Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,34
had he seen of what went on there?
“Who are your people? Who do you work for?” I mustered some bravery, trying to ignore his searing eyes and harsh tone.
“That ain’t none of your business, either,” he retorted sharply. “Though it’s kinda funny how ye all think yer so high and mighty, but ye don’t even know when yer bein’ watched. But that ain’t the point. I were assigned te watch ye, then I started turning into that… thing as soon as ye came to the Institute. So, who did it, eh? Who did this te me? Seems like it were ye, since it all began with ye.”
“You were assigned to watch me?” The words hissed between my teeth. If he’d been observing me from afar, did this have something to do with my lineage? Did the people he worked for want to harm me in some way because I was a Merlin? If a handful of humans had found out about the existence of magicals, my surname would’ve come up as a big hitter on the list of power players. They’d just missed out on the fact that I was the family dud.
His eyes widened, as though he hadn’t meant to tell me that. “Stop trying te distract me, ‘cause it won’t work.” He let go of the drawstrings of my hoodie and picked up a fairly blunt-looking knife, which he’d taken off a plate of food just within my reach. I didn’t know if the food was his or if he’d left it there for me, but I imagined he could do a lot of damage with that bit of cutlery, blunt or not. If he tried to stab me, I had no way of defending myself. He turned the blade over in his palm and peered at me intently. “Give me intel, now, or ye’ll regret it. How do I break this curse, eh? If ye did this te me, ye’ll know how to stop it.”
“How can I know that?” I watched the blade closely, hoping I could duck out of the way if he lunged. Maybe, if he threw himself off balance, I could ram into him and try to stagger to my escape. But how far could I really get with my legs in a dead state of numbness and my arms bound behind my back? “For one, I didn’t do anything to you. I don’t even know who you are. Secondly, you haven’t even said what the curse is.”
He tapped the blade to his concealed chin. “Yer the witch, ye should know what it is. It turns me into some monster-thing, with them red eyes. Someone called me a ‘fear dog’ once but I don’t know if it means aught. Anyway, it gets folks all riled up with fear that makes them lose their minds, and it’s got te stop, ‘cause it’s makin’ other people sick. My people.” His forehead furrowed, and a glint of sadness overwhelmed the anger in his eyes. It was becoming clear that this guy had kidnapped me out of sheer desperation, and perhaps that was an angle I could work. I just had to calm him down a bit.
“Do you mean a ‘Fear Dearg’?” I had heard of those, though they hadn’t come into my dreams for a decade or so. The memory of the creatures stirred vaguely in my mind—the flaming red eyes, smoky bodies of black and red mist, snarling jaws. Even being a few feet away from a Fear Dearg plunged a person into an immobilizing grip of despair and terror, like the dream had done to childhood me.
He raised an eyebrow. “Aye, maybe that were it. Fear Dearg.”
“And you say you keep turning into one?”
“Are yer ears bunged up or somethin’? Aye, that’s what I’ve been sayin’ over and over!” he snapped, sounding exasperated. “I’m not goin’ te let it hurt my people. I didn’t ask for this, and one of your lot slapped it on me. So, yer going te fix it or I’m goin’ te do te ye what we used te do te witches back in the day!” He slipped a hand in his pocket and took out a lighter, sending my nerves into panicked overdrive. He clearly intended to burn me at the stake, and I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this mess. I couldn’t fix it for him. If he’d wanted a powerful Merlin to help him, he’d gone for the worst possible choice.