PART 13
"How could you let this happen?" the woman yelled, throwing a hardcover book at the man standing in front of her. He didn't flinch from his place when the book knocked on his head, leaving a trickle of blood. "How many were there?" she asked. A gold pendant hung from her neck, dangling just above the desk. "The Alpha team only found one dead body, but they have reason to believe it was more than one." The man wore casual clothing, his eyes on the ground, hands behind his back. If he was scared, he didn't show any sign of it. "Who killed it?" The woman was calm now. She sat in her seat, pressing her finger under the table. A small hidden compartment popped open. It contained expensive cigars and a bare blade. It had no marking, but the steel shined like she polished it every day. The pommel was decorated with a blue gem, and above it was the insignia of the Magister's house. Fadington. The house which had produced generations of Magister who had proved to be powerful, and just.
She picked up a cigar and lit it. "The CCTV stopped working a minute before the attack. We don't have any leads yet." She took a long puff of the cigar and exhaled it through her nose. Of course, they damaged the CCTV before the attack. With no command, she waved him away. Beatrice Williams took in another long puff, tasting the bitter taste of ecstasy, which helped her escape the stressful times which came with the job. Her white hair was tied back in a bun, and her skin aged before her time. A sacrifice which came with the position. The Chief of the Citadel.
The attack at the hospital was a heavy blow for the Citadel. Word will spread like wildfire, till the Magister hears about it. She needed a plan. Beatrice pressed the button on the speaker and said, "Anna, get me the list of everyone who was invited to the party."
"Of course madam," with that, her secretary rushed off.
A knock came at her door. "Come in." It was 7pm, but everyone was working overtime today, which meant she might not go home tonight after all. Desmond, the Alpha team leader, entered. He was still in the Slayers' uniform; dark blue t-shirt and pant with the red leather jacket. "What did you find out?" she said, hoping for some good news. "My team caught two cursed ones. They searched the hospital thoroughly, and we found no sign of anyone else. I think they were only there to instill fear and not harm. The Chairman would like to see you in his house." He stopped. "Where is the body?" she asked.
"In the Oracle wing. The body is preserved, while the other two are being held in the Sky Vaults." Desmond answered.
"Good. Make sure your team is patrolling the entire district. They may have a hideout where the spells were cast from and get me any DNA which can prove who killed the cursed one." Desmond nodded, bowed, and left. Now one thing was left to deal with. Chairman Vidarr.
The white Ghost rolls royce stopped beside the extravagant fountain, which showed two little boys reaching for an open book. LED lights shone from the blurred writings on the marble crafted book. The driver opened the back door of the car, and Beatrice stepped out. She had changed her clothes for the meeting, a light pink pencil dress. The butler had opened the front door, and she was shown inside.
The Vidarr mansion was the largest and the oldest one in the city. Considering the family had a huge role in driving away the witches and necromancers when the first Magister first stepped foot in the country. The North Wing was a private collection museum and library where the chairman hosted some of his major milestones. While the east and west wing were the residential areas, and the south wing contained bar, cinema, poker room and a game room. Beatrice walked two flights of stairs, which were covered in red carpet, and were shown in the Chairman's study. Vahram Vidar was seated on the plush leather sofa, pouring tea from the kettle. He smiled when Beatrice entered and stood up to greet her. "I apologize for calling you when you must be busy with work." He said, clasping her hand with both of his hands. They were warm and soft. "It's nothing to the workload you must be going through." She sat down.
"Any casualties?" she asked, once seated. Vahram gave her the glass teacup filled with light yellow tea.
"Thankfully no. But three of my staff is missing. Who might be the victims in this cruel agenda." he sipped. There were gray streaks on his black hair and tiredness in his eyes.
"The Alpha team caught two of them, we will present them in front of the Council in three days." She informed him.
"I think it will be fit, that the council shouldn't know about the cursed ones."
"But sir, it's-"
"If we throw alive cursed ones in front of the council, they will declare a state of emergency, which is a bit dramatic, considering there were no casualties." Varham cut her off.
Beatrice couldn't do but agree with him, even though her instincts told her it was a bad idea. But what could she do when the Citadel ran with government funding, which wasn't enough. So she relied on investments, and the biggest investor of all was the Chairman. She had to please him, so she agreed. "What about the dead one, any leads?" he asked, finishing his tea. "No. but we are looking into it." Beatrice replied. "I'll take my leave, then thank you for the tea," she said, leaving his study.
Varham Vidarr opened the double doors of his private museum in the North wing. Antiques and artifacts occupied the dozen shelves and pillars. A wall was dedicated to the weapons from the battles fought in the past. Polished and sharp. He walked past them, in the middle of the room, where a circle was etched with red tiles. A marble slab stood in the center, and on top of it slept a young woman. She looked peaceful in a torn blue dress. He caressed her cheeks and hair until a tear fell on them.
"The journal has revealed itself, Lora." He whispered to her. "Now i only need to find your daughter."