I should’ve guessed his promise came with caveats, but I still took comfort in knowing that no witches would burn today. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet. You’re taking a risk thinking I’m going to do anything that’s going to benefit you.”
“You will, in time.”
I hated how confident he sounded. Or was it delusion?
“I can’t imagine a world in which you’d possibly think that I’d believe you. Destroying Bahmet, the one tie to your power, seems like such a waste of all the effort you’ve put into all of this. Not to mention it’s your one and only son who’s currently… hosting the demon.”
Tomin reached for the second bottled water, plucked it out the holder and offered it to me. I recoiled into the warmed leather seats.
“It’s not going to kill you,” Tomin said, continuing to hold the bottle out for me. “If I did, it wouldn’t be in the form of water.”
I grimaced at the bottled water, then back to Tomin’s face. “You’ve dedicated your life to killing witches, forgive me for my hesitance.”
Apparently, my sarcasm was wasted, because Tomin replied as if he didn’t catch it.
“Forgiven. Regarding the matters of Bahmet, I haven’t been given a choice in the matter. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that your mother’s decision to squander Bahmet with thistlebane during her outlawed pregnancy resulted in part of that demon finding a home inside of you.”
All the blood rushed out of my face. There was nothing I could do to stifle my reaction. “Have you been having some heart-to-hearts with your son about me?”
Tomin laughed. “Something like that. If I’d known about your little ‘demon issue’ at the time, perhaps I would’ve put more of my time and energy into searching for you. That way I could’ve killed you.”
“And now you need me.”
“Correct. I need you. Hindsight is a blessing at times, but it can be a curse without context.”
It was pointless to pretend that he was wrong about the darkness inside of me, but that didn’t stop me from trying.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I snatched the bottle from his grasp, only for his eyes to fall on my wrist. It was a mistake to be so sloppy, because the widening of his eyes told me that he’d seen what I’d tried to hide up my sleeve.
“You’re bleeding,” Tomin said with the grace of a concerned father. His hand snapped out, fingers harsh as they gripped my wrist and tugged it towards him. My skin ached beneath his hold, flesh bruising with the ease of overripe fruit.
Turned out how he sounded and acted were two opposing parallels.
Before Tomin could locate the two neatly positioned puncture wounds, I fought for my arm back and slipped the wound back into my sleeve.
“I never thought the day would come when the man who called for the death of so many witches would be concerned when one is bleeding before him. Are you worried I might smudge my blood on your fancy car?”
“You speak on my distaste for witches as if you haven’t been lurking in the shadows, being led by powerful demons all this time? Am I wrong to cleanse the world of such creatures?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but his question stumped me. In a sense, the hate and vitriol that Witch Hunters spewed wasn’t entirely untrue after all. Not now the curtain behind the Coven had been torn back to reveal Bahmet being the one who pulled the strings.
“And before that? When it was Witch Hunters who drove witches to make deals with devils? I bet your ancestors justlovedthat outcome, didn’t they. Finally they forced actual evidence behind the claims you’ve been pushing for hundreds of years.”
Tomin ignored me, eyes pinned to the hand I was hiding up my sleeve. A storm clouded behind his eyes, dark and brewing with danger. “When did you hurt yourself?”
I shrugged, looking back out of the window to see the car had taken a turn towards the ruins of the White Tower, not away from them. Odd. “Does it matter?”
The silence that followed after my flippant question sent blood thrumming through my body. It got so hot that I could’ve smashed a window open and still that wouldn’t change how I felt.
I was alert for many reasons, but I got the sense that Tomin’s forced kindness was dwindling.
“Of course it matters. You’ve become the most important person in my life, Hector. You matter very much to me actually.”
I placed a hand on my stomach, hoping to calm the vicious rolling of my stomach.
How dare he think that of me. How dare he even imagine for a second that he had some form of authorised concern over my well-being when he literally tore my life apart, not once but twice.
Fuelled by my hate for the man, I turned back on him, eyes wide and tongue lashing. “Your son only fucked me once, Tomin. That doesn’t make you my father-in-law or something. Drop the forced care, and get to the point.”
