Chapter Twenty-One
Marquis
Every moment away from Mads tugged at his soul heavier than it ever had before. He wanted to fall asleep with the warm weight of Mads’s head on his shoulder. The faint scent of lingering sweetness, the tingle of familiar magic, all of it culminated into a pain in his heart that he couldn’t shake.
Izohr sat in observation as boxes of paperwork, cases of cash, gold, and coins were carried out of the storage unit. Baron had to have lost track of it, or someone had hidden it from him. “I wonder if Justin knew this was here.”
Marquis shrugged. “There’s none left to question things. How is Leon, by the way?”
Izohr grumbled. “Miserable. We’re not ready for another child, and suppressants can only ease symptoms for some familiars.”
Non-mammal familiars had a near-impossible time with preventatives, which made Marquis very grateful for Mads’s future heats. “My condolences. Condoms aren’t an option for you?”
Izohr rubbed the back of his neck and coughed. “Ah… Anatomical issues.”
“Say no more.” Marquis waved a hand as Izohr’s cheeks pinkened. Mage in appearance but canid where it counts.
“Change of subject, though.” Izohr pulled out his phone and held it up to Marquis, an email with a letter of introduction and request to join his coven.
They’d not even decided on a name, whether it would be a subsidiary of the Arborae or Penumbra, as Izohr had no coven ties with his family and RedSky had taken him in as a young male, giving him Penumbra status.
The coven lands were originally Arborae, the Willow coven, and Leon had been Oaken, in the Arborae line.
“An alpha pair of polar bears?” Marquis frowned. “How would they know to contact you?”
“Touch base with Mads, please. It’s by his recommendation.” Izohr stared at the email for a second and the name hit Marquis, tickling a nearly forgotten memory. “Mads’s father.”
“No shi—way?” Izohr had never grown accustomed to formality, and Marquis, while he had relaxed in the past two years, had not given up all pretense of formality between coven heads. Izohr needed the practice.
“I’ll talk to him this evening when I’m home.
As for the application, do as you wish. If Mads recommended him, there’s likely some chance of good blood.
” Marquis pondered the male. Until recently, there’d been no attempt at communication either way, nor had Mads ever searched for him. Things were always changing, though.
Sailor scrolled the email and tilted his head from side to side. “He’s a licensed plumber, and his mate owns a construction company, does roofing and masonry.”
“Speaks for itself, does it not? Mages rarely go into the trades.” Marquis handwaved the notion and moved to inspect a box of paperwork. Mostly tax records, some deeds, and the final piece Marquis needed to see before he headed out—the Eclipse trust.
Marquis snatched the letterhead of an investment firm up and called the number, praying that the New England company was still open.
It’d be just after two in the afternoon their time.
It rang three times before a cheerful female answered, and Marquis asked for the account representative for the Eclipse accounts.
Silence.
“May I ask who is inquiring?” Her hesitant voice trembled.
“Marquis Penumbra. Baron Eclipse’s brother. Last surviving heir of the family.” Marquis tapped his fingers on his phone case as he strode off, a wicked grin spread across his lips.
“Transferring you right away.” The line clicked. More ringing, and the line that picked up was a cellphone, if the hiss of traffic in the background were any indication.
An older male answered, surprised to hear from Marquis and polite if not clipped.
“And what is it you wish for us to do?” The manager, a human from the name, Gerald or something of the sort, cleared his throat. “Mage Eclipse was a strain on our resources.”
“I merely wanted to know what was left in the family trust. Where it is, and who I needed to speak to about remanaging it.” Marquis rocked on his heels as the male informed him that it was left to Justin, who Marquis had confirmed was passed on.
“Then it appears it may be yours if you can get me the appropriate death certificates and the firm handling the estate.” Marquis pulled his phone from his ear, put it on speakerphone, and sent a few emails, forwarding them to the Penumbra coven’s lawyer.
A conflict of interest? Certainly. But who cared? Mages had their own laws.
“All sent. Now, what trouble had my brother wrought upon you?” Marquis settled on a nearby bench outside of the community center. The scent of long-abandoned fire still hung around the place. It’d be destroyed on the morrow, where the shadows of burned corpses still lay.
“The entire family harassed us for years for access to their funds, but only a certain amount was permissible to be given per year to them. So many threats and calls.” The man sighed heavily.
“The trust cannot be dissolved and no more than 4 percent can be withdrawn per annum. But the problem is, it’s grown exponentially, and that 4 percent is sizeable. ”
Marquis didn’t balk at the numbers, but they were sizeable. Likely, their father had guarded it against Baron before he passed. “The legal documents for the original trust should say that if it were to fall into my hands, that situations would change.”
The man on the other end, who likely had someone driving him, rifled through his phone, periodic padded taps breaking through the silence and din of traffic. “I think… Strange. How old are you, sir?”
“You called Baron Mage Eclipse.” Marquis cleared his throat. “But I have paperwork that lists me as a fourth of my name, if that helps.”
“I-I see.” The older male was informed enough. “I have heard certain things. People talk. You are whom one approaches about the Magi, I assume?”
Marquis swore internally. “I can put you in contact with Nelson, who leads that front. As a mage, I am not uniquely qualified to represent Magi. Magus Nelson handles all of that and will be happy to communicate with you regarding your needs and desire to collude.”
A hopeful noise piped free of the speaker. “Understood. And… Wish. The business with all of this. There… There is a matter of money owed to my associates.”
“We’ve made adjustments to the formula and have fairy dust instead. Much healthier and better to wean people from wish,” Marquis explained and offered a free supply to aid their transition, and agreed to settle the debt owed. In cash. Legally.
The man on the other end let loose a sigh so long and ragged that Marquis could hear a dozen blood pressure medications being flushed down the toilet, unnecessary. And with promises made, Marquis sent another email with Nelson’s contact information and bid the male farewell.
A notification popped up from Helena, the coven’s resident matron. She’d companioned Mads while he’d been gone. Marquis opened the text and read.
Mads is picking at his food and restless. I’m no midwife, but I would return home sooner rather than later. Also, he’s scratching at his line a lot.
Marquis took a calming breath and flagged down Izohr.
“Councilman?” Izohr greeted him with a wicked smile—likely someone had already spoke to him through the grapevine or he’d guessed.
“I’m heading out. We have the paperwork we need, and Mads is nesting.” Marquis tucked his phone away and stared up at the too-blue sky. “Do me a favor and tell Rexford and Midnite to be on their way.”
Izohr saluted Marquis and grinned. “Here’s to second chances at happily ever afters.”