Page 51 of Heart of a Witch
“I expected you to question me on why I don’t want to become a hunter.”
She shrugged. “Why would I question that? It’s barbaric.”
My forehead wrinkled. “You’re the first person to say so in this town.”
“I don’t like the idea of murder, no matter the justification.”
I sucked on my cigar, then blew out a circle of smoke. “I don’t condone murder either, but witches aren’t exactly people. No matter, that’s not the reason I don’t want to do it. It’s just not my calling, and I think sometimes innocent people get tied up in these trials, even people who aren’t witches.”
“I see your point,” she replied with a strained tone. “Why can’t you choose to do something else?”
“It’s my father’s legacy.”
“So he wants you to follow the same path,” she stated.
“Exactly.”
“I assume you have a good reason for not just saying ‘no.’”
“I’m glad someone understands.” I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Have you tried changing his mind?”
I nodded. “It was a mistake.”
“I think you shouldn’t give up so easily.”
“I wish it were so simple.”
She touched the side of my cheek, and I turned to look at her darkened features. “There’s always a way to get what we want; we just need to want it bad enough.”
My lips parted. “I expect you’re the type who always gets what she wants.”
She blinked twice. “If that were true, then I wouldn’t be here.”
“What do you mean?”
She pulled back, hesitance in her voice. “I mean, if my parents hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be here.”
I drank a few gulps of the scotch, sucked in a fiery breath, and handed her the bottle. “It seems we both need a drink.”
She took hers, then wiped her mouth. “Why did you abandon our plans the other day?”
“Would you believe me if I said it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me?”
“Yes. I don’t see why I would be the problem.”
I laughed. “Have you heard of the word humble?”
She nudged my side. “Yes, but what I have is called self-worth.”
“Can I get some more of that scotch?”
She tinkled the bottle. “I think it’s empty.”
My eyes widened. “We finished it already?”
We both snickered. I finished my cigar and stood. I hadn’t expected the alcohol to hit me so hard. “Would you like to dance, my lady?” My words began slurring at the ends.
