Vision Quest (The Demon's Apprentice Book 3) (11 page)

“I’ll play white tonight,” Dr. C said when he came into the room a few minutes later. He played his first move, a pawn out two spaces. I moved a pawn to counter it, but only one space. Playing against Dr. Corwyn was hard, but I had the advantage of knowing how he thought. Of course, he also knew how I thought, so over the past few months it had been like learning the game all over for both of us, though at first, my grasp of chess was pretty much how the pieces moved. By now, though, we were both playing four or five moves ahead.

“The first question of the night is who?” he said after he moved his bishop into play. “Who would want to frame your mother? Who benefits from this move?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself. It’s a short list. I can only think of three people who might be able to pull it off. My father, Dulka, and Thraxus or one of his flunkeys. No one mourned King’s loss, and none of the lesser vampires dare make a move openly against me for Etienne’s death, since Thraxus sanctioned it.”

“One of the advantages of having an opponent who is willing to break the rules to get what he wants,” Dr. C said as he took one of my pawns. “But this doesn’t sound like his style. Not scary enough; not a big enough reminder of his power. So, that leaves your father and Dulka.”

“And this does sound like them,” I said, moving a knight to take one of his rooks.

“If your father is involved, he’s going to make a play for custody of you and your sister,” he said as he moved his queen’s knight into a vulnerable position. I considered taking it, but it was still covered by his pawns, and it would take a couple of moves to get my bishop in position for the kill. I moved the bishop anyway, letting him see me appear to fall for the trap.

“If he does, we’ll deal with it,” I said. “We still need to get money to bail Mom out Monday.” He moved another pawn, opening his king’s bishop to move.

“That’s why he’s going to make his move soon,” he said a few moves later. “He knows you’ll be distracted by this. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to have framed your mother for just that purpose.” I moved the pawn in front of my queen’s rook, and he wasted no time in moving his other knight out into play. “This isn’t a matter of if, Chance. It’s a matter of when and how. You have to think ahead of him if you’re going to beat him.” I saw an opening in his play, one that had to look like a mistake. I moved my queen’s pawn out two spaces and waited. He countered with his queen’s pawn.

“Do we have to deal with this right now?” I asked a few moves later, now shy two pawns and a knight.

“Yes,” he said as he made his move. “You either plan for it, or react to it, but either way, you don’t get to choose what he’s going to do. What you
do
get to choose is your response. The farther ahead of him you are, the more likely you are to turn things to your advantage. More importantly, if your father is behind this, you need to start asking yourself
why.
” I moved my queen out, ending up with her one space from a direct shot at his king. He moved a pawn to block the diagonal attack, so I moved my queen across the board.

“Check,” I said. He moved his bishop to block, and I moved my rook into place.

“You should have taken care of your queen,” he said as he took the piece. I moved my bishop out to take his.

“My queen was bait, sir,” I said. “I think that’s mate.”

“Not yet,” he said, “but it will be in two moves. Nice sacrifice play.”

“Thank you, sir. I think I know how to deal with my father.”

“Well, I hope it isn’t by sacrificing your queen,” he said.

“No, sir. I won’t be sacrificing my queen. But it’s going to be pretty risky.”

“When are things ever safe where we’re concerned?” he asked.

“True, but that’s the trick. I know my father. He’ll take risks; he does it all the time. But he’ll take a sure bet over a risky one every time. It’s why he’s not any higher up the food chain than he already is.”

“And why he isn’t in prison yet. Okay, what do you have in mind?”

Chapter 6

~ I just want what’s best for my kid. ~ Every parent ever.

I hated it when Dr. Corwyn was right. My father showed up at his place the next morning. I woke up to the sound of a horn honking out front and a fist pounding on the front door, alternating with rapid ringing of the doorbell. When I tried to get up, I found my right arm pinned to the floor. Sometime during the night, Dee had crawled out of bed and snuggled up next to me. Junkyard was curled up next to her, and she had both arms wrapped around him like a giant teddy mutt, with Pyewacket draped over his flank. I yawned as I tried to retrieve my arm from under her limp form. Junkyard raised his head and looked over his shoulder at me. He let out a little groan as if to point out the futility of expecting him to move while Dee had him in her clutches, then laid his head back down.

“Good dog … you get a cutie mark,” Dee murmured as my hand came free. I could hear Dr. C’s feet on the stairs, his own voice muffled by the doorway, but his tone promising dire consequences. I grabbed my TK wand off the dresser and the Ariakon from its holster on the back of the door and padded after him.

“… release the children now, and I’ll see to it that no charges are filed against you,” a familiar voice said.

“You’re pretty slick, Mr. um … Cassavetes,” Dr. C said. “Coming by early, trying to catch me right after I wake up, sounding all official, making threats. But you see, I have this thing in my study called documentation that says I’m the children’s temporary guardian. And documentation trumps bullshit any day. So, here’s my threat. Show me something official, and I’ll see to it you don’t get shot for trespassing. Otherwise, I’ll tell the cops you tried to force your way in.”

“And I’ll back him up a hundred percent,” I said from over his shoulder. “Help, help, I’m being oppressed,” I said in a monotone.

“Chance,” Cassavetes said, his tone placating, Dr. Corwyn suddenly forgotten. “Wouldn’t you rather stay with family during this trying time?”

“I am staying with family,” I said slowly. “My sister’s here.”

“But your father,” he said, gesturing to the long black limo idling in front of the house.

“Sold me to a demon,” I said. “He’s not family.”

The back door of the limo opened and my father emerged, looking almost dignified in khakis and a gray polo shirt. There was more gray in his hair, and it looked like he’d lost a few chins somewhere along the way.

“He’s very influential,” Cassavetes said as the old man walked up to the porch. “He could get these charges against your mother dropped. All you’d have to do is come back home.”

“I’d rather live in a foster home.”

“Mike, go back to the car,” my father said. Cassavetes nodded and left. “Chance, are you turning down my generosity?”

“If you were being generous,” Dr. Corwyn said softly, “you would have already gotten the charges against Mara dropped. This is extortion.”

My father’s face darkened, and his right hand went to his hip. “This is between me and my son,” he said. “It’s none of your business,
maláka.
”

“We already had this conversation,” I growled. “You don’t get to call me that, remember?”

“The law says different,
son.
You’d better wise up and come home before things get worse for you.”

“Threats,” Dr. C said with menacing softness. “You actually think that is going to work?”

“I told you to stay out of my family’s business, little man,” my father said. “He belongs with me, not with some boy-loving stranger.”

Dr. Corwyn did the scariest thing I’d ever seen him do in the face of the old man’s insult.

He smiled.

“Chance may be your offspring,” Dr. C said as he stepped out onto the porch, “but he’s
my
apprentice. So think about who you’re talking to, and exactly where you’re standing, Stavros Fortunato. Because I do not tolerate threats, and I do not suffer warlocks lightly. I would be within my rights to kill you where you stand. The only things keeping you alive right now … are witnesses.”

Suddenly, the old man realized exactly who he was talking to, and a sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. But there was still ice in his veins. To his credit, he didn’t bolt right away.

“Don’t be so sure of your power, mage,” he said. “And hope I don’t catch
you
without witnesses around.” He turned to me and leveled one thick finger at me. “You better wise up fast, boy. You know there’s a price for crossing me. I hope you’re ready to pay it.” With that, he turned and walked back to the limo.

“He’s too confident,” Dr. C said as we watched the black car move off. “If you ever reconsider putting a kill order out on him, I’m not sure I’d try too hard to talk you out of it.”

I nodded, and wondered if I would regret not taking the Council up on the offer. After completing my Ordeal, the Council had been forced to reconsider my case. Since my father had been the one to put me in the position to be accused, all of the crimes I’d committed were now also on his shoulders, and I was considered to be the wronged party in the whole mess. That also meant that it was up to me to call for justice. The Council had offered to send the Hands of Death after him. Actually, Cross and T-Bone had volunteered to go hunt him down and give him a slow, messy death and the Council had just endorsed it after the fact. But I hadn’t taken them up on the offer.

“Killing him now would still give Dulka what he wants,” I said. “And the old man knows what’s waiting for him when he dies. I want him to spend a long time thinking about that.”

“It’s probably the better decision,” he said as he turned and came back inside. “Let’s just hope we all survive our own merciful natures.”

By midday Monday, I had grown to dread the sound of the judge’s gavel. I guess if it comes right after the words “Bail set at thirty thousand dollars,” the sound can sour on you pretty quick. Now I sat in another judge’s chambers, waiting with Dr. Corwyn and a man with a permanent suntan and the hands of a construction worker rather than a lawyer. Evidently, the last time he’d bought any dress clothes had been the eighties; either that, or I’d missed the trend back toward pastels, baggy slacks, and wide collars. I tried not to squirm or fidget, but unless Kyle Vortigern showed up, I was pretty sure I’d end up at my father’s place by the end of the day. I hoped Judge Wells (according to the name plate on her desk) took her time showing up.

If I hadn’t been wondering where in the Nine Hells Vortigern was for the past fifteen minutes, I would have sworn just thinking about him had summoned him when the door opened and he stepped into the judge’s office.

“You’ll pardon the delay,” he said with his usual cool tone. “But Judge Walters wanted to speak to me. Since these two cases are related, he’s ordered me to recuse myself from one of them.”

“Which one of them are you bowin’ out of?” the older man asked. His voice was rough and throaty, with an accent that screamed Texas to my now practiced ear.

“Chance here has convinced me of the wisdom of representing his mother while you handle the custody case, Mister …?”

“Fred Reed,” the older man said with a smile.

“Now, there were some details I thought you might find interesting,” Vortigern said as they hunched together.

“Where in the Nine Hells did you dig him up?” I asked Dr. C in a whisper.

“Port Aransas,” Dr. C said. “He was a friend of my father’s and he’s probably forgotten more about law than most lawyers ever know.”

“I just hope he remembers the right parts.”

“He will,” Dr. C said with conviction. “Between him in the courtroom and Vortigern’s advice, things will go our way.”

The door opened as he finished, and my father and Cassavetes were led in, with Judge Wells on their heels. Her Honor was a sharp-featured woman with red hair streaked with gray. She looked to Vortigern and frowned as Dr. C and Reed stood, with me a beat behind in following their example.

“Please tell me I’m hallucinating, Kyle,” she said with a clear voice, “and that you’re not really here.”

“You’re hallucinating, your Honor,” Vortigern said smoothly. “I never consulted on this case, and I was never here. It must be the stress.” He smiled with all the charm of a pit viper as he finished.

“Your Honor, I must protest this in the strongest terms possible,” Cassavetes said. “Mr. Vortigern—”

“Recused himself from this case, Counselor,” Judge Wells said. “Which doesn’t preclude consultation with his client’s new representation. Now, sit down, all of you.” Everyone planted butt in seat in a hurry. As soon as she sat down behind her desk, Cassavetes opened his mouth. Her hand came up and she silenced him with a glare.

“Before any of you open your mouth again, I want to hear from the person who will be affected the most by this decision,” she said. “Not you,” she added when my father started to say something, then she pointed one slender finger at me. “You.”

“Yes, ma’am?” I said.

“Who do you want to live with?”

“My mom,” I said without hesitating.

“And if that wasn’t possible, would you want to live with your father?”

“No, ma’am. I’d prefer to stay with Dr. Corwyn or someone else.” Cassavetes and my father erupted in pure outrage at that, and the judge silenced them with a look I wished to the High Heavens I could master. Reed took the opportunity to slide a thin folder across her desk, which she picked up and glanced at before she spoke again.

“Your concerns are duly noted, gentlemen,” she said dismissively, then turned to Dr. Corwyn. “And how exactly do you fit into the boy’s life, Mr. … Corwyn?” I cringed as she left off the title. I watched his face as he fought the urge to correct her, but when he spoke, his voice was calm.

“I am … well, I
was
his science teacher last year, and I’ve become his mentor in the school district’s AP science program. I also sponsored him for a scholarship and placement at the Franklin Academy, which he’ll be attending next year.” The judge looked over the file in her hand for a moment, then looked at Dr. C with a gaze that seemed to be looking a lot deeper than the surface.

“And the numerous police and sheriff’s department case numbers Mr. Cassavetes has appended to the case file. Perhaps you’d care to explain those.”

“Of course, your Honor. I’m a consultant with both departments, specializing in occult cases. Symbology, psychology, and history, mostly. I hold a Masters in Western Esotericism.”

Wells leaned back in her chair and gave Dr. C another long look before she spoke again, this time turning her attention back to me.

“Where do you think your sister would rather live, young man?”

“Her choice would be the same as mine,” I told her. “We’ve talked about this a lot over the past couple of days.”

She nodded and turned to face my father. “So, Mr. Fortunato, you’re asking for custody of both children,” the judge said. “Except that only one of them is legally your offspring. You are not listed as the father on the birth certificate for Deirdre Murathy that Mr. Reed handed me. Until such time as you are able to prove your paternity, my judgment is that you technically have no parental rights to exercise over her.”

It was hard to keep a straight face as I watched my father’s face turn bright red while he fought to keep his temper in check. But, just as his forehead was bordering on a dark purple, Cassavetes leaned forward and smiled.

“Then perhaps we should concentrate on amending the custody ruling in the divorce decree,” he said, moments before I figured the old man’s control would slip, the sound of Cassavetes’s voice making my ears feel slightly oily. “We know that the boy’s extensive juvenile record was a deciding factor in granting his mother sole custody last year, but in the last eight months, Chance has been arrested once, and has been a suspect in at least four cases. So we can clearly see that his mother and this man Corwyn haven’t had any positive effect on him.”

“I don’t know where Mr. Casaverde is getting his information from,” Reed broke in, his gruff voice filling the room, “but he needs to do a better job. But, given his client’s
business associations,
I can see why he might have missed this. I’m afraid it’s something only your Honor will be able to review.” He handed the judge a large sealed envelope. She opened it and drew out a thicker folder. Almost immediately, her gaze went to my father and Cassavetes, then back to me. “As you can see there, he’s making a serious effort to … what’s that phrase? Oh, yeah. He’s trying to ‘be the change,’ you might say.” Then I realized what he had handed to her. It had to be the Essex County Sherriff’s department’s file on me as a confidential informant.

“I don’t see how this makes him any safer in Corwyn’s care than in his father’s,” the judge said. “But your point regarding his character is well made, though I’m not sure who to credit with his newfound morals.”

“Maybe it’s who’s
not
around,” I said.

“I can’t fault that line of reasoning either,” Wells said, silencing the new round of protests from Cassavetes. “For now, the children will remain in the custody of Dr. Trevor Corwyn as per the current TO,” she said. Her attention turned to my father. “File your motion to amend the divorce agreement.”