Page 79 of Heart of a Witch
Goose bumps spread along my arms, every hair erect as my heart sank into my stomach. This couldn’t be happening. I forced one foot in front of the other until I was at his side, grasping his hand in mine. He was warm enough, which told me there was blood still pumping through his body, but I reached up to his mouth to make sure and sighed when I felt his shallow breaths against the back of my hand.
As I pulled him up and out of the water, my jaw slacked, horror creeping through my veins, turning my blood to rage. Thick, deep cuts were slit across old scars, and chunks of skin were missing.
“Brother.” I shook him, but he didn’t respond. He could die. Sandra was the one who’d taken care of us before, but now, with his wounds this many and deep, I didn’t have anyone. Our father would never allow for the doctor to come, else he’d have called him already. No one could know about this, except for those he deemed beneath him. It didn’t matter if the servants guessed.
I searched my mind, panic seizing every part of me. There was still someone I could send for—someone I could trust, because Zerheus knew how long my brother had.
***
Victoria arrived with her brother, holding an apothecary kit, a little over an hour after I’d sent for them. Eva came in behind them and gasped. I didn’t expect her to bring the younger sister, but it didn’t matter. They were here, and that was what was important.
I held my brother in my arms, having moved him to the bed. I’d tried everything to keep him awake, but he’d barely let out a grunt. In all our punishments, I’d never seen one half as severe as this.
“Help him,” I begged, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat and Victoria looked at me, holding her fist to her mouth.
Ambrose sank beside Corbin, working with Eva on pulling out various ointments and leaves and placing them on his back. He administered a needle, while Eva fed my brother sips of water.
“Can I do something?” I asked, wringing my hands.
“Not right now,” Ambrose said, wiping the sweat from his forehead on the back of his sleeve.
Victoria rested her hand on my shoulder, sitting next to me on the sofa as I watched them. “Thank you for coming,” I said, my voice still shaking. I no longer cared if she knew—although none of them asked how this had happened—and Victoria had already guessed as much this morning.
She ran her hand from my shoulder down my back. “He’s going to live.”
I dropped my head in my hands. “I should have been here. What sort of life is this?”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself, but I know that won’t change how you feel,” she said and hung her head. “Ambrose is going to want to keep watch on him overnight.”
I ran cold. Our father would never allow them to stay with him. If he even knew they were here… No, I didn’t want anyone getting hurt by him. I had to get Corbin away from here. Even if he cut us off for leaving and sold the club anyway, as he liked to shove in my face, it was all in his name. I could still make a name for myself. I was business savvy. Corbin was old enough to help. I’d find a way, and once he was out of here, I would come back and teach our father for ever laying a hand on him—on us.
“You can come to our home,” she said slowly, as if she could sense my reservations. “We can take Corbin in a carriage once he’s well enough to withstand the ride.”
I looked at my brother, drooped over Eva’s lap, her hands in his black curls. “If he will be. He’s sustained a lot of injuries.”
“More reason why we should get him out of here.”
I couldn’t agree with her more. “We will take him in a couple of hours, once night falls.” I stood, balling my fists. “I’ll make sure none of you are interrupted. I need to take care of something.”
“Elijah.” She grabbed my hand.
“I’ll be back,” I said, pulling my hand from hers. I did not look back as I stormed for the door.
***
It was an hour until my father arrived back at the study. I held the whip—still wet with my brother’s blood—in one hand and curled my other into a fist. He walked inside, pushing his graying-blond hair out of his face. “Elijah.” His gaze landed on the whip. “Have you come to hurt me?”
“You have some fucking nerve.”
He shook his head, sighing as he poured himself water. As if my threat meant nothing. “I did what had to be done. Your brother will thank me one day.”
I took a step forward, my jaw clenched. “Are you joking? You should see him. You could have killed him.”
“You know better than anyone that my punishments always fit the crime.”
“What crime was worthy of such brutality?”
“Witchcraft.”
