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The Last Witch: Volume One: Chapter 6


I’m trembling as I hold out both my arms straight ahead of me.

My fists are clenched. My fingernails digging into my palms so deep I can feel blood.

I look straight ahead, trying my hardest not to show how afraid I am.

But I shake violently. And my breathing is nothing less than panting.

‘Ten,’ Harry snarls as he points my aunts riding crop at me.

‘Ten, and you will count, girl.’

He takes my hands and twists them, so the soft skin of my underarm is exposed.

He raises the cane above his head, his face contorted in hatred, before he brings it down on my arms with as much force as he can muster.

I don’t hold back as I scream.

‘COUNT!’

‘ONE!’ I cry.

‘Lilly. Lilly…wake up, sweetheart,’ Grayson’s voice echoes over my counting and the crack of the cane breaking my skin. His words pull me from my nightmare and back to the waking world.

When I feel a hand on my shoulder, I lash out, hitting whoever’s touching me in a desperate bid to get them away. My magic erupts in a violent pulse, and I hear a smash.

Grayson yells.

I open my tired eyes to find I’m still in the kitchen, tucked up on the floor with my head on my knees.

Grayson’s mug of coffee has exploded all over him. He’s busy wiping the scalding liquid off his hands and doesn’t see that the curtains by the patio doors are alight with my black and white fire. When he sees me staring at them in horror, he turns.

‘I got them.’ He kicks open the door, rips the curtains down and tosses them outside before turning back to me with a quick exhale of breath. ‘Bad dream?’

Reaching down, he helps me to my feet as I stumble over my words, desperately apologising.

‘It’s fine,’ he insists. ‘No harm done, Lilly. I assure you. You may owe the curtains an apology, however,’ He looks down at his soaked white shirt. ‘And my dry cleaner.’ He’s wearing a suit again, but there’s not a trace of blood to be seen. He lifts his head, his eyes twinkling as he sees me. ‘I am very glad to see you.’

Collins comes charging into the kitchen looking ready to fight and scans the room until he settles his eyes on me. I sidestep behind Grayson, unashamedly using him as a human shield.

‘It’s alright, Collins. We’re fine,’ Grayson tells him firmly, gesturing to the door where he appeared from. ‘You can go.’

He leaves, and Grayson turns back to me. ‘You’re alright. He won’t hurt you. He was making sure we were safe, that’s all. That’s all any of us want for you. To be safe.’ He runs his hand down my arm, and I shrink back as he touches me. He lifts his hands an inch from my skin reading my reaction. ‘Sorry. Of course. Your haphephobia. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.’

‘Grayson! Your hand!’ His skin is badly burnt from grabbing the flaming curtains. ‘I’m so sorry. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I was having a nightmare and my magic…sometimes it just… I’m sorry!’

Shit!

I start panicking, and it gets harder to breathe.

‘It’s okay. I’m not mad, or hurt.’ The cupboards begin to shake. ‘Hey, hey,’ he comforts. ‘You’re absolutely fine. Calm down. I know it was an accident.’

I take a breath and close my eyes. When I open them, he’s bending down to pick up the bottle of wine I found last night. And drank.

‘Did you drink all this?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologising.’ He puts the bottle on the counter and pours another coffee. ‘Do you take milk?’

‘No,’ I say quietly, embarrassed at passing out on his kitchen floor. He hands me a big black coffee. Perfect. It’s a taste I haven’t had in a long, long time.

‘I was worried when you weren’t in your room. Hendrix came to tell me you were asleep on my kitchen floor. He was a tad nervous about waking you up. Did you get enough rest?’

‘I’m sorry about the wine. I was just-’

‘It’s fine. I told you.’ Grayson pours himself a coffee as I stare at his hand. ‘It hurts but it will heal very quickly. Please don’t worry.’ He stretches out his red fingers. ‘I can heal most injuries. We all can. This will be gone in half an hour or so.’

‘We?’

‘Collins, Hendrix, Gabriel and I. Courtesy of a spell we did a few years back. The smaller the injury, the quicker we heal. I hear you met Gabriel last night?’

‘Yeah.’

He seems to be waiting for me to add to the conversation, but I have no clue what to say. They can heal themselves? Because of a spell? I’m struggling to process all the information that’s being given to me. Forty-eight hours ago, all I had to think about was when I was going to get some food, or if Roger would start nibbling on my toes. Now I’m in a house with witches, a vampire, and the man who saved me is talking about spells.

‘What other spells can you do?’ I ask, unintentionally glancing at the bandages on my wrists and the scars from the punishments my uncle would dish out. Maybe he can get rid of them for me.

‘Not so many now I’m afraid. We have a lot to talk about, and I know you must have a dozen questions for me, but first things first. You need more painkillers. I saw you had the ones I left you.’ He takes a pot of pills from his pocket and empties two into his hand before handing them to me.

‘Second. Your bandages need changing. Those marks from those cuffs will more than likely scar I’m afraid.’

I nod. What’re a few more scars.

‘Then I really need to talk to you about Toby-’

‘I need some clothes.’ My words come out a lot louder than I intended. His eyebrows arch up in surprise. He clearly isn’t used to being interrupted. ‘And, I know we kissed but… I’m not comfortable with you undressing me,’ I add clearing my throat which is painfully tight.

He gives a small short laugh.

‘You were filthy, Lilly. I had to wash you. To make sure your injuries didn’t get infected if nothing else. The fact we kissed played no part in that. But I am sorry that it made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention. And I have someone getting you some clothes as we speak. No women are living here, so we had to make do with those for now. It was all we could find that would fit you.’ He gestures to what I’m wearing.

We’re interrupted by Hendrix who clears his throat as he stands in the doorway.

‘Boss. You have a phone call. The New York office. Something about a secretary wandering off with sensitive information.’

‘Thank you, Hendrix,’ Grayson replies with a heavy sigh. ‘I’ll take it in my office. Work beckons I’m afraid. Make yourself some breakfast, and I’ll be back shortly. Help yourself. I won’t have you go hungry. What’s mine is yours.’ He gives me a courteous nod before heading towards the door.

Hendrix lingers in the doorway. Again, his eyes scan up my body and that disgusting sneer makes an appearance.

So that’s what a real Vampire looks like? Huh, modern fiction really has it wrong!

Thankfully he doesn’t stay, and follows Grayson out of the room. I wonder what classes as work for a man like him. But not for long.

The sun’s up, and it’s only now I see what lies beyond the patio doors. Along with the burnt remains of Grayson’s curtains, I see endless greenery. Acres and acres of perfectly manicured lawn with clipped box hedging and stone statues surrounded by rose bushes and colour coordinated flowers. The garden rolls down to what looks like a boating lake in the distance with a magnificent willow tree hugging the bank. In the distance is open countryside and woodland. It’s a scene of undoubted beauty. About a hundred metres in front of me is a patio with a huge outdoor swimming pool slap bang in the middle, surrounded by sun loungers. Beyond that is a large three-tier stone water fountain that sprays water in all directions. It’s what I imagine heaven looking like. Open, empty and free.

I long for the open space. More than I long for clothes. So I put down the coffee, open up the doors, and head out.

The cold air bites and gets stuck in my throat. But the sky’s perfectly clear and the sun’s shining. I pass the patio till I feel the grass beneath my feet.

That’s when I stop.

I wriggle my toes, feeling each blade that nestles between them and observe my skin in the natural light. I’m so pale. Almost grey. The scars on my skin are more visible than I’ve ever seen them. A strong breeze blows a few loose strands of hair across my face, and the smell of rain from last night’s storm still lingers in the soil. I raise my arms either side of me and lower them again, so my palms lay flat on my thighs and then I do it again, and again.

‘Thinking of flying away?’ Grayson asks, standing next to me watching my unusual behaviour.

‘It’s tempting,’ I reply. ‘Everything okay with work?’

‘All fine. I’m more worried about you, not a misplaced folder containing the email addresses of a few business associates.’

‘You have a job? But you’re witches.’

‘Yes well, being witches doesn’t pay the bills,’ he jokes. ‘Never mind all that. How are you feeling?’

‘Overwhelmed,’ I sigh. ‘This is the first bit of sunlight I’ve seen in two years.’ My lip starts to tremble. I can’t cry. If I start, I don’t think I’ll ever stop. The tears I have inside could wash me away if I let them. I look back out at the vast space before me so he doesn’t see me trying not to fall apart. ‘I never thought I would feel the grass between my toes ever again.’

‘You thought you were going to die down there,’ he says sadly.

‘Worse,’ I tell him. ‘I thought I was going to survive down there. I would have taken death happily from the minute I woke up in those chains. After everything…’ My voice trails off.

‘What happened to you? The marks on your body and those men in the barn? Collins told me what they found. Did you kill them? You and Toby?’

He wants answers. And although he sounds caring and concerned, I know he’s desperate for information. All I want right now is to enjoy this moment.

‘Would you mind if we talked about all that later? I just need to let my head catch up with everything.’

‘Sure,’ he sighs.

I return to enjoying this moment, right now. I lower myself down on to my knees. The morning dew settles on my skin and the blades of grass sit between my fingers. I rip up a few and smell them. ‘In the summer, Mr Simmons would open the window of Harry’s library. When the gardener mowed the lawn, the smell of the freshly cut grass would come in through the window.’ I smell the grass once more, delighting in its aroma. ‘When you grow up with so little, it really makes you appreciate the small things, you know?’

He squats down next to me, resting his elbows on his knees and takes the torn grass from my hand to smell. He doesn’t share my sentimentality and drops it to the floor.

‘Whatever happened to you at your uncle’s home, I want you to know that it’s over. No harm will come to you here.’ He reaches out a comforting hand and rests it on mine. The usual hot, sharp pain erupts on every inch he touches. I flinch away from him, and he retracts it immediately.

‘Grayson, I have a problem with being touched. It takes time,’ I say a little annoyed. He knows this. ‘I would really appreciate it if you could just give me a little space. I don’t want to lose control and hurt anyone.’

‘I understand. And I apologise,’ he says softly, getting to his feet. ‘Come inside. You must be freezing. We can have a chat.’

‘Can I go for a walk first?’

‘You will get cold.’ He looks at my legs, bare feet and short sleeved top.

I throw him a forced smile. ‘I don’t mind the cold. Please?’

He nods. ‘As you wish. Take some time. Clear your head. But please, stay close to the house.’

‘I will. Thank you.’

He leaves as I take off in the opposite direction, eager to explore.

∞∞∞

I find a tennis court, pool house, greenhouse and an impressive lake with a small boat. If I knew how to swim, I would be tempted to take it out onto the water.

After another twenty minutes or so of walking, I come to a large brick wall with a single archway in the centre. A black iron gate sits slightly ajar tempting me inside. I walk through it and realise why they call this place The Orchard.

Set out in hundreds of straight lines that disappear into the distance and eventually merging into thick woodland are countless apple trees. I can’t even begin to guess how many there are. I take a leisurely pace, walking past line after line of flourishing fruit trees decorated with beautiful red apples that make the air smell sweet.

‘Can I try one?’ I ask when I feel the air begin to hum.

‘That’s a creepy talent,’ replies Gabriel. ‘I usually enjoy sneaking up on people.’ He reaches into the branches and plucks an apple. ‘I think we can spare one.’ Gabriel hands me the fruit before taking off his leather jacket and holds it up for me. ‘Put this on. You must be cold.’

‘I’m fine,’ I lie. I’m freezing, but I don’t want to be an inconvenience.

He holds out his jacket further and shakes his head.

‘Not gonna take no for an answer. You’re in shorts and a T-shirt. And it is winter, Lilly,’ he insists. ‘We can’t have you getting sick.’

‘I’m not the ideal person to make jump,’ I tell him as I slide on his jacket. ‘You’re more likely to end up bursting into flames or slamming into walls than getting a funny scare.’ I pull the leather jacket tight around me, thankful for the warmth as he laughs softly to himself. ‘That’s nice,’ I gesture to the leather bracelet that looks like a cuff around his wrist. It has beautifully carved knots and intricate patterns in the flesh of the leather. He holds it out for me to see.

‘My mother made it for me before she died. It’s supposed to bring the wearer luck.’

I take his hand in mine and pull it closer. It really is stunning and so detailed.

I soon stop looking at the accessory and start admiring the hand I’m holding. Everything about this man is stunning, even his fingers. My hands hold his, and I’m lost in wonderment at how it feels to touch him. There’s no pain. No discomfort or feelings of dread. Human contact is massively overrated to those who can bear it. I can’t. So when it feels nice like this…I savour every second.

Finally, he clears his throat making me drop his hand and look up at his cheeky grin and curious eyes.

‘I was told you didn’t like to be touched. Am I an exception?’

‘I’m sorry about your mum.’ I change the subject fast. ‘My mum’s dead too. It sucks.’

‘Yeah,’ he sighs. ‘It’s a real shit.’

I take a bite of the apple.

‘That’s amazing,’ I tell him. I haven’t had an apple that wasn’t bruised or stale in a long time. It’s juicy, crisp and the freshest a piece of fruit can be.

I look up at the clear blue sky through the branches of these beautiful trees, listening to the birds sing their morning song and feel nothing but fresh air and freedom. I’m in heaven.

He picks an apple for himself and takes a bite. ‘We’ve grown them here for decades.’ He looks around him enjoying the beauty of our surroundings for himself. ‘I love mornings like this. Sunny but cold. It feels fresh, don’t you think?’

‘Yeah.’ We continue walking.

‘Why are you out here alone?’ he asks. ‘Did Grayson not want to join you?’

‘I’m sure he would have if I asked him to. I don’t want to be a bother. Talking about being a bother, I’m really sorry about last night. I was rude. And I hope I didn’t offend you or your girlfriend.’

‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ he says with a casual air. ‘I’d had too much to drink at the pub. She drove me home and helped me upstairs. I passed out. Guess she decided to stay over.’ He runs his hand through his hair but it falls straight back over his eyes which are watching me, and the corner of his mouth is hitched up in that half-smile of his. Why does hearing that make me happy? ‘You know you don’t have any shoes on.’ He nods to my naked feet.

‘I’m aware,’ I say not caring in the slightest that I’m freezing and my feet are actually throbbing. ‘Some things are worth feeling uncomfortable for. I’ve not felt grass beneath my feet for a while.’

His eyes flood with sadness, or pity maybe. I don’t like it, so I make a mental note to myself to keep the depressing talk to a minimum.

When I’ve finished the apple, I tuck my hands in the pockets of my borrowed jacket and wrap it tighter around my body with my nose snuggled in the collar, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. It smells like him. And I really like it.

‘How old are you?’ he asks as we continue walking.

‘Twenty-two-ish.’

‘Ish?’

‘I’m not exactly sure when my birthday is. I know I was five when my mum died, and that was seventeen years ago.’

‘You should pick a birthday. I’ll get you a present.’ He nudges my shoulder playfully as we walk.

I chuckle at his suggestion. He’s funny. And sweet.

‘Being here is more than enough. How old are you?’ I throw his question back.

‘Twenty-five-ish,’ he says, trying not to smirk.

‘Ish?’

‘Well… I’ve been twenty-five for a while.’

‘What does that mean?’ I step on something sharp and lose my footing.

‘I’ve gotcha.’ He grabs my arm keeping me on my feet. I hold onto him to steady myself, and again, stare in surprise as my hand rests in his. He strokes my skin ever so slightly with his thumb sending tingles through my whole body. ‘Damn, you are so fucking beautiful,’ he whispers to himself before looking at me like he forgot I was there. ‘I am so sorry. I won’t say that again,’ he laughs, embarrassed. ‘I think it’s the hair. Redheads are just…’ as I laugh at his reddening cheeks, he looks to the floor, grinning from ear to ear. But his grin turns to a frown. ‘Oh shit, you’re bleeding.’

I’ve cut my foot. But it’s not too bad. I put some weight on it but wince as I do. Before I can utter a word of protest, he scoops me up in his arms and starts walking back to the iron gate.

‘I’m sorry if me holding you is uncomfortable. Grayson mentioned that you don’t like being touched, but I don’t want you to be in any more pain than necessary. You’ll be in agony if you walk back to the house with no shoes. Can you bear it till we get back?’

‘I can bear it,’ I tell him.

I can more than bear it.

∞∞∞

Sitting back in the kitchen on one of the stools with my foot on his knee, Gabriel cleans the cut and puts yet another bandage on my body. He also has a large bowl of warm soapy water ready to wash my wrists. I can’t stop watching his skin on mine. It’s hypnotic feeling his hands on me and not being filled with dread and pain. He unwraps the bandages around my wrists. The pity in his face doesn’t go unnoticed when he sees the marks, and although his hands are gentle, I hiss and wince as the wounds are wiped clean. Every time I do, he tells me he’s sorry

‘Those cuffs really dug into your skin,’ he says. ‘I can nearly see bone.’ He finishes wrapping them. ‘All done,’ he says, resting his hands over mine. We look at each other, and I feel his thumb trace back and forth over my knuckles. ‘How does it feel?’ he asks quietly.

‘Fine,’ I reply with a dry mouth and butterflies in my belly.

The loud ding dong of a doorbell makes me violently jump as the lightbulb above us pops and showers us with glass.

‘It’s alright. That will be your new wardrobe,’ he assures me, patting my hand which has grabbed hold of his tightly. He goes to stand. To leave!

‘Will you stay with me?’ I ask, not letting him go. I hate sounding so pathetic, but I feel safer with him around.

‘Of course. For as long as you like.’ He returns to the seat and carries on tending to my wrists.

The front door opens, and I hear someone walking into the lobby. The clacking of heels on the wooden floor tell me it’s a woman.

‘The traffic was a bloody nightmare, and the shopping centre was heaving. But I think I have enough for a while at least,’ a soft, delicate female voice says as she walks through the lobby towards us. I think to myself, please don’t be Ava. When she walks in all I see is a pair of feet in kitten heels and a horde of shopping bags walking towards us. She can’t see where she’s going because the bags are completely blocking her face from view as she makes her way closer.

‘Gabriel… be a love and take some of these, would you?’

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes in amusement, he heads over and lightens her load.

‘Where is she then?’ she asks, dumping the bags on the island and looking around the room until her big silver eyes fall on me. It’s not Ava, but a dainty young woman in her very early twenties with waist length brunette hair, pale complexion and light freckles.

‘Oh, look at you! She’s gorgeous!’ She has the biggest smile as she nudges Gabriel’s arm.

‘Yeah,’ he agrees, throwing those blues in my direction. ‘She is.’ I feel myself blush which only makes him smile more.

She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she struggles to untie her hands from the many bag handles wrapped around her wrist. Finally free, she rushes forwards holding out her hand.

‘I’m Amara Jayne. You must be Lilly. It’s a pleasure…an honour, really.’

I didn’t know my hands could get so sweaty so quick as I eye her outstretched hand.

Take it. Shake the poor girl’s hand!

But nothing happens, and her happy little smile starts fading. Hand still outstretched, she takes another step towards me.

‘I’ve heard a lot about you. Mainly your dress and shoe size.’ She gives a nervous laugh and looks at her still outstretched hand that I can’t seem to take. My heartbeat quickens and I actually back away from her. No one’s offered me their hand before. Every time someone’s touched me it’s rarely been my choice. I genuinely don’t know what to do! I don’t want to be touched, but I don’t want to offend her either.

‘Oh…shit, yeah Amara, Lilly has a slight phobia. She can’t shake your hand. Nothing personal,’ Gabriel tells her. Amara quickly retracts her hand.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know,’ she whispers to him. ‘Why did no one tell me that?’

‘Why haven’t you got her normal clothes?’ he whispers right back.

‘I had instructions!’ she argues, her voice still low. ‘Grayson was specific.’ With a big sigh, she turns her attention back to me. ‘Well, Lilly, if you need anything else, let me know. I hope you like what I chose.’

‘What Grayson chose,’ Gabriel mutters.

‘Is he home?’ she asks him, her hands on her hips.

‘Upstairs. Tell the lazy sod to get his arse out of bed.’

‘Will do.’

He leans down, and they kiss each other on the cheek before she leaves the room.

‘I don’t know why I did that,’ I say embarrassed. ‘I just froze! What the hell is wrong with me?’

‘Amara’s harmless,’ he tells me while rummaging through the bags. ‘She won’t hold that against you. Not sure what you’re going to think of this lot.’ He pulls out a silver silk strap top and hands it to me. He’s pulling out more, and it’s all very similar. Thin, dainty and sleek. ‘Daft mare. It’s winter, and she’s not got you a single jumper. Oh, hold the phone…’ He pulls out a pair of jeans and I almost pull him over as I rip them from his hands. Without a second to waste I slide them up my legs and ease the discomfort of being so exposed that I’ve had since I woke up.

‘Is there anything with sleeves in there?’ I ask desperately.

‘There are tank tops, dresses, heels,’ he looks up at me over the bag. ‘Not much in the way of sleeves I’m afraid. I-I have some long-sleeved tops you could borrow. If you want to cover up?’

‘Really? That would be great,’ I sigh with relief.

He relaxes into a smile, scoops up all the bags and gestures to the door. ‘Come on. I’ll help you unpack and fetch you some hoodies from my room.’

∞∞∞

My fingers play with the edge of the fresh bandages on my wrists as I sit watching Gabriel putting my new clothes in the wardrobe. There’s a tap at the door before Grayson walks in. He looks between the two of us and the many bags.

‘So, you met Amara then?’

I nod. If you can call staring at her and not saying a word meeting.

‘Did the fresh air do you some good?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘Good. When you are done up here Gabriel, bring Lilly with you to my office.’ As he speaks to Gabriel, his tone is nowhere near as gentle.

‘Sure thing,’ Gabriel replies with his head still in the wardrobe.

‘She will need something to eat-’

‘I’ll get on it.’

‘Her bandages-’

‘Already done.’ He pokes his head out from behind the door. ‘I’ll bring her to you fed, watered and ready to fill us all in within the hour.’

Fill them in? On what?

‘Good.’ Grayson turns and heads out the door but turns back and stares at Gabriel.‘Remember what I said, Gabriel. Pas pour toi. I mean it.’

They both stare at each other for an awkward amount of time, neither one blinking. If I had a knife, I could cut the tension with it.

‘I know. I got that loud and clear last night. Thank you for the reminder though, brother. I’ll bring her down in a few moments. Okay?’

‘Good.’ And with a small nod to me, Grayson disappears.

Brother?’ I say stunned. ‘You two are brothers?’

‘Yeah,’ he sighs. ‘Didn’t you know? I’m the boss’s baby brother. Here,’ He throws me a red tank top, a black bra and matching pants and socks. ‘Get dressed.’ He points to the bathroom and sits on the bed. ‘And maybe have a shower. You’re a little ripe,’ he teases playfully, but I take the hint and head to the bathroom. I look back before I close the door.

‘He’s a bit scary, isn’t he?’

‘He can be. But if he’s in your corner you’re pretty much untouchable. And he’s definitely in your corner. He’s extremely protective and loyal to us all.’

‘Well, for the record, I speak French,’ I tell him.

‘You do?’

‘Oui. Je parle bien,’ I reply, telling him I speak it well. ‘And I’m not here for anyone. So his warning, Pas pour toi? Not for you? Really? I told Grayson I won’t be furthering any bloodline so if either of you think that’s what I’ll be doing…you can think again.’

‘Wow, he was right. You are feisty,’ he says with a soft chuckle. ‘Well, he’s just reminding me that you’re a little fragile. He doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, and I can be a bit…friendly, sometimes.’

‘You don’t make me uncomfortable,’ I tell him. ‘And…I like that you’re friendly.’ In fact, he makes me feel much more at ease than any of the others. Hendrix and his teeth. Grayson and his temper. Collins and his knife. Gabriel is much more relaxing to be around. ‘Now excuse me. I stink and need a shower. Apparently.’

I hear him laughing as I close the bathroom door and I find myself giggling too.

The shower cubicle in the corner is very modern with three different knobs and a large rectangle head that sticks out covering almost every inch of the shower.

I have no idea how it works. At Harry’s house, I had five minutes with a sink and a flannel. I’ve never had a shower, but I refuse to ask Gabriel for help on how it works.

I can do this!

I turn the first knob and the shower springs to life. I jump back so I don’t get wet but give myself a mental pat on the back for figuring it out. The water’s warm, so excitedly I take off my clothes and step in.

‘Oh my god!’ I bellow.

‘You okay?! Lilly?’ Gabriel calls through the door. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing! I’m brilliant!’ I start laughing as the water covers me completely. It warms me through my skin to my core. ‘This shower’s amazing! Holy fuck!’ I hear his soft chuckle as I continue to enjoy myself.

‘There’s shower gel and shampoo by your feet,’ he calls. ‘I’m going to grab you some clothes from my room.’ I look down and help myself. I use way too much shower gel, but it feels incredible covering my body in this sweet-smelling foamy soap. The various cuts sting as the shampoo, conditioner and shower gel comes into contact with the raw skin. But I can deal with that. Easily. I rewash myself three times. Every time I think about getting out I just can’t do it. This is the most relaxing experience I think I’ve ever had. By the time I’m finished, my hair smells of coconut and my skin, of cherries. I’ve never been so clean. My skin’s never felt so soft.

I dry off and get dressed. The clothes I’ve been given are small, but they still hang loosely on me.

When I open the bathroom door, Gabriel’s gone. I feel so out of place. Everything here is so nice and expensive. I’m scared to touch anything in case I break it. I stare at the door waiting for him to come back and tell myself that I’m okay. That he’ll be back in a moment and no one here wants to hurt me. But I don’t believe my words. Not really.

Fuck, I really wish he would come back.

After a few minutes of watching the door, I force myself to sit at the dressing table on the small stool in front of the mirror and begin brushing several year’s worth of knots out of my hair. I look at myself in the mirror as I work the bristles through the strands. The red marks in the corners of my mouth from the gag aren’t as angry as they were but they’re still there. As I keep looking at myself, I feel like I’m looking at a stranger. This girl looks different than the one that used to wash her body in a sink every morning. Different than the girl who loved Toby. She’s someone new. I’m a little bit nervous about getting to know her. But excited too.

With my hair knot free, it reaches to my waist. It’s got long. I kind of like it. I stand and lift my top so I can see my belly in the mirror. Tracing my fingers over the two scars that rest just above each of my hip bones, I wonder how they got there. They weren’t there before the missing six weeks.

And I still can’t get over how thin I am.

Gabriel walks in and glances at my body before looking at the floor. I pull down my top and turn quickly. Oh bugger, how much did he see?

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t see… I mean…’ he clears his throat, still looking at the floor. ‘Here,’ He quickly holds out a black hoody for me to take and places a pile of other long-sleeved items on the end of my bed. ‘They’ll be big for you, but they’ll keep you covered and warm.’ I slide it on, keen to gain the extra layers. It smells of him again. Vanilla and sandalwood. I feel so much better covered, but the unease is still very present. He glances at me briefly as his feet shuffle and I can’t stand this sudden awkwardness.

‘I have scars,’ I tell him. ‘Can we move on now?’ I tuck my wet hair behind my ears and wait for him to respond.

He looks up at me and nods. ‘I didn’t really see anything. I promise. Come on, best not keep my brother waiting.’

Following him downstairs I can’t believe I didn’t clock they were related sooner. The resemblance is obvious. Their faces are too similar not to be. He hasn’t mentioned what he saw anymore and has returned to his former self. Chatting away and smiling as we head down. He stops outside the large doors in the lobby that look like they belong in a medieval castle.

‘Go on in. I’ll go make you a sandwich. I’m determined to get some meat on those bones of yours.’

‘You’re not coming in?’ I ask a little too desperately. I look at the door and back to him. ‘Is it just Grayson in there?’ My fingers are knotted together so tight they hurt. I step closer and look up at him. ‘Can you come in with me? Please?’

‘I will. In a few minutes,’ he replies patting my arm encouragingly.

‘What does he want?’

‘To talk. That’s all.’

Images of my aunt and uncle tied to chairs spring into mind. He wanted them to talk. What if he asks me something I don’t want to answer or worse…something I can’t answer. I step back, distancing myself from the door.

‘I don’t think I can go in there,’ I say quietly, more to myself than him.

‘I’ll be right behind you. He wants a few moments alone with you. That’s all. I’ll make you some food and be right in. Okay?’ Again, he gestures to the door. But I don’t move.

‘Is he going to hurt me?’ My voice is uneasy and shaking a little.

‘He won’t hurt you. He just wants to talk.’

‘That’s what he said to my aunt and uncle,’ I mutter.

‘Just be honest. Answer his questions and whatever you do…be polite. He has a real thing about respect so don’t be rude.’ He re-tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and our eyes lock. ‘Go on. You’ll be fine. I’m right behind you.’ He attempts an encouraging smile. ‘It’s going to be fine.’ He opens the door slightly before walking away leaving me standing nervously outside the intimidating room.

But that’s nothing compared to the intimidating man that awaits me inside.

∞∞∞

I knock.

‘Come in, Lilly.’

The door’s heavy so I slide in through a small gap before closing it behind me. Straight ahead at the far end of the room between two large windows is an imposing dark grey metal fireplace. Like the one in the entrance hall, the breast reaches up to the ceiling. The walls behind me are covered in books and the wall to my right is a map dotted with different coloured pins. Some of them are linked by string and have post-it notes on them. The room screams classic elegance, power and authority.

It’s very him.

Grayson doesn’t look up from the pile of papers and books on his large antique oak desk.

‘Come in. Make yourself comfortable.’

Nerves prevent me from speaking or walking. When I don’t reply he raises his head and realises I’m far from comfortable. Purposefully, he sets his pen down and gets to his feet.

‘Come in, Lilly. Please. We have a lot to talk about. I keep telling you, you are perfectly safe.’

With a small swipe of his hand, one of the chairs on the other side of his desk pulls out.

‘Have you eaten?’ he asks as I sit.

‘Gabriel’s getting me something.’

‘Good. I’m glad you two met. What do you think of my brother?’

There’s a hint of annoyance in his voice, and his brow raises as he speaks.

‘He’s nice,’ Is my chosen answer.

‘Oh yes. Gabriel can be very nice. Especially with the fairer sex.’

‘I didn’t know you had a brother. He didn’t come with you to my Uncle’s house. Are there any other witches I’m to meet?’

‘No.’

‘Why didn’t he come with you?’

‘He was busy. With Ava.’

He’s very short with me. I’m getting the impression he doesn’t want me talking about Gabriel, so I change the subject.

‘I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am. But, why do I get the feeling that there’s something you want from me? I meant what I said back at my uncle’s. I won’t be used to further my bloodline.’

‘I know. And I already told you that I have no intention of forcing you to do so. However, there is something I do need your help with.’

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘What could I possibly help you with?’

‘Something very, very important,’ he says. ‘But before we get into that, I have a few questions. Will you answer them for me?’

‘I’ll…I’ll do my best, Grayson.’

‘Good girl.’


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