Rich Boy: Awakening - 14. Chapter 14

Yes, this was a fitting place. Michael Sinclair thought to himself as he looked around the rusting building at the old abandoned mine. He’d first visited this place with Tom, who had been bespelled by Byron Jones to bring Michael to him. It had been his first battle against a man who had taught him magic, and it would suit Michael’s purposes now.

“I like it.” Brandon said with a smile as he walked around the building. Neither of them had any idea what it had been used for, but it was at least three stories tall, and pretty much empty. Far above them sunlight filtered through plastic coverings that were filthy, giving the place an odd, shadowed appearance. Columns, supports, and walkways were all over, but there was plenty of empty room in the middle, and that was what Michael wanted.

“Let’s get started.” Michael said and Brandon nodded, crossing over to sit across from him in his black and green riding leathers. They’d ridden their bikes up here, so Michael was dressed in his black and yellow gear. Their bikes were parked outside, with their helmets and gloves on top. As Brandon shifted on the rough concrete floor and got as comfortable as he could, he opened up the link with Michael on his end, and power flowed into Michael, power that he joined with his own to spin out wards.

The simple truth was that he needed a place to practice his magic, and he could not do that at home. Stacy and Elizabeth’s home was a place of Light magic, and while it tolerated his presence, it would not be a good place to practice the kinds of magic he intended to practice, and he intended to teach. Brandon had mentioned this place, and had even made arrangements for their legitimate use of the place. What those arrangements were, Michael neither knew, nor cared. That was Brandon’s job, and as long as they could work here without being disturbed, or accused of trespassing, that was all that mattered.

First he spun wards to strengthen the structural integrity of this place. It would not do to have it fall down on top of him. He watched as the wards fitted into place, strengthening the rusted metal beams, connecting the walls to the earth, and the roof more solidly to the walls. Then he tied the wards to the ground, connecting them to the living, power-generating life around them.

He had learned that there was much more of that in the desert than most people imagined, and up here in the mountains, life was teeming all around. Every living thing generated power that a capable mage could tap into. Light-bound fools often thought they were expert at tapping into those forms of life, but Dark mages knew just as many ways, and not all of them required harm to a living being.

Michael had to be careful in setting the terms under which the wards could draw power from the life around them, though. An earthquake in this region, or a massive wind storm, could cause enough stress on the building that the wards would drain all available power. Unlike Light-based spells, these would drain the power even to the point of killing the life. That was how many dead spots were created around places of Dark Magic. Careless setting by the mage meant that a particularly fierce windstorm drained all life, killing everything within a mile of the location, whether it was necessary or not.

If Michael was not here, in this building, it could collapse for all he cared. Losing the building was not worth creating a dead circle around it that would scream A Dark Mage is HERE! No, it would be better to let the place collapse than have that happen. The truth was he didn’t want the guilt of killing so much life just to save a building either. He was coming to accept he was a Dark Mage, but he didn’t have to be as callous about life as the others.

Next came wards of containment, to keep what occurred inside here from escaping. He would be practicing and training in here, and he didn’t want anything getting outside. That included sound, of course. He could fill the building with hundreds of people screaming, and someone standing outside the door would hear nothing. A person looking through one of the grimy windows would see nothing.

More wards were spun from him and settled on the walls. Wards to prevent scrying, wards to prevent anyone from entering unless they were ‘keyed’ into the wards by Michael. Brandon was set and keyed at that moment, and others would come later. Then there were wards to warn him if he was inside and someone else approached.

Last came the real shields, the barriers of protection that would protect him when he was inside. These he made as strong as he could, knowing full well that each time he came, he would be adding to their strength. Brandon was growing tired. Even his prodigious resources as a channel were being taxed to the limit by the setting of these wards. Proper warding took weeks, months, even years to get just right.

Stacy had a warded workroom that she had spent years getting just right. She still increased them, renewed them, reinforced them, and added new wards every so often. Keeping your workroom in top condition was a life-long enterprise, she’d said several times where he could hear.

Now there was a woman that confused him a great deal. She was a Light Mage, an Earth-Mage at that, and still she was his greatest defender. Stacy had the greatest tolerance of his darkness, and rarely criticized him, even when she had found out what he’d done with Rob, which had been yesterday, a week after it had happened, she’d just nodded stoically and made no comment. She’d handed Rob to him, after all, and told him to deal with the untrained Dark Mage.

Barrett de Long had been much more volatile in his response, and had been greatly concerned when his healing, that rushing waterfall inside Michael’s mind had done less than he had expected. The Dark channels inside Michael were stronger, more prevalent, and that worried the man, but Stacy didn’t seem concerned.

“He is a Dark Mage.” She had said. “We keep hoping we can change him, but he is what he is after all. Still, he understands now certain things better than he did before. I won’t say I’ll always approve of what he does, or how he deals with things, but he’ll do better than most of his type.”

His lessons with her were ended though at that point. When next he integrated memories from Worthington, memories he needed for what he was doing today, it had been Jamie who monitored him, not her. She’d allowed the use of her workroom, but that was all. Even as he and Jamie had sat down on the ground, preparing, she’d walked out. At least she hadn’t refused to allow Jamie to help him.

Maybe he was growing more accustomed to the memories, or maybe Jamie’s presence in his mind, a burning flame of brightness had kept them from being as strong, but as he cut the geas and seized the parts he wanted before shoving it back into the sphere, integrating those memories had proven to be less difficult.

Not that they were easy, and afterwards Jamie had been very, very quiet, going to his room and not saying a word to him. In fact, Jamie had not said a word for two days after, but yesterday he had been back to his normal, happy self. Since many of those memories had dealt with sexual encounters of one form or another, he thought he understood Jamie’s reactions.

Michael had wanted memories of warding and protection spells, and that was exactly what he’d gotten, although the geas had surrendered more of itself than he’d expected. With memories of lessons on warding had come lessons on tapping into the powers of life around a mage. Some of those memories had been quite dark, and he was embarrassed that Jamie had seen them.

Even mundanes produced mage energy, and could be tapped for power in careful circumstances. Jamie had shared with him, even as he was integrating memories of Dark methods, some of the methods used by Light mages. They were nothing like what the Dark used, though. Both of his parents had taught Michael their methods for draining mundanes of power, and he’d learned another reason why they changed household staff every few years.

The dungeon under their house had received more use than just for the purposes he’d seen last time. Pain, and sex were the two best ways for a Dark mage to pull power from a mundane. Combine the two and the result was even more power, and his parents had been quite adept at increasing their pool of power by taking the household staff down there and using them. Because Michael was more interested in men, sexually, it was his mother who taught him most of those tricks. His father had taught him with a few women though, just so he would know.

The last of the wards for this session were spun out from Michael, and he let the link with Brandon drop for the moment. Jamie had offered to come with them, but Michael had refused. For all that they were close, Jamie was still a Light mage and this was not to be a place of Light magic.

“I’m going to lie down.” Brandon said tiredly, going to where he’d dropped his backpack and took out an energy drink while Michael stayed where he was. Brandon stretched out and was dozing within two minutes of the link being dropped. Michael, on the other hand, felt very little tiredness from the massive amount of spell work he’d just accomplished. This was the benefit of having such a powerful and experienced channel at his disposal. With planning, he could use a channel to cast his spells without tiring himself, or draining his own store of power.

Rob’s hatchback Honda was pulling up to the gate, Michael sensed through the wards. It was almost a vision the magic was showing him, and he grinned. So this was what it felt like to hold wards. A thought opened the gates for Rob’s car, and he watched the blond drive up to the building and park near their bikes. He could sense Rob’s nervousness, and smiled to himself.

“Hello?” Rob’s voice echoed in the room as he entered, and looked down at Brandon’s relaxed form. Brandon didn’t even stir. Michael had keyed the wards to allow Rob’s entry even as the blond was getting out of his car. Rob had dressed to impress, with one of those skin-tight workout undershirts showing off his chest and arm muscles, and tight jeans. He even was wearing a large gold choker around his throat.

“Over here.” Michael called as he stood up, and Rob quickly crossed the floor, going to one knee in front of Michael.

“Stand up.” Michael snapped, unwilling to play the games that Rob seemed to enjoy. The guy had some pretty whacked notions about his relationship to Michael. He wasn’t much of a reader, but he’d apparently read one too many novels about medieval magicians or something.

“Yes, master.” Rob said as he kept his eyes pointed at the ground.

“Look at me, Rob.” Michael snapped, and Rob’s head rose reluctantly. There was a look of fear there, but as soon as their eyes met, Michael surged across into Rob’s mind and took firm control, sifting through the memories of his life since the last time they’d met.

Rob was having a miserable week. The limits Michael had placed on his abilities meant he couldn’t do everything he would normally do, and so he’d gotten into two fights, and actually almost been suspended because he couldn’t ‘zap’ the Principal like he’d done in the past. He’d gotten off by begging, though, and only received two weeks of detention, including the dreaded Saturday Detention. He’d almost lost his place on the wrestling team, as well. Even that was more difficult now, since he had to work to win his matches instead of ‘zapping’ his opponent at the right moment. Rob was adapting though, finding strength he didn’t even know he had because Michael had told him to always do his best.

He was also miserable because he was actually doing his own homework now. Michael had insisted he earn his grades on his own, and flat out told him he was not allowed to fail any classes. Rob wasn’t the brightest of people, even he was willing to admit that now. It took a lot of time, time he’d once used to have fun, but now spent doing homework. Still, his grades were holding steady for the last week, and he felt he could at least maintain the current average he had, just as Michael had ordered.

“Very good, Rob.” Michael whispered as he withdrew from the young man’s mind. Rob was actually three months older than him, but sometimes he thought of Rob as a little boy. That was because he understood that Rob’s emotional development was stunted. He’d never grown out of that thirteen-year-old bully he’d been. As far as Michael could tell, he would never fully grow out of that, he’d just change in the ways Michael changed him.

“Thank you, master.” Rob said as his head moved downwards and his eyes went back to the ground again.

“Hold your head tall, boy.” Michael snapped angrily and Rob’s head jerked up. “I thought you’d understand by now.”

“I’m sorry, master.” Rob practically whined. “I don’t understand…”

“Let me explain it to you, then.” Michael said as he began to pace three paces left, and then three paces to the right, all in front of Rob. He stopped in front of the blond and looked at him until Rob met his gaze. “You are a reflection on me. Whether people know you are mine or not, everything you do is a reflection on me. They may not know it now, but eventually people will know you are mine, and then they will watch you. Everything you do, everything you say must reflect positively on me. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, sir.” Rob said with eyes that had gone slightly wide.

“How you dress, how you walk, how you stand, everything about you must reflect positively on me.” Michael continued in a harsh voice. “You must not act subservient. Sinclairs are proud of all they’ve done, but not overly proud. Don’t rub it in their faces, but let them see the pride you have in what you are. Always dress your best. If you are working hard doing dirty work, you will wear appropriate work clothes of course, but they will be clean, neat, and fit you properly. When you are supposed to dress up, you will wear good clothes, properly pressed. You do not want to look like a slut, like you do today, either. If you’re not sure how to dress, call Brandon and get his advice.”

“Yes, sir.” Rob said and lowered his head as he blushed in shame.

“Why are you lowering your head?” Michael snapped. “Even when you’re in the wrong, you hold your head up, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Rob said softly and raised his head back up. He was as hard as a rock in his jeans, something Michael ignored for now.

“That’s better.” Michael said. “Now, have you been practicing?”

“Yes, sir.” Rob said with a little bit of a smile now.

“Let’s see it.” Michael ordered, and watched with his other-sense as Rob fumbled towards his center and found equilibrium, albeit clumsily. That was the first lesson he’d taught the blond. While Rob wasn’t anywhere near as good as he needed to be at it yet, he was better than he had been. “Decent, but it’s more like this.”

Michael then showed Rob what he meant, going through the motions of centering and finding his equilibrium with a slowness that was almost painful. He did it automatically most of the time, and showing it step by step took a level of control that was almost painful for him. They ran through the exercises for nearly a half-hour, and at the end of that time, Rob was quicker still in finding his center, although his equilibrium took some work.

“You’ll need to practice that.” Michael said with a sigh. “Spend a half-hour doing it each night before you go to bed.”

“Yes, sir.” Rob said softly, but he didn’t lower his head or look at the ground. Good, he was learning.

“Now, let’s move on to shielding.” Michael continued, and began to explain the difference between low and high magic, and the different shielding types for each. Today they would focus on mental shields. Rob’s barriers were most basic, and needed to be much better. Already Michael knew him well enough to know that Rob would never master all the various subtle variations on shields that were possible. Rob was not a person to really comprehend subtlety. He could grasp the basics though, and that was where they started.

Two hours later, Michael called a halt to their lesson. Brandon had woken from his nap, refreshed enough that he would be able to make the ride home without any problem, although he’d probably sleep the rest of the night without a problem. Michael was beginning to grow tired, too, but was still in decent shape. Rob was soaking wet from sweating though. Michael had tested his mental shields, and every time they were lacking he’d given Rob a painful metal switching. The blue shirt he was wearing was already developing white salt rings from the sweat that had leached through.

“Practice your shielding every morning.” Michael ordered as he finished. “We will meet back here next week, same time.”

“Yes, master.” Rob said tiredly, but there was a look on his face as he went to his knees in front of Michael. “Have I done well enough?”

“Yes.” Michael said with a sigh, and didn’t move as Rob unbuttoned his leather pants and pulled out his soft cock. If the boy wanted a load of his cum, he’d have to work at it, and Rob did, sucking Michael’s flaccid penis into his mouth, and swirling his tongue around it in a way that made Michael react without even thinking. Jeremy floated up in his mind, but he pushed those thoughts away. He hadn’t told Jeremy any of this, beyond that Rob had been ‘taken care of’ for what he’d done.

It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to Jeremy. He wanted to tell Jeremy the truth, that he allowed Rob to suck him off as a reward for good behavior. It was the reward Rob had asked for after that first time, and Michael couldn’t refuse him that. He’d forbidden Rob any other sexual outlet, and last time Rob had shot his own load after Michael had filled his mouth with cum.

Michael wanted to tell Jeremy that he deserved better. Jeremy deserved to know that no matter how much he wanted to, Michael could not be all that Jeremy deserved to have in a lover. Every time he saw Jeremy, he was determined to tell him, but when he saw the smile on Jeremy’s face, or the welcome in those hazel eyes, or the tenderness in Jeremy’s every touch, his resolve crumbled.

So far, he and Jeremy had not moved beyond kissing, and a little groping, and part of him hoped they would not move beyond that before he got up the nerve to tell Jeremy the truth. Even as he reached his full erection, Michael allowed himself to imagine that this was Jeremy, not Rob, sucking on his large cock, and he began to thrust himself into Rob’s mouth with passion. Rob’s hands reached around, and grabbed his leather-clad buttocks, pulling him deeper into Rob’s mouth. It wasn’t long before Michael was shooting another load into Rob, and the vision of Jeremy faded to the blond thuggish features of Rob, even as Rob’s body shook with his own orgasm. His own hard cock was out of his jeans, and spilling its seed onto the concrete blow him. When his body stopped shaking, he leaned into Michael, resting his head against Michael’s thigh. After a minute, he kissed Michael’s cock before stuffing it back into his underwear and buttoning up the leather pants.

“Thank you, Master.” Rob whispered as he stood back up, and looked at Michael with pride in his face.

“Keep up the good work, Rob.” Michael said gently and Rob grinned like a dog who had just been patted on the head. The wards tingled in Michael’s mind at that moment, and he closed his eyes as the vision of black SUV pulling up to the gates appeared in his mind. A familiar figure got out of the vehicle, and he felt a stab of fear as the man sent a gentle ‘knock’ of power against the wards, announcing his presence. Taking a deep breath, Michael debated, but decided if the man was here for something sinister, he would have done more than knock, and would not have approached so openly. There were ways to hide from the outer wards, and the man had to have sensed them.

“Brandon, we have company.” Michael said flatly, and Brandon was immediately awake, standing up and dusting off his clothing as Michael informed him who was approaching through the gates he’d just opened. Brandon was as nervous as he was, and Rob just looked confused.

“Look, stand here, like this, just behind Michael.” Brandon said to Rob as he crossed over to them, and maneuvered Rob into an appropriate position behind Michael and to the left. Brandon took up a position behind and to his right, the position of favor. Nor did he stop his instructions. “Don’t speak, even when spoken to without permission from Michael first. Don’t react, don’t do anything, and keep those shields of yours up unless Michael tells you to lower them. If trouble starts, just keep yourself shielded so Michael doesn’t have to protect you. Don’t do anything unless he tells you.”

“I got it.” Rob half-snarled, and then looked apologetically at Michael, who just nodded at him. The door they had all entered through opened, and in strode Byron Jones, flanked once again by Mitchell and David. The Housemaster, and one-time instructor of Michael entered the room and moved until he stood within a few feet of Michael and the others, looking around with a critical eye.

“Very well done, although they look very, very new.” Byron Jones said with a critical tone. “I’d say they were just set today.”

“What are you doing here?” Michael asked without responding to the man’s accurate assessment.

“Who is this?” Jones asked with a look over at Rob. “Oh my, an undiscovered mage, and from those shields, he is Dark. Your pupil?”

“For now.” Michael said with a shrug.

“You could send him to us, if you wish him to be trained.” Jones offered.

“He is none of your concern.” Michael said, unwilling to say that Rob would never succeed at that school, academically or magically.

“I see.” Jones said. “You appear to be remembering more of your training I see.”

“What are you doing here?” Michael repeated.

“I have come to check on your progress, Worthington.” Jones said haughtily. “You are my prized pupil, and I want to make sure you are doing well.”

“My life is no longer your concern.” Michael snapped. “Leave me alone.”

“What you did with young Carl was most impressive.” Jones snapped back. “Very dangerous as well. Lucky for you he now feels some sense of loyalty to you, or I’d have had him killed. We cannot afford loose cannons like him on our deck!”

“You better not harm him.” Michael snarled angrily, and his hands began to glow with power.

“Oh stop that.” Jones said dismissively. “It’s obvious your light-blinded relatives have infected you with some form of sentimentality. Lucky for you it was enough to ensure the Carl boy feels obligation to you, and does not seek to pursue anything more than his own continued freedom. He will have that freedom, for all the good it does him.”

“That is well.” Michael said and released the flare of power. He did not want to have to fight.

“David, Mitchell, wait outside.” Jones said and raised an eyebrow at Michael, as if challenging him. Michael considered it for a moment and decided he would hear whatever the man had to say. With a nod he dismissed Brandon. Rob didn’t move, though until Michael nodded at him too.

“Your new boy at least knows how to behave.” Jones said deprecatingly. “Actually one of our scouts had seen him last year, but reported the boy was only of moderate potential and lacked the necessary intelligence to be worthy of our time.”

“So you knew about him?” That surprised Michael.

“Yes.” Jones said with a sigh. “Not worthy of our attention, but if he didn’t kill himself in a year or two, he might have been worthy of one of our lower institutions. I believe Harper Security was considering offering him training as a bodyguard if he survived to eighteen.”

“I will remember that.” Michael said, and meant it. Bodyguard would be a perfect fit for Rob’s mentality and mental acuity. Rob wasn’t an idiot, by any means, but neither was he particularly intelligent. Yes, that would be a good fit. Not in charge of security, but a regular presence behind Michael would be appropriate.

“Worthington, have you had enough of this light-blinded foolishness yet?” Jones asked with a tired sigh. “Are you ready to return to the fold?”

“I will go my own path, Mr. Jones.” Michael said firmly. “Most people call me Michael, now.”

“You will always be Worthington, one of my most-prized pupils.” The man said with a heavy tone.

“Your pupil that had to be bound under geas and compulsion most of the time.” Michael spat angrily.

“I argued a tremendous deal with your father about that.” Jones said sadly. “I could see this possible outcome, and felt it was doing you more damage than good, but your father insisted on this course of action.”

“Well, now you see the result.” Michael shrugged. “You can take consolation in the fact that you were right.”

“You have begun integrating with the geas, with the darkness, and it is leaving as much of a mark on you as the Light mages are in their efforts to convert you.” Jones stated and Michael chuckled. “What is so funny?”

“Those light-blinded fools as you call them see a little more clearly than you.” Michael laughed openly. “They understand I am what I am and accept me as such. I am not ever going to be a Light-path mage. I am a Dark Mage, but I will walk my own path, choose my actions, my own way.”

“Well, now that is interesting.” Jones smiled and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Very well, I accept your decision, Michael.”

“Why should that matter to me?” Michael asked, although he was surprised at the man using his name.

“Because, once every four weeks I will come here, to your workroom, and consent to teach you the High Magics, the lessons that will allow you to achieve your status as an Adept.” Jones stated imperiously. “You will learn what I teach, but I will not teach anything unless you first accept it as a lesson. Once I begin teaching it though, you will see it through to the end. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, and I agree.” Michael said although part of him wanted to refuse. He knew learning Dark Magics from the man might make the geas stronger instead of weaker, but he also knew his education was not complete yet. Someday, and maybe soon, he would have to face down his Uncle, who was a fully-trained Dark Mage. He would not survive that encounter with his current level of training. “You will not seek to interfere with me or mine, or harm those who help me. That includes my relatives here, and Carl, as well as the two outside and any mundanes I associate with.”

“Agreed.” Jones said without hesitation. “Now, to offer you your first lessons. Your warding here is incomplete. I offer to teach you High Wards, which will protect this location from discovery by advanced finding spells, and from attack by low magic as well as the earth-magics.”

“I accept.” Michael said without hesitation, and Jones began the lesson without any hesitation. The lesson lasted for nearly two hours, and Michael understood at the end how much he had left to learn. There were so many ways around the wards he’d set that what he’d thought was nearly perfect now appeared to have been full of holes. Most of those holes were covered now, but there were a few things he had balked at doing, only learning the concept of instead of the actual practice. Blood magic was needed to protect from certain blood spells, and he was neither willing nor had the resources at hand to do more than those that merely required his own blood.

Still, as required by his agreement he learned at least the concepts of those other spells, and knew he could cast them if he ever needed, or wanted to cast them. They were not needed here, for this place, but he knew deep down they would be required to protect his home when he left his Aunt’s. There were other methods, Light methods of protecting from these blood-based spells, but he was not a Light mage and they might as well not exist as far as he was concerned.

“Well done, for the most part.” Jones said when they were finished. Both of them were sweating, but where Jones had beads of sweat on his forehead, Michael was soaked to the bone.

“Thank you for teaching.” Michael said slowly, and he narrowed his eyes a bit. “Why are you so willing to teach me?”

“It should suffice that I have my reasons.” Jones said peremptorily. Then he smiled at the expression on Michael’s face. “You Sinclairs have always been so controlled. Your fathers exert an iron hand on you from an early age, and you normally walk in the path they set for you, never putting a foot out of line. Your Uncle was different though, resisting that iron control, and that was why he was disinherited in the end. I have taught four generations of Sinclairs now, and only two of them have showed as much promise, you and your Uncle.”

“You’re not that old.” Michael snorted and Jones laughed.

“There is blood magic that extends life.” Jones said. “Few are powerful enough to utilize it fully. Your father could, to a point, as could your grandfather. You know the techniques of draining power from a person? Good, yes, your expression tells me you remember that much. It is possible to go one step further for strong enough mages, and touch the essence of life itself. Your father could do that, and used it to preserve his youthful appearance and vigor. That is all most mages are capable of doing, and only the strongest. It still takes years of life off of the subject – drain too much at one time and the subject dies, which we try to avoid at all costs. More powerful mages, such as your Uncle, and yourself, and me of course, are able to do more. It is possible to actually extend the span of your life, not just restore youthful vigor for all of your lifespan.

“The subject must be young of course, and a virgin, which is amazingly difficult to find in this day and age.” Jones continued although Michael found himself both not wanting to listen and morbidly interested. “The subject must be under sixteen, of course, and as I said a virgin. The process ages them greatly, too. They will start sprouting gray hairs almost immediately, and die of old age before they reach fifty, but you will gain every year they have lost. You only need to do it once every two decades or so, and you can extend your life for a hundred years or more.”

“I have no desire to learn that.” Michael said firmly, but he knew that was at least a partial lie. Still, the part of him that wanted to learn it was not all that strong, and it was more just a morbid curiosity, to learn everything he could. There was no need, at least for another fifty years to know such a trick.

“No, you don’t, at least not yet.” Jones chuckled at him. “Still, as to why I teach you, it is because you show more potential than any other Sinclair since your Uncle, and more than him, in your own way. If you survive your struggle with him, you will grow to be a powerful Mage, and a powerful figure in the world of business. Having you as an ally will be a good thing for me. I also look forward to your children, and you sending them to me for instruction.”

“We’ll see about that when the time comes.” Michael said sourly and Jones chuckled again.

“We will.” He agreed. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a long flight home before classes resume tomorrow. I will see you here, in four weeks, same day, same time.”

“Until then.” Michael agreed and watched the man leave. After he was gone, Brandon and Rob came back in and waited for him in silence. “We might as well head back home.”

“Everything okay?” Brandon asked with a worried look.

“Just fine.” Michael said with a tired sigh, and gave Rob some more instructions for the next week. The drive back down the mountain was actually relaxing for him, and he laughed as Brandon and he passed Jones’s SUV on the way down. Although he wanted to go to bed, Brandon reminded him that they’d promised to go riding with Josh, Tom, and the others that night.

The house was empty when they got home, and went inside. They each went to their own rooms and took short naps before getting dressed (Michael frowned that his leathers were still a bit damp from his earlier sweating) and heading out to meet the rest of the motorcycle gang. They weren’t really a gang, just a group of friends out for a fun night of riding.

After an hour of riding, Michael knew it had been the right thing to do. The group was in a good mood, and the energy they were throwing off was contagious. He found that he was smiling under his helmet as Tom and Brandon flirted with each other in an unconscious dance of their bikes around each other. Josh was in a good mood as well, and so were the others, breaking out in impromptu races several times, and managing to terrorize several groups of snowbirds, elderly people who made Phoenix their home during the winter.

When they got home later that night, both Michael and Brandon were laughing, and Michael managed to go to sleep for the first time in over a week without feeling conflicted or dread about Light and Dark magic. For that evening, he’d been just another teenager out with his friends, having fun, and that carried over into sleep filled only with normal dreams.