you’re a witch hunter?”
“We figured out I wasn’t human, but it wasn’t until later we learned what I was. But my grandfather…he saved me. He gave me a choice; either I give into my sick, fucked up animal side, and he would put me down like a rabid dog, or I learn to control it with discipline.”
“Put you down…” Horror nearly gagged her.
Ram stared at her. “He wasn’t kidding. He was holding a loaded gun when he said it.” She jerked her hand back. “He was a monster! You were only a kid, fifteen—”
“He was right, damn it!” Ram surged to his feet, pacing the space between the bed and window. “It was dumb luck that he’d realized I had snuck out of the house that night, and more luck that he was able to stop me. By then I was strong enough to break every bone in his body.
I’m the one that was, that is, a monster.” He stopped walking, faced her, and went on in a calmer voice, “He gave me hope, a chance to live as a man. He set up rigid schedules of grueling exercise, and at night I slept chained. We couldn’t risk a craving hitting and me sneaking out again. But I learned to control the curse. Control myself.” She tried to take it all in. To her, it sounded brutal and cruel. Didn’t someone love him, give him some softness and caring? Protection? “What about your mom? I mean, didn’t she know your father was a witch hunter?”
His shoulders tensed to granite, the veins in his neck popping. “No. We never knew who my father was. My mom got upset and confused whenever anyone tried to ask about my father.” He looked back, his face a tightly drawn mask of rage. “Her memory had been shifted. She literally couldn’t remember and it made her agitated. Eventually…she died of dementia at forty-three.” There was no end to what Ram had suffered. Staring up at him, she asked, “From memory shifting?”
“That’s my theory. If not done right and carefully, then shifting can set off a chain of events in the brain that are extremely damaging.”
She couldn’t bear that raw pain in his gaze. “Your mom must have loved you, Ram. No matter what your father did, she loved you.”
“Yeah, she did,” he said, his voice flat.
At least he’d had some love, she thought. That’s why he was so kind with her, so—
“Until the end,” he went on. “Until she screamed in terror whenever she saw me, thinking I was him.” He turned away again. “Watching his daughter, my mother, deteriorate like that on top of everything else, it killed my grandfather. He had a massive heart attack and died the day of her funeral.”
Ginny heard the words, flat and brutal, and knew he held his pain as tightly as he held on to his guilt. She shuffled off the bed, walked to him.
He stepped back, his face ravished. “You don’t know me, Gin. I’m wrong , just like this bird on me is wrong . You’re an angel, and I’m a predator who kills.”
“No.” She couldn’t stand his pain. Ram had been the one who helped her. She needed to do the same for him. She closed the foot of space between them, putting her arms around his waist.
He stood immobile, frozen.
She tilted her head back, looking into his eyes. “You’re a survivor. Not a quitter. You’re going to find the solution, Ram, a way to stop the electricity burning through you.”
“Ginny…”
She hugged him tighter. Ignoring the tattoo, she pressed against his chest and laid her cheek to his heart. “I’ll be here with you. As long as I can, I’ll be here.”
***
Fire seared Ram’s veins. The pain drove him on relentlessly. It was so fucking hot, it felt like he was in a furnace. His guts cramped, he had to find relief.
Then he caught the scent. Froze, lifting his nose like a wolf on the hunt.
Witch blood.
His muscles twitched with need. Predator silent, he slid his knife from the thigh holster, following that scent. Down a hallway.
Deep in his brain, he felt a warning flare go off. This was wrong.
No distractions! He
“We figured out I wasn’t human, but it wasn’t until later we learned what I was. But my grandfather…he saved me. He gave me a choice; either I give into my sick, fucked up animal side, and he would put me down like a rabid dog, or I learn to control it with discipline.”
“Put you down…” Horror nearly gagged her.
Ram stared at her. “He wasn’t kidding. He was holding a loaded gun when he said it.” She jerked her hand back. “He was a monster! You were only a kid, fifteen—”
“He was right, damn it!” Ram surged to his feet, pacing the space between the bed and window. “It was dumb luck that he’d realized I had snuck out of the house that night, and more luck that he was able to stop me. By then I was strong enough to break every bone in his body.
I’m the one that was, that is, a monster.” He stopped walking, faced her, and went on in a calmer voice, “He gave me hope, a chance to live as a man. He set up rigid schedules of grueling exercise, and at night I slept chained. We couldn’t risk a craving hitting and me sneaking out again. But I learned to control the curse. Control myself.” She tried to take it all in. To her, it sounded brutal and cruel. Didn’t someone love him, give him some softness and caring? Protection? “What about your mom? I mean, didn’t she know your father was a witch hunter?”
His shoulders tensed to granite, the veins in his neck popping. “No. We never knew who my father was. My mom got upset and confused whenever anyone tried to ask about my father.” He looked back, his face a tightly drawn mask of rage. “Her memory had been shifted. She literally couldn’t remember and it made her agitated. Eventually…she died of dementia at forty-three.” There was no end to what Ram had suffered. Staring up at him, she asked, “From memory shifting?”
“That’s my theory. If not done right and carefully, then shifting can set off a chain of events in the brain that are extremely damaging.”
She couldn’t bear that raw pain in his gaze. “Your mom must have loved you, Ram. No matter what your father did, she loved you.”
“Yeah, she did,” he said, his voice flat.
At least he’d had some love, she thought. That’s why he was so kind with her, so—
“Until the end,” he went on. “Until she screamed in terror whenever she saw me, thinking I was him.” He turned away again. “Watching his daughter, my mother, deteriorate like that on top of everything else, it killed my grandfather. He had a massive heart attack and died the day of her funeral.”
Ginny heard the words, flat and brutal, and knew he held his pain as tightly as he held on to his guilt. She shuffled off the bed, walked to him.
He stepped back, his face ravished. “You don’t know me, Gin. I’m wrong , just like this bird on me is wrong . You’re an angel, and I’m a predator who kills.”
“No.” She couldn’t stand his pain. Ram had been the one who helped her. She needed to do the same for him. She closed the foot of space between them, putting her arms around his waist.
He stood immobile, frozen.
She tilted her head back, looking into his eyes. “You’re a survivor. Not a quitter. You’re going to find the solution, Ram, a way to stop the electricity burning through you.”
“Ginny…”
She hugged him tighter. Ignoring the tattoo, she pressed against his chest and laid her cheek to his heart. “I’ll be here with you. As long as I can, I’ll be here.”
***
Fire seared Ram’s veins. The pain drove him on relentlessly. It was so fucking hot, it felt like he was in a furnace. His guts cramped, he had to find relief.
Then he caught the scent. Froze, lifting his nose like a wolf on the hunt.
Witch blood.
His muscles twitched with need. Predator silent, he slid his knife from the thigh holster, following that scent. Down a hallway.
Deep in his brain, he felt a warning flare go off. This was wrong.
No distractions! He
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