Cyndra Rae (cyndrarae) wrote,
Cyndra Rae

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Covenant fic: The witch riding your back (5/?)

A/N: There will be sections with 3rd person POV interspersed with the usual Pogue POV, because now there are things happening around him that he directly doesn’t have visibility into. But these should be clearly separated and hopefully it’s not too confusing.
Previous chapters: One | Two | Three | Four

*** Friday, 1820 hours ***

Pogue rubbed the back of his neck incessantly, which to his friends was a well known gesture indicative of how uncomfortable he was. Foosball turned into a drag after two games, and the pool table didn’t fare any better after that. He’d looked around to make sure no one saw him and conjured a shot (or three) of rum into his soda. That helped, but only for a while. His confusion and numbness from two hours ago, was now rapidly giving way to anger.

Fucking sonofa… that bastard.

Pogue downed the rest of his drink and wiped at his eyes. He couldn’t even leave right now because Reid was counting on him for company, and besides he was stuck without his bike once again. Maybe he should learn to teleport after all.

Reid came back with two fresh drinks and sat down next to Pogue. “Lighten up, bro. What is your deal tonight anyway?”

Pogue narrowed his eyes at Reid, and he had the slight suspicion that Reid was asking that question just to make conversation, and that he wasn’t really interested in the answer after all. Or else, maybe, he already knew the answer to that question. “Excuse me for not being chirpy enough for your taste, Garwin. In case you forgot, I haven’t exactly slept for a whole week, you know.”

Reid sighed. “I know, I’m sorry, man. Can only imagine what it’s like for you. But I’m sure Tyler and Caleb will figure it out. It’s all they talk about these days.”

Pogue scoffed loudly at that, sure, that’s why Caleb was on a freaking date and Tyler was… wherever he was. He conjured a few more shots of rum in his coke and rubbed his neck again, not wanting to look like he was complaining or demanding that his friends abandon their own lives just for him.

No, that wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair to his friends.

“You can, you know. Fact, you should.”

Reid sounded cryptic, and the way he stared at Pogue was oddly unsettling.

“What do you mean?”

Reid leaned forward until his face was centimeters away from Pogue’s. “It is okay to expect your best friends to drop everything else in your time of need, tough guy. That’s what friends are for.”

Pogue started. Reid had practically read his mind, how did he do that?

Reid relaxed back into his chair, slumping nearly halfway to the floor. “I lied when I said Tyler had a club meeting, he went to his old home in the colony. Apparently they’ve also got a crypt with books and such – he wanted to check that out.”

Pogue chuckled, though a little sadly. “Good ol’ Tyler.”

“And I don’t know what’s up with this date with Angie. Last time I saw them together, they looked like they were going to call it off, and happily at that.”

Pogue kept his eyes fixed to the bottom of his tall glass and pretended his heart hadn’t just jumped up into his throat. “Maybe they’re trying to work it out again.”

Reid bit his lip and gave it a thought. “Maybe, I wonder why though. He doesn’t seem so into her anymore.”

Because I pushed him away, and now he’s rebounding with that sweet, dependable little doormat, that’s why.

The rum wasn’t working anymore. So Pogue conjured another double shot of whiskey instead, of which he took a giant swig. “When do you wanna head back?”

“Why?” Reid looked at his watch. “It’s not even seven. I brought you out so you could unwind. Let loose a little, bro.”

“Dude, I’m being haunted by an incubus-type… thingie! There is no unwinding for me right now.”

“You can’t let this thing rule every single moment of your life. That’s what it wants right? To break you? Don’t let it, man.”

Pogue felt a sudden urge to cry, but gulped it down just as quickly. “It’s not just that, it’s…”


“I don’t know, a lot of other things I can’t… I don’t…” Pogue didn’t have the words. He wasn’t sure he understood it himself. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay.”

“I think I know what your problem is, tough guy.”

“Really, what is it?”

“It’s your own head, that’s coming in the way of your heart, in the way of what you want.”

Pogue sighed, his face morphing into a very subtle smirk that no one knew it was even there, no one that is, except the one it was meant for. “And what do I want, Garwin?”

Reid met his eyes squarely, then his smirk with one of his own. “You’re a lot more obvious than you think, Parry.”

Pogue started. He couldn’t think of anything sarcastic enough or denial enough anymore. A couple seconds of stunned silence passed before Reid took pity on him and got up from their table, digging his hands into his pockets. “I’m getting something to eat. Do you want anything?”

Pogue managed to shake his head. But just as Reid started to leave, he mutely watched himself reach out for the younger boy, grabbing his wrist until Reid paused and turned around to face him again. He looked down into Pogue’s unsure face, and he waited.

“What if… it’s not really what I want? What if it’s what that… that thing wants me to want?”

Reid scowled, before he looked away as if to control his temper, then he looked back at Pogue again. “Tell me something, tough guy. If a girl is raped, forced to have sex against her will, does it make her want to get raped again?”

“What? That’s ridiculous, Garwin, of…” And that’s where Pogue stopped, his mouth still wide open as realization struck him, hard, like a runaway freight train. … of course not.

It was like a light bulb had been switched on somewhere inside of Pogue. Maybe Reid was right – maybe his night demon’s visitations had only succeeded in dislodging something loose that was already (or always?) there… all these feelings for Caleb, these reactions to Caleb’s closeness, the way his hands on Pogue’s body made it tingle from head to last curling toe…

Someone snapped two fingers right in his face and Pogue blinked, looking up at the coyly smirking face of his friend. “Sure you don’t want anything?”

Pogue shook his head again, and this time when Reid left, he didn’t stop him.

It sounded so simple, so obvious now. But how could he be really,really sure his feelings were not being manipulated by the demon? And even if they weren’t… there was still the matter of Pogue being, uh, not gay. He wasn’t, right?

Of all people, Pogue had never thought he’d be the one suffering a sexual identity crisis, like ever. Tyler maybe (the kid sure followed Caleb around like a little lost puppy – very gay, seriously) and Reid definitely. Everyone knew the guy would fuck practically anything on two legs. But Pogue? Heck he’d never so much as looked at a guy before all this started, and now he couldn’t stop thinking of his best friend… and how warm and big his hands were…

And then there was the whole cool-as-cucumber act by the great leader himself – Caleb seemed to have dealt with his own new feelings for his best friend by totally skipping over the crisis phase and landed directly at comfortable acceptance. Caleb Danvers, ladies and gentlemen!

Fucking backstabbing betraying wifebeater wearing asshole

Pogue drank down the last of his spiked drink and the alcohol now coursing through his system started to make him feel woozy. He put his head down on the table and groaned soundlessly, feeling sick because he hadn’t eaten anything all day and had been mixing drinks all evening.

Could this day possibly get any worse?

Reid walked back to their table and put a basket of fries and two soda pops in front of him. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, man. Guess who just walked in.”

Well, apparently it could.


*** Friday, 1903 hours ***

At Reid’s words, Pogue frowned and raised his head, turning it in the direction that Reid was pointing to. And he wished he hadn’t. Caleb casually ambled into the joint, wearing his favorite black jacket over a steel gray t-shirt and faded blue jeans, with his on-again-off-again girlfriend Angela hanging daintily off one bulging arm. They looked happy, smiled and greeted their friends as they mingled with the popular crowd of Spenser Academy, of which Ms Angela Mayer happened to be the fucking queen, of course.

Pogue grabbed one of the drinks and gazed into it, his eyes flashing a brief but fiery black until he got what he wanted – a really, really strong beer. Nicky would have a coronary if he knew the amount of alcohol that got consumed on a weekly basis between four seventeen-year olds on his premises.

“Wanna go say hi?” Reid asked him, not commenting on the way Pogue seemed intent on drinking himself half-blind.

“N-No thanks. I’m good.” Way better than good, Pogue thought, as he felt the new booze inducing a new hallucinogenic bliss he could lose himself in, for now.

“He’s turning away, good, oops spoke too soon. He sees us. Oh, hey Cale!” Pogue kept his face lowered, listening to Reid’s running commentary but trying hard not to react to it. “He’s walking, he’s walking, he’s coming over. Hide the booze. Hide the booze.”

Why? Who’s afraid of the big bad fucking Danvers?

Caleb reached their table a moment later. “Hey guys.”

Pogue immediately turned away, and for lack of time to work a spell, he placed his glass of beer under this chair before surfacing back up to greet the older boy, the sight of whom practically took his breath away.

Caleb didn’t seem at his composed best tonight, and for that Pogue was secretly glad. Why should he be the only one feeling the brunt of awkwardness last night left them both with? The older boy shuffled on his feet. “I didn’t know you guys were going to, uh, be here tonight?”

Reid answered on behalf of them both, bless the boy’s generous heart. “It’s Friday night, man. Where else would two perfectly normal Spenser Academy juniors not of legal drinking age yet, be?”

Caleb frowned, and in the next moment he immediately fixed Pogue with a critical discerning look. Garwin you little fucker.

Pogue wiped his lips dry and pasted on a big plastic smile. “Oh, hey Caleb!”

Fuck! Was that shrill slurry squeak really his voice? He cleared his throat loudly, or at least tried to. “How’s your date goin’?”

Caleb pursed his lips, looked away once before striding over to the table and taking a seat on the other side of Pogue, while talking directly to Reid. “You got him drunk? Here at Nicky’s?”

Reid put up his hands. “Don’t look at me, man. He got there all by himself.”

“This is not what I meant when I said take care of Pogue and you know that, Reid.”

“Guys, I’m right here…”

Someone on his right (or was it left?) scoffed. “Yeah, barely.”

“He just kept conjuring up one shot after another when I wasn’t looking. You’re lucky I caught him before he killed himself with a large shot of absinthe, man.”

Pogue meanwhile noticed a certain pendulum-like motion rocking his body from one side to the next. “Go back to your girlfriend, Danvers.”

Caleb paused his squabbling with Reid to look at Pogue with an unreadable look in his eyes, or maybe Pogue’s vision was too blurry at this point to see much of anything.

“Seriously, don’t let us ruin it for you man.”

What he really wanted was for Caleb to stay and not go back to that skank whore of his, but even drunk he knew he couldn’t admit that. Pogue Parry had some pride left after all.

Caleb you two-bit two-timing man-slut!

Caleb easily ignored him and went back to arguing with Reid again. Pogue squinted to make head or tail of his swimming visions but it wasn’t helping. Maybe another gulp of the really good beer might help? He bent down to the floor to find his glass, and expectedly couldn’t keep his already teetering balance on the chair, and he toppled over. The crash was loud enough for the people nearby to turn around and laugh or watch with amusement as Caleb and Reid picked Pogue up from the floor. Maybe a couple recognized the signs but they couldn’t be too surprised – teenagers had their ways of smuggling in alcohol and grass and shit into parties after all, and not a damn thing could stop them.

“Right, that’s it. We’re taking him home.”

Pogue wanted to protest but the other two boys were talking over his head again. Reid and Caleb held him up by his arms as they supported him out of Nicky’s and into the back of Caleb’s car.

“But… what about Angie? Don’t… don’t do this to Angie, man!”

Pogue rambled on for awhile and through his drunken haze whether he saw an exasperated and rather sad expression on Caleb’s face or not, he couldn’t be sure. He heard an engine rev beneath him and then the vehicle started to move. He felt a hand gently rubbing in the small of his back and it made him smile in his sleep – but it was probably just his imagination. Reid wouldn’t touch him like that and after last night, Caleb wouldn’t want to. A cell phone rang in the distance and Caleb’s voice filtered down to his barely conscious mind, but he couldn’t identify the words. Heck it didn’t sound like English at all, which was weird – he didn’t know Caleb could speak a foreign language? Oh, must be Latin then.

And then everything faded to a blissful black.

Pogue’s last thought was if Caleb had remembered to say goodbye to Angela before they left.

Caleb you two-bit two-timing RUDE man-slut!


*** Friday, 2120 hours ***

Caleb had spared maybe a minute to apologize to Angela and say his goodbyes to her friends. If she gave him the classic headshake and the pouty-face he ignored them completely, grabbed his jacket and headed out. Between himself and Reid, they half dragged half carried a completely plastered Pogue out to Caleb’s car. Pogue didn’t cooperate in the least as they laid him out face down in the backseat.

Reid jogged away. “I’ll follow in my car, you go ahead.”


Pogue mumbled something incomprehensible as Caleb started to drive. A part of him was so pissed at the boy – he was barely sleeping and barely eating and that was never a good constitution to be getting so drunk on to begin with. Yet another part felt guilty because somewhere Caleb was also responsible for Pogue’s state.

For the millionth and one time, Caleb cursed himself as he sped up on the interstate. Didn’t Pogue have enough to worry about as it is? The nasty demon haunting his dreams, the sleep deprivation (what was this – day five today?) and God he didn’t even want to think of how violated and helpless Pogue must be feeling right now. How could Caleb have thought this a good time to hit on the kid like that?

“What the hell were you thinking, Danvers?”

It’s not like Caleb didn’t have the answer to that question he kept asking himself over and over again – fact was he wasn’t thinking at all. Not with his upstairs brain at least. All he knew was that… something had been changing inside him. Shifting, morphing, slowly but surely for a while now, until five days ago when it just exploded… snapped. Broke free.

Before this week, Pogue Parry was just his best friend – a silent, no-nonsense, hard-skinned type with not a care in this world. He was tough, in control, and definitely a lot cavalier with his life for Caleb’s tastes but then what could you do. Everyone knew Pogue Parry was a free spirit who always did whatever the hell he wanted. He could take care of himself.

All that changed Monday morning when Caleb saw his best friend like he’d never seen him before – as just another seventeen-year old boy, vulnerable and scared, needing Caleb like he hadn’t needed anyone in a really long time. Caleb was suddenly struck by how stunningly beautiful Pogue was, when he wasn’t busy trying to blend into the background. He noticed how endearingly fragile Pogue could be, demanding Caleb’s attention with a desperate and almost childlike urgency, instead of toughing it out as nothing more than a wing man for the rest of the Sons of Ipswich.

So beautiful, so perfect, and so… utterly fuckable.

Caleb sighed and tried to wince his thoughts away. On one occasion he reached behind him to steady the unconscious boy’s body rocking precariously on the backseat. Putting his right hand in the small of Pogue’s back, he could feel the searing body heat through Pogue’s tattered t-shirt and hoped Reid remembered to pick up Pogue’s jacket on their way out. Caleb wanted never to take his hand away again.

“Seriously man, get a fucking grip!”

The phone rang twice before he answered it. It was Tyler.

“Caleb, get Pogue and come back to my old house now.”

“Your old house in the colony? Why?”

“Found something that might help. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

After they hung up, Caleb stuck a hand out of the window and made a circling sign with his index finger twice for Reid, who was tailing him, letting him know what he was about to do. Then he quickly swerved into an illegal u-turn. Reid nodded and followed suit – it was probably the first time in like ever that Reid had obeyed him without question.

They reached the old Simms manor fifteen minutes later. Caleb took one last longing look at Pogue and then biting his lip, quickly got out of the car just as Reid was getting out of his.

“You do it.”


“Just do as I say, alright?” On an afterthought, he added, “Please?”

Reid rolled his eyes and opened the door to the backseat. He managed to flip Pogue over on his back easily enough. But he didn’t entertain any illusions of physical build or strength either, especially when compared to Caleb or Pogue.

“Come on, buddy. Help me out a little okay?”

Reid implored but Pogue was in no mood, rather no condition to oblige. Reid huffed and looked up at Caleb who stood calmly beside the car with his hands in his pockets. Reid’s eyes went black for a flash of a second, long enough for Caleb to note and process. The oldest witch simply shrugged.

Desperate times, Caleb mused, but kept the thought to himself.


The world spun round and round with Pogue in it, and he came to, partially, to realize he was hanging face down off someone’s shoulder. Two strong arms held him snugly around his thighs as he was carried into an old decrepit looking manor in the dark of night. His instinctive reaction was panic and he started to flail.

“Woah, hey, Pogue, it’s me Reid! Relax.”

“Wha- where- what… Reid?”

Someone chuckled behind him and it made Pogue frown – yep that was Reid’s hyena-like sniggering alright. His head hurt and being upside down was doing wonders for his gag reflex, as if the booze hadn’t been enough.

“Put me down, Garwin you l-little fucker!” He realized his voice was still slurry and his limbs heavy and uncoordinated.

“Take it easy, tough guy, just putting you to bed so you can sleep it off.”

“Only Danvers gets to man- man- manhandle me, Garwin. You big fucker.”

Reid smirked at Caleb who was walking a couple steps before him and had turned back in obvious surprise.

“Oh really?” Caleb’s voice was dripping with a stinging sarcasm that Pogue recognized, and he grimaced harder than before. He hadn’t realized Caleb was right there with them.

“I didn’t want you running away from me screaming bloody rape again, Parry, so I’m keeping my distance.”

The snark was pointed and brutal, and even though Pogue couldn’t see Caleb’s face, he knew what he’d find in those dark brandy eyes – unspoken intense hurt – the kind that came from rejection.

Well, technically, Caleb was the one who ran out of the bathroom last night, not him. But Pogue didn’t bother to correct him. Took his booze-addled brain to notice something else – Reid had been listening to the exchange all this time and was still eerily quiet about it.

Did he know?

“Cale, I really don’t…”

“Don’t bother, Reid. I saw Tyler snooping by the door on my way out last night. And you know I know there’s no way he didn’t tell you, so let’s just cut the bullshit, okay?”

Sonofabitch. Everyone knew?!?

Pogue struggled to slither off of Reid’s shoulder one more time but found the iron grips holding him to be surprisingly strong – Reid must have dosed himself up again. Finally he just gave up, going limp and letting himself be carried up the long winding stairs of what looked like one of the old colony houses – Merlin knew whose.

“I hate you guys,” he mumbled, defeated. No one responded.


*** Friday, 2145 hours ***

“Hey guys,” Tyler greeted the three boys from the top of the stairs and then he frowned. “Is Pogue alright?”

Caleb rolled his eyes, and his sudden spurt of anger from two minutes ago quickly evaporated. “He’s just drunk. It’s okay, might even help him sleep. What did you find?”

Reid carried Pogue into what used to be a bedroom. All the furniture in the room was still covered with what used to be ‘white’ sheets. The layer of grime on the carpet was so thick that every step Reid took sent a cloud of dust bursting up around his ankles. Heavy Victorian style drapes shrouded the windows and were clearly a hundred years old, if not more. If Reid had to guess, he’d say they were a combination of royal blue and gold paisley, a perfect match with the rest of the once ornate upholstery in the house.

“Almost there, tough guy,” Reid murmured to which Pogue just groaned mutedly, already on his way back to unconsciousness.

A quick flick of the wrist ensured the bed was cleared and the sheets fresh as if they were brand new. While he was at it, Reid also magically swept all the dust away from the creaking floor up to the high ceiling, and a quick snap turned the floor lamps on to cast a lukewarm yellow light throughout the room. Satisfied with his handiwork, Reid walked to the bed and gently lowered Pogue onto it, then started to pull off the sleeping boy’s shoes and socks.

Two seconds later, Pogue screamed.


Meanwhile, Tyler had pulled Caleb into another room which used to be the library and still housed a part of the Simms family’s archives.

“This had better be good, baby boy.” Caleb chided, but Tyler looked too excited to notice the subtle warning.

“Back in the early sixteen hundreds, someone cursed one of my ancestral aunts with Shadows.”


Of all the ancient curses passed down to them through generations of witchery, that one Caleb hated the most. Way to turn the cursed one’s own shadow against her. It meant she couldn’t go out in the sun or even in any sort of artificial light either because the moment her shadow came into existence, it would take on a life of its own and attack her. Caleb hated the Shadows curse almost as much as Pogue hated Creations. But Caleb knew the demon haunting Pogue wasn’t either, so he let Tyler get on with the story.

“Her father, which would be my great great great great great – “

“Move on!”

“Sorry. He put a spell on this house and its grounds to protect her. Allegedly, he blessed five pieces of blue crystal with his own blood and buried them around the manor in the shape of a pentagram. Course she was then restricted to the grounds for as long as she lived.”

Caleb was starting to understand. “A protection spell on the house.”

“Yep. Nothing supernatural that had an evil or even mildly malicious intent could survive on these premises. It would be rendered powerless instantly.”

Caleb shook his head sadly. “Too bad it couldn’t keep them safe from malicious intent of the regular human variety during the witch trials, huh?”

“Yeah, well.” A second of silence passed as the boys thought back to why their families had to abandon these houses in the original Ipswich colony and run for their lives to escape persecution.

“So how does this help Pogue?”

Tyler grinned. “Caleb, the pentagram’s still intact! No one knows where the crystals are buried exactly and the spell still works. This manor is the safest place on earth for Pogue right now.”

That is – IF there is really something supernatural haunting Pogue, of course. But both the boys kept that thought to themselves.

Caleb rested a hand heavily on Tyler’s shoulder for a brief two seconds – it was how he showed his appreciation and Tyler knew that. “Okay, so we keep Pogue here for the time being while we hunt this incubus-wannabe down.”

Tyler nodded eagerly. “And in the meantime, if I can figure out the spell my great great… that guy created, maybe we could improvise on it?”

Caleb smirked. “And do what? Build a pentagram around Pogue’s dorm room? His house maybe? Ooh hey what about Nicky’s seeing how he likes to drink and pass out every time he goes there?”

Tyler rolled his eyes, Caleb and sarcasm never was as amusing a combination as Caleb liked to think it was. “I was thinking more on the lines of a small piece of crystal blessed for protection that Pogue could… maybe… wear around his neck or something.”

“Okay.” Caleb conceded with a shrug of his eyebrows. That actually did have potential. “How sure are you that this spell still works?”

Tyler frowned confidently. “Dead sure! You can try it if you want. Try killing me. With magic, of course.”

“Excuse me?”

“Alright fine, try killing my cat instead. Wait, there she is!”

Caleb just… stared. At Tyler, not the gray tabby cat meowing pathetically by the stairs.

“Go ahead… blow her up if you want!”

“That’s not really your cat, is she?”

Tyler grinned. “Okay, no she isn’t. But I’m telling you, Caleb. It really works!”

And right on cue, they heard the screaming start in the next room. Caleb was the first to react, rushing out of the library at breakneck (and possibly magical) speed to get to Pogue as fast as he could. God knew if something happened to that boy, he would… he would… damn it! Caleb didn’t know what he would do.


“No! Let me go!!”

“Parry, come on man, don’t do this.”

Caleb slammed open the bedroom doors in outright panic, only to be confront with a scene that was more comical and less macabre than he’d feared.

Pogue, still drunk and still blissfully unaware of his own antics, was struggling to throw off the covers that Reid had so diligently placed over him. And he was hell-bent on getting out of bed while Reid was trying to calm him down.

“I can’t, no, I gotta… I gotta… let go damn you!”

Caleb huffed and took over from Reid, for which Reid was eternally grateful, of course. No one could ever get through to a sober Pogue on the best of days except Caleb, so this was an impossible feat to achieve far as Reid was concerned.

Caleb hesitated for just a second before he threw caution to the wind, grabbed Pogue by his shoulders and firmly pushed him flat against the bed, not letting him get up again. “Hey, look at me Pogue… hey…”

After a few minutes of gentle coaxing, Pogue finally stilled and tried to blink open his already crusting eyes. “Cale?”

“It’s me. You need to sleep, man. Please try and relax, okay?”

Pogue let his head fall back onto the pillow, exhausted, but his face scrunched up in absolute misery. “Can’t. Can’t let it get me… Caleb… please… don’t make me.”

Caleb’s heart nearly broke at the helplessness in Pogue’s voice. He lowered his face close to Pogue’s and whispered soothingly in his ear. “I won’t let it get you, baby. I promise. You trust me, don’t you?”

Even in his stupor, Pogue somehow understood and nodded once, all the fight draining out of him instantly. Caleb swallowed hard, and looked up at Tyler one last time.

Still sure about this?

Tyler met the older boy’s eyes and he also gulped hard but nodded firmly. Absolutely – was his answer.

Caleb turned back to Pogue and whispered to him again. “Go to sleep, Pogue. I’ll be right here, watching over you. I promise. Shhh, sleep, shhh…”

Pogue’s head tilted to one side on the pillow and he finally fell into a deep alcohol and exhaustion induced sleep, much to the relief of the remaining three witches. Caleb fixed the covers around Pogue once again, making sure the boy didn’t get cold during the night. And despite Reid and Tyler’s keen eyes watching his every move, Caleb bent down to plant a feather-light kiss on Pogue’s forehead. He heard a soft gasp behind him, Tyler no doubt, but appreciated the fact that both of them kept their trap shut. He didn’t think he could have hidden his sentiments from the two boys for too long anyway.

Caleb pushed the greasy locks of hair back from Pogue’s forehead as the other boy slept, his chest rising and falling in a steady, composed synchrony.

“I’ll answer all your questions in the morning,” he whispered, this time for the benefit of Reid and Tyler.

The blond didn’t feel the need to react and the brunet shrugged quite nonchalantly. “I don’t have any.”

“Me neither,” said Reid.

Caleb nodded briefly before turning back to Pogue. “I’ll take first watch.”

Tyler volunteered to go second and Reid last. Not much was expected to happen tonight. This was the old Simms house after all, the one with the world’s safest defense system, allegedly. Nothing should be able to hurt them so long as they stayed in here.

Or so they thought.

The Sons of Ipswich grossly underestimated its will – the will of the One who wanted Pogue so bad, no security systems or protective spells in the universe could possibly keep it away. Especially tonight.

Tonight, it had a big score in mind to settle.


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Tags: fic: covenant: witch riding your back, misc fic

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