Page 15 of The Clash of the Damned
A family of four is sitting at the booth opposite ours, and the father leans over to help his daughter cut up her dinner. He says something to her, and she giggles. The exchange puts a smile on my face, reminding me of the moments I’ve had with the twins and the moments I hope to have with my children one day.
“Here’s your drink, sir.” Ricky places my whisky on the table. “If I could just add, that’s a really cool tattoo, haven’t seen anything like it.” He looks at my hand.
“Thanks, Ricky, give it a few more minutes for my guests to arrive. They’re running late.”
“No problem, I’ll keep an eye on your table while we wait for them.”
In our world, if a Supernatural wants help, they take it. They don’t ask for it.Ever. But look at where it’s gotten those before me. Dead. While I don’t regret any actions I took before this evening, as it’s kept my sisters safe, I know that if I don’t want to end up like the other Supernaturals, I need to start doing things differently. I need to ask for help. That may be harder to arrange than the actual sit down we orchestrated, especially considering how I left them. The four heirs have always been connected, but in the weeks since the sit down, we haven’t spoken past Sebastian’s engagement party, and that was painful, even for me.
Since forgiveness isn’t something we ask for, I needed to go with the next best thing; let each of the heirs know that I have information that could threaten their empires. After making it clear the danger isn’t coming from me. My leg bounces as I wait, the only sign I’m nervous. When I sent the message, I included a public meeting space. I knew none of them would come to my estate after the sit down. Instead, I chose an Italian bistro that I’ve frequented often, complete with checkered tiles, red, vinyl booths, and homey meals.
I look up to find Jude’s stony face staring back at me. With her black turtleneck and slacks, she fits right, not looking like the head of an underground empire responsible for much of the crime in this city. Luca is close behind with a matching outfit, and my face lights up as I see them. “Saveit,” Jude cuts me off. “We’re here because you said you have information. That’s it.”
It’s hard not to flinch at the venom in her voice, but she’s here, and that’s all I can ask for. I flag down Ricky for drinks. “Thank you for coming. We’re just waiting for Sebastian, and then we can start.”
Ricky gets our drink orders in like a pro, and not long after he places them on our table, Sebastian waltzes into the bistro, talking animatedly on his phone. He and I have been on good terms, but we haven’t had much contact between my travels and him transitioning into the head of his empire, covering up his parents death, working with his new sister, and explaining it all to Clark. “Sorry about that. It’s been chaotic with some new people we have on our payroll, and I couldn’t put off that call any longer,” Sebastian tells us.
“Surprised your shadows let you out of their sights long enough. Did they give you permission to be here?” Jude goads Sebatian. Hecate help me. If this is how it’s going to start, I’ll need more alcohol.
“We’re all here, Dom. Like you asked. You have about five seconds to give me a reason to stay before I leave,” Luca bites out.
“Right. Give me a moment to create what we need.” I speak in code as I wave my hands to weave the spells needed to talk privately. It would have been efficient to do this before they arrived, but they wouldn’t have trusted that. They need to see me perform the magic. My magic seems stronger than ever as the yellow smoke weaves out of my hands, and I cloak us in a privacy spell. Then green magic follows, making it so when a waiter crosses the privacy barrier, they will immediately forget anything they overheard about the Supernatural. Since Cannes, I’ve tried to hold off from doing magic as long as possible to give my energy a chance to replenish. If I lookat the ease at which I’m performing magic tonight, I find the break wasn’t needed, nor were the elements I used to assist my spell work.
“I’m sorry about how I left the sit down. It was needed. After tonight, you will understand why.” Of course that would be the moment that Ricky chooses to take our food order. I pick the first thing that comes to mind, chicken parmesan, and we wait for him to leave before I continue explaining the reason for this evening. “We’re all familiar with our creation story. Drusilla was the first of our kind, right?”
While the question is rhetorical, I need to know they’re all paying attention and taking this seriously. “Yes, and? Get to the point, Dom. Seriously,” Luca quips.
“Well, Drusilla wasn’t first. She was second. Edmund Frankenstein was the first Supernatural.”
Luca laughs. “All that magic must be getting to your brain, Dom. I thought I just heard you say there is another Supernatural family.”
I keep staring at her, and when no one joins in with her laughter, she stops. I’m being dead serious; this is no laughing matter. “They didn’t exactly keep records back then, and most of what we know today has been passed down through storytelling. A lot of which, my dad tried to write down.” I pause to take a sip of my drink. “From what he was able to piece together, Hecate wasn’t sure what she was doing the first time, and the process to create the Supernaturals didn’t go according to plan. Thinking nothing of it, she sent Edmund home as a failed experiment and continued creating our bloodlines.”
Jude leans back in her chair, her arms crossed. “What has this got to do with us? A failed Supernatural?”
Wow, they really need me to spell it out for them. Though I can see it dawning on Sebastian’s face. “It’s got everything to do with us, doesn’t it, Dom?” he asks.
“The adults are talking, and that does not include you.” Jude holds her hand up to him, like this will block him from doing anything.
“I will break your hand and shove–”
“Guys! This isn’t the time!” I chastise. While Luca and I can see the attraction between them still, something they won’t appreciate being reminded of, I need to get us back on track. “You are right, Sebastian.” Jude shoots a death glare my way. “Hecate and Frankenstein have always been more connected than the other Supernatural families. I suppose every parent is like that with their first born. Initially, Hecate thought her first creation had failed, but then horrible stories of someone bearing her first born’s description began circulating. Remember, in ancient Europe, cities were closer and more connected than they are now. She realized she hadn’t failed, Edmund was just different than what she had imagined. She made sure to dispose of him before we ran, but the damage was done.”
The servers deposit our meals at our table, and again, I give Ricky my best smile as he opens the wine. Tasting the sip he offers, I give him the go ahead to pour for the rest of the table. Cutting into my meal, I take a bite, and it’s still as good as I remember, with the gooey cheese and tart tomatoes. I continue telling the story.
“Even a Goddess makes mistakes. Hecate never thought to check if Edmund had children. He had gotten a human pregnant, so even though Edmund was dead, his legacy wasn’t. He had access to magic, but not the type Hecate had intended. It’s the same magic that his unborn child and every one of his descendants has inherited since then.”
“It seems like you’ve known this for a while. Why tell us now? More importantly, why should we trust you?” Jude asks as she twirls her pasta.
“There is a tangled web of lies that we’ve been born into, and just as I discover and come to terms with one thing, like my father’s death, another thing happens. I’m telling you now because Sloane is Edmund Frankenstein’s heir. She disappears for long, unexplained periods of time. While she always gives me a valid reason, there are holes in her stories, which make them difficult to believe. I thought if I gave her the fortune teller business to manage, you know, the front the Sorcerer’s have for humans?” Sebastian nods, encouraging me to continue.
“I was wrong. It still wasn’t enough–”
“Is everyone enjoying their meal?” Ricky appears, asking us at arguably the most important part of this evening. My patience snaps, and green magic weaves from my hand as I take control of his memories. “You will only come back when I flag you down. We’re enjoying our meal. You can tell your bosses that.”
“Yes, Mr. Hart.”
Ricky turns on his heel, leaving us in peace again. I don’t know what I expected from the heirs tonight, but they haven’t walked away yet, which gives me hope. “Start at the beginning, Dom. How did you get roped into this?” Sebastian asks.
