Hey guys, I am unfortunatly sick so the scond half of this weeks chapter migth be somewhat delayed. I hope to have it up by friday
(Pov Jason)
May 19th 2026. 07:50 Pm
He had expected to be taken further; after all, when someone breaks into your house, breaks down your door, and drags you out kicking and screaming, you expect to get shoved in a black van without windows. He had only kicked, though. Retaining some dignity would have been… nice.
No, he had been frog-marched into the barn just across from the house, sat down in a foldable lawn chair, one his family owned, he had noted, in front of a foldable table that his family also owned. It would have been somewhat offensive had he not been too focused on the armed guard standing behind him and too busy keeping his breathing under control.
He had no idea where Chloe was, though he had seen them frog-marching her past the barn toward somewhere else. They had shared a look when it happened, but they hadn't been able to say anything to each other. She had looked confused, desperate almost, and worst of all defeated in a way. He doubted he had looked any different.
Currently, whoever his assailants were, they were busy looking for something. From what little he saw through the windows into the house anyway. One of them, the one who seemed to be in charge, was talking to two of the others. Including the one he suspected was Eagle Two, the guy who broke his door down and that he kicked in the face. It wasn't on purpose, but he did not feel guilty about it.
A shiver ran down his spine as he locked eyes with the woman, the one with the sword, the person that he guessed to be in charge. At least she was giving the orders. His first impression of her was that she wasn't the type of person you wanted to piss off, and that she might actually do something about it if you did. At least that's what the scowl on her face made him think.
No, please, I am not here, don't… God damn it. She started walking over, a strange, ornately carved wooden box in one hand. It really didn't fit the whole undercover strike team/cartel elite vibe these people had going on.
She pulled out the chair across from him, putting a tablet face down on the table and the box next to it. She sat down and started arranging the two things she had in front of her. She opened the box, revealing a cushioned interior in purple velvet, also ornately decorated. She sifted aside a soft piece of fabric, revealing a stone carved with what looked like… runes? It reminded him of the symbols he had seen in Sophia's magical circle or Jasmine's book.
She placed it gently on the plastic table, taking great care with the thing. Like it cost a fortune, perhaps it did. She leaned back in her chair and just looked at him.
The silence between them stretched into what felt like infinity. He wouldn't let it get to him. It was an obvious interrogation tactic. It wouldn't get to him. It couldn't.
Jason shifted uncomfortably, unable to keep holding her gaze. The woman smirked before picking up her tablet.
“Jason Smallers. A below-average student at Fairvern High. You turned eighteen in early February and work at the local bar and grill. You watch far more rather strange adult entertainment than might strictly speaking be healthy, and having been in that house, I can guarantee you that the rest of your family knows.” She glanced up at him. “And really–vampires?”
I am sorry, what the… His face was on fire, the heat spreading all the way down his chest. His heart was still beating rapidly. “How do you even know that?” He whispered almost to himself.
The woman's smirk turned into a full-on smile; it would have been a warm one had it met her eyes. “We're the government, Mister Smallers. If there is something about you we want to know, we will.”
That did not reassure him, though he figured it wasn't supposed to. Still, he had other things he needed to know.
“What have you done with Chloe?”
“Miss Maison has been temporarily detained for questioning as a possible witness. She will be released after questioning. We have no interest in her whatsoever outside that.”
She swiped on her tablet. “Now on to what we are actually discussing. Are you aware of why you have been arrested, Mister Smallers?”
Arrested. So they are the government. He had some idea, of course. Sophia's little ritual was the only thing he could think of. Maybe it had something to do with Jasmine…
“N… No?”
She looked at the stone on the table, like she expected it to do something. She looked slightly disappointed that it didn't.
“On the tenth of May this year, did something strange or abnormal happen in this barn?” Her voice was carefully modulated, remaining almost entirely neutral.
So they're after Sophia then. He couldn't let anything slip. That would lead them to Sophia, which would eventually lead back to Jasmine. God only knew how this all would affect his parents once they found out, or if his sister simply disappeared.
“No, not…” The entire table shook as the rock started to vibrate.
Jason stared at the thing. The infernal thing had just seemed strange mere seconds ago; now it made his stomach tie itself up in tight knots.
“I would–” He looked back up at her as her voice had caught his attention. Her previously somewhat warm, if only congenial, smile had turned malicious, predatory in a way that was deeply smug. Like a cat that had caught the mouse and was now just playing with its food. “-- advise you not to lie to me, Mister Smallers; I will know if you do.”
His eyes flicked back down to the stone. It's a god damn lie detector!! He felt like he needed to puke. How am I supposed to keep secrets from that? The air felt colder than it had a second ago, prickling his skin.
“So you do know something strange happened here on the tenth. That's now well established. Did a ritual occur here on the tenth?”
“No.” The stone vibrated again. The word had tumbled out before he could even think about it. It was a stupid answer, but something inside him had to try.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.” His voice was quiet.
“Excellent, so you can learn. Honesty's always the best policy, so do keep that up.”
This wasn't good. His thoughts were racing; he needed a way to plan around this. It couldn't detect absolute truth, right? If it did, using it to interrogate him would have been a waste. Maybe it worked on belief or knowledge. Did it then work off his knowledge or hers?
“Lieutenant.” One of the others signaled for her to come over.
Jason tried to steady his breath; it had been shaking the entire time. He wasn't succeeding. He was screwed, royally, massively screwed. He wasn't going to be able to stall them until Jasmine came, if she came at all.
The pendant weighed heavily around his neck, grounding him from the near panic attack that was bubbling right under the surface. The weight itself switched far too quickly between warm and secure, and anchoring in the way the cement shoes a mafia snitch might be anchoring. Would it actually be good if she came, or would it simply get her killed?
It took a long while before the apparently lieutenant returned. She looked annoyed, though, as seemed to be her calling card; she hid it well.
“Now let's get on with this; then we can move you somewhere more secure.”
Jason blinked. He knew he was under arrest, but that sounded far more ominous than just prison. Was he getting sent to Gitmo? Was that the punishment for doing magic without a license?
“Ok, calm down there, pretty boy. We might be black bagging you, but it's not too bad. Not a lot of people can do what you did. So my understanding is that you will be getting a choice: either you enroll in the conservatory, or you get a few years or decades in maximum security. No need to panic.” It was surprisingly human, not the strict, confident, carefully neutral or patronizing tone she had earlier. However, he didn't know how he felt about being called pretty boy. He definitely didn't like the idea of being dragged off to prison for a few decades.
He nodded, an acknowledgment of the small act of humanity she had offered him. It might just be so it was easier to question him, but still it made things better somewhat.
This all also meant that Sophia had succeeded. He had long figured out that she did the ritual to prove that she could. Even without him getting to know Jasmine, Sophia would have gotten the chance she wanted.
“Well then, next question. What were you trying…” Something beeping quietly approached, carried by Eagle Two. The beeping sound became more intense as he carried it closer to the two of them.
It got especially strong as Eagle Two held it over his chest. Whatever warmth had been on the lieutenant's face earlier was gone; her jaw was now visibly tensed. Eagle Two reached out, pulling on the string around his neck until he freed the pendant from between his T-shirt and chest.
“Mister Smallers, what is that? And what is it transmitting?”
This was bad, not that the situation wasn't bad already; it was terrible, in fact. But now, it had gotten worse, so much worse. There was no hint that Jasmine was anywhere close, and his only lifeline was about to be gone. He couldn't really lie about it either… at least he couldn't get away with it, could he? What if he just didn't answer as such?
“How would I know?”
The thing didn't vibrate. That meant he would need to say factual statements or answers in some way.
Eagle Two gripped him by the shirt, lifting him until he was so close to the blood-covered face of the Latino man that their noses almost met.
“Listen here, you little shit. Answer. The. Fucking. Question. Or I will rip out your fingernails.” The man spat out the words.
The stone vibrated, shaking the table. So it was a lie; he wasn't getting tortured. Or they simply weren't planning on ripping out his fingernails. At least Eagle Two wasn't.
A hand shot up, grabbing one of Eagle Two's arms. “Let him go now!” The lieutenant was standing, giving the Latino man a hard stare.
He pushed Jason back into his chair. The thing tipped dangerously far backward before it dropped forward again. The motion threw his stomach into an even greater uproar than it was already in.
“Mister Smallers, have you ever been in contact with a noctian?” The lieutenant looked paler than she did just seconds ago. Her voice was tight with tension.
“I can't say I have.” The stone vibrated. He had a feeling it would notice that. The question had caught him flat-footed, coming out of nowhere.
A high-pitched screeching noise was growing in the background.
(Pov Lieutenant Julia)
May 19th 2026. 08:17 Pm
The barn was deathly quiet. There was some rustling of equipment being moved around, but Julia didn't notice any of it.
She had seen it when Rodriguez lifted Jason up. Two small, well-healed, but still noticeable wounds on the boy's neck.
She should have seen it earlier; she just hadn't been looking for it. Why would she? The ear wrap had also seemed like just a piece of jewelry. It really wasn't. She had seen this before, not much, but a few times. She had thought about it like how farmers earmark cattle, though she knew that was unkind. The boy was a thrall, or was becoming one anyway. The lie he told simply confirmed it.
Julia steadied her breath. “Mister Smallers, are you a thrall, or currently being turned into one?”
“I am not a slave.” The boy's voice was filled with offense, though it was plainly fake.
“That's not what I asked.”
“I don't know what a thrall is.” The stone vibrated. It was an obvious lie. He was clearly covering for someone. The pendant around his neck was transmitting something… Fucker! He was buying time.
“Is there a GPS transmitter active in that pendant?”
The boy didn't say anything. It was as good as an admission that it did, but she needed to confirm it. There was no chance in hell she was keeping her people here if there was fucking noctian on her way.
Julia's eyelid twitched. In one smooth motion, she unsheathed her knife, embedding it hard in the plastic table less than an inch from the boy's hands. “Answer the fucking question,” she seethed.
“Jesus Christ. NO!” His hands recoiled. His face had gone pale as the dead. And yet for all that his desperate answer might have seemed honest to some, the stone still shook the table.
Both of them locked their gaze on the thing. That was exceptionally bad. Earlier there was the chance that the bitch didn't know something was wrong. Now that chance felt faint. It could be permanently active, of course. But she couldn't take the risk; the thing had multiple buttons, and there was no chance in hell he hadn't activated it.
They were not equipped to fight a noctian. They had the numbers, sure, but their armor and weaponry weren't intended for that kind of fight. The explosives would help, as would the bayonets. She could also hold her own, at least for a while. She wasn't as fragile as the others. And she had… other abilities.
She became very aware of the circular pendant she wore on a simple string around her neck. The metal felt colder than she knew it was, heavier too. It might be more than a year since she used those powers, but she had upheld her side of the pact. She hadn't forgotten how to either. It was difficult to forget how to use something that saved your life more than once.
Her fingers pushed against her throat mic. “All units. Mission abort. Secure any identified evidence and prepare for extraction. High risk of incoming fang; fix bayonets. Repeat mission abort. Hawk One out.”
They would need to leave as soon as possible. The brat looked terrified, but something about him told her he wouldn't tell her enough for it to matter. Not in the time available to them.
Julia stood up, placing the stone carefully back in its box. Pulling her knife out of the plastic table, she cut the pendant from around the boy's neck. They could have used it as a lure, but anyone who went with it would die a very painful, probably slow death. She was not in the habit of wasting her men like that. She crushed the tracker under her heel.
She had known a few noctians and thralls. She didn't relish the idea of being on the receiving end of what was coming for them now. She had seen noctians fight; hell, she had fought with a few of them back in Scandinavia. She would rather be facing down a marrowsnatcher again than be anywhere near here when the brat's wife got here. Marrowsnatchers might be more powerful; they might actively hunt humans, but at least they weren't intelligent. Not in the way humans were.
She heard Rodriguez swear quietly as he attached the bayonet to the end of his rifle.
“Hawk Four, Hawk Five –” The two men with launchers standing by the door straightened. “– Load concussion grenades. Eagle Two, pack the rock and then get the target and the girl ready for transport.”
They needed to get the fuck out as soon as possible. They probably had some time, but she didn't want to risk it. Command could pull the specialists trained for this bullshit when they were out.
The sounds of gunfire came from… Inside the house. Julia's heart was throbbing in her ears.
“Contact! Contact! Fang engaged…” There was a sound like the gurgling of blood before the signal cut.
“Sparrow, get the fuck out of that building immediately. Hawk One out.”
They needed to act now.
“Hawk Four and Five take up position–” She pointed to the treeline in the direction of their vehicles. “Minimum separation fifteen yards. Eagle Two, bring me the target, and let the girl go; she isn't one of the objectives.” She was most likely just some random civilian, a witness perhaps, but that wasn't Julia's problem. If they were exceptionally lucky, she would distract the rather angry bloodsucker heading their way.
She quickly listed the units that were to leave immediately and who would be with her in the rear guard. She was not ordering anyone into that building; it would be a massacre if they tried to fight the bitch where they couldn't use their most effective weapons. Though even with those, they might only get one chance. They needed something better. She had an idea; it might not kill her or capture her. But it could get them out alive, or at least more of them.
Rodriguez pushed the brat down to his knees beside her.
“Ok, everyone find every light source you have and throw them out in a half circle in front of us. After that, ready concussion grenades.”
She let go of her rifle, letting it hang from the strap, and she drew her sword and pistol. She heard a loud thud as one of the operators that had been in the house dropped himself from a second story and started limping away. His arm did not bend the right way, and she doubted the blood covering him was his, or the Noctians for that matter.
“Oh familiar mine, you implore I, light in my blade sheath, to weaken my foe.” She said the words like she had done a thousand times before. They weren't in English, of course, but she knew them by rote and couldn't hear the difference anymore.
Just as she uttered the last word, a pale green light passed over her sword, granting it a persistent green hue.
This had to work; if it didn't, it would kill them all. She stepped behind Jason, tightening the grip around her pistol before she leveld it against the back of his head.