Amid The Shadows Ch. 04

Alistair stroked the female's hair as she slept in his arms. Finally he was close to his revenge. Diana had put on a show with Martinez Junior at that damn fund raiser, just like she said she would, collecting information on the family. Smart demon. Unfortunately her time and usefulness was drawing to a close.

Alistair took a breath, tilting his chin to observe his unwilling guest. He grunted, the word captor seemed so uncivilised. At this moment he needed Alexis, running his tongue over his teeth he smiled broadly. She tasted tangy with a sweet after taste. An unexpected surprise and delight. She murmured something in sleep and scratched her ear.

Alistair felt Taran edging forward. He scent was drenched in uncertainty and fear. Fear always installed the best in his workers.

'What is it?' he said roughly around his fangs.

Taran moved to the fire side, pointed to his watch with a scared hand, averting his eyes to the ceiling in a obvious gesture.

Ah, Alistair had almost forgot his little human friend. Dominic was still in one of the guest suites waiting for his taste of immortality. Fool. So easily betraying those who trusted him. His punishment would come later.

'You can dispose of him soon Taran, first I need all his insight into the Martinez estate and especially our old friend George.'

Taran nodded, his arms now out stretched edging towards Alexis.

'No' his master answered, tightening his grip. 'she stays with me. For now.'

*

Jensen watched the day light sun turn to afternoon oranges, twilight and finally a clear starry night through the glass ceiling over head. His arms were raw after his failed attempts to free himself from the shackles, he was hungry, thirsty bur more so slightly panicked. Alexis had been gone hours.

He paced, as much as his confined situation would allow. He shouted for attention, anyone's attention. He'd issued threats, empty threats falling on deaf ears.

The master was devious and devilish in everything, his actions, his thoughts. What did he want with Alexis? Was she another pawn in the games he played? What was her purpose?

The image of Alexis' dirty face filled his mind, her frowning face was full of concern as she'd tended to him the previous night. She was beautiful, classically beautiful in a familiar way. Something seemed to be on the edge of his mind and his memory but the more he thought, the more it evaded him.

The tattoo on Jensen wrist began to itch and burn. The master was close. Closer than before. He stared down at the intricate design branded on his flesh, remembering its first appearing on his wrist. The master had smiled when it had appeared and Jensen had been so damn eager to please him back then. But that was then, now....

Jensen jerked his head upwards towards the door. The familiar clink clank of a cane echoing down the passageway.

The door opened and the master entered. Jensen didn't look at him, giving him his anger had long since become a tedious exercise. The simmering purple of his cane appeared in Jensen's vision, it extended and poked at his tattoo and then shakily moved back.

Alistair observed the dungeon walking and cataloguing the space with uninterest. He cleared his throat as Jensen sighed and observed the starry night.

'It seems Jensen, more you act like a beast, more I must treat you like one' Alistair's cane scrapped against the tally etched on the stone, 'when are you going to heel like a good slave should?'

'You don't own me Alistair.'

'No, not forever but for a little while' Alistair exhaled, an action that was irrelevant for his kind.

'Where is Alexis?' Jensen punctuated the words carefully.

Alistair smirked 'sleeping, she was exhausted poor girl.'

Jensen growled, unable to hide his emotion. 'What. Did. You. Do?'

Alistair chuckled, 'have a little soft spot for Miss Martinez Jensen?'

Jensen anger abated abruptly as the mention of the Martinez surname hit home. Martinez. Could she be George and Marianne's daughter? One of the Martinez twins? If she was, her positioning in Alistair's games was suddenly clear. He always found a way to get his revenge and it seemed George and Marianne's card had been plucked from the pack. Jensen rubbed the marking on his wrist before he spoke.

'Alexis is innocent of crimes of the past, your hatred of George and Marianne has nothing to do with her, why involve her?' Jensen asked.

'Why not? Everyone in the supernatural community knows how much anonymity he had surrounding his children, tonight, at that diabolical excuse for attention that is a fund raiser, he was going to name his heir and supposedly name Alexis his concealer, when better to strike?'

Jensen jerked like he'd been stung, Concealers where shrewd in myth and legend, there hadn't been a concealer in the SN community for nearly five centuries. A concealer protected highly coveted magical objects, cursed or otherwise as well as having the unique ability to find almost anything and anyone. A protector and pinnacle of justice. Jensen was shocked, with his own power he should have been able to sense it, she should have been ebbing power. He hadn't sensed a thing.

'She doesn't have the power!' Jensen snapped meeting Alistair's gaze for the first time.

'Eluded you did she?' Alistair threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoed off the cold dark walls. He licked his lips and grinned showing a faint hint of fang. 'she tasted delectable and was very accommodating, I assure you the power is within her.'

'Bastard!' Jensen strained against the wall, for the first time in hours he heard the metal groan and start to flex.

'You are still in my debt Mage don't forget that. George Martinez may have taken Marianne from me but I will have Alexis and with her I will find what I require.'

Jensen shook in head in disgust, 'We silly few, if we'd have know what it is you had truly wanted...' Jensen let the thought trail away from his mind as images and memories of the past assaulted him.

*

In the centre of the bedroom and at the end of his son's bed, George watched Paul sleep, listened to the sound of car tyres crunching up the driveway outside. His son's colouring had started to return in sleep. Paul's hair was ascrew across the pillow and on his forehead was still a visible sheen of sweat. Whatever he'd seen seemed to still be haunting his dreams. But finally he was silent and resting.

The oak door clicked opened, sending a stray light into the room and illuminating George's shoes. Karl appeared beside him, smelling familiar of the woods and outside. George glanced his way before returning his gaze back to Paul.

'I found a witness.' George nodded to his friend at the comment, silently urging his continuation.

Karl let out a sigh as they both watched Paul sleep. 'There's something you're not telling me Martinez and I don't like it. Spill.'

'I know who may has Alexis.' The words were uttered in nothing more than a whisper.

'What the FUCK?' As Karl's anger rose, Paul stirred in sleep and mumbled. George gripped his friend's forearm and jerked his head to the adjoining office. As they passed through its doors, Karl tugged his jacket from his shoulders and threw it across a chair before whirling to face his friend.

'You need to tell me what's happening here, I've lost one of my men and so far you've been way too quiet. Alexis is missing and I'm acting as the helpless parent should while YOU!' He pointed a finger to George, 'are surprising collected and cool.'

'Do not misunderstand my emotions Wolf.' George snapped, striding to the cherry wood drinks cabinet and throwing open the door, he grabbed a bottle and poured into a crystal glass.

'Don't misunderstand? Oh I think I understand this just fi-'

'YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING!' George interrupted, slamming the glass onto the desk to his left, letting the contents spill. Brushing the hair back from his face and straightening his tie, Karl watched silently as George reined himself in. He dumped himself into the chair on the opposite side of the desk and waited. As George rolled back his shirt sleeves Karl caught a glimpse of the circle tribal tattoo on his inner wrist. George began to rub it and then scratch it almost desperately.

'George' Karl intervened before his friend scratched off his own arm.

The look on his face as Karl made eye contact made the wolf frown, like his administration to his tattoo it too was desperate. George cleared his throat, 'Before Marianne and I meet you, before the twins were born. We used to be part of a...gang if you will.'

Karl nodded in response.

'We called our selves visionaries, we were going to rectify the mistakes of our fathers and past generations and use our powers...' he stopped suddenly and shook his head, 'We were fools, all of us.'

'How many of you were there?' Karl enquired leaning forward in his seat.

'Seven in total. One of us each from pure bloodlines, some even descending from the founding families of our magical communities. We were young, naive. At the time the magical community was recovering from the shock and devastation of the war in the south.'

Karl nodded, twenty odd years had passed since the secret of there kind had nearly been discovered by the un-gifted and those who had tried to unveil the secret and been sentenced to death. But instead of accepting punishment quietly and with dignity, they had set in motion a chain of events which nearly wiped out a large chunk of the Un-gifted and supernatural community. Many things had been explained away as mother nature, freak accidents but the SNC knew the truth and so did a small population of the un-gifted. Karl remembered the statue his father had erected in memory of his brother and sister who had fought and lost their lives to keep their existence safe, protected.

'We thought we knew better, that the old ways were stifling and keeping us enslaved. It started as meetings, after classes, we'd discuss our grievances then move on.' George turned to the window staring into the night. 'But then it became something more. We started to dabble and read about other magic.'

'What kind of magic?' Karl frowned.

'The type if of not consequence now, although its fair to say we didn't, we shouldn't have let it get so far.'

'What happened?' Karl enquired.

'We began to practice what we read, the tattoo' George thrust out his arm for Karl's inspection, 'it started just as an immature way of showing our unity.'

'You and Marianne both had these?'

'Yes, only it was more than just a tattoo, it linked us through magic. Still does.'

'I don't understand what this has to do with Alex?' Karl focused on his friend as the pain crossed his face.

'Out of the seven of us, four remain living.'

'Who are they?'

'Myself, a Mage, a Vampire and A Shifter.'

'Names Martinez, I need names.'

'Jensen Crane the Mage, Niko is a shifter and Alistair Wentworth is-'

'The Vampire' Karl interrupted raising to his feet. Two of the names he'd just roll called were big players. He knew both by reputation. 'One of these has Alex?'

'I'm sure of it.'

'How are you so damn sure?' Karl's eyes narrowed.

'The tattoo burns when we are in close proximity, its been aggravating me for a few days but at the gala, it burned, it burns still.'

'How close is close?'

'Now, close. Same town.'

Karl paced as he took in the information. 'What the fuck were you thinking George, you could have come to me and told me before, we could have protected her and Paul, whatever he saw tonight scared him near to death. What happened between you that one of these fuckers would take Alex?'

'I...'

'Now would be a really good time to keep the momentum of being honest and open with me Martinez.'

George let out a tired sigh, 'Marianne and I...we betrayed Alistair.'

Karl lifted his jacket and shrugged it on roughly, 'I don't know what to say to you right now Martinez and quiet frankly I reining in my wolf.' He lent on the desk with both hands and bowed his head, taking a deep calming breath he straightened. 'I have to return Duncan to his family for the funeral rite but you can guarantee this isn't finished, whatever you and Marianne did, doesn't justify those kids involvement.' Karl glanced at his watch and strode across the carpet room silently before unhinging the door. 'Fucking Vampires.' He pulled the door closed leaving the room in partial darkness and George alone with his thoughts.