InsaneJournal

I hate Council meetings.

Though thank God I’ve convinced them to stop having the damn meetings in Latin. Or, I should say, I convinced them through Ebenezar and his allies on the Senior Council.

But, yes, I hate the meetings.

And this one doesn’t look like it’s going to be much happier since Virg insisted on coming despite me telling her every time they wouldn’t allow it. I was shocked senseless when the two Wardens guarding the door let us in without a word. And she smirked at me like it was a good thing.

Turns out they wanted her there.

“So,” sneered the Merlin as we entered the building, me wearing the ever required robes open over my jeans and Led Zeppelin shirt, she with her rainbow-dyed hair alongside dark Capri’s and a blue tie-dyed cut-off shirt. “This is your infamous ‘help’.”

Virg arched an eyebrow and said, “Infamous? Wow, I feel special.”

“Virg,” I growled warningly. She glared back at me but fell silent, standing next to me with her arms crossed over her chest.

The Merlin sniffed then looked at me with the words, “We are to speak about this, boy.”

I bristled at the name then snarled, “You brought the entire Council here to bitch at me for letting someone help me?”

“She is human, boy,” said Ancient Mai. “What can she do?”

“A damn lot!” I snapped. Taking a step away, I threw one hand towards Virg and growled, “She has saved my ass enough times for me to trust her with my life. Magic she may not have, but she’s brave and determined to help me. That, dear Seniors, is what matters in the fight. I don’t need her to have magic to help me out – just to be there and to know that she’s got my back when I need it.”

“What?” sneered LaFortier. “As your mother helped your father so well?”

I saw red then, anger rushing hot as suddenly as a flash flood, and brought together enough power to render him to ash. Virg’s hand gripped my shoulder then – she’d gotten good at sensing when I’m about to rage – and her fingers pressed down hard. The pain was enough to bring me back to my senses.

Thank God for her being there.

LaFortier seemed to realize his mistake as I fixed a venomous stare on him. I’d been willing before to forgive and forget his disgust for my family. Never again now.

“You aren’t worthy of even thinking about my mother,” I snarled, all venom and rage. The press of Virg’s fingers cooled my head and I hissed in response, letting her know I was hurting and understood her all at once. She stopped pressing her fingers into my shoulder but didn’t move her hand.

Glaring briefly at LaFortier again, I then snorted, “Now that we’ve cleared that up…what did this meeting actually get called for? ‘Cause I know it’s not just for you all to bitch at me.”

“Ah, yes,” said a deep, rich voice. The hooded form of the Gatekeeper rose and continued, “We have received dire news from Wardens stationed in South America.”

Soft murmurs stared then stilled at a twitch of his cowled head.

“It seems…it seems that the Red Court are determined to go to war with us again.”

The older wizards, the one’s who had survived the first war, began muttering loudly now and I felt none too few gazes twitch towards me. I clenched my jaw in response and stared at the Gatekeeper, not moving my eyes from him. His cowl dipped towards me then he added, “And it seems one of our own has been taken captive by them.”

No.

Dear God and Hell’s bells no.

Please.

Not that.

I saw the gleam of eyes underneath the cowl and then the Gatekeeper bowed towards me with the muttered of, “My sincerest condolences.”

No.

“Nick,” hissed Virg, gently pressing on my shoulder. “Nick, we’ll get him back.”

“There will be nothing of the sort,” boomed the Merlin. “Most particularly not by the pair of you!”

“What?!” She spun and exclaimed, “But you can’t just…”

“This is but the first casualty of war.” His eyes caught mine and he added, “Fitting that it would be the one that started it in the first place.”

I bit my lip and closed my eyes tight, grabbing Virg’s shoulder tightly as I fought down the rage the rose up in response to that. Her hand fumbled over mine and squeezed back despite the fact that I knew I was hurting her. She took it, a stalwart stone upon which I could lean and regain my equilibrium.

“Damn you,” I hissed when I was able, my voice tight and raw with pain and rage. Chairs shifted uneasily around us and I think none too few got up and move back. Lifting my head, I stared past them all to the Merlin, who was caught somewhere between a sneer and a mask of fear. “DAMN YOU!”

Virg’s rainbow hair flicked out of the corner of my eyes and I turned my gaze to her. She stared back at me, a fire just as venomous as mine raging in her eyes.

It was because of her being there that I didn’t just start pulling in power and burn the lot of the bastards.

“Nick,” she breathed, carefully reaching up to touch my face. I pressed my cheek into her hand and closed my eyes, trying to force myself to calm down.

“Get me out of here,” I growled to her. “Get me out of here before I kill someone.”

She just nodded and I felt her hands grip mine, strong and sturdy as the rest of her. I followed her blindly, trusting her to lead me.

When I felt a cool breeze on my face, I broke away from her, stumbling slightly. Her hands fell on me again and I flung myself away with a scream of “Don’t touch me!” She gasped but stayed as I staggered away from her, collapsing into the grassy area that surrounded the old barn the meeting had been arranged in.

The rage I felt at the Merlin and them all swelled up in wild flames then and I screamed into the rain-damp earth. With a shudder and a wrenching of my body backwards, I howled my fury at the sky.

And every shred of magic I’d unconsciously gathered was released in one huge and furious storm.

When I opened my eyes, there was a swath of fire scorched earth around me in a ten-foot radius where I lay on my back, breathing like I’d just run a marathon. Virg collapsed next to me, kicking up ashes, and grabbed the collar of my shirt to shake me.

“Damnit, Nick, don’t do that! I thought you’d just killed yourself!”

I winced when I saw the tears in my friend’s eyes and reached for her closest hand, gripping it tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I croaked, my voice raw.

“You’re going back to training if you’re doing anything,” said a voice I knew from nearby. I lifted my head and smiled at Morgan, who just sniffed and glowered at me.

He’s actually a good guy, I’ve discovered; taught me a bit about combat magic in the past few years. And he confessed that he knew my dad was a good guy too.

Morgan frowned and stepped forward into the brunt area, kicking up ashes with ever step. When he stopped, the toes of his boots touched the soles of my sneakers and he said sternly, “If you end up like this whenever something angers you, you’ll be dead in hours.”

“What does it matter?” I hissed, managing to shove myself up onto one elbow. “I can’t do shit. You can’t do shit. No one can do a damned thing because everyone in there hates Dad no matter all the good he’s done!”

“Has it ever occurred to you that there is a good reason why?”

“Yeah. They’re fuckin assholes.”

Virg snorted in laughter at that but Morgan just glowered. He then leaned down and said, “No, boy. You were young when it happened, but I would still expect you to remember it.”

I stared at him for a moment, confused, and started, “I don’t kno…”

Then I remembered.

“Coins,” I whispered, remembering a tarnished silver coin a man had shown Lizzy and I after he’d kidnapped us. I’d been too young to understand what exactly was going on then. She had known, though.

“A Denarius,” sneered Morgan. “Holder of a Fallen Angel and a cursed object is there ever were any. Your father holds the last of the coins and it is a known fact to all within the Council.”

“And that’s why they won’t go help him?!” I exploded, struggling to my feet. I nearly fell but Virg caught me and hefted me upright so I could glower down at Morgan. “That’s bullshit!”

“He made a deal with the devil, boy!”

“TO SAVE ME AND MY SISTER!”

Morgan growled and spat, “The ‘why’ doesn’t matter. He still has it. He hasn’t let it go. Without him doing that, the Council will give him no help.”

“And how the fuck do you expect him to do that when he’s a captive?” sneered Virg.

“I don’t.”

I screamed in anger from behind my teeth and wished my magical reserves hadn’t been spent by my personal firestorm. Morgan’s face was a pretty tempting target for some fireball hurling practice right about now.

Then I sighed and said, “This isn’t work this shit.” I sagged heavily against Virg, who wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, then looked at the Warden. “Damnit, Morgan, he’s my dad.”

Morgan stared at me and softly said, “You do realize that they’ve probably already turned him. Or worse.”

I shuddered at the thought and nodded.

“I know. And he’d want me to do something about it before he hurt someone.”

He nodded then drew something from within his coat – a dagger. Leaning forward, he handed it to Virg, who took it as gingerly as if it were a time bomb.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A dagger created near the end of the first war with the Red Court,” replied Morgan. “It will kill if you thrust it directly into ones heart.” Then he looked at me and hissed, “Be careful, boy. This is dangerous ground upon which you tread. And you’ll have no help.”

“I wouldn’t want help from the Council now if it came in the form of an army,” I spat.

He just smiled bitterly then turned and left us alone. Virg looked down at the dagger then breathed, “What if he’s right?”

“About what?”

“That they turned your dad.”

I sighed and reached for the dagger, drawing it as she held the sheath. Holding it up, I appraised the gleaming black blade and replied coldly, “I’ll make them hurt for it. And then…then I won’t let him hurt anyone.”