Page 16 of The Demon's Fire
Already, he was running through a mental list of human resource department contacts at each Alliance facility. He’d need a list of all employees. Medical releases. Logs for the tests. “You want to meet with me, Director? I’d be happy to get together anytime at your convenience. Do you prefer coming to my office at the Alliance or meeting at the ministry?”
Opening his calendar, Cal said, “Yes. I am available tomorrow at three. I’m sure I can have some information for you by that time. The rest later.”
Cal resumed logging Alarik’s call. “Think nothing of it, Director. Happy to help.”
A smile spread across his face as he lowered the phone, ending the unexpected conversation. This could be a big deal. An Aeternal was reaching out for his assistance. Cal could perform a valuable service for an important person. No telling where it would lead. Influential contacts were an asset.
****
Kolewatched from the rear of the training center, his arms folded over his chest, a frown on his face. Two of his younger Firebrands, Tyr and Brak, usually friends, were going at it.
Tyr, the light glinting off his dumbass piercings, cast a spell which tossed Brak smack into the wall.
Splat.
Sliding to the mat, the carnal demon jumped upright, dropping his massive frame into a fighting crouch, eyes locked on his opponent. “Unfair, warlock.”
“Freron, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your demon in check, or I’ll do it for you.”
Sabine, a celestial nymph with her sun-streaked blonde hair twisted into two braids hanging down her back, nudged Ram with a playful elbow as they watched. “My money’s on the warlock.”
“You’re on,” the satyr Firebrand responded.
Brak’s demon flickered but shut down again when he bolted toward Tyr, locking his arms around the warlock’s waist, taking him to the ground. They grappled, rolled. Brak on top, pummeling Tyr’s face. The mage shot to his feet, tossing fists which glanced off Brak’s chin.
Ram and Sabine, off to the side, laughed, shouting taunts at both fighters. When the nymph Firebrand spied Kole, she punched Ram. “Busted.”
She rushed to Brak, jumping up to hook an arm around his thick neck, pulling him away from Tyr. Ram, a satyr whose ego along with his playboy rep knew no bounds, stiffened his spine. He had the smarts to get between the combatants, pushing the warlock backward.
Ram stared at the ground, trying to stifle a laugh. “We told you idiots to knock it off.”
Glaring at the satyr and Sabine, Kole stormed onto the mat, all eyes on him, his blood, bullet holes, and flapping pants leg. “I expected more from you two.”
The fighters shrugged while Sabine choked on a giggle, still holding Brak.
When Ram moved away, Tyr charged the carnal demon, sucker punching him. The satyr Firebrand grabbed the warlock’s arms, flinging him aside. “Are you crazy, dude?”
Kole reached Tyr in three long strides, drew back a meaty fist, and slammed his knuckles into the warrior’s jaw. The young warlock skidded across the mat. Blinking, he rose, dazed, rubbing his chin. “Damn, Comm, that hurt.”
“What the fuck is this all about? You first.” He pointed at Tyr.
The warlock’s eyes narrowed, fixed on hisfreron. “I’ve got nothing to say.”
Kole growled. He swung toward the demon. “Your turn, punk. And I better not hear ‘nothing’ again.”
“I may have said something about Rein’s sister, Elisabeta, being at the Blood Shed, drawing a crowd. My bad.”
“And you got pissed? She isn’t yours anymore. Get over the female.”
Still rubbing his jaw, Tyr nodded.
Kole planted fists to his hips. “I’ve got the icy B from hell in my office waiting to go on a tour led by yours truly. Now, I’ve got two otherwise normal males acting like assholes. Shake.”
Hanging his head, Brak stuck out a palm.
The warlock Firebrand stared a few moments before clasping it. “Sorry, man. I’m stupid.”
Brak laughed, a roar as big as his size. “I can’t argue with ya.”
