“I did the thing with my fist like you taught me, Dev.” She smiled at him, and Ash watched Devon’s frown turn to a smile.
Ash knew the power of that smile.
“I should have got her away from him sooner,” he said.
“No, you will not take the blame for this,” Essie said. “This is on him for believing us witches.”
Which now had some merit to it, and yet Ash knew they were not bad people.
“Why were you there, Dorrie?” Somer asked.
Ash knew what he had to do then. She would be all right; her family would ensure it, especially now he knew what they were capable of.
“Thank you for telling me about your… your family, but please excuse me.” Ash nodded then turned and left the room.
“No!” Dorrie’s cry did not stop him. “Stop him, he’s going after Murray Brunt!”
How she knew that, he wasn’t sure, but she was right. He’d make certain the man never hurt a Sinclair again, and definitely not her. Dorset had snuck inside him. But it mattered not. He could not contemplate a future while Radcliff still breathed.
Sinclairs married Ravens after saving them.
He was running by the time he was out the door. Ash made it to the village in a matter of minutes, the memory of the journey to Oaks Knoll, carrying Dorrie bleeding in his arms, still fresh in his mind.
She could have been killed, and the man who had hurt her would pay.
“Where is he?” He found Mrs. Radcliff seated outside her house, rocking back and forth in her chair.
“One of the locals is holding him in his house. He can’t leave. The back door is nailed shut. We’ll get the magistrate when the fever has passed.”
“I’m killing him.”
“As you should, but then you’d be no better than him. And there has been enough death in this town.” She rocked back and forth. “Come and sit. You look pale.”
“I don’t want to sit,” he gritted out.
“Because you have learned about them?” she said softly. “And it has shaken you.”
“You know?”
“I do, and always have.”
He looked at the sky and fought for control. Tried to clear the turmoil inside his head.
“Come, Ash, sit with me.”
“He must be made to pay,” Ash said softly, looking at her again. At least this he could rationalize. Something in him demanded revenge after seeing her hurting.
The man outside Brunt’s house was Stephen Frudge. He and Ash had worked alongside each other burying people and doing what needed to be done.
“I’m going inside, Stephen.”
The man simply stepped aside. Ash entered the house to find Murray Brunt seated in a chair drinking out of a mug.
“Get up,” Ash said.
“Get out of my house!”
“I said, get up.”
