At the far end of the dead quarter stood an old three-story mansion with dark windows. Its facade was also covered in runes, large, carefully drawn symbols glowing with a faint bluish light.
They stopped in front of it.
This was the place.
The place where, according to rumor, the last witch was hiding.
"Well then? Time to visit grandma," Flash said with a crooked smile.
Creak!
They pushed open the heavy oak door of the mansion. It opened with a reluctant groan, as if unwilling to let them in.
Inside, the air smelled of old wood, dried herbs, and candle wax.
The half-darkness was thick, almost tangible. The only light came from several candles placed in the corners and on the shelves.
Protective symbols were everywhere, on the walls, the ceiling, even the floor. Some glowed faintly with a bluish light, reacting to Ethan's presence.
The black stake in his hand trembled harder, as if sensing resistance.
Flash went first, revolver ready. Gideon and Bruno covered the flanks. Ethan brought up the rear.
At the far end of the large hall, by an old fireplace, sat a woman.
She looked like an ordinary elderly lady of about seventy. An old plaid blanket lay across her lap. She didn't even raise her head when they entered.
"I know who you are," she said in a flat, lifeless voice, continuing to knit. The needles clicked softly.
"And I know what you've brought with you."
Flash stopped five meters away from her.
"Zeydana Grave?"
The woman finally looked up. There was neither fear nor curiosity in her eyes.
"For you, just Zeyd. Or whatever you prefer."
Her gaze shifted to Ethan. And at that moment something changed.
The knitting stopped in her hands. For a second the illusion wavered. The wrinkles deepened, the skin on her face grew thinner, and in her eyes flashed something ancient, almost feral.
"You…" she whispered.
"Not just infected. It's been a long time since I've seen a human with this mark. Most people lose the trait after transformation, it shows much stronger afterward."
Ethan involuntarily took a step back. The black stake in his hand suddenly grew heavier.
Zeydana slowly stood up. The plaid blanket fell to the floor. She no longer looked like a simple old woman.
The illusion slid away like old skin. Before them stood the real witch, a beautiful woman of about twenty-five, blonde with green eyes.
"I don't help those who carry death with them," she said coldly and indifferently.
"Especially when death has already begun to devour the carrier from the inside."
Gideon stepped forward, pistol still raised.
"We don't work for the vampires. We came because we need help for him."
"I see what's wrong with him," Zeydana interrupted, never raising her voice.
"I see everything. The curse has already claimed him. He is no longer simply human."
"And that door is beginning to open."
She looked straight at Ethan, without pity.
"I won't help until I'm certain you're not working for them."
"For all those who created this abomination."
Flash slowly holstered his revolver, showing he had no intention of shooting.
"We're not working for them," he said firmly.
"We're killing them. Laurent is dead. Roy is dead too."
"We came because Ethan needs help so he doesn't become the next one."
Zeydana was silent for a long time. She circled them in a wide arc, studying them. Her gaze slid over the black lines on Ethan's neck, over the stake in his hand, over the faces of the others.
"You're telling the truth," she said at last.
"But truth is not enough. I have seen people with honest eyes bring only death."
"I have seen vampires use hunters as bait."
She stopped directly in front of Ethan and looked him straight in the eyes.
"Show me that you are not yet their tool."
"I hope there is still something human left in you."
Ethan swallowed.
Then Zeydana raised her hand and touched his forehead. She literally saw everything, from the beginning to the end, and then stopped.
"Enough," she said.
Zeydana stared at him for a long time. Then she slowly nodded.
"Very well."
"But if I sense any lie… I will simply close the door. And you will leave exactly as you came."
She turned toward the fireplace and tossed a pinch of dried herbs into the fire. The flames flared green.
"Sit down," she repeated in the same flat, lifeless voice.
"And tell me everything."
The guys slowly took seats on the old chairs and the sagging sofa. Flash sat closest to the witch, Gideon and Bruno on the sides, Ethan directly opposite. The stake reacted immediately to Zeydana's presence.
Thin silvery cracks ran across its surface, and something inside it growled quietly.
Elizabeth did not sit.
She remained standing, looking down at them. Her gray eyes were cold and piercing, as if she could already see through each of them.
"Let's begin with you," she said, looking at Ethan.
"Show me your arm…"
Ethan slowly rolled up his sleeve and pulled down his collar. The black lines were clearly visible, they ran from his wrist to his shoulder, crossed onto his neck, and were already creeping toward his jaw.
The skin around them looked gray and cold.
Elizabeth stepped closer. She reached out and touched one of the lines with her fingertips. Ethan flinched.
The touch was icy, yet burning at the same time.
"A living prison," the witch whispered.
"Not just a curse. You have become the vessel."
She stepped back, picked up an old copper basin from the table, and set it on the floor in front of Ethan.