Much to Kyle’s relief, he and Jones reached the museum without incident. The normal sentry golems that provided security immediately around the Museum were all patrolling other areas of the park or further out around the perimeter. Whatever the case, the warlock was immensely grateful that he didn’t have to test how well the enchantments on his museum employee identification badge worked during times when the golems were one hundred percent active.

Jones seemed to breathe a sigh of relief also as Kyle keyed open one of the unobtrusive rear service doors that opened into the loading dock. They were unable to enter through the main doors as those were covered with a security barrier at the time because the front of the building had huge glass windows. The kind of glass that was a near-perfect barrier against magical seepage, but still just glass.

Director Arcas was waiting for them as they stepped into the cooler interior and dimmed emergency lighting of the museum. The unique scent of the museum greeted him with its familiar blend of musty antiquities and clinical sterility. He took a deep breath, savoring the subtle hints of old parchment, corroded metal, and preserved inks, arts, and dust that hovered just below the air-conditioned climate-controlled breeze that was tainted with the slight chemical smell of cleaning solution and preservatives.

In the distance, his friend was cooking up a storm in the museum’s café, adding his own blend of cooking magic to the arcanes that buzzed around and among the artifacts housed here. Food, magic, and old books.

It was better than home.

Kyle was relieved to see that some of the excitement of the day before had worn off Director Arcas. The bright hungry glint in his burnt umber eyes had dimmed to its normal level of bemused bewitchment. His black hair was brushed back with a few loose locks framing his forehead and highlighted the vampire’s porcelain skin and perfectly proportioned face.

The director had the stereotypical too perfect features of vampires. He was fawned over by women for his god looks and unfairly muscular physique. Every time he looked at his boss Kyle was reminded that the vampire, with his perpetually sardonic half-smile and the careless ease he styled himself with, was just Sam’s type. As a responsible brother, he should definitely continue avoiding the pair ever meeting. Because if the parade of dates the vampire brought to museum galas and functions were any indication, Sam was totally his type too.

That was a disturbing train of thought, and he quickly shoved it away before the recurring nightmare where his boss was his brother-in-law found any more fuel in the darkened corners of his mind. Happy thoughts. Kyle gave his boss a pained smile and desperately thought of anything else. Happy, happy, thoughts.

“So, you truly are alive. Congratulations on a successful first artifact retrieval assignment.” Arcas fanged smile spread elegantly across his face with genuine delight. Though it gave Jones the heebie-jeebies so much he barely suppressed a shudder, that smile actually relaxed Kyle and put him at ease. It meant he wasn’t in trouble for… everything he’d done the day before. “I was fearful that you were dead, and I’d been conversing with someone who had looted your corpse.”

“Nope. Not dead.” Smiling back, Kyle closed the distance between them and clasped the vampire’s proffered hand.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I bet you almost wished you were this morning. Eh?” Kyle groaned as Adrian Arcas, the vampire of an unknown number of centuries but who looked like he was perpetually in his mid-twenties, joked at Kyle’s expense. They both chuckled and Adrian clapped his employee on the shoulder and then turned to walk further into the building. “You had quite the exciting day you two. While I just sat here in safety like an old hermit shepherding grumpy tourists. Could you secure the door Mister Jones?” Arcas called over his shoulder with the vaguely European accent that no one could place as he escorted Kyle along with him.

“Also, congratulations on surviving as well, Mister Jones. I didn’t mean to neglect you; I was just overwhelmed with relief that I hadn’t lost my Warlock of the Archivist. Please, come, join us. I can brief the two of you as we walk.” He’d removed his suit jacket at some point and now had it draped across his shoulder like some debonaire trust fund playboy. However, it was also swishing behind him like a short cape and Kyle sent a silent prayer to the universe that Sam never, ever, ever met his boss.

Because…

….eww.

But enough of that. Kyle had been worried sick about what happened at the incident site after he had irresponsibly left his sister and the Magic Crimes Division to deal with it. Though, when anyone asked in the future, he was going to frame it as heroically running to the rescue of a school full of children under monster attack even if he hadn’t really intended to save anyone but Anna.

“So, the retrieval was successful?” If Arcas noticed that his question was hesitant, he didn’t point it out. Instead, the probably older vampire nodded happily.

“Quite. Both corpses have been airlifted to an appropriate holding facility and they have left the vehicle intact pending further advisement by a museum representative.” Arcas was very satisfied with the outcome. “Though your sister and Gleipnir oversaw the transport, credit and first examination rights are coming to the museum. So, I’d count this as successful.” His slight smile twisted a little higher as he chuckled and gave Kyle a side-eye. “I doubt your sister will be pleased with that.”

“No,” Jones guffawed from Arcas’ other side and Kyle gave a small chuckle also. “She will not be pleased with that at all,” he agreed as Arcas’ devilish grin grew mischievous.

“She might just slap you again, Kyle.” Jones and Kyle went awkwardly silent as they realized that Kyle and Sam’s shenanigans had gotten back to their boss. “You’re not in trouble, I understand that you can’t control how your sister behaves. You are only responsible for your own actions.” Continuing along the broad corridor that led from the loading bays to the offices and public display rooms on the second and third floors. “I can’t wait to meet the woman who isn’t afraid to slap a man who can cast mage-killer spells.”

Kyle gulped. Suddenly the hallway was a yawning chasm as his mind spun with his worst sibling dating fears. Then, a thought occurred to him, and he had the perfect response.

“Should I arrange for her and her partner, ahem,” the warlock of the Archivist cleared his throat significantly as he said the name, “Alex, to come to confer with the museum in person for this retrieval?” At first, Jones furrowed his brow then understanding dawned on him as he cleared the confusion off his face just as Arcas glanced his way.

“No.” If there was the ever so slightest hint of suspicion in his tone, the vampire hid it well. “It’s quite alright. Your sister just seems like an interesting person, from the stories I’ve heard. You do have a very remarkable family.”

“It’s just Sam.” Because while he thought his sister was remarkable for being herself, she was, after all, just being herself. She was smart and funny, and a bit of a brat. But she worked in a lab most of the time like him. They were average people. So, Kyle wasn’t sure what was so remarkable about a girl slapping her wizard brother who would barely be able to cast basic spells once the arcanes went back to normal. “But she’s alright.”

Adrian Arcas continued smiling at Kyle and Jones as he closed the door to his office behind them. It was clear that neither of them had heard about Kyle’s sister’s exploits. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell them.