Chapter 52 Alaric
Alaric
Dad’s strident voice rose above the tinkle of polite laughter. Several mages grinned when he talked about the latest demon attack in a small coastal town. Ten seal shifters and several selkies had perished when demons struck at a bonding celebration.
I’d seen videos of the carnage posted on social media: the magical community was in an uproar about the escalating attacks, but my father seemed unconcerned.
As usual.
Did he not worry that his position as leader of the Supernatural Council would soon become untenable?
There was a great deal of muttering online about the disparity between responses to demon attacks against lesser magicals and those against mages and witches. Online forums were busy fanning the flames, pitting the more powerful magicals against the lesser magicals.
With Dad preoccupied talking to his minions, I pulled my phone out and checked the latest headlines.
There’d been a large demonstration organized for this evening. From what Arron had told me, several thousand lesser magicals had taken to the streets in several of the larger cities, including Washington and New York, to appeal for greater protections against demon attacks.
Even the humans were taking notice; demons didn’t differentiate between humans and magicals. They were equal-opportunity predators.
Arron had sent me a link to a video posted on a forum. The video showed mage special-ops personnel with masks and weapons herding protesters into an alley before hitting them hard with attack spells.
The camera footage jerked as the person filming ran from the mages before cutting out. There were already thousands of comments below the video. A few applauded the heavy-handed response to what was clearly a peaceful demonstration, but most were critical.
I closed the video and swiped to a popular news site but found nothing about the incident. Just a fluff report on how my father was working hard to keep the magical community safe.
I scoffed to myself, only to see Dad watching me from a distance. He didn’t look happy, and his not-so-subtle nod in Petronella’s direction told me I was supposed to be wooing her.
Whatever that meant.
Was he suggesting I fuck the bitch?
Not gonna happen.
“You should be more careful, Alaric.” Rink’s slimy voice grated on my last nerve. He reminded me of a viper, always slithering around, hiding in dark corners, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
“I could say the same about you,” I replied with a smirk. “One day, my father will decide he doesn’t need you any longer, and then…” I let my voice trail off.
But Rink just smiled. “I know my place, boy. Can you say the same?”
Goddess, I hated him. But I returned his smile. “I’m the son and heir, whereas you’re the lackey hanging on to my father’s coattails. I’d say that puts me in a stronger position.”
My nemesis’s smile tightened. He didn’t like being reminded of his lowborn position. The bastard son of a witch who whored herself out for money and drugs. Dad had found him chewing a dead rat in an alleyway and seen his potential. Or so I’d been told.
I watched Rink scuttle away like the cockroach he was before wandering over to the wet bar for another drink. A hand on my shoulder and the waft of heavy perfume told me Petronella had given up waiting for me to make a move.
“You’re ignoring me, Alaric,” she whined.
“I have a headache.” The sooner I could leave, the better.
“Why don’t we go for a stroll in the garden? That might help.” I brushed her hand away and lifted my glass to my lips. Was she dumb? It was minus five outside, and the dress she wore barely covered anything.
“In the mood for frostbite?”
She smirked. “I figured you could keep me warm.” Pink-tipped fingers trailed down my chest, and I had to fight hard not to shudder with disgust.
“Maybe some other time,” I replied dismissively. One more hour, and then I would go check on my mother. By then, Dad would be drunk enough not to notice if I sneaked downstairs.
Thank the goddess Brianna wasn’t here this weekend. She’d disappeared up north on coven business, according to my father. What that business was, I didn’t bother asking.
Petronella took my arm and began recounting a boring as fuck story about her equally insipid friends while I pretended to listen. As she prattled on, I watched my father move around the room, networking and pretending he cared about anyone but himself.
Outside, thunder rumbled and jagged lightning lit up the garden. As the storm grew louder, my father glanced in my direction, and when one particularly vicious thunder crack rattled the windows so hard everyone gasped, he glared.
The butler shuffled in a few minutes later and coughed. “Coffee and liqueurs are being served in the drawing room, sir.”
Everyone trailed out, including Petronella, who’d given up trying to engage with me.
Once the room cleared, my father stormed over and slammed me against the wall.
A painting wobbled precariously, and a priceless Chinese vase crashed to the floor.
Rink hovered in the doorway, observing with a faint smirk.
“Just this once, Alaric, could you act like my fucking son?”
“I’m not convinced I am your son, Father.” If only that were true. I’d checked our DNA several years ago, praying he wasn’t my sperm donor, only to be disappointed.
“How dare you!” Ice crystals formed in the air around us as his magic exploded outward, reacting to his anger. But I wafted them away. His magic couldn’t hurt me. Not anymore.
I shoved him back, enjoying the way his eyes flared in surprise.
“I’m leaving. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Father.
” My patience was officially exhausted. The sooner I got back to campus, the better.
I had a witch I wanted to see. Knowing Montgomery had been inside her head still worried me, but Dad had said nothing, so I had to assume whatever Montgomery had found, it didn’t relate to me or the vampire.
“Not yet, Alaric. Not unless you want your mother to have a very unpleasant night.”
That fucking bastard. Of course he would use my mother against me.
“You lay one more finger on her, and I’ll cook you alive!”
“I promise I won’t touch her if you come with me. There’s something we need to discuss.” His smug smile had klaxons going off in my head, but I swallowed my trepidation and followed him into his study. The minute I entered, the door slammed shut behind me, and when I spun around, Rink stood there.
He pulled a small potion from his pocket, his grin triumphant.
“What the—”
With a flick of his wrist, he froze me. I fought back, but I couldn’t stop him from forcing the potion down my throat.
The vile liquid tasted of blood and death. Dark magic.
“What have you done?” I clutched my throat and heaved as the magic burned like fire in my chest before sinking into my bones.
“A little insurance policy, Alaric,” Dad said, “since you have been horribly uncooperative of late. Rink’s been working on some new potions for me. I plan to roll them out to the highest bidder soon. We’ve been most pleased with the results of our experiments so far.”
Panic flooded my system with adrenaline, but the paralysis spell still held me trapped, no matter how hard I struggled.
“The paralysis spell will ease shortly, and when it does, you’ll forget everything that happened here, head back to campus, and await further instructions.”
I dreaded to think what those instructions might be.