Page 45 of The Witch's Heart
My hand flies to my mouth to stifle the cry that builds in my throat.
I look up at him, shocked. “This is my flat,” I say. “The entire building…”
“Burned down,” he finishes, twirling his drink in his hand. He watches me with all the curiosity of a scientist overlooking his experiment. I want to throw my drink at him.
“Who did this?” I ask, and my first reaction is to blame him. But deep down, I know what he’s going to say.
“You did, Celeste.”
“No.”
The single word is more a plea than a denial. It can’t be true.
“I would remember,” I argue.
But he goes on. “The night you attempted to take your own life, you unleashed something. A power that you’ve kept hidden and strangled for so long. I suspect the moment your life force began slipping away, that power spilled up and out. Quite like a firework, I imagine.” He nods to the photos. “Unfortunately, your neighbor, Miss Cartwright, lacked the speed and mobility to exit the building before it was consumed by the flames.”
“No,” I say again, heart aching as I imagine it.
Miss Cartwright—Helen—was elderly and lived across the hall. She had arthritis in her knees and hands. I often volunteered to refill her medications to save her a painful trip out.
And now she’s dead. Because of me.
“I’m a murderer,” I say, remembering Dr. Livingstone’s words.
“You’re new to all this. Undisciplined in your own capabilities. I remember what that feels like. A power like yours, unchecked—when I was first turned, I slaughtered entire families before my sire taught me control.”
I can only stare at him in horror at such a casual admission and I strain to identify the markers that would prove he’s a vampire, as he is apparently claiming. I should no longer be shocked at such revelations--after all, wasn’t it Declan who said we are all monsters here? But still, his cavalier admission is like a slap in the face. “You killed them on purpose?”
He smiles, but it’s nothing more than a flash of teeth. A sardonic, cruel expression. “My parents weren’t as kind as yours, I’m afraid. Father made it clear the only way I would be worthy of what he’d made me into was by a show of strength—of blood and bone.”
“Your father encouraged you to slaughter innocent people like animals?”
“On the contrary, he required it.”
He smiles as if we’re discussing something as trivial as the weather. “You, on the other hand, have led a life sheltered from hard things. And in that shelter, you became naïve. Unaware of what you were capable of. And that lack of awareness made you clumsy. That’s whyLe Rêveis the best place for you.”
I ignore the way he’s just compared us, trying to make me seem like him.
But I can no longer deny there is something more to me. Something not human. Just like there is more to Cutter and all of the others he’s locked inside these walls.
“Is everyone here a witch, werewolf, or vampire?” I still can’t believe I’m saying these words out loud in all seriousness.
“Yes.”
“Even the staff?”
“Of course. I would not want to see harm come to a human caught in the crossfire.”
I think of Helen but immediately push the painful thoughts away.
“Right. I’m sure human safety is your main concern.”
“Yoursafety is my main concern.”
“Is that why you’re holding me here against my will?”
“At first, ensuring you remained here was imperative for your safety, but there is also the safety of another at risk if you go.”
