“Wait—Wait, I have an idea,” the man said.
“What’s your idea?” Snoe asked.
The man swallowed a few times. “I can take in a fake, but you have to lie low. Real low.”
Snoe said nothing, thinking it over.
“Once it’s confirmed, there is a month’s duration to make sure the kill is authentic, and then they take it down. The only way to get the hit reissued is for someone to request it again,” the man said.
“Can you find out who ordered the hit?” Snoe asked.
“Yes,” the man rushed out to say. “But it will take time. Payment won’t be issued for two weeks. That’s when I can find the name.”
“Are you lying to save your balls, or are you going to do this?” Snoe asked.
The man looked Snoe in the eyes. “Both. But I’m not willing to try and take you on again. You’re always surrounded by them, and no matter how good I am at magic, they are more powerful.”
“He sure knows how to butter us up,” Smooth said.
“Okay, I’ll believe you. But just in case we aren’t clear, and you betray me, your balls will be the last thing you will have to worry about,” Snoe said.
The man nodded. “I believe you. You’re a witch, yet you have a contract with seven demons. One is taboo enough.”
Snoe hadn’t thought of that aspect. There was no contract to speak of, but it added to the illusion that Snoe was powerful alone. He smirked down at the man, not disproving his words.
Snoe hung up the phone with Parkins. The whole “hide away for a month” thing was great and all, except Snoe was still just as busy as before. Morri was securely put up with the remainder of the vampires she’d brought. Her only task was to keep a low profile.
Snoe groaned as he fell back onto the bed.
“You need to eat something,” Dox said.
“Who cooked?” Snoe asked.
They were in a safe house in the mountains an hour out of the city. It was the best they could do on brief notice. No one knew about it, and the closest house was thirty minutes deeper into the mountains.
“Blade,” Dox said.
Snoe was up and left the bedroom in a flash. He ran down the stairs and made it to the kitchen just in time to take a seat. Blade made him a plate of lasagna.
“You know, it’s not fair, all you have to do is try. I try making toast and the toaster breaks,” Snoe complained even as he shoved a bite into his mouth. He groaned from the cheesy goodness.
Blade kissed the top of his head before walking back to the stove.
“If you’re hungry, make your own plate,” he said.
The others didn’t have to be told twice. Wolly was quick to grab the seat next to Snoe. He grinned with a mouthful of hot lasagna in his mouth. Snoe shook his head at Wolly’s antics.
“Hey, Master, can I ask you something?” Wolly asked.
Snoe shrugged, not willing to stop eating the delicious food.
“That marking on your hand, it’s from a demon, right?”
Snoe held the hand up that Wolly was talking about. He had it before his contract with Ezyrah, but whenever he needed to pay his debt, it burned.
“I… I don’t know. I’ve had it since I was a kid,” Snoe said.
He’d thought about it plenty of times, but as time had passed, he’d forgotten about it. The others looked at each other.
“What? Do you know what it is?” Snoe asked.
It was Dox who spoke. “It’s a marking. Usually demon lords will place them on those who they plan to devour.”
Snoe stared at the dot, no bigger than a quarter in the middle of his palm.
“Even if that’s true, I didn’t meet Ezyrah until that day. I’ve had this since, I don’t know, I think eleven or maybe ten,” Snoe said.
“That is all we know. We aren’t demon lords,” Nyght said.
“But if anyone besides the one you’re contracted with comes for you, we won’t let them take you,” Smooth said.
“Okay,” Snoe said.
He left it at that, staring at his hand for another second before he continued eating. That night, all snuggled up with his men, Snoe’s mind wandered, and he tried thinking of why he was marked.
Snoe ran around the flower garden, trying to get his laughter under control so that his mother didn’t find him. He hid among the white roses for some reason. The thorns never hurt or pricked him.
“Snoe,” his mother called out. The light breeze carried her soft, airy voice. It was as if nature itself bent to his mother’s will, always willing to help her.
“I know you’re out here, you silly boy.”
Snoe covered his mouth as his mother’s voice got closer to the white roses. He stayed as quiet as possible, even covering his nose to muffle the sound of his breathing.
“Snoe, if you come out, we can go downtown and try the new ice cream parlor. I hear they have new flavors, even one named coco berry. It sounds delicious, but we can’t go if you don’t come out,” his mother tried to coax.
Snoe wasn’t falling for it. Sure they would go for ice cream, but once that was done, Snoe would be forced back into the room with his private tutors, who’d shove magic books at him and force him to do magic. And it wouldn’t end there—he’d have five more tutors come in and teach him more boring things. Snoe would much rather go to school like any other witch, but because he was a part of the Blake family, one of the five standing witch families, school was out of the question.
His mother moved away from the roses. Snoe waited until her voice was a little further away, calling out to him, before he lifted his hand and breathed out a puff of air.
That was close. Just as Snoe was about to stand up, footsteps that were far too heavy to be his mother’s approached.
“You’ve come at a bad time. I wish you wouldn’t do as you please.” That deep voice that brooked no argument was Snoe’s father. Snoe tried curling in on himself even more. If his father found him, the punishment would be far worse.
“Get this through you head, I am not someone who will bend to your will. Do not make the mistake of thinking you are above me. You’re a mere mortal, something easily squashed,” a smooth, calm voice said.
Goosebumps broke out over Snoe’s arms and back. Even as a child he knew the man that spoke wasn’t one to mess with. He was dangerous, if not deadly. Snoe’s heartbeat picked up as fear made him freeze in place, praying that they moved along.
“You’re right, I apologize,” Snoe’s father said.
Snoe covered his mouth and nose once again. His nails dug into his skin as he tried to keep them from trembling. If his father was apologizing, whoever was there was scarier than his father.
“You would do best to remember that. As for my visit, it is only normal that I check up on our deal.”
“Don’t worry,” Snoe’s father said.
There was a chuckle void of humor. “I have heard that claim from many who’ve come before you. I do hope you can keep it. Especially for your sake.”
A set of footsteps walked away, and Snoe counted to a hundred two times before he stood up in the bed of roses. Snoe froze in place as he came face-to-face with a man in a tailored suit, sleek black hair, pale skin, dark red eyes, and horns curled back on his head.