266

Lucy

I approached Duke, who looked up at me with a tired but welcoming smile. He slumped back in his chair.
"Hey, Lucy," he said, his voice raspy. He blinked slowly, like he was barely keeping his eyes open. "Wanna talk about the professor with the glowing watch? Faust, right?"
I hesitated for a moment, wondering how to broach the subject. Then, I decided to dive in headfirst with a topic that actually wouldn't make me feel antsy.
"You and Tom."
He blinked at me before rolling his eyes. "This again."
"Who's Tom?"
Trent fell into a seat near us, looking exhausted. His eyes were red-rimmed even though they were practically glowing with anger.
"Duke has an admirer," I said and took a seat. "Are you okay, Trent? You look…"
His lips twitched. "Like shit? I know. I feel like it, too, but I'll be okay." He titled his head. "You don't look too great yourself."
I winced, thinking back. Then, I sat at the table.
"Actually, I have a few questions... I figure you're probably a good person to ask about it."
Trent sat up. "You've got me intrigued."
I told him about Daedalus and his watch. Trent narrowed his eyes, but I could tell that he understood what was going on, and it was a problem.
"He's got a lot of fucking balls," Trent said. "And he's well-connected..."
"You know him?"
"The Faust Family is a well-known hunter family," his lips twitched. "It's probably better to say that they're known for dealing with witches. They're a vampiric family."
I frowned. "They're vampires?"
"Not in the way you probably understand," he said. "They're humans, actually, but they use magical tools, crystals, gems, etc., to leech the life force from others. Their usual prey is supernaturals. When they've weakened them enough, they tend to kidnap them and sell them for parts for the darker covens."
I winced. "What makes a coven dark?"
"What sort of magic they're willing to do," he said. "Any spell that would require any part of a supernatural's body that isn't easily given, like hair or even spit, typically falls in that category." He hummed. "There is a range, of course, like witches who will do blood-based magic but only with willing donors and such, but hunter-dealer families like the Fausts tend Anot to both with any witch with morals."
He sighed, rubbing his head. "He's probably here, along with his compatriots, because of the upcoming Festival."
He sat back, stretching his leg out. "They always show up where they think the Festival will be held that year, but they've never been so accurate."
He hummed. "Probably not a coincidence, considering what we know about Oren and Selene's plans."
"You think they leaked the information," Duke said. "I suppose it would make sense that they wouldn't have any other way to gain access to it. It's not like anyone else has a reason to invite them."
I worried my lip. "If they're so close, should we reschedule it? Change it?"
Trent shook his head. "There is no rescheduling the pace of the universe... Unfortunately, the pace of the universe has painted a large target on Hecate, and there's really nothing we can do about it."
Trent, his expression grave, drummed his fingers on the table.
"The Festival is an event where supernatural beings gather openly. To the hunters, it's an opportune moment to strike, but it is protected."
He frowned again. "Though I wonder how secure those protections are with Oren and Selene at work.
Duke leaned forward. "How could they infiltrate the Festival without being detected? How would they get in at all."
Trent's fingers drummed a steady beat.
"Hunters are cunning. They've been known to employ various tactics—disguises, magical concealment, and sometimes, they infiltrate the ranks of other supernatural beings. Sometimes, they recruit supernaturals."
"But..." I shook my head. "You mean they recruit people that would otherwise be sold."
He nodded. "Hunters are generally motivated by greed. Greed for money, power, longevity, etc. That exists in any species. I haven't heard of any dragon shifters joining the ranks, but they span the gambit."
"Why do you think that is?"
He smiled. "Dragon shifters are... for all intents and purposes, immortal."
I blinked. "What?"
He gestured vaguely. "It's all very complex to explain how that works, but the simple version is that dragons can only be killed. They don't really die. They can go into deep sleep, but they're not really kicking the bucket of natural causes." He hummed, knocking on the table. "I'm not worried about the Festival; I'm more concerned about the hunter on your campus who has already singled you two out. He could be a scout, and that means that there may be a wave of them coming, probably with better disguises..."
He murmured to himself. "Fausts don't usually act as scouts, so he must be young... Under a hundred years old."
I blinked. Could Daedalus really be close to a hundred years old? He didn't look any older than twenty-five!
"What do we do?" Duke asked.
"Be vigilant and watch for any signs of unusual behavior or activity."
Duke nodded, his mind already processing the information. "What about the magical detection? Can we use some kind of wards or spells to spot them?"
Trent's eyes glinted with approval. "Good question. Your time with Maggie is paying off. Detection is your best bet, specifically detecting them before they detect you. I can teach you a spell that allows you to see through magical disguises. It's not foolproof, but it should help you identify anyone trying to conceal their true nature."
"Is that common?" I asked.
"How old would you say this hunter is?"
"Twenty-something."
"After I teach you the spell, and you can cast it properly and discreetly, I'd like to see what your answer is."
As Trent began explaining the spell, the weight of it settled on me. On top of dealing with Blue Moon, Oren, Selene, and whoever else would have a problem with me being with David, now we had to deal with hunters, too.
"Imagine it like... glasses," Trent said, waving his hand over his face.
I jumped in my seat as his usual features melted and shifted in the face of Daedalus.
"How do you know what he looks like?" I asked.
He smiled. "I'm going to have to get Lucian to get your mental shields up. I read it from your mind." He looked at Duke. "I'm impressed by how far you've come, though, Duke."
His lips twitched. "It... helps with the nightmares."
He nodded. "I suppose so. Well, recite the incantation in your mind, and focus your vision when you can tell me what color the mark I put on my face is. Then, you've got it."
I narrowed my eyes, trying to focus on the incantation until I started to feel my eyes tingling. I searched, pushing my magic until the tingling grew more pronounced. Trent looked back at me. Slowly, the image of Daedalus' face started to move and melt away. I bit my lip. I could see the faintest outlines of Trent's face slowly start to surface, but I couldn't see it clearly or see the mark he was talking about.
"Blue. Left cheek," Duke said and grunted, rubbing his eyes. "Damn. That feels weird."
Trent nodded and looked at me. "Your turn, Lucy."
"Aren't you going to make another mark?"
He smiled. "I already moved it."
I frowned, staring at him, focusing on his left cheek, and pushing my magic. Suddenly, it felt like the illusion had been snatched away, and I saw the hot pink streak on his forehead.
"Hot pink. Forehead."
He nodded. "Very good, you two. If you aren't too tired, we could try for a blocking spell."
I nodded. "I need it. I... He's a professor in one of my classes. I got sick."
He nodded. "Would explain your need to sleep when you got here."
"He did something to me... His watch was glowing."
"To you. That signals that it was drawing quite heavily from you. Hunters use witch-crafted devices that have been passed down for centuries. As a witch descendant, it makes sense that you would have an instinctual reaction to it. They're simple, powerful, and effective. They even leech power from spells," Trent sighed. "So the best defense is to either fry their devices, isolate the devices so that it fries itself, or give it something else to feed on."
His lips twitched. "Frying their devices is pretty high-level, so I'll at least teach you how to give it something else to feed on."
"... how high level?" Duke asked narrowly.
"Typically, warlock level at least," Trent eyes Duke. "While you are very powerful, you're not there yet." He looked at me. "While at the Festival, neither of you will have much to worry about, as Hito and David can already fry devices."
"What kinds of people are taught this?" Duke asked.
Trent hummed. "Liason trainees, other officers of the Council, people from witch covens that are part of sting operations."
Duke set his jaw and looked down, and I could almost see the doubt in his heart.
He was thinking about Tom.
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