AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her actions seemed to work because Griffin went suddenly rigid as a statue, just as Avery had earlier in the South Tower.
“That’s better. You are a strong one,” she said, panting a little. “And savage too! Of course, that’s all to my benefit. It made it easy for the others on the Council to believe that you’d have no problem murdering those two Norm girls.”
In the slowly growing light, I saw Griffin’s pale eyes grow wide with shock.
“You…you did that?” His voice was hoarse with uncertainty.
“As far as anyone knows, you did it,” she said, giving him a nasty smile. “I certainly went to the trouble to make it look like you had, anyway.” She made a face. “Draining all that blood was such a messy business but it certainly convinced the Council of your guilt.”
What a bitch! I couldn’t believe she’d framed Griffin for murder and had him punished all these years with the terrible, painful thirst. I’d known Winifred Rattcliff was not to be trusted almost from the moment I’d met her but I’d had no idea just how awful she really was!
“Why?” Griffin’s voice was hoarse. “Why would you do that to me? What had I ever done to you?”
“Why, it wasn’t what you’d done but what you were going to do—if you got the chance, that is,” Winifred said, frowning at him. “And you almost did, you naughty boy,” she went on, scolding him as though he was a child. “I knew, you see, that you were the last unmated male descendant left of the founder of Nocturne Academy. And I further knew that if you were allowed to join with this little witch here—” she nodded at me, “the two of you would disrupt the balance of power for the entire Other world and ruin everything. And I couldn’t allow that, could I? So I took precautions.”
She tapped one puce fingernail against the black lock in the hollow of his throat and looked at him meaningfully.
“You’re not afraid of me—you’re afraid of Megan,” Griffin said angrily. “You’re afraid she’s stronger than you—afraid she’ll displace you as head of the Windermere Coven!”
“Oh, I know she would—if she got the chance,” Winifred Rattcliff said, smiling nastily. “But she’s not going to—you’re going to help me see to that, lover boy.”
“What are you talking about?” Griffin demanded.
“You’ll see,” she snapped and then, to the three witches holding him she said, “Put him in the snare with her—do it now!”
I could see that Griffin was trying to fight but her spell still had him completely immobile except for his head.
“What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” he demanded as they lifted him bodily and pushed him into the hammock with me. We ended up nearly face to face, with Griffin lying on top of me, which would have been extremely pleasant if the circumstances had been different. As it was, I was scared to death, wondering what in the world the senior witch had in mind.
“Megan? Are you all right?” Griffin asked me anxiously.
Of course I couldn’t talk, but I nodded my head—the most that I could move.
“It’s going to be all right—we’ll get out of this,” he promised me. I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t see how we could possibly escape since we were both immobilized—me tied with ropes and Griffin bound with a spell.
My greatest fear was that now she had us both in one place, the senior sitch would burn us—set the hammock on fire with both of us inside and then try to pass it off as some kind of bizarre accident. I doubted my Aunt Dellie would buy such an unlikely ending for her niece but would anyone care if she had doubts? After all, she was only a Null—what could she do about it if I suddenly died?
But as it turned out, Winifred Rattcliff had an even worse plan for us.
“Now then, my darlings,” she said, bending over the hammock to look at Griffin and me lying together. “Are you both nice and comfy?”
I glared at her and Griffin twisted his head around as well as he could to look at her.
“What do you want with us?” he demanded. “Is this some kind of spell you’re planning to work to keep yourself in power?”
“Oh no! No, it’s not a spell, at all,” Winifred exclaimed, her eyes going wide and innocent behind her glasses. “No, you could say that what follows here will be just Nature taking its course. Nocturne Nature, anyway.”
I had no idea what she was talking about and from Griffin’s face, he didn’t either.
“Do you know,” she went on, in a conversational tone, “What they used to do to condemned prisoners in ancient times when they wanted them to have a really painful end? They would sew them in a sack with a wild animal—a predator of some kind. A wildcat, say or a wolf…” Leaning down, she stroked Griffin’s cheek lightly.
