Chapter 25 Luciu
Suggested Listening: Night Falls by Dove Cameron
Igrip the steering wheel with both hands and stare straight ahead. It’s difficult to breathe with how tight the necktie is, but I refuse to mess with it after Gracie helped me fix it before leaving the house.
Seriously, my witch wife has the biggest set of balls on her. I’m torn between a masculine swoon and outright fear of what’s about to happen.
“Unclench or take a breath,” Puck says from the back seat of the car.
I eye the large, nondescript brick building with its shiny new windows. Almost every town with any sort of magical population has a branch office for the convocation. Their power and influence depend on the locals, but for the most part they are respected to some degree.
I’ve been following the drama between the convocation and the local coven for, well, my whole life. It’s contentious. The witchy circles obviously don’t want anyone sticking their noses in witch business. They would prefer it if the local communities existed under their thumb.
The North American covens are closely watched.
The Neilan Coven more than most, from what I can tell.
They are at the core of whatever tension is being fostered this side of the ocean.
It’s that contentious relationship that has caused the other communities to band together in support of the convocation.
Most of the other magical races have enough of a centralized government or ruling system that the convocation was easy enough to form. The assembly allows those governments to come together and mutually decide how to deal with matters that cross racial and cultural lines.
Witches have always been outliers by choosing to abstain from the convocation. They continue to assert that they answer to no one. Which the convocation doesn’t agree with, but it’s not like there is a main witch figurehead for them to take to task over this.
Each coven is essentially a country unto itself.
Getting witches as a collective whole to agree to anything with the convocation decades ago was an effort that involved a lot of blackmail and threats.
Ultimately, witches operate alongside the convocation.
We are still subject to the rules that span races, but we are not part of the convocation.
I’m not entirely sure how it works given that, as a warlock, we have no real voice. The other races see us as witches, while witches refuse to claim us. It’s a complicated and uncomfortable predicament.
“How long are they going to be in there?” I twist and glance back at the other car, where Ezra is waiting.
Vyslan, being an illegally summoned demon, has to wait at home.
It’s something he was highly displeased about, but trotting him out for protection would open the girls up to problems we don’t want.
The problem plate is very full. We’ll have to figure out how to lawfully get him rights this side of the dividing line, but that’s a problem for another day.
We decided to split the girls up. Gracie and Darius rode with us while Poppy and Briella rode with Ezra. Originally, just the girls were going to go in, but at the last moment Darius said it was important he tag along.
Puck sits with his arms spread across the back seat, looking as unbothered and cool as I wish I were. “As long as they need to be.”
When Gracie called a little meeting last night, I thought we might address some of the tension flying around the house between Ezra and Puck, mainly. Instead, her roommates were there,, and she announced we were going to make a move on the coven.
Have to hand it to her; that was an effective way to eradicate the tension and bring everyone together.
This is one fight I’m woefully underequipped to deal with. If things go sideways, I’m not going to be much help.
The coven headquarters are heavily guarded.
In large part, to the ancient elders living in a crypt-like apartment under the building.
I’m still magically bound by our agreement to say nothing about the work I did for them.
I can’t even make Gracie and the others aware of it.
If I even think about it, white-hot pain sears my gut, so I will have to hope that information isn’t important and that they don’t think I’m betraying them by keeping this secret.
The glass and chrome door leading into the pale brick building swings open suddenly with Gracie leading the charge, followed by a man with warm brown skin wearing a creamy-colored turban and a high-necked, long coat with trousers in a matching color.
He shifts a gauzy length of fabric draped over his chest.
“You’ve got to be…” Puck mutters. “Are you fucking serious?”
“W-who is that?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “That is Allu, one of Lord Krishna’s sons. A younger one.”
“Wait… You mean—?”
“Yes, the god Krishna. Fucking demi-gods.”
The smartly dressed man darts forward and opens the back door of the car ahead of Gracie. He gives her a charming smile.
I know I’m staring. I can’t help it.
I knew nothing at all about the Hindu pantheon prior to boarding school, but I learned a lot once I got there.
Not as much from my classmates, but just the social culture.
How you weren’t considered posh at all unless you had a Naga housekeeper that ran your life and treated you like an errant child.
And all Nagas have some sort of story to tell about that time their auntie or uncle had a run-in with one of Lord Krishna’s children.
Apparently, it’s a badge of honor to scold one.
A demi-god. I literally cannot imagine it.
Allu sinks into the passenger seat beside me and turns to give me a dazzling smile. He’s wearing the tiniest circular sunglasses perched on his nose that look ridiculous. But I’m not about to say a damn thing because I don’t have an ounce of his swagger.
He thrusts his hand across the car. “Allu, hello.”
I bob from side to side, not entirely sure what to do with myself or how to act in the presence of a demigod. “H-hello, Lord Allu.”
“Just Allu.” He takes my hand and squeezes it, giving me a wink. Charisma rolls off the man in waves, a testament to his divine parentage. “Pleased to meet you.”
Gracie leans forward. “Luc, you okay?”
I shake my head and finally clasp Allu’s hand a little tighter.
“Fuck.” Immediately, I wince. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m honored. Sir.”
Allu takes his hand back and smacks my shoulder. “Don’t make it fucking weird, Luc. I’m just a man doing a job. Yeah?”
He has an accent that’s impossible to place. It isn’t Indian, and it isn’t a posh English accent. It’s something strange. Like it’s been taken from everywhere.
I shake my head and blow out a breath. “You say that, but all the Nagas I knew growing up would shed their skin if I told them I’m about to drive Lord Krishna’s son across town.”
“Better than telling them I drove you across town. I’m a shitty driver. I once had a Naga almost twist my ear clean off because I bumped the rubbish bins with my bumper. She was furious.”
“No…”
“Yeah.” He slaps his leg and laughs. “I forget where I am all the time.”
I stare at this beautiful, ridiculous man in wonder. It feels like the world just got a little brighter. I sure as fuck feel more hopeful with Allu on our side.
I was honestly worried about how this was going to go. A large part of our case depends on the convocation. What they’re willing to do. How much they’re willing to stand up for us. And that is decided by their representative.
Lord Krishna was one of the driving forces behind the creation of the convocation.
He’s taken a large step back, like most other deities.
But his legacy lives on. Allu is not the only son of Krishna to work for the convocation in a legal capacity.
I’ve heard of a few others that spearheaded taking on the witch covens in the early days.
I might not know anything about Allu as a person, but I find it hard to believe he isn’t a chip off the old block if this is what he’s doing.
There are many deities who have become so self-absorbed that they ignore their followers. Especially among the old gods. They just don’t care about people. But from everything I’ve heard, that’s not Lord Krishna’s way.
I swallow and shift the car into drive while my mind races.
This might work.
“Let me get the others on speaker so we can get on the same page,” Gracie says from the backseat. I listen as the call connects,, and she shushes both cars. “I need everyone to shut up. Ezra, why don’t you put your phone on mute?”
“Doing that now,” the vampire grumbles. He is not a fan of being outside right now. His sun resistance is regressing, but that’s another problem for later.
Gracie offers the phone to Allu. “What’s our plan?”
Allu twists and takes the phone. “You have an excellent argument against the Neilan Coven. All of your paperwork and evidence lay a strong foundation for a case. The convocation is going to be very interested in following this. Thank you three for being brave enough to come to us. Most witches in your situation wouldn’t dare.
And we cannot step in unless we are asked to. So, our hands have been tied.”
“You—what? You’ve been waiting for a case like this to fall into your laps?” Gracie asks.
Allu lifts a shoulder. “I wouldn’t say waiting.
It’s difficult to make contact with witches.
Did you know that all the contact information for your shop that’s on file with the convocation goes back to the coven?
And as a representative of the convocation, I cannot approach you without first receiving an invitation? ”
“What?” Gracie gasps.