There's A Circle of Witches

We require your grief, the thugs help the thieves

Hello there!!

I wanted to make an in-between chapter going back to the 1920s.  It will tie in for the next chapter with Darla and Kid still!

I did a lot of research on the warlock group I mentioned but I changed SOME detail to tie it to my story!  I mentioned in the first book how Kid was rum running and smuggling narcotics in the 30s, and now we get the origin of it!

Music:  up until now I've been SO exact on the month and year of songs (from the 20s until now) but for this chapter I used a song from the 40s because I won't get into the 40s and this song with young PURE Alistair breaks my fucking heart <3

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April 21, 1920

Sheffield, England

Brearley Steel Factory

Kid smoothed his hand against the side of his perfectly combed hair. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he unbuttoned his shirt leaning forward in the office chair. Smoke filled the room as he exhaled, reaching for the telephone.

He lifted the receiver to his ear and held the stand placing the transmitter close to his mouth. An operator inquired and Kid answered. "147 Boulevard Saint-Germain." He exhaled out his nose and laid the lit cigarette on the ashtray waiting to be connected to Alistair.

"Allô?" He heard Marie on the other line.

"Marie, it's Kid. I need to speak to Al."

Marie hesitated. "Sorry... he isn't here." She heard Kid sigh and wanted to sound genuine. "Is everything okay?"

"No...I need to talk to him. It's mother—she.." Kid swallowed sharply, unable to speak it into reality. "She passed."

Marie furrowed her brows and looked down to her hand, turning her fingers over, eyeing her fresh manicure. She tilted her head "I'm so sorry to hear."

"When do you expect him to return?"

Marie sighed looking down the hall into the bathroom. She could hear Alistair shaking in his bath. "I'll have him call you back as soon as he returns."

Kid furrowed his brows looking down at the desk. He looked over the card his brother left him. He heard Alistair say it again. "Come to Paris, there's nothing here."

"Are you still there?" Marie almost jumped startled by the sound of Alistair opening the door with a towel wrapped around his lower body.

"I can hear him." Alistair shook, frowning. His hair was tightly slicked back from the bath water. His body looked leaner, more frail. His skin was paler.

Alistair was in transition. As promised, Marie turned him on April 1st. She wanted to wait a few weeks but he insisted. It would take 40 days for him to adapt to his senses, to control his thirst and emotions, and to be able to walk in the sun.

"I can hear him ...I can hear everything." Alistair furrowed his brows adjusting to his new heightened senses. He grabbed the receiver from Marie.

"Al..." She protested worrying over his state.

"Kid I'm here. She's....she's gone?" Alistair felt his heart race and his body ache. "She's gone...." His lip shook and pouted and his brows lifted. His emotions poured out as he let out a short sob.

Kid held back sensing his brother's agony. He knew, even though Alistair left their mother, that he was closer to her than he ever was. "Al...I'm sorry."