Mob sorcery 5, p.42
Mob Sorcery 5, page 42
By the time the ritual faded completely, the sheen still lingered. Hamelin’s skin held an odd black luster to it, as if she’d risen from a tar pit. Her underwear appeared untarnished.
Yet even through the strange coloring, Vince immediately knew she’d healed a huge portion of her body. Or perhaps he should say she regenerated a lot of her living corpse. She clearly wasn’t alive in the ordinary sense of the word.
Her ribs no longer stuck out from her chest as if she’d lost all body fat. Full layers of skin hid her veins, forcing Vince to concentrate to see them. A short bob of silken white hair hung from her head. Her face had turned from grotesque to almost beautiful, showing no signs of it almost rotting away from the inside.
Then Hamelin clicked her tongue and rubbed her arm. The black sheen faded and revealed red skin.
“A little fresher than I expected, but I’ve never regrown this much at once,” she said. “I’ll probably only need to do this a couple more times to regain my muscle and body fat.”
Her hands landed on her stomach, which sank in too far. Did she even have internal organs?
“Okay, that was pretty nuts,” Fia admitted. “Which is also terrifying. Vince’s blood can do that?”
“I supercharged my regeneration ritual with it,” Hamelin said. “Can’t do that too often, but whatever’s inside you, Vince, it has strong regeneration. Or has magic related to regeneration.” She scowled. “Or maybe it’s a phylactery. Fuck.”
“Wait, a phylactery?” he asked. “I know whatever’s in me can’t awaken on its own.”
“Really?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll take your word for it. But phylacteries are basically huge batteries of life. I hate that this could be a phoenix as easily as it’s another lich’s forgotten backup.” Hamelin chewed on her lip, which now had substance and was a beautiful ruby red. “But why place a phylactery inside a random human in the slums? The only living phylacteries I’ve met were in the care of vampires as part of some ancient pact. You don’t place a backup of your entire being somewhere it will get shattered by a random junkie.”
Light shined from the far side of the workbench, interrupting Hamelin’s musings. The phantom hovered there, glowing brighter than usual and holding up the parchment. It was now covered in ink and, presumably, writing.
“Oh, right. The contract.” She shook her head and wandered over. “We should work through it. Also exchange contact details.”
“Ones you actually use,” Gaby growled.
Hamelin threw her t-shirt back on while the phantom produced a phone from somewhere. At some point, Vince realized the porn had been switched off.
His phone buzzed and he opened it to see a notification from his messenger app. Someone called Leif had contacted him.
He stared at the profile of this “Leif.” It comprised an obese man with blond hair tipping a fedora.
“… I’m assuming this isn’t you. Your name isn’t Leif, you’re not five thousand pounds, and I think you’d tear your head off before wearing a fedora,” Vince said.
Nina leaned over his shoulder. An easy feat for her height. “I don’t think he’s five thousand… Oh, it’s in his profile. This is a troll account, right?”
“What, you don’t like it?” Hamelin clicked her tongue. “I have a bunch more. Like this funny mustache account… Oh, this is who you messaged, Gabriela.”
“Why do you have fifty alt accounts if you don’t check them?” Fia asked.
“You need to set up a pattern of activity before you start trolling on social media. Any idiot can see you made the account after some big event and use the block button. So you make lots of accounts years before you need to use them, and hibernate them between trolling. I typically use bots to post about sports while I’m not actively using them. These accounts are my cold take testing accounts. Written off as bots, so they’re good for private messages.”
“Cold take testing?” Vince sighed. “Do I want to know?”
Hamelin lit up like a child who’d been asked about their current obsession. “When I troll people for real, I want to use hot takes that piss them off. Food stuff is usually pretty good, as people get really pissy over it. Like, ‘American cheese is the baked beans of the USA’ is practically evergreen.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Nina’s tone suggested she might splatter Hamelin against the wall.
“Got a bite even using it as an example. See what I mean?” The necromancer grinned and scanned her phone. “Let’s see. You don’t need to shower if you have body spray. Or you don’t deserve a tip for doing your job. Fluffy tails are overrated. Defending a billion-dollar company is like standing up for your wife’s boyfriend—I mean, that’s more fact than hot take, but it works.” She scrolled down her phone. “Voters are accountable for what happens in a democracy—”
“You literally just talked about how France was set up to fail,” Fia said flatly.
Hamelin sighed. “I just said this is for trolling. Of course it’s bullshit. I mean, kind of. Sometimes I’m just pointing out an uncomfortable truth for people who can’t stand reality. But the difference between that and an asshole screeching because their mother made them take a shower for the first time in a month is hard to determine.”
“This doesn’t explain what cold take testing is,” Vince said, and almost immediately regretted asking.
“I’d joke that it’s the opposite of a hot take, but it’s more nuanced. If you say something intended to annoy people, and you get applause, that take is cold and you’re not trolling. Half the internet is kids nailing themselves to a cross while saying coffee and beer taste like shit and acting as if they’re being crucified alongside Jesus himself.”
“So you have fake accounts to test for that, instead of doing the normal thing and looking at reactions to other people saying it?” Fia asked.
“Yeah.” Hamelin nodded enthusiastically. “It also helps me prove my theory that the internet is a self-sorting method of eugenics.”
Oh, God fucking dammit. How had they gotten here of all places?
“I don’t think I need to hear about eugenics,” Vince said.
“Please.” Hamelin palmed off the air. “The internet reveals the true character of people. I’m doing this for science, but every cold take I uncover reveals a deep vein of people going ‘I’ve said the one thing I can’t and criticized some popular celebrity’ or whatever bullshit. Nothing reveals a person’s lack of principles like the internet. I mean, would you want children from someone obsessed enough to make tons of alt accounts to manipulate a community?”
The entire group stared at her.
“Have you invented a theory of eugenics that puts yourself in the ‘do not reproduce’ category?” Gaby asked, voice higher pitched than usual.
“I’m undead. I can’t have kids,” Hamelin said automatically.
She’d absolutely had this argument a hundred times already.
“I think we understand and will never discuss this again,” Vince said. “Let’s go over the contract while you avoid the subject completely, or so help me God I will add a clause that bars you from speaking about it.”
Hamelin pouted, but played ball. Daji cackled.
“Is she so wrong?” the fox whispered in his ear. “In a world like this, the strong and powerful should claim all women. Her system would simply disallow the unworthy. I mean, isn’t that how capitalism works?”
Vince suspected she was intentionally misinterpreting capitalism. Her laughter proved as much.
Returning to the main subject, he said, “Hamelin, give me your main contact. Or something you check regularly enough and isn’t a troll account.”
“Fiiiiine.” The necromancer rolled her eyes before messaging him with an account called Piper Hamelin. Either she used to be far prettier, even if he accounted for a little more regeneration, or she’d used some heavy Photoshop on her profile pic.
Eventually, the group escaped Hamelin’s underground lair. Something or someone had removed the remains of the undead elves. A bloodstain near Gaby’s bike implied her security system had been activated, but she said nothing.
True to predictions, Alessia chewed him out something fierce over his deal with Hamelin. But she did offer to have her lawyer, Enrico, check the contract as well. Especially as it involved the Lionettis now.
Vince wanted to smooth things over with Alessia, but had made plans with Pola tonight. He at least gave the mafia don some cuddles and tail pets until her whines became more plaintive than annoyed. Which did force him to explain why he smelled like Alessia when Pola sniffed him later that night.
Early the next morning, his phone buzzed and awoke him. A familiar contact who had gone silent recently had finally messaged him. It wasn’t Hamelin or any of her strange troll accounts, but a woman he’d anticipated hearing from for nearly two weeks.
Come visit us soon, Anzu asked under the contact Agent. It’s earlier than I planned, but we all know of the plans of foxes and men.
As if to tempt him, she’d attached an image of her upper half in a frilly bra. Her seven amazing golden tails hovered tantalizingly behind her, while she smiled at the camera. Perfect skin and a pair of gorgeous orbs drew his eye. He immediately saved the image when he noticed the cute pink nipple poking out the edge of her improperly adjusted bra.
I hope you add this to the other nipslip you have in your collection. ;) Anzu messaged immediately afterward.
Vince’s blood nearly froze. How the fuck did she know he possessed copies of hers and Momo’s nipslips from that one photoshoot?
Then he looked at the image he’d saved and decided he didn’t care.
The downside being he needed to tango with the twins again. But was that truly a downside?
Chapter 27
Further messages pestered him as he rose and prepared coffee in the penthouse kitchen. Alessia’s humming rolled over him from where she sat in the main room. The barest rays of dawn bounced off the harbor, but Vince kept the lights on so he didn’t burn his balls off with boiling water.
Visit today or tomorrow, Anzu messaged. We’ll be home this evening and tomorrow morning. Otherwise it’ll be a pain to arrange something.
Can’t you teleport? he replied.
She sent him an animated emoji of a catgirl dressed like a famous detective getting black bagged. It appeared to be part of the same set as the one Gaby sent him a while ago.
The problem is you, Anzu said. Our penthouse is heavily monitored and all hell will break loose if you’re caught visiting us. We have a special teleportation system set up to let us in, and we need to make arrangements to get you through it.
Or else I’m the one getting shoved in a Houou black site, he replied.
Perhaps. The risk of somebody noticing what you’re carrying goes up and then you’ll have a lot more to worry about.
Shit. He hadn’t thought of that.
“Alessia, do you know if you’ll have the stuff with the house sorted by tomorrow?” he called out.
“I know now,” she said, turning to look at him over the counter that separated the kitchen from the main room. “There’s some paperwork to handle before anyone can get to work, but the house can support the necessary security upgrades. The owner accepted my offer and terms.”
“So I’ll be busy tomorrow?”
She raised an eyebrow and placed a hand to her chest, drawing his eyes to her impressive bust. Very little covered it as she wore a sheer black nightgown that allowed him to see the lacy indigo bra beneath it.
“I wanted to inspect the property with you,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him and twitching her wolf ears cutely. “It’s our last chance to make any last-minute modifications. I know you had some… ideas with Nina and Nicki. But I plan to visit you. Pola as well, once she gets past her concerns with Nina.”
The idea of Alessia visiting him in his own home excited Vince. Even if it wasn’t his yet. He’d been using her bedroom, which held a special allure, but fucking his billionaire boss into his own bed was an experience he’d yet to enjoy. The same went with Pola.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll keep tomorrow free.”
Alessia smiled brightly at him, her tail wagging behind her.
Today, he messaged Anzu. I’m busy tomorrow.
Surprisingly, the fox didn’t question him further. I’ll make the arrangements and message you once they’re complete. Be sure to have your flier available all afternoon. You can’t bring any emotional support bodyguards, but feel free to tell them. Even Kiyoko. She knows where we live and can glare at us from her perch. Maybe we can put on a show. She added a kiss emoji at the end.
Vince sincerely doubted anything would happen, sexually or violently. Mostly because Anzu had been surprisingly business-like.
“Except for sending you a photo of her tits,” Daji pointed out. “Do keep your dick in your pants, master. I want to see her brain melt as you fuck her into submission, but that requires you to be on top and in control.”
For once, he agreed.
Okay, maybe not for once, but Daji had been very horny lately and he worried it was influencing his thoughts.
“With the amount of sex you have, you can’t blame me for how hard your cock is right now,” Daji teased.
He sighed and willed the blood from his crotch. Both coffees were ready and he carried them out to Alessia. She patted the sofa beside her while setting down her tablet.
“I take it you’re making plans.” She took her coffee with murmured thanks. “You’re much busier now. Making date plans for all of us between work. Are you finding the time to train?”
“In bursts, but I’ll find the time for a big, dedicated session when things calm down,” he said. “Unlike Nina, I go crazy when I do nothing but train. January drove me nuts.” He sipped his coffee. “You’ve been busy yourself. Always out and about. I understand why Fia felt stressed when she was just a capo.”
Alessia’s face burned and she looked away, ears flattening. “We weren’t as busy then. But… You’re right. Fia picked up a lot of work at times like now, although this is exceptional.”
“Why?” he asked.
“February is a busy month. There are charity events for many causes I have to attend. Lunar New Year is happening as we speak, and Aulfair has a sizable Chinese population that fled the Japanese occupation. While I don’t care much for it, we also had Setsubun for the Japanese last weekend. And it’s an election year. Uncle Wagner created chaos, but the first primaries to select Davis’s opponent are happening as we speak.” She paused. “Not literally, but you know what I mean.”
Vince sort of did. He avoided political news like the plague and knew next to nothing about who the candidates to oppose President Davis might be. Nina and Fia probably knew, but they’d also been busy. Not that they’d talk to him about something as tedious as political primaries.
“… I thought you cut back on that?” he asked quietly.
Alessia ran her fingers over the back of his palm. “I did. Thank you for remembering that little conversation we had. I cut back on the degree of lobbying I’m doing, at least in person. I’d be flying across the country for the next few months otherwise. Instead, I’m simply targeting funds. If I cut back entirely on political lobbying, I’ll burn bridges as old as Aulfair. It’s easy to blame voters for their foolishness, but I’d rather not follow in my ancestors’ footsteps. Could I call myself a Lionetti if I did nothing in the face of evil, knowing how many have sacrificed themselves to get us here?”
He nodded grimly. Duilio had given similar warnings, and it was difficult to simply write off the words of those who had lived through such times.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag the conversation down.” She leaned against his side. “Weren’t you and Pola doing early morning runs? She woke us up the other day knocking on my door.”
He stared at her. Alessia smirked back.
“Should I start knocking on her door and ask that you do some early morning yoga?” She drew a circle on his chest while her tail swirled seductively behind her. “Fair’s fair, no?”
“I think it’s better when Pola sleeps in,” he said drily. “We can still sneak in some ‘yoga’ if you like, so long as we clean up before she sniffs us and whines too much.”
“Please. I got used to smelling her, Fia, and Nina all over you. She can handle my scent.” Alessia pushed him down and nipped at his neck.
The front door opened with a loud series of clacks and a beep, and she froze. Vince held her against his chest while reaching for a flame laser.
Lucia strolled into the main room, blinked at him, and made an “O” with her mouth. She carried a large bag.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, failing to hide a grin. “But breakfast is here. Unless V is going to be your breakfast, boss.”
“Shut up, Lucia,” Alessia growled as she rose to her feet, face red. “Pola should still be asleep once we finish eating.”
Lucia simply nodded, unwilling to push her luck.
Unfortunately for Alessia, the smell of food drew Vince’s other billionaire girlfriend from her slumber. He’d have to organize that yoga session for later.
Especially as he had plans for lunch.
Ally showed up just before noon and Lucia dragged him out of the atelier. He’d been doing barrier training. The cramped fight with those zombies had been another dangerous reminder of his most glaring weakness.
“It’s a weakness,” Daji said. “Even if you refuse to use my barrier to cover for your weakness, I’d say the biggest problem you encountered was a lack of multi-target spells above initiate-tier. You’re a known quantity. Expect assassins specialized to kill you. Hamelin, Juliet, and that sorcerer with the virtuoso-tier spell were all hitmen aimed at mages exactly like you.”
If they’d been aimed exactly at him, he’d be dead.
“Similar enough to you,” she corrected. “You’re strong and have been responding to your weaknesses. Ambushes that stop you from casting your dragon will kill you as easily as your somewhat deficient barrier.”
