Page 88 of Witchbane

I began to speak but he talked over me, obviously determined to have his say. ‘Go now, as quickly as you can.’ He pointed over my right shoulder. ‘Keep going in that direction. You should end up somewhere near your family estate. Find Pierre and tell him what’s happened.’

‘I’m not sure I know what to say,’ I said, mostly to myself.

‘That’s not surprising.’ He pressed his fingers to his temples and winced. ‘I imagine your aunt and grandmother will have been arrested along with the other women. They’ll be taken to the castle to be questioned. Tell Pierre to go there and ask to see them on some pretext. He could possibly take them shawls, or something to eat and drink, because who knows what they’ll be expected to survive on otherwise.’

‘I’ll go myself.’

He frowned. ‘No, Rue.’ He gave me a sympathetic shake of his head. ‘That place is not somewhere you should see.’ I took a breath to argue but he raised his hand and carried on talking. ‘You’ll only be offering yourself up to my father if you’re seen there. Either he or one of the other men is bound to have seen you here tonight.’ He closed his eyes wearily before looking into my eyes once more. ‘If only you weren’t a witch,’ he groaned.

His sadness stung. I was a witch, had been born to be exactly who I was now. ‘I have no choice in the matter,’ I said. ‘Not that I would change who I am, even for you.’

He rested his hands on my shoulders but didn’t speak. He didn’t need to; the pain in his eyes was clear for me to see even in the moonlight.

‘You’re sad I’m not the woman you imagined me to be, isn’t that right?’

‘It is, if you want the truth.’

‘Is it really so terrible that I’m a witch?’

He glowered at me. ‘Don’t mock me, Rue. I am still the Witchfinder’s assistant, and regardless of how I feel for you, I must carry out my duties.’

I was shocked that someone who apparently had feelings for me could still threaten to hand me over to his diabolical father.

We stared at each other in silence. I looked deep into his eyes and saw his need to do what was right, but also his shame: either because he couldn’t do more for me, or because he was being disloyal to his father and the work he was trained to carry out. I realised that I needed to be completely honest with him. It mattered that Theo should know the truth about what the witches in my family did.

‘Contrary to what you clearly believe about us, the women in this coven only come together for the good of others, or ourselves. We cast spells to protect those close to us who need it.’

‘You did that before tonight?’

I wasn’t sure whether he was being sarcastic. Deciding to be honest with him, I nodded. ‘We did.’ I smiled. ‘And didn’t you come to my aid, helping me to evade capture?’

I could see he wasn’t happy to discover he had become part of our spell without knowing it.

I took his hands in mine, feeling him flinch at the touch of my skin against his. ‘Theo, that time I caused you pain…’

He glanced at his chest before frowning and looking at me. ‘That was you after all?’

‘I’m afraid it was.’

His head moved back. ‘You admit you hurt me on purpose but wish me to believe I should trust you?’

I winced. ‘It was only once and because you upset me.’ I tightened my grip on his hands when he went to pull them away. ‘But I’ve only ever done that one other time since I was a child, and really shouldn’t have done it at all. My grandmother and the other witches in our coven would be extremely angry with me if they found out.’

He stared at me, clearly shaken. ‘You’re admitting that you can hurt someone simply by thinking about it?’

‘Sort of.’

‘And you expect me to believe that witches are gentle creatures who do no harm.’

I threw his hands from mine, infuriated with him for not giving me the benefit of the doubt. Seeing fear in his eyes, I reined my temper in. This was not the way to get my point across.

‘We are not cruel, like your father,’ I said, still angry. ‘Or mean. We help others in whatever way we can, and if that means casting protection spells, or binding spells to stop negativity coming our way, or gossip, then so be it. Mostly, though⁠—’

There was a rustling in the bushes nearby and we were still, looking around us in case his father or one of the other men had discovered us. After a while, when we were certain there wasn’t anyone there, we relaxed and I was about to continue.

‘Rue, we don’t have time for this,’ he said.

‘I don’t care. You need to know our lives aren’t filled with the things people like your father would have you believe.’