wall of Chosen.
“Beck,” Enoch consoles as he steps toward his friend. I can see the sorry that sits on Enoch’s lips, but Becket rounds on him before Enoch can offer it.
“Your dad did this! He’s the twisted one, not my dad!” Becket accuses, and the sympathy on Enoch’s face is quickly replaced by indignation.
Nash and Kallan step between their coven mates, both of them offering consolation and trying to keep things from escalating as Becket and Enoch square off against each other. They both go quiet after a minute, and tension seeps from everyone in the room. Enoch pulls his phone from his pocket, and after a couple swipes and clicks of the screen, it starts ringing, the shrill sound slicing through the thick fog of anger that surrounds all of us.
“Hey, son,” Elder Cleary answers. “Can I call you back a little later? Things are a bit crazy at the moment.”
“Dad, I’m at Vinna’s house. She just told us what happened.”
“Oh,” Elder Cleary responds surprised. “Is your coven there with you?” he asks.
“Yes,” Enoch responds.
“Okay, I have her address. I’m going to send some paladin there. They’ll escort Becket here; we need to ask him some questions and make sure he isn’t somehow tangled up in this mess his dad created,” Elder Cleary tells Enoch, his tone distracted.
“My dad wouldn’t have done any of this! I don’t care what you’re trying to pin on him, I know him!” Becket shouts, and Elder Cleary swears.
“Am I on speakerphone, Enoch?” Elder Cleary demands. “You should know better than that,” he chastises his son, and Enoch hurries to take his dad off speaker and quickly steps away from us to continue the rest of the conversation more privately.
Becket runs his hands through his golden brown hair, and every inch of him is pulsing with frustration and disbelief. Kallan and Nash watch him, and they look unsure of what to do or what to say. I wish someone would just hug him, but he doesn’t want to hear from me, so I continue to just shut the fuck up.
“I’m out of here,” Becket announces suddenly. “I need to get to the bottom of this, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to trust his dad to do it.” Becket points at Enoch and then gives the rest of us a scathing look before he turns toward the door.
Enoch shoves his phone back into his pocket and steps into Becket’s path, and Becket’s features become murderous.
“Oh it’s like that, Cleary? One word from daddy, and you’re ready to betray your own coven…again?” Becket’s chest heaves as he pulls in angry breaths. “The fact that anyone thinks they can pin this on my dad, after the shit you and your dad pull on the regular, is a fucking joke. Move.”
Becket takes another step toward Enoch, and a red mist forms just above Enoch’s upturned palm. I’m shocked that Enoch’s just threatened Becket, and I don’t miss the hurt that courses through Becket’s brown eyes and is gone in a flash. A bright yellow barrier pops into place around Becket, but the violet hues that appear to slither in and out of his barrier give all of us pause. My eyes snap from Becket’s dual colored magic to Enoch’s. I spot purple flashes sparking in and out of the red mist still hovering over Enoch’s hand.
I’ve trained with this coven a lot, so I know that Enoch’s Offensive magic is fire engine red, his Elemental magic is an olive green, and Becket’s Defensive magic is always bright, lemon yellow. I watch the violet flickers that invade both of their magic, and I could fucking scream in frustration. There is obviously a connection now, but what the fuck is it? And is it to Sentinel magic or to me? Am I wrong?
Are they Chosen? And if they are, then whose?
2
“Just let him go, E,” Nash tells his coven mate. “He has a right to find out for himself what happened. He said he didn’t know, and we should trust him. He’s coven.”
At Nash’s words, I remember my lie detector with paws. I turn to Torrez, but I don’t even have to ask him before he nods his head once at me. “He didn’t know about the connection between his dad and the leech, and he genuinely thinks his dad isn’t capable of anything that you and Slytherin over there said.”
I cock an eyebrow at Torrez. “Slytherin, really?”
“Yeah, it’s not my best work. I’ll google wizard nicknames