Chapter 62 Jax
“Iwant eyes on his habits, his schedule, and his hangout spots. I want to know when he eats, when he shits, everything, is that understood? If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right.
Vadon’s family has high security, and what we can assume are demons working for them, such as mimics, so be on the look out for any simple changes you would miss in appearances.
” Creed’s soured pain was written upon his face.
“In the meantime, I want Birdie looked after twenty-four seven. Do not let her out of your sight. She stays in the bunker below the wine cellar, on the farm. Their sacrifices can’t be made until a full moon, giving us two days to prepare.
Skinwalkers are difficult to kill. They’re treacherous demons, spawning from the lowest pits of the underworld.
I’ve killed a few in my day. They’re like roaches.
” I picked up a dagger. “You’ll need Sally-Sue here to get the job done.
This is a Nordic blade, blessed by Odin himself and gifted to me by our late grandfather.
This dagger and its sorcery will puncture a skinwalker’s soul, ready for a Reaper’s taking. ”
Creed grabbed the dagger from my hands. “Leave this to me, brother,” Creed affirmed. I nodded to him. We all knew there was no way of talking Creed out his own vengeance. Who was I to stop him? I had my own plan of vengeance lingering on my tongue, so close I could taste it. Vadon’s soul was mine.
Faye tried to purposely cut some of the tension in the air. “Can someone explain to me what exactly this huge book is, and why the hell there are catacombs under our homes, and why the grimoire was down there?”
Rocky sat down on a huge boulder, looking exhausted by Faye’s never ending questions. But I understood, it was a lot to take in, in such a short amount of time. While we grew up having awareness about these types of things, Faye was sheltered.
“Papi always told me the founding families made a pact to protect it. Gods forbid it gets in the wrong hands. It’s another reason why this land is so unique and magical,” Rocky interjected with her boots crossed.
“Your father would be correct. This land, like most, is Indigenous land. It is built on ancestral magic. Its desert caves are known to hide dangerous secrets—one of them being a gemstone full of vigorous magic. Our ancestors agreed upon destroying it, but its power was indestructible, not of this world. So your ancestors, the Robles bloodline, worked on a spell to weave the stone into pieces. So that we may all share the burden of protecting it. Our ancestors took an initiative, Faye, to protect, not just this grimoire and the stone, but the land they both originated from.”
Pop turned to Raquel. “Your ancestor was a well-known shifter and shaman, someone of great wisdom, who documented the occult, going back past mortal lifetimes. His name was Animoa Ravenport. He studied creatures, monsters, and spell binding. He journaled everything as he learned the ways of medicine and the occult. Protection spells, banishing spells, creatures and their origins, as well as their destruction. It’s all in there.
It must be protected at all costs. This grimoire and stone has been hunted for centuries by man and creature alike from all realms.” Pop peeped at the book like he was terrified by the sight of it.
“So what does the stone have to do with any of this?” Raquel said, side-eyeing the heavy book.
“Honestly, no one really knows, still to this day. Just that it’s a stone, with a very big magic source,” Creed replied, waving his fingers in her face mockingly.
“All we know is that it is native to this land—some say an asteroid hit it centuries ago from a parallel universe, others say a witch cursed it. We may never really know.” Pop poured everyone a drink from the wine cellar.
“Someone’s been sending me apparitions for the past few months.” Faye’s word vomit immediately tested the very string holding onto any ounce of sanity I had left.
My patience was worn thin. She knew I couldn’t spank her in front of my father, but she knew damn well this would be cause for punishment later. “You’re telling me this now, Faye?” I gave her a look that said, I’m going to punish the absolute fuck out of you later.
“Listen, I was going through things that I didn’t understand, not to mention a divorce okay, so fuck me if I wasn’t in a rush to be like, ‘Oh yeah. By the way, this dark entity is trying to eat me!’” Faye retorted, throwing daggers at me with her Bambi eyes.
Ryker’s muffled chuckles surfaced in the background, making me want to squeeze the air from his scrawny tattooed neck.
“Someone sent it to her,” Rocky commented, while sipping her red wine from one of Pop’s gauntlets.
“Who the hell would send Faye something evil like this?” I was livid she hadn’t told me this sooner.
“Whomever it is, they’re doing some serious dark witchcraft, meaning they’re powerful and dangerous.
Even spell binders have rules to abide by.
We call them heretics, and they only sire magic from the darkest parts of the occult,” Rocky said, standing from the round wooden table looking troubled.
“They are nearly possessed and high off of the dark surge of power they wield. They go mad, even willing to kill their own kind just to get a tiny taste of power once more. They sire these apparitions in hopes of weakening their victims they wish to feed from, like leeches. The issue with wielding straight from the dark occult, is it can drain you if you abuse it. The dark occult is meant to only be used for last resorts, like war.” Rocky clasped her hands together.
All of us just looked at one another across the large round table in heavy silence.
“Whoever these heretic fuck are, do you think they have any connection to the Shedim cult?” I started rubbing my temples, ready to kill every single one of these motherfuckers with a single fucking blink. My shadows began to slither from the fury seeping from my body.
“It’s hard to say, brother. If word’s gotten around that the Seer has claimed her power, that could make a lot of beings feel threatened, even her own kind,” Ryker explained, tapping the table with his pen. I wanted to take it and use it to stab whoever the fuck was trying to hurt my family.
“The timing can’t be a coincidence,” Faye said in distress, looking over the old heavy vintage grimoire. “Ma told me in the letter that my father didn’t leave us because he wanted to; the realms think I’m dead.” Faye gulped. “Or, they did.”
My little witch was so overwhelmed. I realized we haven’t really had a minute to be alone in a while.
It was an excruciating few days, watching Faye drown in her worry and grief.
I missed her lively scent on me desperately.
I was done watching my little light cry, and it not being over my cock.
Those tears were the only exception. I needed to be alone and speak with her.
I could sense her anxiousness, her panic was brewing like a deadly hurricane only I could weather.
I knew every detonation button and sweet spot, and the way she tried to seem aloof when I knew she was secretly stirring inside, waiting to burst out of her very own skin.
My girl needed to be sinfully relieved, her deprivation making me parched for her sweet nectar.
She needed me to fuck the pain and grief right out of her.
Faye was no saint. She was always craving more out of life, she’s adventurous and curious.
But the thing about Faye is, sex with her wasn’t just about a climax, it was about liberation and release.
My cock hardened in my jeans. Faye grew more silent in the corner, and I sensed her agony.
“Everyone out, now!”
Everyone became silent, reading the room as they stood from their seats and began walking out without a word.
Faye stood up, attempting to close the farm door.
“Not you, baby girl, you come here.” I pointed to my lap.
I watched her olive cheeks flush like pink rose petals. Faye sat on my throbbing length as she rubbed her ass on me, knowing exactly what she was doing. I knew my girl needed to be ravished by Death.
“A penny for your thoughts,” I whispered into her neck. I grabbed her hair and laid it to the opposite side of her shoulder so I could gently touch her neck and feel her pulse rise, her body speaking to me in sensual movements. “Talk to me…”