Purge

People. There were almost as many in the room as there were probably spaces in the manor, and Jean could only hope his wild estimations were entirely off. Knowing he was somehow related to every person he cast his gaze on stupefied him.

He couldn't remember the last family reunion.

This is far overdue...

His gaze panned around the room as he stood cross-armed in the shadow of a shelf. His extended family arrived, earlier than he woke up for the day, much to his surprise. The very young children were still sleeping even now as it approached noontime, as the family had traveled from Iroquin by plane the night before. He didn't bother questioning their reasons for arriving so early.

That wasn't what had him on alert.

Someone, and someone with an uncanny sense about them, was watching him. Their gaze was so intense, he was certain their scrutiny would have been obvious even if he was a human. Initially, he didn't think much of it. What bothered him was that after he was noticed by this someone, he remained noticed. They barely took their eyes off him.

Part of him wanted to know why.

The rest of him knew it was going to happen no matter what, making it pointless to consider wondering.

He didn't even have it in him to sigh.

He spotted several members of his family he hadn't seen in what felt like forever ago. His grandaunt, Regina, the younger sister of his grandmother, Leigh, stood out like a sore thumb among the women who stood and sat on one side of the living space within the dining room. The women seemed to crowd around her, the eldest living member of the family, like moths to a light. Their movement and mannerisms seemed subconscious as they never moved more than a few feet from her, and they kept their eyes fixated on her when she spoke.

His lips pursed. The men were no different around her. However, Jean would daresay the men his age avoided looking at her directly.

One could say whatever they wanted about the Lowell women. But one from within, a member of the family, couldn't deny the fact they, in many frightening ways, ruled over the family.

The living space in the dining room had been rearranged to fit several more upholsteries, and several individuals sat in chairs or stood around. Low chatter pleasantly filled the space, and tea and light whiskey were served to the guests.

No, not guests. Everyone was a resident when they came to the Lowell Manor if they were Lowells themselves, whether by birth or marriage.

And while it seemed the room's inhabitants were enjoying themselves, Jean could see with a critical eye and sense that some members were becoming anxious.

His eyes flickered to Hugh who approached him, his hands rubbing together anxiously. "Where the hell are they?"

Jean didn't respond, though he wondered the same. His eyes glanced at the clock above the sitting space.

Where was Antonio's family?

Leveling his gaze, he slightly frowned. It would not surprise him if the nephilim was going to be, or trying to be, "fashionably late".

"Is anyone wondering where they are?" Jean asked his brother-in-law, his voice carrying well with aid from his microphone.

"Your mother, Friedrich..."

Jean panned his eyes towards his mother. He noticed her slightly furrowed brows, but she kept her expression otherwise smooth and even. The slight distress, if one could even call it that, disappeared completely whenever she spoke to her aunt, giving the older woman her full, unadulterated attention.

Uncanny, that.

But respectful.

"There is a storm," Jean reminded.

Hugh didn't respond, exhaling deeply from his nose and opting to continue pacing.

Jean watched after him for a moment, then finally felt the gaze of the Someone intensify. They were approaching him.

In short moments, he fixed his eyes on Aurora, his grandcousin. She was around his age, born of his older cousin Elian, who was also in the manor. Like many of the older women who were Lowells by birth, she held her long blonde hair in a single thick braid. What made her stand out from the other women in the family was the dark makeup around her eyes, making her already bright blue orbs all the more striking.

"Jean," she said smoothly. "Do you remember me?"

He slightly narrowed his good eye. "Afraid not."

She hummed, scanning him. "Shame. We never did get along..." She briefly glanced around before dragging her eyes back over him. "You're so different today. So assured, such a presence, yet so quiet and almost invisible if not for your scars."

He looked past her, suppressing a sigh, before lowering his mic's output. "What do you want, Aurora?"

"So you do remember me."

"Maybe I don't want to."

She tittered. "That's more like you." She came to stand rather close by his side, hands daintily held over her abdomen, to scan the room with him. "I've heard so much about you lately..."

Glad she stopped staring at him, he ignored her.

She must have noticed, as she stopped speaking, but she was still far too close for comfort. He dealt with it for the moment but his tongue was ready to tell her off if need be.

"How is Euphie?"

His eyes slanted. "Healthy. Alive. All parts intact."

She frowned at him. "By your speech I take it you haven't courted her."

"Why would I?"

Blue orbs rolled. "She's loved you since we were children, Jean."

So Celezar told him. Truthfully, he never noticed. "I see her more as a relative than a possible partner."

She tut. "Such a shame..." There was an inflection in her tone when she asked, "Do you like men?"

His gaze remained fixed forward. "If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"Probably not."

"Yes, Aurora. I do."

She slowly nodded. "Interesting. You never seemed like the type..." She paused. "Though in a way it's oddly fitting."

He wasn't certain if that was a slight or not, so he didn't react. "You're annoying."

"I wouldn't be a good cousin if I wasn't."

He grunted.

"I, myself, have been with other women. I prefer them, actually."

He made a slow blink. "Bully for you."

"I also see you've allowed Elaine to join the hunters..." She hummed, raising a hand to observe her long fingernails. "Unusual for you. You really have changed..."

"I'm so glad I take up space in your head."

She laughed outright. "Always one for conversation." She turned to face him, smiling keenly. "Do introduce me to one of your partners sometime, if you have any."

He briefly met her eyes, then watched her walk further into the room.

Glad that was over with, and that her gaze no longer lingered on him, he cracked his neck to the side. That was time he'd never get back...

Shortly, he saw a servant appear in the doorway of the room. They didn't walk inside but moved to reappear slightly behind his mother with her head and eyes lowered. His expression slightly fell when his grandaunt gave the servant, a young woman, the darkest of glares. He doubted anyone could see the slight cower in the servant's posture, but she dutifully whispered to Gwendolyn.

The servant then disappeared as Gwendolyn stood, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. Once all eyes were on her and the voices quieted, she said, "It would appear the missing members of our reunion have finally arrived."

Murmurs filled the room.

"I wonder what took this...Antonio," said Ritchie, one of Jean's cousins-in-law. He was one of the few men standing beside their wives, a small glass of whiskey and ice in his hand.

"The storm, likely, but I don't trust him," said his wife, Lily-Anne. Soft murmurs of agreement chorused around her. "From what you've said of him, Gwendolyn, I don't trust him raising one of our youngest."

Jean looked at her. She was his grandaunt's eldest living grandchild and Aurora's older sister. Her father, Elian, sat in his wheelchair in the small divide between the women and men, and was one of many nodding at Lily-Anne's words.

Hugh made a soft grumble and briskly left the room. Knowing where this could go, and what his brother-in-law would love to do, Jean uncrossed his arms and followed after him with long strides. He didn't call for the older man, deciding to simply watch the scene unfold and play referee as needed. A servant was opening the door as he and Hugh entered the foyer, and he slowed upon sensing more members of his family behind him.

In from the door came Patty wearing an all-white, fluffy winter coat, matching white bonnet revealing her blonde curls, and boots. Upon seeing Hugh, her expression brightened. "Hello! I'm sorry we're late," she said. "There's a storm in Connecticut that kept us."

Hugh's mannerisms immediately changed upon seeing her. He slowed and came to a stop a few paces from the foyer's center. "Ah...I see. Well, at least you made...it..."

What made Hugh trail off had to be the second person who entered. Jean's eyes went wide upon seeing a tall woman wearing red, gold, and black. She was taller, even, than Antonio. Her jet black hair was styled in a tubular, upright gold and silver turban adorned with colorful beads. The moment Jean's eyes met her form, he was hit with the sensation of powerful, unfamiliar magic.

It didn't help that her hazel-brown, bespectacled eyes immediately locked onto him, shining and keen with awareness. Curvy lips painted a deep violet curled upward in a smile, and her focus went to Hugh. "Yes, there is a sudden nor'easter, I'm afraid," she explained, her voice velvety and heavy with a Nahuatl accent.

Jean swallowed, though he didn't know why. He had only sensed power even remotely like hers once...so long ago.

Thirty years ago.

This woman...is a witch.

His family despised witches.

Shortly after she entered came a much shorter woman with long, pale blond hair in a large cream-colored winter beret. She wore a matching, floor-length coat. Electric blue eyes a different shade from the Lowell norm panned over him and Hugh, then she urged Patty further inside.

"We're late, now," she said. "They're probably mad at us."

There was something about her words that insinuated more than simple conversation, and it was picked up by Patty, apparently, as the girl walked in with a frown directed at the woman. "They'll understand," she said softly. She turned to look at Hugh. "Right?"

Hugh simply nodded.

The women moved in, and three servants took their coats along with Patty's. The girl thanked the servants, seemingly oblivious to the small crowd that had formed nearer to the entrance of the dining room that observed them. The women, who were obviously her "Mammina" and aunt, also thanked the servants, who merely gave bows before disappearing with the coats.

"Welcome," said Gwendolyn as she approached, coming from behind Jean into the foyer. "You must be...?"

"Cocoliloc," said the tall woman, smiling pleasantly at the matriarch. "Cocoliloc Tōnalli."

"Serafina Alighieri," the shorter woman replied, her eyes scanning the room with a sense of apathy.

Gwendolyn nodded. "Pleasure to meet you. Will Antonio...?"

Cocoliloc's smile turned shrewd. "The men are coming." She waved her hand with a soft chuckle. "They do enjoy talking with the others."

"Others?"

"Yes." Cocoliloc slightly tilted her head to the side. "I believe you call them servants. Foul, that," she said offhandedly, walking closer.

Jean's brow rose, but before anything more was said, a dark navy-clad young man entered the open door along with the taller form of Antonio. "Man, that was something," the nephilim whistled, removing his hat to relinquish it and his coat to a servant. "Thanks."

"Yeah, thanks," said the young man as his belongings were taken, his voice surprisingly juvenile despite appearing to be in his young twenties. His platinum blond hair was even longer than Antonio's and his eyes were a truer blue than his uncle's.

As the servants disappeared again, Hugh finally spoke, focusing on Cocoliloc. "Perhaps you are unaware, but the servants aren't human." He shifted to another foot, an agitated gesture.

The older woman shrugged. "It matters not."

The young man beckoned towards the dining room and its occupants watching from the doorway. "Somethin' smells good," he said playfully, grinning.

Clocking him upside his head, causing him to scowl, Antonio nodded towards Gwendolyn. "Sorry we're late. This knucklehead is my nephew, Lucien."

Lucien glared at his uncle, then also nodded at her. Upon seeing her inquisitive nod, he shrugged. "Yeah, he's my old man's younger brother."

"And you're a pain in my ass," Antonio chuckled, ruffling his nephew's once pristine locks.

"Not the hair!" his nephew hissed, swiping his hand away.

Slowly nodding, Gwendolyn made a soft, somewhat dismissive sound. Only after she turned around did Jean see she was irritated. "Come. Lunch is ready."

Jean didn't move, watching after her, then focused on his brother-in-law. Hugh turned and began to leave after Gwendolyn, and only then did Jean slowly follow.

The members of his family who had watched retreated into the dining room, spreading into the area where a larger table stood in place of the previous one from the day before. As conversation, brief and casual, droned, he kept a close peripheral eye on Antonio. The nephilim seemed far less somber this time, which somewhat, and only somewhat, eased Jean's bated worries.

Conversation arose once more as everyone slowly settled in. Some servants had gone to get the adolescents who had been around the manor, bringing even more people into the room. Among those people were Hyacinth and her family, all seven of them.

Only then did the atmosphere in the room change.

"Oh! Patiel!" Hyacinth greeted, smiling brightly at the girl as she approached her chair. "It's so good to finally meet you, dear. I am your grandaunt."

Patty smiled back, her cheeks slightly flushing. "Hello."

A soft gush emitted from the older woman, causing Jean's hidden eye to twitch. In any other occasion, in any other manor, this would be a wonderful feeling, having so much family around. But what was soon to come was what he dreaded most. His family loved to talk, and he knew the Alighieri family was due for unpleasant questions and comments. Likewise, his family was going to be shocked, appalled; all the things that had been demonstrated were a possibility and outright likelihood when Antonio and Patty visited earlier that year.

Once everyone had settled in their seats, with Regina sitting at the end of the table in place of Gwendolyn, one of the doors at the far end of the room opened. Out came several servants with plates that were placed in front of each person at the table. Sounds of appreciation arose as the food was beheld. Said sounds mainly came from the children who didn't know any better. The Lowell adults, of course, expected nothing less from the servants.

"Thank you," Patty said to the servant who served her. Her small, high voice carried well above the others at the table, bringing a few eyes to her. She didn't seem to notice, admiring her food with her eyes.

The dish was coq au vin, a lovely stew for the cold weather. This recipe had come from the Gaulish side of the Lowell family and took on a reddish-brown hue. The aroma filled the dining room, making Jean's stomach growl with unabashed hunger.

Once all the plates were placed, the servants moved to stand against the wall behind their patrons to personally attend to them if needed. Each stood as still as a statue, their hands behind their backs and eyes lowered to the floor.

The family placed their hands together to pray over their food. Before closing his eyes, Jean noticed the only one among the Alighieris who also raised their hands aside from Patty was Cocoliloc.

Because this was a family affair, Regina, the eldest matriarch, spoke aloud, "Praise be to the Creator, Lady of Creation, for this, our second meal of the day."

"Glory to Creation," the family chorused.

A soft prayer in Nahuatl met Jean's ears. Cocoliloc hadn't prayed to the Creator but to Sol. She was a sun witch, then.

While lowering his hands. Jean caught Patty also putting her hands down before taking her spoon and dipping into her stew.

"Ah, Antonio," said Elian, his voice inquisitive, "you and your family are not a follower of Ragna?"

"No," the nephilim easily replied, all of his attention on his food. "Not the four of us, anyway."

"Ah." Elian's brows furrowed for just a moment. "Well, thank you for raising Patty in our family's religion."

Smiling, though it seemed more like a smirk, Antonio raised his gaze from the bowl.

"I chose Ragna," Patty replied.

Several heads turned in her direction. The girl ate daintily, taking a spoonful of the stew at a time. Her attention was also on her food, but she seemed to notice the eyes on her and eventually looked up.

"What do you mean, child?" Regina asked. Before someone could respond, she eyed Antonio, who wasn't looking at her. "You chose it?"

Momentarily closing his eyes, Jean sighed wearily into his stew.

"I chose it because I feel a connection to it," the girl continued, her voice casual and innocent, seemingly unaware of the tension her words had caused. "I do believe in the Elevates and Infernals, and in the Creator."

Eyes of varying colors immediately darted to look at Antonio, some suspicious and others wary. "And you do not?" Regina asked, narrowing her eyes.

The nephilim was in the middle of taking a bite of chicken. There was something about his expression Jean noticed that gave the distinct impression he wished to roll his eyes.

Unfortunately, his impression did not go unnoticed.

"Show some respect, man," said Friedrich, his fork held tightly in his hand.

Swallowing, Antonio looked incredulous but otherwise ignored him. "I don't pray to Her, no."

"Then who do you pray to?" Aurora asked. She hadn't looked at him when she spoke, but she did when her brow rose. "Ruin?"

Nearly everyone at the table looked at Antonio this time, including the children.

Nonchalant, Antonio shrugged. "Nah, not for me. Religion isn't my thing, is all."

"And you, young man?" Gwendolyn asked, putting Lucien in the spotlight.

"Not me either, Ma'am." The part-devil briefly waved a heavily tattooed hand. "My relationship with that sorta stuff's complicated."

As if in succession, waiting eyes went to Serafina and Cocoliloc.

Serafina glanced around the table, a brow rising.

From what Jean's conversations with Hamza told him, Serafina, her real name Seraphene, was a powerful full-blood demon hybrid. What she was, exactly, Hamza didn't know or bother to ask, but the man did explicitly tell Jean that she was the major rock in Antonio's life. If all went south, only Serafina, and likely Patty, could steady him...

When things went south.

"You, Serafina?" Lily-Anne asked once the silence lingered, her voice terse.

Shaking her head, Serafina easily responded, "That is none of your business."

Eyes around the table narrowed. "What's wrong with asking?" said Hyacinth, genuine confusion in her tone.

"Religion is personal," the demoness simply explained.

"Religion is necessary," Quincy, Regina's husband, said with a darkening expression. "We are only human. Without a spiritual guide, we are lost."

"To you, perhaps," hummed Cocoliloc, taking a piece of chicken out of her bowl and onto a plate to cut into. "Spirituality and religion are not entirely mutual."

"Well, what are you, then?" Elaine asked, her voice carrying the same tenor of frustration as the other members of her family.

Cocoliloc's eyes twinkled. "That, my dear, is none of your business, either."

Aurora casually hummed, "I wouldn't be surprised if you're a witch."

Jean blinked into his food at her gall, coughing from surprise, while the table resounded with sounds of shock.

"Of course you wouldn't be," Cocoliloc calmly retorted with a polite smile.

"Whoa, wait," said Lucien, eyes wide. He grinned at Aurora, though there was a canny look in his eyes. "You're a witch, too? Nice."

Jean wasn't the only one to cough, this time.

Eyes jumped between Aurora and Cocoliloc with alarm and outrage. "You two are witches?!" Phoebe, an older and typically reserved cousin, spat.

Aurora's stare at Lucien could have burned the table to ashes. The part-devil, on the other hand, continued eating with a friendly smile. "I wouldn't call myself that," she said steadily, "but I suppose our family would."

Cocoliloc shrugged, looking Phoebe in the eye. "I am."

Patty frowned, looking between everyone with worry. "What's wrong with being a witch?"

No one had the chance to respond before utensils clattered on the table.

"That's it," Hugh growled. His eyes, hard and blazing with anger, bore into Antonio as he slammed his hands on the table and stood. "First you taught my daughter heretical beliefs, and now you mean to tell us her only maternal figure is a witch?!"

"If anyone has to even ask such a question--!" Quincy couldn't finish, glaring at Elian and Priscilla, Elian's wife. "Did you know this about your daughter, Elian?!"

"Of course not!" Elian shouted back, face flushed with anger. He then turned to his wife with narrowed eyes, and the woman nearly shrunk.

"No, no, of course not!" Priscilla broke into tears, both offended and deeply hurt.

Jean wiped his mouth before sitting back in the chair to observe. As the family broke out into accusations and more shouting, borderline screaming, he caught Oren whispering to Hyacinth. He didn't bother listening in, but the goblyn was animated. All he hoped was that his uncle was trying to convince his wife to leave.

"When?!" Elian bellowed at his daughter, bringing Jean back into the conversation.

Eerily calm, Aurora looked towards Hyacinth and Oren. "Convergence 1998."

Hearts skipped a beat, as did words, before more shouting erupted.

Lily-Anne gasped, "Hyacinth! You knew this whole time?"

Tal, one of Hyacinth's children, covered his ears with a soft whimper. "I don't like!" he shouted, bringing his mother to softly shush him.

"ENOUGH."

The table immediately went quiet. All eyes, save for few, focused on Regina. The matriarch was standing from her chair, and her eyes were closed.

"Jean-Luc."

Meeting his grandaunt's gaze, Jean felt a weight settle inside him.

He hadn't missed the signs. During the balking and accusations, screaming and awkward staring, several conversations went around the table at once. Namely, Friedrich, Gwendolyn, and Regina passed words between themselves. Jean hadn't needed to listen.

He knew.

He resigned himself. "Yes, Ma'am?"

The elder woman calmly huffed, lowering her hands from the table. "There is clearly more than a taint or two at our table."

Several who had stood, including Hugh, slowly sat down while nodding in quiet agreement. Jean caught his brother-in-law pass a look at Artie, Friedrich, and Elaine.

"Yes, Ma'am," he agreed, briefly closing his eyes. He opened them to look at Aurora, who watched him with quiet interest.

Pleased with his cooperation, Regina looked at Antonio. Sometime during the chaos, the nephilim had finished his food. He calmly stared back at her. "You do not understand, young man," she said to him, "but I'm afraid the damage is done. I do not trust you with Patiel, and I'm certain you are aware of our suspicions on you."

Antonio slowly, almost automatically, nodded, but a dark spark formed in his eye at the mention of his daughter.

"We have decided that she will stay with us for the foreseeable future," Regina continued, focusing her gaze on Patty.

The girl shrank beneath her great-grandaunt's eyes. "B-but I don't want to--"

"Hush, child," Gwendolyn snapped. "You will listen."

As Patty's lower lip slightly trembled, Serafina's hand quickly landed over Antonio's as he openly glared at the woman.

"But I don't want to stay here," the girl continued, her voice soft yet fearful. "I don't like you."

While Gwendolyn narrowed her eyes at her, Regina continued addressing the table, "We will deal with this as we always have. As a family, under one banner." She met Antonio's eyes again. "You do not belong here. Leave the witches to us."

Pale blue eyes blinked as Antonio froze, then they unfocused. "The witch...?" he whispered, as if disoriented.

"We do not suffer witches in this house." Regina panned her eyes on both Aurora and Cocoliloc.

Serafina stood with her brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. She whispered something to him, and the nephilim blinked back to the present.

Cocoliloc softly chuckled, moving to stand. As she did, Jean, Friedrich, Hugh, Elaine, and Artie jumped to their feet. "I'd watch myself, if I were you."

"Threatening me, witch? In my home?" Regina laughed.

"No. This is a kind warning, but not on my behalf."

More people moved to stand, and mothers swiftly started ushering their children away from the table as the atmosphere radically shifted. Patty immediately ran to Antonio's side and hugged him, and Jean watched Hugh briefly jerk forward.

Placing her palms together, Cocoliloc shook her head. "I say this with all the remnant kindness in my heart, woman. We would leave peacefully, but do not threaten my family. You are out of your league by several million margins, and I would hate for something to happen to yours."

Regina looked at Gwendolyn. Her niece finally stood, head held high. "It is time, then."

With near inhuman speed, all those carrying weapons grabbed guns from hidden holsters and pointed them at Aurora and Cocoliloc. Quincy, Artie, Ritchie, Elaine, and Friedrich stood ready for the final order.

Slowly revealing Ringe, Jean turned to face and turn his gun on Hyacinth, who quickly stood in alarm. Oren was in front of her in seconds, and Jean shook his head with solemn resignation.

"Om chia a zol de olapireta," Regina intoned.

Her words were repeated religiously by every other member of Jean's family, and his jaw locked as he prevented himself from saying them.

We are the Hands of Light.

Damn him if he didn't try to live by it.

His eyes closed. "Hold your fire, men." Before anything more was said, he lowered his weapon and looked into Antonio's direction, pointedly missing his eyes. "He's a nephilim."

Sounds of alarm echoed loudly through the room. Friedrich looked swiftly at Jean, then at the nephilim in question.

With a low growl building in his throat, Antonio scooped Patty into his arms. "We're leaving," he said, a red, demonic burn in his eyes, causing several to shout in alarm and drop their weapons as if singed.

Jean turned to Oren and panned over Aurora as the Alighieris quickly left the room. "You two, get going."

"Jean--"

He glared at Hyacinth. "Now."

She gathered her children to her, and Oren gave him a strange look before they also left. Aurora slowly stood, then made her quiet, almost methodical leave.

As voices, hushed and hurried, could be heard in the hall and foyer, Jean met Regina's eyes. His grandaunt stared hard at him, lips parted with an expression he couldn't, or maybe didn't care, to discern. Slowly, he watched understanding, realization, and horror morph on her face.

"Inhuman!" she abruptly shrieked. She pulled her husband's arm toward him. "Shoot! Shoot him NOW!"

Several shots rang in Jean's ears before he had a chance to brace himself.

When nothing came, he looked up at a familiar inhuman at his side.

Red eyes on a tawny face glared at Quincy, and a bellowing snarl ripped from Celezar's throat.

"Celezar!" Jean said, exhaling with relief.

"Wait!" said Friedrich, holding out his arm to prevent anyone from attacking. "He's part devil!"

"No!" Regina's hands were like talons at her sides, eyes wild and ablaze. "W-we must kill them--!"

Celezar wrapped an arm around Jean's waist, holding him to his side. "It's over now, love," he said softly.

The world seemed to narrow, grow quiet. Jean only heard his mate's words, and he nodded solemnly against his chest.

"Wha..." Hugh looked between them, body shaking.

"Is that how you became inhuman?!" Tristan shouted, not twenty feet away. "Jean--!"

"He's not Jean anymore," Gwendolyn snapped, making eye contact with Jean.

When Celezar gently planted a kiss over his good eye, Jean caught her looking away with a sound of disgust.

"Let's go?" Despite everything, Celezar's words were a question.

"Yeah," Jean whispered stiffly. "This isn't home anymore."

As the scenery changed to a quiet, warm bedroom that smelt of himself and his mate, he rested his head against Celezar's chest. His eyes fluttered when his mate's comforting embrace of security and love encompassed him. After a moment, he realized he wasn't breathing.

He took a shuddering breath at last.

It's over.