Page 19 of Immortal Bastard

When she’d come to the farm and attacked Jonas with black magic and burned down the Hartzler’s house, Gracie had killed Juniper’s aunt and last living relative.

The fire had been retribution, apparently, for one Jonas had started at the witches’ house. A fire that killed Juniper’s other aunt. Dane, having no family left, aside from his deranged sister, could empathize, but he spared no sympathy for the witch who could be better described as a bitch.

Jonas was sick, possibly dying because of whatever spell the witches cast. Attacking the first son of Elder Ezekiel Hartzler was not a crime the elders took lightly. And without Jonas able to speak, no decision had been made as to the witch’s future. They were hoping she might reverse the spell in time.

Gracie had warned Dane to keep his distance, but before the witch’s cell had been moved to the other end of the hall, she’d been imprisoned beside Cybil. He had no choice but to see her every night when he visited his sister.

At first, she seemed pitiful and harmless, an ignorant accomplice to her aunt’s crime, but over time he realized Gracie was right. The witch was more powerful than she let on. She couldn’t be compelled and could tolerate endless hours of what the elders called examination, which was more like an interrogation.

Though he had not personally witnessed the witch being tortured or mistreated, he often overheard her weeping in her cell, and sometimes suspected the immortal males of taking advantage of her captivity like Magdalene suggested.

More shouting erupted from the other side of the wall and Dane winced. “What are they doing with her?”

“They’re examining her. It will continue until they agree on a punishment for her crime, which won’t happen until we see the extent of Jonas’s suffering.”

Jonas was going to die. Dane sensed it in his gut. Every day he grew sicker and struggled to communicate, but never spoke a word. His life had transformed into endless suffering since the witches got ahold of him. If they wanted to show mercy, he deserved a quick death.

“Careful, my friend,” Adriel whispered. “Thoughts like that will get you shunned or worse.”

She was right, so he didn’t think long on the subject. He turned his ear back to Council Hall where several voices shouted. Over time, fewer and fewer of the males saw a reason to destroy the witch, another indicator that they found a use for keeping her locked up below.

“Can you read her?” he asked Adriel.

“The plebe? I suppose, but I have no interest.” She looked at him in confusion. “She’s mortal and roughly your age, can’t you?”

He’d tried several times, but she had him blocked. “It’s like there’s a forcefield around her mind. I sense that I could read her, but she’s doing something to stop me.”

“Witches. Never trust them.”

“So long as she’s gagged and bound, her magic remains inaccessible,” a male voice yelled. “See how she can’t protect herself when there’s pain?”

“Animals,” Adriel hissed, shutting her eyes as the muffled moans of the witch wailed through the wall.

“What are they doing to her?”

“Burning her feet.” She held her breath as the shouting grew. “They stopped, now. She’ll be fine after the healer tends to her.”

“Barbaric.”

“She tried to burn one of us alive, Dane. They would be justified to do much worse if they chose.”

“So much for Christian forgiveness.”

A cold chuckle passed her lips. “You’re smarter than that.”

He was. They might live an Amish life and worship their God through the words of the Bible, favoring verses that justified chastisement and discipline, but they also did things that weren’t Christian at all. Things that took place in the silent hours of the night under covered mouths and clenched eyes.

First and foremost, they were predators, enslaved by their animal instincts and loyal to their impulses. Immortals reveled in the hunt. They lived with an ever-present lust for blood and loved to flaunt their dominance over others. The elders had come here to curb such impulses and find a more domestic way of life, which they had, but they would never change what they were. Inside every immortal hid a vicious vampire, and the problem with vampires was that they lived forever.

The doors opened and two males dragged Juniper out. Her bare feet were charred and blistered at the souls and her head hung weakly between her shoulders, her arms still bound tightly behind her back.

Dane’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like the girl, but no one deserved that sort of mistreatment. Aside from what she’d done to Jonas, which he truly believed was the workings of her older aunt, her only other crime was taunting him and making Gracie cry.

The meeting sounded as though it were concluding, and he no longer wanted to sit there. The two immortal males returned from the basement empty-handed.

Dane stood. “I’m leaving. Let me know if I miss anything important.”

Adriel nodded, her gaze focused on her work as she carefully pulled the needle through the material. “I will. If you see my son, tell him I was looking for him.”

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