Page 30 of The Clash of the Damned
“Dom!” One of the twins shouts as they both storm into the office. “You don’t want us to go out, but you’re going to this frat boy party?” Reece motions to my tux. She is always the one to call out double standards, and it’s good to see that the uncertainty for our empire doesn’t change who she is. Knowing we can remain consistent in times like this is what creates leaders that the Supernaturals want to follow. Ignoring her, I keep hunting through the boxes to find the black leather journal.
“Yes, I’m still going. Our empire needs representation, especially now. There is less of a chance Sloane will hurt me, and I’m better equipped to defend myself from her if I need to.”
Looking up, I see Reece’s eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”
“I wasn’t referring to magic. I was referring to her feelings for me.”
There was one place that Sloane couldn’t have known about, a loose floor board next to the shelf. I lift it and breathe a sigh of relief as I find what I’m looking for. Grabbing the leather bound journal, I flip through the pages, looking for a dated entry I didn’t pay attention to before, but now it feels important as I try to connect everything. “What are you looking for, Dom? This place looks like a train wreck, and you’re holding that journal like it has all the answers.”
“Well, I’m hoping it does. These are Dad’s notes on the fifth family. I didn’t understand what it meant at the time, but now, I think I overlooked something important.” Stopping at the page in question, I tap it. “This entry is dated about twelve years ago, and it talks about a female assasination, noted next to the fifth. I think this was Sloane’s mother.”
Reece grabs the journal and reads the entry out loud. “The Vance’s came across them in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. They enacted the automatic assassination order on them, and I tried to warn the fifth, butI was too late. Helene, the leader, William’s wife, was executed, and they ran. I believe they had a daughter not much older than my girls, and I need to see if I can find her and make sure she’s okay. A girl needs her mother.”
Reece looks up, tears shining in her eyes, and snaps the journal closed. Remi hugs her sister, and I follow suit. It’s moments like this that remind me why I’ve done all this, and why there is nothing I won’t do to protect them.
“If Sloane ever needed a motive outside of the obvious, we now have one. I would be pissed and on a warpath if someone killed you, Dom. I wouldn’t stop until I murdered them all.” Reece’s chest heaves from the passion of her statement, and Remi tries her best to diffuse the growing tension.
“Aren’t you late for the party, Dom? I still can’t believe the Druids are going through with it, or that you got an invite. We all know you’re their least favorite person.” Glaring at my sister until she gets the message, I fix my cufflinks and grab my wallet. What my sisters don’t understand is that as the head of the empire, things like love are irrelevant. It’s about power, protection, and longevity.
“Wait! I almost forgot! We didn’t show you what we’ve been working on. I know it’s only been a few hours, but you have to look before you leave.”
Intrigued, I follow the twins back to the living room, and I find Jax’s golden hair bobbing behind a whiteboard. Next to him is another family pouring over the periodic table and more families reviewing a grimoire. Walking over to Jax, I hold my hand out in a show of solidarity. “I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, especially with what happened at the sit down, but I appreciate you being here.”
He pauses for a moment before he takes my offered hand. “I liquidated the fortune teller business; you were right. So I have a lot more free timethan usual on my hands, and the twins convinced me I could help here.” I smile at my sisters. “It doesn’t help that I don’t trust humans right now, even if they come from Ryder. We have no idea who’s one of the cults and who isn’t. We’ve never needed to check before this. Once we’ve dealt with them, we can go back to hating each other if needed.” This is why I went to him for help after the sitdown in the first place.
“Take a seat, Dom,” Reece instructs, pointing to a dining room chair, while she wheels one of the whiteboards over for show and tell. Pointing to the first diagram, Reece maps out their work, the same way a school teacher would. “First, we had to go back to the beginning, The Sorcerer Tome of Origins.” I spot the book laying in the corner, discarded. “We thought that was our truth, and it clearly isn’t, but it’s still better than knowing nothing.” She purses her lips as she considers something before resuming her explanation. “While we debated doing another seance,” she shoots a sharp look at her twin, “we decided that despite our ties to necromancy through our Goddess, we weren’t going to risk her wrath by messing with death again, and some things should still follow the natural order of life. Even if she left this mess for us.”
Remi rolls her eyes at her twin as she takes over the explanation. “The Siphoner’s were the first. So we can assume there were four bloodlines that appealed to her, not three as we were led to believe. Why did the spell not take the first time?”
Remi jumps back into the fray. “When we could come up with no conceivable answer, we turned to the human’s way of comparing data. Siphoners versus Sorcerers. So similar, yet so different. We can generate magic on our own, but they can’t and need an outside source, kind of like a lightbulb. It won’t work on its own, but if attached to electricity, it will.If you apply plastic or any form of insulation to said lightbulb, it blocks the energy absorption.”
My mind races as I look over the equation before I complete her sentence. “Sloane is the transformer, and you need to create the magical insulation?” Reece’s face lights up in confirmation.
“We think if we can block magic in one of us, it should work in a Siphoner too, but we don’t have a full proof way to test it. This is the best we’ve got, so we’ve got to make it work.”
They see my face and quickly add, “We promise we’ll be careful. Jax has offered to be our test subject.”
“If it works, call Jude and give her the blocker. Sloane has been controlling her for weeks, and I would like to consider it a peace offering to the Druids.”
“Consider it done,” Jax adds.
“Don’t die, Dom. Life would suck without you.”
Giving a sly smile, I respond, “I don’t plan on it.”
Chapter 23 | The Taste Of You
Sebastian
Magic is at the core of each Supernatural empire. It makes us different from a regular human, and without it, none of us would exist. The Siphoner’s are such a danger to our existence, because they have the ability to take that way from us. While it may be the most obvious with the Sorcerers, it’s present in the Rogues healing abilities and the rest of our gifts. What would kill the average human, we’re protected from with magic. It’s present in the Druids with their ability to change forms, and in the Undead with their ability to manipulate blood. This is why I have to be so careful with ourguest.
Despite mine and Jude’s complicated history, Brooklyn and I have remained close. She was the one who gave me the lead that she suspected someone was watching them at school. After I kidnapped the Siphoner for answers, I knew I had to get creative. If I hit him too hard, I will give him the magic he can’t create on his own. I’m not entirely sure if he needs his hands to draw magic from another source, so just in case, I keep his hands tied behind his back and the lights off. Punching the dark haired man, Irealize he can’t be older than twenty, judging by the acne marks on his skin. His head cracks from the impact, and a droplet of blood forms between my knuckles.
Shit.
My healing kicks in, and his head snaps up; he can feel my magic too. Not giving him a chance to move past that, I grab his hair and yank his head back. “If you tell me your plan, I’ll let you live.” He spits blood in my face, and I don’t flinch, used to worse as I watch him smile through his blood stained teeth.
“We both know that’s a lie. I’m not walking out of here alive. The least I can do is die knowing we willalwaysbeat you.” He laughs hysterically, and I know any further questioning is a lost cause. I snap his neck, and his lifeless body slumps over in the chair. I turn towards a slow clap and find Dom leaning against the entrance to the room we reserve for unwanted guests like the Siphoner.
