A Hybrid's Destiny

Chapter 9

The smells of breakfast and coffee swirled outside the diner, following the waitress who had opened the door bearing a large circular tray and headed in their direction. Carefully, she teetered it on her shoulder before setting it on an adjacent table. Without checking her notes, the tall red-head served each of them with their correct order without trouble, a warming red smile stretching the sprinkle of freckles across her pale pallid cheeks.

Aron wasted no time digging into the meal right away, anxious to nourish his body enough that they could get on the move. Between bites, he peeked over at Sébastien; with the way his twin forked his food and ate without paying much attention to anything else but it and his drink, he was of the same sentiment. Eating and sleeping were bullshit. They had stuff to do!

Yet, he knew food and sleep were important right now. After nearly swearing off food the first two weeks Nevaeh went missing, his body ached now for the calories; his energy was drained as well as the fact that he could barely sleep and basically felt like his heart had been wretched from his body. Even so, whatever he ate still tasted like cardboard. But he shoved it in anyway, knowing if they somehow made it into the Underworld within the next twenty-four hours, he’d need to walk into that place ready to throw-down, not roll over and bare his stomach and get his ass kicked by the first demon he crossed.

As he downed his coffee, Aron dwelt on that possibility, about finally getting underground. In his fantasies, Nevaeh would be standing there, waiting for him to come rescue her… a fantasy which may or may not have ended with them having hot, raging s*x on a black lava rock with fire and brimstone, all that s**t they say is in hell, bursting all around them as he ravaged her body.

But he wasn’t naïve enough to think she would be exactly on the other end of any gateway they would manage to get through. The Underworld was as vast as above ground. For the last month, they had been tracking down demons who were still topside that had access to terrain and citadel maps. They didn’t have a lot, but at least they had something. It was a start, and he knew they could play it by ear once they got below the surface.

We just needed to f*****g get down there. he growled as his chewed on a piece of toast. Sébastien looked at him when he did so, but didn’t say anything. He just nodded, knowing exactly what prompted it.

Shit, these scrambled eggs tasted awful. Maybe his cardboard just needed to be spiced up. “Bastien, salt please.” Aron looked at the small glass shaker at the end of the table.

His brother nodded, then flicked his finger, beckoning the salt toward him. Without hesitation, the shaker slid across the surface and stopped near Aron’s plate. Without a second thought, he picked it up and started to season his food.

Sébastien had been exercising his Âlde Tire telekinetic abilities for the past three weeks. It took him a while to even tamper with it; he said he didn’t want to because it was like taking a hammer to his chest with how it reminded him of Levi. But once they started actually making progress with gathering intel about the Underworld, and the possibility of getting down there became more probable day by day, he knew he would need to be ready for the inevitable s**t show underground. Although it was still new to him, Sébastien was getting pretty good at it.

The amusement on the witches’ faces blended with a bit of appreciation for Sébastien’s parlor tricks while they watched the shaker pass them by. Aron chuckled to himself as he scooped the now salt-flavored nothingness into his mouth. If only the witches knew who exactly was sitting at his other side, the hybrid, and the power the guy had. Tate could probably whip all their asses with that magic lightshow he spewed from his hands while they battled the Dèana—err… Jonnach.

Aron didn’t know much about Tate’s sangpyth vampire-witchy abilities, but damn. He was glad he wasn’t on the hybrid’s s**t-list. When Tate and Merch started firing their magic at Jonnach nearer the end of the battle a month ago, Aron watched from across the field in just utter amazement, and knew the Master demon was going down soon. They probably would have succeeded if the d**k hadn’t tucked his tail and jumped through the portal. Bastard coward.

Looking at Tate with a quick side-glance, he noticed the guy moping over his own plate. Maybe he couldn’t taste his food either? Then Aron caught the hybrid’s eyes flick over to Jaelyn who hardly gave him two seconds of her attention. Instead, she was glued to stirring her omelet with her fork. Hmm. Maybe the food was bad here? Tate’s quick peep only took a second, and if Aron hadn’t been looking, he could have missed it, too. Nope. Tate wasn’t hating on the food. It seemed the guy liked the witch and she didn’t reciprocate? Damn, that must be hard for the playboy to swallow.

When Raith joined them at the table, Lincoln nearly spit his orange juice as he watched the vampire walk over to Tate, hugging his son with a quick side-embrace, before tucking the cell phone he had been using within his suit coat pocket and taking a seat.

Aron felt a twinge of jealousy while watching the vampire interact with his son. He missed his own father, despite all the s**t he was trying to pull right before Jonnach laid him out with that lightning strike. The harrowing ache of not knowing if his father was going to pull out of the coma was something he tried to compartmentalize, to bury for the moment, while he dealt with trying to find his kamará. But it would still haunt the corners of his mind, in times like this, when he watched Elder Raith and Tate together.

Lincoln’s mouth hung open, boring his incredulous stare into the Elder. “How are you outside right now? It’s f*****g day time!” Jaelyn made eyes at her brother for being so forward, but he shrugged her away.

“Hoping you weren’t going to see me today, hmm, Lincoln?” Elder Raith’s Scottish accent purred behind the plastic-coated menu in his hands. “Little do you know about old vampires,” he peeked around the edge, his eyes spiking red for a second, as if marking a silent exclamation on his statement.

Tate chuckled and Aron joined the hybrid with a smirk. Having lived with them for over a month, this wasn’t new to him. Aron sipped the last of his coffee while he listened to Tate inform the witches, “When a vampire has been capped as an Elder, they don’t need to worry about the sun as much and aren’t strapped down with the soporis bibisti - dead sleep- anymore.”

“Well, shit.” Lincoln’s expression soured. Jaelyn’s eyes remained wide like saucers. “How many elders have I passed by on the street, during the day, and not realized it.”

Elder Raith smirked, “Probably quite a few,” but he didn’t elaborate further on that. “Son,” he addressed Tate as he flagged the waitress back to their table, “within the last few hours, we managed to gather more details on the faerie territory here in Uig. It’s in a place called the Glenn.” He paused while relaying what drink he wanted to the waitress. After he sent her off, he turned to Tate more fully. “We’ll know more in a moment.”

“In a moment?” Tate asked, then saw his father’s chin lift, directing his attention outward. Turning his head, he noticed a familiar face walking toward them and smiled. “Myung! I didn’t know you were coming.” He stood up and gave him a side man-hug, ending their embrace with a quick pat on the back.

The Asian grinned, scratching the side of his jaw at the short beard there. “Well, your father has had me sticking my nose into all sorts of business ever since I graduated from being a day watcher since he doesn’t need me much for that anymore.” Myung was still human, but yet he wasn’t. With consuming his father’s blood as a Familiar over the years, he didn’t age, was hella strong, and had other vampire attributes without actually being a vampire. Most of the time, vampires used beings such as Myung as bodyguards, which he had been for many years.

“Ah, so you’re one of dad’s spooks, huh?” Myung was probably damn good at recon too. Having worked with his father for decades, he knew the ins and outs of many nonhuman organizations with the connections he had made over the years. “He never told me.”

Elder Raith rationalized, “I don’t rat out my intel personnel, Tate. You know that. Not good for business.” He indicated for Myung to take a seat. “But since I want Myung working closely on this now, I figured it was time for him to join us.”

After introductions were made for those who he wasn’t acquainted with, the Familiar jumped right to business, which began with a black cloth bag the size of his fist that he removed from his coat pocket. When Myung dropped it onto the table, it clanked loudly as it touched down, sounding much like the shuffle of coins. “First thing’s first. We’ll need this for when we get to the Glenn and find the faerie’s warded doorway. The entrance will be protected by what I’ve been told are called Guardians. More specifically, the Siofra.”

"She-what?" Tate asked.

"Sheeee-fruh," Myung helped him enunciate. "Siofra."

Sébastien scoffed, pointing at the black pouch “Are we going to quarter punch these Guardians with this bag of coins?”

“We could as a last resort,” Myung laughed. “But not exactly. It seems they can be charmed with money. We’ll buy our way in.”

Ah, they can be bought off. Just like any modern guy. Aron nodded at the bag, “What do you got in there? Silver? Gold?”

Myung’s smile endured even as he shook his head. “Mint-condition, copper pennies, actually. These Guardians have no understanding of monetary value. They just like the idea of shiny money.”

“Nice,” Aron chuckled at the simplicity of it. But he had a feeling it wasn’t going to be such. “Are you the guy that also has the details on where this place is located? How do we find it?”

“Yes, that would be me,” Myung took his phone out of his pocket. After his fingers tapped on it for a few seconds, he smiled as everyone’s phone started to beep with a notification. Jaelyn and Lincoln were shocked to find they had received one too, pulling their phones out of their stored places and looking at the device. “You’ve been sent the location of where the faerie territory is and the intel I’ve gathered.”

“How the f**k did you get my phone number?” Lincoln boomed. Jae tried to grab his arm as he stood up, his chair nearly tipping over behind him. In a tremulous cacophony, Aron, Sébastien, and Tate growled at him. Luckily they were outside the restaurant, but even so, on the other side of the glass barrier, some heads turned their way.

“Back that s**t up!” Tate hissed through elongating teeth. “I won’t have you disrespect my father!”

Myung’s mirth died on his lips as he looked from the very pissed off witch to Elder Raith. “Ok, I’m hella confused right now. Isn’t he part of your team?”

Elder Raith’s vexed expression shot to Lincoln as he deadpanned, “That’s still up for debate.”

“Disrespect your father? He doesn’t deserve any respect from us!” Lincoln rolled his eyes. “You have no right to mettle into anything that has to do with us!” Lincoln pointed between himself and Jaelyn. “We want nothing to do with you! You’ve done enough already!”

Aron slowly stood, eyeing Lincoln from across the table. Even though the witch was fairly tall, Aron stalked a bit higher, his body more muscular, as he leered over him. In every bit of the prince he was and the king that he was to become, his deep voice mustered an authority that could make any human cower. “This is a package deal, Lincoln. We are working together to get through this. If you have a problem with anyone here at this table, I suggest you walk away. Now.”

He sneered at Elder Raith before he seethed, “Come on, Jae,” he took a step away from the table. But she did not move, did not join him. Her eyes were looking up at her brother, begging him with their silent plea. Lincoln didn’t like that, didn’t like her sitting on the other side of the line he was drawing. “Come on, Jae!” he repeated, his face heating up. “We can’t do this. You know we can’t. Not with him!” He pointed an angry finger at the vampire.

Tate joined Aron, jumping to his feet. His hands palmed the table as he leaned inward, glaring across at the witch. “What the f**k issue do you have with my dad?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Lincoln spat.

Tate turned, eyeing his father. Elder Raith’s jaw was clenched, his glare remaining locked on Lincoln, poisoning him with his eyes. When the silence goaded him to speak, he finally focused on his son. His deep voice was calm, even, “Their mother, Mistress Sienna, was an old friend of mine.” Lincoln rolled his eyes and chuckled harshly, his hands grasping his hips. Raith waited patiently for the witch’s tantrum to end before continuing, “We were close,” his eyes challenged Lincoln’s, but the human didn’t respond. “We worked together for centuries. Your mother knew her too,” he nodded at Tate for a second before focusing squarely at Lincoln as he said. “But she betrayed me. More unforgivably, she betrayed your mother.” With full conviction, “And so I executed her.”

Oh, s**t. Aron frowned as his eyes jumped to all the faces around the table.

Tate slowly stood upright, the anger draining from him as he looked at Jaelyn. She wouldn’t look at him. “Jae—”

“--No! Don’t speak to her! You don’t get to speak to her anymore!” Lincoln snapped. “You’re balls deep in as much s**t as your vampire father!” Lincoln grated. “Your other dad, that Alpha King piece of s**t, killed our father. Master Charles. He ripped out his throat.” He pointed at Tate. “Your two fathers killed our parents.” The redder his face became, the louder his voice shrilled. “So you can see why I have a f*****g issue with this whole thing.” Lincoln tilted his head at his sister. “I’m only here because she doesn’t want to walk away, but I can’t figure out for the life of me why she wants to associate with our parents’ murderers!”

Aron ran a hand over the back of his neck as he watched Tate struggle with some sort of inner battle. The hybrid’s wide eyes shifted from the female witch to his father, as if he had to make a choice between the two. He knew that look, knew what knotted s**t was scrambling his stomach and hammering his brain. When his own father was making him choose between him and Nevaeh, he felt just as torn.

“Come on, Jae,” Lincoln demanded, even yanking on the back of her chair to force it backwards even with her in it.

When Jaelyn stood, Aron thought Tate was going to lose it. The hybrid’s hands balled, his arms shaking as he fought for control. s**t, don’t go Chernobyl right now! That would not be good. What did this witch really mean to Tate? He seemed to be taking this hard.

As Lincoln towed his sister from the table, she looked back, more specifically to Tate, and at that point Aron knew. He knew that look. Holy s**t.

Jaelyn was his mate.

And now he was watching her walk away.

“We’ve wasted too much time already,” Tate’s voice was tainted with a bitterness Aron had never heard in the happy-go-lucky guy. Ever. Tate oozed in so much enthusiastic spunk, it was nearly nauseating. But right now, it was gone. Any hint of a smile, gone. And suddenly, Aron missed it, even if it had grated on his nerves before. “Time to head out to the faerie territory.”