true nature, but I've made my peace Sam. I understand what I am, even if you don't," he walked across the room before turning around. "I will speak to Gabby in the morning. You can stay out of it if that's what you want." He left the room, leaving Sam to make his own decision, his mind already made up.

Gabby wasn't too pleased about been woken up at eight am on a Sunday morning, even less pleased to hear Zac's voice. Pleading wasn't his thing, so he suggested it might be a good idea to help him, being guilty by association. She'd reluctantly agreed to come over to the manor once she was ready.

Zac was already into the alcohol by the time his brother had woke. He was riled up already and he had a feeling it was going to be a trying day and that meant he needed all the calming down he could get. And he was getting hungry. He sat heavily on the couch, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling. Dead witches pretty much took the cake so far. They'd never encountered so many supernaturals in one place before. Witches, vampires, werewolves and now ghosts. Next it would be voodoo spirit lords and Aztec witch doctors. 

"I'm surprised to see you here, brother," Zac looked up as Sam sat across from him.

"We're brothers, Zac. You're shit is my shit," he replied firmly.

"And so eloquently put," he scoffed.

Sam snorted as they heard the front door close and footsteps approaching down the hall. Gabby strode in, carrying her grimore in her arms. The tattered book that was over five hundred years old, protected by magic from deteriorating and falling apart. 

She flopped down on the leather armchair and said with a hint of sarcasm, "This better be worth giving up my Sunday for."

"Long story short," Zac announced. "I killed Alistair, his dead witchy overlord appeared out of thin air proclaiming that she was the founding witch Katrin, whatever that means, and that I will die a long and horrible death. Thoughts?"

Gabby stared at him in surprise, not expecting a tirade of that magnitude. At least not one that included the words 'founding witch'. She looked slowly to Sam, who nodded. Well, at least it was a truthful tirade.

"Well," she began, opening the grimore carefully.

"Is there anything in your diary about this Katrin?" Zac swirled his drink around in his glass.

Gabby glared at him and turned back to the grimore, turning the pages. "There's a passage about the founding witches and the one who broke her covenant with them," she stated. "Katrin. She betrayed her sisters for power and created a creature that could do her bidding long after she had passed. Vampires. She bound them to herself, so they would follow her for eternity."

"She seemed to believe that she had created Alistair herself," Zac said.

"Then maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she is one of the founding witches," Sam said. "She was an apparition, so maybe her spirit still lives, that's why Alistair was bound to her."

"And how she knew he was dead," Zac added.

"If she is, then she would be strong enough to do it. The founders were the beginning, the most powerful of us,
ever
. But why would she create vampires?" Gabby agreed with Sam's conclusion. It made the most sense.

"To do her dirty work," Zac sneered.

"Probably, but I don't think that was the only reason," Gabby shook her head. "Why create a predator who needs blood to survive who can only walk in the night, when all you need is someone to do your bidding after you're dead?"

"You're right, it doesn't make sense, but all we need to know is how to get rid of her," Zac pointed out, exasperated. "I'd rather be the one doing the hunting, not the other way round."

"You don't want to know anything about the first vampires?" Sam was surprised.

"Why? We've been doing okay. The more we meet, the more trouble we get in."

"Don't you mean, the more you piss off the more trouble I get in?" Sam said, seriously.

"You're the one who chose to come along for the ride," he sneered. "Don't have a cry now."

Gabby sighed loudly, "If you two are finished bickering like children, I have more."

"Do please enlighten us, Glinda," Zac rolled his eyes.

"Right," Gabby stood and began gathering her things. "If you don't want my help, you just have to say so. I have better things to do than take shit from you."

Sam stood hastily and said, "Gabby, I'm sorry. We do need your help. Please stay." He turned and glared at Zac who shrugged.

"What?" he asked, annoyed. 

Gabby sat back down with an exasperated sigh; "There's a summoning spell in the grimore that caught my attention."

"And what does it summon?" Zac asked.

"The one known as the Witch Hunter," Gabby flipped to the page and began to read. "The one betrayed by their own. The one who punishes the ones turned evil, the hunter of witches who would do harm. Cast this call and perchance the hunter will deign to speak."

"You want us to summon a witch hunter?" Zac laughed at the notion.

"It's all I got," she shrugged. "But there is a warning that goes along with it. The Witch Hunter is a very old and powerful vampire, unpredictable and only serves their own end."

"Well, they sound like a riot," Zac snorted.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Sam said, warily. "It could do more harm than good."

"From what I can tell, the Witch Hunter helped my ancestor, the one who wrote the spell. For a vampire to help a witch, that's kind of a big deal," she looked pointedly at Zac, who glared at her in return.

"Is there anything else about them?" asked Sam.

"Not much, but this spell was written in 1542. It's one of the first in the book and one of the only ones I can read," she said, not mentioning that she thought it was an omen. For good or bad, she didn't know. "The story goes that the church and crown in Wales passed through a law naming witchcraft as a felony and those found practicing would face punishment of death. The first law of its kind. The witch who wrote the spell was accused, having been framed by another witch, who was using her power for evil. Exploiting the townspeople, summoning devils and monsters. This is what drew the Witch Hunter to the village. They formed a tentative alliance and under the cover of darkness the Hunter tore the devils to pieces and stole the evil witches light."

"What does that mean?" asked Sam, intrigued by the story. "Stole her light?"

"They probably took her power. Anyway, the Hunter left a trail of mutilated bodies in their wake, horrifying the good witch. The next morning some angry townsfolk, who had been spying on them, tore her from her bed. She had no trial and was tied to a wooden pole at the centre of the village. They intended to burn her for the crime of witchcraft and murder, for they believed it was she that had summoned the devils. As the flames grew around her, the Witch Hunter came back and saved her from the fire and took her far away from the angry mob to live out her days without fear of exposure. She married and had a family and passed the grimore to her daughter."

"It seems that the Hunter has a heart, at least," Sam said absently.

"If you call tearing apart devils, mutilating their bodies and stealing witches power,
having a heart
, then we have a serious problem," Gabby exclaimed, snapping the grimore shut.

"Pfft, it's just a story," scoffed Zac.

"It's meant to serve as a warning," Gabby scolded. "One you would do well to heed."

"Do it," he said. "Damn the consequences."

"No," Sam said warily, shaking his head. "Rushing headlong into situations like this is what got us into this in the first place."

"Can you banish a founding witches spirit for eternity, let alone find her?" he asked both of them. When they remained silent he said, "Thought so."

"I'll do it," Gabby sighed. "Just know that I'm reluctant, but I'm helping you anyway. You owe me, Zac."

"And we thank you for that," Sam said pointedly, understanding what Gabby was sacrificing to help them. Witches and vampires had been at war for hundreds of years; that they had become friends in the first place was a miracle.

"What do you need to do for the spell?" Zac asked, interrupting Sam.

"It's part potion and incantation," she replied, reading through the pages again. 

"Okay, so it's an outdoorsy thing," he said.

"If you want. The spell will leave a calling card of sorts, attached to the place it was cast. It would lead the Witch Hunter here, if here was the place we chose to do it," Gabby explained, leaving the choice up to the brothers.

"The old cemetery," Zac said. "I don't want any witchy residue in the house."

"I have to go get a few things. I will meet you there in an hour or so." Gabby slipped the grimore into her bag and made for the front door, not waiting for an answer. She hardly believed that she had been roped into helping them. When Liz found out, she'd be furious.

The cemetery was located on the edge of the main manor grounds, off to the side of the original plantation. Over one up hundred and fifty years, the land had been reclaimed by nature, the swampland encroaching back to its original form. 

Most of the cemetery itself was overgrown; falling out of repair as the locals began to forget it ever existed. It was full of people who had died over a hundred and fifty years ago, many Degaud plots among the headstones, their family having been one of the first families to have settled in the region. The cemetery was technically located on private property, which was mostly the reason for the lack of upkeep. A space was cleared at the centre, which Gabby had worked on herself months before the brothers had returned to Ashburton, the place she came to learn her powers and be alone.