by Aaron Crash
“Are you sure you can’t find Whipp using your magic?” Mulk asked the Magician in the back seat.
The pale, gaunt man with his colorless gray eyes shook his head. He stank. He was sick. He was a sadist. However, Gideon could do things no other Magician could.
Mulk growled and pushed out of the car and walked up to the house. He wore his favorite silk suit and a wool overcoat, so he was warm in the chilly spring morning.
He knocked on the door. No answer. He could hear the woman, Florence Whipp, in the kitchen. Why wasn’t she answering her door? Was she deaf?
That name, Florence Whipp, seemed familiar, but Mulk shrugged off the feeling. It didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. And once he killed her son, he wouldn’t matter.
Mulk rang the doorbell.
From inside, the woman’s voice carried through the door. “Stop. Stop. I don’t want to buy anything. Go away.”
Triggering DarkArmor, Mulk transformed his right arm into a powerful, scaled claw. He drove the armored limb into the door, flinging it open. He stormed inside but not before changing his arm back. “Believe me, I am not selling anything, but I have come here to offer you a gift.”
The woman didn’t scream, didn’t run, but merely turned from the sink to dry her hands off with a purple plaid hand towel. “Well, now, aren’t you the impatient one?”
Florence Whipp was a thick woman with wild hair a variety of colors: blonde, the red of a dye, and the gray of age. Her jawline drooped, and crow’s feet collected around her eyes. Her hands were red and thick-knuckled, a worker’s hands. She wore the drab beige of a custodian. But she had clear, bright blue eyes.
She walked from the kitchen and into the living room. “You here to collect on some gambling debt my worthless husband promised you?”
Mulk shook his head.
Florence grimaced. “Oh, so it’s my son. I knew he was keeping secrets from me. He’s in trouble, clearly, dealing with a man like you.”
Mulk felt himself caught off guard. Why wasn’t she quaking with fear? Why weren’t there fucking tears?
“So Steven has told you about me?” Mulk asked.
“No. You want coffee?” the woman asked. “I have some. I put a little cinnamon in the pot to spice it up. I like it. You might not.”
Mulk found himself agreeing. “Sure. I’ll try your coffee.”
She poured him a cup, crossed the room, and gave it to him. “I won’t invite you in. I mean, I didn’t. And I want money for fixing my damn door.”
Something was off with her, some kind of mental illness maybe, Mulk wasn’t sure. He took the coffee and sipped it. It was cheap. But, begrudgingly, he had to admit the cinnamon did add a certain charm.
“You want to give me a gift, fine, give me money for my door,” the woman demanded. “But first, I suppose you want to get tough, threaten me, or swear you’ll kill me, Steven, my entire family. Is that about right?”
She leaned against the entryway into the kitchen. “I’m waiting.”
Mulk found himself reaching for his wallet. Then he remembered his power and his position. “You’ll get nothing. My gift to you is your life. Tell me where your son is and I will let you live.”
Florence rolled her eyes, walked past him, and collected her coat and purse off the back of a sofa. She then walked out onto the small bit of concrete that made up her front porch. She turned and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, if you want to kill me, kill me out front.”
Through the doorway, Mulk saw a man walking a schnauzer on a leash. “Hey, Ed,” Florence said.
The man, Ed, raised a hand. “Hey, Flo.”
Mulk laughed softly to himself. This whole situation was ridiculous. She thought she could save herself with a man and his dog. The Dragonsoul Prime moved to stand next to her. “Clever. With witnesses, you think you’re safe.”
She sighed. “Look, I was married to a gambler for over ten years ... actually, I’m still married to him, though he took off and left me. Do you think you’re the first dirtbag to come around to threaten me? Hardly. I don’t know where Steven is. His apartment burned down, and he came into some money, and he’s been living all over as far as I can tell. He’s not here. I have his cell phone number, but I’m not going to give you that. And if you want to kill me, get it over with. I have life insurance through my job. He’ll be taken care of.”
Mulk reached out and touched her wild hair. “What if I don’t kill you? What if I just hurt you?”
That bravery melted a bit and she paled. Fear clouded her eyes, but then she burned that away. “I’m fifty years old. Life has hurt me already and done it far better than you ever could. I want you to leave Steven alone. I want you to leave me alone. Or do what you’re gonna do.”
Mulk dropped his hand and sipped his coffee. It was bitter, cheap, worthless. He dropped the mug and it shattered on the concrete. “You mentioned something about kidnapping. I believe that is my next course of action. You are certainly a surprise, Mrs. Whipp. And living the life I do, I don’t like surprises. Your son will come to rescue you. And I will kill him. It is beneath me, but I will play the cards I’ve been given.”
“You don’t play your cards, you play the other players,” Florence said sharply. And yet that fear was back in her eyes. Mulk liked it there.
From the side of the house, a voice he knew well said evenly, “Rhaegen, we both know that nothing is beneath you.”
Out strutted Mouse dressed in a thick parka and tights. She wore no shoes. Her face was bruised and there was an awful wound on her neck, bandaged, but even with the bandages, he could tell it was infected. Her hair clung limply to her head. In her gashed-up right hand she gripped the Slayer Blade.
“Hello, Melissa,” Rhaegen said. “Gideon said you managed to escape him and the others during the battle. Your father did well in teaching you the fine art of explosives.”
“My father taught me a lot of things,” she said. “And I’m not Melissa. I’m Mouse. I’ve come to offer you a deal.”
With Mulk distracted, Florence walked off the porch. “Well, you two seem to have a lot to talk about. And I have to get to work. Close the door when you leave. The lock is busted, but we have to keep up appearances, now don’t we?”
“Don’t come back here,” Mouse said to the woman. “It’s not safe.”
Florence laughed. “I know that now. I have a place I can go. I’ve not been safe, ever. That’s what happens when you marry a gambler. Joe was a bad egg, but he did get me set up in case bad men came around.” She paused. “Nice sword.”
“Thanks,” Mouse murmured.
Neighbors were coming out of the houses now, to watch the drama.
Mulk growled. It had all come undone, and dammit, it should’ve been a simple thing to intimidate a human woman, but he was learning that nothing was easy when it came to Steven Whipp.
Judith had left the Escalade and she stood next the vehicle, waiting to see what he would do, her face a cool mask of neutrality.
They couldn’t fight here, not with such an audience, no matter how plain the humans were. He could’ve had Gideon wipe their minds, of course, but what if he missed just one? Surely there were hidden eyes peering at them from inside the houses. It was too risky. And in the end, unnecessary.
Florence opened her garage door and drove off, going a little too fast.
So Mulk had gotten to her after all. Good.
Now, to deal with his ex-wife. “Very well, Mouse. What is the deal you propose?”
Mouse limped across the driveway and up onto the porch. She was weak and weaving. And yet, he knew her skill with the sword. She looked like a trapped animal. If pressed, she would fight like one.
“Give up trying to kill Steven,” Mouse said. “He has no interest in usurping your Primacy. If you promise to leave him alone, I’ll come back to you.”
Mulk laughed. “You were never very important to me or my realm. I don’t want you back. Somehow, you destroyed the ring that bound you to me. We are
divorced. You are disgraced.”
Mouse laughed. “Yeah, that’s all true all right. Divorced and disgraced, that’s me. But I don’t have parents anymore that would care. They’re dead. And I’m alone. Yeah, you got me, Rhaegen. However, I have information on the Rocky Mountain Primacy. I grew up there. I know how it works. You let Steven go free, and I’ll help you take over another Primacy.”
That made Mulk pause. Everyone had thought Cassius Pine, the current Prime of the Rocky Mountain Primacy, was a Ronin with no aspirations of power. Cornelius Craygore, Mouse’s father, had paid the price. Now Cassius was in power and Craygore was dead, along with a good number of his Escort, including Mouse’s mother.
“It’s an interesting offer,” Mulk said. “Surely you would love to avenge your parents. You would want to kill Cassius yourself, wouldn’t you?”
“You know it,” Mouse hissed. “But you have to swear on the soul of your father to let Steven be. No assassins. No power plays. Nothing. Do we have a deal?”
“Let us ponder this situation for a moment.” Mulk folded his arms across his chest. “Steven Whipp came into his power not two weeks ago. In that time, he stole one of my wives, he destroyed one of my Aeries, and he murdered one of my most promising vassals. He has eluded my efforts to kill him since and even escaped my Terror Trio. His power makes Cassius look like a pup. Whipp might not want my Primacy now, but in the future? No.” He shook his head slowly. “He must die. There is no other way. No deal to be made.”
He struck, darting forward like a striking cobra, using SerpentGrace to latch onto Mouse’s sword arm. He gripped her wrist until the Slayer Blade dropped into the coffee and mug shards on the concrete porch.
“Magica Defensio!” Mouse screamed and sent an amber-colored energy field into him. It struck him in the face, bloodying his nose.
Fucking magic. Mulk hated magic.
A black SUV with a decal on the side roared up the street and onto the lawn. The brakes squealed as the tires ripped into the dead lawn.
Two huge men in suits leapt from the SUV.
Mulk could read the decal now, Magnox Securities. It was a local security company the Denver elite used to protect themselves. Most likely, the two brawny men were ex-special forces, dangerous to humans, but only an annoyance to Mulk.
“Back off, asshole,” one of them growled.
Mouse picked up the sword and ran from the house. She darted around the side, disappearing from view.
The crowd of neighbors pressed forward. Most had their phones out. They’d be calling the police for sure—that or recording the incident with their blasted cameras. The odd collection of apes stood around, mouths gaping. They were afraid, they were angry, but they weren’t about to make the first move. Still, he couldn’t afford to be outed, and even one video recording could ruin everything. He was powerful, true, but the combined might of the Dragon Conclave was something even he dared not challenge. He would need to be subtle, and no killing. That would raise too many red flags.
Mulk growled, sped from the porch, and drove a fist into the gut of one of the Magnox Securities men. He doubled the man over with ease. The other one snapped out a collapsible rod and swung at Mulk. Mulk raised an arm, imbued with DarkArmor, and the metal bent around it. He drove his elbow into his attacker’s face, dropping him.
In seconds, the men were on the ground, gasping in pain. Mulk kicked them both for good measure.
The neighbors went off wailing, shocked at the violence. Such monkeys.
Mulk marched back to the Escalade. Judith had slid in behind the wheel, so Mulk stepped into the passenger seat.
They drove off.
“The Whipp bitch works at the airport,” Gideon muttered. “We could get to her there.”
Mulk shook his head. “No. I don’t want to deal with any more humans today. We are going to break the magic guarding Whipp. We will find him. We will kill him.”
The cruel Magician chuckled. “I will need Animus for that. I will need to feed. Can you give me a dozen souls?”
“I want you to be fully satiated and at your best,” Mulk said. “I will give you two dozen. We have humans in the FCI waiting for your hunger, Gideon. There will be a prison riot today. And you will get what you need.”
Gideon squealed in delight.
Mulk smiled at that. He liked to make his vassals happy. If only he could feed Florence Whipp to his Magician.
Something about her, about the name of her husband, Joe, tickled the back of his mind. There was a clue there, but what was it?
Who was this Steven Whipp really?
Mulk knew that if he found the answer to that question, he would find the solution to all of his current problems.
“I might not be able to find Whipp,” Gideon said, “but I can track Mouse. If she goes to him, I will know.”
“Then I’ll kill that bitch,” Judith spat.
“And it’ll turn me on so much to watch you do it.” Mulk chuckled.
STEVEN WOKE IN THE loft of the Coffee Clutch. Aria and Tessa were curled up next to him. He lay there, smelling the coffee brewing below and listening to the hustle and bustle of a busy morning at the coffee shop.
Mouse’s text had been simple. I’M ALIVE. I’M WORKING ON FIXING THINGS. KEEP MOVING. STAY ALIVE. LOVE, MOUSE.
He couldn’t believe she was alive, and yet, he was worried about her. What was she trying to do? How could she fix things? He imagined she was wounded and alone, but if Mouse was anything, she was a survivor.
The news must’ve reported on the dead female Dragonsoul that Tessa had shot. Their description, though, had been of a petite blonde woman. It had been a simple, dreadful mistake.
Tessa’s phone buzzed.
Steven was out of the bed in seconds. He picked up the phone. Another text from Mouse. It was eight o’clock in the morning.
YOU THERE?
Steven texted back. YEAH. THIS IS STEVEN. ARE YOU OKAY?
Mouse: NOT REALLY. BUT I’M STILL BREATHING. MULK WENT FOR YOUR MOTHER. I WAS THERE. SHE GOT AWAY.
A sick fear invaded Steven. Dammit. Then relief swept the fear away. His mom was safe ... for now. He’d have to call Bud and let him know. Was Tessa’s family okay?
Steven hit the call button, and Mouse picked up. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
She told him what had happened.
“Do you think Mulk knows about Tessa and her family?” Steven asked. “Do you think he’ll go for her?”
“I’m not sure.” Mouse’s voice sounded so weak.
Tessa called from the bed, “Steven, is that Mouse?”
He nodded. Then to Mouse, “Listen, we have to find Liam Strider. Would you know where he is?”
“Nebraska. Somewhere,” Mouse answered. “I can’t talk. I have to go. I’m not feeling ... I know a guy ... I just have to go. But watch out for Strider. He’s strange. I really don’t think we can trust him.”
“We don’t have much choice,” Steven said. “But, Mouse, Nebraska is huge. Where do we start?”
Mouse sighed. “Just start driving there. You’re safer outside of Denver. I’ll be in touch. Don’t try and contact me. I might not be safe.”
She hung up before Steven could ask what she meant. He stared at the phone. Then he called his mom at work. Like before, her super-unhelpful supervisor answered, and Steven left a message. Not that he had any faith at all that his mother would actually get it.
Tessa hurled herself from the bed, snatched up her phone, and called Abby. Just from the tone of the conversation, Steven knew that it was business as usual in the Ross household. That was another big dose of relief.
She then called Bud. When she got off the phone, Tessa burst into tears. “The Magnox Securities guys said they drove some rich asshole away from your mom’s house, Steven. But my house is quiet. I can’t leave them, Steven. I can’t leave my family, not when they might be in danger.”
“This is the price we pay for being Dragonsouls,” Aria said from the bed. “You bo
th thought this would be a fun adventure, but no, it is war. Constant war.”
Tessa gave Aria a rueful look. “Not what I need to hear right now, Aria. Your family is in India. It’s different.”
Aria shook her head. “The minute I refused to marry Mulk, I lost my family. My father hates me now, and my mother has cut me off. I am dead to them both. You are my family now. And I will fight for you two and for the things you love. I will fight until I die.”
Steven didn’t like the tension in the air. And yet, they had a huge decision to make. Should they stay in Denver to protect their loved ones? Or should they take off for Nebraska to try and find Liam Strider?
Steven told them about his odd conversation with Mouse.
Tessa lowered her head and sobbed. Was there anything sadder than a naked woman weeping?
He took her into his arms and soothed her. Aria joined them on the floor. They held each other, and Steven felt keenly how much of a family they were.
“Okay,” he said. “This is what I think we should do. We have to trust that Bud’s security team will keep Mulk at bay for at least a little while. Our best bet is to find the yellow dragon.”
“Even though Mouse said we couldn’t trust him?” Tessa asked with a hitch in her voice.
Aria kissed her cheek. “Strider is the enemy of our enemy. We might not be able to put our faith in him, but we can put our faith in that.”
Steven rose. “We drive. We train. And we find the missing volumes of the Drokharis Grimoire. Then we come back and end this.”
Both women looked at him.
Then, impossibly, Tessa smiled. “Another road trip?”
Steven nodded. “And we leave clues for Mulk, to lead him away. It’s me he wants, not my mom, and not your family, Tessa. Eventually, if we get powerful enough, we might even lay a trap for him.”
“Him and the Terror Trio,” Aria said. “I like this plan. And I look forward to more NutCorns.”
“Corn Nuts,” Tessa corrected. “They go nicely with bad gas-station coffee and donuts.”
“Donettes,” Aria said with a mischievous little grin on her face.
It was settled then. They didn’t have an unlimited amount of money, and they didn’t know exactly where they were going, but it would feel good to get out on the road again.
