Page 123 of Prodigal Son

The young witch, Juniper, was moved to a holding cell in the basement of the safe house. At first, when her thoughts were chaotic and her hysteria at its worst, they had been able to compel her. But as her mind calmed and her resentment toward her keepers grew, she became more and more blocked.

The bishop referred to her as a plebe, a young, untrained witch, still in the infancy of her shadow work. Cain ignored her, as did Dane, whenever they visited Cybil.

Abilene’s water broke late August and Jaden Hartzler was born. Their mother chose the name Jaden because it meant “thankful,” but their mother did not mother this one as she had the rest of them.

Their father was absent for too many moments, emotionally trapped in a physical prison while life carried on. Despite his care and nutrition, his body was at odds, rejecting certain food sources and wasting away. Without proper blood nourishment, immortals would inevitably desiccate and mummify. It seemed that might have been the witches’ goal all along.

Abilene was too distraught to do more than nurse the babe. Her mood had been so solemn, she rarely played or even cooed at the little one, but she also refused to let anyone else near him, claiming Jaden’s presence comforted Jonas. Cain believed no such thing was true.

He and his siblings would speak of their father’s fate in private, far away from their mother who had already suffered enough. It had become a habit for Cain and Dane to gather at Adam’s for supper, since Gracie was the best cook and their mother would not leave their father’s side. This also gave Larissa time alone with her family.

Gracie saw secondhand what their father had done to provoke the witches and still found his behavior disturbing and unforgivable. Her conscience was not clean and she’d likely struggle with that guilt for an eternity.

Adam questioned why their father wouldn’t have told someone that he suffered lingering symptoms from the calling. Cain just assumed this was one more way for life, love, and loyalty to destroy any chance of peace in their family.

No good intention went unpunished.

“His intentions weren’t good,” Grace argued, overhearing his thoughts one night at supper.

“They could have just helped him.”

“Witches do not work with immortals. They have very specific laws that prevent them from defying nature.”

“If you ask me, we’re all cursed.”

No one objected to Cain’s theory because they all feared it might be true. For the time being, they would count their blessings and pray no other harm landed on their hearth.

The band of brothers was making headway in the woods. Being that Cain was staying at the safe house, he had access to firsthand information as it arrived. They had destroyed many of the ill-bred transitions but had yet to capture Isaiah.

The males took shifts policing the woods so that no other murders occurred. According to The Council, it wouldn’t be long before they apprehended Isaiah, at which point he would most likely be executed.

When the fall harvest concluded and the green leaves changed to vibrant shades of gold, scarlet, and plum, construction started on the new house. There was much to do before the first snow, and they all seemed aware that a house would not return any sense of home.

Their family was suffering. Only the babies brought a sense of hope to the overall shroud that followed them. Adam complained of an overwhelming sense of pity emanating from others, and Gracie hated overhearing their simpering thoughts.

“They think they’re better than us,” she complained one night at supper.

“Who cares what they think,” Anna argued. “They don’t know what we’ve been through.”

“They know enough.” Gracie cleared the table. “Vicious gossips is what they are.”

Time moved on, and The Council made no decision regarding Cybil’s fate or the witch’s. Cain visited the safe house cells every night when the witch slept. Dane, however, visited during the day and would occasionally converse with the young girl.

“You must be careful, Dane,” Gracie warned the following week after finding out Dane spoke to the witch. “That witch is more powerful than she realizes and she lacks self-control.”

“She’s not evil. If The Elders would talk to her, they’d realize—”

“They have nothing to say to her and neither should you,” Gracie interrupted. “She hurt my father and thereby hurt my mother and us.”

“Your father threw the first stone.”

Gracie stood, rattling the dishes with her abruptness, and scowled down at Dane with disapproval. “If not for my family, you would be homeless. Where do your loyalties lie, I wonder?” She stormed off before he could respond.

“I was just trying to make a point.”

Cain chuckled. “If I were you, I’d stay away from the plebe and all other young females so long as Gracie’s unattached.”

Dane frowned. “What does that mean?”

---