Chapter Eight. #2
Mitch paced back and forth and then stopped and spun to her, making Jess jump. He immediately held his hands up. “I swear, I’ll never hurt you.”
“Uh-huh,” Jess said, unconvinced.
“Jess, I was born into a family of fanatics. They’re actually worse than that, but there’s not a word for them.
They believe… in things many don’t. And that has made them cruel and suspicious.
When I was five, my mother was killed. For a long time, I believed it had been an accident.
In addition to attending school, for an extra five hours a day, my father, Alexander, and grandfather, Alfred trained me…
” Mitch broke off and took a sip of coffee.
Jess waited with a knot in her gut. She sensed something dark was coming, and Mitch was stalling.
“If I didn’t learn the lessons they wanted me to, and be able to recite them, Alexander beat me.
In addition to studies, two hours a day was spent on physical training.
There was never a break for birthdays or holidays.
They crammed the family history into me, intending to make me like them.
That backfired when I discovered that they’d butchered my mum for something she’d seen. ” Mitch paused.
Despite her rising alarm, Jess couldn’t help her exclamation. “They murdered your mother? Who did?”
“Alfred and Alexander.” Mitch looked out of the window. “It was then I took Mum’s surname and ran. She’d left me four jewellery shops, and I inherited them and expanded, becoming what I am now,” Mitch said.
“Mitch McQuoid.”
“Yes. I cut ties with Alfred and Alexander, but every so often, they pop up wanting me to rejoin the family business. They don’t accept that I can walk away without looking back.
They honestly believe I should understand why they killed Mum and get over it.
That’s not something anyone should forgive. ”
“What monsters, Mitch… But who was that man you killed?”
“When I left, I took an insurance policy. I’d scanned hundreds of documents and diaries and had knowledge and evidence of the murders they’d committed.
Until now, I’d never needed to use them to get them to leave me alone.
But for some unknown reason, they’ve decided I need to return to the family fold.
According to Alfred, my feelings are redundant; I should obey because of my blood tie. Fuck that,” Mitch spat.
Jess’s stomach was churning, and she felt sick. She’d an idea of what Mitch’s relatives were, but couldn’t put voice to the word.
“The man?”
“At the last, forced meeting, I told them there was no way I’d ever rejoin the happy murder gang. Alfred threatened me, and I replied in kind. Apparently, Alfred, my grandfather, decided to test my resolve and sent an assassin after me.” Mitch rubbed the back of his neck as he held Jess’s eyes.
She wanted to believe that what she was seeing in them was honest, but she couldn’t trust Mitch. Not knowing how deceptive they could be.
“What did you do after killing him?” Jess demanded. Would Mitch be honest?
“A friend and I took the body and dumped it at Alfred’s estate. It was a message that they’d failed, and I was riled. After that, I released some information that implicated Alfred in a murder.” Mitch frowned and blew a breath out.
“Are they the mob?” Jess asked, knowing the answer.
“No. They’re far worse. And they’re vile. Jess, I want nothing to do with them. I know what you saw shocked you, and, in all honesty, I’m surprised you haven’t phoned the police. Jess, it’s probably not going to be safe around me for a while,” Mitch admitted.
“Mafia?” Jess pushed. Would Mitch admit what his family was?
“No.”
Jess eyed Mitch, attempting to decipher his motive.
There could be several. Mitch might be trying to lure her in.
Discover where Jess lived and then attack when she was at ease at home.
Mitch might want her to offer him safe harbour at the castle and then lead his band of merry brothers to Jess and the others.
“What are they?” she asked, her voice implacable.
“They go by the name Sealgair Uilebheist; it translates into Hunters. They are bad guys, Jess, the worst of the worst. You need to stay far away from them. Alfred doesn’t care who he kills as long as he gets the answers he wants.
” Mitch closed his eyes. “They’ve even tortured people.
If they knew how I feel about you, they’d try to take you to control me. And they’d be able to.”
“Hunters? What do they hunt?” Jess asked. Her mouth was dry, and her voice was cracking. Hopefully, Mitch would think that was because of what he was telling her or because Jess was afraid of him.
“You don’t want to know, Jess…” Mitch sighed.
“Yes, I do!” she insisted.
“If I tell you, I put you in danger, and not just from my family. That is something I can’t give you an answer to,” Mitch replied.
“They hunt humans,” Jess whispered. She knew they did.
Mac and Ranson had explained a lot to them.
Jess’s gut was twisting. She was sitting in a Hunter’s house.
Mitch, the man she’d been falling in love with, was a Hunter.
But she didn’t know of any families called McQuoid.
That meant he was lying to her. Which probably meant this was a trap.
She had to deny all knowledge and find an escape route ASAP.
Mitch closed his eyes. “Yes. They’ve taken those whom they thought could lead them to their goal and tortured and murdered them.”
“Is Mitch McQuoid your real name?” Jess demanded. Would Mitch answer?
“Yes and no. The surname is one I chose,” Mitch admitted.
“What’s your previous surname?”
“Mitchum Weideman.”
Jess nearly came screaming out of the chair. Weideman? As in one of the Hunter’s ruling families, Weideman? Crap, she was in deep shit here. Jess carefully looked around the kitchen and through the windows. How many Hunters were out there to bring her in? She’d walked right into this like a fool.
Disease reared its head. It snarled at Jess’s turmoil of emotions. Jess didn’t want to deal with the Sin now and stomped on it, but she barely had control of it. If they attacked, she’d release Sin in all its ugliness. Disease subsided a little when it realised that Jess was keeping it leashed.
“You know that name?” Mitch said, confused.
“I’ve heard of it,” Jess said carefully.
“How?”
“You said they hunted humans,” Jess replied, leaving the sentence hanging. Mitch closed his eyes.
“Oh God, they killed your family,” Mitch said, horrified.
Jess neither denied nor confirmed it.
“Jess, oh shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say, fuck!” Mitch ranted as he stepped towards her and then moved back again.
Jess shook her head. It was a masterful performance, but she didn’t trust it.
“Jess, I swear, I’m not them. Alfred and my father disgust me,” Mitch swore.
“You still call Alexander father,” she whispered, and Mitch closed his eyes in horror.
“Not because I’m fond of him, Jess. But because Alexander sired me, that’s all. And usually, I refer to him by name. Alexander,” Mitch said.
Alfred and Alexander Weideman. Monsters of the worst kind.
Mitch was right when he said they were vile; they were beyond that.
His ancestors had been part of the capture of Harpy and Basilisk.
The torture they had committed was the thing nightmares were made of.
Mitch’s family was the cruellest of the cruel, and they’d tortured Saviours when they failed to find a Legendary Shifter.
Jess stared at Mitch. Hell’s bells. She’d kissed a man whose lineage was responsible for murdering at least two of her siblings.
Bile rose in her throat, and Jess rushed over to the rubbish bin and vomited.
Mitch made a distressed noise, but Jess kept heaving.
His hand landed on her back, and Jess cringed away from him, holding up her own to keep Mitch away.
“Oh, baby,” Mitch crooned, guilt in his voice.
Jess threw up once more. She’d been falling in love with a Hunter. A criminal. Someone who’d slit her throat the minute he knew what she was. Jess had to get out before Mitch realised he had one of his targets in his home. Because that’s what Jess was to Mitch. Prey.
His large hand hauled her hair back as the mere thought caused her to heave again. Her belly rebelled until there was nothing left, and then his hand appeared, offering her a tissue. Jess wiped her mouth and dropped it in the bin.
“I need to leave,” she said huskily.
“Drink this first,” Mitch said, holding out a glass of water. Jess eyed it suspiciously, and Mitch looked hurt. “Jess, I’m not them!”
“You share their bloodline, were taught at the knee to hate, to torture and maim, to kill. How many have you harmed, Mitch?” Jess bit out. The taste in her mouth was awful, but Jess wouldn’t drink from that glass.
Mitch bent down and opened the fridge. “Pick your own out.”
Instead, Jess walked to the sink, cupped her hand, and washed her mouth out. She turned to him. “I need to leave, Mitch.”
“Jess, please, I’m not like them. I couldn’t do what they did,” Mitch begged. He looked devastated.
“You were taught to lie before you could even speak, Mitch. How can I trust you?” Jess demanded. The truth was, she couldn’t.