Castor stirred his spoon around the bowl of vegetable stew. It smelled delicious and tasted heavenly, yet he’d only taken a few bites. All that weighed on his mind were those demon’s taunting, cruel warnings. It made him lose his appetite. He wanted to confide in his mom, but that required admitting to summoning demons down in their basement illegally.
If the Supernatural Council learned what he’d done, they could strip him of his magic permanently. He shuddered. A world without his magic was unbearable and foreign to even imagine, but he knew in all likelihood that it would kill him. When a wizard was stripped of their magic, it took a huge chunk of their own life force. It was a death sentence.
Wizards magic was something they were born with, but doctors could surgically remove it by cutting into their brain. Their magic nestled in the middle of the parietal lobe, pumping throughout the rest of their bodies. When removed, what residues of magic remained inside them fought for freedom and sometimes resulted in seizures or brain hemorrhaging. Usually, their bodies couldn’t keep them alive much longer after that.
It was one of the only truly disturbing things they did teach them in school. Breaking the laws cost a wizard their life, which had Castor on edge about the recent murders. Someone was vapid enough to head out on a murder spree, knowing full well of the consequences. Unless it was a lone mage who was never taught how to properly channel and use their magic, but Castor doubted that. Mages didn’t normally have that much information on death curses, nor did they hang around a town of wizard families.
“Castor, honey, are you okay?” His mom’s concerned eyes pierced through him, as if she could read his mind.
Castor nodded, shoveling a spoonful of beef and peas into his mouth to confirm so. She didn’t seem convinced, however, she kept eating and didn’t press him more. She would later. If he wasn’t able to conceal his emotions, she’d get the truth out of him.
Beside him, his childhood best friend gulped down his stew like he’d been starving. He was already on his second bowl. But that wasn’t unusual. Lucien was a stress-eater. After everything they’d uncovered about Charlotte’s death, he wasn’t surprised he’d be anxious as hell. Even Castor’s own worries surmounted to extreme heights.
Were dark wizards really rejoining up in the mountains? If so, what were their plans? Why target vampires? Every dead body, so far, had traces of the same dark wizard’s black magic. If there was a cult of them joined together, wouldn’t more of them strike? Was that demon fucking around with them?
It was shameful to lie during a deal, but Castor wouldn’t put it past her to twist the situation into something more sinister than it really was. Maybe they were infatuated with the idea of being dark wizards, but weren’t actually committing those murderous deeds. Castor had heard of little fan clubs dedicated to the dark arts and studying up on them in secret, but he assumed they were just losers who didn’t have the real courage to kill.
“Are you boys going to tell us what’s going on?” Mom finally asked, settling her inquisitive gaze on Castor.
However, before he could answer, Lucien chimed in. “I kissed a vampire to get the Supernatural Council to quit harassing Castor.”
Castor paled. “Uh, I introduced him to Sebastian. He came into our emporium during that storm.”
“How?” Dad spoke up. “Your mother’s protection spells prevent anything wicked from stepping inside, pardon the language, but you get what I mean. Vampires can’t cross through.”
“I disarmed it,” Lucien replied. “Forgive me, I only wanted to help a friend. If Sebastian had done anything to your emporium, I would have stopped him.”
The expression Mom conveyed unnerved Castor. It wasn’t anger or understanding. No, she seemed quite confused and maybe even frightened. What Lucien did with their protection spell wasn’t normal. Nobody should be able to break a wizard’s barrier, not unless they possessed powerful magic. Not even the Supernatural Council wizards could do that.
“There’s more.” Castor dropped his silver spoon, sighing. “We contacted a demon in the basement to learn more about Charlotte’s murder.”
“You what?” Her voice raised on octave, and that prominent vein on her temple bulged.
Castor cringed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I thought she could help, and we learned a little. She mentioned some dark wizards and vampire hunters gathering up in the mountains. Warned us that this is only the beginning. I think… They’re plotting something horrible.”
“Holy hell.” Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Honey, I think you were right.”
Castor frowned. “What?”
“I suspect they’re behind this,” Mom said. “It’s a lone group up there, cast out by the council long ago. Two of them were sentenced to death but escaped. They’ve tried locating them for years now, but nothing came from the investigation. After so long, they just called it quits. Figured the wolfwalkers made them into snacks.”
“Why now?” Lucian asked. “Why my sister? I don’t understand her involvement in this. That demon claimed the Council made her into an informant, digging in places she shouldn’t.”
A sympathetic smile touched her black-painted lips. “I wouldn’t put it past the council to do something like that. While I don’t encourage you to ever seek out a demon’s advice again, she was probably right. Charlotte likely got caught up in something that made someone want her dead.”
“What should we do?” Castor asked.
“Quit investigating, before the same people who killed her come after you both. Especially you, Lucien. You’re like a second son to me, and while I have no authority over you, please promise me you won’t go searching for trouble.”
Lucien froze, gazing down. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vale. I can’t let this go. The Council isn’t doing enough to find her killer, and we’ve learned more in these past few days than they have. We have more leads now.”
“I understand. Please, let me know if you need anything. If you feel you’re in danger at any moment, come to me. I don’t care what you’ve found. We’ll help you and keep you safe from anything. Even the council.”
“Thank you.” Lucien smiled. “That means a lot.”
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