Of Witches and Warlocks: The Complete Series

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When I resurfaced it was to find myself in Vance's arms. We were still on the floor, but he'd sat up, moving so he could lean against the wall. Though he held onto me tightly, he was sleeping, his face buried tenderly in the crook of my neck. Reaching up, I gently pushed my fingers into his thick hair, stroking it lovingly.

He stirred slightly, letting out a soft moan before jerking suddenly awake with a wild desperation in his eyes, as if he just remembered what was going on around him.

"Portia?" he said softly, his voice filled with urgency. "Baby, are you okay?" He glanced down my body, and I followed the path his eyes trailed.

I was covered in dried blood, mostly his, but a bit of my own as well, and it looked like I'd been through a massacre. It was obvious he was assuming the worst.

"What did he do to you?" he choked out, his fingertips squeezing hard into my skin causing me to wince.

"Vance. You're hurting me," I whispered, and immediately he released me, mumbling an apology under his breath. "I'm okay," I added, reassuring him. "Most of this blood is yours."

Burying his face back into my neck, I heard him release a strangled sob. "I was almost positive he had . . . ." He stopped, unable to finish giving voice to his thought, but I knew what he meant. I held him close, letting him vent his pent up emotions.

This had to be one of the most difficult things I'd ever done. He was devastated and in a mental place I'd never seen him before. I also knew I couldn't lie to soften the blow. I had to tell him the truth.

"After he attacked you, he froze me," I began, and the very words caused him to still.

Vance didn't lift his head, or say anything—he just waited for me to continue on.

"He has my dad. He showed him to me. He's manacled to a chair just like you were, and Damien has been feeding from him."

"Oh, Portia," Vance let out a deep sigh, hugging me tighter. "I'm so sorry, baby. I had no idea. He never said anything about him to me."

"There's more," I said, and I felt him stiffen again.

"Go on."

I barged right in, my words coming out like an eruption I couldn't stop, my body shaking. "He kissed me—intimately. I couldn't do anything about it. He ran his hands over my skin, touching me."

Vance's breathing rate increased and he gripped me harder. "What else," he growled, and his rage washed over me.

My voice trembled as I continued. "He fed from me. From my wrist, my collarbone, and my bottom lip."

I was surprised when Vance suddenly lifted me, setting me aside and standing abruptly. Rubbing his face roughly, he moved his hands up into his hair, grasping fistfuls and letting out a terrifying roar of frustration that echoed loudly off the cavern walls.

I jumped, frightened by the emotions rolling off him, but I understood where he was coming from too. He didn't look at me, and I felt ashamed, dirty, violated. I wondered if he would ever even want to touch me again.

"No!" he shouted, turning to look at me with wild eyes. "You stop it right now!" he yelled, pointing at me, and I started crying.

"Stop what?" I asked, hating the anger I saw.

"Quit thinking what you're thinking!" Gripping me by the shoulders, he shook me. "This is not your fault! None of this is your fault!" His voice softened then. "You're a victim in all of this, baby. Don't let doubts prey on you now. You've done nothing wrong."