Chapter 15 Hector
HECTOR
The shackles around my wrists dug into the skin, severing blood circulation until the tips of my fingers turned blue. I learned, quickly, that every time I moved the bindings got tighter, so I did my best to keep as still as I possibly could.
Harsh hands pushed me down. My knees were forced into the stone floor, tearing skin. I glowered at my captors as they wrapped the chain connecting my wrists to the large metal ring on the floor in front of me, eliminating any movement.
“Who guessed my kink was chains then?” I said to a silent crowd.
Comfort was an impossibility in the basement of the White Tower.
I’d been placed in the shadows of the grand stone archway that had become a doorway to the Witch Trials during my first visit here.
I was almost one-hundred-percent confident that Tomin had locked me here because it was the same place I’d killed Jonathan Bailey.
It was almost poetic, at least on Tomin’s behalf. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was highlighting some unspoken homoerotic history between the men.
“Tough crowd. I’m all for whips and chains, but is this really necessary?” My sarcasm echoed around the dark room, filling the few corners that weren’t filled with Witch Hunters poised and ready to greet the predator they’d been trying to catch.
It didn’t take me long to work out that I was the bait.
Poor, powerless Hector Briar on his knees to wait for a demon-possessed ex-lover to come and rescue him. It was so tragic someone could’ve written a book about my life. A bestseller no doubt. Personally, I thought it would’ve done better as a musical.
“Fuck me, do you all have your tongues cut out—”
“Quiet.” Tomin’s sharp tone cut through the gloom.
“Oh sure,” I said, eyes rolling into my head to the enjoyment of a couple of loose-tongued Witch Hunters. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”
“I said quiet.”
The chains rattled as I shifted my position, trying to ease the ache in my torn-up knees.
“Listen, I’m all for following commands every now and then, but surely you want me to scream or something?
If you want a show, I can put one on. I took drama for GCSEs and I can play a really convincing ‘damsel in distress’ part.
I think that would really convince Arwyn to come and—”
I was silenced by the crack of a bullet. It hit against the stone slabs to my right, chipping it into shrapnel and dust. I flinched to the side, pinching my eyes closed as a piece of disturbed stone sliced my cheek.
A gargled cry clogged up my throat, so thick and ferocious I couldn’t breathe properly for a few seconds.
“There you go. Much better,” Tomin sang from the dark shadows of the room, gun still drawn. “You wanted to scream, and you have. Now quiet, or the next bullet will hit your thigh.”
Aware that an entire room of forty-plus Witch Hunters had just witnessed my momentary lapse in confidence, I tried to regain my composure and pride before they could use it against me.
Glowering out across the barren room, I fixed my eyes on Tomin as the barrel of his gun hissed with smoke.
“I don’t like being threatened,” I said.
“And I don’t like listening to your voice,” Tomin replied, full lips quirking into a smile. “You know, I’m almost surprised that you are a Briar. I seem to remember your parents were not as… vocal when they were faced with death.”
I jolted forwards, pulling at the chains whilst willing my blood to evict the thistlebane, just so I could witch myself out of this predicament. Every time I looked at Tomin it was a reminder that he’d died and come back to life before my eyes.
Although I’d felt no relief from his death, I did feel the hot bite of disappointment to watch him walk out of that car. Oh, what I’d give to do it all over again. In fact, I’d happily try a hundred times over just to clean that fucking smirk off his mouth.
He believed he’d won. But alas, I was still chained to the floor and Arwyn was nowhere to be found. Not that I expected him to come and save the day. That hope was placed in the hands of two other people, and a scaled familiar.
For what felt like the millionth time, I scanned the shadowed corners of the basement, wondering if Emon was here already, concealing Romy and Kai. If they were, it was obvious as to why they’d not acted yet.
We were extremely outnumbered. Magic was great and all, but forty-plus guns with their safeties off certainly outmatched it.
There was the tap of heels against stone before a woman melted from the shadows at Tomin’s side. “I hope I haven’t kept you,” she said, except her voice certainly suggested she didn’t care if she had kept Tomin waiting.
“Updates?” Tomin barked.
The woman simply shook her head.
She was strikingly beautiful, the type of beauty that old Greek poets wrote sonnets about. Rich hazel eyes, and curled hair that fell across her narrow shoulders, all the way down to her hips. Dark brown skin that glowed with vitality.
I could see she was older from the lines creased around her mouth, but there was also something uniquely youthful about her. But that wasn’t why she was familiar.
“Are you looking for someone, Mr. Briar?”
She’d followed my stare to the corner of the room where there was nothing but darkness.
“The same person you are I guess,” I replied, keeping my eyes on her as if she was a serpent readying to strike. “Although it seems that you’ll need more of a reason for Arwyn to show his face here. Apparently I’m not enough.”
“You are. And he will come,” she said with a keen smile, eyes glittering.
No, not glittering. They glowed with a band of light, revealing her as a witch before a room full of her enemies.
Except no one moved to train their weapons on her.
“In fact, I’d bet my own life on it that Arwyn is going to find his way to you very, very soon.
I’ve spent some time with him to know that there’s no one else in this world that matters to him as much as you do. ”
My traitorous heart skipped a beat at her words, as if she had found my hidden weakness and was preparing to use it against me. “Are you not worried that if he comes—”
“When,” she corrected.
“When he comes, you’ll be unmatched against him?” The closer she got, the more I caught the sweet scent of perfume that clung to her brown skin. “Arwyn’s possessed by the Lord of the Pit. He could destroy you, all with a single brush of his hand.”
“I don’t doubt his power,” the water-witch said. “Although it would take only a single bullet to kill you. I have a feeling Arwyn will be extremely cooperative when he understands that your life is on the line.”
“How romantic,” I added.
The way she said it made me think she knew about Tomin’s curse. How many bullets would finally put him down? What would happen if his neck was severed from his head, could he live through that?
“Arwyn won’t care either way,” I replied, knowing I was lying to myself and this woman.
Her eyes glowed brighter as if a star hid beneath her iris, and the witch tilted her head and looked at me with a look of genuine pity.
“Oh, he cares.” She leaned down, brushing a soft hand to the side of my face.
I flinched away, but the shackles were so tight now that they’d soon start cutting through my skin.
“I’ve seen into his thoughts; I know his feelings better than he knows them himself.
Arwyn is… infatuated with you. Perhaps it’s the guilt driving him, or the fact that he saw you as a chance to seek the forgiveness he craves so desperately.
But he’d do pretty much anything to keep you alive.
I may not know many things, but of that I’m confident. ”
“Mind reader,” I said, choosing to ignore her little speech. “I see your Gift is still intact.”
“As is yours,” the water-witch said as she withdrew. “The entire world saw you use yours. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it. If Arwyn hated you, as you clearly think, why would he not revert your Gift like he has the rest of witch-kind?”
Damn. She got me there.
Her eyes glowered brighter, unseen fingers clawing into my thoughts. “Finally, we are on something.”
I’d met a witch with her Gift before, during the Witch Trials. Jordan could crack minds open and take information, out of his own free will. And yet I’d some ability to resist him. But with this woman… there was no keeping her out of my head.
I cringed against the sensation of her mental fingers delving through my brain, picking out the knowledge that she was looking for.
I panicked, trying to keep Romy, Kai and Emon from my thoughts, but that was enough for her to grasp at the threads that I attempted to bury and draw them free.
One look in her eyes, and I knew that she was aware of who I was looking for in the shadows. But instead of smiling, her lips drew down into a line and she fumbled back a step, eyes spluttering back to their mundane brown.
“Anything to note, Verena?” Tomin called out. “Are Hector’s thoughts as rapid as his mouth?”
Verena stared deep into my soul, eyes flickering between mine as she contemplated her reply. Sweat trickled down my temple, my numb fingers trembling as I waited for her to spoil everything.
“Nothing important,” she said, her expression greyed from what could only be shock or disbelief. “A few dark things he wants to do to you… that’s about it.”
I wondered if she’d really just not found anything. Perhaps her Gift was weakening too. But then Verena looked to the same corner of the room, her eyes lingering there for a beat too long before she returned to Tomin’s side.
“I don’t need your Gift to know that, Verena,” Tomin said. “Everyone in positions. We wait as long as it takes for my son to show.”
“Can I sing you a song whilst we wait?” I asked.
Tomin paused, looked over his shoulder at me, and scowled. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. This is taking far too long. I think we need to give my son something to encourage him.”