No one spoke to him, but he could see that they had left town and were in a wooded area, and the vibe he was getting told him they were headed to the Coven. Coven land would be more problematic, but he doubted he'd get a chance before they reached their destination. They were unlikely to stop anywhere along the way.
The good news was that they were not associated with Norman Niemi, who was human, and Cooper never knew of him working with paranormals, either vampires or shifters. The bad news was they were vampires and had purged the area of all magics, which didn't speak well of his chances of survival if he didn't manage to escape.
The SUV came to a stop, but Cooper couldn't see what was going on, and then it started up again, but slower must be a driveway, he surmised. They drove for quite some distance before slowing down once again, and then he saw it through the side window, a magnificent structure so out of place in this backwood location. It was palatial in its architecture and landscaping and looked like no coven Cooper had ever seen.
The SUV came to a stop, and the two in the front seats got out. It wasn't long before his door opened, and the one who had been on the phone grabbed him by the arm and hauled him out to stand between him and the side of the vehicle.
Cooper was weighing and measuring his chances for escape. He had to make his play before they went inside easier for him to disappear among the outbuildings and garden, plus there was a water feature not far from where he stood that was restored and invigorated. His magic was coming to a head. He had to do it now. He raised his arms and was about to channel the fountain and disappear when he was abruptly grabbed by the wrist, and all momentum and power immediately drained away.
The man gripping his wrist was absorbing his magic, not all of it, but he took what Cooper had gathered from the fountain. "What sort of magic are you?" The man was authoritative, and the way he stared at Cooper had him withering. This was no normal man or vampire. This was the Master, and Cooper felt himself fading under his pressure. Eyes that were black as coal and thick black hair that hung past his shoulders. He wasn't the run-of-the-mill Master. This man was ancient. Cooper's day had just gone from bad to total disaster.
"Just a magic like any other." Cooper felt compelled to say something. Not answering the man seemed unacceptable.
"Not like all others." He countered. "You maintain power even when shackled in iron." He continued to stare at Cooper, who could in no way maintain the fierce power of that stare and dropped his gaze.
"Take him to the cells. We'll deal with him later. We have a more pressing matter at hand." He spoke to one of the men and tossed Cooper at him. The guy took him by the upper arm and started marching him inside. Cooper had lost his last chance for escape, and now he was at their mercy, and it didn't look as if mercy was something that they dealt in.
"Move it along." The guy told him while pulling him inside and then down a marble hallway to an elevator that took him down several floors and then stopped. They exited onto a floor that was lined on both sides with cells. What was different was the magic that Cooper felt in the room. The cells were sealed with magic, and it was specifically for holding magical beings. Fuck, he was never getting out of here.
The guy, a soldier, he assumed, patted him down and took his wallet, change, keys, and phone before putting him in one of the cells and slamming the door. He said nothing, and Cooper didn't bother to try and engage. This guy wasn't going to tell him anything he didn't already know. He would stay there, stuck until the Master decided it was time to deal with him.
Why the hell did he come to this town? He hadn't planned on stopping in Mt Pleasant. He was going further north to lose himself in one of the wilderness areas, but something about this place made him stop. There had been a pull, and he responded to it, and now he was going to pay for not thinking things through clearly.
He sat down on the molded iron bench and wondered why he hadn't sensed trouble sooner. Usually, the vibe of an area hit him as soon as he entered, but not today. He didn't feel anything until he sat eating his lunch, and then it was the absence of magical energy that he felt, and it spooked him, but it was already too late to escape. They were probably tracking him from the moment he exited the highway.
Louis met with Silas, Ira, and Ismael in his office to discuss the rising threat of the Black Prince. Ira had recently returned from California, where he and a team of field agents had investigated the disappearance of Master Leopold's Coven, his agency, and all his holdings. They were gone, people, places, businesses, and homes all gone without a trace apart from the sigil on the torn drive.
Before they got started, he asked Terrance to give a report on the mage that had been captured in town and was now cooling his heels in the subbasement cells. The little man was much more than he appeared, but still, in Louis' estimation, just low-level magic with a few tricks but no power.
"From what we can ascertain, he is alone and traveling alone and not expected to meet anyone. He rented a room for five days at the Greyson Hotel and used magic deception to pay for it. That was how his power and presence came to our attention." Terrance paused for Ismael to comment.
"You apprehended him at the café across the street from the Greyson." He stated, and Terrance nodded. "Did he use his magic to pay for his meal as well?"
“No, he paid the bill with real money and left a generous tip.”
"Willing to stiff the hotel but not a small business or a worker that speaks to his character at least," Ira interjected.
"He still stiffed the hotel five days, and he rented one of the more expensive rooms." Silas reminded.
"Yet, he has his limits, and that's a point in his favor," Ira added.
Master DuCane brought the meeting back to order, and Terrance finished his report and left the room.
"We'll deal with the mage later; right now, we need to understand what's going on in California and if the person responsible for the destruction and disappearances is indeed the Black Prince."
“Yes, sir.” They all responded, and Ismael was the first to speak up.
"Easton, as you know, has been doing a deep dive on the Prince and has discovered no real evidence that he ever died in that London fire. It is possible the man in California is him, but it is also possible that it is an imposter."
“What was the impression you and your team gained from the area?” Louis addressed Ira.
"If he is there, we could not locate him or any dwelling that could possibly belong to him, and we looked far and wide. But with that said, the Black Prince could easily be anywhere he has the skill and the power to hide from any and all detection." Ira regretted not having more to offer.
"His abilities are vast, but if he means to hide, then why leave the sigil at Leopold's?" Silas threw out the question. "He had to know that someone would recognize it."
“Perhaps he was under the impression that no one from his day still walks the earth.” Ismael offered.
“He didn’t expect anyone to remember.” Louis agreed. “And was compelled to mark his work.”
"That does not sound comforting," Ismael added. "Compulsion to mark his work shows pride of accomplishment. He wiped out an entire coven that, according to reports, was quite large and entrenched in the Hollywood culture, not an easy task for sure."