“He’s an old Warlock,” Arc said, incredibly calm given their current situation.
“No shit,” Dimitri groaned, his voice strained. “Corrupted Warlocks and Witches with mixed powers have been extinct for over a millennium. This one should have been long dead.”
“He should, yes.”
Arc seemed to ponder on this for a little while. He knew the Warlock. Could it be the one who looked after him after he was born? Warlocks didn’t live that long. Four to five hundred years, maybe, but not millennia.
The image seemed to glitch for a moment.Weird, it’s never done that before. “What do you mean, corrupted?” Arc asked then, apparently not ready to think about the lifespan of his friend.
Dimitri let out a dry chuckle, lifting his head just enough for me to see the extent of his injuries. If he weren’t as powerful, he’d be dead.
“Come on, I thought you were old,” he said. “Don’t you know who first blessed a bunch of humans, turning them into Warlocks and shifters? They were sacred beings, blessed to look after the earth and its people. What the Divines and Hellrisers made when they corrupted them is a tragedy.”
I felt Arc’s face turn into a frown. “They evolved on their own.”
The Nephilim’s laugh was cold, empty of all real amusement. Was Arc wrong? Was all thehistorywrong? Maybe Dimitri was just delirious from the blood loss and the pain.
“No, they didn’t. If it weren’t for the Astrals, there wouldn’t be any Witches or shifters.”
TheAstralsagain. Maybe looking through the prophecies was a waste of time. I still had the old book in my room and didn’t bother going through it except for the tear-stained couple of pages.
“Of course, Hellrisers and Divines had to put their stupid noses in Astral business and corrupt a few until there were no Original left. Well, at least for the Warlock and Witches…”
“Astrals are a myth.”
Arc seemed so sure that I felt stupid for even thinking about it. About the damn book and that it could be something more than just made up folklore.
“That’s what Hellrisers and Divines want you to believe. Wait until a thirty feet long Dragon comes and tries to rip your head from yourshoulders with its teeth. Or until a Phoenix fries you from the inside out and the whole city surrounding you. Or even a Chimera makes the earth split under your feet and buries you miles under the surface. They won’t feel like myths anymore.”
Dimitri coughed, spitting blood at his feet on the floor. How I wish I could feel Arc’s emotions right now, because my own were all over the place.
The book mentioned Dragons…Why didn’t I turn the pages? Why didn’t I read the whole damn thing? Phoenixes and Chimeras?What?
“You’re talking nonsense,” Arc said, shaking his head.
Dimitri let out a dry scoff. “Maybe. Or perhaps you should ask Lola about it. She was theMaidenafter all.”
The door opened before Arc could answer and the voice tsked softly.
“Now, Dimitri. What did we say about talking too much?” Arc looked in the voice’s direction and his eyes landed on the mysterious Warlock as he strolled in, his hands buried in his pockets. “We both know that some things are better left forgotten.”
His gold-flecked hazel gaze landed on Arc as he nodded in acknowledgment. “Archelaus. I hope he hasn’t bored you to death?”
“Can you explain the meaning of all this?” Arc asked, crossing his arms over his chest.He wasn’t tied up. Why wasn’t he tied up like Dimitri?
A weird glint shone in the Warlock’s eyes, the golden flecks turning red for a second.
“It’s the madness talking,” he simply answered, taking slow steps toward a faraway table, where knives and dirty bottles were placed. “You know how Nephilims are. You’ve been studying them for a while now.”
The room blurred, the image distorting before getting back to focus with Dimitri screams echoing around, dark smoke infiltrating his nostrils, mouth, ears, and all the small cuts over his body. The red of his eyes swirled and shone bright in the dimly lit room. I felt sick at the sight. Sick at Arc’s stillness.
“Nomin,” my friend said. “Is it really necessary?”
The Warlock—Nomin—dropped his outstretched arm and slowly turned to Arc, the golden flecks briefly flashing red one more time as Dimitri kept screaming and cursing.
His face contorted for a second before it transformed back into a neutral expression and he turned back to the suffering Nephilim.
“I’m only following your orders.”
