Chapter 318

Are you going to make me regret this?

I kept an eye on Vernon in the rearview, the same question running through my mind, over and over. The entire time we’d spent packing up his office he’d been a complete chatterbox, nervously reviewing his packing list out loud. Now he was silent in the back seat, pale hands folded on pleated pants, engulfed in a sweater that seemed to swallow him from the neck down. He’d shaved his head in a hurry. The dark shadow that remained, shaped along the angles of his aggressively receding hairline, gave him an almost villainous cast.

“Cold?” I asked, twisting around to face him.

His fingers traced the sweater’s stitching. “Always.” He cocked his head, trying to get a better look. “My daughter… she’s really here?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Odd.” His tone grew distant, edgy. “Because I could have sworn this was the O’Hare Garage. Which doesn’t service anything residential.”

Something swirled, just to the side of my vision.

“Mr. Client?” Jackson snapped, eyes darting around the car’s roof.

“It’s fine. Both of you.” I tried to calm him, all the while ready to pull the <Magebane Garrote> and subdue by force if necessary. We were too close to the finish line for kid gloves. “Kinsley’s done well for herself. Carved out considerable wealth, territory, and influence in an insanely short period of time. That sort of meteoric rise doesn’t come without making a few enemies, so she’s careful.”

“Hence, the security of a parking garage?” Vernon asked doubtfully.

“Like I said. In a manner of speaking.”

There was an audible snap as endless parking spaces and dull yellow lights vanished, bathing the car in darkness. Pale white lights of distant stars flickered overhead, blotted out by infrequent street lamps as the car continued down a crunching gravel road.

“Extraordinary,” Vernon breathed.

Beside me, Jackson was panning the road, just as taken aback. “Believe it or not, this is bigger than it used to be, like, three days ago. There wasn’t a driveway the last time.”

I shifted, trying to get a full view of the perimeter. “Pretty sure there wasn’t an outside at all. Just the interior.”

The copse of trees lining either side of the gravel road gave the typically cozy sanctum an ominous feeling, part private estate, part haunted mansion. The iron gates creaked open on their own, and the dimly lit roundabout driveway did little to ease that tension.

Lights were on inside, but the feel of the place was off enough that I considered scouting out the perimeter.

I felt the explosion in my chest a second before I heard it. Instinctively, I reached back and pushed Vernon down, getting him out of the line of fire as the darkness fled in a wash of crimson.

Instead of gunning it, Jackson eased off the accelerator and came to a stop.

“Relax. It’s the welcome party.”

Several explosions detonated, one after another, and the sky was filled with multi-colored fireworks.

The double doors at the edge of the long stairwell were thrown open, and a stream of armed mercenaries in dark armor with orange accents poured out, marching down either side, assembling in front of the mansion in two formations.

Vernon watched the display, pressed close to the car window, struggling to comprehend what he was seeing.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

“Should probably go grab a spot.” Jackson parked and tossed me the keys, exiting the car and jogging over to the assembled group on the left-hand side.

Vernon grabbed a doorhandle, eyes wide in wonder and anticipation.

“Hold up,” I said, scanning the group for Kinsley, who was yet to be seen.

“Is there a problem?”