Defiance II: The Syphon's Tale

Chapter I

Edmond Sinclair

My name is Edmond and I'm a freak.

Don't pity me. It makes it even harder for me to deal with the crap already on my plate. And it's already a challenge to swallow them as they are. That first statement wouldn't have been unusual, seeing that I lived in a house with two witches, a werewolf, and a dragon as a pet. But as a mutated warlock, it made me the odd one out. I was the freak in a world filled with supernatural beings that would have bled me dry, devoured my flesh, and ensnared my soul in a heartbeat.

It was not like I could defend myself in a proper fight if I ever were confronted with one. As a syphon, my abilities were stunted. True, I had the same power as a warlock, but I needed to drain the power from other supernaturals or magical objects. Secondly, I couldn't use higher-level magic as other spellcasters could. If I dared, I could die. Most magic required a lot of energy, so I couldn't regenerate my mana at all. So you see, I was basically useless most of the time. Most magical duels were done with long range attacks and I needed physical contact with my opponent.

Now you see my dilemma?

I sighed out my frustrations as I stood next to my bed, watching my father throw several of my bags into the car through my bedroom window. He was a werewolf and married to my mother, who was a witch.

Some people in the magical community frowned upon cross-species matings, thinking that it weakened one's bloodline. And it didn't help when I turned out to be a syphon. Most children from cross-species matings inherit one of the parents' gifts, like my sister who took after my mother. If things had turned out differently, I would have been born a werewolf, just like my dad. There were rare instances where one child inherited both gifts called a hybrid. I think there's one in Shadowdale—

"Honey? You need these as well?" my mother asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned to face her, dangling several pairs of colorful undies in the air.

I quickly grabbed the bunch from her. "Thanks mom," I said sheepishly, while quickly stuffing my briefs into the deepest part of my duffel bag.

My mother sighed and inspected my empty bedroom. "I wish you could stay a bit longer." She walked over and stuffed my face between her cleavage, hugging the air out of me.

Arg! Not this again. Why does she keep doing this to me?

I quickly drew away from her embrace and walked over to my study desk. "Don't do that. I'm not a baby anymore."

"To me, you will always be." She removed a tissue from her usual hiding spot, her bosom, and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Mom. I'm not moving to the moon." I walked over to her and hugged her. "I'm heading off to the Academy, that's all." Moving away from her, I wiped another tear from her cheek. "I'll come and visit when the semester is over, I promise." I bent forward and kissed her on the cheek.

My mother's brown eyes lit up. Oh, no. She did it again. I slapped myself on the forehead.

She rubbed my shoulders and patted me on the arms. "That worked better than I thought. See you downstairs, Honey." She sauntered out of the room.

For a short and curvaceous woman, she looked harmless. However, my mother was a master at emotional manipulation. Good going, you dolt. She just played you for an ass.

I chuckled as I turned back to the empty table. There was just one thing I needed to do. A wall of pictures stood in front of me, filled with memories of my family and friends. And when I said friends, I meant only two. I wasn't complaining, though. Being a syphon had warded off most people from even being in the same room as you until their overactive imagination ran away with them.