by Tara Lain
From the tension in the room, Jazz assumed that, like him, everyone in the room wanted to disagree with her, but no one said anything. The fact was, the four of them—the three supes and BeBop the genius—could spend their lives doing other things. Jazz would be richer than hell no matter how much schooling he got, and if he wanted to be a pack leader, he could probably simply step forward and say so. Fatima and Dij were part of a community dedicated to protecting their Dusan sisterhood. BeBop had a teaching job at fifteen, or he could work for his uncle. But Carla’s family expected her to follow in her father’s footsteps; that is, become an important politician. She’d be great at it too. But for sure it was a human job that needed a human college degree.
Jazz leaned over and pressed a hand to her back. “The world needs you, fam. You’re the kind of person who can actually make the world a better place. Getting rid of Nardo’s one thing. Getting rid of crime and poverty’s way more important.”
She looked at him, and her eyes got shiny, which made them both look away since Carla was the least sentimental of people. She nodded. “But I still want to be with you.”
Jazz said, “You always will be.” A stab in his chest made him gasp. “We need to get to Master Bopherson.”
They all stood and gathered their stuff. Jazz headed toward the door, but BeBop grabbed his arm. “Just a sec, baby. There’s a, uh, new neighbor on our floor, and we don’t know anything about him.”
Fatima said, “Except that BeBop thinks he looks like a mage. Like Dash.”
BeBop shrugged. “He’s got that too shiny, too beautiful to be believed look, you know?”
Carla frowned. “Why do you think there’s some scary dude on your floor?”
Khadija replied, soft and steady. “We don’t, Carla. We’re being very cautious. No one has ever rented an apartment on this floor except us. Naturally, it makes us—” She took a breath. “—vigilant.”
Jazz nodded, shivers running up his arms. “Probably just a coincidence.”
She seemed to force a smile. “Probably.”
BeBop stood at the door. When Jazz and Carla reached him, BeBop cracked the door and peeked out, then opened it and let Jazz and Carla cross in front of him.
As Jazz got to the top of the stairs, there was a clicking sound. He looked up to see a face peering from the third apartment. Whoa. BeBop hadn’t exaggerated. Beautiful. More effeminate than Dash.
The guy smiled and nodded. Jazz was too stunned to do anything, and then Carla came up behind him. The door clicked shut, and he was gone.
BeBop joined them as Carla said, “What was that?”
Jazz pressed a finger to his lips and started down the stairs.
When they got to the sidewalk, Jazz turned to Carla and BeBop. “While I was standing there, the door opened, and the new neighbor looked out.”
“Oh wow.” Carla pressed a finger against her lips.
BeBop said, “So?”
“Yeah. A supe.”
BeBop looked more serious than usual as he nodded.
Jazz was anxious, so they passed up the subway in favor of a cab. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up at the beautiful old brownstone that managed to look like it came from a different era even though it was much like the others on the street.
BeBop let them into the dark, quiet house. “Wait here.” He pointed to a seat in the parlor. He stepped through a side door that Jazz knew connected through the back hall to the large office/study where Master Bopherson hung out. The study could also be reached through the double sliding doors at the back of the parlor. Against the dark-tinted glass of the doors, the flicker of a candle danced.
Jazz sat next to Carla, and she put a hand against his back and patted unconsciously while she stared into space. “Do you think the MagiCouncil is so freaking powerful they can transport people from place to place?”
Jazz glanced at her. “You mean without a plane ticket? Like by floo powder?”
“Yeah, or shazam or something.”
“I guess it’s possible.”
“But we never saw Nardo do it, right? Do we think he showed up in the underground by magic, or did he just come through a different door than we did?”
“I never thought about it. Why?”
She shrugged. “Because if they have to fly everyone to the school, do you really think it makes sense to put Arcantaria in the Himalayas or in the middle of the rainforest? I mean, if there were one or two students a year, like Pai Mei took in Kill Bill, okay. But I didn’t get that feeling.”
“Interesting point.” He forced out a breath, trying to ease his tension. “But even if it’s in Kansas, we need to know in order to get there.”
The double doors slid open, and BeBop said, “Please come in.”
Show time. Jazz jumped up too fast, tried to look cool, failed, and hurried over to BeBop. Carla followed.
Inside the study, the scene was the same as the last time Jazz had been there. The long, low table, lighted primarily by candles, occupied most of the room and held stacks of books and papers. Bent over a scroll, marking it with a calligraphy brush, sat Master Bopherson, a small, dark-haired man who greatly resembled his nephew and looked mightily incongruous in a full Japanese kimono. He glanced up with the same mischievous grin BeBop flashed so often. “Ah, Jazz. So good you are here.” He nodded. “Carla, most excellent to see you.”
Carla, in her sassy way, plopped down on a cushion at the table. “Hey, Master Bopherson, we need to check with you on some stuff.”
“Yes, yes. Jazz, please sit down. You too, Benjamin.”
BeBop sat at the end of the table, and Jazz tucked in on a cushion next to Carla. He said, “Sir, I have a bad feeling that Dash is in trouble, but I haven’t got any way to communicate with him. I need to talk to someone at Arcantaria, or I need to go there, but I’ve got no idea where it is. Carla figured that the Seekers of Fukurokuju would know where it is if anyone does.”
Master Bopherson nodded seriously. “I see.”
Carla said, “Since you keep track of all the supernatural communities and species on earth, right? So you must know where they’re training the superwizards.”
Master Bopherson sighed heavily, extended his hands out of the big sleeves of his top and folded them on the table. “I’m so sorry, children, but I’m unable to tell you the location.”
BeBop leaned forward. “Uncle X, come on.”
“I’m sorry, my dear. The communities of magic and mystery share their secrets with the Seekers based on their certainty of our discretion. I cannot make an exception because you’re my nephew or my friends. I’m so sorry.”
Carla wailed, “But this is an emergency.”
“In the fullness of time, young ones, emergencies arise.”
“Uncle X, damn. Jazz is really worried.” BeBop pushed his glasses up his nose in frustration.
Master Bopherson gazed at Jazz through his own dark-rimmed glasses. “Think of options, Jazz. There must be other ways one with your resourcefulness can discover the whereabouts of unknown places.”
“But sir, I….” His mind lit up with the blaze of an idea, but he shied from it. “Thank you, sir. I understand.” He rose to his feet, and Carla jumped up beside him.
“You’re not giving up?” she asked.
Jazz shook his head. “I can’t ask Master Bopherson to betray a trust.”
Carla looked at Bopherson. “Sir, you must know someone who could help us without being a rat.”
“Jazz will think of something.” Master Bopherson smiled like some kind of Japanese lucky god.
Jazz said, “It’s okay, Carla. Maybe Dij and Fatima will have an answer.”
“But—”
Jazz bowed. “Thank you, sir.”
Master Bopherson gazed at Jazz, unblinking. “Remember that sometimes things are simpler than they seem.”
Jazz nodded, but that piece of wisdom and five bucks would buy him a latte.
When they got out on the sidewalk five minutes later, Khadija a
nd Fatima were waiting. They looked anxious.
Fatima said, “Did you learn anything?”
BeBop shook his head with a disgusted expression. “He knows, but he’s not allowed to tell us. Secrecy and all that crap.”
Carla said, “What about you? Do your sisters know the location?”
Khadija shook her head. “Like us, they have heard that it may be in the Himalayas.”
Jazz’s stomach flipped, half with worry for Dash and half with the prospect of what he had to do. He glanced at BeBop, Dij, and Fatima, and finally at Carla.
Carla wiped a hand across her eyes. “What are we going to do?”
Gods, he didn’t want to lie to her. Still Jazz said, “I’m going to go back to campus and close myself in for the rest of the weekend. I’m going to try to tune in with Dash. Maybe if I get quiet, I can reestablish our link. That seems like the best way. Maybe he’ll be able to tell me where he is, or at the very least what’s wrong with him.”
Dij nodded. “That seems wise, Jazz.”
Carla scowled. “I think it’s crappy. Jazz needs to be with us. What if he does find out there’s something wrong with Dash. Somehow we have to help him. We’re the Superordinary Society. We need to put our heads together.”
BeBop nodded. “But our heads don’t have to be together to be together, you dig? Jazz can go meditate, and then we can all do a hangout and plan.”
Carla looked from one to another around the circle. “Shouldn’t we have vanilla colas or something?”
Jazz said, “I feel like I need to go and be quiet first. Then we’ll all talk.” He looked at BeBop. “Can I just leave my toothbrush and sleep pants at your place?”
“Sure, baby. Think of it as your home away from home.”
“Thank you, guys.” He hugged all of them, with Carla last. He smiled at her. “I love you, fam.”
“Yeah, well, back atcha. Call me right away, soon as you know something. And even if you don’t. I’ll be back at school, but I’ll be going nuts waiting.”
He nodded and forced his feet to walk away from them at speed. He put on a show of heading for the subway, but slowed as soon as he got around the corner. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his phone from his pocket, searched, and hit Send on a name—Lysandra Mason.
Chapter Five
AS THE phone rang in his hand, Jazz tried to keep from hanging up. He hadn’t told anyone that Lysandra had offered to submit him as a candidate to Arcantaria. He couldn’t tell Dash, who was already gone. He’d shied from saying anything to Carla since he’d already decided not to go. She felt crappy enough about the fact that she was human and he wasn’t. No use making the gulf wider. And now he couldn’t force himself to tell them that he might be leaving.
“Jazz, is that you?”
He sucked back a gasp at her sudden answer. “Uh, yes, uh, ma’am.”
She chuckled. “Okay, when did I become ma’am?”
He managed a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry. You took me by surprise. I guess I thought you might not answer.”
“Were you hoping?” She laughed.
“Maybe a little.” He swallowed hard. She was his idol as a crusader for social justice before he knew she was one of the most powerful mages on earth.
“So tell me.”
Oh man. I should have thought this through before I called. “I, uh, you know how you offered to nominate me for, uh, superwizard school?”
“Yes. And you decided that it was more important for you to remain with your family and friends at this time.”
“Yes, well, you see, the problem is, I’m not really with my family and friends. I’m in college. And it doesn’t feel….” He ran out of steam.
“It doesn’t feel right for you?”
“I guess.” The idea of losing his family washed over him. He might be away from them, but he could get to his home in a short drive. If he went to Arcantaria, he wouldn’t see them at all. Pressure pushed against his chest. “I-I’m sorry. I should have given this more thought.”
“Jazz, do you want to come here to talk about this?”
“Where’s there?” Oops, did that sound snarky?
“My apartment. I can text you the address if you’d like to discuss your future.”
His heart tried to go two directions at once. Save Dash. Stay with his family. “I-I better talk to Pop-Pop first. I don’t want to waste your time.”
“You’ll be careful…. Forgive me. I forget that your family is, shall we say, unusual. Please give him my best regards.”
“Miss Mason?”
“Lysandra.”
“Lysandra, do you know how Dash is doing?” She paused. Crap, was that a bad thing? Jazz rushed on. “Is there something wrong? Is he unhappy? In trouble?”
“Jazz, it’s best if we don’t discuss Dash while he’s, uh, in school. You two have a close connection, and it’s better if your energy doesn’t pull on him, or vice versa.”
“But—”
“Let me know if you want to talk, okay?”
He knew the nicest possible brushoff when he heard it. “Thank you. I will. Bye.” He hung up so fast her ear probably got caught in the vacuum.
Think. He didn’t. Before his brain could catch up, he’d already punched the phone again.
“Jazz, dear. How are you? I’m so glad to hear from you.”
“Pop-Pop, can I come see you? I need to talk.”
“Of course. Do you have your car, or shall I send the limo?”
“I’m in New York.”
“I’ll call the tower and tell them to prep the helicopter.”
“Thanks, Pop-Pop.” It was pretty easy to understand why Pop-Pop was the CEO of one of the biggest and most successful American companies. He didn’t waste time.
“Is everything all right, Jazz?” Jazz smiled. Pop-Pop was also his grandfather.
“I’m fine. Just confused.” He snorted. “Nothing new about that.” He took off at speed toward his family’s offices, the phone still pressed to his ear.
“You’re eighteen, Jazz. If you weren’t confused about anything, you’d be asking too few questions and taking too few chances.” He chuckled softly.
“Yeah, I know. You can’t exactly accuse me of that, can you?”
“True.”
“I’m gonna hang up, Pop-Pop, so I can run. I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Would you like anyone else here?”
“Anyone is welcome, but mostly I need to talk to you.”
“See you soon.”
Jazz clicked off, sped up to a velocity a bit over reasonable human speed, and was at the Vanessen building in minutes. After a forty-five-minute helicopter flight, they were putting down on the back lawn of the Vanessen mansion outside Hartford.
Jazz hopped out, waved at the pilot, and ran to the patio doors of his home. Pop-Pop stood there waiting for him with the french doors open. Jazz ran straight into a bear hug. With a sigh, he dissolved into it.
When Jazz finally soaked up enough Pop-Popness for that moment, he stepped back and smiled down at his grandfather. Jazz could barely remember how old he was when he grew taller than Pop-Pop, but he knew for sure he’d never be as huge in heart and spirit. “Boy I missed you.”
“And I you, Jazz. Our days are simply not the same without you here.”
Heat pushed behind Jazz’s eyes and he grabbed Pop-Pop for another hug.
Pop-Pop held on, gently patting Jazz’s back. When Jazz let go, Pop-Pop directed him toward the informal living room, and of course when they walked in, there were his mom and Damon, his stepdad, plus his brother Lindsey and Lindsey’s husband, Seth. Lindsey bounded up, his long platinum hair flowing. “Darling, oh my gods we miss you around here.” He swept Jazz up in his arms.
It took a few minutes to hug everyone, with special attention for his mom, but finally Jazz sat on the Persian carpet at his mom’s feet, leaning back against her for comfort, facing his grandfather with Seth, Lindsey, and Damon spread out in the comfortable flowered cha
irs looking really attentive. It was a little intimidating talking to all of them at once, but hell, he didn’t have secrets from his family beyond confidences he might have received from others.
Pop-Pop said, “So Jazz, what are you confused about?” The man did get to the point.
Jazz had no idea where to start, so he just said the first thing that came to mind. “Uh, I never told you all, but the night that Dash left, Lysandra Mason came to see me.”
His mom leaned forward so he could see her face and gave him a look. “Where?”
“Oh, uh, she was in my bedroom when I went upstairs.”
“She was?” She looked somewhere between shocked and amused. “I guess I have to learn about magic.”
Lindsey smiled. “Now that you’re an old hand with werewolves.”
She shook her head. “A novice in both categories.” Lindsey’s mother—Jazz’s adopted mother—Elizabeth Vanessen, was a full-blooded human who’d birthed a half-werewolf and never knew his furry nature until he was in his twenties. She’d also adopted Jazz without knowing that he was an alpha were. But by the time all the secrets had come out of the closet, so much weird stuff had occurred around her and Pop-Pop that they both accepted the existence of werewolves like it was just your regular. The magic, however, was new to all of them as Jazz realized that he was more than a werewolf——or maybe different from a pure werewolf.
Pop-Pop said, “So Lysandra came to see you.”
Jazz nodded. “Yes. So you know how we heard Dash went off to a, uh, special school for mages, right?”
Lindsey crossed his arms. “With notably little regard for young love, in my opinion, but no one asked me.”
“He had to go, Linds. I mean, it would have been bad for him if he didn’t agree, plus it was what he wanted his whole life. I couldn’t ask him to sacrifice his dreams.”
