I didn’t miss the subtext. Kyle’s family wanted justice, and they expected me to deliver. Got it.
Kyle’s father was the Director Accountant for the Cabal. That made him a pretty important guy. At his request, Kyle had followed in his footsteps, hanging up his childhood dreams of being a battle mage for a safer line of work in the office. Which made his murder all the more strange.
“Grand Enchanter Gunner will be there as well,” Parker said, glancing over to gauge my reaction.
“Axel’s father,” I said, not really surprised. “What’s he have to say about all this?”
“He’s standing with Director Allen. His son committed the most heinous of crimes, Wyatt. He wants to see justice done.”
“Plus, he never really liked his son,” I replied with a mock grin.
“You shouldn’t speak of the Grand Enchanter like that,” Parker said with a reproachful glare. “The Noble Houses should be respected.”
“I was from a Noble House, Parker. Do you respect me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Guess being a bastard doesn’t count,” I said. “Who else?”
“A few of the Masters, some of their Senior Directors, and the Directors below them. A lot of the folks from the business side. A lot of people you don’t care about.”
“I think you’re starting to catch on. What about my old team?”
“The Kingsnakes?” he asked. “No, they’re assigned to Memphis these days.”
I nodded. That was something positive. I really didn’t want to see them.
“What about the Archmage? He’s not there?”
Parker shook his head. “No, not today. He has other things—”
“More important than this? I thought all four of the Arcane Sages and all the Masters would be engaged.”
“You know how it is.”
“I really don’t.”
After a few more awkward moments of silence, I said, “Do you know what worries me about the Cabal the most?”
“What’s that?” Parker asked.
“The sword chose me.” I glanced over at him. “I’ve met me, Parker. If the sword chose me, what does that say about the rest of the Cabal?”
We finished the drive in silence.
Chapter 3
The compound outside of Branson was one of the biggest in our territory. It looked like a rich dick’s mansion with a four-story corporate office attached to it. A lot of the Noble Families, as they were called, liked to have spare houses near the compound. Given the touristy nature of the area, a lot of the more pretentious types had their own mansions. Both Kyle’s and Axel’s families had huge estates outside Branson and they’d both grown up here, for the most part.
I’d been to the Branson compound a few times as a kid. Being the Blade Mage meant my father had to travel around a lot. When he needed to work out of a specific compound for an extended period, he’d bring us along with him, just so he could see us when he wasn’t out slaying monsters in the middle of the night. When he worked around Branson, I usually stayed at Axel’s house, though.
I grew up around the other children of the Cabal, but my parents never saw fit to spoil us, so I wasn’t a rich tit monster like some of the other purebred brats. Neither were Axel and Kyle. I mean, their parents showered them with gifts, but they didn’t act like spoiled twats. I guess that’s why we became friends.
We stopped in front of the great gates leading into the compound. There was an electronic keypad protected from magic with a number of wards. There was also a decorative stone above it with several sigils as well. On the passenger side was another stone. Parker reached out and placed his hand on it. When he pulled away, the symbol glowed with a white light.
A security guard in the nearby shack hit the release for the gate, allowing us entry. I wondered if my hand would work to open it. Probably not.
There was special reserved parking at the front, meant for the important types. I pulled my old beater between a Jaguar and an Alfa Romero. Both likely cost more than all my worldly possessions combined.
As we got out, Parker paused, staring at me. Then his eyes moved to the truck. “Where’s Drynwyn? You brought the sword, didn’t you?”
“Why? Do you expect ninjas?” I asked, glancing around nervously. “Maybe a dragon?”
He shook his head and turned to lead me inside.
A few guards stood posted by the large double doors. They were dressed in suits like concierges at a five-star hotel, but they wore the scowls of professional security types. Hardcases, armed and ready for anything. And at least one of them was a battle mage. I could sense the energy flowing around him. The others could’ve been mages, Normans, or something else, but there was little doubt they were all dangerous.
Parker Grimm strode up and they stepped aside. One even held open the door for us. Parker really had become Mr. Popular.
He led me inside to a large parlor type room. At least, that’s what I think you’d call it. Being an un-refined ruffian, I’m not sure on the proper word. It was the type of room where a bunch of rich dicks would lounge about and debate which of them was the most important. There were several expensive and uncomfortable-looking chairs and some wider, almost couch things. None of the furniture looked particularly inviting.
There were thirty or so people gathered around. All were dressed to kill in expensive suits or formal dresses and held wine or scotch glasses in their hands. Servants dressed in servanty attire scurried about taking drink orders, while their guests chit-chatted quietly in modest groups.
I recognized a few of them immediately, but if any noticed me, they offered me no more than a passing glance. Perhaps I simply wasn’t worth acknowledging, or perhaps, it was the fact I’d shown up for their fancy dress party in jeans, a faded black t-shirt, and dirty Chucks. Either way, no on seemed fit to acknowledge my existence. To be clear, I’m not complaining. That was how I preferred it. I had no desire to speak to any of them.
“What is this?” I asked Parker. “Some kind of important person meet-and-greet?”
“Something like that,” he agreed. “Since the murder, a lot of higher-ups have been traveling in to give Director Allen their condolences.”
“Ah, I see. A quaint way to tell someone you’re sorry to hear their kid died. How very formal and appropriate. Warms me black little heart.”
“Just try to be civilized,” Parker said, cutting me a hard look. “Pretend you haven’t been living like a hermit and still have a measure of civility.”
“I’ll try,” I said, reaching around to scratch an itch on my back. I’d been wanting to scratch it since we walked in, but I’d been trying to act civilized. His comment was the perfect opportunity I needed to do the exact opposite. It felt nice.
“If it isn’t Wyatt Draven,” a voice said from behind me.
Some voices you never forget. Some voices drip with so much douchebaggery they’re impossible to burn from your memory. I sighed and turned to face him. “Anthony Burns. What a pleasant surprise.”
“That’s ‘Shamus’ Burns,” he corrected me with a smirk made of rubber.
Anthony was someone else I’d grown up around. We were roughly the same age. Unlike Kyle the deceased and Axel the accused, Anthony the douche and I had never been friends. He’d been little more than a school yard bully when we were kids. One of those spoiled rich tits who felt the world was owed to him.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said, vomiting up my own smile. “You were a Shamus the last time I saw you. I’m sure you’ve promoted since then as well.”
He shrugged, feigning a hurt look. “Hey, we can’t all be the Blade Mage.”
I was pretty sure that was his way of telling me I didn’t deserve to be Blade Mage. No surprise there. Even before my dad had passed, people had referred to Anthony as ‘future Blade Mage’ material. For some reason, a lot of people thought he was charming, intelligent, and responsible. A shining example for all the other young wizards to aspire toward.
; Yeah, the ass-hat who thought giving other kids wedgies had grown up to be ‘Blade Mage material.’ Right. I wonder how pissed he was when I was chosen. I wish I could’ve seen his face just then. Anthony Burns was an arrogant, self-serving, asshole. Period. Full Stop. But hey, what do I know?
“Anthony reports to me,” Parker said, meeting my gaze. “He’ll be joining us for the duration of your stay.”
“I get two babysitters?” I said, feigning excitement. “I feel like the prettiest of all the princesses.”
“Yeah, just make sure you stay in line, Blade Mage,” Anthony said, puffing out his chest a little. “It’d be embarrassing if we had to get physical with someone in such a prestigious position.”
“Aww, see that?” I said, glancing over at Parker. “Empty threats from Anthony. Just like when we were kids. Oh, the memories this is bringing back.”
“Director Allen wants a word with you,” Parker said. He ignored my comment but did give his subordinate a reproachful look. I counted it as a victory.
Parker started toward Director Allen and the small horde of people around him. As we got closer, I guessed the majority of them were family. There were also a few faces I recognized as other important people and a small security detail of tough guys dressed in business casual. I wasn’t sure if they were trying to seem inconspicuous, but it was pretty clear they were security.
One of the goons let Parker pass but stepped in front of me, barring the way. He was about my height, but that’s where our similarities ended. He looked like the jock villain from a high school musical. The scowl on his face and the rest of his attire made him look the security guard type, though. He even had the Oakley sunglasses to complete his ensemble.
“Excuse me,” he said, holding a palm up toward my chest. His other hand slid under his suit jacked to the gun on his hip. “Who are you and why are you approaching Director Allen?”
“Seriously?” I said, glancing toward Parker. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed yet.
“Let’s see some identification,” the man said.
The other security guards moved a little closer as well.
“No,” I said, smiling at him. “Not with that attitude. Try it again, but this time say ‘please’ and do it with a friendlier tone.”
I’ve been told I have a problem with authority. That’s not true. I do not have a problem with authority. I have a problem with self-important windbags. Especially ones who try to act tough. Take Anthony Burns for example. He terrorized the other kids growing up. Not me, though. The first time he tried to give me hell, I called his bluff and stuck my fat fist in his fat nose. Ever since then, he’s made little comments but never pushed it. This security guard reminded me of him. He wasn’t just doing his job. He was being a dick.
“Is there a problem?” Parker asked, finally noticing I wasn’t behind him.
The rest of the circle around Director Allen had taken notice as well. As their eyes fell on me, I had to fight the urge to scratch my back again. What the hell was the deal with that itch, anyway?
“Yeah,” the security guard said. “I don’t know who the hell he is, and furthermore, I don’t like his attitude.”
“You don’t have to,” Parker said, fixing the man with a scowl. “That’s the answer to both your questions. Step aside.”
The security guard was actually dumb enough to turn and get in Parker’s face.
“I don’t work for you,” he said.
Ah, now it made sense. Apparently, this was a third-party group the Director had hired, and not the Cabal’s own, because everyone in the Cabal knew who Parker Grimm was. Even if they didn’t, no one, save a higher up, would be dumb enough to speak that way to a Shamus.
“Mr. Reynolds,” Director Allen said. “Please let them through. I’ve asked them to join us.”
“Yes, sir,” the security guard replied over his shoulder, but he stood an extra moment, glaring at me. Then he moved aside and I noticed he had a bit of a strange gait. Must’ve been the stick up his ass.
Joining the circle, I stuck my hand out to Kyle’s father. “Director Allen. I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”
“Wyatt Draven,” he said, taking my hand in his. “It’s been a long time, young man.”
He was in his sixties now, but his grip was still firm, and he hadn’t lost all the color in his hair. A genius with numbers, he oversaw the Cabal’s accounting department. That was a role that required a sharp mind. He’d maintained his family’s prominent position through mathematics rather than magic. Even with the recent loss of his son, he maintained an air of importance and acted professionally, but there was a haunted look in his eye. It was evident the loss weighed heavy on his heart.
It hit me just then. I mean really hit me. It’s strange how that works. When someone you care about passes, it doesn’t always impact you right away. Sometimes you need a catalyst to light the fire. Maybe you see a person or place that makes it sink in. It was like that when my old man died, too. I’d gotten the call, but it never really struck home until that final moment when other Arcane Guardians dissolved his flesh into magical energy and melded what remained of him into the sword.
As I looked into Director Allen’s eyes, I felt a tug on my heart. Kyle was dead. My friend was gone and I would never seen him again.
I tried to maintain professionalism as well, but when the time came to speak, I spoke from the heart instead. “I’m so sorry about Kyle. He was a good friend to me. I’ll miss him dearly.”
“Yes, he was,” Director Allen said, forcing a smile. Then he looked away for a moment.
No one within our immediate vicinity spoke, and I wondered if I’d said something wrong. I never knew what to say or do at times like these. The murmurs of conversation outside our little circle seemed to make the awkward seconds drag on. The itch on my back didn’t help either, and it was almost more than I could bear. It took every ounce of my willpower not to pull up my shirt and go to town.
But it wasn’t an itch, I realized. It was like a lightbulb flicked on in my skull. It wasn’t an itch at all, but rather a tingling. It was Drynwyn, the ancient druidic blade, strapped across my back and veiled so no one else could see it. Why was it tingling? This was new.
I’d had the sword for five years now, and I still didn’t know all its secrets. In fact, I knew very little about it. Shortly after I became the Blade Mage, it had imprinted certain knowledge in my brain. It was rather creepy and intrusive, but it ensured I understood the responsibilities and expectations of the Blade Mage. After that, I’d learned it could take different forms and had a wicked strong veil, way more powerful than anything I could do on my own. Otherwise, it was still a mystery.
Why, in that particular moment, as I tried to converse with the father of my dead friend, surrounded by his family, uptight security guards, and important members of the Cabal, did it feel inclined to tickle my back like a vibrator? I did not know.
Best guess, it was orgasming at being back with the Cabal. This is what it was meant for, after all.
“Kyle was a good man,” Director Allen said, snapping me back to the present. “He always followed the rules and served the Cabal well. I can assure you, he always remembered you fondly.”
An elderly woman standing to the side stepped forward and said, “You were a friend to my grandson?”
“Yes,” I said, turning to meet her attention. I tried to remember if I’d met her before, but couldn’t be sure. I’d met a lot of grandmothers over the years. “We grew up together, Kyle and I. He was a great friend.”
“Yes, he was a good boy,” she said. Her eyes shared the same haunted look as Director Allen and my heart broke for her. To lose a son, or a grandson... I couldn’t fathom it. The loss of my father had nearly broken me. I could only imagine the loss of a child was much worse.
She reached out her hand to take mine, her touch cool and her skin tight. Despite the pain in her eyes, it was clear she, too, was a person of strength. “Thank you for coming to pay your resp
ects, young man. I’m sure my grandson would be glad you’re here.”
“Thank you,” I said, then realized everyone was staring at me.
“This is the Blade Mage,” Director Allen said, his tone not quite approving. “The one we’ve been waiting on to arrive.”
“I see,” the old woman said, her smile only wavering for a moment.
Apparently, they weren’t fans. It was to be expected.
I put on my best smile and said, “Well, I’m terribly sorry for the loss you’ve all suffered. If I can be of any service—”
“I ask only that you see justice done,” Director Allen said, meeting my gaze. The sadness in his eyes transcended into anger. “Do your duty and see that my son is avenged.”
I nodded slowly, unsure how to proceed. “I’m only just in, Director. I still don’t know the details of what happened.”
Another man I recognized stepped forward, physically inserting himself into the conversation. I hadn’t even seen him approach. Grand Enchanter Marius Gunner put a firm hand on my shoulder. Like me, he was one of the Arcane Guardians. One of the Arcane Sages to be precise, and carrier of the Arcane Scepter. When my father had been alive, he’d been second in command to the Archmage. Since his death, Grand Enchanter Gunner had assumed that role. He’d also taken over the military divisions which served under my father. Six of the thirteen Masters, along with their respective Divisions, and the Chief of Business Operations, along with the whole business side of the Cabal, all reported to the Grand Enchanter. Lastly, and perhaps more importantly, he was Axel’s father.
Growing up, he and my father had been best friends. He was a stern and hard man, but he always got the job done. He looked every bit the sharp-witted CEO type, but wore the scowl of a battle hardened general. When he spoke, others listened.
He was physically imposing as well. Most people had to look up at him, and he was built like an NFL linebacker. He always kind of reminded me of Ron Pearlman with his fierce, intelligent gaze and no bull shit attitude.
It’d been years since I’d seen him, but I wasn’t surprised to see his gray hair was still cut short in a military fashion and his silver beard was perfectly kempt. Nor was I surprised to see him wearing a fitted suit that probably cost more than my cabin.
The Blade Mage Page 3