“... It had to be in the 1700s. There was something just like this back then. I know I’ve read it somewhere in the last three years, just don’t remember where.” Zachiel said, lurching over the 8th volume of the chronicles while sipping on a blood smoothie through a plastic cup.

Yeah, he’d taken a page out of Magnus’ book because he couldn’t feed from Ophelia now that she was in her sixth month of pregnancy. He realized now why his brother always looked at the stuff like it was a bag of dog shit. Didn’t taste much better. He should know. His face had been smeared in the mutt poop on a couple of occasions during fights.

Yeah, but that was Morthis. I ripped his eyeballs out myself, so I know he’s as dead as dead gets. Unless he has a demon son or something. Which isn’t inconceivable, I suppose,” Draven said, shoving away one book and grabbing another.

“Who are we kidding? It’s useless,” Z said, slurping blood. “There are too many possibilities without the identifying symbol.

“Too much of the same stuff. There was that one wishing demon. You know, the wish for a girl with two tits and then you get one with five and a STD kinda thing. But this one just promises to make your dreams come true and then never does anything but steal your mind. Fucker’s just snake-oiling it.”

Draven lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. Man, he’d quit this shit six months ago. But he was edgy and twitchy and bobbed his knee up and down like some high-flyer addict. His body was humming, like he was going to launch up and away anytime soon. He had to kill something, had to hammer down, because screwing around wasn’t doing anything for him. And it wasn’t like he was going to admit that he had a damn problem, because that seemed weak.

And he wasn’t the only one who was wired. Opposite him sat Magnus, the color of grass, with his head cradled in his hand. He looked sick and agitated.

Z eyed the both of them. Draven, he couldn’t help. He wouldn’t let him, wouldn’t talk. Magnus, on the other hand... He couldn’t quite get a read on him, but it certainly wasn’t the demon problem that was bothering him. He jolted off his chair like the thing had suddenly gone aflame and started pacing up and down the room.

Magnus felt wrong. He’d started feeling this way an hour and a half ago, shortly after Katherine and Solomon had left. He had this growing, constricting ache in his chest and a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt charged, like electricity was coursing through his veins. He tried to ignore his instinct to check on her. Because he wanted to give her some space. He was already going stalker on her. But with every passing minute, his biology was screaming at him to zone in on her. Yeah, and then what? It was daylight outside.

Zachiel observed his brother as he restlessly paced up and down the room. Sometimes Draven could pick up on Magnus’ energy. Pain wasn’t all they could share. So, he wasn’t sure which one of them was the edgy one.

“When was the last time you fed?” Z asked Magnus.

He scowled and waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, couple of days ago.” Maybe just a quick peek to make sure she was okay. Then he won’t zone in on her again for the rest of the day. Yeah right.

Z rose and took a bag of blood out of the mini fridge in the library and held it out to Magnus. “Here,”

He didn’t exactly expect him to jump for joy, but he also didn’t expect him to snatch the thing out of his hand and vehemently throw it onto the floor. “I’m not drinking that fucking shit!”

Z told himself not to get angry.

It was too late for that. “Careful, Magnus.” He bristled as he thought of landing a punch right on that sculpted jaw.

He fisted his hands by his sides and reminded himself that it wasn’t a grand old idea to get into a fight with him in the library. If he had bloodlust and anger, it’s a sure thing his beast would surface. And he’ll trash everything. But he wasn’t about to let him walk all over him either.

“Don’t you fucking threaten me!” Magnus sneered.

Then Draven appeared next to Z. “Two against one, bro, I think you need to take a time out, settle that hot head of yours.”

“Fuck you, Draven.”

“Yeah, whatever. Walk away from Blondie.”

Magnus snapped around and paced to the other side of the library to calm himself down before he smashed his brother’s face into mush. As he walked away, he heard Z say to Draven, “I don’t need your goddamn protection, Cassanova.”

Draven said something back, but he couldn’t hear what.

He didn’t know why he was feeling so angry, but he didn’t want the goddamn blood bag. He wanted Katherine, her vein, warm, living blood. And even he had to admit that it was ludicrous. She wouldn’t be able to feed him for the next few days. In fact, she had to drink from him to build up her strength. Still the craving was relentless to...to do what? To be at her vein? To be close to her? To know where the hell she was? He stomped over to the window. The daylight metal shutters were drawn. He wished them open, because it felt like the metal was keeping her from him somehow. Gods, now he really was losing it. The woman was at the doctor’s.

“What’s the matter with you, Magnus?” Z asked when he came back.

“I’m worried about Katherine.”

“So? Call Solomon to check on her.” Draven suggested, “Reassure yourself. She’s probably dressed in a paper gown right now—ain’t that an image.” he taunted, staring up dreamily at the ceiling and knowing full well he was playing with death.

Magnus shot him a glare that would freeze over hell. But his anger was cut short by a feeling of stupidity. Of course. He could’ve just called.

“Yo,”

His head snapped around just in time to catch the mobile phone Z threw at him.

Magnus dialed Solomon’s number. It rang and rang. He told himself not to panic. Maybe they just had bad reception. The phone rang until it went to voicemail.

“No answer.” Magnus rubbed at his chest, the constriction worsening. “I’ll try again.”

He dialled. Again, the phone just rang. He felt needles of fear clawing into his throat. Z and Draven exchanged worried looks.

Fuck it, he was zoning in on her. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“He’s honing,” Draven said.

“Yup,” Z answered.

When his eyes shot open, his face went bone pale. Without saying a word, he took his trench coat that hung around the chair and stormed out of the library.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Draven and Z ran after him.

“It’s daylight out!”

“She’s not at the hospital. She’s going farther and farther away from it with every passing minute,” Magnus weaved through nosferi in the hallways.

“Fuck!” Z muttered under his breath. Yeah, that was a serious warning sign. “Magnus! Slow down, will you? You can’t go outside, you’ll fry! We have to wait-”

“I’m not waiting. I’m following her.”

“Jesus! Would you stop and think for a minute?” Draven yelled, bumping into a nosferi lady, the one from the elevator. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Magnus!” Z grabbed him by the arm. He swung around, and Z took a step back, seeing that his skin and eyes were turned.

“Stay the hell out of my way!” It was no longer his voice, either.

Z set his jaw. “Magnus, you’ll die.”

“Not before I kill them.”

He pulled the leather trench coat over his head and went out through the front doors. The sun streamed in, and Z and Draven retreated back out of its burning light with protesting hisses.

Draven shut the doors. “Security,” Z nodded.

They both hurriedly made their way upstairs to the control room. They went in just in time to catch Magnus on the security cameras in the garage as he got into the Corvette, still covering himself with the trench coat. He drove out of the compound.

“Great, now what?” Draven threw up his hands.

“We wait till sundown to follow him. If he does anything stupid, we can’t all three be incapacitated.”

“Yeah. Waiting’s good. Waiting’s smart.” Draven said.

“Fuck,” Z muttered.

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