Chapter Twenty
Neith
It makes me wonder why they don’t just use magic, but then again, The Owner seems like the kind of fucker who would want to exert his power over those below him by making them do things like cleaning.
Trip strides to the very back of the huge room and pushes a heavy set of shelves off to the side.
He then presses something on the wood paneling behind, because of course, even The Owners' cleaning closets have wood paneling, and then I watch in kind of impressed awe as it opens up to reveal a giant and very sterile room.
Unlike the rest of the mansion, this room is completely white. The floor, the ceiling, the walls, everywhere is white.
Except for the giant gold and red sigil painted on the wall opposite the door, it’s huge, and it’s pulsating with magic.
“Whoa,” Ransom mutters as he studies it. “Where the fuck did he get magic like this?”
Trip shrugs, “I have no fucking idea. I don’t even know how we’re going to break it.”
“Blast a fuck ton of magic at it,” Ransom suggets.
River looks at him, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Even I can feel how strong it is.”
Ransom winces slightly, “It’s not the best idea, but we don’t have the time to come at this with finesse, it’s gearing up to move the building. I can feel it. If the building gets moved, we lose any evidence that we have.”
“We can’t risk it. You guys have gotten closer to shutting this place down than anyone ever has before,” Trip says. His expression darkens, “I will not be held prisoner again.”
“No, you won't,” I reply.
Ransom looks at River and me, “It’s going to take all of us, and even then, I’m not entirely sure we can break it. Give it as much as possible, but don’t drain yourselves, we’ve still got to fight our way out of here.”
I nod. Makes sense.
“On the count of three,” River says, and I feel his magic start to gather.
I do the same, shifting so that I can send more magic into the seal to break it.
“Holy shit,” Trip gapes as he watches us both, in shock.
Then Ransom’s power is unleashed. It’s not calm or sedate, Ransom’s magic never is, but there’s a different undertone to it now that I’m only just beginning to pick up.
It’s violent, deadly, and wild.
It’s more.
“One, two,” River starts, and then finishes with “three.”
We all release our magic in a steady stream toward the seal, and I immediately feel it try to resist.
We’re making progress, but not enough. We need to break the seal quickly before it can move the building.
I have no idea if they’ve even managed to get to The Owner yet or locate the files.
I also have no idea if it would take us with it when it moved or if it would take those that we’ve removed from it.
Maybe there’s some kind of spell tying them to the building, so if it disappears, they do too?
There’s no way that I’m letting this building take Trip, it’s obvious that he means a lot to Rana, and he’s been through hell, that’s pretty fucking clear.
We cannot risk this building moving.
I put more power into it, I’m not using everything, if I did, then I wouldn’t be still standing if it finally breaks, and I will not put the others at risk because they have the added complication of getting a passed-out me out of the building as well as keeping themselves safe.
And then it suddenly gets easier. I keep the blast aimed at the sigil as I quickly glance over at the source of the new power stream. Sure enough, it’s Trip.
He shouldn’t be able to do what he’s doing, but then again, neither should I, or Ransom, or hell, even River.
His gaze darts to mine, filled with fear and unease. I grin, flapping my giant wings and flashing my fangs at him for good measure. I know he’s worried about revealing this part of himself to us, but I’m not normal, and that’s pretty fucking obvious.
He clearly understands what I’m doing because determination fills his gaze, and the power level increases substantially.
“Fucking hell,” River mutters, sounding impressed.
The new power surge is exactly what we needed to succeed, and not only does the magic of the seal snap, but the wall explodes as well and sends us all flying backward.
“Is everyone okay?” Ransom calls out once the dust settles.
“All good,” I grin, as I stand up and shake off the debris that covers me.
“Why are you grinning right now?” Trip asks, with a slight smile.
My smile widens, “I love explosions.”
River pulls me under his arm and kisses my head quickly before Ransom pulls me into his arms and kisses me fiercely.
“So fucking hot,” he mutters before stepping back again.
Trip chuckles, “You’re all just as crazy as each other.”
River nods and smiles happily, “Yep. Wait until you meet the rest of us.”
Trip smiles, “Sounds pretty awesome to be fair.”
“Well, at least we haven’t scared you off,” I say, somewhat relieved.
“About what just happened,” Trip starts, worry in his gaze.
Ransom shakes his head and starts to walk past him, but pauses, clasping him on the shoulder as he does.
“I didn’t see a fucking thing, did you guys?” He asks us.
“Nope,” River grins at Trip’s shocked expression.
I shrug, “I mean, I saw a pretty explosion, but that’s it.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
Ransom’s expression turns deadly, “Let’s go find some more fuckers to kill.”
We don’t waste any more time as we head toward the sounds of fighting, clearing rooms, and securing people as we go.
We can’t kill them all.
Fortunately, Trip seems to understand that, and despite the torment that these fuckers have no doubt put him through, he shows a massive amount of restraint, as he secures them like we are, and doesn’t kill them.
He fights like a machine. With skill and accuracy that is incredibly impressive.
Ransom
The need for more bloodshed is searing through me as we finally make our way to the main part of the house.
We’ve cleared all the rooms that we have come across, and we didn’t find that many people.
As we step through the doors into what must be the arena where they sell the wolves, and other supernaturals, it’s clear why we didn’t come across that many.
They’re all in here.
There are bodies strewn across the floor, either secured or dead, and the fighting is still going strong. I don’t wait, I dive straight in. This is what I do. This is what I live for, and this is what feeds that dark, feral part of me.
I fucking love it.
Moving through the crowded room, my gaze immediately hones in on my family.
The members who are in here at least.
Within a fraction of a second, I’ve categorized any injuries that they have and if they need help.
Other than a few superficial injuries, they are all fine and faring incredibly well, as is expected.
Now that I know they’re safe, I hunt.
Stalking through the crowd, I take out as many as I can. We’ve got a good few still alive at this point, we don’t need many more of these disgusting excuses for life still alive. I did my research, I know which ones are the main players, and those ones I keep alive.
I’m aware that I need to be careful just how much of my other side I let out in front of everyone here, and in front of Neith.
I know she sees it in me, but I don’t want her to know just how deep the need for violence goes.
I’m terrified that she would be disgusted by me, or worse, fear me.
Neith is a violent little thing. I love that about her, but my violence is not normal even in the world of supernaturals, where violence is so much more common. I can’t risk it. She means too much to me.
My gaze catches on Trip as I crush the fist of someone who thought they could land a hit.
He’s special, far stronger than he should be, and I have never seen eyes like that on a supe, so he’s fucking rare.
The way he fights, brutal yet controlled, is a testament to the shit that he’s been through. He’s calm, calculated, and deadly.
It’s quite impressive, actually.
I’m glad I didn’t rip his throat out when he stood over Neith threateningly.
To be fair, the only reason why I didn’t was because River had an iron grip on me. I could have gotten through him, but that would have meant hurting him, and he’s my family, I would never do that.
A spear of magic comes flying toward me, making me focus again, and I slice through it with my sword, imbuing it with my magic, and already missing my magic-made swords, even though I only used them once.
It’s strange, but I can feel them, right there, waiting to be called on by me. That would probably give away more than I want it to though, so they’re going to have to stay where they are for now.
Magic stirs within me, dark and deadly, the other side of me, and for the first time, it demands to be fed. It’s not fed physically, I don’t actually eat anything, but it's fed through violence, bloodshed, and lives.
Ever since I fought with that supernatural in Luesidious, something has been different about it, it’s closer to the surface, more ready to be called on, and apparently hungry.
Really fucking hungry.
I have to admit that my thoughts have drifted back to that supernatural a lot since it happened. I really don’t like the fact that I left him in the middle of a battle. That’s not what I do, and it's fucking irritating that I didn’t get to finish what I started.
Not only that, but I find myself genuinely caring about what happened to him. I want to know if he’s okay, and if he’s not, does he need help? Is he dead?
The only way I can think of to find these answers is to try to find the imps. I know that they didn’t send me there, but they did send Neith, which means that they could send me back so I can see if he’s okay.
The Hunt.
That’s what he called them, a word that resonated within me for a reason that is entirely unknown to me.
I felt a kinship with him, and I don’t feel like that with many people. As a general rule, I try to avoid people as much as possible. My family is the exception of course. By that I mean the guys and Neith, not my blood family. I have no idea who they are.
The problem with going to see the imps is time. It’s always time, we seem to have too much to do in the time that we have. In a way, it’s a good thing, several members of my family, myself included, get bored with inaction, but in times like these, it’s not.
I’m hoping that we’re going to get a window of an hour or two where I can take one of the guys with me, and we can go and find the imps and get them to send us to Lewi again.
I’ll most likely end up taking River and Coen with me since they’re as restless and curious as I am.
The other thing that I don’t think has occurred to anyone else yet is that I’m not supposed to be able to breathe in Luesidious, and yet I definitely could, just like Neith was able to.
It’s yet another mystery to add to our ever-growing pile, and to be honest, I don’t really care about it as much as I care about knowing whether the Hunt got hold of him.
They were strong and determined, and I know that it would have been really bad if he were captured by them, and if they killed him, a growl of anger builds in my chest, then I have his death to avenge.
I need to focus.
I have been fighting while these thoughts have been circling my brain, but I really should be paying more attention, someone might surprise me.
Just as I think this, a different magic stirs, this is mine, but it’s completely new.
Before I can work it out, someone charges me, they’re sloppy, and I simply take a step back, raising my sword and getting ready to defend myself as I allow the more violent part of me to come closer to the surface.
He stops though, looking around like he can’t see me, even though I am still standing right in front of him. It’s then that I realize the sounds around me are sharper, more in focus, but there’s a dark edge to everything.
Stepping forward, the guy's eyes widen in shock, and I realize that somehow he genuinely couldn’t see me. All I can see when I glance over my shoulder though is a shadow.
Huh.
My sword pierces the heart of the guy as my focus remains on the shadow, and I turn to face it fully as the guy drops to the floor.
Testing my theory, I step toward it, and this time I feel as that new magic wraps around me and pulls me into the warm embrace of the shadow.
Well, that’s new.
I’m going to assume that it has something to do with the new magic that the Choosing gave us all. Although I can’t work out how being able to step into the shadows has anything to do with death, apart from the fact that I can kill a lot more stealthily from in the shadows.
Testing to see the scope of this new magic, I zone in on a shadow just across from me, and sure enough, my body seems to turn into shadow itself as I move across the floor and into the new shadow.
Fucking hell, this is awesome.
My smile is deadly as I realize the advantage that this gives me, especially the fact that no one can see me.
Still shrouded within shadows, I call on my swords made of magic and see if they gain the attention of anyone.
When no one looks at me, I know that they can’t see me, even with my swords glowing.
Let’s fucking do this.
I move within the shadows, becoming the shadow itself as I move from one pool of shadows to another, my swords moving with me. Although the feeling is new, it doesn’t feel wrong or uncomfortable. It’s like I’ve always been able to do it.
My swords slice through necks, taking heads, and I quickly realize that my new swords are more than just weapons. When I use them, they somehow manage to harness more of what fuels this darker part of my magic, and I’m soon satiated.
While I love using the shadows, I also do a lot of normal fighting as well, since I enjoy it, but the use of my shadows is definitely handy.
I can’t wait to tell the guys about them. Raiden is going to have a field day with this one.
Van
I’m fighting on the main floor, in the arena where the majority of The Owners’ men have gathered.
My magic isn’t behaving like it’s supposed to, or rather it’s not behaving like it usually does. I’m having to keep a stronger grip on it than I normally have to, and there’s something else mixed into it, something that isn’t usually there, but is undoubtedly mine.
I’m assuming that it’s the Choosing gifted magic, but whatever it is, it’s strong as fuck.
My gaze drifts to the door that I know Neith and the others will be coming through as soon as they’re done with the kidnapped supernaturals. I take a vamp's hand and pin him to the floor, breathing a sigh of relief as I see Neith and the others walking through the door.
They’re all okay.
There’s someone new with them though, and I’m assuming he’s a prisoner, judging from the look of him.