His snark had no effect on the man. Expression serious, Sin implored, “Who has been hurting you, Cecil?”
“Who said anyone is hurting me? Maybe I’m just clumsy, ever consider that?”
Sin looked thoroughly unimpressed by Cecil’s lie. The rise of the man’s right brow clearly said ‘you can’t be serious’.
“Why do you even care?”
“I cannot force the information from you. Though I am positive it was a relative of some kind. No one else would have access to you at such a young age.”
“And how do you know they aren’t recent?”
“Cecil, I am old enough to know an old scar when I see one. And unlike people, scars tend to not lie.”
Cecil couldn’t argue with that. Why was he even trying to lie in the first place? Sin knowing about his father wouldn’t affect him. Who knows, maybe the bastard would finally suffer a bit.
Looking into Sin’s eyes, Cecil hoped he was wrong—that just maybe the man was really trying to help. “My father, Ernest Baxter.”
That announcement led to a whole slew of new questions that Cecil refused to answer.
“Cecil, I am only trying to?—”
Benji returning with his stuff interrupted whatever Sin planned to say. “Hey, guys,” the man greeted, setting Cecil’s backpack down in a chair, and rolling his small suitcase next to it.
Sin tsked, “Benji, it’s rude to just walk in. Knock next time.”
Blushing, the man rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.” Benji cleared his throat awkwardly and plucked Drop from his shoulder. “Ah, here, I believe this is yours,” Benji said, giving the little creature over.
Smiling sadly, Cecil rubbed the top of Drop’s head. “Can I have a tissue?”
“Of course.” Sin got up, pulled one from the box on the side table and handed it over.
Laying the tissue flat on his right palm, he placed Drop on top of it. Despite knowing it was not truly living, it still pained Cecil to steal the last bit of energy holding the arcanid together.
But he did it anyway. Cecil pulled it back, his skin tingled as his essence returned and Drop became nothing more than a puddle of blood that quickly soaked into the tissue.
Benji cried out, “Why?” Tears started to form in the man’s eyes, a look of horror on his face.
“It was time…” Cecil said softly.
Casting a spell that took away the brittleness, he then began to fold the blood-coated tissue.
“Time for what?! He…it…” Benji’s struggles to find the right words ended in a distressed whimper.
“Benji, arcanids can only stay outside the body for so long,” Sin soothed. “You must have noticed how labored the creature's movements were.”
Cecil had no intention of explaining or justifying his actions to anyone, so he ignored the two men and continued with his task.
With one last fold, the tissue was now a small, puffy one-inch square. The puffiness went away when Cecil cast another spell. Flattening completely, it was now just slightly thicker than a piece of paper.
“It would have been cruel to let it continue. Even if it is not really alive,” Sin stressed.
Cecil flinched at the word ‘alive’.
Benji was still upset, but he appeared to have accepted what Sin had told him. The man got easily attached to things. It was the main reason why the northern headquarters was usually filled with strays and rescued animals. They rehomed most of them. That said, Sin had no doubt that they would have been overrun by now if he hadn’t limited the number Benji was allowed to keep. Sin found it a tad surprising that the only animal currently living at the branch was a lone hedgehog named Reginald the Third—there were no previous.
Despite his somewhat outlandish appearance, Benji was one of Sin’s more sensitive members, and tended to overreact. Which was why he usually made sure Benji was not assigned any cases that would devastate him.
Sin supposed he should stop coddling the man, but he saw most of his members as family—if not close, then extended. And Benji’s puppy-like nature had gained him a special place in Sin’s heart. His feelings toward the vampire were close to those of an overprotective parent.
