Wizard of Our Time

by C P Sennett

  Wizard Of Our Time

  Book 1 of the Suffolk Sentinel Series

  ©2018

  Having purchased this eBook from Amazon it is entirely for your own personal use. It may not be copied, reproduced, printed or used in any way at all other than in its intended Kindle format.

  This book is published by the author C P Sennett and it is entirely meant in its original format as a novella story.

  This is a fictional story and the characters and events depicted in this bear no relevance to any persons living or dead. It is purely a work of fiction and as a result it should be treated this way.

  We hope you like this and be sure to look out for the sequel to be released in Q1 of 2019.

  Titled - Awakening The Red Claws

  Chapter 1

  It was almost a delight as I floated through the sea of people at the masquerade ball. It would have even been fun if I was someone else, someone different and not here, working. Believe me, knowing what I know is as much a curse as a joy. Once your eyes are opened to the world around, you can’t switch off the light, no matter how hard you try. It’s the same for everyone, even me, Eddie Holt.

  You see, humanity’s at war and has been since well before the time of Jesus. For all we know, it has been in this war since we first climbed out of the swamps and evolved into something like what we are today. Supernatural beings and foul creatures of all types are all vying for our attention. Each one is desperate to whisper into the ears of the unsuspecting. Willing and wanting to taint us and shape our will to suit their own needs and most importantly to gain a foothold in our world.

  I continued to survey the immaculately dressed people in the room. This must have been the fifth time I had swept the room since arriving at this black-tie event. I was trying to see anything that would give me a sign, anything that looked out of place. The problem was, everything did.

  People hiding their faces behind masks, which in turn hides or magnifies their body language. Most wanting to fit in and be part of the crowd while trying to work out who is who behind the masks. Others are given a new-found level of confidence from the anonymity that a mask brings. Not to mention a ton of complimentary alcohol being passed around.

  This made reading people hard, really hard.

  With £300 tied up in a sharp fitting tuxedo I at least looked the part. Not too flash but middle of the road was what I was aiming for, just another average guy in a suit. The venue was warm inside and people were, for the most part, standing still which made my job a little easier at least. Women with just enough flesh on show to look enticing, but not cheap. Elegant ladies talking in groups with their faces hidden behind a range of cheaply-made yet beautiful masks. Masks, now these are a powerful subject which I’ll explain later.

  The men in the room were equally smart. Standing tall and respectful as they eagerly shook hands with each other. Cummerbunds and waistcoats were pulled tight as around half the men in the room attempted to hide the advances of middle age. For some, though, that ship had already sailed.

  My eyes strained to see people hidden in the shadows of the atmospherically lit room. Its slightly gothic-style dressing certainly added to the occasion.

  Some guests stood talking in these pockets of shadow, for now, willingly playing the part of hiding their faces with their costume masks. Granted, a few men didn’t play ball, one group in particular, breaking ranks as the lead male used his mask less and less as the drinks flowed.

  A group of five, what I guessed were younger men, were standing at the far side of the room hitting the shots hard. They seemed affluent enough to be here and standing with the cockiness that only youth, money and a free bar brings.

  I watched for a bit noticing their growing noise and boldness as the lead man raised his mask off his face when a nice-looking woman came within ‘striking range.’ This particular dark-haired male kept his eyes on the young ladies of the room, playfully trying his luck as he beckoned a few over, with no success.

  My eyes flashed to a huge mixed group eagerly shaking hands nearby and making a bit of noise as they had seemingly worked out who was who behind some of the masks. They simply appeared to be laughing and enjoying themselves as most do at a good masquerade ball. So, since they checked out my gaze moved on. They weren’t who I was looking for.

  I continued to scan the room and considered my options. Did I go into the bathroom and chance a divination in the hope of getting some insight into where the girl I was here looking for was, or did I…

  “Eddie, is that you?” came a male voice to my left.

  I turned to see who was speaking to me, partly to shut them up so I could continue with my low profile and partly wondering how in the darkest depths of the shadow worlds could anyone know I was here. Being honest, I’m a relative nobody in these circles.

  “Eddie, don’t be shy.” said a short man of medium build as he took a step closer to me. He moved even closer so as to be heard above the growing chatter of the room. “As ever you scrub up well but I never expected to see you here.” said the man with a thick Irish accent, his voice now as audible as his ostentatious dress. “Also, how comes you are not wearing your favourite tux, what is this a rental or something?”

  “Thomas?” I asked, guessing that it had to be Thomas O’Mara. One look down at his contrasting black and white leather shoes and black tuxedo with a silver pattern emblazoned on the lapels gave him away. Not many others would be brave enough to pull off that outfit and it was his favourite for this sort of occasion. It was made more obvious by his unusual cummerbund. He claimed the embroidered pattern on it was of his family crest, something we both knew wasn’t true. The rearing silver dragon against a black background was finely stitched to make it look as though it was roaring at the moon.

  Now, I know Tommy well, he’s a little more than an acquaintance, he’s also a drunk. He is, for his sins, a keen-eyed antiques dealer from whom I had occasionally bought things at his Chelmsford based store.

  “Sure is.” he replied from behind the stylish and authentic black and silver Venetian mask. “Was it my witty accent that gave me away?”

  “No, it was your shoes.”

  Tommy’s smile was visible below his half face mask and I noted the slightly flushed look on his cheeks. I suspected he had been on the drink for a few hours before he even came out. He was hardly ever in his shop these days, always out wining and dining clients and letting his infectious southern Irish accent do the work for him. “I never thought I’d see you here Eddie.” he said, a bit of spittle gathering as it often did on his bottom lip.

  Now, as much as I wanted to keep a low profile I was slightly pleased that he was here. Most likely he was the only person I knew and he was always very discreet about me and his other high end clients. Being honest, he was the first person I had spoken to in twenty minutes and I was starting to feel as though I would become conspicuous if I stood alone for much longer. “Good to see you Tommy, and we will catch up soon, I promise. I need to keep a low profile though, so, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, making my snub to Tommy sound as gentle as I could. After all, I did feel bad for him, he’s a good guy and someone who can get his hands on some great items of antiquity. Best of all, he knew my tastes in antiques, which was rare.

  “Looking to keep a low profile eh? Well, if you are then why did you wear a mask worth about twenty grand? Oh, you stand out to me big time my friend.” he said with a broad smile before continuing. “Also, I want to know when you are going to sell that beauty to me. It’s a lovely mask and you know I only want it for my private collection. I dare say it’s high time you parted with it.”

  I looked past Tommy, which wasn’t too hard as he was a little shorter than most, at about five feet four. I quickly sc
anned over his head trying to see if I had missed anything. A bad reflection, an unnatural shadow or just a hint of smoke above someone. Anything out of place was what I was looking for.

  “Hey, Eddie what you gawking at?” asked Tommy, as he looked about like a straining meerkat, drawing attention to us both.

  I tensed my jaw knowing I had to pay Tommy some attention or it was likely he’d push the issue, getting louder and louder about why I was keeping a low profile. He wasn’t the sort to be brushed off easily. If anything, you would think he was part terrier as he rarely let anything go.

  “Tommy, you know the mask is worth £40,000 easy, and I’m not going to sell it as you’ll just sell it on to someone else, you can’t help yourself. Also…Tommy” I stumbled trying to find the words, half distracted. “Er…it’s kind of a little embarrassing…” I stammered, as I kept watching the room with my eyes occasionally flicking down to him. With Tommy, it’s important to give him enough attention to keep him happy, otherwise he’ll play up. As I did this, I was mentally fumbling for a polite excuse to ditch him. On a normal night Tommy would be great fun. Sadly though, sometimes things get nasty quickly around me and I didn’t want him or anyone else to get in caught up in it. Drinking with Tommy and antiques are play and I was here for work.

  I motioned him in closer and leaned down to whisper into his ear. As I said he’s short and I’m a little over six feet, so I had to lean in.

  “Tommy, I have an ex here and I want to avoid her for both our sakes, it could be embarrassing as she may have clients with her. So…I’m trying to be the good guy here, if you get me?”

  Then it came, BANG! He slapped me hard on back. “Really Eddie, piss off” he roared. “You haven’t got an ex here.” My back stung hot for a moment as he’d hit me so hard that the slapping noise attracted the attention of a few people close by. These poor people minding their business and chatting around us near the smaller of the two bars in the vast function room.

  I quickly put my hand up to show them everything was all right as eyes watched me from behind masks, their mouths showing obvious disdain at the loud noise Tommy made. Tommy though was his usual oblivious self and continued. “Eddie, if you have an ex here I have to meet her. Anyone who could have stuck around with you for any length of time is someone I have to meet. No offence of course” he added, as an afterthought.

  “Look, I REALLY need to keep it to a quiet one tonight and you have my word we’ll do lunch, or I’ll drive on over to see that stone eagle you’ve been emailing me about!” One thing Tommy loved was a sale. It’s the Irish in him I guess but, as even he says, he loves anything green.

  Tommy had been on at me about a hand carved stone eagle he had. It had a swastika carved in its base. He thought this was a later addition to the piece and wanted my take on it. We’d talked on email about it as he thought it was old. Most likely Roman he thought, and this sort of thing was right up my street, just without the swastika. To be honest with you, I was partially interested in it.

  For now, though, I needed to get away from Tommy but I had to do it so I didn’t become memorable. Tonight, I just needed to be another mask in the crowd but equally I needed to placate Tommy and without attracting any more attention than he already had.

  “So, Eddie, what are you really here for?” asked Tommy, as he wiped his bottom lip with a handkerchief from his jacket pocket.

  I shrugged, as my eyes were drawn to a tall man in a brightly-coloured red suit who instantly stood out. Then, I lost interest as he was performing sleight-of-hand tricks to a small group who were very into what he was doing. Lots of laughing loudly at his lame tricks, deceptions which were easy to spot if you had an eye for it.

  “I’m here for the auction as well Tommy, I’ve got my eye on something.” I replied, as I knew there was going to be an auction. There always is at this sort of thing.

  As Tommy was about to speak the band suddenly started up. A melodic song began and everywhere around the room faces lit up with gentle smiles and conversation faded in appreciation. Then, seconds later a natural round of applause swept across the room.

  Think Eddie, I told myself as I looked down at the momentarily distracted Tommy. It didn’t last long though. Just as I was about to say something firm about trying to buy a Persian Shamshir sword with an interesting history, I was saved. As the applause began to die a lady appeared from behind me and quickly moved to Tommy’s side. She moved effortlessly, the way women can do in a manner that captures the eyes of men.

  “Oh Thomas, who’s your darling friend?” she purred as my attention was immediately drawn to her. This woman was early forties I guessed by the ever so slight ageing of her skin, but she was clearly someone who took her exercise very seriously. She had that kind of bullet-proof body you see on women in the movies, sculpted shoulders on a lean, lithe figure. She reminded me of some popstar, whom I can’t remember, which was odd as I couldn’t see her face due to an elegant mask. I’m not good on pop, past or present but she had a similar, athletic figure like that woman, you know, that’s into Kabala.

  Anyhow, this woman wore a well-made and perfectly fitted black dress. Like everyone else she had a mask on her face which was accented by some well-made lace edging that complemented her dark eyes and smoky eye make-up. She was no taller than Tommy and that was with heels on, so she must have been around five foot. She had a parting on the left side of her long, thick black hair which enhanced expensive looking sparkling earrings that caught the light, showing off their perfectly rounded design.

  My first instinct was that she looked like trouble, devilish trouble, as my heart slowly began to bang away inside my chest. Boom, boom, boom it went, as I looked into her eyes. They looked so…captivating. So captivating that I just stared…I didn’t notice anything else about her for a heartbeat or two. My vision focussed purely on those wonderful eyes as we stared at one another…

  It was Tommy’s voice which brought me sharply back to the present. A present that let me take in the rest of her loveliness. Perfect white teeth and dark red lips which looked so deep, like endless red pools inviting you to jump into and to drink deeply. “Hey, Eddie, this is Alison Caro, my new assistant.” said Tommy, noticing my open-mouthed gaze and stupid look.

  “And, hands off, remember, I saw her first ya know.” added Tommy with a playful yet slightly nervous smile.

  Then, the lovely Alison spoke as I slowly remembered I had a voice and I could use it if I wanted.

  “Hello Eddie, you can call me Ali. I guess Eddie’s short for Edward, right?” she ventured, offering me a small and elegantly gloved hand.

  I took the slender hand, only too aware that I was now smiling like a lapdog as I brought her black- gloved hand slowly up to my lips and gently kissed it. The familiarity of the rings on her right hand snapped me hard, back into reality. These expensive rings, two of Tommy’s finest from his store, one a plain gold band with a large red ruby surrounded by a bed of high-quality diamonds, the other a thinner golden ring with a huge red imperial topaz embedded in it. He must really trust her, that or he is doing her. Either way I thought, lucky bastard!

  “Hi, er Ms Caro. Lovely to meet you.” I said trying not to look at her too much and remembering the important job that I was here to do. Find the girl…damn job…. I thought.

  “So, Eddie, how do you know dear Tommy here and for how long?” she asked as she touched Tommy’s shoulder with a degree of familiarity.

  I looked back to her for a second and paused instead of replying, not because of anything she had said but I was a little too alarmed by what had just happened to my right.

  Someone had looped their arm through mine and I knew it wasn’t Ali as she looked to only have the normally allotted two arms. In my line of work, you need to check this. Honestly, things sometimes do have more than the standard two, but that’s a whole other story.

  Without looking, I stood still and replied to Alison. “We go back a bit Tommy and me, we’re good drinking buddies.” I answ
ered, as I looked for something reflective to see if I could see who was at my side and holding my arm. No joy, shit, I thought… so, I turned.

  A blonde lady was standing next to me, her arm through mine. As I looked up at her delicate face it felt like Christmas all of a sudden, even with a mask on, wow!

  All women seem to look more alluring at this sort of party. It’s the masks and I’ll be honest, I’ve always had a thing for them. She was about five feet eight tall so a little shorter than me and again she had an attractive face from what I could see and lovely bow shaped lips. Her lips appeared to be make-up free but still they shone brightly against the room’s lighting.

  “Ali…you’ve made a friend.” said the blonde with a smooth, gentle voice. Infectiously giggling to the brunette at Tommy’s side.

  It didn’t escape me that she sounded as if she had been at the champagne a little too much. In truth, she wouldn’t have been the only one as this seemed to be the start of the silly hour in the room. I’d noticed the older executives plying themselves with as much strong drink as they could, desperately trying to keep up with the young bucks in the room and seldom did that end up well. The fun of the corporate party scene I guess.

  Ali smiled back. Her stunning dark features lighting up and from what I could see, given the mask, Ali reminded me of some Middle Eastern princess of old.

  “Yes, you already know Tommy. This is his dashing friend Edward. He seems very proper doesn’t he.” Her emphasis of the work ‘proper’ with her best sounding posh English accent was out of this world, before she added. “He’s just the sort of person you love to corrupt.”

  I coughed.

  The blonde on my arm said, “Hello Eddie, I’m Fern.” and with a squeeze of my arm she added “You feel like an Eddie; can I call you Eddie?” she asked, with a pleasant smile.

  The dark-haired Ali laughed with a generous dose of wickedness before giving Fern the gentlest of reassuring touches on her forearm, an arm which was still looped through mine.