Page 28 of The Clash of the Damned
“What do you mean they’re onstrike?”I hiss at Jax over the phone, any idea I had of a calm work-from-home day going out the window as I pace the living room. He’s silent for a moment longer than necessary, and he should be glad we’re on the phone. If he was standing in front of me, I would punch him.
“They have approached the unions to negotiate a pay rise, but until then, they’re on strike,” he repeats like a fucking parrot.
“Jesus, Jax, it was rhetorical. I heard you the first time.” I run my hand through my hair in frustration. “If you want to take over the empire, you’re doing a poor job of it. Sort it out. They’re paid way above minimum wage, so I don’t understand what the issue is. Look into the cult; I won’t be surprised if they’re behind the idea. Liquidate the fortune telling business for all I care. There, I’ve given you two ideas. I have other things to deal with.” Ending the call, I turn back to my laptop in time for the online call with my other business partner.
“Bonjour, Giselle, how is business in France?” While the circumstances that brought us together may have been unpleasant, joining forces with Giselle was definitely one of my smarter business choices. The Sorcerer’smay be under watch by that fucking cult, but they don’t know Giselle and her people, and that’s becoming especially useful. Looking over the floorplans strewn across my dining room table, I confirm some of the logistics required for this evening’s take over, ending the call after we agree to contact each other soon. I start rolling up some of the floor plans, and my phone chimes again. There is no way in hell she could be done that quickly.
“They needed to pay for their disrespect towards you. Something I would never allow when ruling at your side. Consider it an early anniversary present, handsome. Miss you.
xoxo.”
The text opens to a private video of two bodies hanging from a noose, and it takes me a moment to place them behind the swollen limbs. Katalina’s parents, the Sorcerer who tried to overthrow me a few weeks ago. I know her parents were…displeased with me killing her in retribution. While I don’t care for that family, I’m hit with a startling realization. They were the last of their line. The Children of Christ are finally getting their way. One by one, we’re going extinct. Turning my attention back to the video, I watch cult members spit at the dead bodies, and something inside me breaks. I throw the table with the plans across the room, enraged that my people keep being picked off like this. While I have all thispower, I seem powerless in my attempt to help them.
The front door slams, and I flinch. “Dom! Where are you? You need to see this!”
“In the second living room!” I respond, like we don’t have cellphones or magic at our disposal, and we must shout across our oversized home unnecessarily.
Remi storms into the living room still in her school uniform and stops short when she sees my appearance. “Why haven’t you shaved? And you’re wearing sweats? Are you okay, Dom? I’ve never seen you like this.”
Reece, right on her heels, barges into the room, demanding, “Why does it look like our living room had an explosion go off in it?”
Waving my hand in front of me, I motion for them to sit. “We have things we need to discuss.”
Before I can get into those items, Remi shoves her phone in my face to show me another video of a kid being beat up, wearing their school uniform. “He’s a Rogue, Dom. This could have been us. Every time it is taken off the main web, it pops up on a million dark websites.”
I’m not surprised they know about the dark web; I know I did way worse at their age. “First,” I start, “you won’t be going back to that school–”
“Well then you better tell us why you begged to send us away for Thanksgiving when it’s the one holiday we should be spending together?” Reece demands as she and her twin finally sit on one of the couches.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed Sloane’s absence.” The twins shift laser beam focus on me as I rip the figurative band aid off. “Well, it turns out there aren’t only four families; there is a fifth. I thought I could protect you from the truth. We tried to end the budding war before it began on Thanksgiving, but it all went to shit. Sending you away was still the right decision, which I lied about, and for that, I’m sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”
“How long have you known the truth?” Remi’s eyes narrow at me.
“Since Sloane arrived at our door. Her family contacted me a few months after Dad passed, and at first, I thought it was a joke that he supposedly knew about this secret family, but then she actually arrived. I did everything to keep you safe and keep an eye on her,” I trail off, unsure how to articulate what I feel for Sloane. “Her family has also claimed responsibility for Hecate’s disappearance, or death, whichever version you believe.”
In a move that mirrors each other, both twins fold their arms, looking unimpressed with my news. “Come now, Dom, you think your sisters wouldn’t have an idea of what you’re up to? We’ve known for a while; it was fun to see you squirm and try to explain it.” They smirk at me, and I’m relieved at the truth being out. No more secrets in our family means we can focus on saving our empire. I don’t know when my sisters grew up, but at this moment, they feel like my equals and not like the siblings I need to protect. I can see the leaders they are becoming and that scares me more than anything.
The twins have always held me accountable for my behavior, something they share with our late father, and I’ve never been more grateful for it in moments like this. “Well, I’m not thrilled at the lie. I know it’s easy to judge from the outside when you don’t have to live through these moments,” Reece confesses. They’re doing that twin thing where they complete each other’s sentences.
“Thank you. I appreciate that. From what I’ve seen in Dad’s notes, and what I’ve learned, Sloane’s family are known as Siphoners. While they produce magic like we do, they can’t generate it on their own the way we can. They rely on any energy source to do it–”
Remi gasps, a thought occurring to her, and before she does her twin telepathy act with Reece, she says, “There was a Siphoner at our school, wasn’t there?”
Reece’s are eyes wide as she turns back to me. “It makes sense, Dom. We didn’t know the new kid well, but our magic was always weaker around him.”
I pace as I worry for the twins safety and go into a dark place in my head. “I’ve always expected there to be more Siphoner’s, a family like ours. I know Sloane’s mom is dead, and her dad is at the center of their plan. I wouldn’t be surprised if he planted a Siphoner at the school to keep an eye on Sloane, close but not too close. It’s what I would have done.”
“Well as exciting as this all is, I have to ask what the strategy is, Dom? We’re Sorcerers, and we’re not going to take this lying down,” Reece adds. She’s right. One failed attempt at Thanksgiving doesn’t mean we should give up.
“Feelings aside, let’s look at what we know about Sloane, which isn’t much.” Holding up my fingers, I start listing everything. “Her family keeps coming for us. I don’t think they will stop until we’re all dead–”
“That’s all fine and well, but why is she using that group of humans to do the dirty work of a Supernatural?” Reece cuts me off. “It’s not our way, and I have to believe they’re powerful enough to not need the help, so what are we not seeing?”
“I have a theory about that,” Remi offers. “All this power in the world means nothing if you’re overwhelmed with numbers. Regardless of our issues, the four families would unite against hers. Sure, some of us would die, but some of her people would too. So she’s using someone else, to get rid of as many of us as possible before the final showdown.”
“Well, fuck me, you’re right,” I admit. Automatically, my brain switches to their preservation. I don’t care if something happens to me, but I won’t leave them in the same position that Dad did to us.
“You’re not going to like this, but we think we should do a seance to reach Dad. We’ve been talking about it for a while, but we need answers, and he has them. We wouldn’t do it if we weren’t desperate,” Reece suggests.
