Chapter 6 - Velra
~Velra~
I wasn’t even touching it, but I could feel it burning a hole even through its sheath as it rested inside a slit-pocket worked into the seam of my leather pants.
It wasn’t real.
That sensation was false.
I knew it logically.
But that wasn’t the only thing at play.
The weight of carrying that kind of weapon was twisting my perception, trying to mess with my head.
As if I’d let that happen.
I patted it in my pocket.
The weapon I’d taken from Sylas’ collection a little while ago.
Shortly after my brother had killed me with a very similar tool.
An iron dagger.
I’d been hiding it away with my magic since, prepared to call it forth at a moment’s notice.
When it was time.
And that time was now.
A rush of gold and white magic swirled around me as I passed through the invisible gateway only discernible because Cassius and Ketheron had spelled it to recognize my blood and magic as well.
Technically, so I could enter whenever I liked.
Although, Cassius hadn’t exactly intended for me to do that alone—to come face-to-face with Sorin alone.
None of my men wanted me doing that.
And that sort of thing was exactly why I hadn’t told them about this, why I hadn’t brought them in on my plan at this early stage.
Granted, my original plan had been to meet with Thryne, ensure they were working on this Dark Fae involvement with Puritas and a whole lot of bad shit, and then I’d intended to question Sorin to gather intel on where the order for all of this was coming from and why.
The idea had been that I’d provide Thryne with resources and backup to help them forcibly revoke the order from the Dark Fae Realm itself to prevent further Dark Fae beings from going down that fucked-up.
And then I’d loop my men in and we’d track those soldiers still out there and shut them down, ending Dark Fae involvement.
Following that, it would be up to Thryne to work on damage control and restoring the rep of Dark Fae beings.
But that meeting had come with complications that had altered that strategy.
My parents’ involvement shifted things. Because Thryne wanted their location.
And the way they wanted to go about it was the danger—the fact that they intended to go through Sorin.
They would come for him. It would only be a matter of time before word of his perceived usefulness would spread too, and others would want him.
And that came with the risk of him being liberated from this place.
Him being out there again. A threat to me and to those I loved.
The hell I was going to allow that to happen.
And that was why I was here now—to stop his release from happening.
While I still could.
There was only one way to do that.
Hell.
I focused on the sprawling gray stone mansion as I reached the entrance, the doors opening as they felt my presence.
I stepped through, my heels clacking on the white marble floors.
I swept my hand over my left wrist, disintegrating the glamor I’d conjured before leaving my dorm room this morning and my Watch of Warding came into view.
It was flaming wildly now because Sorin was near.
The mansion was sprawling, so I would use my watch to locate that psycho’s precise location.
I hadn’t been here before. It had been Cassius, Sylas, and Ketheron who’d settled Sorin into this place, while I’d been back at the apartment with Lazriel.
All I knew was that they’d made the accommodations resemble a cell for Sorin.
I just didn’t know where exactly that cell happened to be within this mansion.
But the moment the watch led me toward a winding metal staircase that descended down to the basement level, it clued me in.
Sure enough as I hurried down the steps and found myself in a bleak concrete space with weak lighting, it became apparent that the cell they’d fashioned was in a literal dungeon.
There were three cells with thick shimmering steel bars.
As I passed by the closest two cells, I saw that they were cave-like, Medieval-type creations, just a hard bench and a ratty blanket within and a dirt floor covering the space.
There was a tiny window high up on one wall that let in as much light as the single dangling lightbulb.
It was a creepy stark contrast to the upper levels of the mansion.
Well, the place had been intended for Ketheron, somewhere for him to be comfortable that would function as a safe haven, so that nice aesthetic made sense. Adding in this dungeon element had been specifically for Sorin, because my men didn’t want him comfortable.
The third cell was offset from the other two and located right at the back.
I steeled myself as my watch indicated that Sorin was inside.
And then I stepped up to the window into the cell that was secured with shimmering metal bars just like the rest.
There my former brother was sitting in the corner against the grimy wall, his knees pulled up against his chin, his dark red hair matted and greasy and obscuring his face.
His turtleneck was caked in dirt like his jeans.
I noted that his blazer was balled up on the bench on the other side of the small room being used as a pillow.
There was a tray of half-eaten food near the door.
Cassius had told me that he’d crafted a spell that would deliver food systematically and conjure it into the room without the need to tend to it ourselves and have to worry about accommodating the bastard to keep him alive.
I noted the half-eaten dinner roll, yet a bowl of stew finished off.
“We couldn’t get through a single family meal without you scarfing down at least three dinner rolls beforehand. And yet you’ve barely touched that one now.”
His head whipped up at the sound of my voice.
Confusion and surprise flickered in his eyes.
But then they hardened all too quickly.
“Calling on a fond memory of our family… you’re here to lull me into a false sense of security before you torture me for information? Is that it?”
“Once again, your fanaticism and how it’s corrupted your mind demonstrates how deeply you misjudge me, how you’ve forgotten who I am.”
“You’re sure about that? Sure you being turned into hybrid filth hasn’t actually changed you more than just physically? That it hasn’t demonized you? That’s what it does to all of them. Plus, you did torture me outside the necromancer’s house with your lightning.”
“You mean, exactly how you tortured Lazriel?”
He scoffed. “Your fucking hybrid lover. Disgusting. All of it. Then you’re also with a disgraced Fallen. The necromancer on top of that. There’s no purity anywhere with you. It’s sacrilege over and over.”
“A high-ranking member of an organization that’s committed mass murder and aims to escalate to full-on genocide talking of sacrilege? That’s another level of warped thinking. Even for you.”
He pushed to his feet. “What do you want? Why come here?”
“A lot of people want to get their hands on you. They believe you’re a weak link they can exploit against Puritas. Now that Victor Halrow isn’t bolstering you.”
“Weak link?” he snarled. “When the Guardian Movement took me because Cassius shoved me into their clutches, they couldn’t break me through questioning.”
“Yeah, about that… your mind was inaccessible. Not because of anything you did or any strength or power on your part, but because an Ancient locked it down using a warped version of vampiric coercion. Victor Halrow strikes again.”
He started. “What? No. That can’t—”
“I guess he finds your deeply sadistic nature an asset given your work with Puritas. He could wield that quite easily I’d imagine. Your sadism did often override logic and your ability to see the big picture—or any true picture.”
“Actually, he backed me up and helped me move up the ranks of Puritas even though I’m young compared to a lot of them. All because he adores me. Do you hear me? You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spat for good measure, “Abomination.”
“Adores you? You think he’s in love with you?”
“I know it. He’s told me. The more sadistic I am, the more that love deepens.”
“Huh,” I said, slapping my hand to the door in a faux casual stance.
“So you’re fine knowing that he’s also obsessed with Lazriel Thaine, then?
That he’s explicitly stated numerous time that he wants him—not just to torture him.
He wants to make Lazriel his.” I made a show of thinking on it.
“I guess it’s an open relationship with the two of you. ”
He roared and charged the door.
Of course, before he even fully hit it, he was blown back by the magic enveloping the space and he staggered, only just managing to maintain his footing. I saw him snap his palms up in an instinctive urge to call his magic, but that wasn’t possible all the while he was trapped inside the cell.
Instead, he bellowed at me, “You fucking cunt! You don’t know shit!
Victor only cares about Lazriel from the standpoint of trying to spare him from our leader wanting Lazriel’s head on a spike!
It’s some weird sire-sireling thing between him and Remnant.
Remnant has forbidden the wolf-vampire hybrid from being harmed and Victor is just upholding that because he’s sired to that fucker.
We’re working on breaking that hold, so it’s not gonna be a problem soon.
He’ll be free. Some hardcore Dark Fae mind-meddling mixed with black magic and the Celestial magic Morien’s in possession of now…
it’ll force Remnant to release his hold on Victor.
Mom and Dad are already using Celestial power to boost their mind-meddling, so the black magic added will be another level.
” He shoved a hand through his hair. “And Remnant’s just being a cunt too because he wants to stick it to Puritas and he knows well how important it is for us to make an example out of your bitch boyfriend. ”
Wow.
I’d known once I worked him up into a rage, he’d reveal a whole lot.