"To kill you. To kill werewolves."
"...Oh, wow."
I glare at him. Is it really the moment to act surprised? Did he think I was having a hard time keeping myself off snacks or what? He sighs and stares at me, even more determined than before. I try to focus on his eyes... mostly the icy-blue one.
"You don't have to listen to the voice, Mara. You're your own witch. Just tell her to shut the fuck up, and control it."
It's like yelling through a hurricane, and it sounds like a piece of very dumb advice from him. Yet, I decide to give it a try. I ignore her mentally, but her voice grows stronger. Then, I confront her, screaming internally for her to leave me alone.
Strangely, it seems to work. I still hear the screams, but they are a bit quieter, and most importantly, that scary voice telling me to kill Liam is gone. I let out a long sigh of relief. I can't believe it actually worked... I give myself a few seconds to get my senses back and calm down; I hadn't realized I was in such a panicked state. I'm still shivering a bit, and some drops of sweat are running down my spine.
When I find the strength to look at Liam Black again, our eyes meet, but it's like an electric shock to him. He lets go of my wrist and retreats immediately, looking stunned. What the hell? He almost falls on his arse while trying to get away from me, and stumbles back until we are a few steps apart. I frown, unsure of what funny game he's playing at. What the heck is it now?
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask.
"N-nothing. Just... Please stop looking at me like that."
"Like what? You're the one who came to give me some witch tips."
He growls a bit, annoyed. I didn’t realize growling is fully part of the werewolf language until now. I thought it was rather rare to do and only when they are super pissed, but it looks like they can do it anytime to express frustration too. How convenient. Don't wanna talk? You can just growl your unhappiness. It doesn't help me understand, though.
"It's just you're not... very decent looking."
Decent looking? What the heck is he talking about…?
I look down and realize my soaked shirt has been sticking to my body. What, is this what is flustering him now? I chuckle. I thought I was blushing too much, but just seeing a girl's body can make him so perplexed? Now that's a bit of a surprise. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself a bit more and lean against one of the benches, but I don't try to hide or anything. I can't help but find that a bit... amusing? Liam rolls his eyes and looks elsewhere. I can't help but think he does have something going on with me that I can't grasp yet.
"...How did you know?" I ask.
"About what?"
"How to calm them down. The voices."
He sighs and steps away some more. I'm not too happy about the distance he's putting between us, but thinking about what happened just seconds ago, I can't really blame him either. I was literally tempted to kill him.
"I just... guessed."
"I'm not your first witch, you said. You knew the other ones, right?"
This time, he makes a really sour expression. Does his witch hunter title have anything to do with the previous ones? He avoids my eyes again, looking at one of the murals. After a long silence, he slowly nods, making the piercings in his ears shine a little. Damn, I think I like those piercings.
"Witches have... this thing called the ancestors' blood. It allows them to be guided by their ancestors, especially when they are younger."
I scoff, baffled. Ancestors? The murderous voices in my head would be those of my potential witch ancestors? So far, we haven't found anything to link me to any other witch, other than the fact that I am in Silver City! I shake my head, doubtful.
"I don't think I–"
"All witches have it," he retorts. "It's sort of a... genetic ritual. They hear echoes of the voices of their ancestors, especially when they are troubled, or anxious, whenever they get unstable."
Or dangerously unhappy. Then what triggered it here? I wasn't really in a kind of negative state while chatting with Liam earlier, so why would those... ancestors’ voices come up? I don't even believe that is really what it is. Why would my ancestors or whoever the heck those voices belong to push me to become a murderer? It just makes no sense to me!
"There has to be some sort of mistake," I mutter.
"I don't see anything else that could match what you're experiencing."
"What the hell do you know? Are you a witch hunter or a witch expert?"
"A bit of both," he snickers. "I studied the subject..."
