Page 80 of Heart of a Witch
I froze, rage licking through my every vein. “I should have expected nothing less. What did he do? Cross paths with a black cat? Throw a dramair into a well for luck? Everything is fucking witchcraft to you.”
His eyes darkened, making the scars around them more pronounced. “I found a hexed bag under my mattress. It had been there for some time.” He scowled, pulling it out of a small wooden trunk on his shelf.
I looked at the pouch and then the contents when he poured it out. “What the—”
“Your brother has been practicing. Don’t ask me for how long, but I know he has. A servant found a grimoire in his room. You’re lucky a whipping is all he got. I could have put him on trial, even executed him for his crimes, but I showed him mercy. He is, after all, still my son.”
I white-knuckled the whip. “You’re insane, and that servant was mistaken. He wouldn’t be involved with witchcraft, and even if he was, it doesn’t mean anything. He’s not a witch, so he can’t do magic.”
“He can call upon them, summon demons into this world. There are rituals in the grimoire meant for it.”
“He wouldn’t do that, and it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t deserve to be beaten to an inch of his life.”
He slammed his fists against the tray holding his water jug. “He deserves what I say he damn well deserves. That hexed bag was meant to harm me. I’ve been getting nightmares every night—unable to sleep well. It’s only when I slept downstairs and didn’t suffer did I realize there was something wrong with my bed, so I searched and found the bag. It contained my hair.” He drank his whole glass of water, gripping it so tight, I was worried it would break in his hand. “Your brother sought revenge against me because he thinks he’s being singled out. How much further would he have gone? Corbin may have summoned a demon or harmed others. One taste of witchcraft can send a man crazy. That one hexed bag wouldn’t have been enough. I told you he had these tendencies in his blood, but no one listened to me.”
“You still can’t know it was him.”
“I know it was him. I wouldn’t have beat my own son if I believed someone else might have been responsible.”
“Bullshit.”
“Watch your language.”
“Or what? You’ll punish me? You can fucking try.” I squared my shoulders, challenge glittering my eyes.
“You’re a big man now, is that right?” He laughed, taking one step closer. “I don’t punish without good reason. If you hurt me, then you are the monster. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You never do, do you?” I took a step, closing the distance between us. “Corbin could have died.” I lifted the whip in the air, anger pulsing through every inch of me. “How would you like it? Being whipped to an inch of your life?” I swiped it through the air and it sliced against his face. I pulled it away, trailing my gaze along the wound bleeding from his eye to the corner of his mouth. He cupped his cheek, looking at me through wide eyes.
Before he could say anything else, I punched him in the nose, feeling his bone crunch under my knuckles. Blood spattered everywhere and he bent over, holding his face. “We’re leaving.” I threw the whip down. “Feel lucky that’s all you got.”
“S-son.” The wobble in his voice paused me if only for a second, but I forced myself out the door, rubbing my knuckles as I ordered two carriages to be prepared.
I had no idea where we’d go after tomorrow, but we had a place to stay tonight. I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to hurt someone we cared about—though that list was short, for that reason—or send the church after us. The high priest would be coming soon, and he wouldn’t want what happened to become public knowledge.
Victoria glanced at my hand when I reached the room. “I assume we’ll be leaving now.”
“I’ll pack us both a bag.” I looked at Ambrose. “Any news?”
He shook his head and again wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “We’ve stopped the bleeding, and we’re giving him water. He will recover, but it will take some days before he can stand again.”
“Thank you, truly, for coming.” I closed my mouth, not knowing what else to say. How else could I express my gratitude? I’d already propositioned Ambrose in his shop the day I went to see Victoria, offering for him to become a doctor and that I’d pay for all the training, but he’d refused.
Eva stormed over to me, pointing a finger at my chest. “Where’s your dad? I know he’s the one who did this. Corbin confided in me all his secrets. I’m going to hurt him and see how he likes it.”
“Don’t,” I said quickly, a breath catching in my throat. I dreaded to think what he’d do to her if she threatened him. “He’s been taken care of.”
She bared her teeth. She was Victoria, but on cocaine. “Youshould have taken care ofhima long time ago. This is your fault too.”
“Eva.” Victoria scorned, but I bowed my head.
“She’s right.”
Eva’s face reddened, and her nails bit into her palms. “I know I am. Pray your brother recovers.” She spun on her heel, her dark ponytail swishing behind her. “Or I won’t hesitate to make sure your dad never hurts anyone again.”
I watched her walk away, feeling smaller with each step. Despite all the hurt and anger, I was glad Corbin had found a friend who truly cared about him—even if she hated me.
Victoria stepped to my side, giving her sister a look. “Emotions are running a little high. Excuse my little sister.”
