Keeper(57)

“It was a bloody war, and thousands of lives were lost. It was as if the very fabric of our world was ripped apart, never to be whole again.” Gareth took another breath, as though to steady himself.

“You see, our world is meant to be balanced, each faction equal with every other. This balance is the only thing that protects us—our anonymity—from humanity. This civil war between the factions was threatening the system. If the humans were ever to discover our existence, an even greater war would be inevitable.”

“What were they fighting about?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Power. All great wars are fought over power,” Gareth said. “When the bloodshed became too great to continue, the leaders of each faction agreed to meet to discuss a peace treaty. The result of that meeting was the formation of a fellowship of sorts, a group of Supernatural representatives—one from each faction—chosen for the task of keeping the balance. They called it the Hetaeria.”

Gareth held up a finger and quickly darted down the hall to his room. When he returned, he had a large antique book in his hand. Sitting next to me, he flipped the pages until he reached an old painted portrait of ten or so men and women dressed in long black capes. Behind them, several rows of severe-looking men all in black stood at attention.

“The Hetaeria created a new set of laws to ensure that no one faction had more power or more control than any other. They also enlisted other Supernaturals to serve as militia. The Guard, as it was called, was tasked with enforcing the new laws and working as protectors for Supernaturals in peril.” Gareth indicated the photo and sighed heavily. “They’re the ones who hunted down your mother, Lainey.”

I leaned over and studied the faces of the men in the photographs. They didn’t look like killers to me.

“But I don’t understand. If the Hetaeria was created to keep the balance, to be peacekeepers, then what happened to my mom? Why would they or the Guard want to hurt her?” I trailed off, feeling overwhelmed by the complexity of Gareth’s story. “Why would they want to hurt me?”

Gareth closed his eyes for a moment, as if in pain, and then continued. “The Hetaeria was successful in keeping the peace for quite some time, until a young man by the name of Emmett Masterson infiltrated it and began to pervert its mission.”

The ominous tone in Gareth’s voice made me shiver.

“He was power hungry, even from the time he was a young man. He had a cruel nature and saw himself as king of the Supernatural realm.”

“There’s a king?”

Gareth shook his head. “No. That was the purpose of the Hetaeria: to balance the power among the factions. But Masterson sought control of the factions—to hold dominion over them all. He ended up selling his soul to a Sorcerer of Darkness and began using black magic to amplify his abilities. He became incredibly powerful. Then he began to strike down those weaker than himself.”

Gareth took a deep breath, clearly affected by his own story, but steeled himself. “First, he manipulated the Guard. He is incredibly charismatic, you see. He began to poison their minds with talk of a new order, of overthrowing the Hetaeria, of a world united under a single rule: his rule. He quickly gained a following among them, and any who opposed him either fled or were murdered. It wasn’t long until Masterson had overthrown the faction leaders and eradicated the Hetaeria altogether. He dropped the last part of his surname and began calling himself ‘The Master.’”

The Master. My heart skipped a beat. I thought back to my visions of Josephine, of the man cloaked in shadows. Don’t lie to me, you foolish girl. I know you have it . . . and I want it. I shuddered at the memory. It was all starting to make sense now.

Gareth and I were both silent for a moment, lost in our own memories. Then Gareth began to speak again, his voice even once more.

“The Master began using the Guard to hunt down Supernaturals. Witch, Warlock, Shape-Shifter, Nixie—faction didn’t matter. Any who opposed the Master’s reign was disposed of.”

“But they fought back, right?” I interjected. “The other Supernaturals?”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t that simple.” Gareth smiled sadly. “Fear and greed are powerful motivators, Lainey. Without the Hetaeria allying them, the factions drew into themselves, untrusting of each other. There were also a number of Supernaturals who disagreed with the initial creation of the Hetaeria—people who would rather die than see the factions at peace. They didn’t like the fact that the Hetaeria was imposing what they saw as unnecessary laws upon them. The Master allied himself with those people—with those traitors.”

Gareth looked disgusted. “He imbued the members of the Guard with black magic, turning them into assassins. Not only are they deadly, but they’re also damn near indestructible, even for the strongest of our kind. The Master’s greed sparked another bloody civil war—one we’ve been fighting ever since.”

“How is he even still alive?”

“Supernaturals tend to have longer life spans, particularly if they’re powerful. In the Master’s case, his use of dark magic has given him unnatural longevity, even by our standards.”

A sudden dread settled in my stomach. “It was the Master who killed my mom, wasn’t it?

Gareth leaned forward, his piercing brown eyes never straying from my face. “Yes.”