Warlock For Hire: Arcane Inc. Book 1 Page 5

  “Alright, stupid question,” I admitted.

  “I threatened to curse him, but he said that if anything happened to him then his men would still kill my mum. And when my dad got back from his business trip they’d kill him too.”

  “Well he sounds like a nasty piece of work,” I said. He’d seemed so charming on his website.

  “Yeah. He has men watching my house. Everywhere my mum goes they follow. One wrong step from me and she’s dead. And she doesn’t even know they’re there.”

  “You haven’t warned her?”

  “Would you?”

  I shook my head. Warning her would only scare her. She was better off not knowing that the proverbial grim reaper was following her every step she took. My own parents are dead so I don’t have to worry about things like this happening to me. I’ll probably go into them in a bit more detail later. But then, my own parents weren’t supernatural. I assumed Ashley’s were.

  “Doesn’t she have magic to defend herself with?”

  “Well, yeah, but magic didn’t really help me.”

  “Good point,” I mumbled. Although, I wasn’t sure it was a good point. Maybe if I put my magic to work then I could put a stop to the tyrant that was Killian Myers.

  “So will you help me?” she asked. Her face was tilted down and her eyes peered up at me pleadingly. How was I supposed to refuse that puppy dog look?

  “Sure.”

  “And you’ll do it for free?” I was already regretting that promise. This kind of a job was worth hundreds. I nodded all the same. A deal was a deal.

  “But I won’t write the ritual. I’ll do you one better. I’ll save your mum and get Killian Myers out of your life for good.”

  “No, that’s not what I want,” she protested.

  “Well, that’s what I’m going to do. Once your mum is out of harms way there’ll be nothing stopping me from hitting Killian up with a pretty nasty curse. I’m not sure what yet. I’ll give it some thought,” I said, already ruminating the possibilities.

  “No. You’ll get her killed.”

  “Ashley, have some faith!” I said.

  “For fuck’s sake. I knew this was a mistake,” she moaned, getting up.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, spreading my arms wide.

  “To find another way to do this. You stay out of it,” she began walking away.

  “You already asked for my help now!” I called after her.

  “I don’t want it!” she yelled back without breaking her gait. It didn’t matter what she wanted. She was getting it either way. My help I mean. Maybe the other as well, but first I needed to save her from the baddie. I’m not entirely sure why I was so intent on helping her. I think there’s a sort of effect that pretty girls have on men, especially the mysterious ones. We just want to go out of our way to please them. It’s like we think that if we please them enough then they’ll repay us in utterly filthy ways. If you’re a man then you probably know what I’m talking about. And if you’re a woman then you probably know too. Hell, you’ve probably use it to your advantage plenty of times! Unless you’re an unattractive woman, in which case you don’t have that power. Anyway, before I insult you any further I’ll get back to the story. Read on trusty reader, things are about to pick up.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I headed over to Matt’s house again after my impromptu meeting with Ashley. If I was going to save her mum, then I would need to know where she lived. Matt would be able to dig that up. He might have failed to get me anything on Killian Myers, but Ashley’s mum was a different matter.

  Emma greeted me at the door and took me in this time. She was a short dark haired girl. I say short, but what I mean is average height for a woman which to most men is short. Emma was an attractive girl, but on account of her being my closest friends girlfriend, I barely noticed. Matt and Emma had been together for so many years that I’d lost count, so I considered her a pretty good friend too. She too knew all about what I was and all that. Wouldn’t be a very good friendship if I’d kept that secret. And Matt would be an even worse boyfriend if he had.

  “Is this Killian guy a witch or something?” she asked, as she led me through to the kitchen. When Matt answered the door we went straight upstairs. When Emma answered we got tea first. I liked that. I’m a tea drinker.

  “No. Boringly human. No offence,” I said. Witches and warlocks and whatnot are human technically, but they’re supernatural so it’s easier to class them as not human when categorising. Whilst we’re on the subject of categorisation I might as well clear a few more things up. You may have noticed that Emma asked me if Killian was a witch. Yes, men can be witches too, and women can be wizards. It’s not a gender thing, it’s a sort of rank thing. A wizard is just a more powerful sorcerer than a witch. It’s quite hard to know a person's power level without actually testing them so I tend to just call everyone a sorcerer or a witch. It’s simpler that way. There are other kinds of sorcerers, but I can’t be bothered to go over them all. Witches, wizards and warlocks are the only ones likely to come up, but if any others do I’ll explain when we get there.

  “So how has a human managed to get one over on a witch?” Emma asked. I waited until we were upstairs with Matt before I explained everything to them.

  “Right,” Emma said, nodding slowly. “So you’re actually getting nothing out of this?”

  “He might be. If it all goes to plan,” Matt said on my behalf. He understood how it worked. Impressing the girl led to good things.

  “You actually think that if you rescue her mum she’ll feel so grateful that she’ll sleep with you?” Emma asked. She clearly intended to smash my hopes.

  “Emma! Don’t be so crude,” I mocked. “What do you take me for?”

  “A typical man,” she shot straight back.

  “Eddie’s not that silly,” Matt said. “He knows he’ll have to take her out first.”

  “Well, if I could skip that then all the better. Fine dining costs and no girl wants to be taken to KFC on a first date,” I said. It’s true. I actually took a girl on a date to KFC once. She ended up leaving with someone else. He offered to buy her a family feast whereas I only offered a mini fillet burger. I got my own back. I may have sprinkled a little something in the bucket before they tucked in. Let’s just say neither of them would have had any action on that night.

  “This is gonna end badly for you,” Emma warned, and then took a long sip of her tea.

  “Here’s the address,” Matt said. I looked at his screen and then copied the address down onto my phone.

  “Thank you very much. At least one of you has faith in me,” I said.

  “Oh no, I agree with Emma. This will end badly, but that doesn’t mean I won’t help you.” He smirked and then took a big gulp of his hot chocolate. He doesn’t like tea or coffee. He’s an odd man, but I like him anyway.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll let you know how it goes,” I said and made my departure. They shouted that we needed to have a proper get together soon. It had been a while since we’d had one. I shouted that I agreed and then showed myself out. I had a mother-in-distress to rescue.

  It turned out that Ashley lived on Old Tovil Road. Not a great place. In general, Tovil has a bad reputation, not that I’m too sure why. I’ve never spent much time here. Ashley’s house — I assumed that she lived with her mum — was only a few houses from the end of the road. All the houses were terraced and from the outside looked like they were three bedroom properties. I sat on the wall across the road from the house and pretended to use my phone, just in case anybody was watching me. There were people watching the house and I just needed to find out where they were. I called up some magic and concentrated it on the house. I’m not powerful enough to see through the walls — I’m not sure anybody can do that — but I can detect how many people are inside. I focused on my goal and soon enough I got the answer. It wasn’t like a number shot into my head, it was more like a feeling. I got a sense of how many people we
re inside. I know that sounds terribly scammy, like a fraudulent psychic, but that’s the way it works. There was only one person inside unless my powers had been duped. I deduced that the one person was probably Ashley’s mum and began looking around the street. If the guards weren’t inside the house then they would be outside somewhere. Perhaps in a neighbouring house where they had a good view, or perhaps… I saw them in the black Mercedes just a few feet away. Two burly men were sitting in the front of the car. One was reading a newspaper and the other was reclining in his seat with his eyes closes. I wondered what Killian would do when he found out how poorly they’d been doing their jobs. I quickly looked about the rest of the street until I was satisfied that nobody else was in the area. It was all clear.

  So, here’s the plan. I was going to take out the men in the car. A little sleeping spell, like the one you saw me use on Sally at the beginning, should do the job. Whilst they were resting I’d go to the house, get Mrs Sheridan and take her to a safe place. I hadn’t actually figured out where that was yet. Any motel should do. I could mask it with magic so they wouldn’t be able to find her. Then I’d track down Killian Myers, he shouldn’t be too hard to find, warn him off with a demonstration, just like I’d given to Shay. Then I could call Ashley and claim my reward. I feel like I need to clear something up before we continue. Despite the conversation at Matt’s house, I was not helping Ashley and her mum just so that I could get her into bed. That was just a bit of banter. I won’t deny that I having my way with Ashley was a pretty nice thought, but it was not my sole motivation for helping. It was more like it was part of a game. The game had started when I’d begun nosing around, trying to figure out what Ashley’s big secret was. Now I knew the secret I had to finish the game. I had to figure out the rest. I needed to know why Killian wanted to be invincible. And I felt like I had to stop him as well. It was all part of the fun.

  I strolled towards the Mercedes, readying the spell I needed. When I got to the car I knocked on the window and waited for the guy to put down his newspaper and open up.

  “What?” He asked brusquely once the window was open.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. You wouldn’t happen to know where the old church is would you?” I asked. The lost man was a bit of a cliche I know, but if it works don’t throw it out.

  “No,” he replied.

  “Oh, well you see on my map…” I reached into the car, pretending to show them a map, but actually getting ready to strike. As my arm passed through the window the sleeping guy jumped into action and grabbed it with a speed I didn’t think he was capable of. The other guy pulled out a syringe and jammed it straight into my arm, pushing down on the plunger as soon as it was in. I felt a weird sensation as whatever was in it entered my veins. I tried to call on magic to help me but it was already too late. The street spun around me. My legs gave out. And that’s all I remember.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I woke up confused and with a slight headache. How could I have been so stupid? The guards hadn’t been in the least bit subtle, that alone should have warned me that something was wrong. And the fact that they weren’t paying attention should have given it away completely. They must have made me the moment I set foot on the street. I heard the noises around me before I opened my eyes. People chatting. Glasses clinking. Cutlery being scraped on plates. I opened my eyes slowly, knowing that the light would irritate them. I was in a restaurant. Sitting at a table amidst dozens of other diners. In front of me was a pristine white plate with what looked like a miniature quiche sitting in the centre. I looked up fully and saw the man sitting opposite me. He too had a mini-quiche. He wore a charcoal suit with a dark blue pocket handkerchief protruding from his breast pocket. His dark bouncy hair had been combed back over his head. The edges of his lips lifted in the smallest smile when he saw that I was awake.

  “Killian Myers,” I rasped. My throat was raw. I lifted my hands to cast a spell but found that they were bound by heavy handcuffs. I didn’t need to do any tests to know they were made of iron. Iron inhibits magic. All the while they were on me I would be unable to cast any spells.

  “Good evening, Mister Lancaster,” he said politely. He took his napkin from the table and placed it over his lap. “I hope it isn’t too difficult for you to eat with those on, but I’m sure you appreciate that I had to take precautions.”

  “I’m not hungry anyway,” I replied in a croak. My throat was too dry to talk loudly. I glanced at my glass and saw that it was filled with beautifully clear water. I wanted to swallow it in one go, but who knew what was in it.

  “As you wish. Don’t worry, the water is clean. I already have you restrained,” he said, that tiny smile tugging his lips again. He lifted his knife and fork and began cutting into the appetiser. He needn’t have bothered, it only amounted to one mouthful anyway. Deciding to trust him, I picked up the glass and glugged the water down greedily.

  “What do you want?” I asked, not bothering with manners.

  “I was going to ask you the same question.” He cut off an eighth of his starter and popped it delicately into his mouth. I really hoped that he wasn’t going to eat the whole thing in that perfect manner. What a ponce.

  “You brought me here,” I reminded him.

  “My associates brought you here because you attempted to cast a sleeping spell on them,” he said, forking his second piece of quiche. How could he possibly know what spell I was going to use?

  “I am a warlock. Casting spells is kind of what I do,” I replied, stalling for time, searching for a way out. We were seated in the very centre of the restaurant, there was no quick escape available to me.

  “Yes. Not for the time being, however.” He nodded at my handcuffs.

  “I don’t need magic to attack. I could just punch you,” I threatened, raising my fists.

  He smiled and gave a small chuckle. “Do you think that’s advisable?” he asked. I looked over at the two guards sitting on the table just behind Killian. “I wouldn’t worry about them. I’m more than capable of looking after myself.” He looked pointedly at my still raised fists. I lowered them.

  “You don’t look like you’d be too savvy in a fight,” I said.

  “Looks can be deceiving. What is that saying? Ah yes, never judge a book by its cover. Miss Sheridan is a prime example. On the outside, she doesn’t seem in any way remarkable. The power I’ve seen her exhibit so far is substandard, to say the least. And yet, I know that she will make me invincible.”

  “And how do you know that?” He was too smug for my liking.

  “I do not care for people who interfere in my affairs,” he said, changing the direction of the conversation. Not wanting to answer my question.

  “Well, maybe your affairs shouldn’t involve threatening young women and their mothers,” I suggested. There was no point pushing the subject, he wasn’t going to answer my question.

  “It’s hardly your concern,” he said.

  “I’ve made it my concern.”

  “I suggest you unmake it your concern then,” he said in a menacing whisper.

  “Why should I?” I could tell that he was trying to intimidate me. The handcuffs. The guards. The way he was so calm, so relaxed around me. It wouldn’t work. I don’t scare easily.

  He finished his last piece of quiche, wiped his mouth with his napkin and then placed it down on his plate. Within seconds, a waiter whisked his plate away without a word. He didn’t even glance at me; the man in the handcuffs. “Look around you, Mister Lancaster. What do you see?”

  I looked around. We were in a restaurant, a fancy one. I’m talking real silver and wine that would cost three months salary for the working class man. The place was packed. Every table was taken. Filled with diners. Couples on dates, friends having a catch-up, business partners discussing work. Then it hit me. All these people were sitting enjoying their dinner and not one of them had batted an eyelid at the guy in the middle of the room sitting in casual jeans and wearing a pair of handcuffs. Either they ha
dn’t noticed or they didn’t care. Judging by the way the waiter had ignored me I guessed the latter.

  “Now you see,” he whispered.

  “You own the place,” I muttered.

  “No. But I do own the people. They say that in this day and age buying people is forbidden, but it isn’t. For the right price, people will still do whatever you tell them. I line the pockets of these people and in return, they turn a blind eye to my activities. Something you would do well to learn.”

  “And why should I turn a blind eye?” I asked. I hated the patronising way he spoke as if I was nothing more than a child to him.

  “Because if you don’t it will end badly for you.”

  “Are you threatening me?” I asked, in mock horror.

  “Yes.” His response surprised me. People didn’t generally admit it so candidly. “Look over there.” He pointed to a table in the corner. There were two uniformed police officers enjoying a meal together.

  “This place is far above their pay grade. They are also on duty. I invited them here and told their superior officer that they would be coming.”

  “Yeah, yeah, because you own everyone,” I said with contempt. I was getting bored of his prattle now.

  “Not everyone, just the people worth owning. Senior police officers, judges, solicitors, politicians. The list goes on.”

  “Is there a point to all this?” I said angrily. There was only so much pretentious waffle I could stomach.

  “Jeffrey,” He said quietly. At first, I thought Jeffrey was somehow the point he was trying to make, then I realised he was talking to one of his guards. It was the same man who Ashley had met with in Costa. Jeffrey stood up and opened his jacket. He pulled out a handgun, pointed it at a man sitting alone enjoying a bowl of soup and then pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through the man’s head sending blood across the immaculate tablecloth in a beautiful pattern. A few of the diners cried out in a surprise. I gasped, but managed to stop myself from screaming. The man opened his mouth in surprise and then fell face first into his soup sending the contents all over the table and floor. The entire restaurant was now silent. Every diner was looking at the dead man with his face in his soup. Jeffrey was the first to move. He tucked his gun away and then sat back down. What happened next actually made my stomach turn. Everybody turned back to their meals and carried on as though nothing had happened. Even the officers turned back to their dinners.