by Scott Duff
Peter left two contracts on the dresser in my room, ready for my signature. I read through them while I changed, unhurried. These were the papers necessary to take care of Ian and Mike Ferrin. Peter had already signed in the requisite places so my signature was a formality, which was good because his bore the necessary counter-signatures of notaries and witnesses and such. I didn’t have that at the moment, but I signed anyway, for the formality.
When I found Ferrin, he was watching the horses canter around in a field with the boys. He actually looked calm and happy standing there next to his brother and Martin talking so casually. And that made me happy to take him out of the rat race. Well, providing I actually had. MacNamara’s gave him a rep, which meant people might come gunning for him.
“Hey, guys,” I said as I neared.
Apparently, I startled Ferrin, coming up behind them so quietly. He jumped away from the boys, his left hand shooting back and behind as he turned, firing a huge ball of green fiery something that straightened and coiled around my shield. It writhed around me looking to tighten its hold but the Stone was steadfast with its protection. I smiled as I continued toward them and Ferrin recognized me. He tried to backpedal and disperse his spell, but I don’t think he’d ever had to do that. He was having trouble and Marty and Ian’s screams weren’t helping any. I flicked the Night Sword out and let it dine on the green ropes. The spell Ferrin used glowed faintly in my mind as the Sword dispersed its energies. I filed it away, just in case I ever needed such a thing.
Ian was on Ferrin like stink on a polecat once the spell dissipated and Ferrin was too confused to protect himself adequately. I stepped in a grabbed the little man by the waist, pulling him back and repeatedly calling “Whoa” at the same time.
“Calm down, Ian,” I yelled, laughing a bit while Ferrin caught up a bit to what was happening. “Mike was doing what big brothers do. Just settle down. No harm’s done.”
Marty for his part had settled down already, but he’d set off the ward and set the dogs loose so to speak. We were about to be deluged with “help.”
“Marty, can you call them off?” I asked him, confusing Ferrin. He wasn’t used to living under this kind of dynamic field, but I’m sure he felt the probing through the ward. Whoever was in control, either Felix or Gordon, wasn’t trying to be gentle or covert.
“Gordon’s coming anyway,” Marty said vacantly, leaning back on the fence. “Da can’t see you in the wards. That makes them nervous.”
“Okay, not a problem,” I said. “I’ll wait.”
“Don’t scare me like that!” yelled Ferrin. He’d finally composed himself. “I could have killed you!”
“See?” I said to Ian as I set him back on his feet. “He didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe, but I might,” said Gordon from behind us. “Why didn’t you tell us you were back?” Bent over and red-faced, he was breathing heavily after his sprint from the house.
“Hi, Gordon,” I said smiling. I was a happy boy today. “Y’all looked busy when I came in, so I came to check on the boys. Wasn’t planning on setting everything on fire, though.”
“Where have you been?” asked Ferrin. “Ehran didn’t know what happened to you. He’s been a terror the last two days, searching the grounds here and at Dunstan. Where is he, anyway?”
I shrugged. “I presume they’re still in the States. I was able to get Ethan back, but we’re having a disagreement about the rest. They should be along shortly.”
“The States?” Gordon said, shocked. Ferrin looked equally awed.
“Yeah,” I said, “but we knew where we were going.”
“I’m sure that makes all the difference,” Gordon said slowly. “Well, if everything is good here, Da needs us back at the house. We’ve had a bit o’ luck tracing the soldiers through the banks.”
“Good,” I said cheerfully. “I’m sure Peter and Ehran will be quite pleased, but until my brother and I come to terms, I won’t be a part of it.”
All four of them tensed in that instant. It was kind of funny. It wasn’t but it was at the same time. Gordon had no idea what to do right then.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked cautiously.
“No, not really,” I said, shaking my head. “One of us is going to have to change his mind about something fairly important. And frankly, he’s more important to you now than I am so I’m stepping away.”
“Shall I tell him you’re here, then?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” I responded. “I’ll be gone by then and they all know how to reach me. Besides, y’all don’t need to get caught in the middle of our argument. Peter and Ethan already are and that’s two people too many.”
“All right, then,” Gordon said slowly, still incredibly tense.
“I think I’ll go shopping,” I said cheerfully, turning back to the boys. “Is there anything I can get you? I don’t really know when I’ll be back. I mean, I hope soon, it just depends.” It depends on how stubborn my brother will be.
“Ah, speak the devil’s name,” I said. “There’re the guys now.” Kieran was ticked off at me. Otherwise I don’t think he would have bulldozed his way through the lines like he did just now. He was a whole lot more subtle on the way to my house earlier.
“Don’t worry, guys,” I said to Marty and Ian. “I’ll be around regardless. It’s just that, right now, we’re a bit mad at each other. If I stick around, I’m gonna do or say something I shouldn’t. You both have big brothers, you understand.”
Marty turned towards Gordon’s receding back and grinned. Neither of the Ferrins looked like they knew what to do.
“You just need a day off,” Marty said. He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to me. On it was his family name with the main house number and “Martin” with what I assumed was a direct line to his room. Come to think of it, my parent’s house had separate lines, but I just never bothered to learn the numbers. “Just try not to involve the police, ‘kay?”
I tipped the card to my forehead as I ported out. Still this was an absolutely wild feeling, wrapping a portal around myself like that. Being somewhere else in milliseconds. Harris controlled a portal about the size of a dime with flawless precision and stealth. Mine were a touch bigger and ended a little farther away usually. I had to know where I was going to get there, but it turns out I know a lot of places as a consequence of having a “second sight” that never turned off. So I went shopping.
Chapter 49
Peter caught up with me in London while an electronics salesman was demonstrating a “home theater solution” for me. I wasn’t going to buy it; I didn’t even want the demo. All I wanted was the answer to one small question but that was too much to ask. Apparently, with all the bags from high-end retailers I was carrying, I had “sucker” marked on my forehead.
“You already have this system’s bigger, better brother,” said Peter, eyeing the television screen critically from beside me. “Why are you even looking at this?”
“He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I just wanted to know if that remote would work with my system,” I said, turning away from the salesman. “So, how’d you find me, Ferrin’s or Gordon’s?”
He snorted through the smirk. “Knew about those, did ya?”
“Oh please!” I exclaimed. “I’d have had to be unconscious to not feel them.” Really. Gordon’s trace spell touched my skin like a hand briefly touching my neck. Ferrin’s was more like walking through a spider’s web, light but still there.
“Gordon’s, it was easier to see,” he answered, still chuckling over it. “Ethan sent me through. I’m not as adept at portals and that kind of travel as the three of you and I didn’t think advertising to Kieran where you were was a good idea.”
“Probably not,” I said, smiling at the salesman as we started strolling through the store again. I didn’t feel bad about it. After all, I did tell him at the outset that I wasn’t interested in a “home theater solution.”
I extinguishe
d Gordon’s trace, but left Ferrin’s for now. They meant well and if this made them feel better for a short while, I’d stay tagged for them.
“He’s driving everybody nuts, by the way,” he said. “Harris won’t come in the same room with him. Kieran scares him without you around and he admits it. And I have to admit, he has been a bit… flaky.”
“Flaky?”
“Well, I haven’t known him long enough to know what’s truly unusual for him,” Peter said with a shrug, “so, yeah, flaky.”
“I suppose that’s true of me, too,” I said. I pushed the bags I was holding onto the pile I’d started earlier beside the gate of the Pacthome. I’d discovered this amazingly convenient method of package delivery when faced with the lunch crowds in Dublin. I’d thought about dropping the bags through a portal onto the bed in my room at the Cahill’s, but figured the energy fluctuations would cause too many disturbances for them not to notice. This way, the door was basically always open with nobody to “catch” me.
We walked around the department store for another hour and a half. I had a good time with Peter, just doing much of nothing, just hanging out. One of the difficulties of being able to see people’s auras is that you know their emotional states at any given time. If they don’t like you, you know. If they’re bored, you know. It makes spending time with someone far more enjoyable when you can see they’re enjoying it as well. And Peter was having a good time and relaxing. With the month we’ve had, both of us needed it.
We took a cab to a small restaurant where the dress code didn’t require coats and ties. I suppose we could’ve just faked it, though. Peter “adjusted” my passport to make me four years older. He made me promise not to get drunk first, naming some unreasonable fear of waking up in Australia or someplace and not being able to get back. It made sense to me not to try any major magic when under the influence of alcohol or other drugs. I hadn’t thought about it before that. No reason to, really. Now it was just a bottle of wine with dinner and neither of us felt the need to over-imbibe. It was an incredibly enjoyable evening.
Peter’s cell chimed lightly as I was paying the bill. Glancing at the display, he excused himself and answered the call with, “Hold on a sec, I’m in a restaurant.” I followed him out to the street a few minutes later, staying back about twenty feet, giving him both time and space to finish his phone call. It didn’t take long.
He hung up and walked back to me, preoccupied. We walked slowly down the street as I waited for him to tell me about the call. I scanned farther down the road and didn’t much like what was down there. Actually, it made me feel rather lonely, looking down that street. It made me start thinking about where I was going to spend the night. Brought back memories of waiting endless nights at home for Mom and Dad to come and get me.
“Whoa, Captain Melancholy, don’t go using those super powers just yet,” Peter said, throwing an arm around my shoulder and turning me around. “I need a favor.”
I turned, expectant. I could leave melancholy alone for a bit longer.
“I need to meet a guy to get some account information,” Peter said this part with confidence. The next part, he seemed a bit squeamish about. “The place he picked is actually a place I used to go fairly often a little over a year ago. Um, not really that difficult to understand why since that’s the club we broke up at.” Peter was flushed by that point, both in his face and in his aura. It was kind of cute on him.
“Oh, you’re kidding!” I said surprised both that I got it and that he was embarrassed by it. “You have to go meet your ex at the bar you broke up in? Who’s being the bitch here, you or him?” Yeah, I grinned. This was funny, regardless of whose side I was on.
“He’s trying to be, but that’ll only work if I let it,” he said, happy that I was getting the gist of his problem. “That’s why I need a favor. Would you mind going with me? I don’t care what he thinks, but there are other people who’ll be there that I’d like to remain friendly with.”
“Is that all?” I said. “I thought you were going to ask me to hang him off the side of Big Ben or something. Sure, that’s no problem. You may have to coach me on things, though. I’ve never been in a bar before.”
Peter grinned. He grinned big. “Just stay close and you’ll be fine. And say ‘No thanks’ a lot, because you will get hit on, trust me.”
A smoky gray Rolls Royce pulled up to the curb next to us and waited. The windows were deeply tinted but our changed vision allowed us to see the driver was the only occupant of the vehicle, a large sturdy gentleman in his mid-forties. Peter opened the rear passenger door and gestured for me to get in.
“Hello,” I said cheerfully to the driver as I slid across the bench seat. Peter moved in beside me.
“Hi, Danny. Been a long time,” said Peter, just as cheerfully.
“Yes, it has, Mr. Borland. Good to see you again, sir,” replied Danny, politely, his voice surprisingly high for his size.
“’Mr. Borland, sir,’ should I be impressed?” I asked with a gleam in my eye and the hint of a giggle in my voice.
Peter guffawed. “Dillon wishes he has your bank accounts,” he said, shaking his head. He pushed a baffle between us and Danny, to give us privacy. “Dillon has a number of reasons for doing this for me. His best reason is the forty thousand pounds I’m paying him for it.”
“Cash?” I interrupted him, just a little shocked he was carrying that much. “On you?”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “And he only gets that if this pans out like he claims. I’m not stupid.” In a much smaller voice, flushing in embarrassment, he added, “Well, twice, anyway.”
I chuckled and Peter’s blush deepened. “I’m sure some poet has said something quite pithy about that somewhere. Let’s just say my time will come and leave it at that,” I said in a weak attempt at consolation.
Smiling, he went on, “Other than that, I can’t tell if he’s trying to get at me or to me. He found out I was hiring people in the States but couldn’t find out why, so he figures I’ve got money to burn right now. He has difficulty with the concept of a ‘startup company,’ so he thinks I’ve found a sugar daddy in the grandest of American Southern style.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Peter knew it was funny. Danny didn’t know what was going on, ducking his head in the rearview mirror like a contortionist to see what we were doing that that kept him from hearing. Which only made it funnier to me. The whole concept of Peter as a “kept man” was still hilarious for two reasons. The simpler of the two is he had money, or his family did. Money just wasn’t an issue. The other reason is that Peter just isn’t that simple. He is too curious about things to sit around living up to someone else’s expectations. Look at the way he’s latched on to the crap that’s been going on around him now.
I also pointed out that there were three microphones planted around the back cab of the car. One was hidden as a button in the back of the seat in front of us. The other two were woven underneath the fabric of the back window. They were all invisible to the naked eye, mostly. Peter rolled his eyes at them and it looked like he was about to fry all three of them but stopped.
“You gotta learn sometime, I guess,” he muttered. He swept his hand toward Danny, bringing the baffle down. Danny jerked when he suddenly heard my laughter in the cabin.
“So I’m a what? Surely I’m a tad young to be a sugar daddy,” I said, not making it through the sentence without laughing twice. “Or should I have Danny stop some place so I can buy you something pretty?”
The backhand to the gut was expected and I laughed through it. “I’m sorry,” I pleaded, “but the whole idea of you as a househusband is just ludicrous. You’d go crazy. A husband, I understand. Someone to share your life with, I totally get that. But who in their right mind thought you could be happy by just waving a pretty bauble or a silk shirt at you? He couldn’t have known you very well at all and certainly he couldn’t see all of you.” That was more to tell Peter I understood that we wer
e going into a totally mundane, normal, non-magical situation than anything else. It didn’t hurt that it stroked his ego at the same time.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, turning slightly to face me in his seat. “But it took me a little time to recognize that. Dillon can be quite… magnetic when he wants to be. And you are just supposed to be you and nothing more. I told him I was here with my friend and business partner and that all of my partners were straight. He chooses to disbelieve me.”
“Anything I should know about, then? ‘Don’t go through the green door’ or anything like that?” I asked still full of humor at this whole situation.
“Nah, just don’t be shocked by anything you see. Dillon’s place can get a bit racy,” Peter said, relaxing back into the seat now that I hadn’t freaked out about going into a gay bar. He went on to talk about the place in more detail, enough that I was thoroughly confused with just the terminology of the subculture. We finally pulled up in front of the bar in just under forty-five minutes, making me wonder when Danny started out.
There was a long line of people trying to get into the bar when we left the car and Danny pulled away. We were greeted with boos and catcalls when the bouncers at the door let us in with a cheerful smile and a nod. Peter ignored the queue while I shrunk in behind him nervously. The front doors opened up into a darkened hallway designed to look like a mineshaft. The lighting was peculiar in blue and purple, highlighting the railroad ties used for crossbeams. The smell of old tobacco, sweat, testosterone, alcohol, and a number of other chemical substances hung heavily in the air. The beat of the music could be heard from the front door, heavy and thumping. Further in, the beat was even heavier and melodies could be heard.
For me the most interesting part was the men. Mama woulda skint me ‘live if I eh-ver went in public looking like ninety percent of the men I saw. In general, I couldn’t quite decipher what they were advertising, but since I wasn’t in the target audience, I decided not to pass judgment on the goods or the packaging. I admit it made more sense when the hall opened up to the main room. This was a bacchanalia. Now, the guys in the hall made more sense.
