Page 75 of Witch's Promise

That's when he saw it – a single drop of crimson, stark against the pristine hardwood floor. Sean's gaze snapped upward, following the path of the blood to a dark stain spreading across the ceiling.

"Shit," Sean hissed, his heart racing as he searched for a way up to the second floor. But there were no stairs, no obvious access point to whatever horrors awaited above.

Just as frustration threatened to overwhelm him, Sean's eye caught on a thin cord dangling from the ceiling. An attic access, hidden in plain sight. With trembling fingers, Sean yanked on the cord, sending a rickety wooden staircase clattering down.

He ascended quickly, every creak of the old wood setting his nerves further on edge. As Sean's head cleared the opening, the musty scent of the attic hit him like a physical blow. But it was the sight that greeted him that truly stole the breath from his lungs.

There, in the oppressive darkness of the attic, was his father. He was hung suspended from the rafters, thick ropes biting into his wrists. Blood trickled from a dozen shallow cuts, testament to the torture he'd already endured.

"Dad!" Sean gasped, rushing forward without a thought for his own safety. He reached up, fingers fumbling with the gag that had been shoved into his father's mouth.

As the cloth fell away, his father’s eyes, wild with a fear Sean had never seen in them before, locked onto his son's face. "Sean?" he croaked, his voice raw and disbelieving. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sean worked at the ropes binding his father's wrists, cursing under his breath as the knots refused to give. "What does it look like? I'm saving your ass, old man."

His father shook his head frantically, renewing his struggles against his bonds. "No, you idiot! You need to leave, now! Before Riley gets back. You don't understand what you've walked into."

The panic in his father's voice sent a chill down Sean's spine. He'd seen his dad face down rival assassins, corrupt politicians, and supernatural threats that would send most men running for the hills. To see him this shaken, this genuinely afraid...

"Dad," Sean said slowly, forcing his own rising panic down. "What's going on? What did Riley do to you?"

His father’s’s laugh was a broken, bitter thing. "It's not what he did, son. It's what he is. Riley, he's not... he's not human. Not anymore."

Before Sean could process that bombshell, a new voice cut through the darkness. Smooth, cultured, and dripping with malice.

"Now, now, Viktor. Don't go spoiling all my surprises."

The attic suddenly flooded with harsh, artificial light, momentarily blinding Sean. As his eyes adjusted, he felt his stomach drop. There, just a few feet from his father, lay twomore bodies. His brain took a moment to process what he was seeing, but when it did, the realization hit him like a freight train.

"Fuck me," Sean breathed, recognizing the unconscious forms of Caroline and Dexter Wisteria. Their clothes were torn and bloodied, evidence of the torture they'd endured. "What the hell have you done, Riley?"

Before he could move towards them, a hand fisted in his hair, yanking his head back painfully. Sean found himself staring into Riley's eyes, now glowing with an unnatural, predatory light.

"Tsk, tsk, Sean," Riley purred, his breath hot against Sean's ear. "I told you to bring the girl. And yet, here you are, all alone. What are you playing at? Do you really want these people to die?"

Anger and desperation surged through Sean. Using every ounce of training his father had drilled into him, he twisted out of Riley's grip, ignoring the burning pain as hair tore from his scalp. He lashed out with a vicious elbow strike, catching Riley in the solar plexus.

The blow should have doubled Riley over, but the man barely flinched. Instead, he grinned, revealing teeth that were just a bit too sharp to be human. "Oh, Sean. Is that really the best you can do?"

Sean stumbled back, his mind racing. This wasn't right. Riley had always been tough, but this... this was something else entirely. As Sean's back hit the wall, he felt something warm and sticky. Glancing down, he saw a gash in his side that he didn't remember getting. Blood seeped through his shirt, staining the fabric a deep crimson.

"Shit," Sean muttered, pressing a hand to the wound. How had Riley moved that fast? And when had he gotten a weapon?

His father’s voice, strained and desperate, cut through Sean's confusion. "Sean, run! You don't understand what he is now. He'll kill you!"

But Sean couldn't run. Not with his father and the Wisterias at Riley's mercy. He had to try, had to do something to stop this madness.

With a roar of defiance, Sean charged at Riley. He threw everything he had into a flurry of punches and kicks, each one honed by years of brutal training. But Riley dodged them all with inhuman grace, moving as if he could predict Sean's attacks before he even made them.

"Is this really all the great Sean Drake has to offer?" Riley taunted, effortlessly sidestepping another punch. "I expected more from Viktor's prized pupil."

Frustration and fear clawed at Sean's insides. He needed an edge, something to turn the tide of this one-sided fight. Instinctively, he reached for the shadows, trying to bend them to his will as he'd done countless times before.

But there was nothing. The attic, so brightly lit now, offered no refuge of darkness for Sean to manipulate. Riley had planned this perfectly, stripping Sean of his greatest weapon.

"Looking for these?" Riley asked, gesturing lazily. To Sean's horror, the few shadows cast by the attic's sparse furniture began to writhe and twist, coalescing around Riley like a living shroud. "I'm afraid they answer to me now, old friend."

Desperation lending him strength, Sean feinted left before pivoting into a brutal roundhouse kick. For a moment, it seemed like Riley had finally slipped up. The kick connected solidly with the side of his head, the impact sending Riley flying into the far wall with a sickening crack.

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