CHAPTER FOUR

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Farren

The strands of my hair crunched underneath my ear as I lay on Torill's lap, my legs dangling over the armrest of the couch. The odor of my favorite marijuana blend, Skunk, filled my nostrils. With my fingers tightly gripping the hatchet inside the holster attached to my belt, I watched the cloud move slowly past the charcoal colored walls, past the closed white curtains, past the painting of the sad fiddler clown, past the white shelves stuffed with books, past Loreen Fortier's white locks, trailing finally back to its source, Torill Dovraven's lips, blowing more swirling foggy clouds. She passed me the half smoked blunt and I drew in deeply, allowing the blend to bite my lungs. With each blow my limbs became a little more heavy, my head a little less heavy.

Five years ago, we had claimed this three-story house to practice magic and, of course, they had given it to us. It used to be the home of the Moreau bloodline, another one of the Original Seven, until they'd fled town.

Lily Porth coughed melodramatically and threw an angry look in our direction as she clutched her book. Her brown hair was tightly pulled back in a ponytail, a hairstyle she wore since we were in kindergarten. I would never forget how Lily nearly fainted when I showed up with a shimmering stud in the corner of my bottom lip and turquoise highlights in my black hair. Sometimes, on those moments when her gaze locked on my pierced lip or my blue locks, I wondered if she had ever gotten used to it. Not that I cared, Lily's disapproval was just one of many, blended into the fat pile of hatred built by half the town loathing me for being a member of the Van Velsen bloodline. Centuries hadn't been enough for the Van Velsens to prove to the self-righteous hypocrites in this town we weren't evil. We were the gun inventors getting blamed for those who pulled the trigger. While using dark magic themselves, they despised us for creating it.

I heard the rumbling sound of a loud engine, which had to be Penny's station wagon. A brief moment later Jasmin and Penny barged in. As I lazily pulled myself up from my sprawling pose, I prayed it wasn't another Ordinance task.

The door swung open and Jasmin Girard swiped her eyes slowly through the room, still wearing her long white doctor's coat. Though the Girard line always bred intellectuals, there was no doubt that Jasmin was their biggest prodigy so far. Though Jasmin was my age, twenty, she already held degrees in science, physics, human law, supernatural law, psychology, and more bullshit she'd never need. Penelope Dovraven on the other hand, held the IQ of a rock if you asked me. Good thing nobody ever asked me.

Penny squirmed herself between Torill and me and giggled as she moved the saggy blunt to her lips. "Remind me to thank Elias," she said as she blew out a cloud of smoke.

Elias Mega was the vampire who owned Club Mipsy in Downtown, and the provider of our marijuana. And XTC, on special occasions. He'd always provide us the stuff for free. Though, it wasn't really free. There was an unspoken agreement that in return we would make an appearance in his nightclub at least once a week. People loved to see us, the Infamous Coven, the fierce executioners. 

"We just spoke to Ms. Davenport," Jasmin said as she sat on the armrest next to Lily. "The Watchers are in Chrim."

We abruptly hauled up from our slouching positions and leaned forward, our eyes wide, our ears eager to hear more. Usually I hated the subject of the Watchers, it reminded me of the Ordinance meeting three years back, which reminded me of aunt Poppy being rolled into an ambulance underneath a blood stained sheet, but this was different. Now they were actually among us.

Jasmin reached into her purse and placed four pictures on the table. "Ms. Davenport asked us to mark and track them."

I froze. My heart hammered against my chest as I stared at the second picture. My tongue had gone dry and a champing sound came out of my mouth. As I swallowed air, it felt as if I were swallowing a brick. I couldn't tell if these were side effects of the marijuana, or the shock.

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