“You said you were going to be here, waiting with the shifters!” Mona shouts. “That was our deal!”
“Hmm, yes, well, you said you weren’t going to bring your mates along. Looks like we’re both liars.”
“I didn’t tell him! I didn’t know he was here! Please, you have to let them go!”
Mona uselessly thrashes against the witch’s iron grip. Deidre pays her no mind, fixing her gaze on me instead. There’s no mistaking the glint in her eyes—something tells me she’s pleased I’m here.
“So. What do we do with you?” she says slowly. “I suppose you’d like to stay with your mate?” She asks, raising one eyebrow.
“You are not taking her anywhere,” I hiss.
Three witches zap me with magic. I throw up a shield, but I’m a second too late, and it lashes at my skin, making me hiss. Deidre laughs.
Mona keeps arguing, struggling, begging. Finally, Deidre grunts. “I’m not a monster, sweetie. You’re right, we did have a deal, but you broke your end of the bargain.” Deidre’s eyes are still tracking me.
“Ben,” she addresses me.
“Name’s not Ben.”
“Right… What is it they call you? The shifter boogeyman? The Ghost?” She knew my name wasn’t Ben. She’s known all along who I am. At least since we escaped their attack in Canada, after I locked her and that weak-ass witch in the house.
“Ghost’ll do,” I drawl.
She hums. “Any relation to Tali of the Westward Coven?”
I try to hold in my reaction, to not show her what hearing that name does to me. But she sees it. “Ahh, yes… you’re Tali’s famous son. Born a shifter… turned out you were also a witch. How fascinating. I’m sorry to hear about what happened to yourfather. But your parents were warned of the consequences of their actions. The fault lies with them. Shame what happened to him, though. How is your mother these days?”
“Do not speak of my mother,” I hiss.
“Yes, well. Someday, perhaps, she and I will meet again. Personally, I had no connection with the Westward witches, but my dear sister Tracy had a lover in their coven, so I’m not sure she’ll forgive so easily. Before you returned and killed them all, they made sure we all knew what an abomination your mother and father created. That’s what they called you, anyway. But now, looking at you… my, my. You are something else.”
The shadow of my life as The Ghost reaches farther than I realized. Another wall between me and Mona, between me and anything resembling normal. The ledger of my past keeps growing, full of names I’m not even aware of. I catch Tracy’s eyes on Mona—calculating, cold—the way you look at something you plan to ruin. All because I apparently killed someone she loved, someone whose face I don’t even remember. How many others are out there, waiting for vengeance, plotting the moment they’ll finally come face-to-face with The Ghost—or, worse, his mate?
“Leave him alone!” Mona yells. So pure, my girl. So small, stacked against all this power, and still she fights.
“Tell you what,” Deidre says to Mona. “Since we had a deal and all—even though you broke it—I will allow your mate to join us down below.”
I throw magic out of my hand to the nearest witch, then leap for Mona. As though a vat of acid hits his skin, he begins screaming. But just before I can snatch Mona, Deidre grabs her and, with magic and her slimy fingers, chokes my mate. Mona claws at Deidre’s arm, kicks her legs, making awful gagging noises.
“Cutting off her oxygen juuust enough to make her feel like she’s dying. And with her shifter healing, she will continue tostay alive. Have you ever tried to hang a shifter? Same thing happens, far less effort. Perhaps I should have Tracy tie up a noose. Eye for an eye and all that. You killed her lover, she’ll torture yours. I do love poetic justice.”
I throw up my hands and, with all my fucking effort, keep my voice level. “No need. I won’t fight you. Please, just let her go. Please,” my voice breaks at the end.
“As I said.” The door opens behind her. Three witches pick up Andrea, who’s knocked out again. I follow, while Deidre continues speaking, as though we’re just having a casual conversation.
“You have a choice, Ghost. You can come with me willingly. I’ll even let you bunk with your mate. Or you can fight me and see what happens.”
The guys are coming. The tracker will probably stop working when I drop below. Deidre hasn’t noticed it. But even if they lose the signal, Kendrick will know our last known location.
“There’s no choice,” I tell her.
She leans close and whispers, “There’s a good boy.” Her fingers trail down my arm, making my skin crawl. I can’t help but think about what she’s done to Silas.
My last thought, as I follow the witch and two wolves into the underground silo, is that I hope Silas arrives in time to exact his vengeance on her, because the line to kill the fucking witch is getting longer.
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Chapter 36: Mona
