Chapter 4
1286 Words
“You’re not listening to me…,” Raymond fake-whined, drawing Tyler out of his ruminations.
“I’m listening, Ray. It’s just…you know…she’s the boss, if I offend her –” Tyler replied quickly, blinking.
He had not heard a word Raymond had said from the time he brought out his little friends.
“I won't let her mess with you like that. She’s my cousin after all!” Raymond declared confidently.
Tyler exhaled mentally. He had played his cards right. Tyler laughed lightly, for Raymond’s benefit.
“Thanks, Ray. I promise, if things go too far, I’ll bring it to HR,” Tyler stated placatingly.
“Fine. Make sure you tell me first, though,” Raymond stated flatly.
“But you said –” Tyler replied haltingly.
“I know. But…if it really gets to that point, come to me first, okay?” Raymond pressed.
“Has she ever…,” Tyler inquired hesitantly, letting his voice trail off.
“No. Not that I’ve ever heard. But those assistants of hers would probably have killed the guy,” Raymond replied lightly.
Tyler held back his laughter. “Got it,” the diligent inspector remarked dismissively.
Raymond chuckled. “You don’t like them. It’s okay. No one does. But she needs them to keep all the hangers-on at bay. Without them, our office would be filled with suitors day and night. No work would get done –”
“Ray,” Tyler cut in politely.
“Hmmm?”
“Where are you?”
“What? Me? Oh! Oh, right! I gotta go! I’ll call you later. Don’t leave the office for the rest of the week. Check things remotely, call the field team. Send your report on Friday, okay?” Raymond replied hurriedly, suddenly in a rush.
“Yes, Sir,” Tyler replied formally, a small smile on his face.
“Come on, Ty!!”
“Sorry. Sure thing, boss,” Tyler said breezily.
“There you go! Later!” Raymond called back pleasantly.
The line went dead. Tyler hung up and sat back.
There was a sharp knock on his door. He paused. It wasn’t a colleague’s knock. Three deliberate strikes, like someone used to doors opening for them.
Tyler did not move from his chair. He pressed a button on his desk as he put his friends away.
“Come in.”
The door opened. Two men, both in dark suits, walked in like they owned the space, which, given who their boss was, they basically did.
They were personal bodyguards to Lord Belarnt. Not the regular type of guards most nobles had. These were special, just like their master, the second-wealthiest of all nobles. These men were ex-soldiers, trained by the fourth most powerful noble house, the Volteras.
This is a first, Tyler registered, watching them approach. He did not rise from his seat.
“Inspector Varsen,” the larger of the two remarked, cold eyes on Tyler’s face.
“Yes?” Tyler replied, holding the man’s gaze.
“Lord Belarnt would like to see you.”
Tyler blinked at the man, a slightly confused expression on his face. “I’ve already submitted my Brighton report,” Tyler replied carefully. “Just this morning.”
The man nodded, his expression neutral. “That's fine. We're not here for the paperwork.”
His colleague closed the office door behind them and stayed in front of it. Tyler’s hazel eyes darted between the two men, and he shifted forward on his seat slightly.
At that same moment, there was a subtle shimmer of the protection gem on the man closest to him, an item on his wrist. Active, not dormant. Primed.
These men were ready for resistance.
Interesting, Tyler mused.
“Then... What is this about?” Tyler responded out loud.
“You went to Brighton. Alone. Then entered a collapsed mine without proper safety gear or the required support. Lord Belarnt is curious about your... passion for your job.”
Tyler stared at the man’s gradually darkening gaze.
He glanced at the man’s colleague again, then stood, slowly to his full height, facing the one closer to him.
Tyler was taller than either of them. The one in front of him took a step back to keep the Inspector in view.
Tyler moved around the desk, not quickly, not threateningly, just moving, as if to stretch his legs, heading toward the window.
The lead guard turned to track him; the movement gave Tyler more space and placed both guards in a tighter position. The two men were now not covering the room the way they had been when they entered.
Tyler stopped at the window. He gazed out at the gem fog still hanging over the city below.
“Alone,” Tyler repeated thoughtfully, as if tasting the word. “What of it?” he stated, louder this time, placing his hands behind his back as if the men in his office were his subordinates.
There was a stillness in the room. Then, the lead guard moved. Fast.
“Ask the Lord when you meet him,” he growled, reaching for Tyler’s shoulder. His colleague peeled off the door, taking a ready stance.
Tyler watched them both in the glass, right until the lead guard’s hand was almost on his collar.
What happened next took less than two seconds.
Tyler's left hand intercepted the grab at the wrist, blocking the man’s movement and using the guard’s own forward momentum to pull him off balance and past.
Tyler’s elbow swiped down and stopped short just in front of the man’s nose.
The guard’s eyes moved from the flesh and bone destructive force an inch in front of him to Tyler’s face. A thin film of sweat broke out on his forehead as he locked eyes with something his mind was not registering.
The mild-mannered Inspector was gazing down at him as if he, an ex-Voltera soldier, were a mere commoner trying to steal his wallet.
The colleague came forward. Tyler was already facing him. He did not raise his hands. He did not shift into a stance. He simply looked at the man, placing his hands in his trouser pockets.
The colleague stopped.
There was three feet of space between them. Tyler held the man's gaze, calm as stone. After a beat, he turned to the speaker of the two.
The man had straightened, and he was gazing warily at Tyler, rubbing his shoulder, still trying to figure out how his entire arm was hurting from a simple parry move.
“I think,” Tyler said quietly, “you should tell Lord Belarnt that I was in a meeting with my supervisor when you arrived and I asked you to come back later.”
He stepped forward, the gaze behind his glasses like steel. “Unless, of course, you want to explain to the Lord why his trained personnel ended up in the Tower clinic with multiple abrasions and concussions,” he droned, turning to the one at the door.
The lead guard let go of his shoulder and straightened fully. He smoothed his jacket while his colleague took a careful step back.
Neither man spoke.
They left silently.
It’s starting to heat up here, Tyler mused. No matter, it’s almost time anyway…
He sat down, cracked his stiff neck, and pulled his friends back out.
Finally, alone, with peace and quiet, he refocused on the gems again. He reached for the middle one, the Junster, and held it in his palm.
Then he closed his eyes and closed his fingers over the Junster. He channeled energy into it. The gem glowed against his palm; warm, alive, humming with the potential to level a hundred-meter radius.
- Writer
