Her eyes widened. "You know—how can you—"
"Of course I know. How can I not know when I can sll the blood? You think that you are free of the signs just because you have taken on different vessels? Injecting your pieces of soul into them? You are wrong, Morga. Your sins follow you—no matter how many bodies you change." Tracy took another step forward. Slow, deliberate and unhurried. "Now, let’s deal with this vessel of yours. I will think of a way to deal with your real body in a while—"
"You cannot do anything to ! You have been barred from using magic to kill anyone." Morga’s eyes widened as she backed away from her.
"And I am not killing you," Tracy laughed. She tilted her head to one side with her hands crossed behind her back. "What kind of life does this vessel even have with you occupying it for so long? Maybe she might even thank for giving her a quick life instead of letting a parasite take over her body."
The air began to take on an increasingly electrified quality. A dense power perated the room; not Morga’s this ti, it was hers. Purple currents started to flicker all over the dark room, seeping into the very foundation of the room where they were standing. Tracy didn’t even move a finger all this ti. It just started to get out of control the second she lifted the lid just enough for her powers to leak out.
"You are a hollow... A husk without any real essence. You are not supposed to exist," Tracy continued. Her eyes were fixated on the woman, who was looking around as if she were trying to find a way to escape from her grasp. Unfortunately, not this ti around; she was not going to let this witch fly out of her clutches. "I thought you would have been able to understand sothing so simple ages ago, but it seems like you are way too much of a dunce, Morga. Still clinging to your obsession... still trying to build sothing that has ceased to exist."
The witch raised her head. Her eyes flashed with defiance. "You are blaming for all the wrong reasons. These wolves appreciate my interference, Tristana. They got everything. Power, wealth and even immortality. What’s there for them to complain about?"
She jutted her fingers over her shoulders and stated in a cold voice, "Those pathetic creatures... do they even know what they have gotten themselves into? That after you are done with them, they won’t even have a soul to offer to the lord of hell?"
"They certainly know what they are going to lose after getting involved with ."
"Do they?" Tracy hissed. Her voice turned colder with each word. "Then they might also know that you hold no love or care for them. That shifters are nothing but a kind of moving magical battery in your eyes. The rage and grudge that you hold against them? That trusting you is like trusting a mad psychopath with a dagger? Or did you tell them that you want to see their kind extinct or that you run an illegal site where you kill the young, old and weak for fun?"
Her expression tightened for just a flick of a second. And that alone was enough for her to know the truth. Of course, Morga hadn’t told the truth to these shifters. She couldn’t because they would have never trusted her then.
"Killian knows," the witch smiled at her in that know-it-all way. "He was quite eager to accept my gifts—"
"Killian?" Was that why the man was trying to get close to Inez? No, that man might be a lot of things, but he truly cared for Inez. This was sothing that she had long noticed. That man would never make a deal with this witch. Not unless he wanted to see Inez dead.
I really want to go and look for Inez; it feels much better to stay with her instead of this woman.
Then what are you waiting for? Finish this. Those lycans cannot hold on for this long.
"Are you going to leave this vessel on yourself, or shall I help you?" Tracy asked. "I am not in the mood to listen to your lies or whatever truth that you want to tell ."
Morga’s eyes flashed with rage. "You will regret this, Tristana. I will make you regret even poking your nose in this matter. My followers are all over this city; you will pay for what you did to —"
Tracy raised her head and sent the woman flying.
A loud thump echoed inside the chamber. The woman hovered in the air for a few seconds before crumpling down on the floor. Her body, the vessel that she had taken from a child, was too weak to begin with, and after getting possessed, it had beco even weaker.
Those black scleras turned white, and the swirling red pupils changed into silvery grey.
Tracy winced softly when she saw the young woman looking around; her gaze t Tracy’s.
"S–save ."
"There is nothing to save, my dear," Tracy told the teenage girl. She was not lying, as the soul and the body of this woman were way too weak; she wouldn’t survive even if Tracy tried to save her.
Another glance at the almost dead eyes; Tracy shifted on her heels, and as she walked out of the chambers, a trail of bloody footprints was left behind.
Morga was not dead. Only a fragnt of her soul had disappeared, and unless she could trace back the real body that was causing all this trouble, there was no point in destroying one vessel. Another one would soon pop up.
The mutilated bodies shivered and trembled. Their eyes flicked toward her together at once. Tracy paused. A rare tinge of guilt and the desire to save them flooded in her heart, but then she looked away and walked past the many cylindrical glass cages.
I am not your hero. Don’t look at a sinner with the gaze you would use on a hero.
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