This novel snippet may have tongues a-wagging… as it were.
It would seem that I have a visitor.
Through the part my fingers make in the curtains, I noticed a black luxury car rolling up. I stepped away from the window.
Outside, in the parking lot in the midst of repairs, tires crunched over gravel. A car door slammed.
I went to the phone. Leroy picked up.
“I have a visitor. Where are you?”
“Ah. What see you?”
“A peculiar small procession heading your way.”
“Keep your eye on them. See where they go.”
I put the phone down and stood there, waiting for the wards guarding the door to go off.
One did. And it wasn’t a sure sound, the tinkling of the bell saying neither friend or foe. They have confounded my wards.
Still, if they intended to come crashing in, all pell-mell and intent with harm, I’m sure they would have done it.
So down I went to the door.
A man stood, distinct, between two others who were obviously there to guard and accompany him by their dress.
Magical wards were sewn into his fine crimson suit; from them I can feel a palpable aura of magic.
His hair was a chilly gold, gelled hard enough to stop a bullet. I looked into his eyes. They were the blue of deadly patience, the blue of the light off the sharp edge of a blade. Eyes that said, “I will wait to kill you.”
And he oozed a genteel menace.
He seemed quite sure in his power and physical autonomy as he idly removed a black glove from one hand and put it out to one of his guards. The guard lifted a decorated wooden box into view. From it too, I could sense magic. The guard opened it, taking out a human tongue. He placed the moist, pink object in the man’s waiting hand.
The man placed it in his mouth, the muscles of his pale, firm jaw working under the light of my doorway, his gaze inward. When he was satisfied he took in a deep breath, focusing his attention back to me, seemingly energized as he replaced his glove, bestowing me a smile with ashen, taut lips.
What was this?