by Frey Ortega
Soraya and Haley are dead.
And it’s my fault.
Chapter Ten
This motherfucker.
Who is he to point fingers at my mate?
Elijah’s blood boiled, and he jolted up from his seat, making the chair clatter behind him almost violently. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, ready to tear into this man like day-old jerky. Something cold and dark took a hold of him—a feeling deep inside him that slowly snaked outward. If he were a lesser man—a man with less patience, definitely, although he was already trying very hard to hold onto that—he would have snapped this asshole’s neck by now.
How dare he?
“Don’t you raise your voice at my mate like that,” Elijah said, his voice low. His eyes narrowed. He could feel the desire to protect Bennett coursing through his veins. If this was how it felt to have a mate, he wasn’t sure he liked it—not at this very moment, anyway. Even if he didn’t, though, he knew he had to do this.
It was unnerving to be this attached, this quickly—and yet Elijah knew that the only thing he could do was surrender to his emotions.
Sometimes, it was all a man could do.
There was a ringing in Elijah’s ears that he had finally noticed just as it started to subside, and a thundering of his heartbeat that slowly faded as he took deep breaths. In that moment, his mind tunneled into all the ways he could have made this man suffer for offending his mate the way he did.
It wasn’t until he felt Vadim place a hand on his shoulder that he was brought back, and he looked down to see his knuckles had turned white from how hard he was clenching his hands around the table before them. He could have easily splintered the wood, or flung this conference table through the glass, aiming it right at the fucker’s head. It would have been a bull’s-eye. He could have killed the man outright with a single shard of glass.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Elijah looked at the warlock and his blanched face, his eyes wide with fear. There was the unmistakable tremor of a man who had clearly realized his mistake. Even if not that, he sure as hell was regretting his outburst of emotions. The guy was probably—no, scratch that, definitely—a step away from pissing his pants.
That was enough for Elijah. For now, anyway.
When Elijah turned to look at Bennett, the anger that bubbled inside of him turned immediately into worry.
He didn’t want his mate to see him as some kind of monster. Then he would be no better than Marcel. Not to mention, the look on Bennett’s face spoke volumes about what was going on underneath. There was a hollowness in his expression that told Elijah all he needed to know, and he wanted to rush right to his mate’s side to soothe the pain in his heart.
Patience, Elijah. Learn some patience.
He sat back down.
“Now is not the time to point fingers, especially to another warlock,” Ifeya said softly, her voice sharp as she regarded one of her children. The man flinched. “Tell us what you know, dear heart. Leave no detail behind.”
“Fine. I’m sorry,” the man said softly, mumbling the words as he turned to look at Bennett with what Elijah could only assume was a wary glimmer in his eye. He moved a few steps into the conference room and toward the group before taking a deep breath. “Haley and Soraya had been gone all day because they said they were going to test their new magical research on some of the plants in the community garden nearby. But when I checked up on them, they weren’t there.”
Elijah turned to look at Bennett and frowned.
Bennett somehow seemed smaller now, more than ever. He was curling in on himself, and it was clear in the glaze of his eyes that his thoughts were a million miles away. Bennett then looked at the other warlock. “And then what?” he asked softly, his voice monotone and distant.
Elijah frowned even deeper.
The warlock turned to look at Bennett, and Elijah could tell he was trying to hide his disdain from the way the warlock’s nose scrunched up. “There was a little blood, so as usual I placed a bit on a scrying crystal. I tried to find them. The crystal went crazy,” he explained. “It started tapping at different parts of the map of the city. The crystal split into two at first, which led me to believe that Soraya and Haley were at different locations, but then they started scattering. So I marked each location and asked a few of the other house members to help me check each place out.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” Eos muttered under his breath.
“And what happened after that?” Ifeya asked.
The warlock’s face blanched, and he shook his head. “We found them. Parts of them, anyway. Cut up. We cast death magic. We saw their last moments. Both of them were alone—afraid. They were in so much pain. Soraya could hear Haley’s cries, but she couldn’t do anything. The Cleaners kept them apart, but close enough to hear what they were doing to the other. It was…vile.”
The man cleared his throat. Whatever he saw was enough to unhinge him. He adjusted the way that he stood. There was a quiver in his lower lip as he turned away and wiped at his eyes.
He needn’t have said any more. Ifeya raised her hand to stop the warlock from speaking. An array of emotions crossed her face as she leaned back against her chair. She closed her eyes, and whispered a few soft words that resembled a prayer. When she opened her eyes to look at the people in the room again, it looked like she was close to tears.
Elijah couldn’t blame her.
Julien tented his fingers together. He was a million miles away for a moment, thinking about something. Strategizing, probably—he had always been a thinker and a planner. That’s why he was their coven leader.
“First off, I’m sorry for your loss,” Julien said.
Ifeya shook her head. “Let’s get these Cleaners out of our city and out of our lives for good.”
“I’m not so sure that the Cleaners will be brazen enough to try to attack our home, but they’ll definitely try to pick us off if we go outside,” Julien said.
“You’re right.” Ifeya turned to look at Julien, her expression much grimmer than earlier. “We’d be easy to pick off—my children, especially. We might be powerful with our magic, but we can’t do anything against a knife catching us unaware in a dark corner. We don’t have heightened senses like you vampires do.”
“That means that for the time being, the witches and warlocks need to remain in the Blanchard building,” Julien said. He looked at Eos. “You’ll be staying inside, too. I don’t want you going out while this is going on.”
Eos nodded. “I think I can handle that. I’ll tell Orion so he can come stay here if he wants to.”
“As for the coven, I think it’s safest if we ask people to go out in groups right now while we deal with this threat. We should probably make patrol groups bigger. No less than four of your men per patrol, Vadim,” Julien ordered as he looked at the bigger man. “That way, no one gets caught unaware.”
“And what exactly are we planning to do to make sure the Cleaners get off our back?” Elijah asked.
“The cleanest way would be to play it passively. It’d simple. They’re here because of Marcel. If they figure out that he’s either dead or moved on, so will they…or so I hope,” Julien answered. “We can try to get in contact with another group of hunters. That way, they can be the one to relay the message that Marcel is dead. After all, these people aren’t inclined to trust us about anything when they treat us more like cattle. Until then, we just have to be vigilant, and let them conduct a search through our city, all the while keeping an eye on them until they leave.”
“If they’re willing to kill a pair of witches, they’re not going to back down so easily,” Ifeya said. “And by killing two of my daughters, they’ve made this very personal, Julien. I don’t think I feel comfortable taking a passive role in this. They brought this fight to us. We need to answer them in kind.”
Julien closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath before he continued. “You’re right. I may not
like the idea because of how it could attract more unwanted attention, but considering they attacked first without considering the consequences, we’re in the right to retaliate. The first thing we need is information about our enemy. Their numbers, their modus—how well-equipped they are—just to start, of course. The more information we have, the better. We need to know how many Cleaners are in town, and how long they’ve been on Marcel and Bennett’s trail. We can seek them out and eliminate them, and pray it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass later on.”
“What are the odds of that happening?” Elijah asked.
“I’d say it’s a fair fifty-fifty shot of this entire situation going sideways,” Julien replied. “Remember, we’re dealing with zealots who don’t see reason and think that our community is a blight on human society. Be that as it may, our chances change when we’re armed with more information. Vadim, can I entrust you to handle the intel-gathering for us as well?”
Vadim nodded. “Whatever we decide to do, I was going to get the guys do some recon anyway. If it’s just a small group of Cleaners, we may not necessarily need to worry about anything except eliminating the threat.”
“I’ll assist in these efforts in any way that I can,” Ifeya said. “Scrying, spells, whatever you need—just name it. I doubt there’ll be more than five of them lurking in the city. We know that the Cleaners like to keep their numbers low.”
“Right. They’re like smaller wolf packs, and possibly even more lethal,” Julien replied. “We also know that hunters don’t usually travel in large groups. Best case scenario, we could just be dealing with a single cell in a larger organization. The only problem I foresee is future retaliation, but even then, it’s highly unlikely. Still, given their notoriety and our lack of information, it’s best to be cautious.”
Elijah turned to look at his mate, who still didn’t seem to be completely listening to their conversation. In fact, the thousand-yard stare in his eyes was still there. He had been quiet, seemingly curling in on himself more and more.
“Bennett,” Elijah said, trying to catch his mate’s attention.
The warlock didn’t budge.
“Bennett,” Elijah repeated.
Ifeya looked up at Elijah’s mate. “Dear heart. Look at me.”
Her voice echoed, tinged with magic.
Bennett turned his head up to look at her.
“I just want you to know that none of this is your fault, Bennett,” Ifeya said softly, her voice still echoing. “Please remember that.”
Bennett didn’t respond at first. He simply nodded. Elijah noticed the slightest bob of Bennett’s throat as he swallowed down whatever emotions or words lingering in his head at that moment, and it made Elijah’s chest hurt. A strange clenching sensation wrapped itself around Elijah’s heart. He wanted to reach out to his mate, but he couldn’t right now.
It looked as though Bennett was shutting himself away. And judging from the way there was light shining from Bennett’s fingertips, and spreading through the table, his magic was going haywire again.
Elijah was about to try and calm Bennett down, when Ifeya moved forward first.
“Dear heart,” Ifeya called out, placing a hand on Bennett’s hand and startling the young warlock. In an instant, his hands started to dim back down to normal, and the table, thankfully, remained undamaged. “Your mate was calling out to you,” she said.
Bennett nodded, and then turned to look toward Elijah. “I’m sorry,” came the soft, raspy-voiced reply.
“No, you have nothing to apologize for,” Elijah said. “Like Miss Ifi said, none of this is your fault. I can only imagine how you feel right now.”
Ifeya nodded.
Bennett shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s true,” he said after a few moments of silence, his lips parting and closing as he tried to find the right words. “You should blame me for this. I brought this on all of you.”
“That’s not true at all,” Ifeya replied, her voice no longer echoing. “You’re one of my children, Bennett. You’ve been my child ever since the day you set foot in our home. In our house, we protect each other. And as your mother, I have failed you. I wanted to wait until you felt better to tell everyone that you’re a part of our house—our family. I’m sorry, Bennett.”
The Witch Mother bowed her head. “I can only mourn my mistake just as much as I can mourn the loss of my daughters, but I cannot dwell on that right now,” Ifeya said softly. “Not when I have to protect my children who are still living.”
“Why are you guys bending over backwards for me?” Bennett asked. He looked around the room. “I’m…no one. I actively made your lives worse by being Marcel’s pet. My presence here has been a net negative since you took me in. Now, cleaners are here because of me, and two witches are dead. You should all despise me.”
“If we looked at everyone here in positives and negatives, then we wouldn’t have become as strong as we are now,” Julien replied as he leaned forward, looking Bennett right in the eye. “Are you familiar with the Gestalt principles of psychology, Bennett?”
Bennett shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“The whole is greater than the sum of its parts,” Julien explained. “It’s a group of principles that can basically be summarized into that adage. People view things not by each and every part of a group, but the collective as a whole. The Gestalt principle is usually applied to ideas relating to design, but it works just as well for this metaphor.”
“I don’t get what you mean,” Bennett said.
“Simply put, you are part of this collective, whether you like it or not. You’re one of us, Bennett, and not just because you’re Elijah’s mate. You’re also one of Ifeya’s children. We took you in. We knew the risks and dangers, and we still did so, anyway. Instead of seeing yourself as other, maybe it’s for the best that we say now, officially, that you are very much one of us.”
Sometimes, Elijah forgot how smart Julien actually was. There was a reason this building they were in was named after him, after all, and why so many people decided to follow him. The fact that Elijah had been good friends with the man for so long, and knew just how clueless he had been in his personal life, sometimes colored the way Elijah looked at his long-time friend.
But there were times, just like these, when Elijah remembered—and it made him appreciate the fact that he had someone who could think as deeply as Julien could, and could convey his thoughts as perfectly as the coven leader often did.
The only thing that Elijah could do at this moment was nod his head, firmly, in agreement to what Julien had said.
Bennett merely looked up at the group before him, and parted his lips as if to speak, but instead, simply sighed and nodded his head. “Okay,” Bennett finally said. “But for the record I don’t think I should stick around. It might be dangerous for all of you if I stay here, and if I go, then it’ll keep you all safe. Maybe I should still just go until this all blows over, and you can figure out if you want to keep me then.”
Elijah crossed his arms and leaned back against his chair. He didn’t feel right knowing that his mate thought about his presence as being a burden to the people around him. It didn’t sit right that Bennett considered himself a nuisance.
He wasn’t.
Certainly not to Elijah.
“I agree,” Julien replied. “But more for your sake and safety rather than ours. It might be a good idea for us to explore the idea of you finding a safe house while all of this blows over and we thoroughly push the threat out of our city. And for what it’s worth, you’re not any trouble. Like I said, you’re one of us.”
“If we’re talking safe houses, though, I might have an idea,” Holden said, awkwardly raising a hand before looking around, and quickly putting his arm down. He looked like a schoolboy who was waiting to be acknowledged by the teacher and the class, and it actually made Elijah grin. There was an innocent quality to Holden, which surprised Elijah considering his brother was a monster.
When peopl
e looked at Holden, he cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “There are some luxury yachts in the marina, right? I remember because I visited the docks, where I last heard Marcel was, and saw that the abandoned part of the docks was close to the marina. I’d heard from some of the homeless gents there that recently the area had been acquired by a private company. I figured that company would be you guys.”
Julien nodded. “That guess would be correct.”
Holden looked up at Julien, and then at Elijah and Bennett. “Well, if the coven has a boat…it might be a good idea to sail out into the open water for a little while, and come back when things are settled,” Holden said. “Nothing is safer than being constantly on the move, and if not that, then being out in open water will keep people from just coming to get you.”
Julien blinked. “That’s a bit out there, don’t you think? Usually a safe house would just be an apartment farther out into the countryside, or deep in a different city.”
“A bit is being kind,” Elijah said. “It’s definitely very out there that it’s a little ridiculous, as far as plans go.”
“Well, yes,” Holden said, nodding. “But it could be crazy enough to work. If it’s just you and Bennett on the boat, or a small, handpicked crew to help out at most—you could also always dock and buy supplies when you refuel, and then come back out of hiding when things are safer.”
“Additionally, the Cleaners will have a harder time trying to get to you if you’re not in the city,” Vadim chimed in. “As far as plans go, it’s not the worst. It isn’t the first thing I would come up with, for sure. It’s…a creative solution, so to speak.”
“But I have to admit, it’s way more accessible than getting on a plane and then moving halfway across the world, that’s for sure,” Eos mused under his breath, turning to look at Julien. “Which I’m sure you were already thinking of.”
“That tends to be one of the first thoughts people would have when thinking of keeping people safe, yes,” Julien replied, smiling at his mate. “In addition to living undercover and changing identities, usually.”