Keiron

He combed his hands through his hair.

He tried.

He tried to keep his niece safe from the council.

He was thankful she was in Scotland. It should keep her away from them long enough to discover how Lexi survived and to hunt down Cornelius.

Books surrounded him, but none contained what he was looking for. That’s why we took a trip to the Athena Library in London. Of course, he would set off alarm bells.

‘Spells for Death and Beyond’ was the book he needed. He scoured the internet. The Athena Library even reached out to necromancers with no response.

Buzz, buzz.

He quickly glanced at his phone and immediately picked it up.

“Hello, Jack?”

“Keiron! How’s it going?”

“Not well. The council knows.”

“…Shit. How close are they?”

“They’re on your doorstep.”

Jack sighed heavily.

“… Jack, I know you are ex-council. What will they do when they find Lexi?”

Jack quieted for a while, “They will take her to London. She’ll be placed in front of the court…”

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Keiron dabbed his eyes dry at the detailed account Jack gave.

“Do you think you can find something for me?” Keiron asked apprehensively.

“I can try. What is it?”

“A book. I think it might have the information we need.”

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Magnus

A crackle came over the radio before an unsure voice said, “Erm, boss?”

Magnus switched it on, “Hm?”

“Her Book of Shadows isn’t in the house, and her familiar has run away…”

“Alright. And her medical records?”

“They are sending them over within the hour.”

“Good.”

He turned the radio off and proceeded to his next target, The Caldwell’s.

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“So… I heard you were recently forced to step down as coven leader?”

“Yes.” Nixon’s voice was stern, unrelating.

“Why is that?”

“The coven thought I was biased. Not fit to lead anymore.”

“Bias? In what way?”

“In treating a dangerous member of the coven.”

Magnus’ eyes narrowed, “Dangerous?”

“Yes,” Nixon crossed his arms casually, “Lexi had too much power.”

“She was… too powerful, and so is dangerous?”

Nixon nodded. Magnus looked at the sand falling in the timer. It was still going; the truth spell was still working.

“Her whole mother's side comes from dark magic. She is just like her father.”

“From what I understand, she saved your daughter?”

“Quinn was in that situation, thanks to Lexi.”

“Oh?”

“Powerful people draw in unwanted attention. My girl got mixed up in it.”

Magnus took a moment. They did not match what his daughter had informed him an hour ago. Extracting the truth from the coven members, he also knew how this interview would end.

“Let’s start from the beginning. Were you there during Lexi’s Rite of Passage?”

“Of course.”

“Talk me through that night…”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

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Jack

He stood from the edge of the trees. So far, he had evaded the detective and his lackeys. He wanted to keep it that way.

Watching the dainty house, he spied Quinn's purple hair. She leaned onto the small fence, waiting.

The door slammed open.

The detective hauled Nixon out, arms behind his back, wrestling with handcuffs.

“You do not have to say anything, but anything…”

The Maranda rights were spoken. Tears fell, daughter and wife were upset but accepting.

Jack leaned back into the bark, watching from the shadows.

This detective was good.

If Nixon weren’t arrested, Jack would have made damn sure to stick his nose in the case. Locking away a witch's power without the council's consultation, without the person even committing a crime, was abhorrent.

“That’s that.”

Jack kicked off the tree. He had some questions to ask and connections to make.

It's easy when you have a bar.

What wasn’t easy was trying to find a speedy vampire while racing the council.

----------------------------------------

Lexi

I made sure I was presentable.

“Morgan?” I asked apprehensively after knocking on the small wooden door.

“Come in.” Her voice was soft on the other side.

Opening the door, I was greeted by a witch's cove. A small table in the centre, every nook and cranny filled with something. Jars, dolls, books, candles…

She sat in a rocking chair, gently moving back and forth while staring into a crystal ball at the centre of the table. The images shift and jump. I saw William and Rose dancing, clinking glasses in the reflection.

“Shut the door, It’s drafty!” Morgan did not turn to look at me enter.

I leaned against the door, not knowing where to stand. After a moment, she turned, “Just you? Where is Leo?”

“Stretching his legs.”

She was quiet for a moment. No doubt realising I had been crying. It was my fault; I instigated the argument. I placed a veil over us and made a mountain out of a molehill.

“Come here. Sit.” She leaned down and pulled out a small chair.

“What’s up?” She asked after I settled down. This time, she observed me.

I didn’t know how to start…

‘Just spit it out, Lex!’

“You said… You said, you didn’t know how or when I will die. What did you mean by that?”

She leaned back, inspecting my face, “Necromancy isn’t just about manipulation of the dead...”

“I can communicate with spirits… If they are not stubborn. I can also see possible futures with the help of spirits.” She waved a hand over the ball in the centre. The image changed to an achingly familiar one.

“Your Grandma’s: Selena, Vera, and your father. All saw this. As did I. I watched it all unfold. After this, I could see nothing more. No future of yours would reveal itself, and Leo’s was lonely.”

I looked away.

“I suggest you watch…”

Looking up at Morgan, I watched the image apprehensively.

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Watching from a third person's perspective was dissociating—an out-of-body experience. I lived through every step, every word, every bite. Yet, I still sat on the edge of my seat, anticipating every move.

I still did not relax when the vampires left the scene.

‘This is it.’

My eyebrows scrunched together as moments passed before the Abbey began to light red.

“Vitamortum!”

I winced at the words, remembering the pain. My whole body felt on fire, scalding my skin, and my muscles felt past the aching point. I couldn’t catch my breath.

Yet I felt cold.

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“Lexi?”

“Hm?”

“What happened after this?”

“… I was taken to hospital-” “No… What happened after the spell… did you have an out-of-body experience? Life flash before your eyes?”

‘How could I forget?’

“I-I remember staring down at myself…”

“Was anybody there?”

“I think… I think my grandma was there. That’s when she said about ‘going back’…”

Shooting pains stopped me from thinking any further. I rubbed my forehead, trying to ease the pain away.

“Did she touch you?”

“I think I hugged her… I don’t know.”

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I looked up at the crystal ball. The image inside is frozen—Quinn, Lathen and Leo around me. Leo holding me up, crying. All of them were.

Behind them, you could tell from the ruins being lit up that dawn was breaking. Dark blood splatters and scorch marks could be seen all around, and an iron cage was in a deep corner.

“Wait,” I whispered.

Morgan looked away from the ball to me.

“Someone… Someone else was there. Another witch. I spoke to her briefly.”

This time, Morgan's eyebrows scrunched together. With her hands, she manipulated the scene inside the ball.

“Where?” she asked.

I pointed to the iron cage, “There.”

Their face obscured, they sat crouched, locked behind an iron cage. The lock pinged open with the flick of my wrist.

“Thank you. Restorignum Dracula.”

----------------------------------------

“T-that’s her.” I could practically feel the colour leaving my cheeks, “The crow lady… from the train.”

“You’re sure?” Morgan stared at me intensely.

“Absolutely.”

“Leave him!”

Came a voice from the ball. It played my dream from the train—the same voice.

“It’s her.”

Curiosity overcame her face as Morgan moved slightly closer to the ball. She looked back at me, “This is your dream? From the train?”

I nodded.

“I haven’t seen this…”

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We watched from a cramped corner, almost like the train’s CCTV footage, yet I knew I was dreaming.

“Hm, You’re right… Same voice. Same energy.” Morgan scribbled down in the notepad next to her.

“No!”

“I knew it. It was a scream.” I watched as the picture flickered out of the ball.

“A scream?”

“Yeah, did you not hear it?”

It replayed again after a short flick of Morgan's finger.

The black and crimson red swirled and mixed, overtaking most of the space. Then it slowed, a blur of pale yellow fading to gold, “No!”

“That… is a spirit.” She tapped the blur, making it stop.

“You said someone was rooting for you… I think this is them… I wonder…”

Morgan pulled out Tarot cards and began to shuffle.

“You’re going to try reaching out?”

“If they are following you, they are here. Maybe they can shed some more light on your predicament.”

Morgan tapped on the deck twice before shuffling. While she shuffled, her eyes went to a soft gaze, and her green magic shimmered around her hands and the cards. Her hands moved like lightning, mixing the cards.

A few cards flew out onto the ground, and she paused, picking them up.

“The Tower,” she said, placing it on the table.

Her eyebrows scrunched, “The Devil and…”

“Death.”