Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

“Really? Adrian?” Camina’s frown became a glower, and the vampire dropped her hand like a hot coal. Adrian cleared his throat and loosened the neck of his suit nervously.

“I apologize. You’re looking for your son, of course.” Stepping back further into the museum foyer, the vampire gestured for them to follow him. “Kyle hasn’t come into work this morning, yet. He’s been running late since all the excitement what with all the magic he’s been using and fighting multiple class four monsters and helping out the F.B.I. with investigating the cause of the magic collectors failing. Camina? Are you quite alright?”

Kyle’s mother had stopped short as she heard what the director said. Jim had choked on his own tongue at the words. Director Arcas had not noticed her freezing in place as her mind processed the information and had continued walking for several steps before he turned to look at the warlock he’d been speaking to. Her face was pale, stricken and green beneath her caramel skin.

“What did you say?” It was a breathy, terrified sounding sentence. And the director seemed to have realized what he’d done wrong as understanding dawned on his face.

“Ah.” He gave the worried mother a sympathetic look. “Forgive me. You didn’t know. Let me rectify my mistake.” He took a deep preparatory breath during which Camina interjected with dry irritation.

“Let’s rectify your mistake.” The Harbinger of Dawn growled and Director Adrian Arcas, a vampire of indeterminate age and origin stepped back nervously as he realized that she was still fully armored. 

“My son is a non-combatant. He was supposed to be here at work, and safe during this event. Or guarded by Magicorps soldiers if he was in the field.”

“Yes.” The dark-haired vampire agreed amenably with an audible gulp, his burnt umber eyes no longer shining crimson. “Kyle is safe. Over extended, but safe. The Magic Crimes division called for a Warlock of the Archivist to assist in the investigation. Kyle went with a Magicorps escort. Sam was working the case. And while they were there, Sam got a call from Anna who was trapped in her school and Kyle went to go and help her. He took out the class four monster that Anna was holding off almost entirely on her own from what I hear. Then a second at… at least class four monster that he used Wrath of Zeus on.”

“Holy shit!” Jim dropped his camera ruining the shot he was recording and fumbled for it as it clattered on the ground. Camina’s head snapped to her journalist shadow.

“You will delete that immediately.” Gapping dumbly, Jim nodded his acquiescence to her demand.

“Camina.” Director Arcas began cajolingly then amended himself when he saw how shaken and furious the mother before him was. “Missus Wattkins, I know that employees at the museum are generally looked upon as strictly academic. Most people assume our artifact collectors don’t fight and are mostly protected by the Magicorps officers who usually accompany them. Perhaps that’s even an impression that we encourage them to deliberately make to the casual observer, but make no mistake,” here he paused, and his voice was kindly but hard as steel at the same time, “they are absolutely top-notch combatants when need be.”

“I see.” Something went out of Camina at that point. Her shoulders sagged from their normal perfect posture. Every argument she’d ever had with Kyle about his choice of patron flashed through her mind. The argument they’d had the last time they had spoken was particularly fresh. “I see.”

“You’re welcome to wait here for your son. We’ve got the golems on patrol and they would not take kindly to a threat like yourself roaming around the grounds. Kyle should be here within the half hour. Perhaps a bite to eat from the museum restaurant?” The tall, slim, handsome vampire gestured gracefully towards the door of the museum café where tables were pushed into awkward locations and chairs haphazardly dotted the dining room.

“Fine.” Camina gave the smarmy vampire a not quite disbelieving eyebrow raise as she allowed herself to be guided over.

“It’s still a in a bit of disarray, but the food is delicious and we have a buffet set up from serving all the refugees that just left.” Director Arcas pointed to a serving line that had been abandoned which employes were helping themselves from as they began to clean up. Then he waved discretely to get their attention and made a cutting across his throat motion and a crossing of his hands while mouthing ‘leave it, leave it’. Which they happily did, instead filling plates and sitting down to rest themselves.

“Okay.” Camina chuckled. “I can be persuaded to eat. If for no other reason than to give these employees a break.” There was a weary cheer from the bedraggled group who raised glasses, mugs, the occasional eating utensil in her direction.

“Why did Kyle go home if there are employees here who appear to have not left?” Jim cut in suddenly, his camera ever at the ready.

“Oh, these are employees who don’t reside in the employee housing and or who do not have magic. Those who are not combat mages have chosen to stay in the museum for the duration of the emergency or until our security golems report that it’s safe for them to travel back to employee housing unescorted. If you’ll excuse me I have a great deal of work to get done…” He bowed politely to first Camina and then Jim and then turned about smartly and walked quickly away. He was already pulling a communication’s device out of his pocket as he walked.

Jim and Camina watched him go. Camina warily and Jim with suspicion.

“That’s the walk of a desperate man.” He commented drily as he turned his camera off for a moment before heading over to the buffet. “What do you think he’s hiding?”

“You mean besides the fact that he genuinely has no idea where my child is or if he’s even still alive but just assumed he was…because…?” She let the sentence hang there for a bit with a shrug and a withering glance over her shoulder as she turned toward the buffet. Her stomach growled loudly as her mouth began salivating. “I don’t suppose you could not film me until I’ve gotten some food and quieted the black hole in my stomach?” She flushed with embarrassment as her hungry body betrayed her again.

“No promises.” Jones said around a mouthful of bacon he’d already snagged from the buffet. “If I thinks it’s good, it woes in tha eel.” He coughed and then swallowed the food he’d been chewing as he spoke while Camina suppressed a smile of annoyed amusement. “Ahem. I mean, if I think it’s good it goes in the reel.” He held his breath waiting for the beatdown that he half feared would come for being so bold. But, The Last Line merely huffed and threw up her hands.

“Fine.” Then she grabbed a plate and Jim turned his camera back on to both document the buffet and get some little seen ‘humanizing’ footage of Camina Wattkins being a normal person for once.

They were comfortably seated and Camina was halfway through her first plate while Jim was contemplating going for seconds when he and everyone who was not Camina Wattkins was startled by a terrifying sound. First one, then another, then another. Camina stood, ready to act but uncertain.

“What is that?” Jim shouted at her as she clearly knew what the noise was.

“Fireball spells. Big ones.”

8:06 AM September 15th2026

Central Park outside  the National Museum of Unnatural Science and History

Jones was running across the manicured lawn of central park between the museum and employee housing as fast as his exhausted legs would carry him. They burned. And moved in a leaden clunky fashion that feltslow even if it was eating up ground. He didn’t dare cast a haste or speed spell just in case it drew the attention of the golems still patrolling the park for monsters and unregistered magic.

Jones had not slept well the previous night or, more accurately… that morning. Between getting back to his room so late that it became early, and the shocking revelations of the past few days, he decided that there was a better use for his sleeplessness than worrying about the unchangeable facts. While there were many of those unchangeable facts – like the fact that someone had tried to kill him yesterday and he still hadn’t processed it – there were also a lot of other problems. 

Actionable problems. Problems he could solve with some good old fashioned Magicorps discipline.

Maybe not the most important problem, but certainly the easiest to research and most confusing problem on the list was, ‘Why did the museum security golems seem to have it out for Kyle?’. Luckily enough, that was one mystery that a military security guard assigned to the museum in general, and now Kyle in particular, was well equipped to solve. Having scanned through a long, looong list of golem security protocols at Zero Dark Stupid, he had finally come upon the most likely answer.

A stupid answer for a stupid time of day to have to be awake.

Kyle Wattkins was well known in the museum as a Warlock of the Archivist. It was his most compelling qualification even among his decently impressive academic prowess and showed up right at the top of his museum ID badge. The problem stemmed from the fact that the badge only listed him as a Warlock of the Archivist, not also as a wizard. The reason for museum golems’ security spells being constantly suspicious of the warlock was because his wizard skills were never registered. Of course they wouldn’t like an unlisted and potentially dangerous mage coming onto museum grounds, the whole point of their existence was to stop that from happening.

It was such a forehead-slappingly obvious problem now that Jones had reread the regulations manual, that Jones had to wonder if it had really been an accident. Had Kye deliberately not mentioned the fact that he was also a wizard when he was hired on? That would have been a grave violation of protocol. A fireable offense really. Would Kyle have taken that chance with his dream job.

Because of course it was Kyle’s dream job. Nobody had to tell Jones that, you could see the joy on the kid’s face every time he came into work. Which meant that said warlock probably hadn’t deliberately left out the fact that he was a wizard when he applied. And didn’t that creepy serial killer-looking chef friend of his tease Kyle about being a wizard sometimes. No.

Which meant that it had either been a bureaucratic faux pas. Unless…

Director Arcas was a shifty vamp. Could it have been a test for the youngest member of the curation team? A way to gauge his problem-solving skills or how well he was able to ferret out the solution to the problem? Maayyybe?

Whatever the case, Jones didn’t know. It didn’t matter because now he had an answer to the problem and a solution for Kyle. What he didn’t have, was Kyle. Who would probably be sleeping right about – Jones had frozen when he’d glanced at the clock and saw that it was after seven AM and closing in on eight. Frozen in terror because it meant that Kyle was likely already on his way to work through the park which for the silly Warlock of the Archivist was now a gauntlet of death.

Because Kyle didn’t know that the golems thought he was secretly a pile of wizards in a warlock suit.

Jones pumped his arms faster in the hope that his legs would follow in kind. It… didn’t work. Or did it. An additional shot of adrenaline surged through him as he thought that maybe possibly his idea had worked. But even if it didn’t, he needed to go faster. So, he tried.

He was almost ready to let himself think that things would be okay, that he was overreacting. Then he heard it. WHOOOSHUFFM! Big! And close. Behind him. Jones almost didn’t recognize the sound of an artillery sized fireball spell. He’d never been so close to one igniting.

Out of reflex the soldier hit the ground rolling onto his back as he watched the first fireball roaring overhead in what seemed like slow motion. That was the thing about artillery magic, sometimes it was slow to start, depending on how the enchantment had been woven. Or maybe he was just panicking and it wasn’t really moving as slowly as he thought it was. Whumpfwhumfp whumfp.

Even though he knew that those spells weren’t aimed at himself, Jones winced as he heard three more sounding off in quick succession. Oh, no! Jones army crawled a few paces as he untangled his feet orienting himself after the direction the fireballs were going in. Then he transitioned to a proper leopard crawl his knees moving with the opposite elbow before leaping to his feet and flat out running as fast as he could again, his eyes tracking the burning orbs in the sky.

From the angles of the fireball’s convergence, their target was near. Really near. Scanning the ground below where he estimated the target was, Jones was… his view was blocked by some trees. Really? Now? Trees? For Fu… freaks Sake!!! Did I really just Anna-sensor my own thoughts. Crap. Dodge the tree. Dodge it. Dodge… God damnit legs! HA! There!

Jones’ snaped out of his internal monologue as he spotted Kyle. The warlock was casting a spell. AN awesome spell. The spell that he’d cast two days ago with such perfection. But something was wrong. Even Jones could see it. Kyle was sinking to his knees and the spell. It was not going to work. Jones was going to have to try and save Kyle.

“This is going to suck.” He muttered to himself then laughed, because what had he been planning on doing this whole time anyways if he had thought that Kyle could save himself? “SHIELD OF LIBERTY!” The Magicorps sorcerer flung the words out along with his wand. Pointing to a spot mere feet over Kyle’s head before tucking and rolling himself under the protection also. Wouldn’t do for him to be outside the barrier when the fireballs spent themselves.

Explosion after explosion rocked the world. Red, white, and yellow flashing across Jones’ vision despite his eyes being closed with an arm over them for protection. Heat seared at his sides as molten flames dripped down around the edges of the spell he’d erected, licking eagerly toward the prone duo. Then it stopped. No sound but the ringing in his ears.

A breeze blew away the heat, but it still hurt his seared flesh. Burnt grass smell met his nostrils.

“We’re alive.” He laughed and flopped onto his back. “Okay. I’m alive. I should really check and see if you are alive.” He patted around with one hand, the other arm still over his eyes. “Are you alive? Where are you, buddy? There you are. Yep. You’re alive. I’ll get us out of here in a minute. But that really took a lot out of me. Phew. Being a sorcerer can sucksometimes.” Jones relaxed with his hands behind his head until he heard a wheezing coming from Kyle.

“You aren’t dying on me now, are you, Kyle?” Concerned, he removed the arm from covering his eyes and blinked until he could focus on the warlock crumpled beside him. Kyle’s lips were moving, sound just barely coming out of them. “What’s that? I couldn’t - ”

“Golems,” Kyle whispered with desperation. “Golems.” As if hearing the words reminded him of their existence, a jolt of fear gripped his core. Then Jones felt it. The arhythmic sound of many heavy steps from many heavy feet. Dozens of golems heading their way.

It was over. Two powerful and unauthorized shielding spells had been used on Museum grounds. The golems were closing in after determining their initial barrage hadn’t finished the job, and now Jones had probably just tagged himself as a traitor by protecting Kyle. This sucked.

Jones was frozen in terror for a moment. Wide eyes staring at the shield spell mere feet over his face. He was going to die and was taking a few seconds to wrap his head around that fact. Was it too late to abandon Kyle and run for it? Almost before he’d finished that thought, Jones had dismissed it. 

Leave someone behind? He couldn’t. Regardless of the fact that The Last Line would end him if he actually did.

Maybe the noise had drawn the attention of someone in the museum who could do something about this? Because Jones was tapped out. He patted Kyle. Not on the shoulder, but some part of him that just happened to be close enough to his hand for convenient reach. Kyle groaned back at him.

“Give me a second, I’ll think of something…. Maybe.” Jones had tried to reassure his partner but ended up doing the opposite as a thready chuckle came from the direction of Kyle’s head followed by another groan. Then, as Jones made a conscious effort to continue staring at the sky and not look toward any of the coming golems because he did not want to see his death approaching, he felt a feeble nudging on his side. Kyle was patting him back to console Jones.

The sound of massive fireball spells had managed to gain the attention of several people. Anna, on the couch of Kyle’s apartment looked up as yet another antenna tower of prisms collapsed in a tinkling crash. Then the herd rushed her to hide inside her pockets and cower.

Jim Thafesh was running at full tilt as he tried to keep up with a furious and terrified Camina in full 

mamma-bear mode as she chased a smoking dark blur across the rolling grass lawn of central park. While Jim didn’t know why he and Camina were heading towards the danger, again – okay, that’s not entirely accurate. Camina would always run toward the danger. Which by default meant that Jim would be running toward danger if he was with her.

It was fine.

No.

Really.

It was.

Though the journalist desperately wished he had the ability to see what the blur was they were chasing. Instead, what he did manage to see was dozens of the intimidating, blocky, scary-as-fuck security golems converging on some poor hapless monster. Or…maybe it was something else? Whatever was happening, the blur they were after was heading toward it also.

It wasn’t until he was almost zapped by a bolt of lightning that Jim realized they were running through a grove of magic trees.

“Ahhhh.” He screamed and stumbled away from the little explosion that had nearly knocked him off his feet. It was then that he took a moment to glance around the sun-dappled landscape to see that the trees were dozens of different colors. Not just the leaves, which would be expected considering it was getting into Fall, but also the trunks. And the leaves of the trees in this grove weren’t standard ‘leaf’ colors either. For example, one particular tree that drew Jim’s attention had Cherenkov blue leaves.

Now, it wasn’t necessarily a good thing for anythingto be Cherenkov blue, the color of light produced by a nuclear reactor in water. However, when a tree with Cherenkov blue leaves also had glassy bark and bright silver fruit hanging from it, electric currents sparking occasionally between them, it was clearly dangerous. Incongruously, cloud hopper rabbits were perched throughout the charged tree eating the silver fruit. Jim backed away from it and frantically searched for a safer route through what his memory told him must be the Central Park Magical Tree Orchard.

Unsure which way to go as he’d lost sight of Camina and the blur, Jim picked a direction he thought might be right and navigated clear of the tree dodging a few more electric bolts as his pace became a run once more. Tree trunks flashed by his face now, kind of interspersed with the light artifacts dancing across his vision from the bright lightning bolts. Up and to the right, the trees seemed to be thinner as Jim could see more light between the trunks there.

He veered in that direction checking his camera once more just to ensure it was still recording properly as he navigated his way among the trees. A rhythmic thumping from all around kept distracting him as he looked feverishly for its source while trying not to faceplant on a trunk. Worse yet, the sound was getting louder as he approached the direction he believed Camina and the blur to have disappeared in.

He broke out of the orchard into the full light of day. Sure, he’d been expecting it but he hadn’t at the same time. Before Jim laid the rolling manicured lawn of New York’s Central Park. Or more of it, since the park was quite large and he’d already seen vast swatches of it over by the museum proper. But it was out in that vast expanse that something drew Jim’s eyes.

A magical shield was hovering mere feet above the ground. Below which was huddled a Magicorp soldier, his yellow beret and uniform and cape a dead giveaway of his service branch. Beside the soldier was a mage, dark robe splayed around him. What had drawn Jim’s eyes though, was the circle of burned and charred ground around the shield.

“Holy shit!” Jim breathed as he continued recording and checked his camera’s focus. He didn’t dare add any commentary. Like speculating why, a Magicorp soldier and the unidentified mage might have been attacked by the army of golems who were emerging around the clearing. The blur that Camina had run after was nowhere to be found. Of course, if it had stopped moving…

It wouldn’t be a blur anymore.

So, the question was, where was Camina, again?

There. There she was standing back from the scene around the two bodies. No. Not standing. Arguing. She was gesturing angrily as a tall and slim but muscular man with burnt umber eyes physically restrained her with one arm as he gesticulated at the duo beneath the fading shield with the other. Jim tensed as he considered how best to help Camina with this interloper. While the pair’s words were heated, Jim was unable to make them out over the ominous thumping of golem footsteps. The sound was almost thunderous, really.

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WILL YOU JUST LET ME DO MY JOB, CAMINA!” Okay, that was the director. The revelation filled Jim with both relief and anxiety at once. Relief, because it was the Director of the Museum, he was the representative on Earth of the power the institution wielded. The Anxiety, of course, came from the fact that he was also a vampire, and vampires ate people.

Across the grass from Jim also shaded by the same grove of trees as the journalist, Camina was fussing with a vampire. No, not fussing. She was trying to pull out Ascalon, her incredibly powerful pact item. A holy item with the power of the Big G.

Adrian Arcas, Director of The Museum of Unnatural Science and History, was struggling with her to stop her. WHY? People were in danger and he was just going to let them die? At the hands of security golems? One was a soldier. A member of the United States Armed Forces. A patriot. How could the director be so cruel.

The soldier was shouting too. Pointing to Camina and the Director as he hollered at them pleadingly. Jim couldn’t make out exactly what was being said over the rumbling thrum of the approaching golems, but clearly, he was pleading with Camina and the director to save his life. And the Director wasn’t letting Camina help the pair trapped under the fading shield spell.

The journalist narrowed his eye as he filmed the confrontation. This was not a good look for the Museum. Hell, it wasn’t a good look for Jim. Was a licensed mage like himself really going to stand by and just let someone die because a vampire was being a prick? No? Unsure exactly what his intentions were, Jim made his way toward the struggling pair. Still filming of course. One must never stop filming.

His blood was pounding in his ears, and he was at that moment more scared than he’d probably been during the entire previous two? Or was it three, days? He’d been up and awake a long time now and even as the thought crossed his mind, Jim felt himself sway on his feet. That was not good. But bad things were happening.

While questioning whether or not he was even in a state to make good judgement calls or safely use magic, Jim Thafesh, embedded journalist extraordinaire, continued stumbling toward his boss and her opponent. His approach brought their words to him more clearly, while the increasing volume of the golems’ footsteps warred with drowning their voices out. Still, he was able to catch more and more of the argument.

“Just let me draw their attention.” The furious Camina protested.

“You will only increase their threat level, Camina.” Adrian tried to counter as he pulled on Ascalon. 

“Look you idiot. You’ve already drawn their attention and it’s not slowed them down one bit.”

“That’s my son, you overgrown mosquito.” She jerked back hard on Ascalon as it was growing in her hands.

“Mosquito?” Adrian growled and his eyes began to clow crimson. “See if you think the same thing after a…” The complaint died into a hurt mumble before his voice came back stronger. “I can turn them off; just stop trying to transform. You’ll only further activate their threat assessments.”

“I’m supposed to trust the vamp who got my kid into this situation in the first place?” Camin jerked her pact item, and by extension the very well-dressed vampire, in the direction of the bright morning sunlight.

“Oh. Woah.” Adrian jerked himself back away from the sunny grass he’d almost fallen into. “You almost put me back in the light madam. I could have been seriously harmed.” As if he wasn't already blistered red and slightly smoking after his run across the lawn.

“Then let go or I’ll show you some serious harm.” Camina wasn’t relenting and a cold sweat beaded the vampire’s forehead.

“Just stand down and let me – ”

“Stand down? My kid is in danger you flamboyant – whufpms” Whatever the Last Line had intended to say as she gathered power around her and prepared to cast some pretty unpleasant spells was interrupted by a wordless battle cry from Jim as he barreled into her. The two fell in a tangle of limbs while the Warlock of Archangel Michael shrieked her fury and dismay.

“Jim?!” Having never actually fought a vampire before, Jim had doubts as to whether or not he could even move the man, or if the expensively suited, tall, lithe, figure would just stand there like a mountain while Jim’s rushing charge bounced off of him with bone breaking force.

He just didn’t know. What he did know was that he was in no state to be calling on magic. Like, at all. And Camina needed a helping hand to get her opponent off balance. So, a charge to knock the guy down seemed like the best option.

If he hadn’t been awake for so many hours and hopped up on stamina potions, maybe the journalist might have reconsidered his position. Perhaps if he’d been able to hear better he would have realized that Adrian was trying to turn off the attacking golems but Camina’s mama bear reaction was creating further danger. For others, not for her. But Jim didn’t know, and couldn’t process that right now because the last few days had caught up with him and his brain wasn’t in the most rational state at the moment.

Camina was also not in the greatest frame of mind. Which is why she didn’t notice when Jim started his charge yelling as he came. Adrian had noticed, with a raised eyebrow and a simple response. He just stepped back out of the way and let the young man fall into the angry mother Adrian was wrestling with.

“Thank you, Mister, I forget your name. But thank you.” He stepped away from the flailing pair wiping his hands as he began whispering an incantation. A hissing sibilance of words that weren’t quite understood. Were they Latin? Were they Aramaic?  Greek? It was impossible to tell as the built and grew, overlapping over and over again, circling out from the vampire who now raised his arms to the heavens.

His spell had become an incoherent roaring chant in the air, visible lines of magic with the symbols and runes that enchanted the golems of Central Park and the museum security now linked each and every golem. They had stopped advancing but their feet stomped and rumbled as the air hummed with magic. Then… silence.

No feet stomping. No golems moving. No echoing after the thunderous crescendo of the whispered spell.

Nothing.

A breeze blew through the meadow and Jones felt like his breath and his heartbeat were the loudest sounds that had ever existed in that moment.

“Ah… Mister Jones,” the director called over to him. “Could you please bring Kyle over to us. I have a slight bit of trouble with the light.”

“Yes, Sir?” Jones had to take a moment to let the words filter through his brain. He was still coming to terms with the fact that the golem forty feet away had been intending to smash them with its feet. He could tell from the way its foot was raise that it had entirely intended to step on the prone pair. The Magicorps soldier felt hesitant through his stunned mind though he complied immediately, rolling the groaning Kyle over and then positioning the warlock over his shoulder. Kyle and Jones had made it most of the way to the shade of the trees when a muttering Camina finally extricated herself from the delirious young man who had crashed into her.

“Oh my God. My Baby.” She staggered to her feet and rushed at Jones who kind of dropped Kyle in his terrified desire to be as far away as possible from the riled-up Camina Wattkins in mother mode.

The director shot Jones a significant raised eyebrow look over his shoulder as he picked up the young man at his feet. Something about that look told Jones that this was going to be a very long day.

9:54 AM September 15th2026

New York F.B.I. Magic Crimes Division

There was snoring in the Magic Technology Lab office. Frank was moseying on into the lab hoping he’d get a chance to talk to Sam and Alex, or at least warn them about the fact that everyone was now aware of what Sam had done with Gleipnir and she was going to be mobbed, mobbed by people congratulating her if she ever made it down to the rest of the building. But the snoring made him pause.

Not that snoring was unusual this time of day. Gleipnir was not a morning person and he didn’t actually work, so he slept if he felt like it. But there were three different distinct pairs… sets… what did you even call multiples of snoring? Snorts? Whatever. There were definitely more than just Gleipnir sleeping and that was not normal.

He slowed as he approached the door to Sam’s domain, unsure of what to expect. Then he stifled a chuckle as someone murmured in their sleep in a classic ‘memememememe’ kind of snore. That had to be Gleipnir. Taking a quick, deep, fortifying breath, the senior agent rounded the corner and peered through the door to the lab office.

A smile spread across his face.

Alex, Sam, and Gleipnir must have slept in the office after getting back from out of town. Gleipnir had made himself a hammock up out of the way in a corner on a set of hooks that, if Frank remembered correctly, had been placed there specifically for that purpose. Alex was curled up on her cleared desk head pillowed on her arms, and Sam… Sam was…

Frank had to cover his mouth as he began shaking silently with mirth. Sam was sitting in her chair with her flat on her desk. No pillow. No arms. Just face turned to the side and her cheek on the cold faux wood surface, mouth open with a puddle of drool forming on the table beneath her lips. Frank rubbed his hand over his face, sucked his lips, and shook his head. This was above his pay grade. He did not want to wake these kids up.

Shaking his head, Frank did the smart thing and did not approach any further. Instead, he pulled out his wand, whispered a spell and watched as it began to lengthen. A set of footsteps drew his attention and he peeked back down the hallway the way he’d come. It was their boss, the director of the Magic Crimes Division.

Odd. He didn’t come down and interact with them often. And Frank was worried that things might not be great for them if he didn’t wake the kids up fast.

“Come on. Come on.” He muttered to his wand, willing it to lengthen up faster so that he could poke the girls with a stick from a safe distance rather than risk getting swatted by one of them if they were startled. Now it was too late to try a loud noise as that would clue the approaching director in on the fact that the main techs were sleeping on the job.

As he walked the director stuck a hand inside his suit coat and fished something out of an inner pocket that fit perfectly in one of his hands. Was the man using some kind of movement spell because he was fast. Really fast. It was as if every time Frank glanced away or blinked, the man moved twice the distance he should have been able to in that time. The director smiled wickedly at Frank.

“Good morning agent. You can stop with that. And you might want to get behind cover.” In one smooth movement, the director pulled apart the thing he’d taken out of his pocket and chucked half of it into the center of the room before ducking down behind and against the other side of the doorframe.

“What the hell?” Was that what Frank thought it was? He tried to go after it to help the girls but felt himself pulled backward by his jacket.

“No. Idiot. I said cover.” Sighing as he grabbed Frank and yanked him to safety with him. “It’s just a low-yield sound grenade. I use them to wake Sam up so she or Gleipnir don’t accidentally maim me when she works all-nighters.” Then the director covered his ears with the palms of both hands. Wide-eyed, Frank followed suite.

True to his word, a few seconds later a blast of noise came from the room beyond. As the sound died down, two feminine shouts of startlement could be heard along with the beginnings of a protective spell. Then cussing as an irate Sam realized she wasn’t under attack and canceled her summoning. Alex was silent until a very, deliberately loud snore broke the low ringing in Frank’s ears as he took his hands off them.

“Really Gleipnir?” Then she laughed. So did the director who had been shaking with mirth the whole time but let it out now.

“Yeah, laugh while you can because I’m gonna skin whoever did that…” Sam was stomping her way towards the door and Frank quickly sidled his way away from the director to try and give himself some distance from the target of Sam Wattkins’ ire.

“What are you planning to do to me?” Not the least bit afraid, the director stepped around the door just in time for Sam to walk into him.

“Oh. Boss. Guess it’s time to wake up, hey?” Like flipping a switch, Sam’s building wrath petered out. Puff. It wisped away into nothing, and he smiled at her with a mischievous and knowing grin.

“It is.” He agreed. “But shouldn’t you be at home? Resting?” He gave her a raised eyebrow that made the magic technician duck her head, blush, and look away. Observing from a safe distance, Frank’s mouth dropped open. What was that? Sam… Sam didn’t… She wasn’t pliant like this for anyone.

“I had work to do and someone needed to look after Alex.” She mumbled grouchily before glancing up defiantly. “Plus, it was dark and neither of us wanted to see what state our shittily shielded apartments were going to be in at oh’dark stupid in the morning.” The mirth faded from the director’s face at that mention and he became more serious on that note.

“Okay. Well, I need my magitechs to head home, get some rest, and take a week of leave.”

“What?” Sam’s eyes bulged and she glanced up, looking the director in the face again. Alex’s ‘what’ followed by her head popping out from behind Sam’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Now it was the director’s turn to look a little nervous. “Word’s gotten out about what you did…” here he paused as if looking for the right words, “and about what you saw and might have experienced… and someone’s making a hullabaloo about hiding your real magical ability level… psych evals for trauma… and maybe, maybeaninquiryintomagicallicensingfraud.”

The last bit had been said so quickly that it took a few seconds for the listeners to catch up with the sentence. Especially as the director had lowered his voice just a bit to try and make it difficult to hear.

“What?”

“What?”

“What?”

“WHAT?”

Sam, Alex, and Frank all stared at the director once the words kicked in. But Glipnir, who had been sawing hugely loud obnoxious, and obviously fake snores, shouted his question in outrage. Magical licensing fraud was a big fucking deal and could result in serious repercussions.

“Sam, you took down a dragon. Yeah, it was a corpse. Yeah, it was manifesting as a monster. Yeah, you had Gleipnir’s help. But it was a Gods damned real adult dragon. Doesn’t matter what the extenuating circumstances are, you aren’t rated as a Dragonslayer, and neither is Gleipnir.”

“Oh, fuck!” Gleipnir commented as that sunk in. He floated up behind Sam, pointed end up, on the opposite side from Alex with a pair of googly eyes stuck on his length near the top. Frank wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn the googly eyes blinked at him before focusing on the director. Frank rubbed his own eyes in disbelief. “Well, it’s not like I hid the fact that I am fully capable of restraining a deity. I mean, the whole Ragnarök thing is not even ancient history at this point. A dragon was significantly less difficult.”

“Regardless,” the director continued with little more than a slight pause as Gleipnir’s googly eyes had their double-take effect on him, “I need you both out of the office and on recuperative leave or something, I don’t know, I’ll figure out the paperwork, until I’ve got this mess straightened out. Okay?” 

He shooed at the direction of the exit. “Hurry along now before my bosses get here.”

The two women and Gleipnir glanced at one other significantly as if they were communicating silently with their eyes. Which was made even more bizarre by the fact that one of those pairs of eyes wasn’t even actually real, but they were definitely blinking and moving. Yeah. They wereblinking and moving. Then the three shrugged. Sam and Alex, as humans, shrugged their shoulders but Gleipnir as a, whatever he was, manipulated his ribbon tail into some kind of approximation of shoulders several inches below his ‘eyes’ and shrugged that instead.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Why not?”

Then they turned in unison to retrieve their belongings, straighten up, and head home.

“Really?” the director questioned in disbelief. “I was expecting a bit more pushback on this.”

“No. It’s fine.” Sam replied cheerily over her shoulder. “If it’s mandated, we don’t have to use my accrued leave.”

“That makes so much sense, actually.” The director acknowledged. “Relax. Recover. And we’ll see you in a week.” He turned and started down the hallway, he walked jauntily and as he went.

“Okay. Bye. Just don’t forget to explain to your superiors why you didn’t send us backup when we asked for it.” He froze for a second almost out of earshot but then continued on as if he hadn’t heard. Frank shook his head.

“Gods damnit, Wattkins. You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“So, what do you want to do with our vacation time?” Gleipnir asked in the most non-nonchalant way possible. Then he gave Sam a quick worried glance before sticking his ‘head’ out the window again. They were on their way back to Sam’s apartment in a not seedy, per se, but definitely cheaper part of town. Hint, it was not on Manhattan like her parents and her lucky jerk of a younger brother.

Being on the cheaper side of the river, she hoped that it hadn’t fared as badly as many of the buildings on the island. But if the damage to the buildings she was driving past was any indication, well, her hopes were sliding lower and lower by the mile. It just wasn’t fair. Her sentient pact item – and best friend – had said he would keep a nose out for the scent of any monsters. To facilitate this he had turned point side down and stuck his new ‘head’ out the window, letting the wind blow through the red ribbon of his ‘hair’ as he ‘sniffed’ for corrupted magic.

Sam covered her eyes briefly and winced as Gleip took a deep theatrical sniff of the light breeze their 

slow pace through damaged neighborhoods generated. Then she seemed to abruptly remember that she was, in fact, currently driving and needed to keep her eyes on the road. Just in time both hands returned to the correct places on the steering wheel and she corrected the slight course deviation that had occurred while she was indulging in self-pity that sometimes Gleipnir was over-the-top weird.

“Do you have to stick your head out the window to keep an eye out for monsters? Not that I’m expecting any.” She added drily as they passed another group of soldiers providing relief assistance, passing out water bottles and canned goods.

“It works best if the old sniffer has direct access to the air, my good Sam.” He responded with the Gleipnir equivalent of a deadpan straight face. Sam glanced at him again and he turned his wide jumbo googly eyes – which he had adjusted to now be near the ribbon end of his giant needle-like body – and blinked at her innocently. Then he grabbed the pair of googly eyes – which were connected together somehow - with his ribbon, and adjusted how hey sat on his ‘face’ as the wind from the window was fluttering them and they weren’t staying put well.

“Okay.” Once again, Sam rubbed a hand over her face, taking care not to cover her eyes this time. “Okay.” Where this sniffer was or how it worked, Sam didn’t know. What she did know was that it was there. It was part of him, and it definitely existed.

Gleipnir smiled at Sam’s acceptance and went back to contentedly taking deep ‘sniffs’ of the air out the window with his shortened red ribbon trailing along the side of her car. Not that he really smiled. It was an aura of smiling. An essence to his being that gave Sam the impression that Gleipnir was smiling.

Maybe it was a warlock and sentient pact item thing, but she could read Gleipnir’s expressions as if he had a human face. So, it was a little off-putting and weird when he wore fake facial features. But also kind of cool because they worked without being enchanted. Point in fact, the googly eyes he was currently wearing, shouldn’t have been able to blink and move. They just did when he wore then and there was no explanation for it. Speaking of which…

“Hey, Gleip?”

“Yes, Sammy?” He paused in his monster sniffing to once again turn at her to blink and she compressed her lips in a tight amused smile.

“Where did those googly eyes come from? I thought you’d lost all your face pieces.” Because she threw them out whenever he left them lying around the apartment. There had been fights. She was sick of stumbling over fake noses, rubber lips, and… It was a thing between them. He needed to learn to clean up.

“Oh, these?” The needle-ribbon whatever he was pulled his ribbon back into the window to gesture at the almost fist sized set of eyes balancing tenaciously on his inch thick body. “I remembered that I had them stashed in the back of your desk from months ago in case the pair I had been wearing at the time was damaged in the line of duty. I snagged these while you were sleeping.”

“That explains… wait a minute? How did you get into my desk drawn while I was sleeping against it?”

“Oh, Sam.” He waved a curly, end of his ribbon at her and swirled it around in tight complicated whorls and spirals. “I’m extremely flexible.” He paused and went back to looking out the window before commenting, “And strong.”

“Right.” She pulled into the underground parking facility for their complex and Gleipnir stiffed his relaxed and cheery aura turning to one of concern and attention.

“We’ve got monsters. Maybe magical creatures. Not exactly sure. Not particularly dangerous, but definitely somewhere in the building.” That sunk Sam’s mood even lower as she slammed the gears into park and added her parking break for good measure.

“Great. Let’s get this over with. Maybe we can go back to sleep if it’s fast enough.”

“Ha, haah.” The characteristic laugh of Gleipnir’s amusement was dry and irritated. “Are we ever that lucky?” The pair exited the car in the dimly lit parking structure. Someone had placed additional magical emergency lights powered by the higher-than-average ambient magic density and shadows crisscrossed one another in the pale yellow glow. Gleipnir fumbled with his googly eyes tucking them away somewhere that Sam couldn’t see as she tucked her purse over her should and locked her car with a beep.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky this time and it’s somebody else’s problem. Lead the way, oh great sniffer.” However, Sam was not feeling lucky and a little pit of dread boiled up from her pelvis to her belly.

“Welp, this sucks.” Sam muttered in the darken hallway. “Of fucking course management let the enchantments on the emergency magical lighting fixtures fail.” She grouched as she gripped her wand with white knuckles. It was stupid, but she was trembling a little bit as she walked through the mostly silent apartment.

“Not all of them.” Gleipnir added with an unhelpful level of sarcasm. “There were at least three that I could see functioning on the second floor when we passed it in the stairwell.”

“Yeah.” A snort bubbled out of Sam despite the seemingly dire circumstances, “But there’s none on this level.” Her voice was saccharinely sweet with tender bile. “And this is where the monster ‘smell’ is coming from.”

“Just stay behind me and I’ll take care of it.” Always willing to play the big brave protector, Gleipnir was eating up the fact that Sam was… not… comfortable? Yeah. Not comfortable with a monster being on her floor.

“What are the odds that the only monster in the building is on my floor?” Her grousing continued. “I mean, come on. There’s six other floors in this building. Hundreds of apartments. Unless it formed up here it would have had to climb four stories to hunker down in one of these apartments.” Her words were quiet but angry hisses now.

“Conversely,” The pact item offered more unhelpful information, “It could be a flying creature that climbed down three floors.” That stopped Sam. She froze in the dark processing the information. The only light she could see was little lines of light that seeped under the doors lining the hallway. Some were weak sunlight. Others seemed like maybe there were magical lights on in some of the apartments. All were quiet.

“Nope.” The worried warlock finally broke the unnatural silence.

“Nope, what?” Finally, noticing that Sam was no longer following him, Gleipnir turned can floated back toward her.

“Nope. I’m not doing it. I will yeet myself out of this building before I fight a flying monster.”

“Oh. Pish posh.” The floating Gleipnir patted Sam’s hand with his ribbon. “It’s an enclosed space. You’ll have the advantage.”

“I’m a magic technician, Gleip, not a battle mage.” Sam hissed with just the slightest, okay more than slightest, bit of terror in her voice.”

“It’s fine. It’s positively tiny compared to what we took on the other day. Now, come along. We’re almost there and you’ll never believe where I think it is.” The morbid excitement in Gleipnir’s conspiratorial tone only made the cold dread in her belly roil all the harder.

“Really?” It was dry, without any humor, because Sam just did not have any more shits to give at the moment. So, instead, she held up her wand like a flashlight and murmured a light spell. “Kynda.” A pure white and yellow light like a small dim sun formed at the tip of her wand already properly adjusted to a brightness that wouldn’t hurt her eyes. Still, Sam blinked several times as her vision adjusted to the new light source.

“Yes, yes.” Came the distractedly happy reply, “You can spark a light now. I’m sure it isn’t in the hallway, so you being able to see won’t let it know we’re coming.” Now her pact item was downright 

bubbly with anticipation. “You know, I’ve come to realize that I kind of like fighting monsters… 

Sometimes… okay, no I hated fighting the big monster. That was… traumatizing. But maybe I’ll like fighting this smaller one.” As he babbled, Gleipnir’s tone became less and less sure and Sam found herself tilting her head quizzically while she listened.

“You sound a bit uncertain about that.” They paused in the hall outside their apartment and she looked keenly at her best-friend-slash-pact-item-slash-roommate.

“Ugh. Okay. You’re right. I hate fighting monsters. I just thought that if you thought I liked it then we could get this over with faster so we could just go home and not have to worry about monsters anymore. But… hmmm…” He stopped talking as he examined the door to their apartment intently glancing back and forth between theirs and their neighbor. “I was not expecting that. Because who would? I mean the odds against it were… Because who even hasluck that bad?” His glances at first one door than another became even more intense as he sniffed t first one then the other.

“Let me guess,” The weary Sam interrupted before Gleip could get distracted again, “We do. We have luck this bad. It’s in our apartment, isn’t it?”

“Ha, haaahh.” He drew out the second ‘hah’ or a beat before agreeing with a defeated sigh. “Yeah. It’s in our apartment.”

“Alright then.” Pulling up the sleeves of her warlock’s robe, she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door. “On three. You go high. I go low.”

“Right. Just like Mom taught us.” There was no rhyme or reason to it, but Sam smiled. She couldn’t help it. It always made her a little bit happy when Gleipnir, a millennia old magical being, referred to her mom as theirmom. Because as old as Gleipnir was, his life hadn’t really begun until the day he became her pact item. Scared, lonely, drowning in eons of guilt and self-loathing for what he’d been a part of, but so full of life and with so much love to give and terrified that he’d never been seen as anything other than what he’d been made to do.

“Right.” Sam agreed softly. “Just like mom taught us. One, two,” Sam caught her breath and steadied 

her nerves for a second pausing longer than she should have in the middle of a count. “Three!”

They threw the door open and Sam flooded the room with light from her wand, throwing the spell she’d been holding onto up against the ceiling where it would do the most good. But, they saw nothing. Or more correctly, they saw… their living room. It was just as they had left it with no major changes. Sam’s cold coffee was still sitting on the coffee table. Gleipnir’s workout equipment was strewn around the floor instead of tidily packed away in the corner of the room that was his dedicated 

gym.

Like always.

“Well, this is ominous.” Gleip chimed enthusiastically

“Damnit.” Sam’s heart had sunk through the floor when she realized the living room, and by extension the kitchen – because she could see clearly into it from right fucking there at the door – were clear of monsters. “You know this means that it’s either in the bedroom or the bathroom.” She kicked at the floor in frustration.

But just to be sure she cleared the kitchen anyways. Yeah. Nothing there. It was quiet and – relatively – clean. Even the dishes she hadn’t done the last time she was home were still in the sink and the trash, yep, smelled like regular trash. She opened and closed the lid hopefully. No monsters in there. Then just for good measure she checked the fridge, freezer, and all the kitchen cabinets.

“You hoping it’s really small and hiding in here?” Gleipnir supplied as he followed her around the room closing cabinet doors behind her.

“Because I don’t want to have to deal with the financial destruction of there being a monster in my bedroom.”

“How would – ?” Gleip began before Sam cut him off angrily.

“All my clothes and expensive stuff are in there.”

“Ohhhh…” After a second of silent reflection, he started speaking again. “But shouldn’t our renters insurance cover that? And anything thats really irreplaceable is at your parents’ house.”

“Huh!?” Straightening from the floor where she’d been checking the inside of the oven, Sam relaxed a bit as she contemplated the suggestion. “Renter’s insurance might indeed cover that. That would rock. Let’s go kill a monster.” Suddenly, much more jovial about the whole situation, Sam led the way to the hall with the bathroom and bedroom beyond.

“Ohhhhshhhiiittt!” Sam and Gleipnir hopped back against the wall of the hallway as a tongue or something lashed at them through the bathroom door. It splashed messily on either side of the bathroom door leaving running trails of what must have been saliva streaking down the off white walls in multi-colored bubbly rivers. “Gross. Ahhh.” The tongue came lashing out of the door again and Sam hopped out of its way while Gleipnir dodged in the air.

“Is that the shower curtain?” Astonishment rang in his voice. “Our shower is the monster? This is just some unbelievable hogwash.”

“Okay.” Sam edged further from the open bathroom door that she had just carelessly barreled past in her rush to see what damage, if any, was in her bedroom. “How do we kill a showe – are those my toiletries? No! That’s hundreds of dollars worth of shampoo, conditioner, and bodywashes. Ahhhh, man.” But her disappointment only grew with her pact item’s next words.

“It’s your new alchemical moisturizer,” He sniffed loudly in the direction of the rainbow smear. “and facial cleanser set also from the smell of it.”

“For fucks sake” Sam screeched up at the heavens with an inquiring gesture. “Is nothing sacred? Really?”

“I don’t think now’s really the time to be beseeching the Gods, Sammy.” But the look that Sam threw his way had him backpedaling in an instant. “Or I could be wrong about that. Clearly, very wrong.”

“Let’s just kill it and be done with it.” She pointed her wand into the dark bathroom and prepared to summon a spell.

“How? We can’t burn it?”

“Why not?” Because that had been exactly what Sam had been planning on, a nice tightly woven fireball or fire thread spell.

“Because it’s literally part of the building, made out of metal with a clay or enamel coating, and any heat strong enough to kill it will also set the building on fire.” Well when he put it that way.

“Fine. Ice? Can’t just stab it. Or can I?” The thoughts started turning over in her head and she wondered at how quiet the bathroom monster was when it wasn’t actively trying to eat someone. “Creepy how it inherently seems to have made itself into an ambush predator.”

“Yes,” The thoughtful way Gleipnir spoke caught Sam’s attention and she turned back to find her wearing his googly eyes and stroking his ‘chin’ with the end of his ribbon. Sparing a quick facepalm for her partner in everything, Sam turned a flat look on the dark bathroom before tossing another light spell in there. “Kynda.”

Her aim was careless and confident and the flight flared to life near the spot in the ceiling where the bathroom light used to be. Now that area was a pulpy mass of rainbow-oozing squishy bits of falling popcorn texture. Because her apartment was renovated by assholes who thought popcorn ceilings weren’t a sanitation and allergy nightmare for tenants to deal with.

“The whole room?”

“Damn. Look at how it incorporated the design, fixtures, and supplies into a semi-coherent whole.” Shooting another disgusted look at Gleipnir, Sam shook her head belatedly.

“You can’t wait to tell Kyle all about this, can you?” Because her pact item was just as much of a nerd about the mysterious ways magic manifested itself as her younger brother was.

“Come on, do you really think he’s seen something like this? The faucets are producing the saliva, which had to have originally come from bottles, which are now teeth. But the liquid in them is now coming out of the faucets which should be filled with water, but aren’t.” He gushed the way he did when he was really excited about things. “Don’t kill it yet. I want to get an essence imprint for my Satchel Beasts collection.”

“Holy shit. I haven’t even though about Satchel Beasts this whole time. I’ve missed so many opportunities to get monster essences for my deck.” Shoulders slumping with disappointment, the warlock leaned against the wall while her pact item rummaged around her personage and produced a deck of cards from the Gods only knew where. “Don’t worry, I’ve had my satchel on me this whole time and I’ve been getting essences for you as well. But you do owe me thirteen blank essence collection cards.”

Though she didn’t know when, or how the industrious Gleipnir had managed to do what he’d done, Sam was at least grateful.

“It’s gross.” Her comment was inane but felt like it needed to be said. Of course it was gross. It was an entire room which had become a mouth. Vibrant colored saliva pumping out of salivary glands shaped like the faucet fixtures they had once been. The floor and ceiling were pulsating and soft like the lining of a mouth. A little army of shampoo bottles, a hard pallet of ceramic and metal from the tub. And it was all in shades of pale grey, off-white, and silver. Except for the saliva and the toiletry bottle teeth. Which were floppy because they had come from plastic.

“So, gross.” Gleipnir replied as he activated the enchantment on his satchel and captured essences of the monster for his favorite magical game. “Okay, done. Go ahead and kill it. I suggest freezing it until it can be shattered. That should do it.”

“Fine.” Sighing, the Warlock of Frigg raided her wand and wove a spell of ice and binding and frost. “Vefa ok sauma. Kaldr ok kaldr.” Weave and sew. Cold and cold. Elemental spells weren’t really Sam’s forte. But she’d done more than one in the last week and that was saying something. Frigg was a wonderful patron for a magitechnican. She was a goddess of creativity and making things. Mostly of weaving, most notably, wyrd.

In English, Frigg was a weaver of fate.

But fate didn’t have to be big important events. It could be small. And weaving, spinning, and other fiber related art concepts could be nudged, twisted, and manipulated. Like fate, one could spin, weave, and sew other materials. Or things that didn’t have a physical form. Like cold. There was more a Warlock of Frigg could do, but Sam didn’t need more. Just enough to follow her passions.

From her wand cold grew. It flowed into the gaping maw filling it with frost and terror. The monster knew it was dying. It could sense and feel in its twisted and warped existence. So, it knew it hurt, it was feeling a sensation that it disliked, and which hurt it. It started thrashing, the walls and ceiling spasming as its tongue lashed out again seeking the only thing it knew, food to satiate its unending hunger.

“Come on.” Gleipnir nudged Sam in the direction of her bedroom. “Let’s get some stuff to take home or over to Kyle’s for a bit. You don’t have to watch this.” He nuzzled along her side and wrapped his ribbon protectively around her, guiding her to their bedroom and wiping at the tears running down her face as they went.

“I’ve gotten good at killing, haven’t I?”

“You are a child of a long and great line of warlocks,” Gleipnir chided her softly, “you were all meant for grander fates than you chose.”

The drive to Kyle’s was morose and silent. Not for lack of effort on Gleipnir’s part. He’d tried making jokes and blinking his googly eyes at Sam in the way that she found so irritatingly endearing. It did not work. Sam just gave him a few flat stares as if she was too angry or upset, or emotional to even communicate with him.

Which he was pretty sure was somehow his fault too, yet he’d be damned if he could figure out what he’d said wrong. Gleipnir’s comment about her being fated for greatness was supposed to have been reassuring. A reminder that she was not, in fact, doing as much fighting as she could be if she had chosen a militaristically traditional path. Instead, she’d been angry about it.

“Am I supposed to be grateful for that fate?” Sam had snapped waspishly at him. “Am I supposed to have wanted it?”

“No.” He’d reassured her with very wide googly eyes. “Never. We’ve just been incredibly lucky to have lived peacefully so far. I hope it continues…” Then she’d collapsed on her pink bedsheets and sobbed into her maroon satin pillowcase while her bathroom convulsed through its death throes. Gleipnir had no words to help his warlock. He was still somewhat emotionally stunted from his centuries as a magical prison warden who accidentally developed sentience.

What he did know was that they had both seen things that were nightmare-inducing in the last few days. Things that they both needed help processing. And Sam wasn’t really thinking straight about that. She never did. If there was anything his warlock hated it was asking anyone for help. So, he cuddled up against her reassuringly and patted her awkwardly on her back while elongating his ribbon-tail to pack a few extra things into an overnight bag.

“Call your dad.” Gleipnir gently urged Sam as she sat up to take the box of tissues he offered her. “See if he’s home yet and if not, we’ll head over to Kyle’s since you’ve got a spare key and the resident parking garage is magically insulated along with the rest of the building and you won’t have to worry about maybe losing your car if the arcanes spike again.” Sam blew her nose then sniffed, tears still running down her face.

But she didn’t smile. There was something behind her eyes, yet it was definitely not a smile. The pact item knew that Sam needed help. A psychiatric intervention as soon as possible. She’d seen things in that monster. Done… it didn’t matter what she’d done. What mattered was that she couldn’t help any of them. She could save any of the people who’d been sucked into the thing that had risen from the corpse of the dragon.

Wordlessly, she pulled her phone out of a jacket pocket with bleak pain-filled eyes. Then she dialed and Gleipnir waited with bated breath as he listened to the sound of the ringing through the speaker. One. Two. Three… six. The call went to voicemail. She hung up and inhaled sharply.

“Why didn’t you leave a message?” he as with a little bit of confusion.

“Do you really think he’s going to call me back?” it was half-shout and Gleipnir felt himself recoil slightly at the venom in it.

“Well,” he stammered hesitantly, “well, you can’t be certain that he’s…”

“He’s what?” she prompted as he paused, looking for a way to phrase it delicately. “Even if he isn’t dead, Gleip, what are the odds that he will look at his phone, check his messages, and actually call me back? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know how to check his voicemail. Not because he’s incapable of it, but because he just doesn’t care enough about what anyone else has to say to him. You really think the man-child who never learned how to cook, asked his son to leave work and pick up his youngest daughter, and then abandoned said daughter in a life-or-death crisis, will fucking bother talking to me if it’s the least bit inconvenient for him? And considering the current state of emergency, it’s probably pretty fucking inconvenient for him even if he is completely safe. I’m sure whatever was so important he had to bail on Anna is still keeping him occupied since Mom’s not around to get his attention.”

Sam was furious, scared, traumatized, and holding on to functionality by a thread. Which Gleipnir was aware of, and he was about to point out that maybe she was being a bit harsh on Dad. And then… Gleipnir thought of Sam’s parents as kind of his parents too. After all, they had raised his burgeoning sentience right alongside their four children despite the difficulties it would bring.

To him, their father had always been a bit of a loveable doofus-savant. Brilliant, but immature. Self-aware of his general incompetence with mechanisms to compensate for his shortcomings. This time, though…

“You’re right,” he sighed, hugging Sam tighter for a moment before wrapping his ribbon around her hand and tugging her to her feet. Then the ride, in mostly silence. He’d eventually given up trying to cheer Sam up and taken to sighing heavily as he stared out the window at the scenery passing by.

“There’s a lot of damage.” He hadn’t been expecting a reply to the inane comment, but it seemed that was what finally pulled her out of her funk.

“I’m sure the big companies are already putting together their bids for the government contracts.” Her mood was darkly sardonic, and it showed in her voice. Gleipnir chuckled his agreement.

“Those asshats are racing to get themselves a piece of those sweet, sweet, FEMA funds, and don’t even get me started on the war research and development companies are going to wage over all the monster parts.” He added to the griping.

“Oh, Gods. You know what that means!” Sam’s derogatory tone of voice could only be reserved for one entity, the entity abhorred by magic users and sellers throughout the country.

“Mmmmkaay.”

“Mmmmkaay.” They exclaimed simultaneously as they drove through the devastated streets and chuckled together before Sam continued.

“For realz, the Magical Materials Control Agency are going to be all over New York.” Breaking as she approached Central Park, Sam pulled onto the street leading towards the museum’s employee housing. “It’s the kind of disaster they’ve been waiting for to push for harsher restrictions on all magical materials.” Gleipnir snorted in disdain for the government agency which often tried to overstep its boundaries and whom nobody at all respected.

“Like that’s going to work. The big military contracted R and D firms will never stand for it. And big money – holy moly hot tamales!” They’d reached the driveway entrance to employee housing and had to stop when a rank of golems blocked their path. Defensive enchantments were active and…

“Sam. Hold up.” Gleipnir’s voice was stern and commanding.

“I see it Gleip. Their offensive enchantments are hot, they’ve fired off mass attacks in the last day at least. I didn’t realize that there had been that kind of manifestation so close to the museum.” The pair glanced at each other before eyeing the silent sentries between them and a nice monster-free apartment. Sam, like Gleipnir, could see the flows of magic and as a magic technician had a fairly good grasp of what the golems were actually programmed to do. “Maybe…” Sam started before Gleipnir cut her off.

“Go slowly. We should be fine. There’s nothing in the enchantments that indicates they should view us as a threat.” He added in a high tight voice as he thoughtfully examined the golems. “Let me get our F.B.I. ID cards out just in case.”

“Really? You think that will help?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that will help.”

Having their identification cards out did, surprisingly, help. Samantha and Gleipnir pulled slowly through the gate as the golems that had stopped them turned aside to let them pass. The pair stole nervous glances at one another as they proceeded with caution.

“Huh,” was the only comment Gleipnir made until they had left the perimeter guard behind.

“That was terrifying.” Finally, Samantha let out a sigh of relief when the key code Kyle had given her allowed access to the double gated magically sealed parking facility below the employee housing complex.

“Ohhohohoho yeah!” A heartfelt chuckle came from Gleipnir and Sam gave him a wry affectionate smile. “Some kind of shit went down not too long ago.” He was keeping an alert lookout while Sam pulled into Kyle’s dimly lit, empty parking spot. It was empty because her little brother hadn’t managed to save up enough to buy any of the magic-resistant cars he wanted that were designed by the Daedalus Technology research and development company. However, after the nonsense with Anna, Kyle might have changed his mind about that.

As someone who had to have a car for commuting, Sam thought it was silly to save up for years for a special vehicle. Just get a loan and pay it off. But no, Kyle wanted to either buy his fancy car outright, or have a significant downpayment ready. Gurgling came from Sam’s stomach, and she clutched her middle with a grimace. Slamming the gear shift into park, she unstrapped and hopped out of her car into the pale blue emergency lighting of the garage.

“Okay. Let’s go raid Kyle’s fridge. Maybe he’s got some ice cream that needs to be eaten while the power’s out.” That thought cheered Sam immensely and they headed toward the door to the residential sections of the building.

“OooOOOooo, maybe Kyle has some Cheasoning Mix we can put on it.” Beside Sam, Gleipnir was easily carrying both the suitcase he’d packed for her, as well as a smaller ‘backpack’ of sorts for himself.

“That’s so gross, Gleip.” Making a fake retching sound to mock his strange food choices. “Cheasoning Mix is intended for savoryfoods.”

“Nuh uhh,” he countered. Though the stairs were wide enough for them to walk side by side, they chose to go single-file in case someone wanted to come down while they were climbing. “The packaging specifically states that Cheasoning can be used to add flavor to any meal, treat, or snack whether it be sweet or savory.” The words echoed in the stairwell loudly and Sam modulated her voice to be softer when she made her reply.

“I don’t care what – what it says.” Her hissed response changed from a booming echo to a whisper mid-sentence when they exited the stairwell to the hallway of Kyle’s floor. “People who use Cheasoning on sweets are weird.” She was rummaging in her purse for her key ring only to remember that they were in her pocket when she patted herself down. “Ha, there they are.” She fished them out to open the door.

“Thank you.” Gleipnir laughed. “I thought you’d never notice that I’m – ” He stopped mid-sentence as they both froze in the open doorway to take in the scene. “Huh.”

There was a shirtless, very buff, smoking man sitting on the couch covered in a frosty blanket. No, he was not smoking recreationally. There were no cigarettes. It was a man, who was literally exuding smoke from his snow-white skin. He was sipping from a healing potion bottle – also frosted over – that was really more slush than potion at this point. There were dozens of little sparkly ice chunk-things ranging in size from the tip of a thumb to about a hamster-ish, crawling over his body. Anna and the soldier who had been with Kyle were busy repositioning the creepy-crawly chunks of ice.

“Are you sure that the potion will still work if it’s this cold?” Anna was protesting hesitantly while she worked. “I don’t want to diminish its effectiveness? No. Stop that. How many times do I have to tell you guys to stay off his face.” She snagged one of the crawling ice-things which had been about to crawl from behind hot-guy’s ear onto his pale, sculpted cheek. “Sorry about that director.”

“It’s quite all right – oh, hello.” His eyes met Sam’s where she and Gleipnir were watching. Red? No. Orange? No. Brown? No. Burnt Umber! With dark, sleek, disheveled hair carelessly across his face which he immediately tried to brush into some semblance of order as he began to stand.

“Oh, hey, Sam. Gleip.” Anna tossed over her shoulder before Jones’ voice distracted her.

“Woah, director. Not so fast.”

“Where do you think you are going? My prism babies are going to fall. Sit back down.” The teen firmly instructed and Sam felt herself mouthing the words ‘prism babies’ questioningly. One look at his warlock had Gleipnir realizing that he was going to have to take the lead in introductions because Sam’s recent trauma must have done something to her brain.

“Hello,” Gleipnir started forward, tossing his and Sam’s bags in the closet along with Sam’s purse which he gently teased out of her distracted fingers. “I’m Gleipnir, and this is my warlock, Samantha.” He wrapped his ribbon around a suddenly nervous Sam and guided her toward the trio at the couch. He studiously ignored the annoyed look that Sam shot him for using her full name.

“Hello, Samantha. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The handsome man smiled a broad smile with full lips revealing straight white teeth and two fangs. He bowed slightly from his seated position. “I’m sorry that I cannot greet you in a fashion more suited to a lady.”

“Will you quit moving already?” Anna rolled her eyes at the vampire – because Sam finally realized that’s what he was – and looked to her sister for agreement in annoyance as she made a ‘can you believe this guy’ gesture with her hands before grabbing another tumbling prism and reattaching it to the vampire at a more secure location.

“Hi – hi?” Sam gulped down the lump in her throat and wondered about the strange tightness in her chest then reached out to grasp the hand extended to her in greeting. “I’m Samantha Wattkins.” The very athletic and muscular looking vampire took Samantha’s hand in both of his and brushed his lips against the back of it. A hot blush suffused her face.

“Enchante mademoiselle.” His eyes were locked on hers, bright and earnest if maybe a bit too eager seeming to impress her. Sam was stunned and silent. Reality narrowed down to that soft touch. Maybe time stopped for a second while Adrian Arcas stared into her eyes? All she knew was that her sister, the Magicorps soldier, and the entirety of the room disappeared for a few heartbeats. Had anyone, anyone ever, kissed her hand before? She had no idea. Then he blushed and laughed self-deprecatingly at his own behavior before running a hand shyly through his hair. What?!

What?!

What?!

The world expanded again as the rest of the couch, the three other people in the room, and indeed, the entire room returned to normal. Time began moving again.

Samantha Wattkins giggled.

Not a normal giggle. Not a we’re-buddies-having-fun kind of giggle. It was…

Anna’s whole body stiffened at that, a sound because she had never heard it come from her older sister’s throat. Both younger sister and Gleipnir turned to stare at the prickly warlock who had scared off most of the men who had ever been interested in her. A white-haired head and a googly-eyed pact item blinked incredulously, first at Sam, then at each other, then at the director who blushed a bright scarlet.

“I’m sorry. I must apologize. You probably shouldn’t look into my eyes right now. My magic’s a bit out of sorts while I’m recovering.” He glanced away with a morbidly shameful expression. Closing his eyes, Adrian scrubbed a hand over his face and through his dark hair.

“Wa-What?” Sam prompted with a stutter. But Gleipnir got it.

“Vampiric mesmerism.” He swooped close to Sam and wrapped his ribbon protectively around her waist. Perhaps he would have said more but at that moment, a commotion came from Kyle’s room. Kyle’s voice, distraught and angry, came through the walls followed by Camina’s low soothing tones.

His door opened to reveal Kyle in a pair of boxers, bandaged and burned. He was pointing angrily at the director and trying to hobble past his mother. She easily restrained him.

“Will you calm down?” Camina admonished. “It’s just a giggle. Sam’s a grown adult. I’m sure she’s fine.” She forced Kyle – still grumbling about vampires – back to his bed. “You sound racist right now.”

“I’m not racist, I’m a brother. She’s not allowed to date. It’s bad enough I have to share my older sister with Gleipnir. That rat bastard.” A surprised Sam gave a short bark of laughter before stifling it at Gleipnir’s protest.

“I’m not a rat bastard. And I was here first.” He shook a roll of his ribbon at the closed door.

“Being older doesn’t count. Gleipnir.” The pact item blinked his googly eyes at Anna’s correction. “Kyle was part of the family first.”

“What?” He made a pair of arms out of his ribbon and threw them up in the air before shouting “Why does no one tell me these things?” He then stormed away from Sam only to curve around and hug Camina. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, Gleipnir.” Her low voice was indulgent and amused at her children. Them being possessive of each other was certainly better than if they all hated one another so she must have done at least something right in that department. Gleipnir blew a raspberry at Anna as their ‘mom’ acknowledged him as one of her children. “Now what’s going on out here that made Kyle want to kick his boss out of his apartment in his fireball-and-magical-drain-induced delirium?”

“It was my fault.” The tall athletic vampire rose to his feet letting the cooling blanket and herd of prism crawling over him fall much to Anna’s dismay as she rushed to catch her ‘prism babies’.

“Seriously? You are the worst patient.” The teen bemoaned as she gathered her pets and began consoling them in baby talk. “Did the big mean vampire drop you? Yes, he did. He just dropped you on the ground like he forgot you were even there trying to help him cool down.”

“I was lax in restraining my powers and may have um… accidentally, of course…” Camina waved impatiently at him to continue his explanation.

“Of course,” she prompted drily and rolled her eyes that he was so nervous.

“Used the tiniest bit of Vampiric Mesmerism on… Samantha.” He sighed her name and Camina’s eyes narrowed and hardened.

“I see.” Not being a fool, Adrian immediately sensed the coolness of Camina’s mood.

“I… should… I should go.” He grabbed a singed jacket and dress shirt from the coffee table. “Thank you, all. It was a pleasure meeting you ladies.” He nodded at Anna and slightly longer at Samantha before ducking swiftly out the door. By the time Camina had crossed the room to lock the door, Director Adrian Arcas had disappeared from the hall. She closed it and locked it before leaning against it.

“That was interesting.” Jones broke the silence. Listening from the stairwell, Adrian Arcas leaned against a wall and banged the back of his head gently into it. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He had very much embarrassed himself by losing control of his powers. Worse yet, he’d come on way too strong at the same time. Which made his slip-up seem deliberate. But it was Samantha Wattkins. He’d had a celebrity crush on her for years, years.

And no, Samantha wasn’t as famous as her younger sister. But she’d gotten her fair share of press time. The vampire would be lying if he didn’t spend the first three months Kyle had worked for him dressing extra debonair and hoping the mage’s older sister might drop in to visit him at work or pick him up, giving Adrian the opportunity to meet someone he’d admired for a while.

Despite Kyle being his employe, Adrian had never had the chance to meet his sister. Of course, it was going to be something like this for their first encounter. There had been no meet cute like he’d half imagined. No chance for him to say something charming, make her laugh and invite her to lunch at the museum restaurant.

His one chance to make a good first impression and he’d well and truly fucked it up while pissing off one of his employees and The Last Line in the process. It wasn’t even like he’d been caught off guard. Enhanced vampire senses had let Adrian know way back before she and Gleipnir had even started climbing up the stairs that she was on her way up. Plus the security Golem enchantments had sent a notification to his wrist scroll when they’d come through the gates. This was all on him.

Damnit!

11:14 AM September 16th2026

Museum of Unnatural Science and History Employee Housing

Oh no, the golems. Kyle and Jones were surrounded. Through his blurry eyes, Kyle watched in helpless terror struggling to do something, anything, as fireballs were raining down. Like an idiot, Kyle had used the wrong spell for the situation. Not just that, he’d tried to call on his own pathetic reserves of magic. Of course, this was how he was going to die.

And his idiotic mistake was going to cost Jones his life too.

The golems were approaching, and Kyle wasn’t able to move let alone fight. He hadn’t channeled the ambient magic effectively and now he was paying for it. Which he really thought he hadn’t done. But then Kyle had reached for help from the codex. And it was gone.

Not disappeared. He fumbled slowly with weak burned arms for the magical tome of his warlock pact and found it snugly secure in its holster. It had shifted when he collapsed and was poking his shoulder at an unpleasant angle. Oh. So, some of that pain wasn’t from draining his magic and surviving artillery fireballs.

No. Focus. His codex was there. Kyle could even sense it magically. He just couldn’t interface with it. No. Not that either. He could interface. The flow of magic was just throttled and... weak.

It didn’t matter.

The golems were coming.

The golems were coming, and Kyle’s field of vision was growing narrower and narrower. The sunny autumn morning was dim and shades of gray and red-brown to Kyle. That might have been blood, though? Something was running down his face. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Closer.

Closer.

Darker.

Darker.

Thump.

Thump.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

Kyle groaned in pain.

Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.

Kyle groan as he tried to roll over. Everything hurt! What?

Why?Tha-thump. Tha-thump. His pain seemed to intensify with each thump and he realized it was like the beating of a heart. No. Idiot! Not like. It was the beating of a heart, his heart. Why was he hurting again?

Then he laid there and thought about it a bit and his scattered nightmares resolved themselves into memories. Right. The jackass golems had tried to fry his ass.

“This sucks,” he moaned in self-pity. “Also, not fair. I helped save a city. I feel like I should get to skip out on being in pain for a few weeks at least.” The young warlock wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. Maybe a little bit to his pact item, though it wasn’t sentient like Gleipnir. Few pact items were.

Familiars on the other hand –.

No. Focus.  Kyle scolded himself and he started assessing his body. Opening his eyes, he recognized the familiar flat ceiling of his bedroom. Realizing he was safe, he then decided that it was safe to return to sleep. Which was exactly when he heard the door to his bedroom open and a familiar voice called out to him.

“Who you talking to shorty? There’s nobody in here. I guess I might be talking to myself also if I got hit on the noggin as hard as you had.” Was…? Could Sam just not be rude and Sam all the time? Like, could there be five minutes after waking up when she wasn’t allowed to deliberately provoke people?

“I was complaining to myself.” He groaned at his older sister. “Can I have a healing potion now?” His voice cracked from dryness, and he licked cracked and blistered lips, wincing as he did so. Sam’s response was a low almost malicious chuckle.

“No can-do baby brother. Doctor’s orders. You’ve got magic saturation poisoning.” Though she was laughing her voice also had the slightest hint of empathy. Probably. Maybe. Stupid Gleipnir. It was clearly her pact item’s fault in some way.

“I’ll risk it,” Kyle whispered as his body throbbed in time with each heartbeat.

“What did I tell you?” A second voice pipped up. Lower, more arrogant, with an assumed British accent. “You must know, young man, that this is exactly how you got into this situation. You’re too reckless.” Suddenly the throbbing pain he felt got much worse.

“Stuff it, Gleip. I’m not in the mood.” Summoning his strength, Kyle managed to get his hands under his pillow and pull it around his ears mostly ineffectually.

“Says the guy who killed a dragon-monster from the inside,” Sam added under her breath.

“All I’m saying,” the pontificating Gleipnir continued in his characteristically tone-deaf way, “is that maybe if you were a little more cautious with your use of magic you wouldn’t currently be in this state.” An angry growl emanated from within Kyle’s pillow taco. It was followed closely by a moan of agony.

“That’s enough Gleip. Let him be.” Sam being nice? And not prickly Sam-ish? Sweet! Kyle would take old-Sam any day over post-Gleipnir Sam.

“I was just trying to educat –” But his sister blissfully cut off her pact item before he could be even more annoying.

“I said leave it, Gleip!” Her forceful instruction was met with some mumbled grumbling that faded off into the distance. Kyle supposed that his pseudo-nemesis had wandered off to go offend someone else. But also, the spike of pain he’d felt when Gleipnir had first entered the room subsided a bit and he uncurled from the fetal position he had unconsciously assumed.

“Thank the Gods.” His voice rasped his dry tortured throat.

“Eh. Yeah. Probably feels better to not have a living source of magic so close to you.” Sam’s voice floated closer to the bed as she approached. There was a clunk of something being set on his bedside table “I brought you some water. Adrian and Mom gave you as much first aid as they could, and Mom – in a rare display of motherly affection – pulled strings to get a surprisingly high-level healer to take a look at you and Jones.”

“Adrian?” Cautiously, Kyle opened first one eye and then the other. He was relieved that there was only a slight blurring of his vision.

“Nobody said anything about you having a concussion. Did you forget what your boss’s first name is?” Concern tinted the biting quip, which Kyle ignored as he was determinedly working on stretching a shaky hand out for the glass which was tantalizingly out of reach. Kyle paused in his efforts to fix his sister with a baleful stare.

“Not concussed. Just hating that you call him by his first name. I know your type. It will start by calling him by his first name then next thing you know Gleip and I are commiserating at the wedding reception that my stupidly sexy boss, who is followed around the museum by vampire groupies, is now our brother-in-law.”

“Not if I tie him to a lamp post first like I did to the last asshole who broke Sammy’s heart,” Gleip called from the living room. Kyle and Sam laughed at that. Then something occurred to Sam, and she stopped abruptly.

“Wait! Someone did actually tie that last prick I dated to a streetlight post. The cops thought it was the boyfriend of one of the chicks he was trying to hook up with at the bar that night.” Gleipnir poked his googly-eyed ‘head’ around the door frame for a second and Sam narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Welp, that’s my queue to make myself scarce.”

Kyle smiled and then groaned and rubbed his aching chest. That was good. At least Gleipnir was always looking out for his sis, even if it meant Kyle had to share his former best friend with the pact item. Then he went back to reaching for the delicious water that was just out of reach. After a bit, his sister took pity on him and helped him get something to drink. Moments later, he had laid back down and was asleep once again.