Looking around, he took in the surroundings of the manor grounds in the daylight, a small smile twitching his lips as he watched Edward retrieve his and Deion’s children from the carriage. Though it needed a lot of work, especially the rotten wood of the large deck he stood upon that branched into the lake, it truly was a beautiful estate with acres of land that stretched across over hills that framed the background of the house.
Xander fiddled with the hat in his hands, finding the heat uncomfortable whilst dressed in his dark suit and leather gloves, but he refused to show his markings in front of others, especially around the manor staff, whom he had not yet properly met. It made him uneasy not knowing people, and he knew he would have to acquaint himself with them all, ensuring that they would keep their status a secret as Striga had promised him they would. But he wasn’t one to believe in the promises of others; he would determine for himself if they could be trusted.
“We are only here to be closer to Striga, to keep an eye on her. This house belonged to Divina, and now that she is no longer with us, we must stay close to one another.” Xander put an arm around Deion as they ventured back through the gardens towards the manor, watching with a small smile as Edward chased the children through the flowerbeds, managing to catch Lucien as Dreigo and Ana yelled at him. “But yes, brother, this is all ours. For now.”
As they made their way up the stone steps, Xander briefly looked into the minds of the staff that had lined up to greet their new master of the house. Whilst a few were scared of his kind, they all respected Daemons, stemming from the respect they had for Divina.
She had died peacefully in her sleep a few months ago, likely due to old age. She knew her time was coming, all Incantrices with Vanticini abilities wore their unique brand of the star constellation that would be above them in the sky on the day they would die. A constant reminder that even those who could predict and perhaps change the future could not change their fate.
The staff of the manor had been loyal to her, and still were. Xander was hopeful that he could sway them to treat him with the same respect. He had a way with people, not just because of his powers, but he enjoyed connecting with others and reaching mutual grounds of trust and friendship with those who were worthy of it.
As Xander reached the front door, he heard a familiar voice call out to him as another carriage arrived. One from Amara House.
“Lord Alexander Duran,” Striga greeted in a teasing voice. She knew how much Xander hated his false title. “It has been a long time. You should know it is rude for a gentleman to keep an old lady waiting.”
Xander smirked as he took her hand to help her out the carriage. They had never been ones for formalities, but he wanted to play the part in front of the house staff, for now at least.
“Lady Striga, you are as glorious as ever.”
Striga laughed, an unladylike cackle. “Come, we have much to discuss before I return home for supper.”
As she greeted Deion and Edward and made her way up the steps to the manor, he couldn’t help but notice she was so frail now, so small and fragile—nothing like the young woman full of life he met decades ago. Xander’s eyes flickered to her carriage, his ears picking up another heartbeat that didn’t belong to the driver, but upon Striga’s insistent request he join her, he followed her into the house.
She led them through the entrance, a tall door made of oak carved with the most intricate designs, and into a large hallway lined with stone columns and floor made of polished marble. The hallway split off into several large rooms, each with their own character and tall windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling made of stained glass. The extravagant chandelier that hung above their heads as they ascended the huge, mahogany staircase to the upper floor was breathtaking. Xander wondered how he had not admired the beauty of the home when he had been here for their meeting eight years ago.
“A quick tour before we begin,” Striga wheezed out as she struggled to climb the stairs whilst leaning on her walking stick. “Downstairs you have the kitchens, library, dining room, drawing room and main hall. Up here you have the study and several chambers.”
“Striga, let me carry you, you must not tire yourself.” Xander offered his arm to her, but she swatted him aside with her stick.
“Nonsense, boy! I can still walk up the bloody stairs.”
Deion laughed as she stormed up the staircase. Striga had been known for her short temper, and yet it always took Xander by surprise. The older she got, the harsher her words became and the more she seemed to enjoy calling Xander, a man who had been alive for over two centuries, a boy.
They reached the study, where Striga threw herself down onto a sofa in the corner of the room. Deion and Edward wandered around, studying the books on the shelves, whilst Xander movedto stand behind the wooden desk and looked out the window, his eyes drifting across the lake again.
Striga fanned herself, clearly desperate to cool her body down from the heat and exhaustion from the staircase. Xander just smirked at her, knowing she regretted not taking his offer of being carried up the stairs. Such a stubborn woman.
“Now that you have finally arrived—three weeks late, I might add—let us talk.” Striga sat upright and stared Xander in the eye.
“My apologies,” he sighed. “We had trouble back at our old settlement. The mortal village near our home was attacked. We wanted to help the survivors as best we could before we came to you.”
“By Umbranimae, I assume?”
Xander nodded, running a hand through his curly hair, a habit of his when he was stressed. He knew the villages near Striga’s and Divina’s homes had experienced similar disturbances with Umbranimae sightings, but the attack on the village near where he and his brothers had been was far worse than they had anticipated. So many mortals were killed, slaughtered in their beds by shadowmen that crept through the night. If the Lamia leaders hadn’t gotten there in time, if Xander hadn’t sensed the disruptions in the darkness, the entire village would have been lost. All of its inhabitants would belong to Caligo now.
“How did you stop the attacks?” Striga questioned him.
“We didn’t. We could only slow them down and advance on them until they retreated back to the Intermundum.” Xander walked round to the front of the desk and sat down on it, facing Striga. He took one of his gloves off, showing the dark markings running down his fingers. “I was able to control and disperse the shadows of the Umbranima soldiers, long enough for us to wound their bodies and bring the survivors to safety. But it was not enough to destroy them. My power is not enoughto reach the lost souls that are trapped and hidden behind their darkness.”
Striga shifted, a look of wonder on her face as she glanced out the window across the lake. “A Nocte can control the shadows of darkness,” she muttered. She slowly brought her gaze back to Xander, a smile forming on her face. “But you need a Luciferus to control the light of the souls.”
Deion sat down next to her, patting her knee with his large hand. Xander knew him well enough to sense when he was using his Medici ability. “With all respect, Striga, you are not the Incantrix you once were. You cannot offer your abilities in this fight, it will not be enough.”
Striga pushed Deion’s hand away, tutting at him and rolling her eyes. She stood from the sofa with slightly more ease, before tottering through the door onto the landing and gesturing for them to join her. “I am not talking about myself. I think it is time you met my great-granddaughter. Adriana Clarke.”
Xander stepped onto the landing and followed Striga’s prideful gaze to the hallway below, to find Ana, Lucien and Dreigo standing clustered around a young woman holding a stack of books. She was crouched low on the floor, her dirty skirts pooling around her, as she spoke to the children in a soft voice. As her head finally tilted up and her eyes met his, the hint of a smirk on her face echoing the challenging look she gave, a jolt ran through him.
It was her, his strange Incantrix, his saviour. She was a Luciferus descended from one of his closest friends, and she had a name, a beautiful name that sang to the darkness within him.Adriana.
