The GatheringFandom (is so, include details) or Non Fandom?:
Non Fandom (ie. Original)Chapter Number:
M (due to language & adult content... not entirely sure where this thing is going)Summary:
In 1692 a group of witches sacrificed their powers to prevent death. Almost 3.5 centuries later, these powers have befallen new generations. Those that would be heroes are lost. It is up to those who are left behind to save themselves & the world they're in.Author's Notes:
I think this is going to go over 20 chapters the rate I'm going.Chapter Seven
His hand held before him, David stared at the blood that coated his palm. Despite the pain he was in, it was a welcome distraction to what had occupied him earlier. He may have been powerful, but he was not invulnerable. The wound was a nice reminder of that.
“Boys?” Michael shouted. “David?”
He could have answered his father but he chose not to, remaining silent and sullen as he willed the time to pass. Footsteps sounded on the stairs outside the attic, the door creaking open as his father stepped inside.
“You didn’t answer,” Michael stated, seeing his eldest son reclining on the couch. David shrugged.
“I didn’t feel like it.”
“Where is everyone? The front door was wide open!”
“I couldn’t care,” David replied.
Frowning, Michael decided to change tact and approach his son instead. As he rounded the couch he spied the growing stain on David’s clothes and his pace quickened, dropping beside his son and placing his hands over the wound.
“What happened to you? How did you get this?” Michael queried. David locked eyes with him but didn’t respond. “You didn’t corner someone outside the club?”
“No,” David finally answered. “I wasn’t looking for a fight, it came to me.”
“Something like that.”
Exhaling a breath between his lips, Michael moved to place both hands over his son’s wound and closed his eyes. One hand lain over the over, a light white glow emanated beneath his hands healing and repairing the wound. David lifted his elbow to rest against the back of the couch, leaning his head against his hand. Being healed by his father was not a new thing to him. In fact his father was the only one thus far who had been able to do it. He had read that fallen angels, such as Michael, lost their powers and became completely mortal when they gave up the heavens for a life on earth. It appeared his father was an exception to that rule, though the only power he possessed was that of healing and it brought its own limitations – he did not have the capacity to self-heal and he could not heal others unless the injury had been caused by a supernatural essence. So breaking your leg on the basketball court, as David had done when he was sixteen, was something that had to heal by natural means. Being stabbed with a conjured knife by an assassin witch, however, classified.
“You should be okay now.”
“Now,” Michael continued, patting the edge of the couch as he stood, “we need to find your brother in case he’s in some kind of trouble.”
“I’m fine, dad.”
Entering through the open doorway, Penny shielding herself just behind his body, Christian stopped partway into the room. Michael glanced over to him, a disapproving look on his face.
“Where were you two?” he asked.
“Skate finals,” Christian offered.
“Not until two a.m. you weren’t,” Michael countered. “Why are you home so late?”
“I was home,” Penny said.
“No, you weren’t. I got here and the front door was wide open! Don’t you know how dangerous that is, leaving an open invitation for anyone and everyone? Not to mention skulking off in the middle of the night…”
“She wouldn’t have to have left if he wasn’t throwing such a temper tantrum!” Christian defended Penny, thrusting a hand towards David.
“I didn’t go anywhere near her,” David stated.
“You scared the crap out of her! What did you break, David, huh? What did you destroy? She was trying to find me to stop you!”
David lifted his left hand, a bright blue ball of light flashing into his palm. It glowed and fluctuated with electrical light – like a plasma ball shooting streams of energy to a million hands all at once.
“I didn’t do anything,” David said through gritted teeth, the ball a warning to his younger brother to end the argument. Christian, however, took it as a threat and instinctively generated one of his own. Trying to get the first blow in, he pelted the energy ball towards his brother before his brother could do the same to him. A purple shield bubbled around David and his father, disintegrating the energy ball as it crashed into the outside wall. David extinguished the energy ball in his hand, pulling the protection shield back down as his father raised both hands – one directed at him and the other at Christian.
“Stop it! Enough!” Michael commanded. “I will not have you two fighting over who did what earlier tonight!”
“But he—” Christian began.
“No! Go to your room. Penny, go to your room. I am not dealing with this anymore tonight.” He lifted a hand to a head and rubbed his temple. “I’ve got a headache enough as it is.”
Penny backed up a step and instantly fled the room. Christian’s gaze shifted between his father and his older brother. He could only see darkness and what could almost appear to be winning satisfaction in his brother’s eyes. Taking the door handle, he closed the door behind him as he left.
“I want you to go and apologise to Mr Mendel tomorrow,” Michael instructed David once they were alone again.
“I will not beg, plead or reconcile that cretin.”
“What are you going to do then?” Michael challenged. “You can’t stay locked up here forever.”
“Maybe you should have just let me perish.”
Michael raised his fingers to his eyes, sweeping them across the lids and pinching the bridge of his nose. “David, I…”
Lowering his hand he looked lost and confused. David watched his father’s eyes dart to several positions as he attempted to gather his thoughts together.
“I…” David prompted.
“I’m going to get some sleep. You should too.”
Turning, he began to make his way around the couch, faltering at the end as his legs gave way. He gripped the head of the couch as David dove forward in an attempt to grab his arm.
“What is wrong with you?” David asked.
“Nothing,” Michael responded, regaining his footing and pushing his son’s hand aside. “I’ve had a long day and an even longer night. I just need to rest.”
“Do me a favour. Try to keep out of trouble for the next few hours.”
Carefully making his way down the stairs, Michael stopped outside Penny’s room on the way back to his own and tapped lightly on the open doorway. Seated in her desk chair, she jumped at the noise, rapidly pushing down the screen of her laptop and turning the chair towards the door.
“Can I come in?” Michael asked. She nodded silently, shyly. Entering the room he took a seat on the end of her bed, within an arm’s length of her chair. “I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in all this.”
“I know,” Penny said. “I’m sorry I left the door open. I thought it had closed behind me. I was in such a hurry to get out… I guess I was wrong.”
She looked down at her feet, kicking the legs of the chair. Her hands sat rigid on the chair edge, lightly gripping the soft foam.
“You need to be more careful, Penny. That’s all I’m saying. All of us are under constant threat because of who we are. It’s only more dangerous when you’re sharing a home with one of the most powerful witches in existence.”
“He is the threat,” she stated.
“He was attacked tonight,” Michael countered. Penny looked up, her eyes wide. “I could have lost him as well. I’m doing my best to keep the three of you safe, but I’m only one man… and I’m not even a witch. I don’t have the wealth of powers you do. I need you to look out for each other.”
“I promise, I’ll keep a better eye on them,” she said. Michael smiled, patting her knee and standing. He made his way back to the door. “Goodnight, Uncle Mike. And thanks.”
“For what?” he asked, turning to look back at her.
“For looking after me,” she replied.
She crawled onto her bed and waited until she heard his door close down the hallway before she left her own room for Christian’s. The light was already out in his room, but the door was wide open. He was in his bed, face turned up towards the ceiling. Creeping into the darkness, she sat on the edge next to his body.
“You awake?” she whispered.
“Unless I’ve learnt to sleep with my eyes open, yeah,” he answered.
“What did you mean earlier when you said I wouldn’t have to worry about David anymore?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“Because Uncle Mike said someone tried to kill him,” she explained. Awaiting a response she became increasingly disturbed with his silence. “Chris?”
“Well I did try with that energy ball…” he said after some thought.
“No, I think he meant earlier than that,” Penny said. Still she received no answer from her cousin. “Does this have anything to do with those two assassins you met tonight? And remember, you can’t lie to me. I can read your mind.”
She wasn’t exaggerating nor joking when she threatened those last few words. Telepathy was Penny’s strongest power – a production of the mind and an inherent strain from her mother. Where Carla had been able to connect with the future, Penny could connect with the present.
“I didn’t ‘hire’ anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just told them that we needed to stop him.”
“Which is not at all the same thing,” Penny stated with every indication that it was.
“Well it’s not like I said go kill my brother tonight.”
“You can be a complete dumbass sometimes, Chris. No wonder Justin thought you were being stupid.”
“What?” Christian said, lifting himself into a sitting position in the bed. “He didn’t say that.”
“No, not in so many words. But it was obvious he didn’t agree with what you did tonight.”
“I saved his ass. He should be grateful.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about striking a deal with two assassins to sort out your problems with your brother. What do you think is going to happen after they finally do away with him? They’ll be hunting you down for some generous payment which you can’t afford. Uncle Mike will be heartbroken and hating you more.”
“Thanks, Penny. Are you trying to give me more of a complex over David being the favourite son?”
“I’m trying to bring you back to reality here. You’re playing with life and death, Christian. You’ve made this worse than just a family dispute. You’ve got other people involved now, dangerous people. You don’t get to play God. Call the killers off before something bad happens and you live to regret it.”
“Okay! Okay! I’ll talk to them tomorrow. If I can find them, that is.”
“Pen, they’re masters of stealth. I don’t know where they base themselves. We only crossed paths by accident tonight.”
“Don’t you have something you can scry for them with? A piece of cloth? A lock of hair?”
“Maybe there’s something on my jacket,” Christian conceded. Penny’s posture relaxed, her expression looking more hopeful. “I’ll look when it’s lighter. There’s no point in trying to find something now and going back to the attic to fight with David more just so I can scry for someone who I might have potentially told to kill him. I’m sure he’d be more than welcoming and understanding of that.”
Penny gave him a sidelong glance at his sarcastic tone but ultimately understood where he was coming from. There was no chance that David or even Michael would allow either of them back into the attic tonight, and even if she did have some kind of reprieve she wasn’t quite so confidant on venturing up there on her own. It would have to wait until the morning where, hopefully, David would venture out to some other haunt other than his own private domain, and she and Christian would be able to scry for the two assassins without any trouble. She could only hope that trouble would stay confined until they had enough time to do what they needed to do in the morning.
“Don’t look so worried,” Christian tried to console her. “It’s not like anything else is going to happen tonight. Witches aren’t inhuman. We need sleep too.”
She nudged him slightly as he dropped his head back onto the pillow, then drew away to retire to her own room and see how well she could convince herself to sleep the small handful of hours until morning after the night’s events had already shaken her into some kind of insomnia.