“He’ll be put...” May paused as if considering her words, “…somewhere safe. We don’t like when one of our own attacks their own kind.”
“He killed Wesley!” I blurted out.
May seemed to consider this for a second and then I could see her reason it away as if it was unimportant. I could see the expressions move clearly across her face. It was clearly just how little she valued human life. It was more that someone had dared to break the rules. That was the true reason why Aiden was being punished.
“How did you find me?” I murmured as I sought to change the topic to something more tasteful.
“We were watching you.” May murmured casually, “I had a good feeling that Aiden would come after you again. Unfortunately, I hadn’t expected him to act during the Occursus. That made things awkward and prevented me to returning as quickly as I would have liked.
“You were waiting for this?” I replied my voice almost sounding like a shriek to my ears, “What was I? Bait for him?”
“Yes,” May replied darkly, as a dangerous tone entered her voice. I’d probably pushed her too far, but I didn’t care.
“We don’t allow our kind to do this,” May continued in her low tone, “People die when they do. We stop them. We contain them. We keep people safe. I don’t expect you to understand.”
She was right. I didn’t understand, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.
“We will arrange for medical facilities for you.” May stated in a manner of fact tone.
Apparently, I didn’t get a say in the matter as a few seconds later May teleported me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
My stomach was still angry with me. The teleportation hadn’t been pleasant. Callum had been right. I hadn’t liked it one bit. It had felt like someone had grabbed my entrails and attempted to pull them out through my gut. Had I had the choice, I think I would have preferred to have climbed down from the church rooftop. I must have passed out during the teleportation as I don’t remember arriving at my destination. Instead, I woke up in a bed with bandages on my arm and a drip hooked up to my other arm. Every time I leaned forward, my stomach cramped painfully and forced me to lie back down. I wasn’t sure how long I had been here, but it couldn’t have been more than few days.
Although I didn’t know where I was, I suspected that I was in the Primea’s manor in Paris. This room had the same look and style to the room that I’d briefly stayed in last time. I supposed that made sense. It wasn’t like they could send me to a regular French hospital without serious questions being asked. The bandages along my forearm itched like crazy, but I was amazed that they didn’t hurt. Maybe they’d given me something for the pain? That seemed likely. In fact, for all my adventures, I probably should have felt a little abused, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
I didn’t have much energy for anything other than sleep and I must have drifted in and out of sleep for the next few hours. I vaguely recall waking while someone changed the bandages on my arm and I saw, with horror, the thick ugly puffy scar line that ran down my arm held together with black evil looking stitches. The nurse must have noticed my expression as she calmly reassured me – or at least that I was what I presumed she was doing. She was speaking French and I had no idea what she had said. Her tone was comforting though and that did go some way to making me feel better.
All in all, it could have been worse. I shook my head as the memories of my attack came back to me. I wasn’t about to go to pieces over a cut up arm when Wesley had fared far worse.
The reminder didn’t help much and the nurse quietly finished her work and left me to my thoughts. I was grateful for the solitude as I really needed to be alone right now. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to last.
“Miss Wright?” A voice inquired from the doorway, “Are you feeling any better?”
I didn’t recognize the voice, nor the man when I turned to look at him. He was dressed in a severe black suit and had a look of calm professionalism about him.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, hoping he’d just go the hell away. No such luck.
“My name is Killian, Killian Voll.” He continued taking my response as an invitation to enter. He strode briskly across the room and pulled up a chair by my bedside.
“I’m sure you have many questions about your incident,” he began.
Incident. So that was what they were calling it now. It seemed so innocent. So innocuous for what had happened. As if it could excuse any manner of evil.
“No,” I grunted, “No questions.”
“Nonetheless,” Killian continued gently, “We do have some protocols in these cases.”
“Does this kind of thing happen a lot?” I asked sarcastically.
“No, not often,” Killian assured me, “Although lately there have been more and more incidents.”
“That must make you a busy man then,” I sighed, hoping once again he would just go away.
“I understand you’re confused,” Killian began, “But I really need….”
I didn’t let him finish. “You people used me as bait! You set your trap for Aiden and I was used to bring him in.”
I expected him to deny it, to bluster or attempt to explain. Instead, he stared at me with a soft expression of sympathy. If anything, that made it worse.
“Yes,” he admitted simply, “We used you as bait.”
I gritted my teeth and for a split second I almost asked him to leave.
“…we had no choice.” He continued.
“Bullshit.”
“No,” he declared, his voice for the first time taking on a steel edge, “Imagine for a second that you weren’t one of us. Imagine what happened to you, happening to someone who doesn’t understand what happened. They can’t understand. They can’t see Mana. We’re here to make sure that that doesn’t happen. We’re here to make sure that when our kind gets off the leash, that they don’t hurt anyone.”
I didn’t want to hear it. It sounded like a justification after the fact. He couldn’t explain it away. I’d been played, used – expended.
“Now,” Killian’s voice continued, “Are you capable of answering some questions?”
I almost told him no. Hell, I almost told him to go to hell, but I didn’t.
“Ask your questions.” I murmured. Better to get this over with.
He showed me several photos and asked if I’d ever seen Aiden interact with these people. I told him the truth - that I barely knew Aiden. I told him that I’d worked with him, but hadn’t really ever socially interacted with him until we were sent to London. I could tell that he didn’t like my answers. I suspect he was hoping to use me to build a larger case. I acted like I didn’t recognise the photos and it was true that I didn’t recognize most of them. There was one name that I did recognise - Victor Whittlesea. Why was Killian interested in him? Was he somehow involved in all this?
After what seemed like an hour, Killian finally relented.
“What happened to Aiden?” I asked as he began to pack up his photos back into their little folder.
“He’s somewhere safe.”
“He’s not dead?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. I hadn’t trusted that May had told me the truth.
“We don’t kill our own.” Killian replied with a firm tone. I couldn’t tell if he was telling me the truth either. In the end, I suppose it doesn’t really matter.
I would eventually see Aiden again, so in that at least he was telling the truth. Killian’s comment about Mages not killing each other would prove to be wrong – very wrong. When the war came, we would be killing each other in droves. Who could have predicted it? Who could have possibly seen it coming? Even having lived through it, I’m still not sure that I understand what went wrong. We thought ourselves so untouchable, so powerful. In the end none of that really mattered. Our power turned upon itself as we sought to tear each other down. War was coming.
To be continued.
A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
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