Isabella stared at the front gate of Percy's residence, unable to comprehend what she was looking at. She turned to look at him, her incredulity painted on her features, which only drew an infuriating smirk from the man.
"No," she shook her head, "Don't look at me like that, explain." As though to emphasize the point, she jabbed a finger at the gate. "My men told me this place was a mess. Why the fuck does it look like nothing happened to it?"
She was right. If she hadn't heard the explosion and fire herself, Isabella wouldn't have believed it if Percy had told her that his entire farm had been destroyed the night before. As far as she could tell, the horse stalls, barn, and homestead were completely unharmed. Percy just smiled and gripped her around the wrist and tugged her gently through the front gate. She allowed herself to be dragged, stumbling along a strange sensation washed over her. It was as though she had stepped under the cool stream of a small waterfall.
Then, the scene before her shifted. The strong and sturdy stables disappeared as they were replaced with smoldering ruins, tails of black smoke still streaming up into the mid-morning sun. The windows of the homestead had been destroyed, and there was fire damage to the southeastern wall, where the flames had nearly engulfed the building.
She stopped, dead in her tracks. Her eyes glanced over the destruction, mounting horror building in her chest. But that horror very quickly gave way to rage. Her vision blurred, and she could feel her body start the process to shift. She growled. A deep, guttural sound reverberated around the space of the clearing.
A warm hand on the base of her neck, cooled her rage as it rubbed a soothing circle. Starting at the base of her shoulders and working up along the end of her spine. The red in her vision began to fade as she wrested control of her body back from her inner animal. She reached out and gripped his hand tightly in hers.
"You could have just said you were a mage," she said, glancing up at him as he led her away from the property.
"And I would have been lying," said Percy,
"Percy," she said, her voice flat and unamused, "You cannot honestly look me in the eye and tell me that that-" she pointed at the gate, "-isn't magic, because that's one of the most impressive enchantment's I've ever seen."
Percy chuckled and turned his head to look at her, meeting her eyes easily.
"I never said it wasn't magic. I just said that I wasn't a mage."
"You're not going to tell me, are you."
He sighed, scratching at a place behind his ear. "Believe me Red, I would if I could. But…I genuinely can't. Not yet. There are…protocols in place. I know it doesn't make sense, but…but I'm going to have to ask for some faith. I promise I'll tell you, and when I do everything will make sense but until then…" He trailed off, and Isabella squeezed his hand in hers. A silent show of support.
She was curious, but she was willing to wait and let him tell her when he felt that he could. She knew that some creatures had odd stipulations regarding their…abilities. An inability to explain what he was? Well, it wouldn't have been the strangest thing that she had ever heard of before.
Besides, it wasn't like she had told him what kind of a shifter she was yet anyways.
"Where are we going, anyway?" She asked, and Percy pointed at a small shed near the edge of the property. Isabella recognized it as where Percy had most likely hidden her daughter during the attack.
Cassidy, her strong and iron-willed little girl, had handled the ordeal exceptionally well. When she woke up, she asked if the horses were okay. She would still be taking her little one to a therapist in Boston, but she was happy to see that Cassidy didn't, at the moment, appear to be overly traumatized by the ordeal. They'd dropped her off at her friend's house for an impromptu play date, opening the morning and afternoon up for whatever they needed to accomplish.
Approaching the small shed, Percy opened the door and led the way inside and Isabella followed close behind. At first, Isabella only looked like nothing more than a standard tool shed. Then, the same sensation of walking under a waterfall washed over her, and her surroundings changed again. She now found herself inside what could reasonably be called a bunker. The large room before her was covered in a beautiful, shining wooden floor. There was a small kitchen in the far corner and a dining table. In the opposite corner, a couch perched in front of a stone fireplace, which was somehow lit and emitting heat. Some pictures and minor decorations were adorning the walls. She could make out what looked to be a battered and rather torn purple and gold flag hanging over the fireplace, and a pair of beautifully engraved swords over the dining room table. It was almost as though more thought had gone into decorating this room than had gone into decorating his actual home.
"Percy," she started to say, but he cut her off, gesturing her to follow him through a door she hadn't noticed at first, along the far wall. The door opened up into a large stone stairwell that descended what must have been at least a story. She couldn't quite stop the sudden thought that she might have jumped the gun with Percy a little, and maybe she was being led straight to her death. Though she shook it off as ridiculous as they reached the bottom of the stairs. At the bottom was a large, wrought-iron and oakwood door. The dark oak was ornately carved with odd-looking engravings and symbols etched into the frame.
She watched in fascination as Percy pressed his palm against the wood of the door. There was a brief burst of…something in the air. As though the air pressure had dramatically increased for a moment, only to disappear a moment later. Then, the door began to glow, as the engravings burst into light with accented blue. After a moment, the light faded, and Percy wrenched the door open. Leading the way inside, Percy closed the door behind her as Isabella stepped into what appeared to her, to be a dungeon. The walls were made of dark, solid-looking rock, and the back wall was lined with large metallic rings, that she recognized from books and movies as someplace to chain a prisoner.
Which was exactly what was happening at that moment. A man that Isabella recognized as one of Packard's trusted men was lying against the far wall, his hands bound in glittering chains which were secured to one of the wall rings. His legs were bound by a pair of shimmering silver cuffs. His bare torso was wrapped in medical gauze, which was stained with blood, pus, and mucus. A flimsy piece of duct tape had been slapped unceremoniously across his face.
"Threw him through a tree last night," Percy explained, "Shattered a couple of his ribs. Patched him up a little, but I dragged him back here before I grabbed Cass. Figured I'd pull some info from him myself, but now that we're working on this thing together…" He shot her a bloodthirsty smile and cause goosebumps to erupt up and down her arms.
"I figured we could have some fun together…"
"Your idea of a date truly is an inspiration," Isabella said, even as she tossed her jacket to the ground and began rolling up the sleeves of her hoodie. "Nicholas Sparks is weeping somewhere, I'm sure of it."
She strode forward, her hands casually resting in the front pocket of her hoodie. One hand reached out and snatched the corner of the duct tape, giving it a yank. The man snarled in agitation and pain as the tape pulled a decent portion of his thinning mustache with it.
"Evening Frank," she said casually, "How's it going?"
"What the fuck Connors?" He spat, glaring up at her, "What the hell are you doing here? Know what, never mind, just get me out of here already!"
"I don't think I'll do that, Frank," she said easily, crouching down in front of the chained man. She gripped him around the chin. "See, last night when you and your fuck boyfriends attacked Percy here…my daughter was asleep on his couch." Her nails sharpened to a razor's edge and dug into his chin, drawing blood.
"So no, I don't think I will be helping you out."
Frank's eyes grew wide, "We didn't know!" He said quickly in a panic. "We didn't know! I swear! She wasn't supposed to be there, swear to god Ms. Connors, you have to believe me!"
"Oh I do believe you, sweetheart," she said gently, stroking the side of the man's cheek. "And I can see that you're very, very sorry about what happened. This is why you're going to answer all of our questions, as your way of atoning for your sins. Isn't that right?"
Frank's eyes glanced away from Isabella and over to Percy for a moment, before turning back to Isabella. Out of the corner of his eye, Frank saw Percy disappear from view.
"I-I….I…."
Isabella tightened her grip on his chin, making sure to dig her nails deeper into his flesh. He squirmed, flinching in pain as blood dripped over her fingernails. He shuddered and shrank into himself. Isabella clicked her tongue in satisfaction and released her hold on him.
"No one has seen the hide or hair of Alex in over a year, what happened?"
"You-you knows that I can't talk a-about family-" He was stopped abruptly, as Percy stepped back into view. He raised his hand in front of him and snapped his fingers. Isabella watched in curiosity as Frank's eyes unfocused for a moment. The room grew warm and heavy. She began to sweat as the thick humidity draped over her. There was a slight distortion around the air where Percy had snapped, and for a moment, Isabella thought she was hallucinating.
Then…something bewildering. A second Percy materialized. As though he had always been there. Only…it wasn't quite right. He was…transparent. Like a ghost. Only he wasn't alone. Frank thrashed against his bindings, screaming and hissing in rage as Percy forced a young woman at his side to her knees in front of him. Isabella recognized the young woman as Frank's younger sister, Alicia. To make the experience even stranger, was the fact that the…" real" Percy didn't so much as move a muscle. He just continued to stare at Frank. Unmoving. His eyes glowing iridescently.
Isabella took a stunning step back, glancing at Percy in surprise and alarm. But Frank was far more focused on his sister than he was on the pair in front of them. Alicia looked relatively unharmed, her pale blonde hair was still neat, despite the dirt and grime of their surroundings. Her always-piercing green eyes stared at him, fear evident on her features.
"Frank…" She whispered, her voice hoarse. To her, it was almost as though the girl was speaking from very far away "What's-what's going on? W-who are these people? W-what i-is this place? I'm scared Frank!"
He thrashed more violently against his bindings but stopped abruptly when Percy reached into his pants pocket and withdrew that damnable sword he'd used to kill so many of Frank's brothers the night before. He held the razor-sharp edge of the blade against the nape of Alicia's neck.
"No!" Frank roared, trying his damnedest to shift and save his sister, but whatever the chains around him were made of seemed to keep him from transforming at all. "Get your hands off of her!"
Percy didn't so much as blink, though Isabella shot the man a glance that belied her mounting confusion and concern over the rapidly escalating situation. Percy hardly seemed to pay her any mind, as he focused intently on Frank.
"Tell us what we want to know Frankie. You wouldn't want us to hurt her, now would you?"
Once more, the "real" Percy didn't move. Didn't speak. The words came from the image.
"Percy, what the fuck are you talking about?" Isabella said in a hushed tone, though still audible enough for Frank to hear. Both men ignored her, however, as Frank stared helplessly at his sister. The edge of the blade cut lightly into the nape of her neck, just deep enough to begin drawing blood. Alicia whimpered softly and tried to flinch away from the blade, only for Percy to reach a hand into her hair and force her to stay put.
"What's it gonna be Frankie boy?" Percy asked, "You gonna be a good boy, or am I going to have to start carving? Maybe make myself a new wallet."
"You son of a bitch!" Frank screeched, "I'll fucking gut you!"
Percy didn't react, he only moved the edge of the blade to the edge of her head. He traced the edge of the blade along the edge of Alicia's ear.
"You make another move, and I'll take her ear. One at a time, until you realize we're not playing games."
Frank tore his eyes away from the blade and met his sister's eyes.
"Please, Frankie," Tears were streaming down her face. The tears mixed with her mascara and caused small black rivulets to drip down her cheeks, as though she were crying tar.
"Please Frankie…just-just tell them what they want…please….I'm so scared Frankie, please don't let them hurt me, please."
"You bastard," Frank hissed, his body deflating as all of the fights left his body. "You absolute, fucking, bastard. What kind of man goes after another man's family?"
Isabella's eyes went wide, and her head snapped to glare questioningly at Percy, but he continued to look only at Frank.
"You attacked my home twice, tried to kill my horses, burned down my farm, and put the life of someone I care about very dearly at risk. You can take your moralistic preaching and blow it out your hypocritical ass." He tightened his grip on the weapon, "Now tell us what we want to know."
Frank turned one last look at his frightened sister, before collapsing against the dungeon wall.
"I don't know what happened to Alex," he said finally, "All I know is, no one outside Bradley has seen him since October. All of Alex's orders are coming directly from Bradley. No one else is allowed in or out of Alex's quarters in the Big House."
Isabella turned one more look at Percy, who was still resolutely ignoring her in favor of focusing his attention on Frank, before casting her concerns away for the moment. Nothing that Frank had just told her was new information. It lined up with what her people had discovered.
"Have there been any doctors or healers to the House?" Isabella asked, "Anything that might indicate if the big guy is sick?"
Frank shook his head, "Nothing. Don't even know what happened. One day Bradley just gathered everyone together and told us that the old man was sick. That he would recover, but that it would be slow moving and that all orders would be coming through Bradley from then on."
"Nobody found it odd that no one besides Bradley was allowed to go in and see the old man?" Isabella asked,
"Of course we did," Frank spat, "We're not fucking idiots. Of course, we thought it was odd as hell. But then Donnie said that he'd seen the boss and that it wasn't looking too good. The boys like Donnie. He's one of us, trustworthy, ya know? So when he says something is something, we don't think about it. That ain't our job."
Isabella didn't feel the need to comment on the irony that the word of the Family Head's son wasn't nearly as trustworthy as one of the Family lieutenants.
"Why have you been attacking the farm?" Isabella asked, changing topics. "What's so important about driving Percy away?"
"Fuck if I know," Frank spat, "You think they told me shit? Alex said we had to burn the barn down and kill the bastard if he started something. He didn't tell us why."
"Where is this…'Big House' of yours?" Percy's voice was oddly hoarse, and Isabella became acutely aware that he hadn't blinked in some time. The corners of his eyes were sparkling with wetness, likely from the strain of being forced to remain open.
Frank's complexion grew sallow, and he looked desperately at Isabella. Horror and betrayal were etched on his face.
"You'd break the Agreement…for him?"
"She has nothing to do with it," Percy barked, "You attack my home, attack me, twice. Did you think I wasn't going to retaliate?" The blade crept a little closer to the base of Alicia's ears.
"I'm going to find out one way or another, so either tell me now and spare her life, or I kill you all and find out anyways. Your choice."
Frank's eyes darted back to Alicia's. Tears and snot were dribbling down her front, staining her white blouse in black and mucus. His shoulder slumped, his head banging against the rock of the cavern behind him.
He gave him the address.
To Frank's relief, Percy let his arm and weapon drop to the side. But then, Frank's relief morphed into bewilderment, and then to horror. Percy snapped his fingers, and the room grew cold. Alicia started slowly fading away. Melting into the ether as though turned into fine dust, and was being swept up into the breeze. He blinked and felt his eyes re-focus as a strange sense of awareness washed over him. As though he had just woken up from a particularly groggy nap.
"What the hell is going on? What did you do to me?" He demanded, but Percy and Isabella paid him no mind.
"You done with him?" Percy asked casually.
"I am if you are," said Isabella, eyeing the man warily. Percy nodded, then took a step forward. Before Frank had the time to truly comprehend what was going on, the golden blade lashed out, separating Frank's head from his shoulders in one swift, clean, strike.
Isabella watched dispassionately as the dead man's body slumped against the wall, and his head rolled along the ground. There was a small flash of gold, and Percy stowed the weapon away, safely back inside his pocket.
"So, care to tell me what that was all about?" Isabella asked. She hadn't wanted to say anything during the exchange with Frank. It had been clear that the man was seeing something that she wasn't. Isabella didn't know much about magic but knew enough to know that there were plenty of spells that required prolonged eye contact to make it work. It explained Percy's lack of blinking at any rate.
"Or is this something else you can't tell me?"
"It was…" said Percy slowly, considering his words, "A rather special form of magic. Not one that can be learned by anyone beyond me and my…family."
"I thought you said you weren't a mage."
"And I'm not," he turned to look at her, that obnoxious little smirk back on his face. "You asked the wrong question."
"Don't play the semantics game with me, Jackson," she huffed with a roll of the eyes, "You can use magic, how the hell does that not make you a mage?"
"Probably the lack of liver spots and rampant accusations of pedophilia if I was gonna guess,"
She smacked him on the arm but didn't bother to smother her giggle. But as her laughter died away, the severity of the situation came over her.
"You can't make a move. Not yet."
Percy sighed but nodded his head. "You need to give him a heads up or something I'm guessing?"
"Just need to clear my name from all of this."
Percy grunted, scratching at a place behind his ear. "Well, can't fault you for that I suppose."
"No, you can't."
Percy chuckled, "All right, I'll wait until you've had a chance to properly clear yourself from this mess of ours. But as soon as you have…" There was a crack of thunder overhead, and Percy's eyes seemed to glow for a moment.
"Packard is a dead man."
BN: Hey, hello, hi, Double here. LDB has been busy dealing with IRL stuff so I've been running the show for a lil, anyway, this chapter plus one more are going to be the last ones for anything that is pre-written for an indefinite amount of time. And that time shouldn't be too long, just a short catch up while LDB deals with holidays and IRL stuff. You guys understand how life can be. Nothing is being abandoned (except Son of the Sea, fuck that, I am never letting him rewrite that) but there may be a short hiatus on some updates. We are planning some big things tho, keep an eye out for Catch You If You Fall, The Professor and a possible Our Protector rewrite... have fun, enjoy your holidays, enjoy life. Ciao.