“She will,” Ambrose cut in, his voice raw and pleading, as if he needed her to understand this. “Shehasmurdered before. I don’t think you realize how hard she took being exiled from Briar Coven. She genuinely believes she deserves all the things you have.”
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“She killed the previous witch who lived in her house,” he went on. “All because she wanted a hob to wait on her hand and foot. Second best to a sentient house, I guess. And when the hob broke free of her compulsion and turned on her, she hired me. And that’s how she found out there was a Briar Coven house here...” He swallowed, guilt etched clearly across his face as he added quietly. “Because she went through my phone.”
Before I could reach out and tell him none of this was his fault, his expression hardened into steely resolve.
“Believe me, Caitlyn,” he said quietly. “She wants this house. And she’ll doanythingto get it.”
Creep slammed her fist down on the table, hard enough to rattle the mugs. Something likeOver my inanimate, dead bodyseemed to etch itself across her cherub face.
“How long do we have?” Caitlyn asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” Ambrose said. “Maybe a week at most.”
Caitlyn nodded slowly. “Okay. That gives us some time, at least.” She looked between us. “How long will it take before you’re ready to travel?”
“I can go right now—”
“No, you can’t,” I said, cutting him off.
Ambrose’s dulled gaze narrowed on me.
“You haven’t fed in weeks,” I said.
A small knot of relief loosened in my chest. Whatever else she’d done to him, she hadn’t takeneverything.
I couldn’t help flicking my eyes over the telltale signs—the grayish cast to his skin, the too-sharp angles of his jaw, the faint hollows beneath his eyes. Subtle changes, not as stark as a human starving for lack of physical food, but pronounced enough to knot worry low in my gut.
“And you haven’t fed regularly in six months,” I continued.
Over that time, my own feeding had been erratic—only when the hunger pangs became impossible to ignore. Ambrose, though, had been worse than me. He’d only slip away to feed once the hunger began to show physically.
At this stage, I wasn’t convinced he’d survive the car journey if we tried to leave right now. He’d need to feed properly at least a couple of times before I’d even consider moving him.
In fact, I suspected the only reason he’d made it this far at all was because fear and rage had carried him through.
When he’d nearly collapsed into my arms earlier, I’d felt it—the weakness in him, the way his bones had quivered once they were finally allowed to stop holding his massive frame upright.
“I—” he began, but I cut him off again.
“No, Ambrose,” I said firmly. “You’re staying here. And we’re not evenconsideringgoing to the coven until I’m confident you’re well again.”
His eyes widened slightly, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this new, uncompromising side of me.
“Do we agree?” I asked, looking at Caitlyn and then Creep.
Caitlyn nodded, color rising in her cheeks.
Creep followed with a sharp bob of her head.
A beat later, every shutter in the house slammed shut at once, the sound reverberating through the walls—a very clear warning that Ambrose would not be leaving this house until Creep deemed him fit to do so.
Ambrose let out a slow, defeated sigh.
I rested my hand gently over his, and his gaze lifted to mine.
“Do you want to tell us what she did to you?” I asked quietly. My shadows stirred beneath the table, brushing lightly against the back of his leg in silent reassurance.
