Page 28 of Witch (Gray Wolf Security #24)

“He took the bait,” said Beau into the cell phone. “He’s right behind ‘em.”

“We owe you, cousin,” said Antoine.

“Y’all don’t owe us shit. We just wish we could have a little fun with the prick as well,” smirked the man. “We’ll watch the store. Y’all get them beautiful cousins home safe.”

Miller watched out the front window, waiting to see the SUV coming down River Road. Once they pulled into the driveway, the men would hide to ensure they weren’t seen by Hopkins.

“It’ll take ‘em a few minutes, Pierre,” said Luc.

“I know. I know. I’m just worried.”

“Why?” asked Gaspar.

“Why? Because you’ve been worried like an old woman all day, and now you’re making me nervous and worried!”

“I wasn’t worried like an old woman. I was worried like…” he stopped.

“Like a big brother,” said Trak, staring at him.

Gaspar nodded quietly. “You all are thinking about when you weren’t there for Rachelle, Marie, Claudette, and Camille.

But you were. You were there to help save them and give them this beautiful life that they have.

You’ve succeeded as brothers. All of you. ”

Gaspar stared at the man, realizing he was thinking of the sister he couldn’t save as well.

“You tried to save her, Trak. You couldn’t have done anything different,” said Jean.

“Maybe. I’ve made peace with it now. I know that I did what I believed was best. That’s what we’ve all done in our lives. We did what we believed was best at the time. I think sometimes we forget that we were kids as well.”

“That’s a lot of words coming from you,” smirked Ghost. Trak actually chuckled, nodding.

“I guess it is. The truth is, for all of you,” he said, looking at the Robicheaux brothers, “they are as much our sisters as yours.”

“And wives,” said Dex.

“Amen,” said Cruz. Mac, Clay, Jake, and Sly nodding.

“Jake? When did you get here?” asked Nine.

“I’ve been sittin’ here since 0700. Wanted to be sure there was food here, and it was clean in case the girls were stuck for a while. Never know what can happen. Besides, Claudette is my wife, and I won’t be just sitting on the sidelines waiting to see if she’s safe.”

“I don’t know why I fucking worried,” smirked Gaspar. “I could have just left it in the hands of their husbands.”

“You could have,” smiled Dex, “but they were your sisters before they were our wives. We yielded a bit to that.”

“Here they come,” said Miller.

The men scrambled to be sure they weren’t seen, more than two-dozen crammed into the small cottage. They heard the car doors slamming and the women coming up the steps of the porch.

“His car just passed,” said Archie. “Shall I follow?”

“No need, Archie. He’ll be back this way soon,” said Nine.

“Honey, we’re home,” chirped Camille. Cruz appeared from around the corner, frowning at her.

“Not funny. Everything okay?” he asked.

“All good. We bought jerky and candy, some new earrings,” she stopped and looked up to see the angered faces of her brothers. “Oh. Right. Yes, everything is good. He followed us just like you said.”

“Come with me,” said Trak. “We’ll get you beneath the netting with the ghosts. They’ll guide you to the boat downriver and come back to leave the netting for us.”

The sisters hugged their husbands, kissing them, and then hugging their brothers. When the ghosts returned with the netting, Cruz, Doc, Wilson, Dex, Kade, and Otto left, covered in the netting to take the women back to Belle Fleur.

“Haunt the fuck out of him for me,” said Cruz, nodding at the victims.

Knowing that Hopkins probably wouldn’t make a move until dark, the men relaxed, staying low and away from the windows. As darkness fell, they quietly ate, the television playing some mindless show.

“He is here,” said Astrid. “He’s here.”

“Alright,” said Nine. “Stay out of sight until you get the signal from us. Do you understand?” The ghostly images all nodded at the man, but he wondered if they would actually take his orders.

Trak signed to the other men.

He is at the back door.

Alec waited behind the door, hearing the man fiddling with the doorknob and lock. Even if they hadn’t been there, the women would have heard his commotion and shot him through the door. He was a terrible lock picker.

Hopkins slowly opened the door, hoping that the women were in the front room.

When he entered, he pulled a small object from his coat pocket.

It looked like a grenade, but they all knew exactly what it was.

It was a smoke bomb containing an aerosol sedative that would knock the women out.

No doubt he had a mask in his pocket as well.

As he lifted his arm to toss it, he felt the bones in his wrist crushed by a large hand. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Alec flung the man against the wall, watching as he bounced onto the floor.

“Hello, Marcus. Nice to see you again,” said Gaspar.

“No. You! No, it’s not possible,” he said, shaking his head.

“Obviously, it’s possible,” said Gaspar, shaking his head. He looked at the men in the room, smiling. “Why do they always say that? If we’re standing here, it’s possible. So ridiculous.”

“You’re all mad. Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe you’re all witches!”

“We’re men,” said Antoine, “so we would be warlocks. But whatever.”

“You think this is funny? Your mother and sisters have tainted this world long enough.”

“Enough with your bullshit, upper-crust, slightly English, but not really accent,” said Miller. “We all know you’re from upstate New York. You know, the place where you murdered all those women.”

“Wh-what are you talking about,” he stammered, attempting to back up, but meeting with a line of brick walls. “I-I didn’t murder anyone. I rid the world of evil, devil-worshiping women.”

“You murdered them,” said Baptiste.

“You can’t prove it!”

“We can,” said Astrid, appearing before them all. She couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could the other women. They all appeared, all of them. Including his parents.

“No. No, this is a magic trick. This can’t be real,” he said, gripping the sides of his head.

“It’s no magic trick. You murdered us,” said Norine.

“All of us,” said Rachel.

Suddenly, his parents moved toward him, the anger on his father’s face making him shrink, holding his hands in front of his face.

“I’m so ashamed of you,” he said quietly. “You abused our home, you abused these women, you did everything we told you not to do. We asked that you not continue to research your ancestor, and yet you did.”

“Yes! Yes, I did! I had to. He was calling to me. He told me where to find his inquisition tools, the-the questioning tools.”

“Questioning tools?” whispered his mother. “They were torturous devices. You tortured these poor young women. They aren’t witches. There is no such thing.”

“There are! Their mother was a witch,” he said, pointing at the Robicheaux brothers.

“You’re right about that,” said Irene, appearing before him. She slapped his face, something uncharacteristic of Irene. When he reached to slap her back, his hands passed through her image.

“This isn’t real. I’m dreaming. This isn’t real,” he said, shaking his head.

“It’s real. I am a green witch. You know what that means?

It means I got a darn good green thumb. I can grow things, lots of things.

I can turn them into food, perfume, medicine, whatever is needed.

That’s what it means. I don’t have a broomstick that I fly around on.

I don’t own frogs that I call my own. I don’t make people sick, although I expect right about now you want to lose that roast beef po’boy. ”

“How, how did you know what I had for lunch?”

“I’m a ghost, you foolish man,” she said, laughing. Matthew stepped forward with Ruby and Sven, Teddy standing among the women staring at the man.

“You have gone against every teaching of your parents, your schools, and your church. You murdered for your own pleasure. No other reason,” he said calmly.

“Alright. Fine. I killed them because it felt good,” he said with a sneer. “I felt powerful in those moments. Forcing them to take what I dished out. Forcing them to admit what they are, what they do. It takes power to do that!”

“No, it’s an act of cowardice,” said Gaspar. “You thought to kill my sisters, and that will never happen. You will never see the light of day again.”

“You’re going to kill me?” he said, suddenly fearful.

“No. They are,” said Alec, pointing to the spirits. Marcus laughed, shaking his head.

“Spirits cannot kill. They’re just g-ghosts,” he stammered.

“Then why are you so afraid of us?” asked Finarie. “Why do you fear our very images? Because you remember what you did to each of us. The burning, the poking, the stretching, the broken bones. You remember, and you’re afraid that we will do the same.”

“No,” he whispered. “You don’t have the power.”

“They do,” said Matthew. “This night, each woman will deliver to you the torture you delivered to her. You will die a dozen deaths this night, and when they are satisfied, your body will be sent to a watery grave. No one will mourn your loss. No one will worry about your soul.”

He stared at the room, seeing the anger in the ghostly faces. Finally, he turned to his parents.

“Mother, father, you must stop this,” he pleaded.

“We cannot. We agreed to this,” said Michael. “I only wish I’d gotten you the help you needed when you were alive. Take your punishment like a man.”

There was no escaping his torture. No way for him to run or hide.

These men would never allow it to happen.

In order, from his first victim to his last, he was given the same brutal treatment that he’d delivered to each of the women.

After each gruesome session of torture, his body was given the short gift of recovery, only to be tortured by the next spirit.

When they were done, he was carried to the boat, taken to the middle of the bayou, and thrown overboard, where the swamp claimed his body.

“You are free now,” said Matthew, looking at the ghostly images of the women. “Your families will know that they have peace.”

One by one, they disappeared in a haze of light and clouded mist, safe in knowing that they were given their redemption. When all that was left was the Robicheaux family, Irene turned to see that his parents were still seated.

“You can leave now, too,” she said quietly, taking the mother’s hand in comfort.

“How do we reconcile our own sin of not seeing this sooner?” asked Michael.

“You are parents, not mystics or magicians. You do your best, you pray that you get it right, and you let them take it from there. Good or bad, they have the freedom of choice for their decisions.”

“You seem to have done that well with all your fine children,” smirked Mrs. Hopkins.

“Well, I had a lot of help,” smiled Irene. When the image of the couple faded, Irene smiled at the men. “Y’all did good tonight. That wasn’t easy to watch, even knowing that he deserved every broken bone, every fiery brand, every painful episode.”

“Will those women truly have peace now, Pops?” asked Jean.

“They will, and so will all of you. Go home to your wives, to your families, and hold them tightly.”