Fiona tried to shrug, but the chains prevented it. “I guess to prove that he can. His father never forgave him for letting Rayanne live. He never said it outright, but I always got the sense that everything he did in his adult life was all just some elaborate scheme to win back his father’s approval.”
His father. Dirty Beard. The man who’d slit Calla’s throat while I watched helplessly from the root cellar.
Once he’d finished with my mother, he’d ordered his son to take care of me. Only, Jonathan wasn’t able to hurt me then—not physically. Calla had cast a protective spell around me, rendering me impervious to any attacks. The only thing Jonathan could do was spit at me and make threats.
Last time I expect a boy to do a man's job,his father had said, smacking the back of his head.Leave her, fool boy. Unless you want to burn.
The guys fell silent again, their minds undoubtedly playing out their own versions of the horror show she’d just painted.
Technology. Inventions. Hybrids. Experiments.
The words spun through my head, blurring at the edges. What did Jonathan hope to accomplish? If his experiments worked, and his father finally gave him that elusive approval, what then? Would they team up, hunt down more witches, set their little half-breed army on the loose?
Every time we got a little closer to the true path, four more branched off in its place, darker and more tangled than the last.
“Where is he?” I asked her. “Where does he do these experiments? Where is he keeping them?”
“That, I don’t know.” Fiona shook her head, releasing an unnecessary sigh I was certain was for our benefit. “He never took me there. After he told me about his experiments, I freaked out. I told him I couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Really?” I asked. “We’re supposed to believe that?”
“Say what you want about me, but I never signed up to hurt or kill anyone. I thought he was just trying to get his magic back. I didn’t want any part of that other stuff.”
“There is no magic to get back,” I told her. “Hunters don’t have magic. That’s the whole point. They’re just trying to steal it.”
“They say the same about witches,” she said.
“What happened when you told him you wanted out?” Asher asked.
She closed her eyes, shuddering. “He said it didn’t matter what I wanted. If I bailed on him, he’d go after my family. My mom. My little brother. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“So you stayed?” Asher asked.
Fiona nodded. “But things were different between us after that. He stopped telling me about his plans, where he spent his time, what he was working on. He’d come to me for more blood, and that was it. But it was obvious things weren’t going according to plan in Blackmoon Bay. He was unraveling. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay. I confronted him again, told him I was absolutely done this time.”
“What did he say?” Asher asked.
“Nothing. Not one word. Just nodded and opened the door, waiting for me to walk out. His silence was worse than any outright threat. I’ve spent every day since wondering if today’s the day he’s going to come after me, or worse—my family.” Her eyes flicked to Darius, glazing with what I was certain were fake tears. “I lied when I said I thought you were a visitor. I thought you were one of Jonathan’s men, finally coming to end me. Truthfully, I was relieved. I can’t… I can’t keep living like this.”
“Cry me an ocean, Fiona,” I said, breaking free from Darius and Emilio. “Who exactly are we supposed to feel sorry for here? You? Your mother? Your brother? What about the witches he’s killed? What about the friends and family left to pick up the pieces?”
“You don’t have to like me, Gray.” she said, lowering her head once again. “You can spend the rest of your life hating me—I get it. But if I were in your shoes right now, I’d spend less energy blaming me for a past that I can’t change and more energy trying to figure out how to stop him before one of his experiments actually succeeds.”
“That’s good advice, Feefs,” I said. “You’re wrong about one thing, though. I don’t hate you. Hating someone requires giving a shit about them in the first place.”
“We were friends once,” she said, her eyes softening.
“That was a long time ago.”
“For what it’s worth, I… I’m sorry.”
Her voice broke on the last word, tears streaking her face. For a fraction of a second, my heart hurt for her. She’d spent her entire life loving a man who never loved her a back. A man whom I suspected was incapable of loving anyone but himself. She’d sacrificed her humanity for him, and in the end, he’d probably betray her anyway, just like he’d done to me.
So maybe I should’ve felt sorry for Fiona. For the girl I went to school with, the one who followed us around and wanted so, so badly to be liked.
But thisthingin front of me was not Fiona; as far as I was concerned, that girl died. She was merely a vampire who’d colluded with the man who’s family killed my mother. She’d helped him murder Sophie. Because of her actions, he was able to kill and hurt and kidnap other witches. He was hurting them still.
And then, when she finally decided to grow a shred of a conscience, instead of trying to make things right, she turned tail and ran.
