Chapter 13
“Mr. Bane, you have a phone call in your office.”
Darius threw five more punches at the bag and then stepped back, wiping the sweat from his brow. He caught the reflection of his secretary in the wall mirror. Darius didn’t really need a secretary. He’d only hired Camille because it was nice to have a woman in a skirt around the house. He didn’t get out much, and the only people who kept him company were a bunch of male guards. But lately Camille had been wearing slacks and a lot less makeup.
“Who is it?” he asked, removing one of his wrist wraps. “And why aren’t they calling my cell?”
Darius had a landline for routine calls, not for business. And routine calls were not important enough to interrupt his workout session.
Camille shifted her hips, and somehow her perfume managed to fight its way through the musky air. “He says he’s your Creator.”
Darius unwound the second wrap. “Tell him I’ll be just a moment.”
After she closed the door, he gulped down a bottle of imported water and then wet his curly black hair with a second bottle. He had a modest gym no bigger than the average living room, equipped with a punching bag and weights. It would have been nice to have something larger with high ceilings, but there wasn’t enough room on the floor.
He tossed the empty bottle into a wastebasket. He didn’t tolerate anyone disturbing his private time, but a man didn’t ignore a call from his Creator, especially when his Creator was a member of the higher authority.
Darius took long strides down the narrow hall toward his office. Most of the rooms in the building were closed off, leaving long hallways like one might see in an office building. It gave him another level of security knowing his guards wouldn’t have anything to distract them from their duties.
When he entered the tiny room, he shut the door and took a seat in the leather chair behind his desk. A short towel hung from his neck, and his thin T-shirt was drenched with sweat and water. He braced himself as he watched the blinking red dot on the phone.
Darius was a low-key individual who spoke in a modulated voice and preferred people who kept the excitement level down. Patrick, on the other hand, was an extrovert who had a politician’s knack for steering the conversation and talking over people.
“This is Darius.”
“Have you been hiding from me?” Patrick asked. He possessed a pleasant Irish accent that was light and lyrical, making everything he said sound wonderful. “I had a little trouble when your number was no longer in service, but I had a good friend of mine look you up. Staying out of trouble?”
Darius leaned back in his leather chair, his gaze shifting to an old photograph on the wall of him standing in front of a building. His face was obscured with a fedora, but he remembered that day like it was yesterday. “I was in the middle of negotiating a contract for a piece of property.”
“Is that so? I’d love to hear the details.”
Darius shifted uncomfortably in his seat. True, he bought and sold properties for profit, but not recently. “I’m stretched for time. What can I help you with?”
“You’re not my financial advisor, Darius, so don’t bother with addressing me so formally. I have every right to see what my progeny is up to, especially after what I’ve heard.”
Darius stood up and flipped the towel away from his neck. “And what have you heard?”
“That a certain employee of yours was recently incarcerated for assault and attempted rape.”
“And what does that have to do with me? I have no control over what my employees do any more than you do.”
“True, true. We can’t put a leash on them. But I happen to know a fella who knows a fella. Humans love surveillance cameras, and it seems that your partner was arrested in a human establishment. What intrigues me is how the video showsyourcar in the parking lot. What were you doing on that side of town?”
“You can’t fault me for having a beer. What is this leading to, Patrick? My time is valuable.”
Patrick’s voice lost all humor. “As is mine. You’re not even bothering to clean up your messes. Why didn’t your man call the Mageri? It’s standard protocol when arrested by humans to notify the Mageri so they can send in a team to perform a thorough cleanup.”
“And what consequence is it if Salvator’s fingerprints belong with human authorities? These are just humans we’re talking about.”
“Just, he says. You’re my progeny, and what you do reflects on me. That’s the way it is, and it’s my right as your Creator to find out if you’re involved in any illegal activities that could jeopardize my position. If you need money or help, I’m always here. Tell me, Darius, do you need money or help?”
Darius was far too proud to ask for help, especially after he’d lost everything his Creator had given him when he’d become independent. Ever since Darius’s incarceration, Patrick meddled in his affairs, which was why Darius had put distance between them. But he couldn’t afford to get on Patrick’s bad side. “I’ve already bailed him out, and if you wouldn’t mind taking care of the records at the police station, I’d appreciate it,” he said reluctantly.
“Already taken care of, but I’d still like to know what it is I’m protecting you from. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other. Let’s get together. There’s someone I’d like you to meet, and it would mean a great deal to catch up with my progeny. I won’t take no for an answer.”
A knock sounded at the door, and when Salvator poked his head in and started to back out, Darius snapped his fingers and pointed at a chair next to the door.
“Very well,” Darius agreed. “Name the time and place and I’ll rework my schedule.”
