Vengeance (The Sorcerers' Scourge Series Book 3)

by Michael Arches

But the tattoo wasn’t the most interesting part of the picture. Someone had plunged a knife with a ruby encrusted handle straight down into the man’s head, burying the blade to the hilt. Blood had oozed from the wound and ran down his head. Nasty!

  “Did Oran Byrne do this?” she asked.

  Before I could respond, Nicky hurled his breakfast across her desk.

  “We’re done here.” I took his arm, steadied him, and hurried him out of the police department.

  Chapter 2

  AFTER HE GOT SOME fresh air, Nicky’s eyes focused again. He was a tough guy, but he did all his fighting in the courtroom or in meetings. The bar association discouraged the spilling of blood.

  “Ugh, that was pretty nasty.” I said.

  “I would’ve handled it better if she’d warned me first,” he replied.

  I laughed. “Can’t blame you for a natural human reaction. She wanted to shock us, and she did.”

  Nicky’s face was red, and he swore loudly in French. The man was angry as I’d ever seen him.

  Finally, he switched back to English. “We didn’t deserve this shit. I’m calling the mayor and the chief of police right now.”

  I patted his arm. “You paid her back already. I’ll bet her office reeks for a month. I’ll ask Oran if he knows anything about the deaths of Hudson or the man with the blade in his head.”

  Because Oran was my slave, magic would force him to tell me the whole truth.

  “I’ll call the district attorney,” Nicky said. “He’ll tell me if they’re really building a case against the mayor’s nephew. If so, they’ll need your help, and Diana’s. This was no way to treat a valuable witness they’ll need later”

  Then he stepped away and called.

  A few minutes later, Nicky returned. “I left a message.”

  I nodded. “At least we know Oran didn’t kill the stabbing victim. No magical person could’ve used a knife against the victim, who was obviously a gladiator.”

  Nicky patted my back. “The cops won’t feel confident in your explanation, no matter how true it happens to be. If Peters insists on talking to you again, I’ll have to set much better ground rules.”

  I smiled for the first time since I’d met the woman. “Nah, piss on her. I never want to talk to her again.”

  -o-o-o-

  BACK IN MY CAR, I called Diana to report on the morning’s happenings.

  She said, “We have a surprise guest. In response to your message yesterday, Gill sent Oran back. It just happens that your slave knows a great deal of helpful information about the opposition.”

  “Great, I can hardly wait to grill him about these murders.”

  When I arrived at the ranch, I found Oran waiting for me in the lounge area of the dining room. He was drinking a bottle of Perrier and admiring our fountain. I shook his hand and took him over to a deserted corner of the room. Then I asked how Gill was doing in Brittany.

  “He’s in excellent health and spirits, Master, and sends his warmest regards.”

  I knew magic was forcing Oran to act like a decent human being, but it still warmed my heart to hear him speak so affectionately of my dear friend.

  “I have a few questions about Hudson,” I said. “First, did you know that someone other than Hudson triggered the bomb blast that killed him?”

  His eyes opened wide. “No, but many powerful people were dissatisfied with him at that time.”

  “Was Raul Escobar, the regional slayer, pissed enough to murder Hudson?” I asked. Escobar had helped kill my closest kin back in Oklahoma, and I was still plotting my revenge.

  “I doubt it,” Oran replied. “Escobar wouldn’t have let Hudson oversee the local sorcerers if he’d lost confidence in him.”

  Next, I tried a different angle. “My guess is that some non-magical person triggered the bomb. That would’ve made it easier to fool magic into letting the explosion happen.”

  “I agree,” my slave said. “Plus, I know Hudson couldn’t have made the weapon himself. He was not particularly intelligent, and he could barely operate his cell phone.”

  Then I realized that the same non-magical person who built the bomb might’ve set it off. The whole scheme made no sense yet. “One thing I don’t understand is why someone would use a car bomb to assassinate me and Hudson. A sniper would’ve been a lot easier to hire and just as effective.”

  Oran nodded. “Bombs are mostly used by terrorist organizations or governments. Very complicated technology.”

  His comment made me think about the sorcerers’ rigidly organized hierarchy. “Do the slayers’ councils use bombs?”

  “Certainly, at least against non-magical enemies like drug cartels.”

  More potential threats to me and mine. “What do you know about the councils?” I asked.

  “The International Council of Slayers is run by Thomas Thatcher, the Lord High Chancellor. He’s the most dangerous sorcerer in the world.”

  “You sound like you know him,” I replied.

  Oran gave me a mirthless laugh. “I met him once at the council’s headquarters in London. It operates out of a three-hundred-year-old building as ornate as Versailles. Thatcher’s henchmen dragged me into a conference room with six men and two women sitting around a gold-plated conference table.”

  Oran’s description of the setting, and his pale face, piqued my interest. “Sounds like fun. What’d you talk about?”

  He shook his head. “I’m bound by oath not to discuss that matter, but I was bloody well surprised and delighted to leave the meeting alive.”

  “Tell me more about Thatcher,” I said.

  “He runs the council with all the delicacy of Attila the Hun sacking Rome. He’s tall, thin, and playing at the top of his game. Everyone else on the council instantly seconded every suggestion he made.”

  “Sounds like a real charmer,” I replied, “but I’d be very surprised to hear he knows anything about Colorado.”

  Oran shrugged. “Perhaps, but I think you’ll be surprised by how much Thatcher knows about you.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I said. “I’m astonished. Why would the world’s biggest and baddest evildoer give a gnat’s ass about me?”

  He snickered. “You’ve established the only witch sanctuary in the middle of this country. That makes you and Brigid’s clan a symbol of resistance. Thatcher has to be furious.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “Would he come after me or Diana directly?”

  Oran paused for a moment before responding. “I doubt it, but you and Diana should certainly exercise every precaution anyway. I think it’s more likely he would direct the American council to exterminate you. Technically, you’re under their jurisdiction.”

  I knew hardly anything about them either. “Who’s in charge of the American council? I think I’ve heard the name Fletcher.”

  “Exactly, Mark Fletcher. It is rumored that he owns ten percent of all the real estate in Manhattan, as well as his many exclusive resorts all around the world. I’ve heard he enjoys drowning annoying children and pets in his bathtub. That may be apocryphal, however.”

  I found that hard to believe, but the nastiest sorcerer in the country was sure to be a monster. And now he was supposedly coming after me. The thought sent a chill down my spine.

  “What could he or Thatcher do to me or Diana within the sanctuary zone?”

  “I have no idea, master, but you can be certain that they wish you ill. Remember, if they hired one non-magical assassin to get rid of you and Hudson, they can surely hire another to finish the job. The silence on their side of the sanctuary line is deafening.”

  I considered that point for a moment but then remembered the other purpose of our meeting. “Let’s talk more about these councils later. In the meantime, on an unrelated topic, I recently saw a gruesome picture of a man’s body with a jewel-encrusted knife sticking out of the top of his head. Do you know anything about that murder?”

  “Clyde Murphy,” Oran replied.

&nb
sp; I sat back in my chair. The name meant nothing to me. “How was he involved with the bombing?”

  “He wasn’t. Murphy was a gladiator from Cleveland. He won a match fight in early December. Afterwards, a group of us who’d bet on him to our advantage celebrated with our hero. We took Murphy to an Irish bar and drank until the wee hours.”

  That sounded remarkably normal. “But things got out of hand later?”

  “By the time the bar closed, Murphy had fallen for the charms of another man’s woman. His rival was just as big as Murphy, and the two men fought for the slut in the parking lot.”

  “Any magic involved?”

  Oran shook his head. “Unfortunately, Murphy brought his big fists to a knife fight. Within a minute, the angry boyfriend drove his blade down into Murphy’s head. Even the strongest fighter’s life can be snuffed out in an instant.”

  When I finished talking to Oran, I filled Diana and Nicky in on what I’d learned from Oran. They offered me no opinions, other than the obvious one that I should stay within Boulder County and watch my back.

  Then a thought occurred to me. “Whoever killed Hudson might’ve really been after me, instead. I expect that the person who detonated the bomb could’ve done that at any time. If he’d just wanted to get rid of Hudson alone, he didn’t need to wait until I was on the verge of winning the fight.”

  “Excellent point,” Nicky said. “I should’ve thought of that myself. I wonder who had good reason to exterminate you.”

  “Escobar comes to mind,” I said.

  “Of course,” Nicky replied, but you knew that already. “Let me ask our private investigator to look into the identities of the bomb maker and his employer. There might be another sorcerer out there looking to eliminate you. It’s best that you know about every threat you face.”

  -o-o-o-

  Friday, March 29th

  Sullivan’s Animal Hospital, Boulder, Colorado

  I WORKED ALL MORNING, one emergency after another. When Felicity called me, and I was ready for a break. I’d just saved a golden retriever with severe lung congestion, and that hadn’t been easy.

  After some small talk, she said, “I’ve talked to Juan Ortiz about the bomber.”

  “He’s great,” I replied. “I’ve worked with him on several rescue projects. Release the hound!”

  “I did. Can we meet you for lunch?”

  “Sure.”

  The three of us gathered at an expensive Italian restaurant. I was paying for it, and since I was flush with cash for the first time in my life, I decided to splurge.

  Juan was short, dark, and not handsome. Too many sopapillas for dessert. On the plus side, he was fantastic at finding people. What little hair he had left had formed short, tight, gray curls covering the back and sides of his skull.

  The three of us sipped a bubbly white wine from Tuscany, and I explained to him and Felicity all I knew about the day Hudson and I were blown up. I also explained my confusion about who might want both me and him dead.

  After we tossed around different possibilities, Juan said, “Those Boulder sorcerers were a goddamned nasty bunch. You be extra careful. I know Escobar. He’ll want revenge for all the scum you eliminated, including Hudson, and the regional slayer won’t stop until he gets it.”

  I felt a jolt of adrenaline blast through me. If Juan was worried, I was in real trouble.

  “Anyway”—I wagged my fork at him—“don’t forget to follow the alternative theory that someone was extra-mad at Hudson. I might’ve figured this out all wrong, and I was just collateral damage.”

  “You’re right,” Juan said. “When we figure out who killed him, we should be able to discover why. I already know that when Sid met his untimely demise, Escobar didn’t waste any time in picking someone else. The new guy has organized the former Boulder sorcerers in the next county to the east, namely Broomfield.”

  I wasn’t surprised that the head slayer had moved fast. “Who’s the new boss?” I asked.

  Juan wrapped linguini noodles around his fork. “Working on finding out.”

  “In any case,” Felicity said. “Check on everyone who had a grudge against Hudson alone.”

  “Don’t spend much time on Escobar. I already know he’s gunning for me, and I’m doing my best to get ready for that fight. My real question is whether someone else out there is on my tail, too.”

  Juan nodded.

  I’d already beaten fourteen sorcerers over about seven months. Although each one had made me stronger, they’d also messed with my head. That much conflict was tough to process mentally, and I’d been happy for a break from battles over the last few months. Unfortunately, my vacation looked to be ending.

  Juan didn’t have the same problems, and he ate hearty, finishing with the tiramisu, which he swore was excellent.

  -o-o-o-

  Brigid’s Community Ranch, Boulder County, Colorado

  WHEN I GOT BACK to our apartment, I explained to Laura what Felicity and Juan had told me. Then I said, “Maybe this would be a good time for us to make ourselves scarce for a while? We could go on our honeymoon.”

  She looked at me askance. “What honeymoon.”

  We’d handfasted in February, and her, me, and Christina had talked about celebrating with a vacation together. But I hadn’t called it a honeymoon until today. “You know, our little trip. We keep trying to find time, but we’re always busy. I say we just cancel everything for two weeks and go.”

  She smiled. “Fine. Where?”

  We’d made a small folder of possible places, all warm compared to Colorado in early spring. “I don’t care as long as I’m with you and Christina.”

  “Awww,” she replied. “How about the redwoods. April is supposed to be nice on the coast of California. Diana knows the head of a colony of witches originally from Greece who runs a retreat for magicians.”

  “Works for me. Let’s plan to go in a week.”

  She nodded. “By the way, Portland is interested in you, more than ever actually. Your exploits have convinced them to offer you a two hundred grand signing bonus and fifty grand a month to accept their post of Master of Arms.”

  I hadn’t thought about that for a while. The bigger cities with witch communities were willing to pay a lot for protection, and I could command a premium as a fighter now.

  “I see a few problems,” I said. “First, I’ll still be Diana’s vassal until June. Second, I thought you liked it here. And third, I like most of the folks here. On the other hand, two hundred grand? That’s a helluva lot of money. I hadn’t realized we were so popular.”

  She chewed the end of a pen. “I do like it here, and Christina has lots of friends. But I hear the West Coast is nice, too. If Portland doesn’t come through, San Luis Obispo or Monterey might. Sorcerers are on the rampage everywhere these days. They’ve taken over the South, the Midwest except for Chicago, and Interior West except for here.”

  “We’re pretty isolated.”

  She nodded. “And on the West Coast, where witches can live freely in spectacular areas. I’d say fifty grand a month to avoid slavery is reasonable.”

  I snickered as I thought of Diana’s reaction to this offer. “Don’t tell our Supreme Leader you’re negotiating, or she’ll rip your head off.”

  “I know.”

  -o-o-o-

  DIANA SEEMED MELLOW AT dinner. Laura brought her a glass of red wine, and we sat next to her in comfortable chairs near the fountain.

  “You two look too wary,” Diana said before we asked about the honeymoon. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing,” Laura said, but her voice squeaked.

  Diana frowned. “Out with it.”

  “We’d really love a honeymoon, a vacation.” I’d remembered too late the clan didn’t go for traditional marriage.

  “A real nice vacation,” Laura added. “That Greek retreat you mentioned in California sounds marvelous.”

  “Sure, I was already planning for some token of our esteem from the council an
d your family of friends here. We were going to surprise you, but best not to wait.”

  I was surprised. “How sweet is that?” I asked Laura.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll make all the arrangements in California,” Diana said. “You’ll fly to Eureka. The North Coast is supposed to be very scenic, and I envy you the trip. From Eureka, you have to take a boat south along the fabled Lost Coast until you arrive at the resort. There’s no road that comes close. If the ocean’s too rough for boats, a chartered helicopter is your only alternative.”

  Laura smiled.

  I said, “I really think you’re going overboard on this. This resort sounds too fancy for us. We just need a simple cabin and some hiking trails.”

  Diana snorted. “I want my disciple to have a wonderful time, and if that means you have to eat lobster and fancy French food, well I apologize.”

  Laura broke into a nervous giggle.

  “Anyway, I’ll book a suite for the three of you for two weeks. They have a private beach, lovely headlands, and a huge forest of old growth redwoods. Horses and kayaks are available, of course. They also send out a whale watching boat every day. We expect you to do it all.”

  Laura kissed Diana on the cheek and said, “You are an angel.”

  Diana nodded. “I have to admit I have an ulterior motive in encouraging you to go there. There’s an outstanding witch, Ellen Camphor, who is a professor at a university near Eureka. She’s gifted with potions. After your vacation, I’m hoping you two can talk to her and learn something. Please plan to stay an extra week or two in Eureka. She’s supposed to be having trouble with dementia, and I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be available to help others.”

  “Maybe I could heal her?” Laura asked.

  Diana sighed. “That would be wonderful, but others have tried and failed. I don’t hold out much hope. She has kept journals of her research, though, and at a minimum, try to get copies for the witches at CU.” She paused for a moment. “Actually, the West Coast is thick with gifted witches. While you’re out there, you and Laura ought to meet several other masters of the craft.”

  I groaned. Laura was much more of a people person than I was.