Chapter 59: 59__Kill or be killed

He wasn’t being paranoid. He was just being cautious. That’s what Rogan told himself as he made his way back to the Hostel. It would be better if he took Maia with him, wouldn't it?

He saw the gathering crowd from a long way off. They were gathering close to the Hostel gates, everyone staring down at something on the street.

Quickening his steps, Rogan pushed through the crowd, soon getting to the centre when they quickly moved out of his way.

“Master Rogan,” said one of the ladies at the centre of the crowd.

“What’s going on here—”

Rogan stopped speaking when he saw what had drawn everyone’s attention. With a curse, he quickly crouched by her side and raised the unconscious girl into his arms. “Clover? Clover!” Rogan raised a glare at the people around him. “Which one of you did this? Confess now. Do not make me curse you to your next ten generations.”

One of the ladies shook her head earnestly. “It wasn’t none of us, Master Rogan! No one of us!”

The Hostel doors opened and Cassie stepped out with a frown, wondering where on earth Clover had gone.

The moment her eyes landed on the crowd, she stared at it, seeing nothing through the thick throng of people, but having a dark feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. Wordlessly, Cassie pushed through the people until she came to where Rogan was threatening people to speak or die.

“It really wasn’t us, Master Rogan, Sir!” said a pale-faced guy, his eyes wide.

“Clover!” Cassie dropped to her knees beside them, placing a hand on Clover’s cheek. “Rogan, what happened?”

Rogan shook his head. “No idea yet. They’re saying they don’t know either.”

Cassie looked around at the people with bitter distrust. “Of course, they’d say that! Anyone of them could have done it, they all hate us.”

Clover twitched. “Ow…”

Cassie grabbed her hand. “Clover! Wake up already, damn it! What happened?! Did one of *them* do it?”

The people avoided Cassie’s dark glare of rage as she looked around for a suspect.

Clover groaned, rubbing her head as Cassie helped her stand. “Ow… my head…”

“What the devil happened?” Rogan demanded.

Shaking her head, Clover rubbed her aching hip. “I don’t… I don’t remember—”

She froze, her face going slack.

Rogan frowned. “What?”

Clover gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Maia!”

Rogan and Cassie exchanged looks. “Maia?”

Clover nodded at them as Rogan shooed the crowd away.

“It was Maia… oh, my *Gemini*...”

Cassie shook her head. “Okay, when did Maia even get here? And what did she do?”

Rogan looked at her. “What do you mean, when did Maia get here? I left her here like ten fucking minutes ago.”

Cassie made a face. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, he did!” said Clover, nodding frantically as her eyes filled with tears.

“So where the hell is she?” Rogan demanded, quickly getting worked up.

“I don’t know!” Clover cried. “She knocked me over the head and ran!”

Rogan stared at her. “She did *what*?!”

Clover’s chin quivered as she looked up and down the street for Maia. “I don’t know why she did that!”

“I literally left you two at the door! The *door*, Clover! How the hell did you end up on the street, knocking each other out and running?”

“We had to go up the street!” Clover explained. “Maia’s bracelet accidentally broke and she was upset because it was a present from you, so we went to get one to replace it—”

“Hang on.” Rogan raised a finger, the look on his face darkening. “The bracelet… broke?”

Wiping her eyes, Clover nodded. “Yeah. It was my fault, Rogan, I’m sorry—”

Rogan was already gone.

A string of curses left his mouth as he stalked through the crowd.

He knew it. He’d just known it when he was leaving earlier that those bastards would come after her! He’d left her with protection, but hadn’t considered how scatter-brained the little forest rabbit was. And now she’d gone and gotten herself taken.

Gritting his teeth, Rogan strode into an alleyway, heading for the darkest corner where he could disappear away from Gemini eyes.

Still cursing, he transported himself to the basement of his house, appearing out of an air of dark energy. A physical ache ripped through his body and Rogan winced, gripping a hand over his chest.

He paused. Something was seriously wrong with him. He hadn’t felt the physical pains of teleportation in a very long time.

The curse. The curse used to stop him from feeling anything.

Ignoring the disturbing pains and the thoughts running through his mind, he went to his closet in the dark basement, throwing the doors open.

His hands ran through the clothing there, searching until they found what he was looking for.

Rogan pulled out the black coat-like cloak and looked at it.

His Sorcerer’s garment.

He didn’t fancy going around in his cloak with a damn wand in his hand to let everyone know he was a sorcerer, but fact remained that he did have a cloak and a damn wand. As did most Sorcerers on his level.

Rogan had never used his cloak before. An occasion important enough to wear the damn thing had never presented itself. It wasn't like he had Sorcerer's Olymipcs to attend or anything. Even his aunt Ursula, who had been the most powerful Enchantress after the death of Rogan’s mother, had only worn hers on the day when she’d prepared the spell that she’d cursed Rogan with. It had been the most powerful spell of her entire life.

Rogan shoved off his coat and wore the Sorcerer’s garment. It seemed he’d also just gotten something important enough to use his most powerful magic for. And that happened to be getting back the stolen human. Not to be scornful, but Rogan had really always thought it would be something of greater... impact? Like the battle of the most evil Sorcerer villains or something of the like. Apparently not.

When the garment covered his body, stretching out from his neck to his feet where the black hem dragged on the floor, Rogan felt the Sorcerer in him strengthen.

Shoving random boxes out of his way, he rushed up the stairs and burst out of the basement door.

His feet stopped.

Maia.

Frozen right before the basement door, a bag in her hand, she stood very still.

Rogan narrowed his eyes to slits. “Maia.”

Very slowly, she turned her head and looked at him.

One look was all it took and Rogan knew. It was just as he’d suspected. She’d been taken over by a spirit. Her entire aura was off. It was like she’d gone to sleep and was sleep walking under the control of another being. Now it made sense that she’d hit Clover.

With a scoff, he looked at the dull look in her eyes.

It was definitely a ghost, but it was one that he wouldn’t have detected had he not been looking for it.

Someone had strengthened the ghoul that was inside her body and Rogan knew why. He glanced at the bag in her hand. They were trying to make Maia leave on her own. So that he’d have no traces to follow, they tried to make her disappear on her own.

Pushing aside his cloak, Rogan shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her, or rather, looked into her. “What are you doing?”

It took a moment before she responded, a panic entering her eyes. Rogan nodded. The spirit was made strong enough to resist the power of Rogan’s aura, but not made strong enough to not get shit scared in his presence.

“P-pardon, Sorcerer?” she said.

“What are you doing?” he immediately repeated, seeing her eyes fill with intimidation.

Suddenly, her nose turned up. “I’m leaving! I… uhm, I have had enough of staying here!”

Rogan watched as, without another word, she marched past the staircase, nearly running out the front door.

With a muttered curse, he glared down at his Sorcerer’s garment and went after her. How annoying that he’d gotten all dressed up, was well on his way to mix potions and cast spells and for what? For a little ghost on magic steroids?

The insult!

With a sigh, Rogan left the house and pulled the doors closed with a slam as he turned to follow her.

When he raised his gaze, however, Maia wasn’t what he saw.

She was long gone, someone else standing where Rogan had expected to see her.

The shock that hit him was numbing and electrifying at the same time, but Rogan tried his best to hide it as he stared into a pair of familiar blue eyes.

He should have known.

Now that he paid attention, he realized that the aura in the air was unmistakable.

Vampire. Vampire *King*.

“Rogan.”

The sound of that voice made Rogan’s jaw clench. His eyes swirling deeper and darker with rage, he looked at the one person he’d wanted to kill or be killed by.

“Viktor.”