Chapter 183

“Let’s head back,” Winnie said, her voice steady despite the brewing storm of unease. “I’ve got some ideas to mask your gold aura. That should throw him off our trail for a while.”

Drake merely nodded in agreement. He had no reason to doubt her. “Alright.”

Hobson, who had been eavesdropping the entire time, stood there with his jaw nearly hitting the floor. Drake was different from the devil he had heard of.

Drake was the only one among the younger set who had taken the reins of his family so early in life, and with such authority. He was a natural leader, and his peers, even those from the other illustrious families, rarely saw him mingle with them. Only Horace seemed to share any kind of rapport with him.

And Horace, well, he was the golden boy of their generation, no argument there. But Winnie? Why should she be any different? Was it simply because of her so–called talents?

To Hobson, it didn’t add up. After all, given the Patterson family’s status and wealth, they could have their pick of the best consultants and experts. Heck, he knew of several families that kept their own personal supernatural masters on retainer. If Drake really wanted help, he could have a dozen of the best at his beck and call.

Hobson just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Winnie, I know you’ve got some skills, but there are times when you’re better off calling in the big guns,” he said, the concern evident in his voice. “If there’s a creature out there gunning for Mr. Patterson, we should probably get a real expert in here.”

He was genuinely trying to offer sound advice, not out of disbelief in her abilities–he’d seen enough to know she had something real–but out of caution. He knew that if things went south, it wouldn’t just be her neck on the line. It would bring trouble to Mr. Patterson and, by extension, to the Patterson family. That would not be an easy mess to clean up.

Hobson thought he was being helpful, but Winnie wasn’t having any of it. She was about to set him straight when Drake’s icy voice cut through the tension, leaving no room for argument.

“Ms. Bryant is the expert in my view,” he stated, his eyes fixed on her. “I trust her.”

That single sentence silenced Hobson and sent a wave of comfort through Winnie, like a warm embrace. Although she was used to doubt, who could resist such unwavering affirmation?

with a rare brightness as she ignored Hobson and pulled out two pieces of paper from her backpack. They

doll was symmetrical and without a single frayed edge–a sight that offered an odd sense of

with a slight sense of amazement as she brought the tiny paper

11:28

Charter 133

she took with each cut were

Winnie climbed several notches simply because of those two little

chapel was devoid of spiritual energy, it had once been a place of worship, and the ash carried the devout faith of the

her final stroke, the air in the chapel seemed to clear for a moment. When they looked again, the paper dolls, now marked with

Hobson, however, despite having seen Winnie’s capabilities, couldn’t help but gape in

“They’re… alive.”

instinctively reached for Drake, but the latter, anticipating the gesture, stepped aside and approached Winnie

are these?” asked Drake.

our presence as we leave,” she explained, plucking something unseen from Drake’s aura.

quite grasp what it meant. That was until he saw the paper figure radiate a soft golden glow. It was then he began to

she’d

essence and Drake’s. After giving Drake and

knew had just expanded, and

into the backseat of the car, he noticed Winnie was nowhere

casually take

that makes him refuse to let anyone even stand too close to his car if they’re not dressed right,

are

He screamed inside his

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