Witch Doctor

CHAPTER 12 | loss

📎A/N. Hello my lovelies!

I hope you enjoy the chapter, it's not short, so settle back and grab some popcorn. 

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From the flutter of curtains as they approached the house, Ryker knew either Grant or Maize had been alerted to their arrival.

The familiar surroundings brought back fond memories. He had been to this house so many times over the years he had lost count. Ann's parents counted among the few people he trusted. While he knew and socialised with half of Essex County, he could count on one hand, those that he considered friends.

It had come as much a surprise to him, as to them, when as a small child Ann had insisted a Vampire come for dinner. What had been more extraordinary, was that after the initial uncomfortable first part of the evening, he'd actually enjoyed himself. More surprisingly, was that it was the first of many.

As Ann, or, as she was better known as—Annie, grew and bloomed into a remarkable young woman with endless possibilities, so did his friendship with her parents.

How he had befriended a pair of witches was beyond him. Over the years he had questioned it less and less, preferring to just accept it and enjoy the limited time he ultimately knew they had. He had celebrated all their successes and each milestone as Annie, and her sister Velvet grew.

Outside of Deacon, he considered them as an extension of his family.

Ryker's guilt only amplified with each step he took down the well-worn path. If he was so much of a friend, why did it take him four days to go back and see them after he had to break the tragic news to them?

Because you couldn't face the fact that it was your job to protect her, and you failed, that's why.

A vice like grip squeezed at his chest. He had been living in fear, not capable of facing them again. Ryker didn't think he'd be able to endure the condemnation that he was sure would be written all over their faces.

"Are you all right?"

Ryker mentally shook himself and glanced at Keira. Her mystical green eyes were staring at him questioningly.

Instead of replying, he pressed the doorbell and took off his hat. As the door edged open, his throat became parched and he felt like someone had just dragged sandpaper down it.

Grant's red-rimmed eyes were staring back at him. Ryker was taken aback to see no sign of accusation or retribution. His friend was a man lost in his grief. Wordlessly, Grant stood back and indicated for them to come in.

Keira entered first. As Ryker passed the grief-stricken man, something made him stop and place a hand on Grant's shoulder. For a moment, they made eye contact. The pain he could feel from Grant was overwhelming. His friend's face crumpled, the effort to hold back the tears was disintegrating. Not knowing the words to say to a parent who had lost a child, Ryker tightened his grip on Grant's shoulder.

In his very long lifetime, death had been a constant. Humans aged. It was a fact of life. Death came in all shapes and sizes, and more than once, it had been by his hand. Ryker had learned the hard way to accept it. However, until now, it had been easy. He had grown up an orphan, so, until Deacon he had no concept of family.

Grant wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Did you find who did this?" he asked.

Ryker glanced at Keira and noticed her eyes were glazed, and she was blinking rapidly. "That's what we're here about."