Page 18 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

Adriel grumbled. “I still recall when Christian went through puberty. He was obsessed with watching the animals rut, and I frequently found him pleasuring himself when he was supposed to be doing his chores.”

“I really wish I didn’t know that.”

“It lasted decades. I had to threaten to sew the panel of his broadfall pants shut.”

“Please stop.” He couldn’t prevent the horrifying image of Christian whacking off from blasting like a Broadway show centerstage in his head.

“Yes, it was much like that.”

He shot her a look and snapped, “Thanks, now I’m going to picture that every time I see him.”

She shrugged and returned to her needlework. “That’s because, like most twenty-something boys, your mind is filled with sin.”

A ruckus erupted from Council Hall and they both ceased whispering to better hear what was being said. Dane scowled as he tried to focus on their heavily accented words. “Who are they talking about?”

“I believe Jonas. Poor, Ezekiel. He’s been through so much.”

“Retrieve the witch!” someone yelled and the double doors of Council Hall opened.

Adriel’s gaze dropped to her needlepoint as David stepped into the hall. As soon as he spotted Dane, he scowled. “What are you doing here, boy?”

“He brought me a piece of bread. I was hungry.”

Dane quickly fished the bread out of his pocket and handed it to Adriel. David frowned.

“He shouldn’t be here. Neither should you.”

She set down her hoop and slowly stood, meeting the other immortal's challenging stare. “Careful, David. I’m your elder, and as such, you will not rebuke me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sit down, Sister Adriel. Your son shirked his duties today so he’s not here to defend your presence. It’s indecent for a female—”

“I do not need my son to come to my defense. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Now, why don’t you run off and do your elders’ bidding before someone gets angry.”

“Willful female,” he growled and marched off to the cellar door.

Adriel sat down and handed him back the tea towel of bread. “I can’t say I’m completely distraught over the loss of his arm. If Isaiah was going to hurt someone, I suppose David was a good choice.”

Dane also disliked the smug immortal, but he didn’t think he deserved to have his arm ripped off. A stump had grown back, but the ordeal would probably scar the male for life.

Minutes later, the basement doors opened and the witch, Juniper, was hauled past them. Mouth muzzled, eyes blindfolded, and hands tied, she didn’t pose much of a threat, but the girl had done her fair share of damage.

“He looks like he could use a hand,” Adriel muttered under her breath, snickering at her own joke.

Dane watched David steer Juniper into Council Hall as she blindly dragged her feet and feebly struggled. She was a small thing and her resistance was futile.

The witch’s audible, labored breathing spoke of fear, as did her muffled outcry. Two years in a cell would humble anyone, but the rage that simmered under her surface was plain to see.

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.