Clara Blackwood jumped in, clearly desperate to smooth the tension. “We propose shared intelligence streams. Your analysts, our analysts, and joint task forces. We want to find them as badly as you do.”
Rowan nodded slowly. “We accept.”
And just like that, the first true supernatural-human cooperation effort since the original peace treaty was sealed.
The holographic projection flickered out, leaving silence in its wake.
As the room cleared of everyone else, Ted Wraithmore pulled me aside.
“Drecken,” he said quietly. “I’d like to speak with you about my granddaughter.”
I perked up. “Your hybrid granddaughter? The one you mentioned before?”
He nodded. “She’s here. And she’s…struggling.”
A thrill shot down my spine of academic fascination. Hybrids were such a fascinating possibility. To truly see one? I never thought it would’ve been possible.
“A phantom-banshee hybrid,” I mused. “The fates truly are playing dice these days. May I meet her?”
Ted motioned toward the hall. “Come in.”
On cue, a girl slipped into the room almost as if she wasn’t walking…more like drifting. It was not something phantoms nor banshees did.
I tilted my head and examined her. Ted told me she was eighteen, and she had wavy, medium-length jet-black hair that ombred into a brilliant blue that flickered transparent every few seconds at the ends. Her opal eyes had no pupils and glowed faintly until her entire form flickered and went semi-transparent, like Ted’s often did.
“Opal,” Ted introduced gently, “this is Drecken. He’s the Council’s warlock representative and magical researcher.”
She gave me a tired smile. “Hi. Sorry if I fade. It happens when I’m low on magical energy.”
“When you are low?” I tilted my head further. “Phantoms fill their reserves by spending time in their phantom state, so it makes sense that your body is forcing you to fill your reserves…”
“It’s only filling my reserves halfway,” she murmured. “I also have to fill my reserves?—”
“The same way a banshee does, right?” I cut her off with my guess.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Banshees fill their reserves by astral projecting, correct?” I clarified.
It always amused me that banshees and phantoms used parts of their powers to fill their reserves.
How convenient it was!
“Yes,” she confirmed.
Her aura was incredible. There were two distinct magical essences woven together, but never fully merging, that were closest to her physical form, below where her emotional aura was. She was a banshee, but she was also a phantom. The two magical essences pushed and pulled on each other.
“I am utterly fascinated,” I admitted, stepping closer. “I’ve never come across anything like this in all my studies. How long have you been like this?”
“Always,” she said with a shrug. “My parents homeschooled me, and they’ve tried to keep me stable. But using either side of my power drains the other. I either lose my physical form or I pass out and astral project when that happens.”
Ted exhaled. “We had to hide her. We weren’t sure how other supernaturals would react.”
Opal flickered again, her phantom state taking over.
I couldn’t hide my scientific curiosity even if I tried. “This shouldn’t be possible. The genetic incompatibility alone?—”
“Drecken,” Ted warned me lightly.
