Finding His Mate Ch. 05

Standing outside the storefront, she takes a bite of the pizza and moans. "Oh, my goodness. Madison was right about this pizza."

"I'm glad you like it." She quickly turns around to the owner of the voice and smiles.

"Oh, hey, Daniel."

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I can't seem to hear you over your full mouth."

Tiffany playfully slaps him on the chest with her free hand and continues chewing her food. "Oh, shut up. What are you doing here? I would suspect a man of your stature to avoid these lower parts of the city."

"Well, I own the place."

Raising her eyebrows, she starts to apologize, but he stops her. "No need. I recognize the humor in your statement."

She wipes her mouth with her napkin and throws her trash away in a nearby garbage can. "Well, I'm glad you did because my apology wasn't going to be sincere." She looks up at the sign and whistles. "Devil's Alley. Where did you come up with that name?"

He hesitates for a moment before answering. "I guess you can say it's something I take close to heart."

Tiffany frowns her face. "That's interesting. I've never met a fanboy of devil's. I'm assuming it's something abstract that my none artsy mind can't handle?"

They both chuckle a bit, and then silence falls between them. His attention hasn't wavered from her, which makes Tiffany a bit uneasy. There's something about him that isn't normal.

She opens her mouth to speak but is beaten by him. "Would you like to get a drink?"

Tiffany looks off to the side briefly, thinking of what to say. On the one hand, she would love to have a drink with him, as he's an odd but intriguing person. However, on the other hand, he's odd and intriguing, which is slightly off-putting. Even when they first met in the coffee shop, he was borderline strange. The way he stared at her then is the exact way he's staring at her now.

Clearing her throat, she shrugs her shoulders. "Why not? I'm never one to not take up an offer for a few free drinks. Lead the way."

She waits for his lead and follows closely beside him. As they're walking to their destination, she takes the moment of silence between them to take in his presence, which is very commanding. So much so that the people walking in the opposite direction are parting like the Red Sea.

They turn the corner, and she sighs under her breath in relief when she sees the bar. For a minute, she thought he was leading her to her death. He opens the door for her, which she thanks and walks through. Looking around, she spots an open booth and leads the way.

"So, I'm assuming you come here often?" Tiffany takes off her coat and places it beside her, looking around for a waitress. The sooner she can get more liquor in her system, the better. The wine she had earlier with Madison is wearing off, and her nervousness is beginning to peak.

"Uh-I guess you can say I'm a regular."

"You guess? That's an interesting way of just saying 'yes'".

The waitress walks over and takes their order, interrupting their conversation.

"Was there any part of my statement that suggested the answer wasn't 'yes'?"

Tiffany narrows her eyes a bit. Not him being slick with his words. Based on the look he's giving her, he knows what he's doing. Their drinks arrive, to which they both take a sip. Placing her glass on the table, she clears her throat.

"So, Daniel. Tell me more about yourself. Beyond being one of the greatest art directors and part-time pizza shop owner, what else do you do?" She leans forward on the table, waiting for his answer.

He flashes his bright teeth and takes a sip of his drink. "Well... what do you want to know?"

"For starters, I know your name isn't Daniel."

He smirks, then looks around the bar. "And how do you know this?"

Tiffany leans back and shrugs her shoulders. "I guess you can say I just guessed, and you confirmed. So. What's your real name?" She waits patiently and observes him closely.

Clearing his throat, he looks over at her. "Danatrov. Danatrov Tazot."

"Danatrov Tazot. I assume you're related to Azeil."

He doesn't reply but instead continues staring at her, which is all the answer she needs.

"And what are you doing following Madison, Danatrov?"

"You knew who I was back at the coffee shop, didn't you?"

Tiffany cooly laughs and takes another sip of her drink. "I... had my suspicions. It doesn't help that you look exactly like your older-" She stops when he rolls his eyes and laughs. "I'm sorry, younger, brother. So. Why are you following Madison?"

Danatrov leans back and tilts his head. "That's interesting that you're aware I'm following Madison. Wouldn't this mean that you're following her as well?"

Tiffany narrows her eyes. "It's my duty to protect her, and I will do so by all means necessary."

The air between them begins to thicken as they continue staring at each other. Tiffany searches his eyes for any indication of how he's feeling but finds nothing in them. He has a good poker face, but she's not about to back down from him.

"What are you?"

Tiffany chuckles a bit and looks down into her glass. "Interesting, because I have the same question for you. Obviously, you're part Were, but... I sense something else as well."

Danatrov nods his head. "You're correct there."

Tiffany waits for him to continue and smiles once he doesn't. He's playing his cards right now, which makes her wonder what he's withholding from her.

"So you're not going to tell me?"

Danatrov shrugs his shoulder and sips his drink. "Well, that depends..."

"On?..."

"You and your loyalty to Madison."

"But this isn't about my loyalty to Madison. It's about yours. Mines make sense. Yours... not so much."

She looks over and says thanks to the waitress, who replaces their drinks, then returns her attention to Danatrov. What is it that he knows about Madison, and why does he feel the need to pledge allegiance to her? He feels some kind of connection to Madison. However, the question is, what and where did it come from?

Tiffany continues. "I'll ask again only once. Why are you following her?"

He looks down into his glass as if his answer is somewhere within the depths of the brown liquid in it. "Madison's mother, Zimara. She saved me from a place synonymous with hell. For that, I am forever indebted to her and her liege."

Tiffany looks into his eyes and sees the truth behind what he says. She watches him closely as he takes a sip of his drink and settles into her seat.

"How long have you been looking after her?"

"Since she moved here. There were talks within the Vamp community of the Moor Witch's offspring moving to town, and I immediately knew who they were referring to. I also knew that with this, I needed to protect her."

Tiffany frowns her face and shakes her head. "Vamps were speaking on Madison? How so? Nobody kno-". She stops mid-sentence as the pieces start to connect. "Do you know him? Ryan?"

Danatrov scuffs then nods his head. "Know him? His name isn't Ryan. It's Rathu. Rathu Simout. Created by the Head Count of the Mael Clan himself. He's powerful beyond measure and cunning. He knows Madison's true nature and is planning something. What exactly I'm unsure of."

Tiffany looks down into her glass and curses under her breath. She knew there was something off about Ryan but continued to play nice with him for the sake of Madison. To know Ryan would've gone under the radar longer had she and Danatrov never crossed paths doesn't sit well with her. Or, perhaps, she wasn't supposed to know until meeting Danatrov.

"I wouldn't beat myself up about it if I were you. Rathu has his ways of existing unseen."

"That's easy for you to say." She paused for a moment before continuing. "Ry-Rathu. You know him?"

His body tenses up. "Not personally. However, I know his creator. He was a very sick man with a very twisted way of thinking. Like most sick fucks, he believed Vampires are superior and that all other species needed to be eradicated. He would... experiment on every species, including Vampires, with hopes of discovering how to create shape-shifters."

"Shape-shifters? I thought their existence was a myth?"

Danatrov shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. He believed that they still existed. I'm not sure the validity of if."

Tiffany slowly nods her head. This is new to her. All of this. "So what? He had a superlab with chemicals and blood?"

Danatrov nods his head. "Sort of. He had this ancient book and staff."

"Staff?"

"Yes. Staff."

"The Tazot staff?" Tiffany leans forward, waiting for his reply. The Tazot staff is the only staff she's aware of that has such power to create, or re-create, a species.

Danatrov shakes his head. "No. The Tazot staff didn't exist back then. The creation of the Tazot staff was out of necessity."

"So you're saying there's something else out there? Another one?"

"I-I don't know. My worry is that there is. I know Zimara entrusted that staff to the Tazot clan. However, the idea that there's another one that can emit such great power..." He stops what he's saying then looks down.

Tiffany can feel something shift inside of him. "You... you were one of his victims?" He doesn't look up at her. She leans back into the booth and sighs. "I-I'm so sorry."

Danatrov clears his throat and takes back the rest of his drink. "No need." He looks at her cooly, his eyes never blinking and not once leaving to look elsewhere.

She wonders what's on his mind. While she would like to dig deeper, she can feel he's not going to give up any more details and makes a mental note. She's waiting for him to ask her questions, but he seems content with being the one questioned instead of being the interrogator.

She clears her throat and changes the topic. "So. You're not going to ask me any questions?" The waitress once again replaces their empty glasses. Tiffany can feel the effects of the alcohol kicking, calming her nerves.

Danatrov shakes his head. "It seems you would like me to ask you something."

Tiffany shrugs her shoulders. "I mean, why not? We're here. I know who you are. You have a little clue of who and what I am. It's odd to me you don't want to push further."

"I like for things to flow naturally. I'm sure I'll learn more about you in the future."

The look in his eyes changes as he drinks his liquor, causing a shiver to run up her spine. He has the stare down-pact. The one that can put anybody being in a trance.

She clears her throat, then smiles. "Ah. So you believe this," she points between them, "will go further?"

"I know this will go further, as do you."

"And how would I know this?"

Danatrov tilts his head to the side. "I have a feeling you're more in tune with... the earth than you make yourself out to be. You're a superior being if you've pledged your allegiance to Madison. This brings me to the conclusion that you must know Madison better than Madison knows Madison. In this, you must also know her mother." He pauses before continuing. "While my time with Zimara wasn't all rainbows and fairytales, I know she wouldn't entrust just anyone with her daughter."

Tiffany waits for a moment before responding. "You like to talk in circles just as much as Azeil and Mira do. Interesting trait you all have."

"Why did you intentionally catch my eye at the coffee shop?"

"Intentionally? Boy, please. You're fine, but not that fine." Tiffany watches him chuckle and rolls her eyes. Cockiness must run in the family as well.

"Yes. Intentional. You don't think I believe our meeting was a coincidence, do you? Just as much as you knew me, while I might've not known you, I knew at that moment that the only answer was to say yes to you."

He stares at her, waiting for her reply. Judging by their current interaction, she's sure she won't be able to lie to him. He's intuitive. While he won't explicitly state his question, it's clear he's searching for answers.

"No. I don't."

"Then, I'll ask you again. Why did you intentionally catch my eye at the coffee shop?"

She stares down into her glass before looking back up at him. "Let's just say this chapter between you, Madison, and the Tazot Clan has already been written. I'm just here to see it through."

"See it through?"

Tiffany nods her head. "Yes. See it through. Just as you continue to live in the shadows as to not interrupt your brother or sister, I too live in the shadows as to not interrupt fate."

"So you do know this thing between us will go further."

Tiffany recognizes what he said wasn't a question, and smugly smiles. "Why don't we close this chapter out first, yes?"

They both lift their glasses and clink them together in agreement. Tiffany is about to say more when her phone rings.

"What's up, Maddy?"

"Get over here now!"

Hanging up her phone, Tiffany looks at Danatrov, who has a worried expression on his face. "We have to go."

************

Azeil walks into his office and nods his head at Gino. Gino has been waiting for his arrival since his call a few hours back, and by the way, he's pacing the office; Azeil can tell whatever news he has is important.

Settling behind his desk, he takes in a deep breath. "Okay. What's up?"

Gino stops his pacing and stops in front of Azeil. Azeil watches as Gino navigates through his phone, then stops and shows him the screen.

"Oh, fuck."

"Yeah."

"When was he found?"

"Tonight. I've had our men scoping out the place since you're little scuffle with him. Someone noticed there hasn't been much activity inside and went in to figure out what's going on. Found him in pieces. Seems Rathu has moved his operations elsewhere."

Azeil looks back down at the cellphone screen and groans. He's never had to deal with something like this since his ordination as Alpha. He isn't sure how to let the pack know there was an attack on a pack member by a Vampire nonetheless.

"Fuck!" He slams his hand on the desk. "Fucking Moe."

Gino sits down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and sighs. "His body is in the morgue. Nobody knows of what's happened just yet, and I've instructed the men to keep their mouths sealed until told otherwise."

"Good. Good. Keep this hush for the time being until I can figure out what's going on. Rathu's once again ten steps ahead of us. Do you know where he's moved?"

Gino shakes his head. "No clue just yet. Honestly, he moves quickly."

"Yeah... That's what he does." Azeil pinches the bridge of his nose. Where is Rathu? He's sure he hasn't given up his apartment just yet, so that's a plus. However, there's only so much information he can collect from the confines of Madison's apartment. If there's one thing he's learned from Rathu, it's that hiding in plain sight is critical. He must be working with someone else.

"I'll keep tabs on him via Madison. I'm not sure where he can be right now that isn't in the middle of nowhere, so for now, let's keep on guard for something next. I don't think he'll do anything just yet tho-" A knock at the door interrupts him. "Come in."

"Sir."

Azeil waves his hand at James, signaling for him to enter. Looking back at Gino, he continues what he was saying. "I don't think he'll do anything yet, but we should prepare for the worst."

Gino nods his head and rises from his chair, heading to the exit.

Azeil looks back at James and sighs. "Have a seat." He shuffles in the top drawer of his desk, trying to find the piece of paper with the drawing of Madison's emblem. Once he sees it, he places it on his desk and moves it closer to James.

"My mate, Madison, I believe she's a witch. Well... not any witch, a direct descendant of Zimara."

James' eyes grow big once he hears what Azeil says. "Zimara. The Zimara?"

Azeil nods his head, then watches James closely as he inspects his drawing of Madison's emblem. He's hoping James will be able to put together the pieces to this now very intricate puzzle.

"I'm sorry, what exactly am I looking at?"

Azeil shakes his head, then sighs. "My apologies, James. This is an emblem Madison wears around her neck. She states her mother gave it to her. I can confirm that her mother is indeed Zimara. Also, it... lit up while we were intimate and she started speaking what I can assume is an ancient language."

James nods his head slowly. "I see." He brings the piece of paper closer, examining more of the detail before placing it on Azeil's desk. Azeil can feel the energy in the room shift.

"What's wrong?"

Taking off his glasses, James places them on Azeil's desk, then runs his hand over this face. "I-I don't know what to say, sir. While it's factual that the emblem is from the Moor, I can't come to the full conclusion that this necessarily means Madison is a descendant, let alone the daughter of Zimara."

Azeil furrows his eyebrows. "What do you mean, exactly?"

James hesitates for a moment, trying to find the correct words. "It means that Zimara couldn't have children. No witch can. Witches aren't birthed, but instead, they're chosen. The story goes that when Zimara first touched foot on this Earth, she cast a spell that essentially activated other witches around the Earth."

"So every witch is a Moor Witch?", Azeil asks.

James shakes his head. "No. That's where the idea of covens comes from. Covens are designed to be a grouping of witches from the same region. The witch lineage is complicated. Each witch was created by Zimara. However, each witch isn't a descendant of the Moor Witches. Only a select few are."

"A select few?" James nods his head.

"Yes. To be honest, this has never been explained, and I'm not sure if we'll ever know how the Witches of The Moor came to be or why they are so vastly different from the others. Their powers are... extraordinary."

"They? So there are other known Moor Witches?"

James hesitates. "Well... not exactly. It's speculation that there are more based upon sightings of them. It's never been confirmed."

Azeil shakes his head. Nothing about this makes sense. How is it Zimara was the first Witch who created other witches? However, she practically has sisters nobody knows about?

"Let's take a step back. We have Zimara, who is the queen and creator of all witches. However, you're telling me she named her coven 'The Moor', and there are only a select few witches who were of the said coven. Those select few had extraordinary powers, and it's never been explained how the rest of the witches were chosen. Additionally, it's never been confirmed." He waits for James' confirmation before continuing. "So in reality, we don't even know if there were other Moor Witches, do we? For all we know, that in and of itself could've been a myth."

James hesitates before shaking his head slowly. "Technically, yes. Bu-"

"Technicality is all we have right now, James. The pieces... don't fit. Suppose you're saying there's a fifty-fifty chance that Zimara may or may not have sisters. In that case, you're then leading me to question Zimara's creation, which we don't know about. I can't imagine that she could singlehandedly create Witches as powerful as her in addition to just creating witches."

He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. Here he is again without a clue about what's going on. He was expecting this to be straight forward. If Zimara created witches, where did she learn how to create a species, and ultimately, who created her?

"Okay. Let's just take this one step at a time and try to figure out Madison first. We can get to Zimara at a later date. Is there a way that Zimara could have figured out how to conceive? With her strength, I can't imagine that she couldn't have."

"Well...technically yes, bu-"

"Again, James, we have to assume that technicalities are factual at this point."

James nods his head and continues. "She could've figured out how to conceive or even been the only witch who could. This would mean that she was, in fact, an isolated case, or this could mean that she or someone else intentionally took away witches' ability to bear children."