Page 17 of Heart of a Witch
“Now,” I snapped, unable to answer her. “We leave in ten minutes.”
She turned and ran, and Cas leaned over our mother.
“Cas.” I grabbed his shoulder. “Bag the essentials and any dramair we have lying around. We need all the money we can get. Get your traveling cloak and Mother’s. Leave everything else behind.”
He nodded, glanced at our mother who’d curled into a ball by the door, and swept up the stairs. There was no point trying to get her to pack anything. She could barely breathe as it was.
I cleared my throat. “We’re leaving. You have ten minutes to cry before you need to get it together.” I glanced at Alex when she appeared at the top of the stairs, a satchel in her hand and wearing her cloak. “For Alex and Cas.”
I didn’t wait to see if my words affected her. I ran up the stairs and grabbed my snakes, my coin purse, and a change of clothes, then ran back down to the front door.
I grabbed the keys from the hook by the door and ran to the shop at the end of the drive. I forced them into the lock, then practically fell into our store. My gaze found the charms Ember had made. I grabbed a charm and shoved it into my pocket—a piece of her—then ran to the safe.
I pulled out all our savings. Years of our family’s work were reduced to being escape money. Bitterness curled my frown. I bagged the dramair and hurried outside. There was no point in locking the door. They’d break it down once they saw we were gone.
I glanced back one last time before gesturing to my brother to come to meet me. Alex walked behind him, and my mother a step behind her, her blotchy red face a picture of despair. Grief crippled me with every step. I felt as if I were living in a dream, going through the motions, barely able to keep a hold of each moment before it passed into another. All I knew was we had to keep going.
Barely twenty minutes had passed when we reached the club. The door hung from the hinges, and in the distance, the townspeople cheered as more witches were hung from the gallows, one by one, to make an example of us. All of them were murderers, supposedly, when only a few I knew of were.
As we creeped inside, my boots crunched atop a broken bottle of liquor. Alex pulled her black curls into a high ponytail to get it out of her face. Sweat slicked her forehead. She pulled up the hood of her cloak. “Where are we going after this?”
I eyed Cas and Mother, who were sifting through the bags and slips to find more dramair. We couldn’t go to our aunt’s, two towns over. The entire family would be under threat. I’d have to send them a letter, if it ever reached them in time. We had to get out of town, but then we’d need a carriage. It was late. “We’re going to a hotel.”
She gave me a look. “Here?”
“No. Dawnridge,” I said. “It’s far enough not to be searched straight away, big enough to disappear in, if temporarily, and unexpected. The witch hunter will think we’ll flee to a small village.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because that’s what weshoulddo.”
Her eyebrows knitted together, but I stepped away before I could be bombarded with more questions. We had no room for compromise. Each decision could cost us our lives. I had to think like the hunter. I had to do the opposite of what he expected us to do, because once he was done with the witches from the club, we’d be next.
Six
Elijah
Kicking an empty bottle across the marble floor, I sighed. “Ignore the mess.” I scowled in the direction of the housekeeper. “The help has been slacking since my father left town.”
She glared back, then inhaled sharply. “I will get this cleared up immediately, Mr. Shaw.”
Charles grimaced. “Corbin back on the bottle again?”
I shook my head, eyeing the empty scotch bottle, discarded for anyone to find. He was lucky we owned the police in Redforest; otherwise, he’d be arrested for it. Alcohol has been illegal for as long as I could remember, and our father absolutely despised it, calling it demon water. “I’ll deal with my brother later.”
Charles smirked. He ran his finger around his ear and then briefly along his slick, dark hair. “We’re on our tenth housekeeper.” I glanced at his shoes, which had been shined to death, enough to reflect the chandelier above our heads. “They keep stealing from us.”
His family was the second most prestigious in our corner of the kingdom, next to mine. He picked up the black invitation discarded on the side table in the lobby and grinned. “Only a week until you turn twenty-one.” He turned it over, reading the gold calligraphy. “A party in the honor of Mr. Elijah Shaw.” He enunciated in a voice that sounded too posh to suit even him.
I hit his shoulder, then pulled the card from his hand. “My father demands the best. He wanted the ball.”
“Naturally. I suppose we won’t just be honoring your birthday but also your new title. Won’t be you be Sir Elijah Shaw next week?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “What can I say, the king acknowledges excellence when he sees it.”
“Excellence?” He laughed. “What did you do again, to deserve this title? Then again, I suppose you don’t really have to do anything to get one, lucky sod.”
I paused. I hadn’t technically done anything. They said I was getting it for being a community leader, whatever that meant. “I need to get going soon. Need to go to the club,” I said, changing the topic.
