by Karen Mead
Sam’s eyes widened. SOME of his cards? He has more?
Eugene announced his presence by clearing his throat. “I apologize for the mess as well. Normally I wouldn’t let him keep all these boxes out at once, but”— and here his eyes narrowed at Ethan—“he keeps telling me he’s almost done.”
“I am almost done!”
Eugene looked unconvinced, but turned away from the boy and towards Sam. “Will you step into my office?”
Sam nodded and began picking his way through the cardboard obstacle course. Ethan frowned.
“I was going to show him my best deck,” the boy said, and the obvious disappointment in his voice made Sam’s heart ache, just a little bit. He smiled at his young familiar.
“I’ll make sure to see it before I leave,” he said, and Ethan beamed.
Eugene’s office was impressive, decorated with fine paintings and various knick-knacks that looked museum pieces. Miri had told him that Eugene had replicated his office from the Buckley’s New York apartment almost exactly, and Sam had no reason to doubt her. He sat down on the antique bar stool in front of Eugene’s desk, strangely feeling more comfortable than he would in a plush chair. It seemed like the vampire’s tastes somehow suited him.
Eugene sat down and shuffled some papers, seemingly thinking about where to begin. Sam would be patient; Eugene’s thoughts were worth waiting for. Finally, Eugene pulled a manila folder out of a drawer and passed it across his desk to Sam. When Sam opened the folder, inside was a page cut out from a newspaper.
“Have you ever seen this man?”
Sam studied the image. It was full-color, so either it was from a modern newspaper, or it was from the Lifestyles section of an older one. The picture featured a grinning older man in a sleek grey suit, flanked by a pretty young woman in a cocktail dress. The man’s face looked weathered, but in a way that many women probably considered handsome, and he had mischievous blue eyes that made him seem young at heart, despite the grey hair. The caption read O’Donnel Donates Another New Wing To Auburn Hospital.
“No. Who is he?”
Buckley steepled his fingers. “A rather well-connected vampire I know.”
Sam studied the picture more closely. “You really can’t tell from this that he’s a vampire at all, even though he’s showing his teeth.”
“I’m sure Thaddeus would take that as a compliment,” said Eugene. “He contacted me yesterday. He would like to pay a visit to our fair city this week.”
Sam frowned. “Will he be bringing his own food supply?”
“No doubt. Whatever his other flaws, he would never stoop to attacking humans in someone else’s territory; of that, you can be sure.”
Sam handed the manila folder back across the desk. “Sounds like you have a history with this guy.”
“I have more history than I know what to do with.”
Sam frowned. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t there no reason to involve me? He’s a vampire, and he wants to visit; unless he makes a nuisance of himself, it’s fine if he deals with the local vampires, meaning you. He shouldn’t merit my personal attention.” Sam felt like an utter windbag saying it, but it was true; knowing who he had to entertain versus those he could safely ignore was of paramount importance. He would be just as happy to entertain no one, but etiquette was too important in politics, and couldn’t be taken lightly.
Carefully, Eugene put the folder away. “Normally, that would be true. Except...” He seemed to struggle for what to say next.
“Come on, Eugene. The suspense is ridiculous.”
“…except, he’s the only living person ever to have attended another blood status hearing. He will be considered an expert witness at your hearing.”
When Sam’s face showed confusion, Eugene continued. “Do you know why half-demons, such as yourself, don’t take the step to become vampires? One would think that it would be useful, to have more than a human lifespan at one’s disposal.”
“Because it doesn’t work. A demon can become a vampire, but loses his magic in the process,” said Sam. He was pretty sure he remembered Serenus telling him that.
“Correct. But we only know that for certain because Thaddeus tested it,” said Eugene. “A few hundred years ago, he made the change hoping that he would be able to keep his abilities as a demon. He was unable to, but since he was dying at the time, he’d had nothing to lose.”
“Interesting,” said Sam, thinking. “To be honest, I’m surprised the court let him live. I would think a vampire running around with all that arcane knowledge would be considered too dangerous.”
“And he is dangerous. But he’s also very, very friendly and charming.” Eugene sighed. “Were it anyone else, they would have been killed the moment they no longer had the power to protect themselves, but he survives. And thrives.”
Sam knitted his brow. “What demon does his clan serve?”
“George Graellen.”
“Ah.” Sam exhaled slowly. “So you’re saying I should give this guy a respectful welcome, otherwise he could make my life difficult at the hearing?”
“Well, in theory, nothing you do at this point should affect his impartial judgment in the service of the court,” said Eugene. “However.” He left the rest unsaid.
“He’s going to want something, and whatever he wants is going to be something I don’t want to give him,” said Sam, starting to get angry again. “There’s no way he’s just going to show up, have a few drinks, say ‘nice entourage you have here’ and go on his merry way.”
“It’s very possible,” Eugene admitted, “But I think you should hear him out, at the very least. If he makes a request, you can always deny it; but if he has a chip on his shoulder because he thinks you didn’t show him the respect he is due, that could be very, very inconvenient for you.”
“I can see where this is going, though. He’s probably going to give me some kind of ultimatum, and if I don’t agree, he’ll really be gunning for me at the hearing. It may be safer not to put myself in that position.”
Eugene leaned forward and spoke quietly, so quietly that Sam had to strain to hear him. “I know it’s not my place to make this decision for you. All I can do is advise. And right now, I strongly advise granting him an audience. It’s possible that what he wants will be something you’re willing to relinquish.”
“I wish I could believe that,” said Sam. He sighed. “Listen, do you mind if I talk to Serenus? I’d like to get his take on this.”
“Not at all, go ahead.”
Sam took his phone out of his pocket and dialed the professor, expecting his oldest friend to greet him with some sly remark that would set his teeth on edge. Instead, the phone rang several times, then there was a prerecorded message that said that the user that Sam was trying to reach was out of range. Sam hung up and frowned, looking at his phone.
“That’s strange. Ser usually answers his phone, and I’m getting a message saying that he’s out of range.”
“Are you concerned for Dr. Zeitbloom’s wellbeing?”
“A little, yes,” said Sam, thinking. “There’s no reason why he should be out of range. He wouldn’t go anywhere without telling me.” Would he?
“If you like, I can send someone to the professor’s apartment to see if anything is amiss.”
Sam turned off his phone and shoved it back in his pocket, getting up off the bar stool as he did so. “Please do. Figures, the one time I actually want his opinion….”
Chapter Fifteen
Just by random luck, the week before court was going to be a pain academically. Cassie was going to have a chem test on Tuesday, a calc test on Wednesday, and her Social Studies project was due Friday. While it was a heavy load, it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle; the project was the real killer, but she already had all of her research materials, so it wasn’t like she was starting from scratch.
She tried to listen to Mr. Golding talking about some kind of experimental play in her first period English class on Friday, but she
kept thinking about how she was going to budget her time for her other classes.
Tonight’s all chem study, tomorrow I have DG but I don’t need to study for calc that much so it’s fine, then Wednesday and Thursday can be totally devoted to finishing Soc. Oh, and I have a Health quiz on Thursday, but that’s a joke; I’ll just memorize my answers during lunch right before….
When her attention finally returned to Mr. Golding, she soon realized that her entire plan was screwed.
“…and remember, your Drama Projects are due Friday. See me after school if you need any last-minute suggestions on that,” Golding said, then the bell rang. Cassie was frozen in her seat with panic, so Mike poked her with a pencil eraser.
“You okay?”
She turned sideways in her chair to face him. “Weren’t our Drama Projects due in April?”
Mike smirked at her. “They were, until the midterm when Golding said he was moving them up because we were two weeks ahead. You forget?”
Yes, she had forgotten, and it was awful, because there was no way she could do both projects in the same week. Even though she had a head start on social studies, it would still be time-consuming, and writing English essays always took her a while. The Drama Project was a complicated endeavor involving comparing and contrasting different elements of six different plays, and if she was remembering right, it called for at least four essays.
Seeing the devastation on her face, Mike’s smile faded. “Hey, it’s not the end of the world. You can always pull an all-nighter, if you have to.”
Cassie bit her lip. “Right before court, though?” That was dangerous; she was giddy when she was sleep-deprived. If she went to court after pulling an all-nighter or two, she might say something they would all regret.
Coming to a decision, she began putting her books away. “I’ll talk to Golding after school. I bet he’ll give me an extension.”
Mike slung his backpack over his shoulder, looking skeptical. “I don’t know, he’s been talking about this project forever. He’s probably not going to be too sympathetic that you forgot. Besides….”
“Look, he probably knows that court is this weekend; maybe he’ll give me a break.”
“I’m going with you,” said Miri, popping up from out of nowhere. Cassie didn’t feel inclined to argue.
“Stay nearby, but let me talk to him alone, okay?” Miri nodded at that; Cassie had long since learned that just because Miri wasn’t immediately visible, that didn’t mean she wasn’t being guarded. It took some of sting out of needing to be watched all the time that Miri wasn’t always obvious about it.
The Buckleys were changing up their guarding assignments as well; sometimes, Miri was at the shop while another of the Buckleys stayed near the school. Cassie didn’t know why they were playing games with the schedule, but they were the professional bodyguards; she had other things to worry about.
The rest of the day seemed to crawl, while Cassie stewed in worry over whether or not Mr. Golding would see things her way. He had been a bit chilly to her recently, when he talked to her at all, but she couldn’t really blame him; he had been the target of a particularly nasty spell, and was obviously traumatized. While it wasn’t Cassie’s fault, he probably associated her with his suffering, and she couldn’t really blame him.
Still, he had always seemed like an eminently reasonable man, and she didn’t really see what difference a week’s extension on her project would make anyway. It was worth a shot.
However, when she approached Golding’s office after the final bell had rung, it was clear she wasn’t the only one with the same idea; Madison Clarke had somehow beaten her there.
“So, like, can I have an extension? I want to do the project, but like, I have no ideas for the critical lens essay,” Madison said. She was looking up at Mr. Golding like she wanted to jump into his arms. Cassie wondered if she really needed the extension, or if it was just an excuse to flirt with her favorite teacher.
Golding, however, barely seemed to be paying attention to her. Once Cassie approached the doorframe, she saw his eyes widen in alarm. “Ah, have you tried rereading the ‘Exploring the Critical Lens’ packet? I’m sure that will help you generate some ideas.”
“But I don’t understand the packet,” said Madison with a pouty expression. Cassie had to roll her eyes. Oh, come on.
“How about this: reread the packet tonight, and highlight any parts you don’t understand. Come back for extra help tomorrow, and I will be more than happy to go over it with you. However, I think you will find that you understand more than you think, once you get started.”
“Okay,” said Madison, turning to go. “I still might need an extension though!” Shooting a sly look at Cassie, she took off down the hall. Golding watched her retreating back for a moment and shook his head subtly, sitting down at his desk. He took out some paperwork and began filling it out, seemingly oblivious to Cassie’s presence.
“Don’t tell me that you don’t understand the packet either,” he said, addressing her without looking up.
“I understand the packet. But um, I need to ask for an extension too.”
At that, Golding did look up, with a quizzical expression on his face.
“See, there’s an important meeting of the Western Court this weekend, and I have a lot of other tests and projects and stuff, and I thought that the Drama Project wasn’t due until April, so….” She trailed off.
He looked back down at whatever he was grading. “Balancing school and extra-curriculars is your responsibility, Cassie.”
Cassie was taken aback by that. “Court is not an extra-curricular.”
“It doesn’t matter. No extensions on this project, and you need to keep better track of your assignments.”
Cassie’s jaw dropped. She hadn’t necessarily expected him to say yes, but this degree of coldness was surprising. He seemed almost…vindictive. She narrowed her eyes.
“Look, I know you’re mad at Sam because of what he did,” she said, dropping her voice. “And it was wrong. But I had nothing to do with it.”
His pen paused at the mention of Sam’s name, but it was another moment before he looked up at her. And when he did, the intensity in his eyes took her breath away. “You think I’m angry at HIM?”
“Ah…well….”
He tossed his pen aside and stood up, hands on the desk. No more icily professional responses now; now, she’d pissed him off. “I’m afraid of him. I’m angry at you.”
“But I didn’t do anything!”
He looked off to the side for a moment before continuing. “Do you know that there was a time, not so long ago, when I would have killed to have been invited to a session of the Western Court?”
Cassie opened her mouth, then realized she had no idea what to say in response to that and closed it again.
“For years, I served Alphonse Liddell and his clan, and it was a long time before they even allowed me into their library. I never asked to be taken to court, because if I did, they would have laughed at me. Still, when I found out that you had been made a familiar, I felt bad for you,” he said.
“You hadn’t chosen this life, the way I had. I thought maybe I could guide you, help you through the worst of the transition.” He seemed to be looking at something far off in the distance. “What I was too stupid to realize at the time is that you didn’t need my help. You were royalty from the moment you were made a familiar.”
This was all too strange for Cassie. He was jealous of her? Really?
“Have you been paying attention at all? Do you know what demons have tried to do to me?” Cassie had to remind herself to keep her voice down. “They fight over me like a chew toy, and other people get caught up in it! It’s awful.”
But he was lost in his revelry, not really hearing her.
“The fact is, you entered this world from the very top, and you have no idea what it’s like for those of us on the bottom. And yet you come to me for favors,” he said bitterly. “What will I get turne
d into this time if I say no, hmm? A dog? A sheep?”
“For the last time, that was an accident.”
His sneer at that was downright malicious, anger and fear warping his handsome features.
“Sure it was. And when he gets angry at me for even talking to you and takes revenge, I’m sure that will be considered accidental as well.”
Cassie couldn’t believe the things that were coming out of his mouth. “He would never do that!”
“You know that’s not true.”
Cassie pushed her hair back off her forehead, tired and aggravated. It wasn’t that Golding didn’t have a point, but he was looking at everything in the worst possible way. Why wouldn’t he listen?
“Maybe this is hard for you to believe, but I still have my pride,” he whispered. “I’m not going to become just another obedient vassal for you and your demon. And if I die for it, better that—”
“John! I need you to just STOP—”
Then she felt a weird sensation, somewhere between a hiccup and an electric shock, and the atmosphere in the room had changed. Cassie looked down at the desk and gasped; it seemed that there was no end to Mr. Golding’s troubles.
Chapter Sixteen
At his usual table in the corner of The Daily Grind, Mike shuffled his most recent deck of Sorcery cards, annoyed.
Was the deck good enough to win a tournament? Yes.
Was it good enough to beat Ethan? Not a chance.
He had beaten the kid before, always at informal games at The Daily Grind, but his margin of victory was getting narrower and narrower. Lately, he’d been making excuses not to play because he was afraid he might lose to an 11-year-old, and he was tired of feeling like a coward.
Jay came over to the table and delivered Mike his regular white hot chocolate. He looked over Mike’s shoulder at the page of recommended deck constructions that he had open on his laptop.
“You’re making a hardcore brown deck?”
Mike took a sip of his hot chocolate, then tabbed down on the page. “Maybe. I need something to beat Ethan. That kid is getting scary good.”
