Chapter 330 – Protecting my Own

Sinclair

I growl down at the man before me, who is younger than I thought he would be, for one with

such power. He has thick black hair and a day’s worth of stubble on his thin cheeks. The man

glares up at me with dark, angry eyes and opens his mouth to speak but before he can, I slap him

– hard with an open palm.

The man gasps with surprise and pain, his eyes going wide as he stares down at the floor, and I

smirk. I doubt this man has been slapped anytime recently, if ever. He has the smug look of

someone used to being in charge.

But he’s in my house now.

“You’ll speak when we tell you to speak,” I growl, and then I turn to the head of my

reconnaissance team, who is standing against the wall, his hands on his knees, panting a little.

Craig isn’t a small man to see him so undone by the efforts suggests that this diminutive priest

is, indeed, powerful in other ways.

“How did you catch him?” I snap. Craig looks up at me and does his best to straighten up.

“We followed the leads, sir,” he replies, looking me in the eyes, “that we gleaned from the

conversation with the other priest, who wished to remain anonymous. They were…fruitful. We

found this one’s lair, for lack of a better word. It was actually in a sewer -in an abandoned

maintenance room. He was living there doing…” Craig hesitates and then shrugs. “Forgive me, Sir,

for the dramatic language, but ‘arcane magics‘ are the only words coming to my mind now. Lizard

skins…and and snail shells, in jars – he had a cauldron –”

“Thank you,” I say, interrupting and nodding towards the head of my investigative team. “You.

will give your details to Alastair, as soon as you can. For now, though I want everyone here for

the interrogation.” I lean forward towards the priest, who watches me with wary eyes and a

clenched jaw.

continue, lowering my voice and slowing my words, “will

if need

his

makes him faulter. And then I step

tensed, ready to rip this man’s head off. Roger

he looks down at the man strapped to

are. And what your people want with my

Roger, a too–wide expression that shows all of his teeth. “No,” he growls, a

at him blandly for a

standing behind the priest who whips

it swiftly against the priest’s neck.

bolt flies through the priest’s body, making him shriek and twist

it away quickly. The priest goes a little slack in his chair,

of the chair to get the

people want with

narrow, though, as the priest looks up at Roger again and just huffs a short, humorless

“It doesn’t matter,” the priest says, shaking his head and holding his

growing on his face. “You are already…too

starts to laugh – really, truly laugh, as a crash

upstairs –

stops as I recognize it, instantly,

Ella

sitting here, tense, in my rocking chair by

it always is – shushing him quietly as he falls asleep

a little tapping sound at the glass of

curiously, expecting a little bird – maybe

terror flooded me when I saw a black–masked face calmly tapping on

turning to ice as I froze, as he quietly pointed to the basinet and mouthed

for him.” (2)

it seemed to go so fast – the man pulled back his arm, and made a fist,

window

he did it – it should have broken his hand – Sinclair paid to have those

into the room through the hole he made with his fist, the

the window cracking

the floor, only half an instant later, my instincts came

my child’s rolling basinet behind me and screamed –

shove the rocking chair away and back into the corner

gets to his feet at the foot of the window. As he stands, my heart

him, working their way up to

unnaturally fast –

now, grinning at me, starting

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