BURDEN OF AN ANCIENT OATH Joshua Brown (large ebook reader .TXT) 📖

kind of man to bring emotion into my work, and I never would be. It was these personal ventures that ended up in further heartache rather than any true bliss. But sitting there that day, while Spencer and Jane became acquainted, I found happiness myself.

A twinkle of humanity in a world full of suffering.

This is why we did it, after all, why we helped those in need. It wasn’t for personal gratification or happiness, but to see normal people being able to go back to the way their lives were. For Jane and Spencer, their lives would never be the same. Not after what happened and the threats they got, or the tragic events of their history.

“So, what’s really going on here?” I leaned in close, whispering into Gwen’s ear. “You going soft on me?”

“What? No, never,” Gwen replied. “What makes you think that?”

She turned towards me, letting the siblings reunite in peace.

“I don’t know… this doesn’t seem like your style. I never saw you as the type to bring emotions into a case,” I teased, leaning back in my chair.

“We’re all getting older, Jacky-boy,” she replied, blowing me a kiss. “Sometimes, age brings that soft spot youth overlooks.”

“And us, here together? You don’t think that’s a sign of something else?” I winked.

The waitress interrupted us, setting our drinks down on the table. I could hear Gwen laughing behind her.

“No, I don’t think it’s a sign of anything,” she said when the waitress stepped around the table to set down the other drinks.

“You know, we still make a pretty kick-ass team, you and me,” I sipped my beer.

“We always have, that’s why I knew you were the right man to call when facing this little problem,” Gwen replied, bringing her glass to mine to cheers.

I considered it for a moment, bringing Gwen into my fold. I’d have preferred her back by my side rather than Aaron. Not that he wasn’t going to someday make a great detective, but at least with Gwen Sullivan, I knew she could hold her own. The thought of having her there, working side by side, was exciting.

And maybe that’s what all this was in some way. But unlike the many others I managed to read in the past, Gwen was a closed book. She left everything to the imagination, giving no signs at all.

We spent the afternoon with Jane, Spencer, and their partners, laughing and talking as though we were all old friends. For the first time since it started, I could’ve believed the case was solved and this was our celebratory meal.

But as time ticked on and the check made its way over, I came back down to earth.

Oscar Carlisle was sitting in an interrogation room waiting for me, and I was eager to crack that egg wide open.

Chapter 17

The Witchfinder General

It was a cold night, unusually so, even for an early autumn evening.

But with the icy chill of the wind came deathly silence from the streets as I entered Gwen Sullivan’s abode. The lights were off and the house was dark, with only a single car rolling down the long road on which her three-bedroom home stood. After news broke that the detectives managed to arrest my underling, Oscar Carlisle, I knew it was time to get serious.

They had been running rampant, no matter the Order’s threats against them, and I would not allow it to stand.

They called me the Witchfinder General, and thus far, I’d completed my duties without a hitch.

In the still of the night, I found a seat in her living room beside a large window. The curtains were drawn, with Gwen no doubt knowing she wouldn’t be home before nightfall and not wanting to leave them open. How smart of her to ensure no eyes could peer in while she was away.

I sat still, almost motionless, like a lion on the hunt. The only movement that came, the subtle up and down of my chest from calm breathes drawn. Rarely did I blink, and even more so, make any movement at all.

That was until I heard her car in the driveway.

A strange delight filled me, hearing the metallic hum of her garage opening and the vehicle pull inside. Connecting directly with the kitchen, I watched as the door swung open and the light flicked on. Still, I sat, shrouded in darkness.

“What a good day,” she said to herself, stepping into the light. A smile stretched from ear to ear.

My curiosity was piqued at the sight of the smile, the reason for her jolly nature, and why her day was so good. I knew someone would be able to tell me soon enough, having followed both her and Jack Mercer for the better part of the afternoon.

I was surprised to find that Gwen Sullivan had such a lack of awareness. How she managed to walk from one end of the kitchen to the other without spotting me, pouring a glass of wine and drinking it in the kitchen while playing on her phone.

Just look up, I thought. She’d no doubt have seen my ivory mask, the only color against the pitch-black ensemble. Yet, she never did raise her head nor pay attention to her surroundings. How easy it would’ve been to kill her.

Had this been a meeting to kill her, that was.

“Gwen Sullivan,” I finally spoke, growing bored of waiting.

Within an instant, her wine glass fell to the floor and her pistol was drawn, focusing on my general direction.

“Who’s there?” she called.

“I don’t believe there’s any need for a gun,” I said, getting up from my chair. “Nor do I think it’s a good idea, either.”

Taking my first few steps towards the light, from all around, my acolytes joined me. Hidden in the shadows, all the same as me, they appeared from