…..CHAPTER 12…..
Isaac woke when Veronica shifted in the bed beside him. She gave a sleepy murmur and snuggled closer. He drew away, sitting up on the side of the bed, feeling like a complete asshole.
He shouldn’t have done that last night; he should’ve known better, in fact he did. Veronica had been chasing him for months and he’d finally given in. But there were no real feelings coming from his side.
Surely a harmless, no-strings-attached romp in bed was fine…as long as both parties understood that.
But for her, she was interested in a relationship in a way he never would be, not with her. And now he knew it for sure. And it certainly didn’t help that he’d slept with Veronica with the face of that cute little witch at the Donovan house filling his head.
That’d been fun, digging up the name of the people living in that house.
By the time he got home last night after hours of searching, it was late enough that Veronica had arrived from her shift, wanting to crash on the couch so she didn’t have to drive too tired. They’d both been tired. And he’d caved.
God, I’m a fucking jerk.
Guilt washed through him. “Dammit,” he whispered.
“Hmmm?” she murmured.
“Nothing. I’m going for a shower.”
“Can I join you?” she teased, voice still low with sleep.
“No, I need to hurry. I’ve an errand to run before I head in to work. Need to talk to Dillon.”
She made a vaguely discontented sound.
“I’m sorry about last night, Veronica.”
“I’m not. Why are you?”
Reluctantly he looked down at her. “I know you’ve been chasing me.”
“It’s about time you noticed.”
Annoyed, he shook his head. “I noticed months ago.”
She sat up, brows pulled into a puzzled look. “Then why didn’t you say something?”
Isaac looked away. “Because I wasn’t interested.”
She drew away. “And last night you were?” Her tone held no expression. It didn’t even sound like a question.
Isaac scrubbed his face. “We’ve been friends for years, Ronnie. I didn’t want to fuck it up, but I wondered if maybe going forward would open something up between us.”
“Did it?”
“No.” He wasn’t gonna lie or avoid this any more.
Veronica snorted. “You should’ve said something, jerk.”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m sorry. My only excuse is that I got tired of thinking and just went for it.”
“Oh well,” she said with a single shoulder shrug.
Isaac turned his face back to her.
Veronica was one of the most laid-back people he’d ever met. Pretty much his opposite. Even her Water magic was his opposite. “It’s alright, Isaac,” she said, running a hand through her hair, snagging on tangles. “I forgive your lack of communication and sleeping with me just for experimental reasons.”
Isaac winced, then laughed uncomfortably. “God, that makes it sound even worse.”
“No, it makes it sound like exactly what it is.”
He looked away, self-disgust roiling through him. “Yeah.”
“Hurry up. I want one, too, and if you don’t get yours done, I’m showering with you anyway, shower-sex or not.”
Isaac bathed, dressed while she was in the bathroom, and left his and Wallace’s apartment, driving his scooter toward the headquarters of the Federal Bureau of Witchcraft & Registry. He parked on the street rather than in the lot and left his helmet on to conceal himself. He took out his cell, tapping up a game and sat there, playing and watching at the same time.
He didn’t have to wait long. The gray sedan arrived and parked, the big brown man got out, and so did an even bigger white man. The two walked together into the building, their shoulders brushing.
Isaac frowned. Where was the witch? He’d thought perhaps the witch and his Handler were an item. If they weren’t, they were close, no question. True affection was there. He’d seen it.
These two men though, were clearly intimate… Huh. He caught the flash of silver on the left ring finger of the white man just as he let go of the door and entered.
Married. So how did that witch play a role? Was the Handler cheating on his husband with the witch? Isaac scowled down at his phone as his character died. He didn’t bother reloading, mind lost in thought as he pocketed his phone.
The Donovan situation from last night blew his mind. Prime level witches were supposed to be a myth, at least to the layman, to society at large. Isaac knew better. All of his people knew there were seven Primes world-wide. But that witch…there was no question he was a Parallel at least, but Isaac was certain he was a Prime. He made eight.
Sitting there, lost in thought, he couldn’t wait to talk to Dillon. So many options… He wanted to find out what the older man knew about Primes, and then he was going to see what his boss thought about talking to the witch. He had to either try to convince the witch to join them, or find out anything he could to neutralize the witch’s threat to their cause.
Isaac heard a laugh and glanced at the building.
The two men were poised on each side of that damn Tame, who walked with crutches, wearing shorts even in the cold air, his heavily bandaged and braced leg clearly the reason for lack of long pants. Isaac winced, remembering the blood and his limp. Both men helped Oliver, hovering like…like…
Good grief, a threesome?
No. It didn’t feel intimate. It felt like…
Brothers. They were treating that fucking Tame like a kid brother, scolding, razzing, and all.
“Well, alrighty then,” he muttered. Neutralization it is.
Oliver looked up at him, eyes sharp even at this distance and Isaac stiffened. He started his scooter immediately, checked traffic and slid from his parking spot on the street, not looking at them as he drove away—quickly, but not in a I’m-a-criminal-running-from-the-law kind of way.
He could swear he felt his eyes on him the whole way out of sight.
Isaac gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to neutralize the man. He’d let Isaac go, let the others at the catchment go.
Was he working to free witches, too? Not the first time he’d wondered this. Oliver had clearly wanted those witches out of the catchment, and he’d given Isaac time… Yet he’d kept most of the witches. Why?
Because he had to protect his cover, Isaac realized. He couldn’t overtly let them go, had let the ones go that he could, but kept most when time ran out, keeping his cover.
Isaac scowled. Maybe neutralization wasn’t the answer then.
That Tame One had to be watched, followed, his actions parsed and scrutinized.
Isaac wasn’t ready yet to give the go ahead to take Oliver out.
And if the witch of the Director himself was working undercover to help free witches, and if he was like a brother to his Handler and Handler’s husband… Maybe all three were working in some sort of underground group inside the FBW&R.
Isaac firmly restrained the excitement that thought caused. He had to confirm this line. No leaping into this without firm proof.
His helmet rang and he pushed the button, the link to his phone clicking. “Hello?”
“Isaac, can you come in today? I could use the help.”
“Yeah, Dillon, I was coming in anyway. I’ve got some news and a new line of inquiry.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve discovered a very powerful Parallel for certain, but I think he’s a hidden Prime.”
Dillon was quiet for a beat. “Really?” he murmured, sounding intrigued.
“Did you see the news yesterday?” Because Dillon had been out of town, he hadn’t had a chance to tell him about it.
“Oh yeah. A new and powerful witch killed her father and tore up their house. Although she’s an adult, soooo…not really new.”
“I was there watching. Same witch that was at the catchment.”
“And that’s who you think is a Prime?” his voice had tightened with concern.
Isaac nodded like an idiot inside his helmet. Dillon couldn’t see his nod, what the hell? “Yeah. And get this. He’s the witch of the Director of the FBW&R himself.”
“Oh shit,” he breathed.
Yup, Dillon was low-key freaking out. No one would know it but those who were close to the man.
The tapping of keys on a keyboard reached him.
He didn’t want his boss jumping the gun. “Hold up, Dillon. I have an idea. I watched the Director, I watched the witch…”
“His name is Oliver,” Dillon said, voice already calming down.
Isaac paused. “Good to know. I assume you just googled the shit out of that.” He intentionally hadn’t told Dillon that information yet, wanting a little space of time…
Dillon laughed but didn’t answer.
“Yeah. Get this. I suspect the Prime is emotionally close to the Director and his husband. They act like fucking brothers.”
“It’s not unheard of for Handlers to have genuine feelings for their witches, or vice versa, Isaac,” he chided.
“I know,” he growled.
“Good.” Dillon’s voice came out firmly satisfied, almost pugnacious.
Their disagreements on this subject were legion, and he didn’t have time to argue right now. “My point is, I told you how the Ta…how Oliver let us escape.”
“Yes.”
“If Oliver let us escape—and he clearly wanted those witches released, all of them—but he let me escape with what I had but didn’t let me take more… He was allowing my escape, but he was also hiding his own collusion. Fuck. The more I think about it, the more I realize he was doing exactly that…allowing me to go.” Isaac gave his head a shake and returned to topic. “If he was hiding my escape, then perhaps he’s working on our side. Or rather, parallel.” Isaac gave the last word emphasis, and Dillon chuckled at the pun.
“Hmmm…so you want us to research the witch and his family.”
“Yes. If they’re doing liberation work, maybe we can get them on our side. Could they be in a hidden cell of the Fray?”
“I know of three cells myself, ours included. Of course it’s possible there are more out there.”
“But inside the FBW&R?”
“It would take balls to do it, but yeah, I could see someone forming one inside. It would be risky but worth it.”
“Even if they aren’t part of the Fray, they may be sympathetic to our cause. They clearly love that witch. Maybe we can convince them.”
“Some who love their witches may not be on our side, you know. There are plenty who care about their servants but don’t necessarily want to free them.”
“Yes, I know that, too, Dillon,” he said impatiently. “But this is an avenue I want to explore. We have a huge potential to take advantage of here, if it turns out to be true.”
“Hmmm… I do, too.”
Isaac wasn’t fooled. He hadn’t had to say a word to convince Dillon. His friend already wanted to examine this before Isaac had said a word about finding out more.
Dillon continued, “the Director himself and a Prime on our side would buck up our more hesitant helpers and might just convince more to join us. They could be invaluable.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“When will you be here?”
“Ten minutes out.”
“I’ll have Delilah join us.”
“Got it.” He ended the call on a wince of guilt. Veronica’s mom would come unglued if she found out about last night. Hopefully Veronica wouldn’t blab.
He winced again. No hope there. She was as breezy with her words as she was with her love life.
What had he been thinking, sleeping with her? He shouldn’t have given in. Isaac sighed, preparing himself for the much deserved scolding.
As he drove, though, his mind turned back to the Tame witch. To Oliver, and the potential threat or potential ally the man could be.
Mostly he frowned at a niggling feeling.
Why did the man seem familiar?