Sons (Book 2)

by Scott V. Duff

  When they pulled back from the case, the only aspect that I could tell that they hadn’t emphasized was the lack of metal or metal tooling involved in its construction. And I had no idea how to show that. I decided on a small touch of my own and filled the case with the sense of my realm as we walked by. It was an easy motion having been there so recently, so fresh in my mind. The case glowed to my eyes, but no one else seemed to notice the difference.

  “At your convenience, gentlemen, we would like to arrange a more intimate meeting,” Peraza said to us just before Fuller opened the French doors. “Once Darius opens those doors, we will likely lose any chance of getting to know you further. Your swift and dramatic entry into world politics has confused most of us. ”

  “I’m sure we can make arrangements to that affect, Señor Peraza,” Kieran said. “We do have homes in both Canada and the United States so we will be available, certainly.”

  “When you’re ready to leave,” Fuller said, hands ready to twist and swing us into the public, “Just let any member of staff know and we’ll have the van ready for you.”

  Then he did it. Fuller opened the doors. The impact of this simple gesture changed my perceptions in that moment. It was an aspect of the Fae Lord, one I hadn’t seen yet. I was sensing more from everyone, but I couldn’t quite tell what it all was.

  “So the sheep were led to slaughter,” muttered Mike, behind me again.

  I was excited at first, to meet so many people. In a relatively short time it became, so many people… That’s when I recognized part of the change, as well as why I seemed to be irritable after such a short time. I was hearing more of them than they were actually speaking, picking up on their “top thoughts” as if they had spoken them. It was annoying. I was being told things three and four times in various ways and frankly, by the time I actually met most of them I was bored with them already.

  It also explained why I knew so much about Morris, the driver from earlier today. I wasn’t sure I liked this. It wasn’t much different from reading someone’s aura, really. I wasn’t actively delving into their minds, plumbing their brains for information, but it wasn’t far removed from what Peter accused me of in London. No, that’s not right. He didn’t accuse me of it—he suggested I do it, and now I could and did without trying. There had to be some way of at least cordoning this ability off.

  After an hour the hectic pace of introduction slowed considerably and Peter left me with Ethan to guard me. He dragged Kieran and Mike around to some of the more and less prestigious people we’d met, setting up political and business contacts with the least scary of us—me being the most scary of us. It was an interesting dichotomy to watch play out for a short time, though, that people both wanted to socialize with me but were scared to death of me, all because of who I was.

  Once our entourage got pulled away and it was just Ethan and me, we were able to blend into the background, become mannequins after a sort. It gave me a chance to hone my newly found skills of mind reading. Or rather, more precisely, dull my skills. I found that I could limit the reach somewhat at least by pulling back on what I felt and thought of as “my personal space,” that two- to three-foot imaginary boundary that everyone has that defines a person from everyone else. My personal space was a little larger than most, about four feet, but I figured with a little time and effort I could shrink it a little more, just like the Faraday cages in the airplanes.

  Letting Ethan lead, we wandered idly around, people watching. We started with the patio, mostly because that’s where we were when Mike ran off after Peter, rummaging through the stack of calling cards he’d been given tonight. I had to admit the late Mr. Fuller had an excellent eye for layout. The gardens were terraced nicely to allow both large and small gatherings. There were several alcoves just off the main paths for tête-à-têtes, plateaus for smaller enclaves, and all of them could be opened up and added to the whole with minor changes to the landscape. Nicely done.

  We stayed clear of the dining room, both because of the display inside and because it was crowded. It would get more crowded if we went in and there’d be no end to the questions I most probably couldn’t or wouldn’t answer or favors wanted like I was Aladdin’s genie or something. The oddest question I found in my earlier mental perusal of minds was some variant of “When will my castle be ready?” which, frankly, floored me. Talk about a sense of false entitlement. I didn’t owe these people even a matchstick and they wanted a castle? On my world? Every person who thought that should be very glad they didn’t voice that question, or even ask to visit. I might have had a bad reaction.

  That left us with the bar and ballroom to meander through. There were a few other rooms in the house that Fuller left open for the party, mostly on this side of the house, but it was getting late and we had an early day tomorrow. Ethan and I decided that we’d kick back in the ballroom for a few minutes then go find the guys and call it a night. Sad, really, since the wall clock read ten thirty.

  The ballroom was setup almost like a small dance bar, or like the only one I’d ever seen. The bar on one end and the dance floor on the other. If it was larger, there might have been another bar. Tables lined the rim of the dance floor and were grouped together near the bar, but this room was for a more sedate and older crowd. The tables were lit with small, domed candles and smoking was apparently allowed but little was done. They were normal height tables and chairs, too, intended for sitting and conversation rather than cruising and showing off.

  We stopped by the bar and I ordered a brandy that my father liked. The bartender didn’t card me and I didn’t offer either. The brandy had an oak flavor that countered its sweetness favorably, not something I’d have often though. For some reason it mellowed the tenor of the room for me. About forty people were there, mostly in pairs or quartets, and most were talking quietly. Ten couples were dancing to the jazz quartet currently playing. A far cry from Dillon’s Mineshaft, there were no strobing lights under the dance floor or spinning mirrored balls suspended from the ceiling. And I could hear myself think, so the music wasn’t nearly loud enough.

  I watched people in the room vacantly, working on avoiding randomly picking up their thoughts. It must have worked, because I didn’t sense his approach and the Stone didn’t move either.

  “Don’t let my dad see that. He’ll have a conniption,” the young man said, coming up beside me and sitting on the table with us. He wore a black suit and tie and held what looked like a tall, watered-down cola that I was pretty sure had more than cola in it.

  “Pardon?” I asked, curious enough to look into his mind. This was Fuller’s kid, his only son, Sean, and he wasn’t supposed to be here. I couldn’t see why exactly without shoving in deeper. There was no way I would do that.

  “He says it’s bad enough that diplomats will bring their children along in the first place, but if he catches you trying to drink in his house, he will have a fit!” he said, grinning like the Cheshire cat, then he chugged his off-color drink down to the ice. “Course, it’s no skin off my nose. I’m all for pissing the old man off. I’m Sean. It’s good to see somebody my own age at one of these museum pieces.”

  “If your dad doesn’t like kids here, why are you here?” I asked.

  Ethan leaned past me to look at Sean. “Seth! Say hello first. Hi, Sean, I’m Ethan and this is my brother, Seth the impolite.” Sean giggled, a little intoxicated. That wasn’t his first off-colored drink, but he was only a little tipsy yet.

  “Sorry,” I said, blushing slightly. “I’ve met so many people tonight, I’ve forgotten who I have and haven’t met.”

  “No worries, dude,” Sean said, smiling. “I just snuck down for some juice. Be right back.” He hopped up and ran to the bar through the dimness.

  “What’s up with him?” Ethan asked quietly, smiling but not really asking.

  “Teenage rebellion,” I answered, needlessly. “He’s just doing it because he thinks he needs to. He’ll get over it in a year or two as long as Fuller isn’t a comp
lete ass.”

  “High hopes for Fuller,” Ethan said, laughing. Sean returned with another glass for him and me. The bartender remembered me, which was nice, but I hadn’t finished even half of my first. Still, I accepted graciously and poured the old into the new and sipped appreciatively. It was a crisp brandy.

  “Have you guys been to many of these?” Sean asked, settling in beside me again.

  “My parents took me to several, but I stayed in the hotel and waited for them,” I said. “This is the first that I’ve attended.”

  “Ehhhh, third, really,” Ethan said. “Thursday counts and so does the Rat Bastard’s party as bad as that was.”

  “Let’s hope this doesn’t end that poorly,” I said, letting the disgust drip from my words.

  “Bad night there?” Sean asked, eyebrows arched and a half-smile creasing his boyish good looks.

  “That would be putting it lightly,” I said but nodding. “Got all my brothers in a really big fight. Lasted a few days.” Killed a few people, tossed a few Queens-in-waiting around. Yeah, big fight.

  “Did you guys get to meet the elf tonight? I can’t seem to find him on the property anywhere,” Sean said.

  “There’s an elf here?” I asked, surprised. I hadn’t felt an elf’s presence in the wards earlier and I was pretty sure that would ping my radar.

  “Swhat Dad said,” Sean replied, slurring slightly. “Some Lord high Muckety-muck Faery who helped them do something in Europe was coming so I was supposed to stay upstairs all night. I haven’t seen an elf before, but all I see in the wards are human. Seward says elves look different under the wards.” He shrugged.

  “I can honestly say I haven’t seen any elves tonight,” Ethan said, smiling and almost bright red in the face. “How about you, Seth? Have you seen any elves? Or maybe even a Lord high Muckety-muck?”

  Ethan’s question caught me trying to cover my own creeping smile with a sip of brandy, resulting in a snort of laughter from me. Let’s just say that brandy can indeed warm the body, especially when it’s snorted down the throat and back up through the sinuses and out the nose—alcohol burns! I was caught between laughter, choking, and searing pain. Luckily, laughter won out quickly but Sean still panicked and was beating my back and asking if I was okay every two seconds.

  “He’s fine, Sean. Settle down,” Ethan cajoled, laughing at me while he took the bulbous snifter and set it aside. With an excellent act of mundane magic, the bartender appeared with a bottle of water and disappeared with the snifter just as quickly.

  “What’s wrong with his aura?” Sean asked. “I can’t see him. Or you. Oh-oh-oh, you have got to teach me that trick. That’s really got to tick Dad off.”

  “Well, it certainly ticked off Seward,” I said, still smiling through the fit. Both Ethan and I looked at the door as Phillips walked into the room, slowly weaving his way through the tables, directly to us. Sean didn’t take the hint.

  “Seward?” Sean asked. “Not Phillips, then? Daddy sent the big dog out? Huh. Wonder how that went.”

  I sat back down on the table again as Phillips stopped behind Sean, crossing his arms on his chest. “You’re not too enthused by Mr. Phillips?” I asked, then chugged a third of the bottle. Ethan snickered quietly.

  “Oh, no, don’t get me wrong. I think Phillips is a perfectly nice, stand-up guy, especially when you know he’s right behind you,” Sean said, turning over his shoulder and leaning back on the table. “You’ll never figure it out, you know.”

  Phillips burst into a smile and said, “On the contrary, Sean, I already have and I have Mr. McClure to thank for that.”

  “What?” Sean and I asked at the same time.

  “Whad I do?” I asked. A second later Sean whirled around to face me, shocked at my admission. Of course his story on us was still really off-kilter.

  “You wrote out his hook,” Phillips said, hitting the last word distinctly. “So when he triggered his little blanking spell to hide the doors opening in the ward, it didn’t work. Imagine.”

  “You let him invoke our wards?” Sean demanded of Phillips in a hoarse and worried whisper. “Does Dad know about this?”

  “I took them from Seward and, yeah, your dad knows,” I told him calmly. “He’s not too happy about it, though.”

  “He told you that?” Sean asked quickly, his eyes searching my face.

  “No, not at all,” I responded. Yep, that’s all you’re getting, kid. Search away.

  “What am I missing here?” Sean asked suspiciously.

  “Do you know who you’re talking to, Sean?” Phillips asked, moving up beside him. “Where you’re not supposed to be in the first place?”

  “I thought it was just some kids my age ditching their parents,” Sean said, deep blue eyes looking forlorn in the dim room, shoulders drooping.

  “I think I’m the Lord high Muckity-muck,” I said, grinning and raising my hand. “What? He didn’t know!” I defended Sean to Phillips’ horrified look. “Just blame it on me anyway. Tell Fuller I invited him down. I knew he was up there, after all.”

  “That would actually be a very good idea,” Phillips said slowly, staring out into space as if doing calculations on a mental chalkboard. I felt a greedy satisfaction from Phillips.

  “Plans involving Seth have a nasty habit of backfiring, Phillips,” Ethan warned him. “Just ask any elf.”

  “You’re seeing elves now, too?” I asked facetiously, knowing he didn’t. “How is it that I’m the one with all the Fae power and I don’t see them?” Ethan chuckled while Sean looked on, baffled, and Phillips reconsidered. I chugged some more water.

  “It’s still a good idea,” Phillips decided. “Maybe the two of you can keep each other out of trouble for a while.” One of his men walked up then and stood a discrete distance away, catching his attention. “Excuse me, please.”

  Sean sat on the table with us again, his nerves shot. “Who are you people?”

  “We told you,” I said, smiling. “I’m Seth McClure and this is my brother, Ethan. My parents aren’t here, though, and I’m afraid we’re the high Muckity-mucks they’re trying to impress.”

  “That you leave out,” he said bitterly. “Make me look like a fool.”

  “Hardly,” Ethan guffawed. “Now Seward, he looked like a fool.”

  Encouraged by the statement, Sean said, “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. Any chance you’d show me how to hide my aura, too?”

  I shrugged, shaking my head. “Sorry, man. We’re not exactly sure how that works. It just sort of happened to us, one by one.”

  “So who are you guys, really? And who’s the guest of honor? One of your family, or what?” Sean asked.

  “Your father’s coming,” I told him, nodding toward the door. “And the guest of honor is Lord Daybreak. That would also be me.”

  Fuller stepped in the door with Peter beside him, Kieran and Mike behind them. Phillips walked up to meet them and Sean started panicking, then turned back to me. Seeing me calm seemed to help him regain his composure. We sat and watched Fuller’s aura streak in sudden anger then fade quickly, contained under concern and alarm. I almost reached out for his mind, but he’d be easy enough to read shortly.

  And he was. Darius Fuller was a suspicious man, at least where his son was concerned. His anger had turned to agitation and curiosity to see how much of Phillips’ story I would back up.

  “Oh, good,” I called as they got closer, standing up. “Just in time. Mike, can I have a card, please? I’m sorry, Mr. Fuller, I didn’t realize that asking Sean to come downstairs would cause so much trouble.” Taking the card Mike held out, I handed it to Sean, giving them both a moment to focus and discover I’d covered for Sean and Phillips adeptly with one sentence. “This is a service because we’re a little hard to get in touch with most of the time, being, um, off-world a lot and we have to change our cell numbers constantly. Give me a call sometime, though, when you have some free time, and we’ll do something. I don’t get a chance to spend t
ime with guys my own age very much.”

  “You got it,” Sean said, grinning. I didn’t know if he’d actually ever do it, but I meant it. He was a good kid and a nice guy. All he had wanted was a friendly face here and I liked him.

  “Seth, we should perhaps call it a night?” Kieran said, questioningly. “We have an early day tomorrow.”

  I nodded in agreement and Fuller jumped into action, waving Phillips forward and saying, “Have the van brought around…”

  “No, please,” I interrupted. “I’ll take care of getting us back to the hotel, thanks. I don’t think I can take another trip through New York City today.”

  Fuller scrunched his face in confusion. “I thought you couldn’t open a portal under my wards?”

  “I couldn’t open an endpoint from across the universe,” I explained. “Local holes are a little easier to handle.” Okay, so opening the portal right there and then in the wall in front of them was probably not the most polite gesture in the world. Like Kieran, though, I was ready to leave. Sean had been the highlight of the night.

  “It has been a most interesting evening, Mr. Fuller. Thank you for your time,” I said. “And please give Mr. Peraza our best.”

  “Most certainly, Lord Daybreak,” Fuller countered. “Meeting with you and your brothers has been an experience. We look forward to our next encounter, Carlos and I.” Oooh, nice diplomacy, he got Peraza in there, too. Good for him!

  Sean stared at the portal edges, studying them while I watched everyone say good night. When he noticed me watching him, he asked, “Lord Daybreak? You’re the Fae king?” I grinned, nodding. “How is that possible?”

  “Ask your dad the story,” I said as Peter and Ethan walked into the portal behind me. “He knows as much as anyone. Give me a call sometime, seriously. It was good to meet you, Sean.” Then I stepped through myself, followed by Kieran and Mike, who were waiting patiently for me, not willing to leave me alone.