A Wolf at the Door

“You totally have to teach me that,” I muttered, and the big man snorted.

“You are either to be having it, or you are not.”

Confronted with the closed double doors to Reggie’s office, I deferred to my elder. “After you.”

Ivan smirked and with one well-placed boot, kicked the doors open with a crash of shattering wood. Maybe I’d have to rethink calling him “old man.”

Reggie’s hand was reaching for the panic button (at least, I assume that’s where it was going) under his desk, but a shove from Ivan planted him back in his high-backed leather chair, rolling it all the way to the windows behind him.

“Hiya, Reggie!” I hopped up on his desk, crossing my legs and giving him a slightly manic grin. “Reggie, this is Ivan. Ivan, Reggie.” My enormous Ukrainian mentor rested a hand on the agent’s shoulder, pinning him into his seat. I was pretty sure it would take more strength than Reggie had to budge it.

“What do you want, Dawson? As you can imagine, I’m a bit busy today.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m sure that Gretchen’s death has opened up all kinds of lucrative income opportunities for you.” I idly picked up items from his desk—his name plate, a glass paperweight, a stapler—and entertained myself by dropping them on the floor. The paperweight exploded quite nicely, scattering shards all over his hardwood flooring.

Reggie shrugged—or tried to, with Ivan leaning on his shoulders. “What can I say? She’s worth more dead than alive when it comes right down to it.”

“You’re a great humanitarian, you know that?”

“Again, is there something you wanted?”

I flipped his charred and wrinkled business card into his lap. “Found something of yours.”

He picked it up, examining it, then tossed it to the floor with a negligent flip of his wrist. “I give out thousands of those, you realize.”

“Yes, but this one is special. This one was buried in the neck of a rather well-constructed golem, who has since, sadly, just gone to pieces on us.”

“And just what does that have to do with me?” His smirk lasted until Ivan squeezed the nerve cluster at the base of his neck, then his face crumpled in agony. I let it go on for a moment, then nodded, and Ivan released him.

“Reggie, I want you to understand something. Last night, I had what we’ll call a moment of perfect clarity. Got to see the world and all things in it as they really are, that kinda thing. And you, sir, are a lying sack of shit.”

I hopped off the desk and continued my random breaking of things, just because I could, and because all Reggie could do was watch me and fume. “See, I know you created that golem. Got quite a bit more magical talent than you let on, don’t you?” His lacrosse trophy cracked into four pieces when it hit the floor. “And I know you sent those flowers.” I picked up one of the old, musty tomes off his shelf, one I hadn’t looked at before, and flipped it open. Just as I thought. Spell work. Herbs. Everything a growing magician needs to entertain his friends and screw with the local champion. “Doing a bit of herbalism on the side, are we?” His heavy, crystal AGENT OF THE YEAR AWARD actually bounced when I swept it off the shelf, gouging a chunk out of the hardwood.

His gaze followed me around the room as I created destruction and havoc, but he said nothing. He didn’t have to.

“Axel came to see you, to tell you I was coming. But someone else got to you first, didn’t they, Reggie? Made you an offer you couldn’t refuse, no doubt. Gave you the giant shape-shifting Ken doll, to carry two hundred and seventy-six souls. Where were they going next? Who were they for?” Reggie glared daggers at me from his chair, jaw working as he bit off every curse word he knew before it could escape. I didn’t expect him to answer. At least, not right away. I stopped in front of him again, Ivan turning the chair so I could crouch down at Reggie’s eye level. “Who loves ya, baby?”

He turned away, directing his gaze out the window, until Ivan squeezed his shoulder again. “I would advise you to answer, Reggie. I’m a pretty decent guy, but him up there? He’s old and cranky.” Ivan gave me a dirty look over Reggie’s head, but I ignored it.

It looked like the agent was going to keep mum, so I threw in one last bluff. At least, I hoped it was a bluff. “Ivan, break his knees.” There was a split second where I was actually sure Ivan was going to do it, before Reggie caved.

“Wait! A name! They gave me a name I was supposed to use.” I swear, Ivan growled when he reached down again, and Reggie squirmed frantically. “No! Seriously! They wanted her to name a master. Gave me a name to use.”

“What was the name?”

“Do you think I’m insane? Saying it would draw them down on me in a heartbeat.” Sweat dripped down his fake tan cheeks, and he wriggled in the chair, trying to shrink away from Ivan’s iron grip on his shoulder.