Rich Boy: Awakening - 22. Chapter 22

“You have a mighty fine problem there, Sir Sinclair.” Domas, First Councilor to the dwarven King Odros said with a grunt. He stood next to Worthington, looking at the same map that had once again drawn Worthington’s attention. Here, in the workroom building of the mine to the east of Phoenix, they were supposedly gathered to begin negotiations, but as they took a break, Worthington had found himself looking at the map again. With a shake of his head, he took a sip of the dwarven drink he’d been offered, and enjoyed its strong, earthy flavors.

“Go easy on that, lad.” The dwarf laughed softly.

“There is no alcohol in this, right?” Worthington asked.

“No, but there’s enough caffeine in there to kick-start a mule.” Domas said with a wide grin. Tonight he was wearing a curiously fashioned set of clothes that looked like metal plates, but seemed to be made of some type of cloth. There was no axe on his belt of woven silver plates, and a large gold chain hung from his neck. For his part, Worthington wore a pair of pure black riding leathers, and a white silk shirt. The pants, and black riding jacket that rested on a hook near the entrance were store-bought, not custom fitted, but were still snug enough. In the last few weeks he’d managed to put a good thousand miles on the best Ducati he could find in the local showrooms, but could not wait for the custom-made replacement that was on order.

“It’s good.” Worthington complimented the drink, knowing that courtesy at least was something the dwarves seemed to appreciate. There were six here today, all junior to Domas, and they were standing around the room talking to the humans present. It had been tough finding enough people to fill out the required number. Light mages were out of the question. Things with the Light mages were still to fragile to introduce dark dwarves into the mix. Jamie stood on the far side of the room, looking at dwarven-made copper bracelets with a dwarf whose skin was brown like milk chocolate. Rob sat discussing weapons with another dwarf whose skin was the blackest Worthington had yet seen. Brandon and Carl were standing in the kitchen area, showing two dwarves how they made coffee.

He’d been forced to round out the numbers to match the dwarven contingent with mundanes. Barry and Dave had enjoyed their status as ‘heroes’ for their involvement in that first night of fighting with demons. The discoveries by others of six more mage families slain as they fled Phoenix had given more of them some bragging rights, although all of them had managed to lose the contents of their stomachs. Tonight, though, he’d chose Jim, and Aaron. That had been because of all the people in the gang, the two of them had the best manners, and the most ‘refinement’. They were also two of the most handsome, although in different ways. Jim was shorter, stocky, and built like a brick shithouse. Aaron was taller, thin, and moved with a gymnast’s grace. He figured the two of them would make the best impression on the dwarves of the humans who ‘served’ him.

“Demons are a nasty business.” Domas said with a grunt as he studied the maps, and the red pins that marked the places where the fleeing mage families had been killed, the attack on Madam Calhoun, and the attacks on two other mages since then. One of those attacks had succeeded, a businessman who had been working late at night in his downtown skyscraper. He’d thought he’d be safe there, and hadn’t called for an escort or company as he left.

His widow had been kind enough to not blame Worthington for her late husband’s bad choices, although Roger had certainly tried to lay the blame for that death square on Worthington’s shoulders. None of the other Light families had, though, and two had asked him for versions of the anklets his Riders wore. Both families now had silver necklaces on all their family members, and while one woman complained about the dark magic leaving a rash on her skin, all of them wore them.

“Yes, they are.” Worthington agreed, but smiled grimly as he remembered the last attack, against a home on the far south side of Phoenix, in the Ahwatukee suburb. That suburb was difficult to get in and out of, especially in the cul-de-sacs in the far back. The lone mage family that lived out there had been a prime target, and so Worthington had waited after the attack on the businessman. A demon had died that night, destroyed under Worthington’s relentless strikes of frostfire. His summoning mage would have died too, except for the portal he’d prepared. Those portals were becoming a nuisance, one whose riddle he’d have to resolve soon enough. “They die though, and they’ll remember that now.”

“Demons remember the name of Sinclair as surely as we do.” Domas laughed. “For all that you are just a pup, you are doing fairly well at the Bargaining. You will finish these demons and their summoners before too long.”

“Flattery will get you nothing at the table, Domas.” Worthington laughed.

“A dwarf has to try, does he not?” Domas chuckled. “The words were meant though, lad. You defend your people well, even if they are Light-scum.”

“They’re not my people.” Worthington stated flatly and the dwarf laughed so loud he drew everyone’s looks for a moment.

“Pup, you get rid of those demons and those idiot mages will follow you for the rest of your life whether they swear to you or not.” Domas was still chuckling as he spoke. “They may not say the words, but you will own them heart and soul, and it’ll be the best thing that ever happens in their Light-blinded lives.”

“We’ll see.” Worthington allowed with a slight nod of his head.

“What’s this yellow pin for?” The dwarf asked, pointing out a yellow pin that was stuck in the map over the Phoenix Zoo.

“You know what a Zoo is?” Worthington asked and the dwarf snorted. “Two days ago there was a disturbance at the one operated by the City of Phoenix. Several of the animals were found slaughtered, but I can’t tell if it was demons or something else.”

“Which animals?” The dwarf asked with a frown.

“Two tigers, and a cheetah.” Worthington replied.

“Bah, I thought you were a good lad.” The dwarf growled. “Do you not know your lore, boy?”

“I’m not fully trained yet, remember?” Worthington retorted. “I’m just being forced to act like I am because of circumstances. My teacher will not even come close to this area as long as there are demons in the area. None of the Adepts I’ve tried to contact will even return my phone calls or my e-mails.”

“Stupid, ignorant humans.” Domas growled. Worthington didn’t tell the dwarf how he had argued with Byron Jones, or the one Adept who had actually talked to him on the phone. They had laughed at his argument that letting the demons gain a foothold here would threaten a new round of Demon Wars. Jones had flat out told him the Dark Adepts were watching the area with interest, to gauge Worthington’s potential. If he had enough power to stop the demons, they would learn that. If he died, they believed they might be able to watch a Light Adept or two die as they moved against the demons. The Light Adepts were doing much the same thing. “I may regret this with you being a Sinclair, but here’s a bit of history. Call it a return on the favor of your informing us of the demons in the first place. That was not required for our Bargain, and you gave it free, without a price. I will pay that price now.”

“Your advice would be helpful.” Worthington admitted.

“You said these mages use Portals to escape.” The dwarf said in a low voice. “Not many remember this, but Portals are gateways between here and one of the lower planes. That is why they require the life of a child to open.”

“I thought it was just a life.” Worthington admitted.

“No, lad, it requires the life of an innocent child who has not yet tasted the pleasures of the flesh, even of their own flesh if you understand my meaning.” Domas said in a low voice.

“I think I see what you mean.” Worthington replied with a little smile. So, it required a child who hadn’t even masturbated yet.

“Yes, well you should.” The dwarf chuckled again. “The person traveling by portal is carried by a Ferdun. Do you know them?”

“No.” Worthington admitted.

“I thought not.” The dwarf said with a pleased look on his face. “Ferdun are dog-like creatures, fearsome hunters. You can use a portal, once, twice, even a third or fourth time, but the more you use them, the more the Ferdun want in payment. They treasure the flesh of hunter cats, and if a person uses a portal enough, they will require additional payment. A person wishing to appease a Ferdun might open a gateway to this realm, where the Ferdun can find and devour a hunting cat.”

“I see.” Worthington replied. “And I thank you for your payment, though none was expected.”

“It is always best to pay a debt before it accrues interest.” The dwarf said seriously. “Mayhap we had best resume our discussions before the hour grows so late you humans drift off to sleep no matter how much caffeine we give you to keep you awake.”

“Yes, that is a good idea.” Worthington agreed. This new information helped, but he did not have any ideas yet on how to use that. There were still more cats at the Zoo, but would the Ferdun require payment again sometime soon, and where had the mages been going that required portal travel? Were they returning to the Phoenix area from wherever they fled to after a battle? Every time they used the Portals, they went south. He was considering heading down south, or maybe sending Jamie down there to hunt for where the Portals might be taking them.

This was actually the second bargaining session with the dwarves, and he was certain they were nearing a final agreement. Legend said the Dark Dwarves were hard bargainers, and would steal the shirt off your back if you didn’t make sure they agreed to leave it on you, and even then might kill you so they could take the shirt after you were dead, so you had to make sure you included that you could not be killed while you were still alive. Then all you had to worry about was being in a situation where you were threatened with death and had to depend on that dwarf to save you. They might just let you die so then they could have your shirt.

The dwarves wanted three things from this agreement. First of course was the slag heaps that were filled with refuse from the mine. He’d figured out they used the material in their forges to create whatever it was they used to create electricity in their halls of stone. What the process was, he had no idea, but they burned stuff that would be considered toxic to humans, and used it well.

Next they wanted the copper and other metals as well as some gems they said were in the land beneath this building, land that he now owned. Whatever humans thought of the value of the land, they believed there were enough raw ores and gemstones to make it quite valuable, and the mere fact that they tried to pretend it was ‘mere’ scraps meant they wanted it badly. They’d started offering three percent, but tonight had started at seven. He was trying to hold out for fifteen, but would settle for twelve if they looked like they were going to walk away. The oral histories said a third bargaining session would be viewed as being in their favor, and they would drive harder bargains. One session meant they had all they wanted and more, including your favorite shirt. Two or four were the best number of sessions, and Domas had made it clear he would not be returning for a fourth session unless Worthington gave him his favorite shirt with the skin underneath it as a bonus gift.

The last thing they wanted was the most surprising. Their Halls were a good distance away, so it made sense they would want permission for dwarves to reside here while they worked the slag heaps and the mines. What they were asking for though was more than temporary residence while they worked. Domas wanted a small outpost, a permanent outpost.

“Eleven percent of all proceeds from sale of ore and gemstones taken from the land.” Domas said after another half-hour of discussion. “We will pay four hundred dollars a pound for the slag.”

“United States Dollars.” Brandon specified and Domas frowned. Well, that was something Worthington had almost missed.

“Four hundred and twenty-five dollars, United States, per pound, Standard English Weights.” Worthington countered and Domas’s frown deepened. Brandon had given him the idea, and from the look on Brandon’s face, he’d missed that part.

“Four-twenty, United States Dollars, per Standard English Weights.” The dwarf said with a sigh as several of his junior companions whispered with each other. They could be making a show of it all, but he felt it was real. This was as high as they were willing to go.

“Agreed.” Worthington stated. “As for ore and gemstones mined, twelve percent of that sold, and nine percent of the value of that removed from the ground and used for purposes other than sale.”

“Eleven-five, and seven.” The dwarf frowned again, but the dwarf to his right looked downright shocked that Worthington had picked up on that little caveat. “I’ll skin the hide of whoever gave you the hint about using it for our own decorations.”

“It was a guess.” Worthington shrugged, and Domas growled when one of the other dwarves emitted a bark of laughter. “Twelve, and seven.”

“Twelve and seven, it is agreed.” Domas growled and the other dwarves looked satisfied. Not happy, but satisfied. He might have been able to push for more on the second part, the ore and gemstones mined but not sold. Still, sometimes in negotiations it was better to give away just a little bit if it engendered good will. That was a lesson from his father that had nothing to do with magic. He was talking business on that night.

“As for your outpost.” Worthington moved on to the next subject. “I cannot subdivide the land without inspections by the mundane government. Doing so will draw unwanted attention, and so I cannot transfer legal ownership no matter what identities you have established through the use of the Internet and other tools.”

“We will lease the land, in perpetuity.” Domas offered shrewdly. “Permanent agreement for non-revocation will suffice.”

“Without condition?” Worthington countered. “I think not.”

“King Odros will guarantee good faith and peaceful relations between his Hall and Family Sinclair, its vassals, and protectees, for as long as dwarves occupy this land.” Domas offered and Worthington felt his mouth drop in surprise. “This is merely a Treaty of Peace, not of Defense or other involvement in your human affairs. We will of course defend the land we occupy, and all who are yours will always find safe harbor in these demesnes, even against demons.”

“And Family Sinclair shall defend all who reside on lands it owns so long as they bear no ill action or will against Family Sinclair, and do not provide knowing assistance to its enemies.” Worthington said. The wording was important here. Family Sinclair did not include his Uncle. Family Sinclair right now included Worthington, Jamie, Brandon, Rob, and possibly Carl if just by a hair, and by his friendship with Jamie. It also included the mundanes in his gang, and Jeremy of course, as well as Jeremy’s three brothers.

“Payment for the lease in perpetuity shall include the maintenance and preservation of this property, its surrounding area, and of course construction of a proper residence for Family Sinclair on these grounds. Electrical power, as necessary, will be provided to the Sinclair residence and related buildings on this property for use by human supporters of Sinclair without further charge.”

“That is generous.” Worthington said and wondered what he was missing.

“Family Sinclair has many residences.” Jamie chimed in, leaning forward slightly. “We cannot be expected to reside full-time at any of them.”

“Of course not.” Domas growled, but he didn’t look happy. “No matter how often a Sinclair resides here, it will be considered Sinclair residence.”

“Sinclair habitation shall not be required to retain ownership in legal or other considerings.” Brandon added. This must be some point of dwarven law, that if a residence was provided but not used, did it revert to those who made it? Maybe.

“Agreed.” Domas sighed as if it had made a big difference, and he’d lost another round. “You are a Sinclair, boy, and bargain like it is said they did of old. We are agreed on all points.”

“Agreed.” Worthington said. One of the dwarves had been writing each time they said ‘agreed’, and finished his scribbling with a flourish before handing over the parchment. Worthington had Brandon and Jamie look it over carefully before he read it himself. The dwarf hadn’t missed any detail, and had recorded them accurately. With a quick prayer that he’d not missed anything big, Worthington signed his name, and imprinted a seal on the document with his magic. Domas did the same, and then clapped his hand.

“Well boy, you managed to keep your head.” Domas laughed. “We will part your company now. Since you didn’t specify when we could start, you will find a team here in the morning to start removing some of the slag. The buildings on these premises offend us, so you had best start taking down your wards. Although you didn’t specify a house to human standards, you will get one, and you can put your wards back up when we’re done. We will furnish it though, and you will of course reimburse us at cost plus a modest finder’s fee. It will be done in three weeks, and if you need this property between now and then you will be doing it out of doors. Grab what you want to keep from here before you leave too. I can’t promise it will be in the new premises when they’re done.”

“I…” Worthington started to argue. Well, they hadn’t quite gotten his shirt. The sleeves maybe, but not the shirt. That was something at least.

“I’ll take care of things here.” Brandon assured him. Worthington just nodded, and wondered what else they’d missed in their bargaining. Had he gotten a good deal, or was he going to be robbed blind by the dwarves? Well, there was only one way to tell, and that would be with time.

The ride back down the mountain and into Scottsdale was actually soothing. His new bike was good, if not as good as his old, custom-made bike. Well, it should be good. It was the most expensive bike on the showroom floor when he’d walked in to the dealership. Maybe Rob would like to have it when the custom-made bike arrived. Yes, Rob would be overjoyed to have a bike of this quality.

“I’m home.” Worthington called out as soon as he came in the door. Jamie was taking Carl home, and had talked about having to do some work on Carl’s parents. Whatever that was, he didn’t know for sure, and he tried to refrain from getting involved in whatever it was between Jamie and Carl. Both of them were happy with how things worked between them, and that was all that was important.

“Hello, Worthington.” Elizabeth said as she sat up on the couch in the living room. Stacy was sprawled out on the couch, her head in Elizabeth’s lap, and there was some movie on the television screen. She paused the movie when she heard him come in. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

“Is there anything wrong?” Worthington asked as he sat in an armchair across from them.

“No, nothing is wrong.” Elizabeth said as Stacy rolled over so she could focus her eyes on Worthington while not leaving her position in Elizabeth’s lap. The two women looked so happy like that, together, and just enjoying each other’s company. “Everything’s been quiet tonight. We haven’t talked to you in a while, unless it was about demons or something related to that and I was hoping we could just catch up. How is school going?”

“School is a pain in the rear.” Worthington sighed. “They give us all this homework and it seems like I don’t have time to do a proper job on it, but it’s getting done. My grades aren’t slipping, and I do not have to use magic on teachers to keep it that way. I’ve only missed a few classes.”

“That’s good, but how is school?” Stacy asked with a slightly different emphasis. “Are you making any new friends? Do you enjoy the time at school?”

“No new friends, no.” Worthington replied. “It is good seeing people and not having to talk about demons or patrol patterns and stuff like that. The gang, the motorcycle guys, well, they’re all a lot closer than before, so we all hang out together a lot more. They treat Jeremy fine, which is good or I’d have their heads.”

“How are things going with him?” Stacy asked. “I haven’t seen him spending the night over here as much lately.”

“He worries about his parents, and he’s spending a lot of time with his brothers.” Worthington replied with a little smile. “To be honest, some of the time I’ve been away from here, I’ve been there with them. I try to spend a little time each day, outside of school, with Jeremy, and a lot of the time that includes spending time with his brothers.”

“That’s a good thing.” Elizabeth said with a smile. “You should be able to have fun, still. This whole situation is a mess, but when it is over, it’s important to remember there’s more to life than chasing demons and saving people. We all have lives to live, and we should not lose sight of that.”

“Thanks.” Worthington said, but he already had that understood.

He continued to chat with the ladies, both of whom he now viewed as being his Aunts instead of just Elizabeth. When he said good night, and headed down to his bedroom, it was just after one in the morning, and he could feel Brandon arriving, along with Jamie right behind him. He had just stripped off his riding gear when Jamie came in to his bedroom and began to get undressed as well.

“I love you, bro.” Jamie whispered when they crawled into bed together. They were both too tired to do more than fondle each other, and give a kiss or two before they drifted off to sleep. Last week, Jeremy had snuck a digital camera into the bedroom and taken a bunch of pictures of the two of them while they slept. Since they always slept in the buff now, they were very detailed pictures, and had proven just how much their bodies had been changed by their frequent use of the bonding spell.

Jamie’s hair was a shade darker than it had been when Worthington first arrived here, and Worthington’s was several shades lighter. Worthington’s nose had taken on more of a tilt upwards at its end, to match Jamie’s, and his lips had grown out to be fuller, again more like Jamie’s. Both of them were taller too, and had gone up a single shoe size. Even their cocks had changed slightly, with Worthington’s having grown thicker now to match Jamie’s girth and they were exactly the same size in length, nearly four inches when soft, and just under nine hard. Even the trace patterns of their veins were similar, although not quite exact.

There were differences still, mostly in the shape of their eyes, or that Worthington’s ears were a little bit smaller than Jamie’s. The toes on Jamie’s feet were a little bit wider, and he had a mole in the small of his back, just above his butt crack that Worthington did not have. People who had known them before could still tell the difference between them, but now it was almost like they had been born twins instead of half-brothers and cousins.

Other differences were obvious as well to those who knew them. Worthington had increased his muscle mass from workouts with wrestling, and developed the beginnings of a six-pack of abs. Jamie’s flesh still had a bit of baby fat, more a thicker layer of skin than real fat, but wrestling kept Worthington leaner. Their shoe sizes and clothing sizes were pretty much the same, but you could tell the difference when they were totally nude and you were up close to them.

Another difference was that almost no one saw Worthington nude anymore, except Jeremy and Jamie. He’d had no sex with anyone but those two in months, not even with Rob who had outgrown the need for sexual contact to feel ‘close’ to Worthington. He was Worthington’s pupil, and employee, and friend. For Rob that was more than enough these days. Jamie on the other hand was a randy slut, although he had calmed down since the first days after sacrificing his virginity.

He had two girls that he was seeing semi-regularly, neither of them mages or related to any of the mage families. One was a cheerleader and very popular at school, the other was a freshman at one of the community colleges in the area, although not the one Stacy taught at. He was still seeing the pitcher on the school’s baseball team, and the basketball star as well, and would occasionally pick up a one-time fling whenever the opportunity arose, but it was no longer quite a parade running in and out of his bedroom.

Worthington was deep into a dream about dog-like creatures and lions and tigers, a dream he couldn’t quite figure out, when the alarm sounded in his head. Even as he sat up with a gasp, Jamie was doing the same thing, and both of them climbed out of bed with wide eyes and without the need to speak. Worthington grabbed the dark blue silk boxer-briefs he’d been wearing the night before and pulled them on quickly while sending out a mental call. Brandon was sleeping as well, but began waking as soon as Worthington’s mind touched his. He’d take care of Rob. The alarms thrummed in his mind again, and he had to resist the urge to go faster in getting dressed. It would do no good to rush out with just underwear and a t-shirt on when he would need every bit of his wits, power, and good, strong, protective clothes.

“Don’t crash your bike this time.” Jamie murmured as they both zipped up their jackets and nodded at each other.

“You going to get Carl?” Worthington asked.

“No time.” Jamie frowned. “I almost wished he was here instead of at his house.”

“Let him enjoy his family life.” Worthington said as they left the room. Good Brandon and Rob were already dressed in their own riding gear, green and black for Brandon, blue and black for Rob, and were waiting. “He’s only thirteen.”

“We’ll be right behind.” Richie said as he opened up his door, a bag of medical gear already in his hand. So Jamie had woken his brother. That was good. Richie may only be an ‘apprentice’, but he was damn good already.

“Right oh, bro.” Jamie smiled as he began to get that cocky walk he sometimes used when he was nervous. Outwardly he looked confident, sexy, and every bit the capable mage. Worthington realized as they entered the garage that he was walking the exact same way despite the butterflies in his stomach.

“Everyone on their own bike this time.” Worthington said as the mental alarms continued to beat in his head. “We go in fast, but stay together. Rob, you cover Jamie’s back since Carl won’t be with us.”

“Got it, boss.” Rob agreed as he pulled on his own helmet and started his bike. The garage door was opening and they mounted up before roaring out of the house and down the street. Worthington really didn’t care if the neighbors complained about the noise from motorcycles waking them at three in the morning.

All of the gang was asleep for the night, long since having sought their beds. No demon attack had occurred yet after one in the morning, so Worthington should have expected they would change their tactics. The only good news was that they were attacking the Grassley family. They were one of the Light families that accepted his magic tokens, the necklaces that were now sounding the alarm in his head.

The Grassleys lived on the border between Scottsdale and Phoenix, in a neighborhood that had been upper-class fifty years ago, but was now mostly middle-class. Once they were down the hill from the house, Worthington and his companions accelerated as they headed out on Indian School Road. The streets were dead at this hour, and they shot through red lights without too much concern. They were mages and could know if cross-traffic was coming. One cop saw them, started to pursue, but recognized two of the bikes and pretended like he’d seen nothing, just as he’d been told to do.

I can feel them fighting. Jamie sent his thought and Worthington sent back a wordless affirmation. He could feel the magic too, as they closed in on the home. It was light magic, fighting against demon magic, and both sides were throwing around spells. The night sky was lighting up again, and he hoped Elizabeth and Stacy were ready with the network of Light Mages who were the cleanup crew now.

That was better organized too.

Light mages had no problems coming in afterwards, and wiping or adjusting memories as needed. They couldn’t fix people who saw lights flashing in the night sky from all over Phoenix, but they could fix anyone who saw something directly. Everything else would fall into place at that point.

Worthington sensed the danger just in time, and threw his bike down to the ground with unthinking reflex. Fortunately the others did too, and while everyone and their bikes skidded along the pavement, none of them were decapitated by the thin razor wire strung up across the road. That was when the mage lightnings began to fall amidst them.

So they thought they could trap him, did they?

Power flooded into him from Brandon, and he noticed that Jamie and Rob were linked, with Jamie in control as he wove shields around them both. While Jamie held the link, Rob could do spells on his own, but Jamie controlled how much power he took from the less-skilled mage. While the lightning struck their hastily raised shields, all of them took their helmets off, and threw them to the ground. Lightning from the sky was a very poor indicator of the direction they might find their attackers. The hair on Worthington’s body stood on end as another round of lightning struck out of a cloudless sky, but his shield held easily. These mages, and there were more than one, were strong, but nowhere near Adept class.

Then the demon roared and Worthington felt fear shred every bit of confidence, and his bladder threatened to empty itself. He almost let it, his mind was so frozen with fear at the sight of the Demon Lord. It stood nearly ten feet tall, and had skin that was deep orange in color, with pale flames licking around bulging muscles like highlights. Unlike the normally bald demons, this one had a mane of jet-black hair, and a circlet of human finger bones on his head.

“I think he’s yours, I’ll handle the mages.” Jamie murmured as he found one of the mages that was attacking. “Maybe we should have stopped for Carl.”

“Fuck.” Worthington spat as the Demon Lord closed to within fifty feet of him and stopped, neither attacking nor doing anything, except staring.

“I am told you are a Sinclair.” The demon’s voice boomed over him. “I will enjoy tasting your flesh, and consuming your power.”

“Return to the hell which spawned you, while you still can.” Worthington retorted as there was a flare deep in his mind. The lesser demon, or demons, was still attacking the Grassleys, and one of them had managed to touch one of the daughters. Well, the one who’d touched her had just gotten a nasty surprise, and she was still alive as well as unhurt.

The Demon Lord laughed as he opened the duel with a Vortex. It looked like a tornado spinning out of a clear sky, and Worthington nearly panicked before remembering how to counter them. A Vortex of his own creation spun out to consume the one the Demon Lord had created, but Worthington staggered under the drain of power. That had taken a lot more out of him, and Brandon, than he’d planned. He’d only cast one spell, and already he was tapping into the power reserves provided to him through the motorcycle gang.

The next attack was a searing blast of flame, so hot that it melted the asphalt between them. Three explosions sent a concussive blast that knocked them off their feet, and Worthington felt pieces of metal fly past him as the gas tanks on the bikes exploded from the fire. The fire roared over him, but he protected all four of them with a wall of freezing cold, that kept them from frying, even though their leathers were singed and smoking in places. Jamie laughed as he got back to his feet at the same time as Worthington. One of the exploding bikes had managed to kill one of the mages attacking them. They could see what looked like the main strut of a bike poking out of the man’s chest. Jamie turned and attacked the surviving mage, who was now visible from his hiding place between two houses.

This time the Demon Lord fell back on the good old staple of bolts of power, flinging them one after another at Worthington, seeking to overwhelm his shield, and drain him of power in defense. On his own, Worthington would have been easily outclassed by the Demon Lord, and while the frost bolts he began to throw out had proved effective against lesser demons, the Demon Lord seemed unaffected by them. Still, Worthington had Brandon, and so he had enough power to attack and defend at the same time. He could feel the demons reaching for the members of the family again, and being repulsed several times. The protections would fade though, and if one of the demons thought to use his magic instead of just grabbing for them, the Grassleys would be demon food.

“You irk me, Sinclair.” The Demon Lord roared as he sent another blast of hellfire. This time it was less powerful, and Worthington met it with a blast of ice that melted, but cooled the fire before it could reach him. “Your ancestor thought to use us. Is that what you do here?”

“Go back to your home, demon.” Worthington retorted with a shout. “Leave these people alone. They are under my protection.”

“Why do you protect these fools?” The demon lord retorted, and this time did not send an attack against Worthington.

“They asked for my protections, and they will receive it.” Worthington retorted, and this time he sent a massive bolt of freezing power at the demon. It howled as the bolt hit it, and when it stopped, the fires on it skin had gone out.

“A deal, a bargain!” The demon roared as lightning leaped out of the sky, and broke through the shields of the mage Jamie had been fighting. The man howled with pain as his skin blackened, but the cry cut off with his death, and Jamie turned to face the demon lord as well. Worthington’s face held a grim smile as he saw a look of near-panic on the Demon Lord’s face. “Wait, I wish to parlay!”

“Order the demons attacking my people to stop.” Worthington shouted as he felt the necklace on the youngest daughter flare again, and then die. From far off, he could hear a demon howl in triumph.

“They stop.” The demon lord growled. Worthington couldn’t tell if it was true or not, but with the failure of the one necklace, he expected to feel another failing, or being tested. There was nothing though.

“What do you want?” Worthington demanded angrily. “Why are you attacking people? Is it because you are compelled to by your summoner?”

“We are demons, there is no more explanation needed.” The demon lord laughed. “Listen to me Sinclair, you are interfering in things of which you have no concept. Go on your way, let us do as we will, and you and yours will be left alone. These charms you make, any who wear them will be left alone, you have my oath on this, as long as you do not interfere. If you continue to struggle against us, though, we will crush you. It has been a long time since I feasted on a Sinclair, and I will enjoy the taste of your flesh.”

“I…I wish to consider this.” Worthington said and the demon lord gave him a shrewd look before nodding slowly.

“Three nights, Sinclair.” The demon lord said. “You have three nights, and then I will expect your decision.”

“How will I contact you?” Worthington asked.

“Do not worry about that, Sinclair.” The demon lord laughed. “I have learned much about you. In three nights I will contact you and hear your decision. Be sure it is the right one.”

The demon lord turned, and reality rippled around him as he disappeared. That shocked Worthington, but he began to run forward, for the home the Grassleys had lived in until now. It was only a half-mile down the road, and he reached it quickly, with the others behind him all the way. The front of the house had been demolished in several places, but Walter Grassley was walking outside with his wife and two daughters. They were all brown-haired, and neither overly good looking or plain. All of them bore scratch marks, and were bleeding, but they were all there and alive, for now at least.

“What now?” Jamie asked with an explosive outpouring of breath. The street behind them was a mess, and now that things had calmed down, excited people were bubbling out of their houses, pointing at the fires still burning from the earlier explosion, the melted section of street, and there were screams when someone found the two bodies.

“Crowd control until the others and the cops get here.” Worthington said with a shake of his head. “Then, well, we make sure everyone’s okay, and we’ll all have to get new bikes now. Maybe I should just buy the damn dealership.”

“No, I mean about the demon’s offer?” Jamie asked.

“Well, I bought us three days at least where there won’t be attacks.” Worthington said with a smile. “Plus, he gave me more information than he knew.”

“Really?” Jamie said with surprise. “What information?”

“You’ll see.” Worthington said with a smile as Walter Grassley came up to him, full of effusive praise for being saved. He just smiled and nodded as police sirens got closer, and familiar cars began to show up, with Stacy, Elizabeth, and Richie in the lead.