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Chapter 21 | The Alibi

Sebastian

On the odd occasion where business called both Mom and Dad away when I was a child, Clark always opted to go stay with a friend, and that left me alone with Logan. While I had to pretend to be sad about missing out on the action, secretly, I was overjoyed. Because every time this happened, Logan made a Christmas bed in one of our many lounge areas and got every junk food under the sun. We would stay up, and she would tell me about the old days of the Rogue’s.

Our ancestor, Amaya Van Helsing, begged Hecate to be turned into someone that could avenge her murdered family. Choosing to become warrior monks, Amaya and my ancestors defended the weak and innocent while always remaining devout in their faith to God.

While I expect Logan embellished the story for me, that didn’t stop me from asking her every question I could think of. We would watch bad comedy movies the rest of the night while we brainstormed what made us go from warrior monks to contract killers. Despite that though, just for that moment, everything felt normal.

Those were the moments I clung to when things got bad again, and they’re what kept me going. But what do you do when the bad times exceed the good, and the good memories are no longer enough?

Recently, the training room has become a safe haven for me, and I’ve been spending every waking moment in it. What I want doesn’t matter, so I punish myself with a different form of pain. The physical kind seems fitting, since it matches what I feel on the inside. Every day gets harder, and I’m wondering if anyone would notice if I’m gone. Sure, Alyssa Vance would be upset if I was gone because howdareher soldier leave the Earth before she gave him permission to do so?

Jude now has Jayden, and–while we weren’t exactly sweethearts–we had something special between us. Now, I can’t even climb into her room, our thing, because chances are he’ll be there. I know Dom cares about me in his own way, but he has his sisters, and soon he’ll have a wife, too. Luca will always have my back, but she has her mom and whatever this complicated drama is with Amelia. What do I have?

Nothing.

Just the next assignment and more death.

Placing my weights back on the rack, I move onto the treadmill and set it to the highest tempo available, and I sprint. Like it will somehow help me run away from my problems. While my breathing is harder and the sweat drips off me, I maintain the pace easily, and for a few more minutes, this is how I run in silence. When the treadmill winds down, I grab a towel and turn around to face my mother, who breaks into a slow clap.

Confused, looking around, I see no one else with us, and the bitch doesn’t even bother with a greeting and goes straight into my lecture. “You weren’t at breakfast this morning so I could give you your nextassignment. I don’t enjoy running after you, so don’t make it a habit.” I’m not sure how she expects me to respond to this, but she saves me from needing to say something as she hands out the file to me. Taking it from her, because what choice do I have at this point, I page through it.

It’s an effort to keep calm though when my rage at how she treats me keeps rearing its head. Having no questions, I close the file and reply through gritted teeth, “So, let me get this straight. You want me to find the killer that no one else has found yet and dispatch them in the quickest manner possible? Is that correct?” Mom places her hand on her hip, radiating superiority and irritation. “Is that a problem for you? I would imagine my son could handle the challenge and bring honor to our empire when none of the other families could.” Ever the scary boss berating her useless child.

I know when arguing is just a waste of my breath. Bowing my head, I accept it. I have no choice. How ironic and typical that this may finally be the assignment that kills me just when I was trying to find something to live for. Interrupting my thoughts, Mom says, “After that stunning display of Rogue superiority, let's train together. It's been a while.”

Mom leaves without another word. I assume to change into training gear, and I move to the weight section again. This time, I stretch out my tight muscles. Many people neglect this aspect of our training, which leads to injury. Keeping the muscles loose and flexible helps in the more complex fighting moves, something I learned from a very young age.

If things were to end now, my only regret is Jude, and that we never got a chance to have an honest conversation about our feelings for each other. Now it’s too late because she’s being married off, a rite of passage for all ofus, apparently. Instead, Jude has to spend the rest of her life with Jayden, not me.

It’s not like our families encourage divorce. We only allow affairs and power struggles. Because what would everyone say if we prioritized happiness over power?

Now, Jayden gets to make Jude her extra sweet coffee in the morning and bring her home savory pies instead of dessert because she hates most sweet treats. Jayden gets to eat the pineapple off her pizza, because even though she loves it, she developed a mild allergy to it a few years ago. Jayden gets to learn how much she cares for the people she loves, and that’s why she has such a temper, not just because she’s a Druid.

It's at that moment Mom enters the training room again in full work out gear and grabs a flail from the weapons rack and starts swinging. We’re encouraged in our training to be adept at all weapons because we never know what situation we’re walking into, and Mom seems to take this instruction seriously as well. Interesting.

She may be older, but judging by her footwork, she’s still got it. Even if she acted like training was always beneath her. Mom turns her back on me for a moment, and I briefly entertain the thought of sneaking up and slitting her throat. It would serve her right for not paying attention, just like she’s told me on countless occasions. It would be almost poetic, really. Alyssa Vance has taken so much from me and deserves nothing else but death. A painful one. She should suffer the way I did and continue to do.

First she took my sibling, then Kyla and now Jude. But I work to keep the rage from my body because deep down I know now is not the time. Not yet. But I can put her in her place. Grabbing a wooden rod, I throw itat my mom, and she turns just in time to catch it with her free hand, finally paying attention to the potential threat behind her.

“Fight me.” I bite out.

Mom remains silent as she returns the flail to its place and takes a defensive pose. Not giving her any more time than that, I attack. She dodges me effortlessly. Man, she is quick. She twirls and runs up a wall using her speed, and just like that, I find her weakness. Her ego. Her pathetic need to show off with the more flashy elements of our gifts is what will be her demise. She yelps as I hit her knee with the rod, falling on her back while I point the rod at her neck. I can’t help but dig in the insult. “If you were on assignment, you would be dead. Simple is far more effective. You taught me that.”

She inhales, probably to reprimand me, but I talk over her. “I am exactly who you created me to be. Remember that too.”

Dropping the wooden rod and leaving the room because training no longer holds appeal for me, she shouts at my back, “Where are you going?” Turning to face her with a glare, I tell her, “To see the humans. Exactly like you instructed me to. I wouldn’t be surprised if the murders and missing humans are connected.”

Running up to my room to take the world's quickest shower so I can get out of this place, I briefly remember the first time I asked my mom about the Human Faction and why we allow them to dictate so much in our world. In a shocking turn of events, it was one of the rare cases in my life where Mom nurtured my curiosity instead of destroying it.

A few years after we came to America, we were in danger of dying out because our families were too small. While the Undead were the first to realize we could have children with humans without losing our Supernaturalabilities, the Rogues were the ones that made it happen. I remember when I asked why we never partnered with other Supernaturals; my mom had told me in her uppity voice, “No family should have that amount of power. Imagine a Druid-Rogue hybrid, or an Undead-Sorcerer hybrid? Their power would be unmatched. The rules are there for a reason.”

So the Rogues made it their mission to find the best humans suitable for this task and created the Human Faction. The humans got a safe place to live and everything they could have wanted while we trained them to become the best versions of themselves. Leadership has changed several times since then, and I have a good relationship with their current leader.

I’m ready in record time and out the front door, grateful to have avoided Mom again and on my way to the Human Faction. It doesn’t take me long to get there, and I park on the street instead of bothering with the admin. I have a code for their gate, sure, but it's much easier to walk through than parking a car inside.

The beige home looks like it belongs to a normal family. Nothing about it stands out, but the bay windows give it a sense of old school glamor that seems to belong on this street. Punching my code into the security gate, it beeps and lets me enter as I walk towards the house. Walking past some children playing on the lawn outside, I withhold a smile because of the memories that they bring up. One of the rare, good ones.