After removing Penny’s shoes and cleaning her forehead from the wound, Damien pulled up the blanket over her. Tucking her in carefully, he walked out to the patio to look at the raging sea of the night.
By the time they had left the deserted village-like town, it was rather dark as the night had pulled over quickly. Taking out the cigar, he lit it in the cold wind, throwing the match stick out and down, its end exhausting before reaching halfway to the surface of the water. There was so much going right now. First, it was the black witches and now the switchers and then the alignment of stars.
He wondered what else was in the store that he was yet to see.
His cousin Alexander, it was something he would have to find out. There was something that had been gnawing in his mind on the same matter. It was the witch who was assigned to one of the churches who rarely appeared out and if she did, something in his mind scratched where he couldn’t point out clearly.
Damien didn’t know why but every time he saw her, the woman reminded him of his aunt yet they didn’t look similar in appearance. It wasn’t often that he found people that reminded him of others but this one was strong.
Lady Isabelle Genevieve was the mother of Lord Alexander who had died under the attack of the humans. No one knew what had got the humans triggered out of the blue but they had burned and killed her which was an incident that had taken place years ago. It couldn’t be possible that they were the same person because he believed that after death there was nothing but to go back to the ground.Completing the smoke in his hand, he threw the remaining ends of the cigar down for it follow the match stick which he had throw earlier.
Looking back over his shoulder, he noticed that Penny was fast asleep. It would take a while for her to wake up. The door that was locked in which he had replaced himself without anyone’s knowledge after Penny who had been pushed from here. Damien believed in being careful than sorry.
With a whisk of the wind which drew near the room, Damien Quinn had disappeared to head towards the Rune’s mansion.
Lord Nicholas Rune was the deceased third Lord of Bonelake, Wilhelhum Rune. There were a lot of rumors when it came to the Lord.
The most popular being how the man had killed his own father before ascending the lordship of the land of Bonelake. It wouldn’t have to be a surprise as there were many who were after it. With lordship came the power, money, and status which was what many of the aspiring men and women were after. In this world, there was no right or wrong.
Like his mother had said, no man is bad. If you stand in his shoes and see in his sight, you will find him to be right.Once you identify why someone did what they did, they wouldn’t seem so bad which would make one wonder then if there is anything bad in this world at all. And no matter how many conspiracy theories were made against Lord Nicholas, no one could prove it was him which nullified the entire case, making it invalid.
Walking inside the mansion with his pocket in his hands, Damien went to the door which was opened as if expecting his arrival from afar. The butler stood there at his wait, bowing his head,
“Good evening, Mr. Quinn,” it wasn’t his first time being here. Due to the council work like today, he had visited the mansion while also attending some of the tea parties which were held by his aunt Venetia Lawson, “Lord Nicholas will be with you shortly. Let me seat you in the study room.”
Damien nodded, stepping inside the mansion which was big as his own mansion except that his family mansion looked lavish compared to the rest of them. Once he was seated in the room, the Lord was there in less than two minutes.
Nicholas was a tall man, his rueful looking brown hairs looking messy as if a pair of hands had been running through it. The family he belonged to was one of the oldest pureblooded families, being born in third-generation just like his cousin but both of them being older to him in a matter of a few years.
“Apologies for interrupting your time, Lord Nicholas,” Damien bowed his head slightly, shaking his hand with the Lord before seating back in front of the table.
“I wasn’t expecting you to visit me. How can I help you councilman Damien?” asked Lord Nicholas, his kind looking eyes looking at him curiously.
“I have brought some news with me. The creatures who are able to morph to others, it seems like one of them has entered the council,” the Lord’s eyes narrowed, “One of the villages near the east side near the lake of bones has been attacked by witches. They have left dead bodies there which would need a lot of men for the burial process.”
Lord Nicholas pondered over the matter and then gave him a nod, “I will have some of them recruited to go have a look at the place. How odd that no one came to report it until now,” the man murmured under his breath.
“People who stumbled upon the place where killed and dragged into the hear of the village. There was a pureblooded vampire who was killed.”
“How shameful. Did they mention how?”
“They have the potion which is used to corrupt the heart. But that might have been the only one as I didn’t find another one,” Damien fille him in with what had happened. He could see the gears in Nicholas’ mind move to wonder if Damien was stronger than the man to not be injected but Damien didn’t bother to fill in with every single information.
