Chapter 325: Blocking The Witch Hunter
To the oblivious, this house was certainly what Lisa presented it to be—her home.
But a quick tour around the house, and Killian knew that it was nothing but a mansion stacked up on the lies. The entire space was devoid of any personal belongings; there was no clutter or mess around the entire mansion. Something which struck as weird because Killian knew that it was impossible for a person to have no clutter when they were living in a place. Every piece of crockery that was sitting in the kitchen was brand new, with no scratches or evidence of being used. Even the restroom seemed to be so clean that it looked brand new.
Killian knew, as a matter of fact, that unless they had secretly deployed mages or witches to clean these places, there was no way the space could be this clean unless it had never been used.
The cleaning supplies in the small closet next to the restroom were all brand new. Even the mop looked so fashionably clean that Killian could have mistaken it for a model ready to be sold at any moment. There were no trash bags in the trash can. No markings on the walls; the paint was gleaming with no scratches.
Everything that he or any sane person would consider a daily necessity of life was missing from this house. He raised his head and took another look around the place. His eyes, for a second, caught a glimmer of something old and forgotten. Frowning, he walked toward the staircase, but as soon as he came to a stop, the old, broken wooden statue was gone and replacing its place was a fine marble statue. He frowned harder. For he was quite certain that he had seen something old standing right here.
"There is something weird about this place," Killian muttered as he reached out and touched the statue. It was hard and smooth and a little cold to touch, just as a marble would be, but he had this feeling—that he was looking at something that didn’t exist.
His beast prowled inside of him. Contained but enraged. They had other things to do. Things better than looking around a weird-looking house. Like looking for their mate. Yes, mate. His beast had already decided that he was going to take Inez as his mate, and Killian had to. The importance of Inez in their life had far exceeded the point of just a woman they were sleeping with.
The fading light in the room started to cast long shadows. His beast let out yet another growl. He had been tenser than a bowstring since they arrived in the territory, and now he had only gotten even more tense.
And his agitation was seeping so deeply into their bond that Killian started to feel tenser by the minute.
Taking out his phone, he looked at the picture— Inez, sleeping peacefully beside him. Her long platinum hair was scattered all over the pillow, and her mouth was slightly ajar. The woman looked so much at peace that her expression alone brought a sort of relief within him. He zoomed in and traced her face with the pad of his thumb. Tracing the curves of her face through the screen, he tried to recall Inez’s warmth along with her scent. A poor substitute for the real thing, but the situation had left him with no other choice. The longing to touch her, to breathe her unique scent, was clawing within him.
Being apart from her was simply agonising. And it was growing excruciating with each passing second. Because he did not have the slightest bit of an idea where the woman even was.
"I should have never allowed her to leave," Killian muttered; he should have gone with her. Stayed with her even when she demanded to leave on her own.
His beast growled within his head, sharing his agreement. If it weren’t for this mission, which would ultimately reward him with a clue to reach Inez, he would have never bothered to come to this damned place. Killian texted Selene about Inez, only to receive the same response as before. He had been doing this since he left the pack, and not once did the status change.
He tightened his jaw. This mission was simply intolerable. Once he got his hands on Inez, he was going to wrap her up and send her to his lodge. There would no longer be any more instances of detective plays. She was going to stay under his care, under his wing, surrounded by a bunch of guards. He wouldn’t listen to anything that she had to say after this.
A light cough interrupted his chain of thoughts. He turned and looked at Finn, who was holding the mana nucleus in his hands. It was similar to a crystal ball. Except it was tiny, the size of a baseball. There were intricate golden designs around it. But when Killian took a good look at it, he realised that they were runes that kept running across the smooth surface.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Third Eye called," Finn responded casually. "He said that he sensed something amiss through the mana nucleus."
This was their last defence mechanism, which could summon the ghosts chained to Third Eye. Though for only a short while, it was a wonderful smoke screen, something that Killian had used only once.
Killian dropped his gaze to the man who was peering at him through the mana nucleus and heard him say, "Something is interfering with the magical currents. It’s strange because this mana nucleus can work in the presence of anything—I mean anything."
"Define ’strange."
"I don’t know how to explain it in simpler terms for shifters like you," said Third Eye as he interlocked his fingers. "However, when I say it’s strange, I mean usually magic is alive on its own; it carries a resonance or maybe frequency. Witch hunters can detect magic through patterns imposed on it, and we can read trails that it leaves behind. But this magic—it’s not obeying. I cannot look for the pattern. I cannot see the pattern. It’s like I am trying to read smoke. The more I try to capture it, the more it slips away."