Chapter 25 Cassius #2
He sneered. “Back off, Immortal.”
When I only stared at him, he pushed harder into me and seethed, “If you push me, I swear to fuck, I’ll make you.”
“How? Do you intend to use your lover against me again to drain me?”
“That’s not what happened,” he said, flinching, his murderous mask slipping. “His involvement was an accident.”
“I understand. But it would not be an accident this time.”
“I don’t intend to do that at all.”
“But you do intend to commit murder.”
Realization flashed in his eyes. “You’ve been watching me for a while tonight.”
“It’s a good thing I have, because you clearly need somebody to rein you in.”
He scoffed. “The fuck I do.”
“You cannot do this, Sylas.”
“Not only can I, but I must.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” He shoved himself off me. “Just get gone. Stay out of this. Stay away from me.”
“I can’t do any of that.”
He tugged at his hair and spun around. “You are an infuriating bastard. Do you know that?”
“It may have been stated once or twice by others.”
He sucked in a breath. “You stay, you help. Or you watch. There is no option that includes you stopping what needs to happen inside that bar.”
“And what supposedly needs to happen?”
“They need to die. Simple as that.”
“Delivering death is never simple.”
“It is when they’re members of Puritas.”
I stilled at his revelation.
His awful revelation.
“What are you talking about? How can that be? Puritas has disappeared without a trace. It occurred when Corvin Morvain fell that day right after the Severance. If they had returned, it would be all over the place. The Guardian Movement would know. Alerts would be sent out. Perhaps even Blackline Protocol would be activated, sending a warning across the entire supernatural world for all hybrid beings to be on alert and even sequester themselves away.”
“They are rising, not yet risen again.” He gestured at the establishment. “Those in there are an early contingent. I need to stomp it out now before they spread like the cockroaches they are. If I don’t—”
“It will be a direct threat to Velra and Lazriel. That’s why you are doing this in secret.
Even if they are not immediately physically harmed, them knowing of this would likely trigger their deep trauma regarding Puritas.
Especially Velra.” I grimaced, an ache within hurting awfully.
“And she has finally come into herself, come so very far.”
“I know,” he said, scrubbing his hand over his face.
“I know. These assholes are fanatics, they can’t be reasoned with, intel can’t be extracted from them either as they are impervious to torture and even magical coercion.
The only viable option here is to end them.
Here and now. Wipe them out.” He steadied himself and ground out.
“With or without your approval, I will take their lives.”
His words sparked a memory from several months ago.
I breached the warded estate of Cornelius Martel, barely breaking my pace at all, my wings outstretched and moving almost violently as I carried the heathen, Sorin Tenebris, in my unrelenting hold, the evil spawn now unconscious due to an overwrought beating at my hands.
I wouldn’t usually be so aggressive, especially not to take down a lesser being. But he had warranted such a response.
He'd deserved it.
Several times over.
For what he’d done to Velra.
How he’d harmed her.
That his ruthless hunting of her had almost led her to give into death.
I reached the doors to the mansion, then tossed him through them, his body hitting the floor with a satisfying thud.
I was aware of Cornelius Martel and Kai Hunter emerging and witnessing it.
But I cared not about them.
Especially when I felt her in the next moment.
And then she was descending the stairs in all her dark glory and absolute beauty, giving rise to sentiment and sensations in me that both unsettled and intrigued me.
She looked between me panting with fury and her unconscious beaten brother at my feet.
“Cassius,” she breathed at me, the way she uttered my name almost sending me into a tailspin. My goodness.
I swallowed hard and somehow managed to respond steadily, “As promised, little shadow.”
I’d made a vow to her that I would deal with her poor excuse for an older brother and ensure she never had to worry about him and what he might do to her again.
“How did you… I mean… holy hell.”
“You need not fear his foolish and despicable actions anymore.”
“Thank you,” she uttered, overcome.
“What is the meaning of this?” Cornelius boomed, stalking up to me. “There is due process to consider in such matters.”
“Something the Guardian Movement staunchly enforces. Yet I know better where you’re concerned.
You excel at coloring outside the lines.
Dealing with this heathen falls within those parameters.
Not only is he dangerous, he is deeply connected to even more dangerous individuals.
We need to cut out the rot. We begin with him. ”
“Cassius—” he started to protest.
“If he is not imprisoned in The Void by nightfall, I will take his life.”
I blinked back to the immediate moment to find Sylas studying me, trying to determine where my thoughts had traveled to just now.
I hadn’t taken Sorin’s life, as Cornelius had done what I’d asked.
However, unbeknown to any of them, I had taken the lives of the four Puritas members who’d been with him when I’d decimated my way into the home he’d been staying in, those who’d tried to protect him because he was a high-ranking member of that organization.
I was a Celestial being, not holy or morally righteous.
And I suppose that day I had proven that.
In all the worst and most despicable ways.
It had weighed on me for some time after committing those acts.
Even though the weight of stealing lives away had been a great deal to bear, the logic of the acts themselves had been sound. More than that, it had been a necessary evil.
Sometimes despicable action was required and nothing less would suffice.
It was a brutal, reprehensible fact that those heathens had needed to perish that day.
They were beyond redemption, far beyond any sort of salvation.
Nothing but a stain on this world.
And more personally, both a stain and a horrific threat to her.
One I would not allow.
Just as I wouldn’t this day either.
“I will follow your lead.”
Sylas looked more than a little startled. “You’ll… what?”
I laid my hand on his shoulder and he flinched, not sure what to make of it.
“Have you taken a life before?”
“Why does that matter?”
“You have then.” I studied him, trying to use what Velra had been teaching me since I’d spent the night in her room a couple of days ago.
“And it still hurts you.” He tried to pull away, but I held fast. I felt something within…
within him. Similar to when I’d been able to see into Velra the day she’d lay dying—before the bond had been formed between us.
It was a gift I could rarely summon on command and honestly one I’d assumed I’d lost when I’d become a Fallen.
It had never been properly explained to me, but it was akin to judging a soul for either salvation or damnation.
“You didn’t mean to… it was an accident.
” A gasp escaped me. “Many… there were so many… and—”
He forcibly jerked away with a blast of magic that was so potent it had us both stumbling back.
“How are you burying all of that?”
“It’s called high-level compartmentalization.”
“It is incredibly taxing, especially to maintain. Especially when you are seriously ill. It would require magic to hold so powerfully.”
“Whatever you think you saw, forget it. It’s not your concern.”
“It certainly is when you believe you can carry out another massacre here and now while that is weighing on you. Beyond that… incident, you have taken lives before, but despite leading people to believe that you are judge, punisher, and executioner, those were kill-or-be-killed situations. You do not do well with killing. It hurts you. How do you expect to be able to do so now—and with many?”
“Because I need to. Simple as that.”
It was so very far from being simple.
However, I knew what I needed to do.
“As you wish. You believe you can do this, then I will follow your lead as already offered.”
“If this is some kind of manipulation, you should know better than to think the likes of me would ever—”
“I am well aware of your calculated thinking and your ability to see beyond the surface level of that which others convey to you. I am offering because our agendas directly align. I want Velra and Lazriel safe and unencumbered by this unsavory revelation as well.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Lazriel too?”
“Yes.”
“He fed on you.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Ah, that’s the root of why you’re now concerned for his wellbeing.”
I shifted my weight, agitated that the action conveyed too much in itself.
“He is an intriguing specimen.”
“Wow,” he uttered, his eyebrow shooting up. “Very telling phrasing there, Cassius.”
I grunted and gestured at the establishment. “Let us commence before they are alerted to our presence.”
It wasn’t actually a possibility.
He was heavily cloaked, so much so that only a Celestial being could see through it.
And I was in what Ariana had come to term stealth mode.
Fortunately, he allowed me the dignity of that falsity, and gave a nod. “Let’s.”
The door blew open under the force of Sylas’ magic.
Outwardly, nothing seemed amiss, as I was casting an illusion spell to safeguard us.
It would also serve to keep this situation from Velra—as it unfortunately needed to be for the time being—without muting the Soul Brand on my end again.
I wouldn’t do that to her, not after she’d shown me just how much it had hurt her.
And I also liked having it open to her again.
It wasn’t just a physical relief from the toll holding that barrier in place had taken on me, it was…
sentimental. I enjoyed her having that access and insight into me.
More than I’d ever imagined that I would.
I swiftly evaluated the situation.
Twenty beings inside, including those tending bar and engaging in the discussion with the other members who were gathered around a set of worn wooden tables that had been pushed together so they could convene more closely.
I registered vampires, wolves, sorcerers, Dark Fae, even Light Fae beings all part of this rising Puritas contingent.
They were gesturing at magically-generated screens hovering above them that were depicting an image of Warlow Boyd with his throat slit, the Crossborn logo with a bloodied X through it, unidentified hybrids torn apart in a clear fantasy of theirs with a list of hybrid combinations beside the heap of bodies.
And then there was an image of Lazriel marked as a chief target, their notes on it indicating they wished to make a public example out of executing him—a born hybrid and member of Crossborn.
Sylas caught my eye and I saw his utterly sickened expression mirroring my own.
He started forward, so much power rolling off him that it alerted the members to our presence.
He was moments away from striking when I shoved him back with my Celestial strength, sending him careening into a wall twenty feet away with enough power to significantly wind him and prevent him from being able to call his magic.
And then I turned on the Puritas heathens.
Yells of indignation, roars to leave this place, and various threats came my way.
They were just noise to me.
Some called their power, others went to make a physical move against me.
But they were all too late.
They knew not what they were up against.
There would be no victory for them this night.
Only damnation.
I thrust a shield in front of Sylas to protect his eyesight and his being from any unintended blowback of what I was about to do.
It knocked him back again and bought me time to do what was necessary.
I coiled my power, calling specifically on my Celestial Light only.
Most knew it to be a special, almost holy-like power of healing.
But it could also be used for another purpose.
By one touched by darkness.
Just. Like. Me.
When I’d gathered enough, I thrust my palms forward, blindingly bright white magic streaming forth in a tidal wave of a rush, tearing into the twenty despicable beings, encompassing them wholly.
The walls trembled with their shrieks.
With the furor of my power.
As it burrowed into them.
As it burned them alive where they stood.
As it utterly destroyed them.
Clothes and flesh melted.
Bones crumbled to ash.
Eyeballs liquefied.
Hair became cinders.
Mere moments passed and then blood, bone, and flesh became nothing but ash.
And then even that was annihilated.
Black scorch marks on the ground were all that remained.
“Fuck. Me.”
I swung my head at the sound of Sylas’ voice.
I removed my shield and told him, “It’s done. Head back. I’ll wipe any trace of you and I being here. And their presence as well.”
“Cassius—”
“I believe you’re late for dinner.” I gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Kindly tell Velra that I send my regards and note that I’ll call her later tonight.”
I swept my magic around him and teleported him away, sending him straight to his dorm room to give him some time alone to decompress before he had to face dinner.
I turned back to the scene.
The massacre.
My massacre.
They’d deserved far more punishment than that of a quick death.
But I’d had to act quickly in order to prevent Sylas from doing so.
He wasn’t a killer.
As dark as he was and as ruthless as he could be, he hated been driven toward the fatal route. It was a line he deplored having to cross. Considering who and what he was, that was beyond admirable, and absolutely something to be safeguarded.
Besides, he was carrying enough as it was.
No need to add this to it.
This was mine to take on. And I would carry it well.
It protected them all.
It had wiped filth from the face of the earth.
It had been justified.
I’d done what was necessary for us all.
End of sordid story.