It didn’t spike immediate panic, it was a feeling that he’d long since found little use for it. The long winding string of magical murders, bodies left drained of power and then some had sparked something of immediate concern throughout the streets of Red Creek. The coven had grown scarce, whether that meant they were pulling apart the etches of residual magic left behind or something more sinister, he didn’t know, but concern didn’t breathe life into lungs over the barren sight of some of the deadliest hunters known commit so effortlessly to a literal witch hunt. Months without a single glimmer of something sinister carving it’s way through the ridden smothering of white powder that coated the town as if it might have once offered some nonsensical blanket of safety for the inhabitants. All those that so plainly chose to live among the throng of the most dangerous beings on the planet might as well have been none the wiser as those known among them to hold the power of something higher were ripped from their homes.
The looming familiarity of the home he’d only left mere hours ago stood out among them, Zeke not quick enough to reach it before the lowly distaste of hunters breached it first. The wood shattered beneath the weight of anothers boot, hanging limply from one hinge as they scoured the halls of a place he knew as well as his own. The hunter of the deepest raven locks calling that he’d take the basement – better that nobody else find what lay beneath as they tore apart each and every room. He lingered in the darkness of the lowest room in her home, obsidian hues cutting lines across every damning piece of evidence that he knew lay down here, whether she’d had a single thing to do with the mess above or not, the grimoires alone would spark enough anger without efficient evidence. The small handful of power they held on their side with a forceful coven member leading the search didn’t guarantee the protections spells laid out for this room would suffice and keep the lingering secret of what Lenore was at bay. “All clear!” Deep timbre shook the furnace of his own ribcage as another effortless lie slipped his lips, Zeke quickly climbing the stairs and making a beeline for the front door.
Breaking the evening air that held a stringent tang of anticipation for everything that would slowly unravel a whole new method of madness within the town region. The sharp command of another hunter irked him though he’d never appreciated being ordered about. The sharpened sneer short lived as he felt so unwilling to draw too much attention to the rage settling within the marrow of his bones. “I’ll double back,” an outright objection to follow the fold, “make sure we didn’t miss anything.” Not up for question or arguement and the steely look on sharp features didn’t give the opportunity for it as he left the throng of hunters to follow their own escapade as he wove the familiar streets until he broached the back door of his own home.
The door swung back, jamming in against the hole busted through the plywood, something he’d always forgone fixing. “Lenny!” He felt her, the slip of movement from the hallway that traversed the space of atmosphere he could sense drew him in, Zeke stopping only long enough to kick open a cabinet filled with an arsenal of weapons. “Go to the spare room, there’s two duffel bags in the closet,” whether she knew it or not, he’d always been prepared – always, even for the imminent possibility that he’d have to drag her from the town completely. “There’s an empty one on the top shelf, anything that belongs to you that’s here, in this house right now, grab it.”
As always, she sensed his presence before he made himself known within the empty halls of his home. Lithe figure pausing amidst her cleaning ministrations --because Gods above did the man never clean anything except a gun-- as she traipsed from the bedroom into the hallway to greet his unanticipated and rather early arrival home. Instead of the usual turning of the handle and shuffle into the kitchen with some amusing, albeit smart ass, comment about how she hadn’t started dinner yet despite being present all evening, the door was nearly obliterated as it slammed into the wall. Enough to startle Lenny as she awaited in absolute silence for confirmation that it was indeed him, forever lingering in trepidation that another had discovered them and come to forcibly remove the witch from his life permanently. The deep rumble of his voice curving around the syllables of her name became enough to caution her frantic heart, if only for a moment.
"Jesus Christ, you scared m---” But words were pouring forth before she even had an opportune moment to complete her train of thought, the sentence dying on her lips as she bore witness to the frenzy exuded by the man before her. Determination combined with an uncharacteristic version of something akin to fear had absorbed him entirely, enough to rock her foundation and the one of his home as it bellowed throughout the hallways and awnings. Without so much as a passing glance or question of his order, she darted off to the spare bedroom and threw open the closet doors with more ferocity than one might assume given her petite frame. Both bags were dragged outwards before she jumped to reach the latter, tearing it down and immediately ransacking the home for anything which might echo with the faintest inkling of belonging to her. Toothbrush, hairbrush, various clothes tucked away in drawers, a sweater hung over a chair, her shampoo bottles; a whole assortment of items were tossed haphazardly within the deep confines of the canvas bag.
Collecting all three, she near bolted down the hallway to meet him in the kitchen, adjusting one of the bags over her shoulder as its contents slid around somewhat. Must have been hers. There was a wildness to her gaze, a harkening back to when Lenore existed as a creature on the run, forever bouncing from one locale to the next without so much as a thought to stopping. She hadn’t experienced such a deep rooted survival instinct in her two years with Zeke, always content in the safety he provided, but now it reared its head almost violently and she fell into the familiarity of it with ease. “I’m taking these to the truck,” she spoke in an aloof tone without offering him room to argue, more than familiar with what it meant to move with purpose, to believe every step might be her last.
Tossing all three bags into the backseat, she quietly shut the doors with as little force as she could mange to keep from drawing attention to her movements before ambling into the front passenger seat to wait for him. Both knees drawn to her chest in a protective measure, green hues darkened by the dim outside lighting flickered across every corner and shadow, fully prepared for a confrontation if necessary. It was only when he joined her in the adjoining seat that she spoke, gaze never once pivoting from the windshield to his face. “How bad is it? Tell me the truth.”
dededos
dailybridgerton
janainaart
jacobvanloon
izzy806
kianamaiart