Chapter 6 Home Sweet Home
Home Sweet Home
Ilicked the melting drop of ice cream from the cone before it hit my hand, my other hand on the wheel and the windows rolled all the way down.
That kid was on to something.
I’d officially run out of leads in Noctis.
The other two witch apothecaries had been dead ends, so my next stop was to go back to Cindralis and start looking up her family.
I’d found the address of her parents’ house easily enough.
That generation of Magiks still thought online phone books were a good thing, not knowing they should keep that kind of personal information private.
It was a long drive, which gave me plenty of time to think on the way and organize my thoughts.
I re-listened to the few conversations I’d recorded and made a basic timeline.
Five years ago, Sage, a witch omega with some heart problems, was a hard-working double-major at Umbris U with an elf boyfriend and merfolk best friend. One night, at her part-time job at the Sable Mansion, she spilled a little blood, and after that, she was gone in a puff of smoke.
A team of vampires in uniforms came to clean out her apartment, and Sage withdrew from school, a few months shy of graduation.
After that, Sage or another person went to great lengths to scrub the internet of her presence, and then both her boyfriend and best friend died by what I would say are suspicious circumstances.
For nearly five years, there didn’t seem to be any evidence that she was still even alive herself, until she showed up at a witch’s apothecary a few days ago injured, looking for safe passage out of Noctis.
There, she’d been put in touch with Morgana Vale, noted Magik ferryman for those needing to hide.
My nemesis, if I dared claim one.
Finally, a day and a half ago, the Premier of Noctis hired me to find her, claiming she’d stolen something valuable. But he wouldn’t tell me what she’d stolen or how she’d stolen it, only that he wanted me to deliver Sage—unharmed and untouched—to him so he could retrieve it from her personally.
Those were the facts as I had them.
Now for the conjectures.
Whether it was someone else’s doing or her own, she’d been in hiding for the past five years.
And since she wasn’t wealthy, that meant someone else was footing the bill for her basic needs.
But it wouldn’t have been out of the goodness of their heart, so she was likely providing them with some sort of service.
She was also covered in scars that looked like bite marks she hadn’t had before she’d disappeared, which meant she’d been attacked at some point.
I began to growl, and with no one around, let it run its course before taking a bite of my cone and continuing with my train of thought.
Okay, so after five years of that, she escaped with an item of great importance to Premier Corvane. She had to have been connected to him somehow, either personally or through a mutual acquaintance, for her to have gotten close enough to steal something.
And what was the item? I sincerely doubted it was the cat. It had to be small enough you wouldn’t necessarily notice it on her since she had shown up at the apothecary without any large items.
Unless she’d stashed it somewhere.
Corvane had said the nature of the item wasn’t important, but it could help me get an idea of what her next move would be. If it was just a piece of jewelry, she might be selling it soon, and there were buyers in almost all the city-states.
But if it was something powerful, something that would give the item’s new owner leverage over the vampire Premier, she might be headed to Ignareth.
I’d always told myself I’d never set foot in that wretched hell ever again, and had contacts that could do my work for me if my bounties were hiding out there. But for this case, I’d make an exception.
I made a quick voice note on my phone to check if there were any small Corvane family artifacts of significance, and to also call that cardiologist in Elmaris.
Six days to go, but at least I was on the right track.
Well, I was on a track.
The highway wasn’t too busy, and my gaze strayed from the road to the countryside.
The neutral lands—large swaths of forests, fields, farms, and nothing exciting, barely governed by the city-states. They offered freedom, but at a cost. There was no one to call if things got rough. Not even the seraphim would help if you got in trouble out here.
It was almost noon, but my schedule was all messed up from my previous job and then my short stay in Noctis. I was wired from lack of sleep and on edge from the rut, and I’d had way too much caffeine just to make sure I made it through this drive alive.
At least I’d be rolling back in to Cindralis in the evening, meaning I could get some take-out, go to bed, and start fresh tomorrow morning.
* * *
I’d picked up another round of suppressant since my dick hadn’t gotten the message that Sage wasn’t an option for us, then got some fried noodles for dinner, pulling up to my house just as the sun was setting.
Cindralis was about a fifth of the size of Noctis and lacked a lot of the big city amenities and opportunities that attracted other Magiks. But I’d always found comfort in its artsy charm.
Nestled in forested hills with streams criss-crossing their way through all the neighborhoods, most of the homes were single-family thatched-roof cottages with big gardens filled to the brim with herbs and flowers.
I paid someone to maintain mine since I didn’t want to be the demon neighbor driving down property values, but I longed for a future where I was here for more than a few days at a time and could do it myself.
My mom had taught me how to take care of plants before she’d died, and I always felt closer to her when my hands were covered in dirt.
After opening the windows to get some fresh air, I plopped down on my couch and turned on the TV, peeling back the plastic cover of my take-out container and breaking apart my chopsticks before flipping through the channels, trying to find something worth watching for the five minutes it would take me to scarf this down.
Reality show… sitcom… movie from thirty years ago… reality show…
I paused when a familiar face popped up in a news segment.
Alaric Corvane, son of Premier Victor Corvane and his wife Accalia, was officially declared his heir in a ceremony at Sanguiel’s Temple in Noctis last night.
The camera cut to an interview with the couple, the Premier’s arm wrapped tightly around his wife’s shoulders, the infant son in question in her arms.
I feel truly blessed to have such a strong, healthy child, and I thank Accalia every day for being the best wife and mother a man could ask for.
I paused the TV, squinting at the screen when I noticed the Premier had a light glamour on. Damn, too bad I couldn’t see him in person to check what he looked like underneath; it was impossible to tell through cameras.
It was a rare demon gift to be able to see through glamours, but it was another handy skill that made me very good at my job.
What reason would Premier Corvane have to glamour himself, though?
I didn’t pay that much attention to Lundarian politics or high society, but even I knew his good looks were well documented.
In fact, from the bit I’d gleaned off gossip magazines while waiting in line at the grocery store, he’d been quite the playboy until his marriage a few years ago.
His wife, an alpha and cousin to the werewolf Premier, was very beautiful.
Definitely the type to meet the “sophisticated” standards of Noctis.
I had still been surprised when it was announced, though.
Inter-Magik relationships weren’t uncommon in the slightest, but there was no such thing as mixed children—they took after one parent or the other, with alpha genes being dominant.
So for two alpha parents like them, it was a fifty-fifty chance whether their offspring would be vamps or werewolves, and it seemed strange the Premier would risk a marriage that could result in a werewolf heir.
Ah well, that part of his life was at least none of my business. I just wanted to know how he knew Sage, but apparently, he wanted me to figure that out myself.
I took another bite of my noodles as the anchor continued.
In other news, tonight marks the fourth consecutive week of open conflict between the Oniguro and Carvassi syndicates in the demon city-state of Ignareth. Premier Asmodiel Hellmora spoke at a news conference today, ensuring efforts were being made to…
I shook my head in disgust, turning off the TV. Cindralis may have been a little sleepy, but I’d take that any day over the kraken shit happening in Ignareth.
Ignareth was, on paper, led by Premier Asmodiel Hellmora.
Unofficially, and known to anyone who had an ounce of common sense, the demon city-state was actually run by three different crime families—the Carvassis, the Dragoviches, and the Oniguros.
The average Magik visiting Ignareth was relatively safe from their activities. But they didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire of their turf wars, and that was the kind of kraken shit I had left behind.
I finished my noodles and then took a shower, happy to finally be home.
Even if it was temporary.
* * *
The sound of chanting woke me up.
I sat up, blinking, until more sounds came from somewhere in my house.
“Hello?” I called out.
There was no answer.
I slowly got out of bed, finding a sleek black cat sitting in the hall and looking at me with glowing green eyes.
I lifted an eyebrow, trying to read its signature, but it seemed like it was just a cat. It definitely wasn’t a familiar, at least. “Can I help you?”
It got up and turned around, trotting down the hall with its tail straight up towards the sound of soft whispers.
Okay, I guess I’m following this cat, then.
We went down the hall and I stopped dead in my tracks.
Sage stood in front of my stove.
“Sage? Sage Hexwood?”