Wicked Hunt

Chapter Fifteen, Part III

Victoria: A Gathering Of Witches 

He's going to make me choose. He's going to force my hand right here out in the open. The sorry bastard. Warring thoughts of her decision to back Perry swirled violently in her head. That was how he worked. There was always some reaction to any action, equal in measure and punishment. Everything that happened to him, even if it seemed like a setback, could be spun to his advantage and make him become the hero.

Sighing dramatically, Victoria spun around. "Perry!" she called. "Wait." The room tilted, every person seeming to hold their breath. "Stay," she ordered as Perry came back toward the group, a foolish grin spread wide on his face. "Stay and say your piece," she hissed lowly when he stopped directly in front of her.

"Our piece, you mean?" he asked, chuckling.

"What's going on here?" Jamal's sister Faraday demanded with bared teeth. The same, strange amber eyes flared with animosity.

"This isn't the time for that sort of talk yet," Victoria pressed, eyes boring into Perry's. His eyes danced mischievously, but he paused, scooping her hand into his large paw and caressing her fingers several times before bringing them up to his mouth. He kissed them gently and patted her wrist. She tried to pull it back with vehemence but could hardly muster such harsh feelings when her throat had constricted, and her breath had been caught within its shrunken walls. She fought to swallow, to get her bearings.

Years ago, Perry had almost persuaded her to marry him. He sang her a pretty tune of passionate evenings, lavish dinner parties with his hoards of friends, the clever banter her mind craved. She had thought she was in love with him, so swaying were his sweet whispers. He nearly had the deed and marriage contract drawn up before she'd even said yes. However, something about his proposition seemed too good to be true. Gemma had warned her, but like the defiant, young girl she was, she ignored her mother's pleas, even going so far as staying with Perry at his home fortress in the Frost Keep.

He turned into a different man then, a scheming, conniving one, bent on driving her to make a decision she didn't fully understand. She snuck and read through the paperwork he was pressing her to sign. Upon their marriage, all the lands that had belonged to her family for centuries would pass into her husband's greedy hands. Cascade Castle, the Green Lake, and the crypts beneath the fortress would all be his. He had not left a stone unturned, not left an inch was not accounted for. She had burned the papers in the fireplace after. Then, she left, fleeing back to Cascade Castle, and Gemma's chastising eyes.

"That is why we, of the old faith can never marry, never love," Gemma hold told her coldly. "We Drake women are creatures of passion, giving an immeasurable depth to our hearts over our minds. We stop thinking clearly."

"Let me handle this," Perry urged more seriously, as Victoria's mind went swimming. She felt as if she were drowning, trying to come up for air. She knew what was right and what was wrong, Perry just kept holding her head down.

"Later," she insisted, stomping her foot for emphasis. Something flashed in Perry's emerald eyes. Defiance. Respect. Hatred. Lust. She could not say. She forced herself to turn back to the crowd, which had stopped moving and watched them curiously. Jamal Denizen looked unfazed, a knowing look on his face. Instantly, Victoria hated herself for falling prey, once more to Perry's games. She had just revealed that she was still under his spell, he still held some sway over her. She was on his side. It was exactly what he had wanted to happen.

Suddenly, she lunged away from him, smoothing her long black hair down. She clasped her hands together, using her thumb to pointedly cover the spot where Perry's lips had met her skin.

"I think we should show them the Grimoire, Mother, don't you?" she asked sweetly, as if nothing had happened. Behind her the door clicked shut. Perry Gritt had left the room, leaving the witches to do their bidding. She had not heard his heavy footsteps.

"Jillian," Gemma rasped impatiently, swatting her on the back. Unfazed, Jillian went to a table near the far fireplace. The light from the flames cast crude shadows at her feet. Victoria watched as the dark figures writhed and jerked, hardly matching her cousin's smooth movements. She swallowed.

"How long has this been going on?" Leona asked, pointing her finger at the dancing shadows.

"It comes and goes," Victoria replied, grateful that the others were taking her cues, grateful that at least for a time, Perry Gritt was forgotten from the room.

Until later, she reminded herself. And don't forget that you actually agreed with the man. But why? Had he mesmerized her again? Or did she truly believe the words he had preached to her?

"I think Fox should leave the room as well," Jamal said, nodding to Lorik. He had given him the nickname long ago when Lorik had been fostering with Faraday's son Ronan in Hawthorn ten years ago. Unlike Perry, Lorik went without a fuss. Victoria did not look up as he left.

Jillian turned and shut the drawer, the tattered book in her arms. An audible gasp shuddered through the room. Theo stepped outside the main door and closed it heavily behind him. Now, they were alone.

"Give it to me," Jamal ordered. The book was carefully placed into his outstretched hands. He held his staff in the crook of his arm, the magic humming from it like a group of bees. He was perhaps the most powerful coven member, able to channel magic from many of the earth's elements. Hs most notable strength was control of the wind.

"What do you see?" Gemma asked. She inched closer, her fingers groping around until the snatched at Jillian's arm.

"Dark magic indeed," Jamal mused. He passed the Grimoire to Faraday. She sniffed it before turning the book over. A few charred pieces of one of the pages fell and shattered on the floor.

Sensing the breaking pages, Gemma hissed, "Careful, you moose."

Faraday snapped the book shut. "I would not be rude to those whose assistance you require."

"Stop bickering," Jamal said as he motioned for her to hand the book to Leona Streamling. Gingerly, it was placed in her hands.

"The Black Stag has infused it with its darkness and shadows," Leona remarked. "Did you try a banishing spell?"

"We've tried everything," Victoria said defensively. She crossed her arms.

"We will need a conduit, to entice the magic out of it." Jamal whispered something to Ronan. He raised his head up and continued speaking to the rest of the group. "Can we go somewhere more private?"

"Take them into the solar," Gemma said. The group quickly filed into the room and shut the door behind them. The windows surrounding them provided ample lighting. The Grimoire was illuminated as it was placed upon the cold floor, burned and charred. It looked pathetic under the glow of the fading sun. The snake insignia was illegible. Jamal removed his cloak and gripped his staff firmly as he moved into the center of the room.