“Fletcher,” Elodie lays a hand on his shoulder. “Ember, we don’t need your help. You’ve done enough.”
“Nothing I did was to hurt you, none of this was about you.”
“You didn’t think sleeping with my husband would hurt me?”
Ember shrugs and looks sad for a moment, maybe even sorry. “I loved him.” Her voice is small.
“And so did I. And now you have ruined everything, tainted our whole marriage with your deception.”
“Mum, she’s probably lying. I wouldn’t trust her.”
Elodie shakes her head, keeping her hands on Ellis, even as she cries. “I know it’s true. It makes sense now. It didn’t... when we were at Zeta’s cottage with Griff, we saw a photograph of Ember and Adam. The photo was of Zeta and somebody I don’t even recognise, but Adam and Ember were just in the background. They probably didn’t know they were in the shot, but the look on Ember’s face. I know that look – it was how I looked at him – like he was the only man on earth for me, the most wonderful and perfect of men. He wasn’t looking at her, so I dismissed it, but now I see. I wish I didn’t, but now I see.”
Fletcher’s eyes flood with tears for his mum, for Ellis, for his cousins, for this whole situation.
“What a secret to keep,” Elodie whispers. “And you dared to come and live with us, to act like we were this happy, supportive, close family.”
Ember is crying now.
“Don’t you dare cry your crocodile tears. When this is over, when Ellis is well, I will murder you with my own hands and enjoy it. I could never forgive you.”
Fletcher looks at Ellis and shivers. She looks worse.
The door pushes open and doctor Matthew swoops in, drops to the floor to check out Ellis and her vital signs. He is shaking his head as he does so, trying some magic and taking her pulse. He looks grave as he turns to Fletcher and Elodie, then frowning as he takes in the rest of the room. “Do we know what magic they’ve used against her?”
They both shake their heads. “Is it definitely magic?”
He nods. “This is nothing medical, it’s magical, but it’s potent and dark... I don’t think...” He trails off and Fletcher lets out a strangled cry.
“You don’t think what? Tell me she’ll be okay. She can’t die, she just can’t, please.” He’s sobbing openly, now shaking Ellis, repeating her name over and over and over.
“Fletcher, stop it.” Elodie takes his hands to stop him shaking Ellis like a rag doll. “You can’t help her.” She takes a big breath. “Fletcher, she’s dying.”
“No!”
Matthew nods his head. “Her heartbeat is so faint I can barely hear it and her breathing has all but stopped. I’m so sorry. Whatever magic this was, it’s too powerful.”
“How long?”
“Why?”
“Tell me how long?”
Matthew shrugs, helpless. “I don’t know, I’m so sorry.”
Despair covering his face, Fletcher flees from the room.
“Let him go,” Elodie says, taking hold of Ellis’s icy hands.
16
Fletcher has never moved so fast in his life – he’s used to running and flying, but he’s not used to the speed required to do what he needs to do.
He will not let Ellis die, he can’t let her die, and if witchcraft and spells cannot save her – which they can’t, and medicine can’t save her – which it can’t, he can think of only one option, and as he flies to John’s house, and then runs inside screaming the vampire’s name, he has no idea if his plan is good or bad, just that it is a plan.
It’s a plan.
He cannot let Ellis die, not when she’s only involved in this entire thing because of him. She’s only a witch because she ran through his investment ceremony. She’s only dying because she’s involved with him, his family and his way of life.
Fletcher stands at the bottom of the stairs and yells for John, making his name stretch over several syllables.
“Fletcher, my boy!” John seems to float down the steps as he opens his arms out to greet Fletcher, as full of bonhomie as ever, refusing to look shocked at the dramatic entrance to his home.
He turns to the beautiful woman following him down the steps, a tiny puppy in her arms. “Fletcher, this is my best friend Becca and her little friend Cooper. Becca, this is my best friend Adam’s son.” He finally takes in Fletcher’s appearance and steps back. “What’s wrong?”
“Ellis.”
John took quite a shine to Ellis, and he looks almost as worried as Fletcher.
“You’ll love Ellis,” John says to Becca. “She’s a normal girl, but she got turned into a witch by accident. What’s happened, Fletcher? What do you need me to do?”
Tears fill Fletcher’s eyes. “She’s dying. We don’t know why or how, but spells aren’t helping, and we’ve got a doctor there, but he can’t help her...”
John frowns and shakes his head. “I’m no medicine man, Fletcher, what can I do?”
Fletcher takes a deep breath, sorrow and uncertainty and helplessness all colouring his face and making him look pained. “I want you to... I need you to turn her.”
John takes a step away from Fletcher, all traces of conviviality disappearing. “Fletcher! I can’t. I can’t.”
Fletcher grabs his arms, shakes him. “John, please. I would never ask; I would never expect you to... but you’re her only hope. I don’t even know if she’ll be dead when I get back. I don’t know if I’ve missed my last moments with her coming here to ask you... to ask the biggest thing of you, the worst thing of you. But she’ll die.” He drops his head, sobbing, and John looks at Becca, shrugging, misery etched on his face.
“Fletcher, it’s a terrible thing to turn somebody who doesn’t want to be turned.”
“We don’t know that she doesn’t want to be turned. I know she’d want to live. Please John, please.” Tears pour down his face, and he doesn’t even bother
