The Vaticinator

9. The Alpha Tales

Neal is richer than I thought him to be. His house is similar to the Victorian houses found in the United Kingdom, only double the size. It’s as odd as it is extravagant, considering it’s a beach house. His front door opens into a large living room; exceedingly large as compared to the normal sizes. A plain wooden frame divides it into two sections, one containing the plush sofas, while the other expresses a plain hall that ends in a vestibule, the latter, which I assume, leads to the backside of the house, the sea side. The wooden frame contains a panoramic sized glass, effectively separating the two sections. Everything in the living room, from the bronze vases to the marble flooring to the fancy curtains up to the hefty chandelier on the top screams money.

The huge mahogany entrance door to the house was ajar when Aakir and I entered. Neal, who is sitting on one of the plush sofas, has his eyes trained on us as we enter. He is sitting on the edge, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. He looks slightly petrified but above everything he looks annoyed and massively angry. Reprieved to see him in a healthy state and ignoring his annoyed looks, I dart my eyes toward the other two people. Ethan and my father have spoken not one word upon mine and Aakir’s entrance. They are engrossed in their own little staring match, a few feet away from where Neal is sitting. Ethan’s eyes flicker above my father’s shoulder, taking in our sight. He needn’t though; I am sure he can sense us well.

“Are you really going to retaliate?” Ethan asks my father, sounding almost tired. “You know there is no point.”

“You’re not taking the boy, Ethan.” Father replies placidly, but his tone is final.

Ethan scoffs, “You really don’t want to be caught in the middle of this, Nikolai.”

My father turns half way towards Aakir and I, “Take him home.” He says tersely to us.

I look at Neal who is furiously frowning, his eyes darting from my father to me. I gesture for him to come. His expressions turn more annoyed, if possible.

“I am not going anywhere with you.” Neal snaps, glaring daggers at me.

“Yes, he isn’t.” Ethan says, staring murderously at me.

“I am not going anywhere with you either.” Neal snaps at him. “This is my house. All of you need to get out of here.” He hollers.

“That’s not your decision to make.” Ethan quips.

“Excuse me?” Neal snaps.

“Now we can do this maturely,” Ethan says, ignoring Neal and instead glaring at my father, who hasn’t budged one inch from his position in front of Ethan, “or you’re really going to regret your decisions, Nikolai.”

“I want you to leave, Ethan. I want you to go back to your realm.” Father replies, his tone as placid as ever.

Ethan huffs, a disbelieving expression on his face, “You’re willing to turn against an occultist for a mere servant? Nikolai, you’re better than that. Think with a sane mind. The family in which you’re giddily inviting Neal in will cease to remain in the coming future if you stand against our rulers. You can sense him,” Ethan flicks his head towards Neal, “you know that he belongs to the First Occultist.”

I discreetly try to motion for Neal to get up and traverse towards us. Neal catches my eye but only settles at glaring hatefully at me.

“The boy is not going with you, Ethan.” Father repeats, almost monotonously.

“Is that a challenge?” Ethan snaps, his frowning stare hardening.

My eyes, which are mostly trained at Neal, turn fully towards Ethan in an odious glare. Ethan is unfazed as he continues to glare at my father, not even acknowledging his fluxing arm, which is turning into a monstrous claw right in the sight of my partner. I almost groan at how fast things are moving.