A/N: I can't believe we're already ten chapters in. I hope you like this one!
Chapter Ten:
Her heart stilled. The footsteps she'd heard earlier, had slowed to a halt directly in front of the table under which she was now trembling. For one fleeting moment, she convinced herself that she had simply fallen asleep on the couch and that this was all just a bad dream. But even in her worst dreams, there was a ray of hope. A silver lining in the clouds through which she was able to weave a rope and climb her way out of whatever cold, dark thoughts had festered in her subconscious late that night.
To her complete and utter horror, this night was quite real.
There was no hope.
There was no silver lining.
There was only the door and the tall, hooded intruder in front of her.
"I know you're in here," he stated, cutting a hole through the veil of silence in the kitchen, his voice calm and steady and familiar.
Apart from Kharon, there was only one person at Afterlife who had always rubbed Anna the wrong way. Ian.
There was just something about the way he had looked at her the night they had first met, the manner in which his eyes had quickly zeroed in on her in that dark, crowded space. At the time she had assumed he was only trying to do his job. Keep an eye on the goings on of the nightclub … take note of any women the owner might wish to summon to the third floor.
But there was more to it.
From the start, there had always been more to it.
Setting aside those fears, Anna squeezed her quivering lips together to keep from making a sound, tears now rolling down her cheeks and clinging to her chin.
In front of her, Ian stepped closer to the table, the weight of boots pounding in the depths of the barista's chest as she held her breath.
"It's a shame it had to come down to this," he went on to say. "I promise I'll make it quick when the time comes."
Without meaning to she choked, releasing her breath just as he reached under the table and yanked her out by the scruff of her neck.
"Let go of me!" she shouted, her cheeks glistening in tears.
In a matter of seconds Ian slammed her down against the table, pressing the tip of his knife to her neck as the second guy came racing into the kitchen.
"Found her," Ian said through his teeth, locking her in position and muffling her screams with his other hand. "Get the car … and the rope."
Swallowing the lump of panic in her throat, Hermione opened her text messages to let Malfoy know what was going on.
Suddenly the room was filled with the sound of her fingertips tapping against her phone.
From: Rose
Yash isn't here.
There's blood on the floor.
It's still wet.
She took a deep breath once she pressed send, eyes glued to her phone as she waited for a reply. There was no telling how far Malfoy had driven away, whether he was anywhere near The Morning Fields. The longer Hermione stood there waiting, the harder it was for her to keep calm and to assess the situation like the Auror she was known to be.
Kneeling down, she snapped a couple of more photographs of the blood spatter, only then taking notice of the footprints along the dirt-ridden floors.
There were four sets.
The first two sets were identical. The same boots, in roughly the same size, and with only a foot of distance between them at all times, as though they'd arrived and left together. Not a trace of struggle.
The Collective.
Kharon's men, perhaps?
The third set was different. This person had entered the room and paced for a good, long moment in front of the window, as if waiting for something or someone. At a certain point, they had abruptly turned around to face the door and either fallen, or been forced down by sets one and two.
Going by the markings in the dirt, there was a scuffle.
More than a scuffle.
This person had been beaten and dragged out of the room, most likely in an unconscious state.
Yash.
Unthinkingly wiping the sweat on her forehead with the back of her left hand, Hermione shifted her attention to the fourth and final set of footprints.
It was this very set of footprints that she hadn't noticed at first. Apart from her own set, the fourth set was noticeably lighter than the others, as though this person had made an effort to soften their movements as to not create any noise.
She followed their path from the door, to the wall of photographs and the blood spatter, to the shadows on the other side of the room.
At first she thought she had missed something. The other sets had all trailed in and out of the room in some fashion, but the fourth set had completely vanished into the shadows.
Slowly retracing the footprints, Hermione used her phone for light, illuminating the path in front of her only to halt mid-step once she had reached the end. Chest pounding inside her clothes, she quietly glanced up to find a closet.
The door was old, chipped and barely standing.
Were it not for the fresh, clean markings in the dirt, she'd have assumed the closet hadn't been opened in years.
Grasping her phone tightly in her hand, Hermione did exactly as Malfoy had taught her.
She thought of her first taste of magic, the feeling of it as it had rushed through every inch of her body that day at the park.
She thought of the day she had received her acceptance letter into Hogwarts, the day she had learned she was different from the other children in the neighbourhood.
She thought of the day she had met Harry and Ron for the first on the train, the way they'd looked at her as though she were a crazy person, which she to admit she kind of was at that point.
She thought of all of their little and not-so-little adventures that had followed, the ups and downs of living through her adolescence during the Second Wizarding War, and the time that Ron had asked her to be his girlfriend.
Most of all, she thought of the candlelight vigil they'd held for those who had fallen during the war, and the faint echo of a certain young man's footsteps as he'd followed her into the depths of the castle, demanding to know why she had vouched for him to the Wizengamot when he had only ever been cruel to her.
There was pain in his eyes that day.
A depth to him that she had no idea existed.
A depth she'd felt just a couple of hours ago.
In the space of just one second, Hermione gathered every ounce of emotion attached to those memories — the good, the bad, the dark, the light, the blazing hot and the frigid cold — and immediately yanked the door open with one hand, tightening her fingers around her wand with the other, only to freeze.
Standing there in all black, hand grazing the grip of his weapon as though he were ready to draw it depending on her reaction, was Thomas.
Anna's boyfriend.
An Afterlife bouncer.
A known member of The Collective.
Hermione fell silent, hand behind her back, knuckles nearly tearing through her skin from how hard she was grasping her wand.
There was a chance her magic would never have worked either way, but her instincts were that of an Auror.
They'd always been that way.
She'd always been that way.
In that moment, her instincts told her to stand down.
With a deep, shaky breath, Hermione looked to him for a solid ten seconds before slowly, tentatively letting go of her wand at the same that he let go of his weapon.
Going by the outline of it in his pocket, she gathered it was a small, handheld firearm.
"Where is he?" Hermione demanded without wasting another second.
Without a word, the bouncer stepped closer to her, the steadiness in his gaze, penetrating her thick, outer layers before he finally said something. "I'm only going to ask you once," he uttered, speaking directly into her ear. "What are you?"
Her stomach tightened in response. "S-sorry?"
Before the word had so much as escaped her lips, Thomas withdrew his weapon and pointed the muzzle directly to her skull. "I'll give you ten seconds to answer. One, two …"
"Y-you're not actually going to shoot," she blurted, sweating in places she didn't think possible.
"Three, four …"
"You'd have shot me on the spot if you had any intention of doing so."
His throat clenched around the breath that he'd angrily forced down. "Five, six …"
"I know a trigger happy soldier when I see one. Believe me."
"Seven, eight …" he continued through his teeth, flicking the safety off.
Tensing up now, Hermione ran through every path she could have taken in that moment, before finally settling on the last and most dangerous one. "You'll never pull the trigger."
"Nine …"
"Because you know exactly what I am … and you know there's nothing I can do so long as that ring is your finger …"
"Ten," he uttered at last, the tip of his finger grazing the trigger as the words she had said, slowly settled into the depths of his every thought and his every fear.
Hermione squeezed her eyes closed, holding her breath as she waited for whatever decision he'd made, to come to life.
It was a risk.
A massive risk.
A stupid, thoughtless risk.
For all she knew, he was still working for Kharon, and he'd been told to hide in that closet until Yash's contact had arrived. Surely if they'd found the bartender, they had also found his phone and found every text that he'd sent and received, including the one where she'd agreed to meet him at The Morning Fields that very night.
She could almost hear her partner's voice, the outrage in it as he expressed to her just how stupid she was for not simply running away.
How dare you risk your life?
How dare you risk the mission?
How dare you tell me to be safe when you're standing there with a weapon to your head?!
It was only in that moment that she realized just how badly she wanted to see him again, to sit with him in the car as he steered through the dark, glistening streets of Vancouver, the hum of music filling those long but comfortable gaps of silence between them.
Only as Thomas lowered his weapon, did Hermione snap out of it.
She glanced to him, traces of shock in her expression. "You didn't shoot."
"No," he stated, plainly. "Not yet."
Draco pulled his car to a stop, a safe distance away from the warehouse.
Somewhere along the line, he'd lost service on his phone. As it turned out, the warehouse was in the middle of nowhere, and the provider for their new phones was complete and utter shit. He figured it would be okay to have a quick look around the outside of the warehouse, for ten or for fifteen minutes at the most, before driving back to The Morning Fields.
The last thing Granger had said to him before he'd lost service, was that Yash had yet to arrive.
There was a chance the bartender was simply running late, but there was also a chance that it was something else.
Something worse.
I should never have left her alone, he couldn't help but think, also knowing deep down that she would never have allowed him to wait outside for her like a parent waiting for their child outside of school.
If there was one thing that had never changed about her since Hogwarts, it was her determination to prove she didn't need anyone but herself.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a deep breath and climbed out of the car.
Five minutes.
Five minutes and I'm gone.
Taking the forest that cradled the property, Draco shrugged his coat on tighter, dressed in black.
It was cold, windy.
In the distance he could see that the warehouse was blocked by a tall, wrought-iron gate and that a patrol guard was posted at every corner.
Strapped and ready to go.
Slowly he inched closer to the edge of the forest, discreetly looking between the trees and taking note of every small thing that he noticed. The guards that patrolled the back of the building, were constantly moving, watching for any signs of anyone who shouldn't have been there.
There were so far apart from each other, Draco was sure he would have blended right in if he had the right attire.
Grabbing the omnioculars out of his pocket, he took note of a few more details.
The security cameras were all out of reach, and apart from the ones at the front of the building, they appeared to be fairly new. It was almost as though there had been a break-in fairly recently, and as though they had doubled up on security measures since then.
I guess it was never meant to be easy.
Releasing a deep breath, Draco continued zooming in on various things. The size of each guard in case he was faced with any of them, the paths each of them took as they patrolled, and finally, the colour and make of the car that had pulled up in front of the gate.
It was large and completely blacked out, and as the doors opened, two of Kharon's men climbed out. Both were tall and dressed the same as the guards. The driver quickly approached one of the patrol guards, seemingly to explain why they were there and what was inside that car, whilst his partner opened the door to the backseat, and dragged two people out and onto their knees.
A man and a woman.
They were tied up, beaten to the point that they could barely kneel and had bags over their heads.
Draco watched in silence, his fingers trembling around his omnioculars as he zoomed in on those two people.
For a split second he'd mistaken them for Gemma and Eric, but the moment the bags were lifted from their heads, he realized just how wrong he was.
About it all.
Stumbling backwards, he sped back to his car as fast as he could, knowing now that Yash wasn't just running late.
They'd found him.
And they'd apparently found Anna, too.
His chest clenched at the thought of what happened to her, whether it could have been avoided if he had simply kept an eye on her the other night like he had intended to.
The only part that brought him an ounce of relief, was that they hadn't found Granger.
Not yet.
There was still time.
If he drove fast enough, he was sure he could get to her before they did. The Morning Fields was a twenty minute drive away.
Far but not terribly far.
In part he felt horrible leaving Yash and especially Anna out there alone, but he first had to make sure Granger was okay.
They had separated for barely fifteen minutes at dinner earlier, and he had nearly lost her.
If it hadn't been for the potion, he never would have known that she was in danger.
Hurriedly climbing into his car and pulling away from the forest, Draco drove as fast as he could, through the dark, winding road ahead. It was only after he'd driven far enough, that a bunch of new text messages vibrated in his pocket.
He glanced down at them, quickly.
From: Rose
Yash isn't here.
There's blood on the floor.
It's still wet.
With one look, he could see that Granger had sent those messages just five minutes ago, meaning she was more than likely okay. He tried to text back, to call, to urge her to get out of that building before she was found, but it didn't go through.
Either she'd turned her phone off or someone else had turned it off for her.
There were hundreds of thoughts running through his head at the same time, but the only one that he paid any mind to, was the one that urged him to remain silent.
Let her do the talking.
At that point she had no idea that he'd recognized her.
He planned on keeping it that way, at least until he could figure out his next move.
Tying her up by the wrists, he directed her through the front door of the hotel, where he'd forced his way inside at the start of the night, and into the car that he had parked along the curb a couple of blocks down.
To his surprise she did nothing to resist.
No kicks, no punches, no threats.
Not even after he'd pocketed her phone.
Instead she complied, walking down the dark, glistening street with him before climbing into the front passenger seat, where he then tied her hands to the door.
Deep down he knew it was risky to bring her along, but the bigger risk was letting her go. For all either of them knew, The Collective was on their way back to The Morning Fields to finish what they had started.
Caroline Grey may have been quick, fearless and mouthy, but Thomas knew better than anyone, there was very little she could do when the rings were at play.
Her abilities couldn't save her against anti-magic.
In fact the only reason he hadn't pulled the trigger on her, was down to the simple fact that Yash had trusted her.
There was no way she'd have wandered into that room without having been asked there by Yash. She was also on the simpler, more understated side in terms of looks, just as Yash had described.
In the back of his mind, Thomas wondered if his friend had known Caroline's secret all along.
Anna certainly didn't.
Had it not been for the traces of the Afterlife stamp that he'd seen on the back of Caroline's hand, he never would have suspected a thing.
Suddenly he thought of the night that he had followed Jason Grey on the train. Is he one of them, too? Is that why he went after Anna? Because she's connected to me? Suffice to say he had a lot to think about, but he knew better than to dive into those topics right anyway.
Not when Caroline was in the passenger seat of his car.
If that was even her real name.
"Where are you taking me?" the brunette abruptly asked, looking directly at Thomas as he pulled away from the curb and onto the main road. "Hello?"
He said nothing, instead opting for silence as he collected his thoughts.
"If you're going to hand me over to Kharon, I would appreciate a heads up at the very least."
Snapping a look at Caroline as if to tell her to be quiet, Thomas tightened his grip on the steering wheel, focusing his efforts on the road if only to keep from saying something he shouldn't have.
On the one hand he had all the power in the situation, but on the other hand he was lost, his mind jumbled in questions that he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers to.
Not yet.
"Listen, I know you're scared. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't scared, too …" Caroline offered to him, in a way that sounded almost sincere. "The truth is I'm just as lost as you right now. And maybe I'm wrong, but … you don't strike as the kind of guy who follows orders that he doesn't believe in."
Thomas tensed up, refusing to look at her for even a second. "I know what you're doing."
"What's that?"
"You know exactly what," he snapped. "I may not be trigger happy, but I know an act when I see one."
"You think that what I said was an act?" Caroline asked, a surprised twitch along her eyebrow as she lifted it up. "Believe me, I'd never have told you the truth about what I am if I hadn't felt that I could trust you."
That would have been a good point if not for the fact that she'd realized by then that the makeup on her stamp had faded away.
He'd have figured it out with or without her compliance.
"What do I have to do?" she furthered. "Name your terms."
Slowing at a red light, Thomas looked to her, the mess of thoughts in his head falling silent as he heard something vibrate.
With a quick look around, he realized it was his phone.
He'd left it in the cup holder earlier.
"Shit …" the bouncer muttered under his breath, hurriedly grabbing his phone in his hand as the name Kharon flashed across the screen in big, bright letters.
Going by the knowing look in Caroline's eyes, she had seen the name. "Aren't you going to take that?" she asked, calmly. "He's your boss, isn't he?"
Thomas pressed his lips into a thin line. "You ask a lot of questions for someone who's tied up."
"I guess you should have taped my mouth shut, too."
Before he was able to respond, his phone vibrated again. This time it was a text message, and this time he noticed that there was also another text message waiting for him. One that had been sent to his phone earlier, shortly after he'd arrived The Morning Fields.
From: Kharon
There's an important matter I'd like to discuss.
If you could stop by my office tonight, I would greatly appreciate it.
From: Anna Hayes
Help.
For a split second Thomas had no idea what to make of either message. It was only as he allowed Anna's to sink in, that his heart dropped.
"Fuck … fuck!" he shouted, phone clattering down at his feet as he rapidly set aside the panic in his chest and tore through the red light without a second of thought.
Caroline sucked in, bracing herself as they sped down the road, the rumble of the engine growing louder with each second. "Wh-what are you doing? That was a red light!"
At that point he could barely process the words she was saying.
His only concern was Anna.
Since the start, his only concern had been Anna.
Without a word he screeched his car to a halt directly in front of the house, Caroline's eyes wide, questioning as she waited for him to explain.
There was no time to explain.
There was no time to say as a little as one word.
Swiftly climbing out of the car, Thomas ran to the front door of the house as fast as he could, his throat clenching along the collar of his leather jacket as he noticed that the living room window had been smashed in.
He tried not to panic, he tried to keep as calm and as quiet as he could as he entered the house.
There was a chance the attacker was still there.
Taking a deep breath, Thomas softened his steps, slowly making his way through the front door. The lights in the house were off and as he crept through the living room and into the kitchen, he noticed the kitchen table had been pushed about a foot to the left and that the chairs were askew.
He could almost see it.
The way it happened.
Anna had been waiting for him to come home, when suddenly she'd heard something. Either the door or the rumble of a car as it had pulled up in front of the house. At first she thought that he'd come home early, but the second the window was smashed in, she ran to the kitchen in a state of shock, and hid under the table.
It was unclear what had happened to her after that, but Thomas knew by the message that she had sent, that she had at least hoped that he would get there in time.
His eyes stung as he tried to hold it all in, looking through every inch of the house for any sign of his girlfriend before he accepted the fact that she was gone.
Where they'd taken the barista, he had no idea.
All he knew for sure was that the longer he stayed there, the harder it was going to be for him to eventually find her.
He had to get out of there fast.
Before Kharon sent for him.
"What happened?" Caroline asked, as Thomas climbed back into the drivers seat without a word.
For a moment he'd forgotten she was even there. Only as she hit the door with her bundled fist to get his attention, did he look to her.
"Sh-she's gone," he uttered, in quiet disbelief.
"What are you talking about? Who's g —?"
"You know exactly who!" he suddenly shouted, cutting her off mid-sentence as every ounce of restraint swiftly left his body. "Don't you fucking sit there and pretend you don't know who I am or what happened tonight!"
Caroline fell silent, just looking at him now. "I-I honestly don't know what you're getting at, but —"
"Your husband fucked my girlfriend for months," the bouncer interjected. "The second I came to know about it, I found him and everything I could about his life, including the woman that he's married to. If you're going to play dumb and act as though you didn't do the exact same thing, I only ask that you get the fuck out of my car and forget you ever saw me tonight."
There was a quiver of shock along her bottom lip as she tried to think of something to say. "You knew all this time?"
"Yes."
"Is that why you didn't shoot?"
"I don't have an answer to that question right now," Thomas forced out. "They took her. Th-they broke into the house when I wasn't home, and they took her."
Caroline released the breath that she had held in, speaking carefully. "If you untie me, I can help you."
"You're out of your mind if you think I'll ever accept help from a w —"
"Listen to me," she interjected, sharply now. "Right now I'm all you have. Yash is nowhere to be found. Your girlfriend was taken away. It's just us now. You may not trust me, but I promise you, Thomas … I will do everything in my power to help you if you'll just let me."
He refused to give in so easily.
He'd heard so much about their kind.
The things they'd done to non-magical people like him.
The wizarding wars that had claimed countless non-magical lives.
The memories that were taken from them, as though they were playthings.
It was nearly as bad as non-magical history, which to his knowledge had always had two sides.
The longer he sat with Caroline in that car, he couldn't help but wonder as to which side she had belonged to in those wars. Was it the side that had tortured and killed non-magical people for fun or was it the side that had hopefully fought against those atrocities?
"Please," she added, the look in her eyes telling him that there was more to magicals than he had been told. "I-I know a place we can go. A safe place."
If not for the fact that she was right in saying it was just them now, he'd never have done it.
Without saying a word Thomas leaned in and untied her, asking her just one question in the quiet that followed. "Is it .. is it both of you?" he managed, waiting for an answer.
For a moment Caroline said nothing, undoubtedly running through every possible outcome in her head before she finally shoved her worries to the side. "Yes," she nodded. "It's both of us. Jason is a magical just like I am. In fact … those aren't even our real names."
Quietly taken aback, Thomas knew deep down that she had only told him as a show of trust.
If she could trust him with her secret, he could trust her to help him in his time of need.
A/N: I hope that wasn't too confusing. I'd love to know your thoughts, what you think will happen in the next chapter, what you think of the characters, etc. Either way thanks for reading! I'm really enjoying the writing experience.