33. Torin

33

TORIN

"Fuck!" I snarl, kicking a fallen log in frustration. The blue-haired bitch got away, and we're no closer to finding Poison. This whole plan has gone to shit. On the plus side, at least Dad seems to be dead. Although, that remains to be seen.

Bram emerges from the trees, looking equally pissed off. "Lost her. She's cloaked. She's good, whoever she is, I'll give her that."

I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm the rage building inside me. "This doesn't make any sense. The Syndicate was supposed to send Poison. Who the fuck was that?"

"No idea," Tate says as he joins us. He looks dishevelled, like he went ten rounds with himself. "But she packed one hell of a punch."

I eye him suspiciously. It's not like Tate to get taken down so easily. But then again, none of us were expecting someone other than Poison to show up .

"We need to regroup," I say finally. "Figure out our next move."

Bram nods in agreement. "Back home?"

"Yeah," I mutter. "But first, let's check the cottage again. See if we missed anything."

We head back to the dilapidated structure. The smell of lavender still lingers in the air, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust.

"Look for anything that might tell us who that woman was," I order as we spread out to check for clues. I aim for the place where the holy water got me and look around. Chuckling when I see the plug-in, I crouch next to it and flick off the socket. "Wow. She is innovative. Holy water in a plug-in."

Tate looks over and laughs. "That is genius."

I give him a death stare, and he shuts his face, going back to searching the cottage.

Frustrated, but not surprised, by the lack of clues, I turn to the pile of ash that was presumably my father. I crouch down, running my fingers through it, feeling nothing but cold emptiness.

"Find anything?" Bram calls from the other room.

"Nothing," I growl. "Just dust and more fucking questions."

"This is pointless," Tate says. "But whoever else was here has left no trace either."

"Whoever else?" I ask, curious. "There was someone else here?"

"When we burst in, there was a cloud of purple smoke. It's a dissipating spell. Very advanced for a practitioner who isn't a witch or warlock."

"So, a mage?" I growl, my first thought going straight to my mother.

"Your mother?" Bram asks as if reading my thoughts, "She'd have the power and motive."

I shake my head, trying to make sense of it. Unfortunately, it's not that complicated.

"Unless she's playing a deeper game," Tate muses, also connecting the dots. "Setting you up somehow."

The thought sends a chill down my spine. My mother has always been ruthless, but this level of manipulation seems extreme even for her.

"We need more information," I say finally. "About that blue-haired woman, about what really happened here. And we still need to find Poison."

Bram nods in agreement. "Where do we start?"

I consider our options. "We go back to Thornfield, and I'll ring my mum. See what she has to say."

As we leave the cottage, I can't shake the feeling that we're missing something crucial. This whole situation stinks of a setup, but to what end? "Let's go," I growl, leading the way back through the forest. "We've got work to do."

The walk back to the university campus is tense and quiet. My mind races, trying to piece together this fucked up puzzle. If my mother is involved, things just got a whole lot more complicated.

As we reach the edge of the forest, I pull out my phone. No missed calls or messages from her, which could mean anything or nothing.

"I'm going to call her," I announce, stopping at the tree line. "You two go on ahead."

Bram and Tate exchange a look but nod, heading towards the townhouse. I wait until they're out of earshot before dialling my mother's number.

It rings three times before she picks up. "Torin, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her voice is smooth as silk, betraying nothing. I grit my teeth. "Cut the bullshit, Mum. What game are you playing?"

"Now, now," she tuts. "Is that any way to speak to your mother? I'm sure I raised you better than that."

"Did you have something to do with what happened to Dad?" I demand, ignoring her chastisement.

There's a pause on the other end of the line. When she speaks again, her voice has lost its playful edge. "What exactly are you accusing me of, Torin?"

"Dad's dead," I state bluntly, although I'm not one hundred per cent sure of that. In theory, it could've been anyone in that cottage.

There's a long pause on the other end of the line. When my mother finally speaks, her voice is carefully controlled.

"I see. And how exactly did this happen?"

I clench my jaw, debating how much to reveal. "Someone got to him before we did. A woman with blue hair. Ring any bells? "

Another pause. "I'm afraid not, darling. Though it sounds like you've had quite the eventful day."

Her casual tone grates on my nerves. "Did you have something to do with this?"

"Torin," she says, her voice sharpening. "I suggest you watch the accusations."

I take a deep breath, trying to rein in my frustration. "I'm not accusing, I'm asking. Because this whole situation stinks. Dad was at that cottage, an assassin showed up and killed him, but Tate seems to think that there was an advanced mage there as well."

"Does he now?" she snaps. "And you think it was me?"

"I don't know!" I roar, losing the plot. "Was it?"

There's a long silence on the other end of the line. When my mother finally speaks, her voice is cold and sharp as a blade.

"Listen to me very carefully, Torin. Unless you have proof that it was your father in that cottage, I want to hear no more about this. Are we clear?"

With that, she hangs up, leaving me staring at my phone in irritation.

I make my way back to the townhouse, my mind racing. When I enter, Bram and Tate look up expectantly.

"Well?" Bram asks. "What did she say?"

I run a hand through my hair. "Not much. She is either in denial it was Dad in the cottage, or she is covering up her involvement."

Tate frowns. "Do you think she sent a separate assassin? When you spoke to your dad, he said someone was after him."

I glare at him. His tone is off, like he is distracted or something.

"Something on your mind, arsehole?" I growl.

He blinks at my attitude. "Like what?"

"Blonde bitches, maybe?"

His eyes flash dangerously, which tells me all I need to know about that. "I see. If your head is up your arse over her, you need to step back."

He takes a step forward and clenches his fist in my face. "Don't fucking sideline me."

"You are sidelining yourself," I growl, beyond pissed off.

"Fuck you!"

"Go fuck yourself. You need to end whatever that shitshow is and focus on Poison. She is who we have decided we want, and we are going after her."

"I'm not ending it," he spits out.

"End it or else."

"Or else what?"

He is on the verge of a major explosion, but I'm pushing his buttons for a reason. Something isn't adding up, but I just can't quite see past the trees to get to it. He is refusing to give up this girl, meanwhile he is quite happy to keep on fucking around with Poison…

The penny drops, and I groan inwardly as I realise what a fucking dumbfuck I've been all along.

We glare at each other, but I keep my face neutral. I don't want him to know or even suspect that I've rumbled him and his little girlfriend—not until I have evidence.

"You know what," I say, hands up. "Do what you want. I don't give a fuck."

I stalk off up to my room, cursing my slowness on this. I should've known the second I found him with his hand in her pussy that she was Poison. She is a shifter. The question is, why hasn't he told us?

That is something I intend to find out.