Chapter 56 : Slingshot back to Earth

The cafe was quaint, understated, and impossibly expensive. The type of place business CEOs would go for lunch time cocktails, or hunter idols to enjoy $30 avocado toast bowls. Where the wait staff wore kevlar under their uniforms, and had tasers beside their order boots in their half aprons.

A live performer gently played on the cherry pink grand piano. There were even potted fruit plants, blessed by hunters with such abilities. Lush, glistening fruits awaited being made into thick healthy smoothies. Seated far from any windows, in the VIP section upstairs past tempered glass sat Lincoln Winscot. Tapping his foot in annoyance.

Late. Late Late.

He called her yesterday and she refused to come then. Now close to the agreed meeting time, she was late! 

It was a place only the elite of the mega city were allowed to enter 

"Honestly I'm shocked you even came." Lincoln felt his eye twitch as he stared across the glass tabletop when the woman in question finally sat down. The waitstaff looked at him with questioning eyes, as if asking 'should we remove her?'

It took a slight shake of his head to send the staff back to their respected corners. 

"About time." Lincoln growled.

Oz sat with her arms crossed, leaning back on the chair. She was better dressed for some seedy dive bar then here. Tattered jeans covered in odd oil stains, a hoodie with a cross body bag strapped around her chest and gross looking sneakers. Compared to him, she looked like a dungeon dwelling bum.

He gave a small sniff , at least she smelled clean. He couldn't imagine the shit hole dungeons she had been crawling in and out of.

"You called me enough." Oz snorted, arm thrown over the back of the chair.

Lincoln didn't like the odd aura his step-sister was giving off. Before she wasn't so aggressive. Oz would just glare at them but do as she was ordered, most of the time. Now she glared aggressively and tilted her nose at him like he was trash. He hated that.

HE was the eldest Winscot. She was nothing but extra trash his father picked up when marrying that good for nothing gold digger. They were both hunters, the rare ones of the family. Only that they had in common.

"So what do you want? You guys never call unless you want me to sell the apartment or do some shit job because we're faaammmillly" Oz asked. Her eyes held Lincoln's with such strength even he felt the need to cower away.

"First, I told you to come alone. Who is he?"

Beside Oz sat a tall, broad shouldered man. At least he was dressed properly, in a white suit, black button down and cobalt blue accents. His face was rather plain, with shortly cropped white hair that fell over one eye. His skin was painfully pale, as if he hadn't seen sunlight in ages. And an unnerving stupid smile plastered on his face. Lincoln felt his stomach churn when the man looked at him, his eyes were black. The sclera were black! Pupils and iris were a shade of unnatural blue that hurt to look at.

"Him? A friend." Oz said casually, "One of my teachers."

"Hello there, human. You may call me Professor Com." 

Lincoln glared, his fist pounded the table. "Human? Who is this freak? Did you bring another freak to our world."

Ice slowly creeped over the glass surface, a frigid chill raced through his fist. Enough he ripped his hand away to rub it, the tips almost white with frost. Looking up, all he could see was Oz's face hidden in shadow. Only her right eye was glowing red, like plumes of magical energy escaping from her hateful glare.

"Watch it Lincoln, I only came out of what little good will I have your miserable ass. Now what the hell do you want." Oz's voice was cold as the ice that grew off the table.

Lincoln pursed his lips hatefully at her before clicking his tongue. "Smith told me you have been making yourself a pain for the Black Lotus Guild. After all, their goodwill taking in your low-ranking ass."

"You mean working me nearly to death in their dungeons?" Oz growled, inspecting her nails. Lincoln felt his temper spike, Oz wasn't cowering down to him anymore. Withdrawing or even just doing what he wanted! What was going on with her!

Fine he would just go for the direct shot.

"Are you the White Devil?" He hissed, demanding an answer. 

The glass next to the Professor froze over, solid cloudy ice shattered the glass. With a wave of his hand, all the shards were gathered in a blue pulsing aura before they could so much as dissipate in the air. Lincoln paled slightly and eyed his step sister again.

The plumes of red smoke leaking from her eye were increasing, only now she had a wicked cruel smile that gave her an almost manic expression.

"Who's asking?"

Lincoln forced his face to remain expressionless, bored even. Underneath the table, his hands were shaking. He tilted his well defined jaw, daring to glare down his nose at her.

"I am, stupid." He snipped. "You are causing problems not only for the family, but my connections. Knock it off."

Oz's eyes flashed dangerously at that, enough Lincoln's adam's apple bobbed uncomfortably in his throat. Slowly she adjusted herself so both her feet sat firmly on the tiled floor. A dull creak from the pressure she gave off vibrated through the entire second floor.

"Knock what off?" 

"This crusade of yours."