In Absentia: A Demon's Apprentice Anthology

by Ben Reeder

  IN

  ABSENTIA

  A DEMON’S APPRENTICE

  ANTHOLOGY

  In Absentia: An Anthology

  Copyright © 2017 Ben Reeder

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or entities is strictly coincidental.

  Cover art by Angela Gulick Design.

  Other books by Ben Reeder:

  The Demon’s Apprentice series:

  The Demon’s Apprentice

  Page of Swords

  Vision Quest

  Charm School

  The Zompoc Survivor series:

  Zompoc Survivor: Exodus

  Zompoc Survivor: Inferno

  Zompoc Survivor: Odyssey

  The Verge Walker series:

  The Long Walk

  Dedication:

  Mikayela, Bella, Emmett, Wyatt & Bennett:

  Dream big dreams, do epic things, go forth and be a force of awesome.

  Acknowledgements:

  As always, thank you Mom and Randi. You’ve both been behind me from day one. Without your unwavering support and love (and let’s not forget endless saint like patience) none of this would ever have happened.

  The Springfield Writers Society: Kristi, Sam and Airik: Your persistence has been a huge help. Keep the dream alive.

  My beta readers, Valerie Terrell and Silver Voletto. I know I asked a lot of you in a very short time.

  My Patreon backers, Zak Schreifels, Gwyn Stuckless, Jacob Stein and Aimee Hebert. Thank you for your support and your faith in my work.

  To all my readers: Thanks for your continued support. I hope to see more of you in person at conventions!

  Mage Enough

  When your best friend is a wizard, you pick up a few things. A little knowledge, a few memories you could live without, some neat gadgets, some interesting friends…and the occasional pointy toothed asshole who shows up and threatens your family.

  “Maybe I heard you wrong,” I said as I looked around my grandfather’s bookstore. It was frighteningly quiet and deserted. “Did you just-”

  “You heard me correctly, Lucas Kale,” the cadaverous looking monster on the other side of the counter said. “You and I must settle a matter between us, or I will be forced to kill your grandfather. Please understand that I would take no pleasure in the act, but I can no longer allow your breach of etiquette to go unanswered.”

  “Breach of etiquette?” I sputtered. “What in the hell are you talking about. I’ve never met you before today, much less…” I stopped when he pulled a tablet from his jacket and laid it down on the counter. The image on the screen showed a familiar looking black Mercedes McLaren sliding across a dance floor. The top was down, part of the windshield had been sheared off and there I was in the driver’s seat, hands knotted on the steering wheel, eyes shut tight as glass and chairs flew past me. “…crashed a car into your club.” He swiped his clawed fingertip across the screen, and another image slid into place. In this one, Chance was on my right, his TK wand extended. I was posed like a skinny version of Rambo, but the bright green watergun in my hands sort of killed the macho. In front of me, three vampires were reeling back with their heads on fire.

  “Impressive marksmanship,” the walking corpse said, almost like he meant it.

  “Um, thanks?” I said, wishing I could shrink down behind the counter. I wasn’t sure who tall, stark and fangy was, but he was showing me images of me killing vampires like I was late to a Van Helsing family reunion after claiming I’d breached some kind of etiquette. The shit was getting deeper by the pixel here, and I wasn’t sure what kind of arrangement he was after.

  “You’re welcome. Now, that we have established that a breach of etiquette has occurred, we can discuss reparations.”

  “Okay, so, yeah, that happened. But that was more like property damage and arson than bad manners. And speaking of manners, who the hell are you? If you’re gonna come in here and threaten my family, it’d be nice to know your name so I can make a good comeback threat.”

  That made him back up a little. “I am…unaccustomed to anonymity. I am Lord Thraxus. As to the death and destruction, that was no more than I expected when I gave Fortunato leave to act against Etienne. You, however, were given no such dispensation.”

  I did a double take at that. “So, you’re not pissed at me because I blew up your shit, you’re pissed because I did it without permission?”

  The dead guy actually smiled at that, which was easily the creepiest thing he’d done. “My emotions do not enter into this equation. As I stated previously, my hand is being forced here. Your presence at Inferno was unwanted, and unlike the Nazarite, you lack the power to defy me openly. Certain factions outside of my court have taken this as a sign of weakness on my part. Thus I find myself faced with two options if I wish to avoid certain conflicts. Kill you or your family, or demand reparation from you. I find Fortunato more convenient as an ally, and your efforts were useful to me. Thus, our present conversation.”

  “So, you want me to do something for you,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Indeed,” Thraxus said. “A gesture of contrition which will satisfy my court.”

  “Just so you know, I don’t kiss ass well,” I said.

  The smile disappeared, leaving his face a blank slate. “You’re a very brave boy, Lucas. But when the lives of others are on the line, you will suffer any indignity to save them. Even to the point of literally placing your lips against my buttocks in public. But I don’t want to humiliate you. I want you to do something for me that I believe we will both find beneficial. In a few minutes, a police officer is going to arrive. Assist him as best you can, but when he comes to the wrong conclusion, do not correct him. I believe you know what to do next.”

  “You want me to go all amateur detective and solve the case for him,” I said.

  “That would be the most beneficial outcome. And it is the one you would seek by your nature. Only now, when you ‘solve the case,’ you will report to me, before my court, as a gesture of your contrition.”

  “Which you’ll accept,” I added with as firm a tone as I could manage.

  “Graciously, thus sparing your life.” The smile resurfaced, and I shuddered a little. “To be clear, we have an understanding, yes?”

  “Yes, we have an understanding,” I said. And then he just wasn’t there. I was pretty sure I was going to hate it when he did that.

  “Did we have customers?” my grandfather asked from behind me.

  “Not exactly,” I said. “More like a salesman.”

  “Was war der Verkauf er?” he asked, reverting to his native German. What was he selling? my brain automatically translated.

  “Life insurance.”

  “Ah. Better that you sent him away,” he said. As he turned to go back into the office, I heard him mutter, “Vultures.”

  I kept one eye on the door, hoping Thraxus was wrong, that the cop would never walk into the store. Mitternacht’s Books wasn’t a very easy name to spell. A cop relying on GPS to find us might never get the name right. But, seven minutes later, and yes I counted, an honest cop walked in.

  I could tell by the shiny places on the elbows of his suit jacket and the way it didn’t fit him quite right. Watching Chance get fitted for his school uniform had shown me how an expen
sive suit jacket would fit, and this one fell way short of that. His slacks were kind of frayed at the hems, and he wore scuffed leather shoes. Crooked cops tended to dress better. They also didn’t have worry lines around their eyes or look around every room they walked into like they were trying to see if someone was going to shoot at them. Hanging out with Chance and Detective Collins, I’d seen plenty of both kinds of cops, and this guy seemed to be as honest as they came.

  “Hi, I’m Detective William Danner, New Essex Police,” he said, flashing his badge and ID. “I’m looking for Lucas Kale.”

  “That’s me,” I said, trying to sound like I was surprised. “What’s this about?”

  “You’re not in trouble, son,” Danner said. “I’m just looking for a friend of yours, kid named Chance Fortunato. You seen him around?”

  “Not for a few weeks,” I said. “He’s up in Boston. Is he in trouble?”

  “Nah, I just wanted to ask him about some folks.” For a moment, Danner’s eyes went distant, then he focused back on me as he pulled a card from his pocket. “If you see him or talk to him, can you have him call me?”

  “I talk to him all the time,” I said. “Maybe I could tell him who you’re asking about?”

  “Yeah,” Danner said slowly. His eyes went distant again before he spoke. “Looking for a priest, Father Jacob. He was abducted by a bunch calling themselves the Disciples of the Fallen, or at least, that’s what they said.” He reached into one of the pockets on the side of his jacket and took out a handful of photos. The first one was of a balding, middle aged man with a round, smiling face in a priest’s collar. He pulled another photo out of the stack. “We think they’re led by this guy, Karl Tobin.” My blood froze in my veins when he laid the picture down. I knew this guy. I’d seen him twice, once on my phone’s screen when he was threatening Wanda, and then when we rescued her and she’d done some kind of faith supernova thing the minute we entered the room. The picture I was looking at showed the long term effects of Wanda’s display of devotion. His face was still thin, chin still sharp enough to poke holes and his cheekbones were high and pronounced. But his right eye was milky and the eyelid drooped. Chance and I even had a nickname for him: Darth Fedora.

  “I’ll ask Chance about him,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.

  “I appreciate it,” Danner said. “Have him call me as soon as possible.” He turned and headed for the door without another word. Whether he had come to the wrong conclusion or not, I couldn’t tell, but I figured why risk it? What I could tell was that his mind had been messed with. The slowing down, the vacant looks while he was talking, all pointed to the kind of soft resistance some people would show when someone tried to mess with their heads. I had seen it last spring when we stopped a girl with a mind control amulet, and over the summer, when we helped Lucinda undo the love spells she’d cast.

  So, I had a mind controlled cop feeding me info on a missing priest, and the most powerful vampire in New Essex threatening to kill my grandfather if I didn’t find him. As an added plus, the guy who the cops thought had the priest was the same guy who had abducted and tortured one of my two closest friends. All while the one guy who should have been able to help me handle all of this was six states away at a new school. Who do you go to for help when things get that weird? Fortunately, I knew the answer to that one. A wizard.

  “Lucas, I’m a little busy right now,” Dr. Corwyn said as I walked into his study. He nodded toward his guest, and Detective Collins raised a hand in greeting.

  “Hey, Kale,” Collins said. “What’s up?”

  “Officially, nothing much,” I said. “Unofficially, Dr. C, no, you’re not too busy to help me out. Thraxus just threatened to kill my grandfather if I don’t find some missing priest for a New Essex cop.” I dropped into the other chair across from Dr. Corwyn’s desk and set my backpack down beside it. Dr. Corwyn gave me a sideways look, then gestured for me to keep going. Boy, did I.

  “Damn it, I knew Danner would screw this up,” Collins said once I finished. “He was only supposed to talk to Chance. I never would’ve told him about Chance if I thought he was gonna bug you or Wanda about one of his cases.”

  “He was trying to get in touch with Chance, but I think Thraxus did a number on his brain,” I said. “He was displaying soft resistance cues.”

  “Soft resistance,” Dr. Corwyn said slowly. “That’s from one of Chance’s lessons. Have you been eavesdropping on us, Lucas?”

  “No, your lessons are kinda hard to miss, sir,” I said. “In case you missed me being in your AP Science classes, I have a high IQ and a damn good memory. Half the time, I get what you’re trying to teach Chance before he does. I just can’t do magick.”

  Dr. Corwyn shook his head and smiled. “Sidney was placed at Kennedy High School to be a magnet for students with even the slightest bit of magickal talent, and you were in Sidney’s class before I took over. I don’t think any of that is random. Wanda is already doing her year and a day with her mother’s coven, and we know she’s Goddess touched. Odds are good you can do magick.”

  “That’s great and all, but it still doesn’t help me find Darth Fedora.”

  “It might,” Dr. Corwyn said. “There is a group of vampires working in New Essex, but the Council is being denied permission to interfere. In fact, I’ve been under surveillance for the past few days to make sure I don’t get any ideas. But if Thraxus invited you to get involved, we may have an inside track.”

  “Invited isn’t the word I’d use,” I said. “Any idea of what these outside vamps want?”

  “No idea, but I get the impression that some of the local brood are more than happy to let them do it. The resistance Thraxus is facing in his own court might be what’s behind that. I’ll run interference with the Council and get you any info I can.”

  “In the meantime,” Collins said, “I can ask around the local fang-bangers and see what I can turn up.”

  “They won’t tell you anything,” Dr. Corwyn said. “But Lucas, on the other hand…” He turned to me with a slight grin. “I know there are vamp groupies at Kennedy. With a little work, you could probably get in good with them.”

  “Great,” I muttered. “Guess it’s time to update my look.”

  The vampire lifestylers had dubbed them the Black Swans, a trio of Goth girls who were dating guys in the vamp scene. Even among my Goth friends, these three were like royalty. They invariably wore black dresses, and plenty of black makeup. Eyeliner, lipstick, nail polish, they had it covered. And they made it look good. Before this particular Wednesday, I’d never been able to work up the courage to so much as talk to them. But today…today there was more on the line than my dignity. Today there was no small talk.

  “Ladies,” I said as I sat down at their table before first bell. One of them, Lyressa, arched one slender black brow at me as their conversation stopped.

  “Good morning,” Dahlia, the shortest one said. “What brings you to our parlor?”

  “I need a makeover.” Seeing all three of them break into predatory smiles was almost enough to make me cut and run. Almost. “And an invite into the Red Parlor,” I finished, committing myself. It had taken me all night to dig that name out of social groups online, but I’d managed to find it by following up on references in selfies and tags.

  “What’s in it for us?” Rose, the third Swan asked.

  “Access,” I said.

  “To what?”

  “Have you ever heard of a place called the Bazaar?” Now I could see teeth in their smile. The Bazaar was one of the few places where the Veiled and the cowan worlds mixed, however covertly. The real trick was in finding it, so offering up the location was the Holy Grail to bleeding edge groupies like the Swans.

  “You’re going to look better than Brad Pitt ever did,” Dahlia promised as she scribbled something on a sheet of paper and tore a section off. She handed it to me with a wink. “Go to this address at nine tonight. And don’t tell anyone else where you’re going.” I nodded
and got up.

  “We don’t use our real names,” Rose said. “What name will you be using?”

  “Midnight,” I said, using the English translation of my grandfather’s name. I headed for my locker, phase one complete. Wanda was waiting for me at my locker with a frown on her face. She wore a black schoolgirl dress and a red button down silk shirt with a black tie and black lace gloves. Red stockings and her knee high black boots completed the look.

  “Where were you this morning?” she asked as she twirled one of her pig-tails. This semester, she’d dyed the right side of her hair red, and the left side black.

  “Going undercover,” I said softly. “And I need your help.”

  “Sure,” she said. “You know I’ll do anything I can.”

  “I need you to act like you’re mad at me.”

  The frown hadn’t completely left her face, and now it came back hard. “Lucas, I don’t know if I can sell that. Why are you going undercover?”

  “I wish I could tell you, but I’m afraid it might make things worse. I just need you to act like I’m all moody and harsh with you. Like…the day after my parents’ funeral. I need to sell the whole broody, angsty, wanna-be a vampire act.” Saying those words left a harsh feeling in my chest, and I could see that she remembered as clearly as I did what an asshole I was that day. Her eyes went misty, and she nodded before she turned and walked away. After that, being moody and broody for the rest of the day was easy.

  The address Rose gave me turned out to be an abandoned funeral home in the old Joplin district. The outer windows had been boarded up, and her directions led to a delivery entrance at the rear. Of course, in a funeral home, this delivery entrance was the one where dead people showed up. The first thing that struck me was that this was no amateur operation. I was met at the door by a man in his thirties who looked like he had done his accessorizing through Smith and Wesson. He carried a boxy submachine gun, and had a pistol holstered under his arm. His right hand stayed on the grip of the sub gun while he looked me over in my black great coat, black t-shirt and black jeans, and for extra toughness, black hiking boots.