"Then we don't charge at him head on but organize a sneak attack," Elijah gestured animatedly at Micah. "You can teleport now, can't you? Just grab the cardinal alphas and vanish, end him before he blinks, poof, and return back. Plan executed."
Micah's lips pressed into a thin line as he gave his uncle the shittest look. He should have known the man would never change.
He spoke through gritted teeth, "Even witches can create wards that keep out teleporters like me. You certainly don't think the man who sired me hasn't considered the possibility of me appearing—" he paused, making a mocking motion with his hand, "poof—and taking his head. He would have already put measures in place. And how am I supposed to know he'll even be there when I show up to end him?"
Now that Micah pointed it out, it was clear Elijah's suggestion made no sense. He was practically telling his nephew to walk into a trap. But no one called him out on it. Not when his pride filled the entire room.
