3. Chapter 2 #2
He followed Declan inside and through the dark, moody interior.
It changed over the years. The home was once bright and warm.
Without his mother’s presence, the house grew frigid and retreated into the night.
Ezra shoved his hands into his pants pockets, hiding how white his clenched knuckles became as they neared the stairs.
It took every ounce of strength to keep his attention away from the door leading downstairs.
When they climbed to the second level, a golden light filtered into the dark hallway from the office.
They approached, and Declan knocked softly on the door.
Over his brother’s shoulder, his father stood at the row of bookshelves lining the walls, a glass of scotch in one hand and an open book in the other.
Despite it being eleven o’clock at night, his father still wore a full suit and had his ash-gray hair slicked-back.
Hair pomade was still a prime commodity in the household, apparently.
His father shut the book and turned toward them, the ice-blue stare causing Ezra to falter.
Haverick Thaler. Known in the northwestern part of the arcane world as a news broadcasting mogul descending from a long line of journalists, radio hosts, and so on.
Behind the scenes across the country, he was a hard-ass businessman collecting power grabs, secrets, and favors like they were candy while snuffing out anyone who got in his way.
“Ah, there you two are.” His deep voice carried a familiar sharp edge, setting Ezra on alert. “Come, sit down.”
Declan crossed into the office and sat in one of the expensive espresso leather chairs. But Ezra stayed beyond the line where the dark hardwood floors in the hall ended and the burgundy red carpet began.
“That includes you as well, Ezra,” his father said coldly. “After all, you are the reason we’re here at this late hour.”
Ezra swallowed roughly before taking the first step into the office and sitting in front of the desk next to Declan.
He kept his gaze fixed on the desk in front of him.
Where a normal father would have pictures of his family, his had pictures of his achievements—like receiving awards and shaking hands with other rich assholes.
Or, him holding an oversized ceremonial key to some business venture.
Though he couldn’t place where it was taken.
A blood-red banner hung behind him, an intricate black frame outlining some imagery he couldn’t make out.
“Don’t slouch,” his father said as he stepped back behind the desk, a sneer across his thin lips.
Ezra clenched his jaw, but corrected his posture to match Declan’s rigid form.
“Better.” His father reached into his pocket, took out a small gold key, and unlocked a drawer in his desk.
“Despite your best efforts to ruin our efforts last winter, the girl’s death made it easier for us in the end.
She was old news within a few weeks, and we made sure anyone claiming otherwise, were labeled a conspiracy theorist. It bought us time. ”
“You’re welcome,” Ezra mumbled.
Haverick scoffed. “That doesn’t mean I approve.
I know you intended to stop us from getting the girl.
You’re too much like your mother, never recognizing sacrifices must be made to protect the family.
” He tossed a large cream-colored envelope onto the desk in front of Ezra.
In the corner was the crest of Arcania Academy.
“If I’m too much like her, why bring me back here?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the envelope and up to his father.
Haverick’s jaw clenched. The dim light in the room cast a shadow on the fine stubble lining his face.
“Your abilities are too useful not to use. However, your brother”—he paused, looking at Declan and back—“convinced me my last approach may have been too demanding for your fragile mind. You wouldn’t deliberately disobey my orders, would you? ”
Ezra’s hands gripped his legs. They were observing him as if he were prey for their game. He loosened his grip, refusing to give them the satisfaction. “No, sir.”
“Good.” Haverick pushed the envelope closer.
“Our efforts are growing. My…associates grow tired of waiting. Rather than you doing your duties from a distance, you will go to this school. More students will go missing. You will ensure there is no speculation. Clear the missing posters the school will hang, and erase any reports of their disappearance. If there are witnesses, take care of them. Am I understood?”
“Understood,” he said, the word like acid in the back of his throat. He wished he could leave, to be free of this. “Except…”
His father’s brow rose. “What?”
Ezra’s jaw squared, and he swallowed roughly. He hadn’t meant to speak out of turn. Well, it was too late now. “I want this to be the last time I do anything for you.”
His brother’s seat groaned as Declan shifted his weight; clearly, he was surprised by the request. But when Ezra looked at his father, there wasn’t an ounce of shock. It was as if Haverick were expecting it.
His father glanced at Declan. “Give us a moment of privacy.”
Panic struck the back of his skull. He wanted to turn to his brother, to beg Declan to stay by his side. But he kept still, keeping the old version of himself locked away.
“Yes, Father.” A moment later, the door shut with a soft click.
His father pressed his spread fingers across the desk, leaning forward on the surface. “Do you think you are in a position to negotiate with me?”
“Yes,” he choked out. “You need me. If you didn’t, you would’ve accomplished your goal while you had me out of the way. And there’s nobody else you trust enough that can do what I can.”
“You expect me to trust you?” Haverick asked skeptically.
“No.” He licked his cracked lips. “I don’t know why you need me to do this, and I know you won’t tell me. We both know the search for someone else with my abilities would be long, and their silence would need to be bought. Whereas, I’m asking for one thing.”
“Your freedom.” The words were like poison dripping from his father’s canine teeth. His lip snarled around the syllables, etching the wrinkles around his scowl even deeper.
“Yes,” he said, his voice trembling lightly. “I’ll erase every trace of the people taken. No matter how many. As long as you give me that.”
Silence stretched between them for so long that he braced himself for his father’s powers to seep into his mind again. But Haverick pushed back from the desk, regarding Ezra down his pointed nose. Almost like he was…impressed? A small swell of pride expanded in his chest.
“Fine,” Haverick said. “Do this perfectly, and you will have your freedom from this family.”
“Yes, sir.” Ezra grabbed the envelope eagerly from the desk. “I’ll see it done.”