The Witch's Rebirth 85 Tell Me?

Sugar coating was never my thing. Putting off the inevitable was not my thing, either. The person from the council that was standing in front of me was not who I had expected but I doubt the outcome today would be any different than before.

"Would you just tell me," I said without much patient.

"Gene Yoit, where are your manners?" Peter Warne said chillingly, "I'm a guest. I'm from the council. I deserved a drink and food."

Food and drinks did appear. This, after all, was a room designed to keep my aunts happy. I think he wasn't expecting anything at all from the way I was acting.

"Mind your manners, don't be rude. I've invited you into my home," I said bluntly, "It's almost more than any other has ever come. Talk and let the business be done with I have a lot to do."

"Minx?" he hissed softly.

That is a curse word for those with unworthy blood. Unclean. I don't think I can be a minx but technically, people can call me that since I come from two different line.

"Tell me the verdict and let's be done with this. Then we can be on our merry day." I said cuttingly, I was not in the mood to entertain after hearing the words.

"Minx?" he hissed softly again.

He said the one word the as forbidden to my face, in my home again. I really should throw him out but I won't because he was the lesser evils of the devils in the council. This would have to take place and with him, I probably could be in controlled.

Power hum from the long sword he was carrying. I not only can see it's aura but felt the magic emanate around him wrapping him protectively. Peter was not what he had seemed, he was more powerful than any of us had thought, even Diana was mistaken about him, everyone misread him even me. I really did remind myself not to judge or like people just by first impressions. I could seriously miss something important or maybe that was the reason why I have not solved this case.

If I had to make a guess, I think he had one of the Holy swords that channeled lighting. It was supposed to be made by an archangel or someone along that line and pa.s.sed on from father to son in secret.

"Tell me?"

Peter gave me a cold, appraising look. I had a different impression of him from last night but all my illusions were destroyed the moment he turned into a pompous sn.o.b, it would seem that he did not care about my feelings as was openly hostile.

"Very well then, Gene," he said, shrugging. He cleared his throat. "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Niniane's will."