Page 21 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

The bruises were in the shape of large hands and traveled to her inner thighs. As he’d assumed, she’d had some visitors.

“If you truly are a witch, why don’t you punish them?”

Another tear rolled from her eye. He couldn’t let this stand. Someone had to tell the elders what was happening.

“I’ll say something to the bishop. He’ll put a stop to it.” He could see she had little hope in his plan, so he assured her, “He’s good. They call him honorable.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

Dane sprang off the cot and shot to his feet. Cain stood at the door of the cell, scowling at him. “They burned her.”

“I know. Get out of there.” Dane rushed forward and Cain caught him by the back of the shirt. “Keys.”

He fished the key out of his pocket. “She needs a healer.”

“There’s no way Adam’s letting Anna come down here.” Cain snatched the dingy blindfold off the floor and shook it out. “Should have thought about that when you tried to kill our father,” he told Juniper, just before covering her eyes.

Her muffled outcry did no good.

“She needs bandages.”

Cain backed out of the cell and locked the door. “You need to understand your limits.” He shoved Dane in the chest, pushing him into the adjacent wall. “I get that you’ve had a taste of Magdalene and you’re coming to embrace the benefits of blood, but you’re still half mortal. What would you have done if she used magic on you?”

“She can’t. If she could, she would have used it on whatever son of a bitch did that to her feet. It’s been two years, Cain, and she hasn’t shown us any proof that she’s an actual witch. Maybe it’s time to admit the one who did that to your father is dead.”

He shook his head. “She might not have actively participated in the spell, but her aunt used her presence to harness more power. It’s in their blood, Dane. She’s dangerous.”

“She’s just a girl!”

“She’s no more a girl than you’re a boy. When will you learn that things aren’t as simple as they seem? Especially here. You should know better by now.”

Chains rattled from the cell at the end of the hall. “I’m so sick of the double standards. You save your mercy for the least deserving and show cruelty to those who are incapable of protecting themselves. How is that living in the light?”

Cain’s hand pressed into his shoulder and his head shook with regret. “There’s no light here, Dane. There hasn’t been in some time. If you were smart, you’d keep working until you saved up enough money and go start over somewhere else.”

He shoved away his touch. “I can’t leave Cybil. You know I won’t.”

“She’s never going to be well.”

“You don’t know that!” He moved to push him, but Cain caught his arms, restraining him.

“I know that your life is worth more than this. My father only intended for you to be here a short time. You’re an adult now and you should be doing more than passing your nights with a female you don’t love. You’ll lose a hundred years standing vigil outside of Cybil’s cell—assuming you have that many to spare.”

“Let go.” He jerked his arms free and glared at him. “She’s all I have left.”

“She’s not the Cybil we knew. The sister you loved is gone. And my sister…” He sighed. “Gracie is never going to stop waiting for her called mate to come. That can’t be you.”

His stare jerked to the wall as his vision blurred with unshed tears of frustration. “What if he never comes? What if she spends her life waiting for something that never happens?”

“That’s her choice to make.”

Sick of this place, sick of staring at the same stone walls, he turned and marched up the stairs and out the door. The placement of the sun told him it was nearly noon. Adjusting his hat, he headed toward the Hartzler’s land.

The males were back to work, harvesting, steering the cattle across the pasture, and driving the plows. Females worked the pump, filling pitchers with cool water as they prepared to deliver the males their cold mid-day meal. Annalise would likely be in the woodshop with Adam, so he headed that way.

As he stepped into the barn he nearly collided with Gracie, who was on her way out. “Gracie.”

“Dane,” she said sharply, then looked away and scowled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for Anna.”

“She’s not here.”

The wood shop wasn’t a place Gracie usually hung out. “Where is everyone? Are you alone?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Adam’s making me a cabinet for my dishes. I was checking on his progress.”

Amish women had a strange fixation with dishes and clocks. Because such things were functional, he supposed they were one of the few ways they got to show off something that would otherwise be considered fancy.