Curtis hit the wall of his father’s office in frustration, after searching the whole area, to the best of his knowledge, and finding nothing. There was nothing. No cameras or memory cards. Nothing to prove his uncle’s innocence, or stop the blackmail. He sank to his father’s chair, and lowered his head to the table, his thoughts seeking a solution. Where else could he go to search for this? Twenty minutes earlier, after searching to no avail, he had walked to his parents’ room and had ransacked the place upside down, then rearranged it in case he missed anything and also to douse suspicions but there had been nothing. He had returned here, and still there was nothing. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t fail on his first mission. That wasn’t nice. He must retrieve that disk, but how? How could he find it? Should he meet his father’s beta? Because thinking of this right now, there was no way his father would have pulled off the blackmailing act alone. There must have been t
As Sheila sat in one of the stools present in the kitchen, her mind drifted to thoughts of her absent daughter, Emma, who was far away in another country, in another continent. She hadn't met Emma yet, as she had been in a coma for all these years, but she couldn't help but worry about her. She couldn’t help the motherly twinge of anxiousness that filled her heart even for a child she hadn’t known. By morning, Emma would be undergoing her shift, and Sheila couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at her.Would Prescott do his job well?The ancients had sung the squirrel’s praises and all, but she couldn’t help the unease buckling up her heart. What kind of shift would Emma undergo?Her daughter wasn’t a normal werewolf after all. She was a combination of sorts, a combination they still hadn’t a clue about. So, would Prescott handle it?Sheila sighed.Somehow she knew that Emma was the oldest of her three children, and from what she had heard, the latter was quite stubborn. It m
Melvina blushed around her neck. “Ehee, not true.” Even though she knew it was true. She brought her stool closer to her friend, hoping that maybe this would be the talk that would set them on the path of healing, the both of them, especially for her. “You know what, I will go first.” Sheila conceded, seeing that Melvina was at a loss of words. She understood why though. The latter had a lot to put together. A lot to explain. “I’m sorry for being too hard on you for your choices. Wait first, sorry for blanking out on you. I’m sure that had caused you to blank out too. I had asked you about Mr Kletch, and then ghosted you. He is still around though right?” Melvina nodded. “Still hale and hearty. Still doesn’t talk a lot, and barely around. He spends most of his time in the human towns, probably because seeing us, his kins people, reminds him of the war, and the mate that he had lost. So, he chops wood, and then we don’t see him for quite a long while.” “Do you think he is around
Leonarya cussed, threw away her working cowries and the other magic inclined stuff lying on the black table in anger, after trying for the umpteenth time to conjure up the spying demons. She knew that they were gone, that they had been buried somewhere she could never know, but she didn’t know what else to do if not trying the more, or trying to do something, instead of lazing about and thinking about the fallacy of her plans and magic. She hadn’t bargained for the vampires to be put to play in this story of hers. She hadn’t counted the betrayal of her daughter too. No. Not hers. But Sheila’s. Freya. Leonarya knew she hadn’t been the best of mothers to the girl, but she would like to believe that she had tried. Would she have tried in that trying way if she had her own children with her? Leonarya shook her head, and slumped into her black throne seat. She knew that she would do better. There was just this thing about the bond between you and your real child. But she would like
Leonarya felt her knees slacken at Kyran’s words. Her mother was here? Was the woman that foolish? She even forgot, or rather didn’t deem it necessary at the moment to slap Kyran for using the Queen title on her mother. She had told him more than once not to do so. But she relegated the disobedience to shock. She was shocked too. “Where is she?” Leonarya asked, wondering that perhaps the gods were in her favor this time around. “She is in the outer court.” Leonarya nodded, and then waved him out of her presence. Kyran took a bow and hurried, wise in knowing the unstable state of Leonarya. Leonarya, whose mind had started down the memory lane again. But Leonarya shook herself out of it the next second, shook herself up, and walked out of the room. This was the wrong time to walk down the memory lane. This was no time at all. Yet, she couldn’t stop the torrent of memories that assailed her mind as she traveled the corridors to go and meet her mother. She couldn’t even help the r
A sheen of tears fuzzed up Zipfarah’s eyes as she stared at her daughter sporting a winning smirk on her lips. Did she have to do this? Zipfarah thought, wondering how they had come to this point-where she would kill her successor. “I didn’t lie, Leonarya. You are my successor. You are the oldest.” Leonarya shook her head with a sad laugh. “If Tempest was still alive, would I have being your successor, mother?” Zipfarah didn’t bother answering, didn’t bother lying. Tempest would have been the successor, and they both knew it. Zipfarah wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Yes, she was still angry that Leonarya had killed Tempest, but she had never thought it worth her own head. How could she lose two of her daughters over a human male? She didn’t understand the complications of their relationship but her daughter, Leonarya, wasn’t one to deal well with rejection. Yet, Zipfarah found it stupid that all this feud had been because of the man. She had thought that she had taught them
Tempest watched with wide eyes as Kyran-she still remembered the child who had a weird crush on her when he was but a child- escorted her mother into the dungeons. She quickly intensified the cloak she had put on around her and Ketura. They had come here to rescue Margo, but it turned out that they had been divinely led here, for this moment. If they had come a minute later or before, they wouldn’t have known that the Queen was in captivity. But how? How had her mother become present here? What about the community? What about her children? Tempest felt her heart rate spike, a deadly action in the midst of witches and wizards. “Tempest, be calm. You will give us away at this rate. At this rate, we might not be able to rescue Margo or your mother. We won’t be able to find out either what is going on back at the community, what is going on with your children. At this rate, Leonarya would find out that you are still alive. At this rate, our efforts all these months will be in vain.”
Ketura let out a sigh of relief at a mission accomplished when she and Tempest, who was still in her copied state, dropped Margo and Zipfarah on the longest couch in their sitting room. “I will be heading back to the containing room. Or rather to my place in the other side of the forest. You can come over to communicate with me whatever information you have. I still don’t think it’s a right idea that any of them know of me yet.” Ketura nodded, understanding what Tempest was talking about. They couldn’t afford a hole in their plans now, holes they couldn’t predict how it would come about, and so they would altogether eliminate anything that might look like something to trigger a hole. “We can leave them here. I’ve already activated the safeguards. We can talk in the adjourning room. I think that they would be out for more than an hour.” Tempest gave a slight nod, and headed to the particular room in question. “So, we have achieved the first phase of the plan. What do we do next?