Warlock For Hire: Arcane Inc. Book 1

by Sean Stone

  “That boy,” she muttered, shaking her head as she entered the living room. By boy, she, of course, meant her thirty-year-old son.

  “Giving you grief?” I asked. I didn’t care either way but that seemed like the right sort of response. I’ve learned that if I’m going to be seeing people regularly I should pretend to take an interest in their lives. It just makes the relationship a little smoother. Less awkward you know?

  “I’m just trying to do the house up nice. I want him to move into the guest room for a week or so while I redecorate his room,” she explained.

  “I don’t want my room redecorated!” he yelled from upstairs. Then to my displeasure, I heard him descending towards us. Like his mother, he was not a large man, he was rather small, and yet the noise he made could rival a hippopotamus.

  “You can’t keep it like that. It’s grotty!” she shouted back, turning to him as he entered the room. His curly blonde hair was a mess and he was only wearing a pair of grubby looking boxer shorts.

  “It’s how I like it and it’s my room! I’ll decide if it gets redecorated!” he argued. He had a point there. I would not be impressed if old Doris decided she wanted to redecorate my room. And she would be even less impressed when I refused to let her.

  “I just want the house to look nice for guests.”

  “No guests are going in my room,” he said. He actually quite often had his friends in his room so that was untrue.

  “I’ve done the bathroom. I’ve done the living room. Now it’s your room.”

  “You haven’t done the living room,” he argued, looking around the room in confusion.

  “I did it last week,” she said.

  “It looks the same.”

  “No, before it was pink. Now it’s salmon,” she explained. She had repainted the living room last week, but it did look exactly the same. Neither mine nor Gavin’s eyes could detect the subtle differences between pink and salmon apparently.

  I’d heard enough of their arguing already, so I slunk around them and made my way upstairs to my room. Once inside I locked the door, went to my desk and booted up my laptop. It was time to research Mr Myers.

  Killian Myers; sounds so villainous doesn’t it? You hear the name and know straight away that he’s the bad guy. I mean he’s got the word “kill” in his name! It doesn’t get nastier than that. You probably think it’s odd that I’ve taken such an interest in something that’s bringing me nothing in return. Well, I crave knowledge. To me, knowledge is far better than money. Sure, money helps me live, but knowledge gives me a reason to live. What’s the point in being alive if there isn’t some sort of puzzle to put together, some mystery to solve? I love playing the game, finding the knowledge, and solving the riddle. So that’s what I get in return: answers.

  Killian Myers was not a hard man to get information on. A simple Google search brought up tonnes of results. It turned out that he was the founder of The Myers Group, a stock brokering firm. I headed over to the firm’s website and had a browse. The home page had an introductory video which automatically started as soon as the web page loaded.

  A suave looking gentleman with neat dark hair and a clean shaved face was perched on the edge of an empty desk. He wore a navy suit complete with a lilac pocket handkerchief. “Hello, I’m Killian Myers,” he said in rich dulcet tones. I instantly decided he was a douche. “I’m the founder and CEO of The Myers Group. For me, it all began back in 1997 when I was twenty-one. I had an uncle who dabbled in stocks and he taught me a thing or two about how the market works. After that, I did a little research myself and within a few months, I’d saved up enough money to have a dabble of my own.” He pulled what was quite possibly the most revolting smile I had ever seen. He was so smug, so pleased with himself. “In just a week I had already made double my investment. So what did I do? I reinvested. I repeated that cycle until I made quite a profit. Within a year, I had already started The Myers Group. Nineteen years later and here I am. A billionaire. And you could be too.

  “You see, I’m what they call a natural in this business. I look at the numbers and I can predict the market. I just know which investments are worth it. I know when to buy and I know when to sell. I turned myself into a billionaire in just a few short years. And I can do the same for you. Invest in me, and you’re investing in yourself. If you need any assurances you need only look at my firm’s track record. Here at The Myers Group, we have a one-hundred percent return on investment rate. That means that every single one of our investments has produced a return. No other brokerage firm can boast figures like that. And that’s because no other firm has Killian Myers.” He pointed to himself when he said that. “Call us today if you’re interested in expanding your revenue. Remember, an investment in me is an investment in you.” The video faded to black.

  I sat still for a moment thinking about what I’d just watched. Killian Myers was a smug, self-important twat, but if what he’d said was true then he was also a genius. But it couldn’t be true. Nobody could predict the stock market with one-hundred percent accuracy. It wasn’t possible. The best mathematicians in the world would never be able to pull it off. I left his website and did a little outside research. He was telling the truth. Every website I visited confirmed his one-hundred percent return on investment rates. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Neither could anybody else. Nobody could explain how he did it, but they couldn’t argue with the fact that he did. The Financial Services Authority had investigated the Myers Group countless times, but every time they’d come up short. He’d been accused of insider trading and even, somehow, manipulating the market. But there was no evidence of any foul play. He really was a natural stock broker.

  All of my research only left me more confused, though. What did a billionaire from London want with a witch in Maidstone? That question was now more pertinent than ever. Maybe he used witches to help him manipulate the stock market magically. The FSA would never be able to detect that. But in order to use magic to corrupt the entire stock exchange would require an inordinate amount of power. I’d felt Ashley’s power, I’d had it inside me, and there was nothing special about it. She wasn’t a particularly gifted witch. From what I could tell she was average at best. So why would he come all this way for her? If he needed magical assistance then why not look closer to home. There must be over a hundred witches between London and Maidstone. I needed to do more research, but it was the kind of research that I was unable to do. I needed specialist help.

  When I need to do research I go on Google. When Google fails me I go to Matt. Matt is my oldest, and arguably, only friend. He’s also a genius on the computer. He works for some tech company repairing computers for shit money. They have no idea how badly they’re wasting him. Matt isn’t just a computer repair guy, he’s also a hacker. If there’s a system, he can hack it. I’ve been to him on several occasions when I’ve needed help and he hasn’t failed me yet. It’s not just hacking he does, he can use a computer to do pretty much anything. So if there was some secret Killian Myers info out there that could help me solve this mystery then he would find it with just a few taps on his keyboard. Obviously, he does more than just tap his keyboard, but I don’t know what he does so I can’t explain it to you.

  I went to visit Matt the following morning. His house was small — low paid job remember? — and cluttered. The living room was smaller than my bedroom and it was bulging with stuff. A sofa and a chair dominated most of the space, but then a coffee table had been wedged in the middle of the room, between the sofa and television, leaving only a narrow walking space to move through the room. Apparently the coffee table had been Emma’s idea — she’s his girlfriend.

  Matt knew why I’d come and took me straight upstairs to where the magic happened. Computer magic, not magic magic, and certainly not sex, you dirty bastard. The bedroom was roughly the same size as the living room. There was just enough room for a double bed, a dresser and a desk that held all of his tech stuff. There was a PC, two laptops, a couple o
f tablets and god knows what else. Where he got the money for it all was beyond me.

  “So what do you need?” He asked. He was sitting in the chair that was lodged between his bed and his desk. It was on wheels but there was nowhere for it to roll. I was sitting on the end of his bed.

  “You ever heard of Killian Myers?” I asked.

  “Nope,” he replied and shook his head. That didn’t surprise me unless a person was someone in the tech world, or off one of his TV shows, Matt hadn’t heard of them.

  “Well, he’s a very successful stockbroker. I need to know his secrets,” I said.

  “Why?” Matt looked at me with confusion.

  “He’s wrapped up in something I’m working on and I need to know how and why.”

  “Need to know or want to know?” he asked raising his eyebrows questioningly. He knew me too well.

  “Both,” I replied.

  “Why do you need to know?”

  “Because I want to,” I admitted. “Can you find out?”

  “Is this one of your, you know, weird things?” By weird things he meant supernatural. Matt was just a regular old human but he was fully aware of what I was and what I did. Supernatural stuff still made him uncomfortable, though, like many humans, he was just terrified of anything that couldn't be explained by good old science.

  “Yes. That’s not a problem is it?” I asked.

  “I guess not. Just as long as I don’t get caught up in it,” he warned. “Emma’s still terrified that that vampire might come back.” About a year ago I’d been looking into a vampire who’d come to town. He’d learned that Matt had been digging things up and paid him a visit. Nothing bad had happened, though.

  “He didn’t do anything to you,” I reminded him.

  “Because he couldn’t get in, but he stood on the doorstep all night!” Matt exclaimed. One of the few things that fiction got right is that vampires cannot enter a residential property without permission. I don’t know why and it drives me crazy, but that’s the way it is with supernatural matters, there just aren’t many explanations. I’ver learned to live with it. Albeit unhappily.

  “I got I rid of him didn’t I?”

  “No! The sun came up and he ran off!” Matt said.

  “But he never came back again,” I reminded him. I’d scared him out of town. Even monsters of the night are scared of something.

  Matt mumbled something under his breath and turned to his computer. He started hammering away at the keys. “If there’s anything to find on this Myers guy then I’ll find it. Someone as high profile as him will be pretty protected, though. I’m going to have to do some real digging. Come back in a few days, okay? And make sure you don’t lead anybody to me this time. Emma won’t appreciate it.”

  I left Matt to do his magic whilst I went off to do some of my own. I still needed to perfect an immunity for my mind control potion. Plus, I needed to find some work to wrangle me some more cash.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I managed to get a few paid jobs which kept me ticking over, but most of my time over the next few days was spent developing potions. If you haven’t figured it out yet that’s a hobby of mine. I’ve created many a concoction which I’m pretty proud of, but nothing as spectacular as the mind control one. Turns out it isn’t as spectacular as I thought, though. I found another opportunity to test it out and discovered that it wears off in about ten minutes. That meant the instructions I gave to Shay were most probably forgotten about now. Of course, I doubted he’d be returning to Muggs, the demonstration I gave should be more than enough to keep him away.

  Matt called a few days after I’d visited him and told me that he’d found a big fat nothing. I was shocked. Matt never found nothing. He was the best computer guy I knew. If there was something on the internet then he could find it. And everybody had something on the internet; he taught me that, he said it was impossible to keep off the web nowadays, even if you lived in a cave. Why anybody would want to live in a cave is beyond me, but each to their own.

  So, with no further leads, I pretty much forgot about Killian Myers and Ashley Sheridan. I didn’t actually forget, that’s impossible. I never forget an unsolved problem without magically forcing myself to, but I did put it from my mind. It managed to creep back in from time to time, but for the most part, it as gone.

  I was in Muggs, just tucking into a gourmet burger when an unscheduled visitor arrived. Guess who it was? That’s right, Ashley Sheridan. She slipped into the seat opposite me silently and then looked around with the same nervous expression that I’d come to associate with her.

  “Afternoon,” I said before I shoved an onion ring into my gob. I decided, this time, to play it cool. I’d tried getting answers out of her before and had got nowhere. Maybe if I acted a little more nonchalant about things she’d be more forthcoming.

  “I need a spell,” she said quietly.

  “How did you know I’d be here?” I asked. She raised an eyebrow pointedly and said nothing. She had a point, it didn’t take much to figure out this was the easiest place to find me. “Fair enough. Why don’t you do the spell yourself?”

  “I’ve tried. I don’t have the knowledge.” It was obvious to me that she was more than little embarrassed at having to admit that. She was clearly a proud witch. “I’ve tried looking for an existing spell, but haven’t been able to find anything.”

  “It’s rare then. What are you after?” I asked, continuing to stuff chips down my gullet.

  “Invincibility.” I stopped chewing and stared at her. I imagine that the look on my face made me look pretty stupid but I didn’t care. Invincibility is not an easy thing to produce. Trust me, if it were then I’d have it already. There are some things that are almost impossible for anybody less than extraordinary. Invincibility, immortality, eternal youth to name a few. I said before that magic is fluid and can be moulded to produce the desired effect. Well, that isn’t true in all cases. If you want to create something like invincibility it requires a pretty massive ritual. Your choices are either find one that’s already been written or write your own. I can write spells and rituals but not of this magnitude. I mean, I’ve never tried before so I could be underestimating myself, but I doubt it. I wasn’t quite ready to admit that to Ashley, though. Admitting the limits of your ability is a touchy subject for most sorcerers.

  “Has this got something to do with Killian Myers?” I asked. Her face contorted into one of horror as she desperately tried to figure out what to say next.

  “What? How do you know about that?” she demanded.

  “Is it for protection? You want to be invincible so he can’t hurt you?” I reached for another onion ring but Ashley pushed the plate out of my reach and leaned forward aggressively.

  “How do you know about Myers?” she asked again, slowly and quietly through gritted teeth. I looked longingly at my plate where my burger remained untouched.

  “Alright, alright,” I said holding my palms up in surrender. “I followed you to Costa last week. I overheard the conversation with the big fellow.”

  “You mean you eavesdropped. You had no right to do that,” she said. She pulled back, shaking her head. I could see that she wanted to storm out, or maybe even slap me, but she couldn’t because she still needed me. Thankfully, because I did not want to get slapped.

  “I was curious,” I shrugged. “You were being so secretive and odd.”

  “It was none of your business!” she almost shouted.

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry, alright?” I wasn’t really sorry. Not even a little bit. “Can we move on?”

  She folded her arms over her chest and glared at me. “I suppose we’ll have to.”

  “Right. So, you want me to make you invincible?” I clarified.

  “No. I want you to provide me with a spell to make somebody invincible. One that I cast,” she corrected. That was interesting, it meant that the spell was not for her.

  “Well, no offence, but you probably aren’t powerful enough. If you can�
�t write a spell, you probably won’t be able to cast it. And this isn’t an easy spell, it’s a full-blown ritual. We’re taking moon phases, rare ingredients, dark objects and all that jazz,” I explained. “Why don’t you just explain to me what’s going on?”

  “It’s not your concern.”

  “I’m making it my concern. That’s the price of my help. I don’t want money, I want answers.” I did want money, but at that moment, answers were more important to me. Sometimes my nosiness really gets in the way of eating.

  “He wants me to make him invincible,” she said, after much consideration.

  “Killian Myers?” She nodded. “Why does he want that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t explained his reasons to me,” she said sourly.

  “Why you? Of all the witches he could’ve gone to why you? You don’t strike me as being that remarkable. No offence,” I quickly added.

  “Some taken,” she said and shot me a glare. “I don’t know why he wants me to do it, but he said it had to be me.”

  “Interesting,” I said, as I mulled it over.

  “So, how’s he forcing you to work for him? You don’t strike me as the sort who’d do it for money, so what’s he got on you?”

  “My mum,” she said and her voice choked up a bit. “He said if I don’t do as he says he’ll have her killed. I thought if I didn’t have magic anymore then he’d leave me alone.”

  “That’s why you came to me.” It made sense why she’d been so hesitant and upset now.

  She nodded. “But he just sent me to get it back. Said if I refused my mum would die.”

  “Why don’t you go to the police?”

  “And say what? Killian Myers, the billionaire stockbroker, is holding my mother hostage unless I cast a spell to make him invincible?” she asked sarcastically.