The man's mind had been a dark, cruel place. He had his own story, his own traditional past that led him to where he was today.
Not that it mattered, so what if he had a rough childhood? If his heart was broken? His family ripped apart by disease? Did that somehow excuse him from the acts he had done later on?
Had he not also ripped apart families? Broken hearts with his dark acts?
Nothing he experienced even came close to the evil he committed, the pain and fear he caused; his life was one filled with death, death he caused, horrible, cruel death.
Whatever fate the Church had in mind for him, he deserved that, and so much more.
Fae eyes were able to see the truth of things, able to see through lies, that and divine power, I saw what I wanted.
That man had once encountered a dark witch of great power, one who reminded him so much of Morgan, or at least of Morgana, the Marvel version being countless times more evil than my sister ever was.
My sister was a dark witch in name only. Sure, she killed people, she manipulated people, but beyond that? She just wanted to rule, to take my place as king.
Morgana? She was pure evil, as was the witch this man met. She used the life force of the innocent to stay young and alive, giving herself a twisted form of immortality.
I didn't even want to imagine the number of lives she had taken.
I saw the interactions between them, the dark deals struck, how she would teach him in return for dark gifts and the lifeblood of innocents, the mountain of bodies sacrificed in the name of knowledge.
Selene Gallio was her name, and she was the one in charge of everything that had been happening in France.
Or so he thought, at least, she had also told him to work with the vampires, to use them to draw attention away from Selene Gallio, a distraction.
Never did he realize that he, too, was just part of that distraction.
He was never more than a tool, as long as he paid in life essence, as long as he was useful, he was used and allowed to live, given scraps off the table.
Now, however, he had a better use, drawing attention away from her, and so, she ruthlessly used him. Discarded him after decades of loyal service to her, after sacrificing thousands in her name.
Selene Gallio, I didn't doubt that she was the one behind Lyon; everything in his mind had confirmed it, but I didn't believe that she was the mastermind behind France.
No, that was someone else, someone even more powerful, Morgana.
I had long since figured out what she was doing. After her first attempt failed, she instead grew more cautious; she didn't act herself, she had others do so in her stead.
For many months, mages, warlocks, and worse had attacked my lands and my people, all sent by one unseen hand, Morgana.
She sent them to test me, to learn, to uncover my power, my strength, and weaknesses, and Selene Gallio was another one, but she was different.
The others were weak, fools lured in by whispers and vapors; they were nothing but useless trash. Selene Gallio was clearly different; she herself was a powerful dark witch, one of great power.
She was one of the great three, Morgana, Selene Gallio, and Agatha Harkness; they were the strongest and most evil women in the world.
Without the evil element, a few other women, myself included, as well as the Ancient One, took the top spots for most powerful women, but that didn't take away from the fact that Morgana and this Selene Gallio were powerful. And that was why I knew Selene Gallio was important.
She wouldn't let herself be used like that, so if she were working with Morgana, she would be working closely with her.
No matter the nature of their relationship, I knew that she was key to finding Morgana, one way or another.
Mordred sat sideways on the armrest of the expensive designer couch, her still dirty boots planted on the cushion, staining it with blood and ash, her phone in one hand, and the other shoving snacks into her mouth.
For once, she didn't interrupt. She knew I was thinking deeply about what I had seen, giving me time to go over it all.
Lancelot stood behind me, taking his duties as seriously as always, not sitting down while I was around. Many of my knights took that approach, showing me respect by standing; only during meals or around the Round Table would they sit.
"The name is Selene Gallio," I finally said aloud. "She's behind all of this. Or, more precisely, she's the hand in front of the real hand. A distraction."
"Selene?" Lancelot's voice was edged with steel. "The Black Priestess?"
"Among other titles," I nodded. "The man we captured thought he was working with her. He never realized he was being used. She gave him spells, power, and lies. Used him to stir up chaos and draw eyes toward the vampire problem… and away from her."
"And away from Morgan," Mordred added grimly.I looked at her. "Exactly."
Mordred gave a bitter laugh and leaned back against the wall, staring up at the cracked ceiling. "So we killed a horde of vampires, smashed another cult, and burned down a nest… and all we've really done is make ourselves more visible to the real enemy."
"Good," I said.
Lancelot arched his brow. "You want her to see us coming?"
"No," I replied. "I want her to think we're too loud to be subtle. I want her to see us, hear us, know we're dangerous—but not too dangerous. Just dangerous enough to tempt her hand."
"And if she doesn't bite?" Mordred asked.
"She will," I said with complete certainty. "Because, despite being a tool, that man was a useful one, so he knew a lot."
Mordred gave a savage grin. "Which means you now know a lot."
Lancelot nodded slowly. "Where?"
"She is a powerful witch, not someone who will allow herself to hide away in catacombs, she desires the highest of luxury. Demands the best, and that makes it easy to track her."
Mordred stood, twirling Clarent II once. "Then let's go knock."
"Not yet," I said. "I know of at least a dozen possible places she might be staying, and we might only be able to attack one or two, so unless we want to take the long way around, we need to catch her right away… Which means we need bait," I finished.
Mordred's grin faltered, replaced by a raised brow. "You want to lure her out?"
"No," I corrected. "Not us, I think we should have the Church do the job, they have the manpower to pay every hideout a visit all at once, and strong enough to force her to react, but still so weak she won't take them seriously or run, not before killing the attacker at least."
Lancelot folded his arms. "Your plan requires us to find out which place it is, and get there before she kills the Church members and makes her escape."
I nodded, "Yes, there is some risk to it, that she will kill them too fast for us to learn of her location, but I believe she will be curious about how and why they found her, and give us the time to act we need."
Mordred whistled low, clearly impressed. "Damn. That's devious."
"It's strategy," I said. "And nothing impressive, we are merely taking advantage of the information gap between the two sides."
"Yeah, yeah, we know, they don't, we win, they won't, easy peasy." Mordred said, not really caring about the details.
Mordred kicked her boots off the couch, stretched her arms overhead, and yawned with a kind of bored satisfaction. "So what now? We wait while the Church starts knocking on vampire club doors like Jehovah's Witnesses?"
"We prepare," I replied, "Lancelot, I shall write down the information I gathered, then I hope you can relay it to the resistance and ensure the Church is informed of what they need to know to act."
Lancelot bowed his head, "It shall be done, your majesty."
"Maybe wait a little, let the news of the help we offered them spread first, the more goodwill we have with them, the more likely they are to act as we wish them to," I advised.
Lancelot nodded once, sharply. "Then I'll speak with their commanders, lay the groundwork first. The clergy are proud, but given the lives we just saved, and our actions in Lyon, I have no doubt they will listen and take us seriously, as for the resistance… I assume you plan to use their help in monitoring the Church's efforts, and let young Kurt use his power to get us there fast?"
"Exactly," I confirmed. "The Church will walk through the front door. The resistance will watch through the cracks in the windows. And Kurt will get us wherever we need to be before it's too late."
Mordred tilted her head. "You trust the Church to survive long enough to bait Selene?"
"No," I said calmly, "I trust Selene to want answers more than blood. She'll be confident in her own strength, so much so she won't kill them right away, no doubt, she will play with them, and that, that is our chance."
Lancelot's expression didn't change, but I saw the faint flicker of disapproval. "Using lives as chess pieces—"
"Is war," I cut in. "And she's already killed more than we've ever saved. If it comes down to three hunters versus the countless that will die, should she escape, I won't hesitate."
"Yeah, damned Adulterer, it's just three losers, if they can't stay alive long enough for us to come save them, then they didn't deserve to be saved in the first place."
Mordred paused after saying that, she just stared at me for a bit. Then she slowly nodded. "You've changed."
"I've grown," I replied, and that was all I said.
"Grown more fun yeah, you used to be so stiff, so boring." Mordred didn't share Lancelot's feelings on the matter.
Lancelot bowed. "Then I will begin spreading the word among the resistance and schedule meetings with the Church's field captains. If they act within the week, we can have boots at each target by the next full moon."
"Sooner," I said. "Within the next three days. Any longer, and Selene may slip through our fingers."
"I'll make it happen." Lancelot turned and left the room, his presence heavy with purpose.
Mordred spun her weapon once, holstered it, and dropped back into the couch with a groan. "Guess I'll stock up on snacks. This is gonna be one hell of a week."
"No," I said, walking to the window, staring out at the city below, shimmering under a stormy sky. "It's going to be the beginning of the end."
Because now, we were in the endgame.
(End of chapter)