“No. Stop asking. It is extremely annoying.”
“You act in such a gentlemanly way, but you say such dickish things. How do you manage the dichotomy?”
“With aplomb.” He paused as his man knocked on the door.
The door opened, spilling light across the wooden porch and up the leg of a rocking chair that sat empty and to the side. An older man with padding around the middle peered out through the screen. Seeing who awaited him, he beamed, his smile crinkling his face.
“Well, hello,” he said, opening the door. “Hello, hello. Good to see you, good to see you. I’m so glad you could stop by. Please. Come in, come in!” He pushed at the screen door, opening it a crack.
Darius’s man grabbed it and pulled it wide, allowing us to enter.
As I stepped closer to the older man, I could feel the residual magic pulsing from him. Its vibration calmed me, relaxing my muscles and putting me at ease. It was almost like a homey feeling in chemical form.
I let my hand drift to my gun and stepped aside quickly, giving myself space. I didn’t know why he was making a spell equivalent of Xanax, but I didn’t want to get blasted with it and then have to fight.
“Mr. Durant, so good to see you.” The man ushered Darius into a grand foyer with marble for days and lovely green plants on stands that looked like columns. In contrast, he wore shabby pants covered in burned holes and colored splotches. His T-shirt had a hole at the bottom, also appeared to have been burned, and there were more stains on it than there was white. “Mr. LaRay. Hello.”
Mr. LaRay, our driver, didn’t acknowledge the salutation, and stood just inside of the doorway with his hands clasped in front of him.
“Yes.” The older man turned his gaze on me. His eyes crinkled in the corners with his continual mirth. “And you must be Ms. Somerset. Such a pleasure.”
I glanced at Darius and got a minimal nod. He must’ve alerted this man that I was coming.
“This is Mr. Banks,” Darius said. “He will be assisting you this evening.”
“Assisting me?” I got another nod, but no further explanation. What else was new?
With a half-confused frown, I offered the man a smile and a “Hello.” I didn’t offer my hand. I’d learned the hard way that one should never touch a mage who recently performed magic. You never knew what cooties might suddenly explode across your skin. That had been an exciting lesson followed by a horrible rash.
The man’s hand lingered in the air for a moment before he clapped. “Yes, yes. Come, come. I think I have just the thing.”
He led the way back into the hollow of a finely put-together house with rooms galore and lots of areas to lounge. A big staircase curved away right, with a sweeping banister that Mary Poppins would ride down in style. The porch at the back was a large affair with a table and chairs sprawled around a closed-up umbrella. We crossed the deck and then a large section of plush grass.
I didn’t realize, before that moment, that grass could be plush. I’d been in my fair share of parks, but this was the sort of gardening miracle that made me slow and wish for a sunny day.
“Can I come here without you?” I asked Darius.
“Do you know this mage?” he asked.
“No. But his house is fantastic, and it would be even better in the—”
“Oh I’d love to have you,” the man interrupted as he trampled through a patch of flowers. I tried to pick my path much more carefully. “You would fit in here expertly, I can tell. Here we are.”
We had arrived at a large wooden shed in the corner of the property that matched the man’s clothing. He tugged on a rusted metal handle and pulled the squealing door open. Light washed over his face and body.
“Just in here, now.” He hurried in.
“I’m not going in there,” I said as a wave of magic rolled out.
Darius lightly touched my back and leaned in close, his version of a private conversation. “I have been in there many times, Reagan. I vow that you will come to no harm.”
The driver, who had trailed behind us, took up residence near the door, apparently providing security.
I pushed Darius away. “I’m not someone you or your man need to protect, Darius. You opening doors and feeding me grapes and wine—yeah, I’m in. Trying to coddle me on my home turf? That’ll get you punched. You do you. Let me do me. You go in if you want. I’m not.”
He stared at me for a long moment. “I will go in,” he said, “and bring it out.”
“It?” But it was too late. Darius had already stalked into the shed that may or may not have been purchased from the Unabomber. The thing did not fit with the house at all.
I felt eyes boring into the side of my head. I swung my gaze toward the driver. “No one told you staring’s rude, huh?” He continued his unwavering gaze with a straight face and body. “No compute?”
He ignored me. While still staring.
“Were you creepy before you became a vampire, or is this a recent development?” I asked.
“Oh no! Let me show her myself,” I heard from the opened shed door. Mr. Banks hurried outside with a pained expression, trying to shrug off Darius’s attempts at grabbing a long blade from him. “No. You couldn’t understand what it is I have made. Don’t touch it. She needs to be the first.” He stopped in front of me and thrust forward a sword.
“Nope.” I took a step back. “You can’t expect me to take whatever you give me. You must know that.”
Impatience covered his face. He shook the sword at me. “It is ready to pair. You must be the first to hold it.”
“Besides you, obviously.”
“Yes.” He shook it. “Obviously.”
“This is a replacement for the sword you lost,” Darius said with wary eyes as he looked at the weapon.
I felt my confusion cross my face. “My sword took two weeks to make. When was this called in?”
“While you were sleeping,” he replied.