Witch Doctor

CHAPTER 8 | genesis I

📎 A/N. Hello dear friends. I hope you are all doing well. As usual things are very hectic, so I do apologize for being behind with responding to all your lovely comments. I do appreciate every single one of them, but life is somehow getting in the way at the moment.

This chapter is a little long, so I have separated it into two parts. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, don't forget to vote!

This chapter is dedicated to my father who is very ill and valiantly fighting a chronic autoimmune disease.

Take care.

❤ ℳ 

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As much as it went against his investigative nature, Ryker held his tongue and remained quiet. A volley of questions bombarded his over active mind. One after another until he simmered on a low burn.

No matter how much he tried cajoling Keira, she wouldn't divulge the sudden and urgent need to meet with Deacon. What had been most surprising was the phone conversation, informing Deacon they were on their way back and to clear his calendar for the remainder of the day.

Ryker had to hide a smirk at how the demand would have been received from his adopted parent. It wasn't often that Deacon had anyone, let alone a witch, dictating terms. What had him on high alert was her terse tone during the scant phone conversation. It was clear she was pissed at Deacon. For what, he didn't know but was eager to find out. His only consolation was that her ire wasn't directed at him – yet. More surprising was that the ancient and powerful Vampire did nothing to retaliate against the way in which he was being ordered.

What the hell is going on? I've seen others lose their life for less.

Ryker stole a glance at the striking woman holding on for dear life in the passenger seat. A few wisps of flame red hair had managed to pry itself from the severe bun at the crown of her head. Except her hair, the rest of her was meticulously in place. Her clothes, while expensive, were understated and non-descript. The brisk and standoffish persona that she projected ensured that she came across as unapproachable and distant.

She was an enigma. In the short time he had known her he couldn't help but see beyond the walls she erected around her. It was if she were deliberately underplaying her true nature.

Ryker had been more than shocked when her sister had suddenly materialised. He was still trying to come to terms with how they could possibly be sisters. Sure, they looked alike; but where Dayna was vibrant and loud, Keira was restrained and reserved.

He had spent the better part of the day trying to reconcile her outward appearance to the person that hid in the shadows. She took no prisoners, that was clear; and to be honest, he actually enjoyed pushing her buttons. The woman gave as much as she got, which only made him the more curious about her motivations.

The problem was, he couldn't quite put his finger on what that was.

It's quite possible she's a compulsive liar and crackpot, he thought. After all, what sane witch thought she was hundreds of years old and believed the devil was real?

He was about to break the silence when his phone beat him to it. Ryker glanced at the caller ID on the dash and answered.

"Sheriff Kincaid."

"Hey boss, you far away?" asked Deputy Alan Trudeau.

His voice came through the cars speakers a little too loud, and Ryker glanced across apologetically at Keira, who had visibly flinched at the booming sound. He turned down the volume before he replied.