Scion

by Kelly Oram

  “Sweet. Where’re we meeting?”

  “The D.C. consulate library.”

  “Will that be safe?” Clara asked with a nervous glance my direction as she stood up and brushed imaginary dirt off her pants.

  Dani shrugged. “Marcus said the coast is clear over there because the council thinks he’s loyal to them. I think he’s right. Gabriel was certainly shocked to learn he was a member of the resistance. And I guess your werewolf friends are already over there with Marcus, patrolling the area looking for lurkers and any magical traps that might have been set. We should be good.”

  My mood lightened significantly at this news. It was a relief to have someone else making decisions, instead of just waiting for me to move. Plus, the last resistance meeting I attended—okay, crashed—at the D.C. consulate library had snickerdoodles and coffee. I threw my arm around Dani’s shoulders and headed back into the house, where the others were probably waiting for us. “Lead the way, Dani girl.”

  . . . . .

  The Washington, D.C., consulate library was in the home of the city’s High Warlock, Marcus Courtney. It was a big, fancy house that was older than the country itself. They kept the books on the first floor. Marcus’s living quarters were on the second floor, and the third floor was home to a large, warded secret meeting room with low ceilings and horrid floral wallpaper.

  The room was packed when we got there. Even though we’d been the ones to call the meeting, we were the last to arrive. I wasn’t surprised. Simone had a thing for dramatic entrances. Among the crowd, all the usual suspects were present. Logan Dunn—Ethan’s uptight uncle and head of the local nephilim clan—was there with a few of his cronies, plus Simone, Marcus, and Mr. Layton along with a few of his high-ranking wolves. Those were the few I knew, but there were quite a few others I’d never seen before, including a handful of fey. The fey creep me out. Most of them are nasty, demented, bloodthirsty creatures.

  Leslie stayed back at Simone’s house with Dani’s mom and dad. John and Rachel were so happy to have Dani back that they were doing surprisingly well with the truth, but they were still pretty freaked out. Dani didn’t think bringing them into a cramped meeting full of monsters discussing a potential supernatural war would have been very healthy for them. I totally concurred.

  The only person who seemed to be missing from this meeting was Duncan. I was curious to see if he was willing to break his cover or if we’d be planning this adventure without him.

  Cynthia and Caleb saved seats in the cool-kid section of the room for Dani, Gabe, Clara, and me. We headed over to them quickly, ignoring the gasps and whispers of the surprised resistance members, but before we could sit down, Simone grabbed my arm and pulled me to the front of the room. “Russell, darling, don’t be so modest. Introduce your guests.”

  Swallowing back a snarky quip, I spun around to face the witch. Her sugary smile made my anger flare—she was always worse when she had an audience. I plastered on a fake grin to match her saccharine one and even showed her up by batting my lashes. “Of course. Anything for you, Auntie Simone.”

  My grin turned real when her eyes flashed with annoyance. “Everyone…” I grabbed Dani and pulled her to my side. “This is Dani. Also known as the Chosen One, or if we want to be less pretentious, the Chameleon. I totally came up with that one, by the way. Superpowers include: becoming whichever supernatural species she feels like, scaring people with her wild hair, and being as stubborn as a mule.”

  There was a mixture of shocked and amused faces among the crowd. Simone looked outraged—which was awesome since that was what I was going for. Dani gave an obnoxious snort. “I’m stubborn?”

  “Point taken. Moving on.” I waved a hand at Gabe. “This Shakespeare-wannabe goober is Gabe.”

  “It’s Gabriel, actually,” Dani interrupted. “Not Gabe.”

  “He sees things. Sometimes. Don’t shake his hand if you don’t want him looking into your future. He also has an uncanny ability to be annoying. Oh, and he reads auras—whatever that means.”

  Gabe bowed his head slightly in greeting to all the people in the room, ignoring my annoying crack—which really only proved the truth of it. Dani sighed, and they went to take two of the empty chairs Cynthia had saved for us.

  “Thank you, Russell, darling, for that—”

  “And speaking of auras…” Clara had already taken a seat, but I pulled her back up with me as well. “Everyone take a very close look.”

  “Russ, what are you doing?” Clara hissed, glancing at all the eyes now focused on her.

  “They were all about to notice, anyway; I’m just saving time, and sparing you a lot of awkward conversations.” I spun her as if we were in the middle of a dance and smiled for the crowd. “Meet the new and improved Clara Laroche, only known living witch-warlock hybrid.” At their gasps and cries of outrage and incredulity, I pulled Simone to my other side. The witch was fuming. It was great. “Oh, come on. You all know what a power hungry, naughty slut my godmother is. This shouldn’t surprise you. But on the bright side, we’ve got a rock star magic user. Clara is a Valois warlock. Jacque Valois, Supreme High Councilor’s warlock daughter, to be precise.”

  Clara stared at the ground with flaming cheeks, squirming beneath everyone’s attention. I felt bad for making her so uncomfortable, so I chucked an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. “She also has an affinity for healing magic. The little hybrid hottie has saved my life several times now, when it should have been impossible.”

  Giving her a squeeze, I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Clare Bear.”

  She sucked in a small, surprised breath but quickly got her emotions back under control. After pulling out of my embrace, she gave me a very unimpressed look and asked, “Hybrid? Seriously?”

  “Would you prefer war-witch? Or witch-lock? Or how about we call you ‘Prius’?” I shot her the infamous Devereaux grin. “You know, like the car? ’Cause they’re gas and electric?”

  The look on Clara’s face was classic. She’d never been on the receiving end of my teasing before. This new non-hateful relationship between us was going to take some getting used to for both of us.

  Clara was annoyed, but trying not to laugh. When she cracked a smile, she got pissed off at herself. Hilarious. She leaned in close and muttered into my ear. “Like you’re one to talk, Scion.”

  She totally had me there. I burst into laughter, and she elbowed me. It only made me laugh harder.

  “For the record, I’d prefer ‘kick-ass magic user,’ and if you ever call me any of those idiotic nicknames again, you’ll see just how much truth there is to the legend when I blast you from here to the netherworld.”

  I was surprised by her attitude, and my smile doubled in size. “Dang, Clara, that threat was kind of hot. I don’t know whether I’m turned on right now or disgusted. I think it’s a little of both, and it’s really freaking me out.”

  Clara’s eyes widened, but she quickly smirked to hide her shock. “In your dreams, Russ.”

  We laughed, until we realized we’d gained the attention of everyone in the room. “Did I miss something?” Caleb muttered to his sister.

  “I know I did,” Cynthia answered. “What the hell, Russ? You and Clara?”

  “It’s a long, twisted story.”

  “And we are not together,” Clara added. With unnecessary passion, if you ask me.

  “We’ll have a sleepover soon and catch you up on all the gossip,” I promised Cynthia. “But first, let’s go get Ethan and Grace back.”

  “What about Ethan and Grace?” Cynthia demanded.

  “Your dad didn’t tell you why we called this meeting?”

  “Where are Ethan and Grace?”

  “I guess that’s a no,” Clara muttered.

  I sighed. Playtime was over. “They’re missing.”

  While the noise level in the room increased with angry murmurs, I dragged Clara back to her seat and took the chair next to her. It wasn’t until I settled in that I re
alized it was quiet again and everyone was looking at me, waiting for further instruction.

  Really? They had the Seer, the Chosen One, and four of the top leaders of the resistance, yet they were all still looking to me for the answers. Did I have FEARLESS LEADER tattooed on my forehead or something? Oh, well. At least if I was in charge, things would get done, and they’d get done my way. “Fine.” I rose to my feet with a sigh and moved to the front of the room. “Ethan and Grace left my house in Pennsylvania a few hours before the rest of us, and were heading back here. They never showed, and they haven’t contacted anyone or answered their phones. The council’s got to have them, and I believe I know just the person to ask.”

  As I reached for my cell phone, Duncan entered the room. The temperature dropped a good ten degrees as everyone froze. Duncan was head of the guardians. Everyone at this meeting figured he’d finally found the resistance and was here to bust them. The idiots had no idea he was the man who’d started the resistance. They were looking at their true leader, and were waiting for him to kill me. Heh. This was going to be fun.

  Duncan met my smirk with one of his own. The look that passed between us said it all. Dani and I had called him out on his secret. We’d forced him to act, and he respected us for it. We understood one another. I rubbed my hands together and faced the crowd. “Well. Now that we’re all finally here, this meeting can get started. Everyone, say hi to your true leader, founder and head of the resistance, Duncan Moore. Duncan, care to shed some light on the disappearance of the Ungifted One and her warrior?”

  As everyone gasped and murmured, Duncan chuckled and shook his head. “You certainly have a flare for the dramatic.”

  I smiled as we shook hands. “I’m not the only one, though, am I? How long were you standing outside the door listening, waiting for the perfect moment to make your entrance?”

  Duncan’s chuckle escalated to a full-fledged laugh. “Guilty.” He clamped a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get this meeting started, shall we?”

  After I briefed everyone on the situation with Ethan and Grace, I looked at Duncan. “The council has to have them. Make some calls, or whatever you need to do. Figure out where they’re keeping them, and how many people are guarding them.”

  “The council doesn’t have them, Russ.”

  “They have to,” Cynthia said. “Who else would take them?”

  Duncan raised his hands, quieting everyone when the room exploded into murmurs again. “You have to trust me. The council doesn’t know of my involvement with the resistance. I’m still head of the guardians, and my soldiers report back to me, not the council. They are out searching for all of you right now. If they’d found Ethan and Grace, I would have been informed first. The council would have called me home to guard them.”

  “Maybe they figured you out,” Dani said. “Russ did.”

  Duncan shook his head. “They haven’t. Besides, the council would never harm a warrior, and if Ethan did not come willingly, then how could they ever hope to capture him?”

  I snorted. “They couldn’t.”

  I stopped laughing. He was right. We were talking about Ethan. The dude is a force to be reckoned with. It would take an army to kill him, and nothing less than death would make him go with the council. Nobody could stop him, short of catching him by surprise and taking him out quickly—which the guardians would never do. No way would they harm the first warrior since the Oracle’s time.

  And then it hit me. “Oh, crap! How could I be so stupid?” I ranted to myself, pacing in a small circle as I yanked at my hair. “I just left them there with him without giving them any warning. Ethan couldn’t have seen it coming! It’s not supposed to be possible! I’m going to kill him!”

  I didn’t snap out of it until Clara slapped me across the face. “I wish people would stop doing that,” I growled.

  “Russ! What the hell is your problem?”

  “It’s my father.”

  “Your father?” Simone asked, perking up at the mention of her lifelong crush. She’d been sulking pretty badly since the minute Duncan showed up, because it appeared I’d replaced her as his number-one trusted sidekick.

  The topic of Alexander Devereaux was about as welcome in the resistance as it was in the council. Which, for your information, was about as welcome as another M. Night Shyamalan movie, or the rising of the underworld. Apparently, my father was the single most-hated supernatural on the planet.

  While the room exploded into arguments and heated theories, Cynthia crossed the room and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Why would your dad want to take Ethan and Grace?”

  Curious of my answer, everyone quieted down. “He’s going after the council. If he uses Grace to do it, Dani and Gabe won’t see it coming to warn them. They can’t see her. He told me his plan, but I didn’t think he’d try it because I said I wouldn’t help him, and he can’t do it without this.”

  I pulled Beelzebub’s talisman out from underneath my shirt. I was relieved to still have it, but if I had it, then how had Dad stopped Ethan?

  Logan shot to his feet. “Are you wearing the crest of Michael?”

  I looked down, surprised to see that I’d grabbed the wrong necklace. “Oh, wrong one. My bad. I meant this one.”

  Before I could tuck the medallion back in my shirt and produce my talisman, Logan invaded my personal space in a major way. He flipped over my medallion to read the back. Like Ethan’s, mine was also engraved. It read: RUSSELL ALEXANDER DEVEREAUX, FAITHFUL SERVANT, BELOVED OF MICHAEL.

  Logan dropped the necklace, as if it had burned him. His face paled. Questions burned in his eyes, but I didn’t have time to get into it. Reaching for the other string around my neck, I said, “I meant this. My father would need this to get Gracie away from Ethan. It’s an ancient demonic talisman that can turn supernaturals human.”

  I knew the idea was farfetched, but people didn’t need to stare at me as if I were crazy. We’d all seen enough “impossible” things happen lately that they should have believed me at least a little.

  “Um, Russ?” Dani said. “You’re still holding the same necklace—the one Michael gave you.”

  I looked down again, and sure enough, Michael’s medallion was in my hand instead of Beelzebub’s talisman. “What the?”

  I searched frantically for the second necklace, but every time I reached for it, I ended up with the medallion in my hand.

  Clara grasped the medallion, closed her eyes, and concentrated a moment. “It’s magicked with a very subtle illusion spell. I think it’s meant to make the object look like what you want it to.”

  I said a very bad word that I haven’t said in months and felt myself start to fall into the darkness. Clara immediately put her hands on my cheeks. “Russ, calm down. Whatever he’s done, we can’t stop him if you lose yourself.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and forced my mind closed. She had a point. I needed to be myself in order to stop my dad. Besides, if he’d used that talisman on Ethan, I wanted it to be me that killed him. Beelzebub was not going to take that from me.

  “Russ, what is it you think your father has done?” Logan stepped forward, grave but calm, trying to reassure me that I had help. Yeah, the guy definitely understood that my medallion meant Michael had claimed me. Normally Ethan’s uncle was Douche Extraordinaire, but now he was acting like my long-lost mentor.

  Quickly, I recapped my time in Carmine, leaving out the most crucial details of my being bound to the devil and inheriting his power, of course. I explained to everyone about the talisman, its powers, and what my father planned to do with it. Once everyone was up to speed, I told them all about the Leventis farm and the demon artifacts that had been hidden away in it for centuries. I felt like a college professor giving a lecture, standing there in front of them all.

  “The Knights Templar,” Duncan whispered with reverent fascination. “I didn’t believe they still existed.”

  “Knights Templar?” Dani asked the question, but she wasn’t the only one c
onfused. The term was only vaguely familiar to most of us in the room.

  “Human history would have you believe that they were nothing more than a Christian military order formed during the Crusades,” Gabe explained, seeming as in-the-know on the subject as Duncan. “But there are records in the council archives that speak of the Order’s organization by the angel Michael after the Banishment, when he took his angel brethren back to live with the Creator.

  “He charged the nephilim with the duty of defending the people of Earth, but he feared that because of the supernatural properties of the relics, they would have influence over supernatural beings, so he formed the Templars from a group of humans whom he believed would not be as susceptible to the demonic power. He gave them the task of tracking down the remaining relics and destroying them, or hiding them when destroying them was not possible.”

  “Why wouldn’t that be possible?” Caleb asked. We were all caught up in the story. “It’s not like the relics were the One Ring and could only be destroyed by being dumped into Mount Doom.” He frowned, and then gave Gabe a quizzical look. “It’s not, right? Mount Doom’s not real, is it?”

  Idiot.

  Gabe smiled. “No. Tolkien wrote pure fiction. However, the concept of the indestructible ring is very similar to the relics of Beelzebub. These ancient tools were forged by the Dark Angel himself and infused with his demon glory. They are so strong that only true angelic power can destroy them.”

  “It takes a genuine seraph blade,” Duncan said. “But weapons infused with angel glory are extremely rare.” He had an excited glint in his eyes. I wasn’t surprised that the idea of these bad-a human knights with their demon-killing weapons excited the guy.

  “In fact,” he continued, “it’s debatable that any still exist in this world. The Knights Templar were given a handful of those weapons. They passed them down from generation to generation among the strongest Templar families, but when the Templars were hunted down and destroyed during the Crusades, most of the weapons were lost. By then, most people had forgotten the real mission of the Templars, and didn’t know the truth of the power in their weapons.”