Taken

Chapter 19 (Part 5)

I blinked, my eyes focusing on Tia's back ahead of us as we made our way towards the front gate that led into the small yard of a townhouse. She stood at the door of the tall, three-story, brick building with bay windows that was sandwiched between two other identical ones, unlocking it as we approached.

Silas's eyes didn't leave my face, watching me closely as I processed what he told me. "Greysi?"

I didn't turn to address his whispered concern. I couldn't. I was still wrapping my head around the gruesome images his words had painted. Although it was growing easier for new information to sink in, my mind spending less time trying to rationalize the inconceivable that it already knew to be true, it took more than the span of a few silent steps.

My eyes remained on Tia, watching as she pushed the door open and made her way inside the house as we reached the front gate. She left the door open for us to follow, but my feet drew to a stop halfway across the path that led to it through her small yard. Silas stopped with me.

"Does that mean ghosts are real?"

It was the first words I had spoken since he had finished answering my questions. If it came as a surprise, he didn't show it.

"I don't see ghosts."

"No. You just raise the dead."

"Unfortunately."

A beat of silence passed. "Why do you blame yourself? For your mom's death?" I blurted out, unable to help myself as I recalled his and Hilda's conversation. Nothing about what he told me would place any blame on him.

I felt him tense beside me.

Once again, he surprised me with an answer. "I know her fate was a result of her own actions, but emotions don't always act rationally. Especially knowing the part I played in her death."

I turned to meet his eyes which were watching me closely. "What adds another target on our backs? The blood you share with your father, or what it can do?" It would be easier to avoid the latter depending on how widely known Silas and his ability were and how determined his father was to find his illegitimate son who didn't want to expose his secret. Or at least I hoped he didn't. It would make it so much harder if that was Silas's vengeful goal.

His shoulders loosened a fraction, relieved that I moved on from his guilt regarding his mother. "Both. My father is after me to erase my blood and the secrets it can reveal, while those who know what I'm capable of want to eliminate what they fear and don't understand."

I scoffed lightly. "Like you?"

Silas's brows furrowed in confusion.

"From what I've heard you say, it sounds like you hate being a necromancer despite it being what saved your life. Isn't it because you don't understand it and that scares you?"

I watched as the confusion pulling at his lip,  turned into a disgruntled frown. "I'm not scared of my own abilities."

I raised a brow. "You looked scared when you accidentally set that hay on fire while feeding Garvin last week."

His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. "Watch what you say, little dryad. You never know who may be listening, especially in the city."

"Why, afraid they'll think you have the stone?" My eyes narrowed to mirror his glare. 

"No, but you need to start fearing that someone will discover that you carry it a bit more."

"You think I don't fear the thought of being tortured until I'm driven to the point where cutting it out of my chest seems like the better opt-"