Scales of truth, p.22
Scales of Truth, page 22
Lenny clasped his hands and dropped onto his knees. “Please give me another chance! I’ll do anything!”
Victor didn’t say another word. Lenny saw the small pistol emerging from his pocket. The shot was silent, and the bullet entered between Lenny’s eyes.
He crumpled to the floor with a dull thud, the strings of his life severed.
Victor pocketed the pistol as if it was a commonplace object, like a lighter or a wallet. He peered at the fallen man, his expression unreadable. He thought about how he’d have to replace the rug now that Lenny’s blood seeped onto it.
“A damn shame it didn’t work out, old Len,” he murmured at last. The silence that followed was deep and profound. A void sat where Leonard Dolos’ life had been, one Victor was prepared to fill. He had a few people in mind. This office need not remain empty for long.
He glanced toward the windows where the skyline glowed. A new day was close at hand. Victor motioned for his men to come into the room and take Leonard’s body away. He was about to leave when he noticed something on the desk. The file lay open with the name Stacy Drake at the top of the first paper. Further down, another name in bold stood out.
THORN.
Victor frowned. It seemed Lenny had learned more about the girl since they last saw one another. Before anyone else could spot it, he grabbed the file and folded it under his arm. He hurried toward the office door. His limo waited downstairs, and he wanted out of here before the city filled with crowds and traffic.
He called over his shoulder one last time. “You should alert the press. Tell ‘em poor old Leonard Dolos has been murdered.” He shook his head. “Damn shame to have lost my personal attorney. Wonder who did it?”
He chuckled, then melted away, leaving the police to clean up his mess.
The safe room door swung open, revealing Amy dozing on the sofa.
Stacy had expected to find her friend pacing. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been so much of a timeout for her. However, the second Amy heard Stacy and Rowan enter, she bounded to her feet with relief and glee, running for Stacy. She wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, you’re safe! You were gone for so long!”
She eyed Stacy first and spotted the dried blood on her pants. “You’re hurt. You need help!”
Stacy chuckled. “Remember how I told you about my magic? It heals, too. You should have seen it before. It was a lot worse.” At least now her wound was closed. All she needed to do was clean the area.
Amy’s eyes widened. “And here I thought I’d imagined all that.” She glanced at Rowan next, seeming to wonder why he was shirtless. She was about to ask when she remembered something else. “Oh! Ethan called you about two hours ago. He made me promise to have you call him back.” She handed Stacy her phone. “I may or may not have probed him for insights on your love life.”
“Amy!”
Rowan snickered, which Stacy did not appreciate.
“He’s not my boyfriend. Yes, he is a friendly boy.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to have to call him and apologize. Tell him maybe I should never have introduced him to my errant friend.”
Amy’s eyes gleamed with amusement, but it died when Rowan spoke up. He cleared his throat first. “I must excuse myself. I should check on your car, since I assume they placed a tracking device on it.”
Of course. How else would the assassins have found her here?
When Rowan was gone, Amy asked for the full story. Stacy decided there was no point in holding back the details. She explained about the assassins and how two of them had used magic. She related how the grounds had worked on her behalf and told her about the woman who got away.
Amy whistled. “Holy shit. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m glad you stayed in here,” Stacy replied. She hugged her friend again, hit with overwhelming gratitude and relief. They were all alive.
Amy pulled back, her amusement returning. “Why is Rowan shirtless, though?”
Stacy laughed, then told her friend about the knife and the burning sensation it had given her. Amy waggled her eyebrows. “That’s a lame excuse. I’m sure Rowan would have stripped if you asked him. What was it he said? Three hundred and fifty-plus pleased women and counting?”
“I will not be one of those,” Stacy retorted.
She decided to call Ethan after that. Amy trailed her to the kitchen and began making her a sandwich while Stacy got on the phone.
Ethan picked up on the first ring. “Stacy? Are you all right?”
“Of course I am.” Stacy forced cheerfulness into her voice.
“Your roommate told me you were asleep.”
Stacy didn’t want to lie about the whole thing. “Amy was covering for me. There was a security issue outside that I had to take care of, but everything is good now.” Later, she could tell him the full story.
Ethan seemed to sense she was holding back because they were on the phone and did not push. “Did you stay up waiting for me to call?” she asked at last.
His reply sounded sheepish. “I might have.”
Stacy’s heart warmed. Amy wore a smirk from across the room that said, Yes, a very friendly boy. She finished Stacy’s sandwich and slid it across the table to her. Stacy threw her a grateful glance.
“When will you come by next and tell me about this security issue? Maybe I can help,” Ethan offered.
“Soon,” Stacy answered, sounding cheerful without forcing it anymore. “I’ll bring the sweets.”
They said goodbye, and Amy leaned against the counter, laughing. “Sweets? Like…flavored condoms?”
Stacy nearly threw her sandwich at her. “Rolls, you jackass!”
Their laughter died out at last, and they separated to go back to sleep. Stacy slept soundly and awoke when dawn crept into the sky, casting a soft glow over the grounds. She almost forgot about the night’s turmoil.
She emerged from her room, weary but unscathed. Amy was not up yet, and she saw no sign of Rowan. Outside, the first rays of sun shone through a thick fog hanging over the back gardens. Torin was due to come here soon and straighten out the gardens.
She stepped outside and walked the path barefoot, a shawl wrapped around her arms to keep out the chill. She smiled, wondering what the younger version of herself would think of this. A lawyer with a decent reputation giving up her career for the time being. To chase what?
Her hand went to the locket around her neck. “To do what feels right and discover the full truth.” She felt like it hung behind a veil, and through all the things she’d prepared before her death, her mother was lifting it piece by piece.
Birds chirped, and the deer crept out to graze. The sprites stirred from their hiding and slumber. They darted around, landing on large leaves and the stone edge of the fountain. Stacy closed her eyes and breathed. Yes, this was right.
Her phone rang, breaking the tranquility of the morning. It was Jenna. Why was she calling so early? “Hello?”
“Stacy, thank God you answered. You’ll never believe it.”
Jenna sounded out of breath and urgent.
“Is everything okay?” Stacy’s heart raced.
“With me, yes, but…”
Stacy heard a door close, and the background noise diminished. Jenna was alone, but she still lowered her voice. “Leonard Dolos was found murdered in his own fucking office!”
She froze. This had been the last news she expected. “Who killed him?”
“I don’t fucking know! It’s all over the news, though. We found out because one of our lawyers was due to face him in court today. Obviously, that’s not happening anymore.”
Stacy could hardly believe it. In a snap, her longtime rival had been snuffed out. She should have felt happy or at least relieved, but she only felt emptiness. She thought of Victor Corbinelli, who she suspected might be responsible for this.
“Stacy? Are you still there?” Jenna prodded. “You’re probably as shocked as all of us. Crazy, right?”
“Right,” Stacy echoed. Questions circled her mind. Had Victor been the architect of Lenny’s demise, or had another player in the shadowy world he inhabited grown tired of his schemes? Whatever the case, Stacy knew she’d have to act. Lenny hadn’t been the only one after her.
Another call came in. This time, it was her father. “Jenna, I’ve got to go. Thank you for telling me. I’ll call you back later today.” She said goodbye and answered the other call.
“Good morning, Stacy. I hope all is well. I didn’t hear back from you, so I figured I would call and request a visit to your new home.”
She smiled. “Dad, you don’t have to request a visit. You can come anytime you want.”
“I only wanted to make sure. Everything all right?”
Stacy sighed. “To be honest, the last twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind. I’m okay now, though. I’ll tell you everything when you stop by later.”
His voice was solemn. “I hope you are taking all the proper security precautions, Anastasia.”
There it was. That fatherly “you’d better not be doing anything stupid” tone.
“Everything I can think of,” Stacy replied.
“How does lunch sound?” Khan asked.
“Lunch would be perfect.”
They hung up as Amy emerged from the house. “Stacy? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Wait, are ghosts a thing, too? If witches and real magic are, anything is possible.”
Stacy gave her friend a wan smile. “I’m not sure.” The sun poured into the back portion of the grounds, warming their bodies. She told her about the call she had received from Jenna.
Amy stilled, struck with the same shock. “That’s…big, right? I mean, we’re glad about it?”
“I wish I was glad,” Stacy replied. Her brows furrowed. “But I feel like it’s a warning from whoever was really after me last night.”
“It wasn’t Lenny?”
“He had a part in it.” She explained how two of the assassins had magic and Khan’s theory about someone above Lenny recommending magic-using hitmen. There had been the werewolf and the siren before.
“If there’s someone else, we have to decide what we’re going to do about it,” Amy insisted. “Strike before they see us coming.”
“It might be the other way around.” Stacy’s heart sank. She’d become the prey in a bigger game far faster than expected. She would need all the help she could get. Amy was here, of course. She thought of Ethan, her father, and Rowan. Those at her father’s estate would offer any aid they could. She still had to hire more people to work at her manor house.
She told Amy about her father’s call. At least with him coming over today, they could get advice on what to do next.
Amy looped her arm through Stacy’s and offered an encouraging smile. “We will figure everything out together. We’ll take down every crook who comes our way, one way or another.” She leaned her head on Stacy’s shoulder as they reentered the house. The sprites drifted out into the hazy morning light.
They wandered into the kitchen, and Stacy squeezed Amy tight. “Thank you for everything. Before we do any real ‘take down the bad guys’ planning, I’d like to decorate this place in our own way.”
Amy grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I bet Rowan has some tips since, you know, he’s good at everything. It’s starting to get annoying, actually. Do you think he has any flaws?”
Stacy laughed.
Amy gestured at the bright yellow kitchen walls. They had discussed repainting yesterday. “Let’s do it, then. Preferably before your dad gets here for lunch.”
THE STORY CONTINUES
The story continues with book three, The Drake Defense, coming soon to Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.
Claims Yours At
AUTHOR’S NOTES
MAY 11, 2024
Thank you for reading book two! And I am so happy you made it here to the back.
It’s very quiet here
I just wrote my author notes for my other series, The Chronicles of the Witchborn, book seven. I didn’t have much to say in those either.
Spring is here, which means flowers and baby animals. Have you ever seen a newborn Highland cow? Locally, we call them hairy coos. Take whatever you deem adorable and multiply by five. They gallop around the fields, stumbling over their own feet and accidentally head-butting their brothers and sisters. Or maybe not accidentally. Siblings do that, I suppose.
This morning, I decided to perfect cherry scones. I am on my third batch, and my neighbors are helping me eat the mistakes. They might not be huge and light, but they are delicious. I am about to run out of Cornish clotted cream (the best, although the Welsh would argue that) and the cherry jam I made to go with them, but it’s all for a good cause.
I also made a trip to the Polish store in Berwick, so I have potato and cheese pierogi, which I will serve with mushroom cream sauce for dinner, as well as an enormous salad. Salads in the UK are…polite, consisting of two or three leaves and a slice of tomato. I picked up the giant multi-veg salad habit while visiting Renee, and I shan’t go back to the dull British offerings. Also, no salad cream ever again! Good olive oil and balsamic vinegar for me from now on, with freshly baked bread to dip in it. Maybe I’ll eat soon. I’m getting hungry.
Wait, I can’t eat yet. I’m hoping our Nat can join me so her Tara and my Emma can have a good wrestling match and wear themselves out. Emma has spring fever, and she wants to go out much more than I do. I have to write, and of course, cook.
The usual business
I always have to thank LMBPN's staff for making my journey to publication as painless as they could. From the beta team who suggests improvements to the series to Kelly O, who does everything, to the editor who smooths my prose to the just-in-time team who catches last-minute errors, it is a joy working with you!
Thank you for taking a chance on my series! If you enjoy it and you have a moment, leaving a review would be very helpful for me (as it is for any writer).
I look forward to catching up with you in the next book.
Izzie Campbell
BOOKS FROM ISABEL
The Chronicles of the WitchBorn
(with Michael Anderle)
The First Witch-Mage (Book 1)
The Witch-Mage Awakens (Book 2)
The Witch-Mage Liberation (Book 3)
The Witch-Mage Uprising (Book 4)
The Witch-Mage Breaking (Book 5)
The Witch-Mage Ascending (Book 6)
The Magic Academy of Paris
(with Michael Anderle)
The Forbidden Incantations (Book 1)
The Treacherous Alchemy (Book 2)
The Cursed Enchantments (Book 3)
The Perilous Secrets (Book 4)
The Sinister Onslaught (Book 5)
A Resilient Requiem (Book 6)
Drakethorn Legal
(With Michael Anderle)
A Witch’s Legacy (Book 1)
Scales of Truth (Book 2)
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Isabel Campbell, Scales of Truth
