Page 53 of Endlessly Raphael
“Yes, but using compulsion, of course. I don’t want to act like we’re Mafia.”
“No horse heads in the bed, got it.”
“What?”
Thorn rolls his eyes. “Dude. Godfather?”
“Right. No horse heads.”
“Now?” He’s practically vibrating. “I’m bored. I could use a little fun.”
“Yes, now. I’ll go with you.”
The two of us head out and Thorn drives to the location I send him to.
“I had a bad feeling about one of his uncles. He was very quiet during the confrontation we had. Too quiet.”
“Yeah? You think he’s trouble?”
“He could be. His energy was very even, but dark. The father was loud and defensive. The other uncle spoke up, but the third, he just sat there taking in the scene as if he didn’t really care.”
“So are we visiting the right person?”
“This is a good start. I’ll find out more from Haven.”
“Cool.”
In record time, we make it to the swanky suburban neighborhood where Haven’s parents live. It’s late enough that I suspect his mother will be asleep, but we have to be prepared for anything given we don’t know their habits.
“This is one of those times turning into mist would be super helpful.”
“You and your mortal lore fixation.”
Thorn chuckles. “What? It’s funny shit. Remember that village in Romania where they hung garlic around all the entrances? Come on, even Yves thought that was hilarious.”
I fight back a chuckle. “Okay, yeah, it’s funny.”
We scale the large wrought iron gate easily, nearly undetectable to any cameras except as quickly shifting shadows. The house is mostly dark, except for a lone light on the lower level.
“Let’s try that room.”
Thorn nods as we creep through the elaborate landscaped gardens. We peer in the window but it’s just a hallway. I point to the back of the house, so we move that way, finding the man we want in what appears to be a study sitting in an armchair. He’s surrounded by papers and seems to be searching for something. Possibly the loophole he threatened Haven with earlier?
“That’s him,” I whisper. “I’ll stay here. Just remember not to actually hurt him, Thorn.”
“I got it, but you owe me a tour after this.”
“Fair. Go.”
Thorn lifts the window easily, breaking the lock on the ledge. Salman is so caught up in his work, he hasn’t noticed yet. That is, until Thorn slips inside.
Salman glances up briefly, then a second time, gasping and scooting back in his chair. “Who are you?”
“Just a messenger.”
I grin, crouched by the window. Thorn is truly spectacular when he’s in work mode.
“What do you want?” Salman asks. “Money? Jewelry? Just don’t hurt us, please.”