Witch by Tara Brown

anger
welling inside of his friend. She was already fragile and a blow like Giselle
being forced into anything, could force Aimee’s anger.
    He put a hand on them both and flashed quickly.
    He looked up at the front of the massive castle, “Home
sweet home.”
    Giselle gulped.
    Sam knew it was too much to take. Giselle and Aimee had
come from a tiny town with small houses and regular people. The past years had
been filled with too many changes for them to not be overwhelmed.
    Giselle’s dark and beautiful eyes filled with tears,
making her face devastating, “Will you stay with me?”
    Sam nodded, as did Aimee.
    An English accent broke the silence, “Mistress my name is
Hamish. Welcome to your new home.”
    Sam spun to see an odd looking older man standing in the
doorway of the huge entrance.
    "Hamish? You weren’t here when Marcus lived
here?"
    Hamish shook his head, "I stay back in the English castle
until Master Henry was permitted to leave."
    Aimee put a hand out to him, “I’m Aimee.”
    He cringed as he took her hand. Aimee pulled him into her
and whispered something. The man’s eyes grew as he pulled back, “Madam I would
never. I serve the Mistress of the house. My bloodline has always served the
house of Dracule loyally. She is the mistress, her blood is his blood.”
    Sam scowled at Aimee, who shrugged, “He must be like the
house elves in Harry Potter. No one give him any gifts or clothing or socks.”
    The older man looked horrified but stepped to the side to
make way for them to enter.
    Sam felt nauseous seeing the place again. It was never
appealing to him, but remembering Hanna there made his skin crawl. Giselle
gripped his bicep tightly as they passed the threshold.
    “It’s creepy. It’s too big. Hamish is there a smaller
house we could maybe hang at?”
    Hamish looked at Giselle as if she had three heads,
“Mistress does the manor displease you? We have five others. The one in Romania
is quite nice in the summer. Not too hot and there is a nice lake out back.”
    "Five? All like this?"
    He laughed, "No, no, much larger."
    She looked at Sam with her huge eyes full of fear. Her
lips trembled slightly. Sam leaned in and kissed her soft face, “You have this
Giselle. You defeated that other vampire. We won’t leave you here alone. Me and
Aimes will move in with you okay?”
    She pressed her skin against his lips and nodded, “I like
the house Hamish.”
    “Would you care for a snack perhaps?”
    Sam shot his eyes up at Hamish who pointed down the hall.
    Giselle nodded, “I am hungry.”
    Aimee looked at Sam menacingly, but spoke to Hamish, “What
kind of snack?”
    Hamish looked confusedly at Sam, “Well she only really
eats one thing young sir, obviously a bloody one.”
    Aimee turned to him, “Where does she get her snacks from?”
    Giselle put a perfectly manicured hand up, “Hamish I like
my blood by the bag.”
    Hamish choked, “What?”
    Aimee looked furious, “Do you keep people here?”
    Hamish reddened slightly, “We keep all blood types on tap.
It’s how Master preferred it in all his homes.”
    Sam felt his nose wrinkle, “Where do you keep them?”
    Giselle looked confused, “On tap?”
    Aimee shook her head, “Nothing. I will take care of it. Me
and Hamish will go together to get you a snack.”
    Sam stepped away from Giselle and grabbed Aimee’s hand
quickly, “Maybe me and Hamish should get the snacks Aims.” He noticed the
relieved look on the poor old man’s face.
    Aimee looked wickedly evil, as she spoke through pressed
lips like a ventriloquist, “Fine.”
    Sam took the older man’s arm and rushed away quickly.
    “By the gods what is she?”
    Sam smirked, “Death Hamish. She is death.”
     
     

Chapter Seventeen
    Ophelia
     
    “You’re mother is the witch. She is the oldest human,
ever. Her and Adam were created together, equally. God made them in his image,
in the image of the angels.”
    Ophelia shook her head, “Where is Sam? He smells