Hollywood: Actor with equipment
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Zoe backed up two steps in terror and grabbed Soren's sleeve. "You—you saw that? Something just ran past us!"
"I saw it," Soren said with a nod.
"We—we should get the hell out of here. This place feels completely wrong."
Zoe's face had gone white.
"Relax. This is probably just the upperclassmen hazing the new girl."
Soren shook her hand off, walked straight to the living-room couch, and dropped down. He even shifted his posture, settling in like he was about to watch a show.
The second they stepped through the door he had felt the hidden presences. The mental essence didn't just give him raw power—it sharpened his senses far beyond anything he'd had before. Everything in the villa was already mapped out in his head. No real threat.
The shadows lurking in the dark realized Soren wasn't scared, so they got bored and turned every nasty prank on poor Zoe instead.
Black figures shrieked and darted through the rooms. Zoe bolted around the villa in blind panic until several of them lunged out and slammed her onto the dining table.
A robed figure in a half-black, half-white bird-beak mask climbed on top of her, curved knife raised high.
"Dark Father, we offer you the blood and life of this pure body."
The knife plunged toward Zoe's chest.
"Let me go!!"
Zoe's scream tore out of her in pure terror. An invisible wave of force exploded outward from her body.
It hurled the robed pranksters off her and snuffed out the fire in the fireplace. Even the candle on the coffee table in front of Soren flickered once and died.
Soren sat back and watched, mildly impressed. No spells. No circles. Just raw power triggered by screaming. Same as Carrie's telekinesis.
The robed figures saw they had actually scared the new girl and dropped the act. They tossed their props and yanked off their hoods and masks.
First came a tall, gorgeous blonde. She flipped her long hair with pure arrogance. "Madison."
Next to her, a chubby Black girl pulled off her hood. "Queenie."
Last was a girl with Down-syndrome features wearing a sweet, slightly creepy smile. "Nan."
Zoe stared at them, still shaking. "You—you're all students here?"
They nodded. She introduced herself in a small voice. "I—I'm Zoe."
Once the quick intros were done, every pair of eyes swung toward the white-haired man lounging on the couch.
Madison swayed her hips over, leaned down, and pressed a hand on his shoulder. "Let me guess why a guy like you walked into a witch academy. Not here to pick up a little girlfriend, are you?"
"I'll guess! I'm the best at reading secrets!"
Madison hadn't even finished before Nan cut her off.
Madison shot the other girl a dirty look.
Nan ignored it completely. She clapped her hands, eyes sparkling, and without asking permission closed them.
Soren leaned back and yawned.
He felt a tiny trickle of psychic energy leaking from Nan. Pathetic. If Fiona's power was an ocean, Nan's was a single drop of dew.
The weak probe drifted toward him.
Nan's lips curved in a triumphant little smile.
In her mind she had never failed at stealing someone's secrets.
The moment her power touched Soren, the world exploded into fire.
She saw a sky the color of old blood. The ground was a carpet of severed limbs and broken bodies. At the end of that hellscape, a pair of abyss-deep eyes stared straight into her soul.
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
Nan's triumphant smile turned into a raw, agonized scream. She slapped both hands over her face and dropped to the floor. Blood streamed between her fingers.
Madison's face went pale. She rushed back to Nan. "Nan! What the hell happened?! Talk to me!"
Queenie dropped to her knees too, trying to pry Nan's hands away.
Soren stayed on the couch, completely calm. He hadn't lifted a finger. The girl had done it to herself.
A few minutes later, with Queenie's steady coaxing, Nan finally lowered her hands. Two bloody tears ran down her cheeks, making her already strange face look even more grotesque.
"Nan—"
Queenie sucked in a sharp breath.
Madison, who had looked worried for half a second, took one look and stepped back in disgust. "I told you not to use that shitty power. Look at you now. You were already a freak and now you're blind too. Perfect little monster."
"What the fuck did you just say?"
Queenie's head snapped up, eyes blazing. "Is this really the time? We're supposed to have each other's backs!"
"Save the sisterhood speech," Madison rolled her eyes, twirling a strand of blonde hair. "She decided to go digging in his head on her own. This is exactly what she earned."
Nan, still on the floor, suddenly spoke in a hoarse rasp.
"Shut up, Madison—"
Her voice was low and dangerous. "I heard everything you were thinking."
"You're only pissed because you're jealous I got to him first. You're scared I'll steal him."
"Right now your head is full of plans to fuck this white-haired guy. You've already picked out the lace panties you're wearing tonight—"
Madison's face flushed crimson. Pure rage took over. She flung her right hand toward Nan. Telekinetic force slammed the girl into the wall with a heavy thud.
Soren watched the whole mess with genuine amusement.
Three women, one hell of a show.
Constantly airing each other's dirty laundry and throwing hands the second someone crossed a line—way more entertaining than any reality show.
He also saw the problem with these young witches. Their power was 100% emotion-driven. No control. No finesse.
"What the hell is going on down here?!"
A sharp female voice cut through the chaos from the second-floor railing.
Soren looked up. A woman in a crisp blouse stood there, glaring at the girls below. She looked about seventy percent like Fiona but carried herself completely differently.
Cordelia. Fiona's daughter. The one who ran the academy whenever her mother was off chasing immortality.
Cordelia hurried downstairs, took in the injured Nan and the trashed living room, and pinched the bridge of her nose like she had seen this exact scene a hundred times.
She didn't even ask who started it.
"Queenie, take Nan to her room. Madison, clean this mess up. Now."
Once the three troublemakers were gone, Cordelia turned to Zoe and Soren.
"I don't know what my mother promised you to bring you here," she said, voice cool and warning. "She's the kind of woman who will do anything to get what she wants. Whatever you have, she needs it badly."
"But I'm telling you right now—don't make any deals with her. Her gifts always come with a price you pay in blood."
Soren met her eyes and gave a small, easy smile.
Most people would have questioned her. He didn't need to.
Fiona was running out of time and chasing every possible way to stay alive. That was why she had dropped him at the door and rushed off. If her latest life-extension scheme failed, she would come for his young, strong body without hesitation.
"Relax, ma'am," Soren said, standing up. "I'm a private detective. I only do fair trades."
"Maybe we can work out something mutually beneficial between us too."