Modern Pantheon: Ghost

by Grayson Barrett

  Chapter 23

  From the personal log of Special Agent L. Garrison

  Supernatural Investigations Department:

  After presenting my evidence to my department head, Special Agent John Jonas, he completely disregarded the evidence. Furthermore, he threatened to fire me if I didn't drop the investigation into Lance Ruben. As requested, I dropped the official investigation, but am keeping this log to record my findings.

  My current theory is that Lance hired a mage hit man named Paul Ingram (Unemployed. Recently moved in from Vermont. No cell phone.) who is working with the ghost. Now, possibly at Mr. Ruben’s request, though just as likely due to a personal vendetta, Paul Ingram is trying to kill Mr. Amberose.

  Mr. Ingram first came to my attention yesterday, when he drove up to Mr. Amberose's house. He returned to Mr. Amberose’s residence today. On the second visit, he stayed parked in front of Mr. Amberose's house for fifteen seconds before a fire erupted inside. Then, Paul Ingram drove off. Looking back at the Cane Industries bi-annual banquet footage, Mr. Ingram also attended the Cane Industries bi-annual banquet where the ghost appeared and attacked Mr. Amberose.

  I could make out the Minneapolis Cityscape for miles before I’d arrived, illuminated by hundreds random lights. My target, the Cane Industries skyscraper, loomed only slightly higher than other buildings. The building, wider than most, peaked above the rest of the buildings. Luckily, it was late enough in the evening for me to get to where I needed without incident. The clock read after midnight when I turned down the ramp to the underground parking beneath the building.

  The first thing I did upon parking the SUV was to rummage through the rear of the SUV on the off-chance that Bree had a random bag of clothes in my size. She didn’t, so I’d just have to go in, alone wearing nothing but a bathrobe. I was ready for battle, minus a proper outfit.

  The parking lot was mostly empty, except for a few random cars scattered around the spaces nearest to the elevator or staircase. No one was around, so I stepped barefoot onto the slick floor of the underground parking lot, and hurried out to the elevator.

  I stepped into the small room immediately as the door opened. Whereas before I’d taken the elevator in the lobby, which I think must have been typically reserved as the service elevator, I was now in a smaller elevator that only brought me up to the lobby or skyway level. I sighed at the thought of getting in, but hit the second floor button.

  A few moments later, the doors opened into a wide, carpeted hallway. I realized this was the same elevator I’d ridden earlier to get to the parking level, when Ingram and Bree captured me. The skyway stretched out before me, while I could go either left or right into the Cane Industries’ lobby.

  Dead ahead of me, I noted the spot I’d lost Katherine during my chase. I bumped my staff onto the ground and rewrote physics. A small chunk of round metal clambered out of a crack and along the thinly carpeted floor before attaching itself to my staff. I slipped it back onto my finger, feeling slightly less empty. Then, I turned and headed toward the side of the balcony.

  The building’s outer walls were made entirely of blue-tinted glass. The front lobby of Cane Industries took up a majority of the bottom floor. I noticed a security checkpoint in front of the four elevators and a pair of security guards. One looked up at me, while the other casually read a newspaper. I winced a simple realization – in order to talk to Cameron Cane, I’d have to get to his office. I couldn’t call him, since I’d left my stolen phone in my other pair of stolen pants, which were probably incinerated in Bree’s fire. In other words, this had to be done the old fashioned way.

  Paul Ingram was here, too. Possibly, he was here now. I needed to get up there.

  One of the security guards got slowly up, and started heading casually in my direction. The escalators were shut down at this time of night. With an embarrassed look down at myself, I decided to simply try the honest approach. I hurried toward the escalators. The rebel I was, I headed down the upwards one, where I called across wide, empty room. “Excuse me!”

  The man stopped in the lobby as I approached. Limping slightly on my ankle as I went down the stairs in my bare feet, I had to grip the rubbery railing for support. He was a young, man who wore a blue-black uniform similar to that of cops, but not exact, meaning they were simply building security. “Sir, I need to talk with a man named Cameron Cane, right away.”

  The guard looked hardly out of his teens, and bore the honed body of an athlete. With the University so close, I figured this was his night job while he went to classes by day. “You want to speak to Mr. Cane?” he repeated skeptically raising his eyebrows.

  “It’s important,” I assured him.

  “I bet it is,” he said, his hands resting dangerously close to the mace at his belt.

  “Look.” I said. “I’ve got reason to believe his life is in danger. Page him – tell him a man named Thomas Amberose is here to see him. He’ll let me up.”

  “What do I look like?” he asked, as he began walking again. He was obviously holding back a chuckle as he wondered if I were drunk, or simply crazy. “A secretary?”

  Still a bit drowsy from my intense day, I rested most of my weight on my staff and met his eyes. “There have already been two attempts at the lives of members of the Cane family. One was successful. Cameron hired me to protect him, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  “Same story here, pal,” he said, his tone calming as though he were talking to a child, or maybe a drunkard. “If I see anyone suspicious come this way, I’ll be sure to kick him out, too.”

  “I know what this looks like,” I said, holding my free hand up. “Just hold on and we’ll–”

  Then, I saw a man who seemed straight out of a horror movie standing in the glass behind the security guard. This man’s short hair was greasy and tangled. Although clearly Caucasian, he had enough grease on his skin to hide that fact. He only had one eyebrow, but the worst part was that a bathrobe that went just a few inches below his knees. It was held shut by nothing but a thin strap. Barefoot, and holding a walking stick as tall as he was, the man was truly a monster.

  This man, I noted regretfully, was me. Or my reflection, to be exact. His grotesquely grimy face looked back at me from the clean window. It was no wonder they’d mistake me for a threat. Hell, if I saw me, I’d arrest me without a second thought.

  “Changed my mind,” I said, my hand still held toward him as I took a step back. “My car is parked underground. I’m sure you guys don’t want any trouble, so I’ll just see myself out.”

  The leading guard rested his hand on his belt, thinking it through for a second. I backed away toward the escalator as he looked questioningly toward the other guard. Before they had a chance to question my motives otherwise, I backed myself into the stairwell.

  Great, I thought. I’ve come this far, only to be stopped by college-boy.

  At least he didn’t follow me. He said a brief word into the radio clipped to his belt, but left it at that.

  I needed a new plan, which came to me very easily. I simply headed to the same stairwell I’d taken earlier. The one I’d chased Katherine down.

  It fit my needs perfectly, for it reached all the way to the top floor. Sure, it was locked, but I’d already seen that the far side of the door had a push bar. I hurried up the blocked of stairwell, getting jitters at the thought of duking it out with Ingram.

  My enthusiasm faded the moment I realized what I had to do. I stepped into the drab, gray staircase and peered up the center. It stretched all the way to the top. Fifty-eight floors of torturous stairs. It wasn’t enough to get caught in two separate fires. It wasn’t enough to lose my house to a blaze of its own. It wasn’t enough to get slugged by the world’s most hideously muscled battle-mage. No, this day had to end with torture via stairs. Perfect.

  Putting my good foot forward, I began the first step up the long, horrible journey.

  At floor fifteen, my lungs burned. At floor thirty, my knees fel
t like gel. By forty-five, my chest began open rebellion. The blood cells that ran through them were each armed with torches and pitchforks. Still, I pushed myself onward, determined to get to the top as soon as possible.

  On forty-six, I took a brief, two minute break. It didn’t help, so I kept going.

  The uppermost floor was the Cane Ballroom, which I figured to be empty. If I were a big, bad CEO of a massive corporation, where would my office be? The highest place possible, obviously.

  Therefore, I went to the one right below it. Floor fifty-seven.

  Wiping a bit of sweat off my forehead, I massaged my thighs and shins for another few seconds filling my hand with inky soot as I did. I was exhausted, but at least my journey was near its end.

  I figured there might be alarms, so I muttered a quick spell to deactivate electronics around the door. Then, with the jitters back in my stomach, I cloned my staff, making one appear behind the door, and pulled. The push-bar compressed and it opened. I’d hoped I’d be able to meet Ingram’s target – Daniel, probably – alone in his office. Bree said Ingram and the guys in charge of Cane Industries would be here. After taking all those stairs, she’d better be right. It wasn’t unusual for the Imperium to act by night, as not to draw attention.

  Before waltzing in, I peered through the crack in the door and felt immediately surprised at how nice the place appeared. Thick, gray carpet bathed the ground on the wide-open hallways. Upon taking my first step inside, my bare foot was bathed in its satisfying plush. I almost felt bad that the soot from my feet were soiling it. The walls of the hallway in front of me were sunlit-cloud gray. I found it a bit strange how they seemed to just end where the elevators were. But after a moment of thought, I realized it was probably to give more space for the offices. With the walls of Cane Headquarters being nothing but glass, an office with a wall-window would be the next best thing to a job in the clouds.

  Farther down, the hallway parted in the middle of the building – I couldn’t be sure from my single viewpoint, but it seemed the building, or this part of it anyway, was broken up in a giant cross shape. I’d come out at the bottom of this cross, with the hallway shooting directly forward. Between this wall and the far one, a perpendicular hallway cut through. In the center of the cross, walls expanded out diagonally to make a large, diamond shaped sitting room.

  “I, err...” a chatty, nervous voice stammered. “Are you sure that I... err...”

  I pulled my head back in and listened from behind the door, leaving it open just a crack.

  Cameron’s calm voice cut the man off, “You okay?”

  “Oh, fine. Fine,” the other, who I figured to be the always-nervous Daniel Cane, said. “It’s just that... Oh, never mind.”

  “It’s okay.” Cameron said. “We’re family. What’s on your mind?”

  The nervous man said, “It’s just that I didn’t like it when I thought this would be a lot of bureaucratic stuff, but and now there’s this whole magery business, too. This was the kind of stuff Emmitt used to handle.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cameron said. “I’ve got your back.”

  “Yes, yes. I know.”

  Firstly, I sighed in relief at hearing Cameron’s voice. It implied he was still alive, which was the whole point in my visit in the first place.

  Secondly: Magery business? Interesting. So does this mean that Ingram had come and gone already? Had he spoken with them civilly? Or had Cameron caught on and taken out Ingram for me?

  Right. Like something that convenient would happen on the same day that I’d burned off an eyebrow.

  But then, I pondered, why was Cameron alive? From what I could tell, Ingram was after Cane blood. A one-on-one meeting was simply a perfect opportunity to get it. Assuming he didn’t tell the Imperium about this meeting, he could have killed them both and simply left a free man.

  Well, Cameron is alive. Mission accomplished, I guess. I debated leaving, but couldn’t bring myself to just go. There was something more going on.

  Maybe it wasn’t Ingram that had come. Lara, maybe?

  Of course! If anyone was smart enough to determine the identity of the killer, it was Lara. She might have even pieced it together before I did, and just waltzed in to tell Cameron the truth.

  Excited at thought of seeing her jolted me into action – I pulled the staff and the door opened. “Cameron?”

  As I walked down the hallway, Cameron walked into the seating area. His eyes widened slightly. For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of fear, but it passed quickly. “Thomas?”

  “Y–you? I–” Daniel stammered.

  “I thought you were caught by the Guardians.” Cameron said timidly. “You’re okay?”

  “I’m great,” I said, walking closer.

  “You escaped?” he said, as he motioned me inside. Cameron wore a suit that completely clashed with Daniel’s tan one. Cameron’s was black, with a maroon shirt underneath. He didn’t wear a tie or an undershirt, yet what would be casual was a sort of powerfully arrogant on him. His face was unreadable underneath his wavy hair, but still, it was somehow different than when we’d first met. The only way I can think to describe him is that he looked older. More mature, somehow.

  “You could say that,” I replied. “Bree realized I wasn’t the right guy.”

  “Daniel, go into my office and get Thomas a set of my clothes.” He said, before turning to me. “You want something to drink?”

  Silence filled the hallway as I approached. I was still panting from the stairs, so Cameron motioned toward the couch the moment I crossed into the diamond lobby.

  “I’d kill for some water,” I said honestly. “Where’s Lara?”

  He gave a small shrug. “Haven’t seen her.”

  The excitement dropped, leaving unease in its place. “Sorry about sneaking around. I deactivated the alarms because I thought you might be in danger. With so much going on, I didn’t want to draw much attention. Plus, you know,” I gestured down to myself.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He held out a hand to the couch in the middle of the sitting area. I walked deeper into the room, my sense of dread growing with each step.

  White leather couches sat in an octagonal shape. Two sides were open to allow people to walk in and sit. The rebellion running up and down my legs was still in full swing, but out of politeness I decided not to sit. I was, after all, the next best thing to a chimney with all the ash on me.

  There was a small bar along one wall, and Cameron went there, pulled out a whiskey glass, and put bottled water into it. He filled it up with his back to me.

  Tentatively, I asked, “Did you speak to the Guardians?”

  “Paul Ingram was here a few minutes ago.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “We had a short chat,” he said idly. “He had a few questions to ask me. Why?”

  “He, err...” Careful, Thomas. My instincts had undergone strict training in the past few days from all my near-death encounters. Now, the warnings screamed at full volume. The plump, leather couch looked heavenly, but I didn’t give myself the luxury. “I learned a few things.”

  Cameron nodded as he approached, handing me the water. I shifted my staff to my empty hand and took the glass with my ringed hand. I examined the transparent liquid, trying my best not to look skeptical. The water looked clear and unfogged. I tried to throw a wave of my power into the water, but it failed.

  “This distilled?”

  He nodded over a sip of a drink he’d prepared for himself – a high-end whiskey, from the looks of it.

  In order to affect something, you have to know, among other things, its chemical structure. Water’s chemical compound, as every schoolboy knows, contains two hydrogen molecules and one oxygen. In spell-work there was marginal room for error for most things, especially when you expect impurities. Yet since I couldn’t throw even a bit of magic into this cup, I knew right away that the compound could be anything except H2O. In other words, it was drugged. “Did I com
e up?” he asked.

  “He told me that he caught you.”

  “And?”

  He shrugged without comment.

  “Sorry I had to break in,” I said. “But I found out that the killer is Paul Ingram. He’s the one who summoned the ghost.”

  “Ingram,” he said, looking into his glass and swirling the contents. The ice tinkled against the side as he did. “You’re sure?”

  “Daniel caught Kelly Freidman cheating on her husband, James. Emmitt used what little magic he knew to kill her, but failed. Kelly Freidman ran to the Guardians. She told Ingram that a ghost attacked, and he was able to recreate the spell. He used it to kill Emmitt Cane.”

  “So it was Ingram?” he said, skeptically. “Why?”

  “Ingram had opportunity at every crime scene. He knew the spell when no one else did. When we were at the dinner, Ingram summoned the ghost to kill Daniel because I was there. He hoped to accuse me, but you saw I practically jumped in front of the bullet to save him. When we ran, I thought the ghost was sentient, remember? It wasn’t – Ingram kept it focused on me when I told it to go away.”

  “But why kill Emmitt?”

  That was the one answer I didn’t have. I pushed my mind hard to find the answer.

  It had to be Ingram. He was the only one that made any sort of sense. But as far as I could tell, Ingram and Emmitt never even spoke. Ingram never met any of the Canes before tonight. Why would Ingram risk everything to kill Emmitt?

  Because the Imperium probably wanted Emmitt Cane dead anyway? Because they knew Emmitt was an unregistered caster, perhaps?

  Nope. They’d go in by official means at even a suspicion. Maybe the Imperium found out Emmitt was working with the Venir?

  Nope. Not that either, for the same reason. The Imperium wouldn’t go behind Bree’s back.

  Then, a horrifying thought, born of paranoia flashed to mind. What if this was all just to pin something on me? Take out one unregistered caster, and pin the blame on an untrustworthy, ex-guardian, battle-mage like me. Plus, it fits in excellently with the Imperium’s style.

  “And the wedding ring?” Cameron added.

  “Wedding ring?”

  “Kelly’s ring was found in the ruins of your house. Police overlooked it, but James Freidman’s found it.”

  “Err,” I thought quickly. “So what? Ingram was in my house a few days ago. Hell – the guy knocked over a few of my books. He probably did it for a chance to slip the ring under my couch or something when I wasn’t paying attention. Besides, I was the one that told James to track her ring in the first place. Why would I do that if I knew it would point to me?”

  “I’ve seen you summon the ghost with my own eyes, Thomas. Forgive my paranoia, but I’d feel a lot more at ease if you drop your staff and ring.”

  “Cameron, I’m not the one on trial,” The words bit out of my mouth with more malice than I’d ever thought could come from my lips. I tilted my staff forward. “You want answers, I’ll give them. But if you think I’m a murderer, you’re wrong.”

  Reaching coolly into the inside of his jacket, he pulled a small pistol and aimed toward me. “Sorry, Thomas, but I don’t feel like taking chances. If I see a ghost or anything weird, I’ll shoot.”

  The two of us stood, completely still. He with his arm cocked at his side and me with my staff held in front of me. Dropping the glass, I held out my free hand in an innocent gesture, drawing power into my ring. “You want proof? Take a look at Bree Porter. It’s probably already on the news. I just blew her roof sky high because Ingram set a trap for us. The only way I got out was to make my own exit. Bree will tell you everything. Just get to her before Ingram does.”

  A door down one hallway opened, and a quick glance showed what I expected. The suit Daniel had looked my size, more or less, but happened to be worn by a cop-faced security guard. His boxy chin alone could probably knock me out, but if I had to guess, he’d do all his damage with the gun in his hand.

  Emotions of all kind came to me in a rush. I’d come here to save a life. Now, even my client turned on me. I thought of my house, now a charred ruin. Everything I owned was gone burned up in that fire. Every part of my ill-clad body hurt in multiple ways. I was low on sleep, and even if I did get out of this mess, chances were good I’d go to jail, of one kind or another.

  Fine. You want a fight? What more have I got to lose?

  “Thomas, I trust you.” Cameron said calmly. “I really do. And if you’re telling me the truth, we’ll catch this guy. But if you’re not, then you’re a threat to both me and to Cane Industries.”

  The anger swelled up inside me. The whole time I tried to follow everyone’s rules. The whole time, I’ve tried to help these people. Now, they’d deemed me an outlaw. Maybe it’s time I start acting the part. “Tell me where Ingram is and let me go. Otherwise...”

  I tilted my staff forward another few inches. Down the left hallway, I saw Daniel peeking his balding head out of a doorway, shaking visibly as he bit his lip.

  Another security guard came down the right hallway and stopped ten feet to Cameron’s side. The other, who stood at my left, took slow, careful steps toward my back.

  I leapt to the side, muttering a spell. The power in my ring expanded outwards with an audible hiss.

  Electricity magic wasn’t my specialty, but I make a point to learn a few simple spells for all occasions. Besides, simple doesn’t necessarily mean weak. A bash on the head hurts, even when coming from a caveman’s club.

  I pumped the room with energy, and every light simply died when an EMP pulse flared into them.

  Suddenly blind, like everyone else, I refocused attention to my staff. Willing the mass in the core to move toward the other guard, I twisted the one I held, and its clone did the same. When it nudged against something close to the ground, I yanked the staff forward and up, throwing all my weight on it.

  A few feet away, the clone staff caught the guard’s ankle and swooped upwards, knocking him harshly onto his side.

  Throwing myself forward, I swung the staff horizontally and refocused its clone to the other guards’ approximate location. I may have been across the room, but I still felt the staff thunk into him. The meaty crunch preceded an even louder thud.

  Two down. One to go.

  “Cameron, you really don’t want to mess with a mage.”

  Just in case, I shuffled quickly after I said that, but he didn’t shoot.

  Draped in total darkness, I listened for his movements. Just to throw him off, I shifted my spirit staff and swung. Across the room, the bottles of liquor shattered, spraying various alcohols across the room.

  I didn’t hear him. The darkness was thick in the pungent air. No longer caring much how exactly I’d get out of this, I quickened my pace toward the door as I felt my shoulder nudge his elbow.

  We both spun, simultaneously panicked. My mind entirely on his gun, I thrust the real staff jauntily at him and grasped toward him as I drew power into my ring.

  Finally, something had gone my way. As my hand grew cold, my ring flooded the room with golden light. I saw my own hand clutched tightly around his wrist. The gun faced directly away from me. Somehow, my staff strike had spun him around without actually hurting him. Cameron’s back was against the wall, and I held the shaft horizontal across his throat with one hand.

  Realizing defeat, he took his finger off the trigger and let me take it away without a fight. I slipped it into the oversized pocket of my robe.

  “Where is Ingram,” I said, my face menacingly close to his.

  He swallowed. I felt his Adam's apple push gently on the staff as he did.

  “I don’t know,” he said coolly. “Thomas, if you’re behind this, you’ll have the entirety of Cane Industries ready to take you down.”

  “Bring it,” I hissed into his face. I’d only knocked over the first guard, and he was getting back up. I spun Cameron, holding him in front of me.

  “But if you’re not...” Cameron cont
inued. “I can tell you that Emmitt Cane never was the intended target. The killer sent the ghost after Lance Ruben.”

  The guard kept his gun half raised, but didn’t dare point it at his boss’s boss. I could see the terrified way his eye twinkled at the sight of my luminous ring.

  Gritting my teeth, I decided to end this now, before more goons showed up. Who knows how many more Daniel could have running? I drew in more power to my ring, simultaneously clamping my eyes shut.

  My arm went numb to the elbow as my very bones seemed to freeze, but it was worth it. I closed my eyes just as the equivalent of a flash grenade blazed from my ring. I spun as the light faded and dashed toward the exit. I didn’t know where I’d go from there, but at least I was away from the guns.

  I stepped through the door and sprinted down the stairs. Rushing only a few floors down, I knew my legs weren’t up for another fifty floors. I briefly wished a spell for flying existed, or one for turning the stairs into a giant fun slide. I went out and took the elevator. Sure, it was a risk, but I somehow didn’t think Cameron thought of me as the enemy. It’s not a bet I’d usually take, but at the moment my health couldn’t take it.

  The elevator arrived without incident. Wiping the tension out of my face as the elevator descended, I watched the number lower with an uneasy anticipation. The back of the elevator was glass and the ground grew larger and larger as I descended back into the city. In my reflection, I could see my ugly self shudder with exhilaration. That wasn’t the first time people had chased after me, yet I’ve never been so utterly alone before. The emptiness made the ride unbearable, and I realized I’d just end up at the security checkpoint.

  I quickly slapped the three button, as that was the lowest floor other than the lobby. With any luck, it’d be unguarded.

  You’re fine, Thomas. Get your mind back to the present.

  Lance was the target? How would Cameron know that? Could his message have been some kind of lie? A trick to throw me off, or worse – lure me into a trap?

  No, I figured. He was telling the truth. If I were the killer, I’d know who my intended victim was. Cameron probably realized that the information he offered wouldn’t backfire on him if I were the killer, and would only aid me if I weren’t.

  The elevator door opened to a deserted third floor. From there, I begrudgingly took the staircase to B1. Within minutes, I scurried back to the garage to Bree’s black SUV. It was unguarded, just the way I left it. Perfect.

  I hurried inside the SUV and drove.

  Damn! Why hadn’t you taken his phone? You could be talking to Lara. Hell, Cam might even have Lance on his speed dial.

  Rushing out the exit, I shook my head. I should have at least taken his cash. As much as I’d hate to stoop that low, I’d hate to have to do this in nothing but a battered robe.

  Accelerating out of the city, I picked my destination. Lance Ruben’s nightclub, the Divination. I didn’t want to go there now any more than I wanted to go the first time, but at the very least, Lance deserved a warning. Traffic was light, and the night was clear. The moon peaked ominously overhead.

  The end of this was near.

  As I drove, I thought about what Cameron told me. It took me a minute or two to realize it, but if he was telling the truth, than everything finally made sense. Every last bit of information found its rightful place. Emmitt. Lance. Kelly. Ingram. They all had their place, and now I could see it.

  I realized Lance hired James for security. Possibly, that included a few protection spells. It’d take a fair amount of deception and manipulation, but I’m sure Lance could arrange for a spell to protect him at the cost of another. That unlucky man was CEO, Emmitt Cane.

  It made sense now. Lance knew the truth right off the bat. That explains why he’d recruit my help. It explained why he wouldn’t go to the Guardians. I was his Hail Mary. His last and only resource.

  Maybe it was Karma. Maybe it was Coincidence. But when Emmitt Cane used the ghost and took the life of Jackson, he set off a chain of events that would lead Ingram to attempt a murder on Lance. I didn’t know why Ingram wanted Lance dead, but I knew that’s how it happened. That murder would fail, killing Emmitt Cane instead.

  Perhaps, I considered, Ingram worked for the Imperium. Perhaps he was under some delusion that this self-imposed mission would advance his lagging career. Either way, the Imperium in charge had only one choice. They’d say Ingram was working of his own accord, for his own selfish reasons. Once I had proof, they’d make Ingram the scapegoat.

  Finally, the Imperium’s corruption works in my favor.

  Unless, I speculated, Ingram pulls off the killing. An organization without a head is a lot less of a threat, and no one likes the Venir. Lance arrived on Earth from a foreign dimension a decade ago. No one knows exactly how Lance became so rich and powerful, but he’s already one of the riches people in the state. Maybe I’m blowing this out of proportion. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but if I were Ingram, I’d figure the only chance I have is to ensure the death of Lance Ruben. With all the focus on the remains of the Venir, it’d make enough of a mess to throw the Imperium into a frenzy that would last just long enough for him to flee the country.

  I drove finally hopeful that I might finally have a future.

  What a day, I thought as the robe shuffled uncomfortably high. It seems as though the world was running some cosmic joke in which it is determined to see me in go around, doing battle in nothing but a robe.

  A smile flicked to my face as I realized the reason.

  I came dressed in the style of a true wizard.