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Chapter 105: Party Starter

The rest of the time until the party passes like a flash in a pan, and before I really know it, I’m standing before yet another teleporter in a slightly adjusted dress with Noland at my side. He fiddles with a suit that fits him perfectly, which is only slightly different than the one he usually wears, and his eyes are distant and glassy with thought.

“Are you finally going to tell me why Ursula thinks everyone there is going to be terrified of you, or do I have to wait for the screams to start to get my answer?”

He smirks and waggles a finger at me. “All in due time, all in due time. Two last quick things; make sure you always keep whichever sister we’re looking after in your awareness range, and even though Pearl can talk all she wants, you can’t respond to her in any way. Not even the Class Card messaging you used back on the krarig.”

I nod in understanding and pull a clear strap back into place. “They’re going to have cameras everywhere, then?”

“That’s one reason why, yes. The other is that I know they’ve got a few classes that can almost read thoughts, but not as much as they want you to think. It’s closer to being really well attuned to body language and having insane eyesight and hearing. Kind of like a weaker version of your awareness.”

Pearl peeks out of her shell with a blinding smile. “The system can’t hold a candle to my greatness!”

Noland rolls his eyes, but doesn’t counter her point. Ever since I introduced Pearl to them, he’s the only one that hasn’t been perfectly accepting of her. Ursula acts like she’s just another part of me, March treats her like a living myth, but Noland treats her like the unknown organism that she is. Can’t blame him for being cautious, honestly.

“You heard the man, Pearl; no coming out. How’s Fleur doing?”

“Oh, she’s fine; just not strong enough to come out yet. I’ll make sure she doesn’t make a grand appearance at the absolute wrong time.” Pearl pats my cheek reassuringly, then grins at Noland. “See you soon-ish, suit guy.”

He can’t hold back the shudder that works its way down his spine. Pearl squishes back into her shell, and the moment her voice is cut off from the outside world, she breaks down into a massive giggle fit. It isn’t the reaction I expected when Noland started giving her the side-eye, but apparently she likes the way he reacts. Maybe that’s a little bit of Illumisia’s influence.

“Two minutes.” He says, cutting the previous conversation off completely. “We’re teleporting to the meet-up point, where we’ll take the twin who decided to come first to the party platform. Now we don’t have definite proof that the party is actually taking place in a floating platform, but circumstantial evidence points directly to it. Do you need to see the notes again?”

I shake my head as a clipboard appears in his hand. “The person paying for everything is Matteus Comistral, a rich asshole who’s got connections to basically everyone. He’s most known for using magic in extremely lavish ways; floating cruises, orgies with simulacra of famous people–that kind of thing. And, for some reason, he really wants the Preservation to have complete control over Class Coin distribution.”

Noland nods. “That’s the short and simple. My theory is that he already has a deal in place to act as a Class Coin distributor for the Preservation, or he wants them to become a black market item to make them even more valuable. Either way, greed is definitely making his decision for him.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask–does he have a class of his own?”

“No idea. I haven’t met the guy in years, but the last time we talked, he was extremely militant on the ‘purity of humanity’.” Noland grimaced and crossed his arms. “It was some bullshit conspiracy theory about magic making your kids dumber, so he wanted to keep himself pure and, in his words, ‘more desirable’. Not that I trust someone with morals as flexible as an olympic gymnast to stick to his own beliefs.”

So it’s a rock-solid ‘maybe’, got it. But even if he doesn't have a class of his own, there’s no way the guy won’t have an entourage of Classed-up monsters protecting him at all times. Well, it’s not our job to try and murder the guy, so the only way it’ll be a problem is if he tries to murder our client. Who seems to directly contradict what he wants, and owns a massive shadow corporation.

…Shit, I guess I have to be ready for bloodshed.

Beep, Beep, Beep!

Three quick beeps ring out from Noland’s pocket, and the scene through the teleporter shifts to the inside of a limousine. Ursula glances over her shoulder and beckons us to join her. Noland and I share a look and a quick nod, pick up our briefcases, and step through into a moving vehicle.

“We’re stopping in thirty seconds.” Ursula says as she passes us two brochures. “The itinerary for the night is there, and the swap for the twins is in three hours from now. If anything goes extremely wrong, I’ll be ready for Shelby to relocate me in the blink of an eye.”

“Perfect. We’ll take it from here; you just make sure the other sister doesn’t get assassinated while we’re here.” Noland grins and leans back against the white leather interior as he flips through the brochure. “Hopefully we’ll see you in three hours, no more, no less.”

“No more, no less.” Ursula repeats, then taps the teleporter with her knuckles. The scene shifts to the inside of a mansion with running water, wide-open ceilings, and a ton of exotic plants. “Scare ‘em shitless, Noland.”

He smiles coldly and pats his heart. “That’s the plan.”

Feeling like I’m definitely missing a piece of history here, I lean into my own seat so that Ursula can squeak between Noland and I to get to the teleporter. She disappears in a puff of magic, and the construct melts into molten gold that evaporates before it can drip off the seat. Finally I look up and lock eyes with the Garza twin who I’m supposed to protect for the evening–and from the way she shies away from my gaze, I know it's Dora.

“Serious question–are you two supposed to be body doubles?” I ask bluntly. “Because you both have to act the same way for that to work, right?”

Dora nods shyly. “Gisela’s personality is the public one, so I have to copy it. Don’t worry; I’ve had years of practice, so nobody will know.”

“Miss Garza, we have arrived.”

Tension races up Dora’s body like she’d just been struck by lightning. The look in her eyes shifts to confidence and power, her body language loosens yet becomes more intimidating, and her overall aura balloons in intensity. Her shy smile turns into a coy grin, and she brushes her hair behind her ear with a confidence that was definitely not there a second ago.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I shudder at the transformation as her eyes lock with mine.

“Shall we?”

The words flow from her lips in a perfect mimicry of Gisela’s tone, cadence, and confidence. For a split second, I question whether that’s actually Dora sitting across from me, and not Gisela screwing with us. But it doesn’t matter who’s sitting there, just that I keep them safe and alive.

Noland shoves his brochure into his pocket with a grunt. “Time to head out, Shelby. Read the brochure when you get a chance, and Gisela, make sure to tell us everywhere you want to go. We can’t read your mind or guess your intentions, so make all that insanely clear to us. Got it?”

For a split second, Gisela fades and Dora comes back. “Got it.”

Then it’s gone, and Gisela is all that remains. Noland nods slightly and steps out of the car first, slowly looking around for any signs of danger. When the coast is clear he motions for Gisela to come out next, who confidently moves right past me and accepts his offered hand to help her stand. Leaving little old me alone in the car for all of two seconds before I slide out to join them.

An unfamiliar landscape greets me with light winds and rustling, freakishly green grass. Everything looks like a manicured pavilion–complete with marble architecture and a few fountains. A concert hall looms off in one direction, a three-story glass and metal monstrosity of a house in another. Splashes and laughter hints at a pool somewhere behind said house, and the unmistakable clink of a golf ball being hit followed by a dull thud confirms that there’s a driving range somewhere too.

“I didn’t think this would be someone’s house.” I note cautiously, adjusting my dress as I focus on my awareness. “Do you recognize this place, Noland?”

He replies by plastering on a fake smile and waving at someone who walks by. They trail bored eyes over him, and just as they start to look away, freeze in place and snap to stare at him in fear. All the colour drains from their face in the moment it takes them to raise a walkie-talkie to their ear and press the button.

“It-it’s… h-he’s…” They start to stammer.

Noland confidently walks up to them and gently lifts their finger from the button. “Don’t go ruining the surprise now. Besides, I’m sure your boss already knows I’m here–there’s no way he doesn’t know everything that’s going on here. That would just be so shameful, wouldn’t it? And you don’t want to shame him, now do you?”

His words are pleasant and kind, but his tone is icy and venomous. The employee shudders and nods vigorously, then bolts off the moment Noland lets go of their finger. He chuckles to himself as he watches them run off towards the house.

“Always the same, always the same.” He rolls a small golden blip between his fingers, then crushes it into dust. “That either bought you safety like no other, Miss Garza, or it doomed you to be forever associated with me.”

Gisela smiles to herself and motions for Noland to lead us towards the concert. “I have survived being associated with worse.”

“No, you haven’t.” Noland laughs humorlessly and offers her his arm. “What’s the first order of business?”

She ignores his offer and slips her arm into mine instead. I shoot her a questioning glance, but from how she starts to pull, she’s already made up her mind.

“The first order of business is enjoying myself and making it known that I am here. That starts with the entertainment venue, followed by the driving range, and then finally the house. Afterwards we will stay near the fountain where people can approach us if they wish.”

Noland nods appreciatively. “Good strategy if you want to look like the kind of person who gets things brought to them, not the other way around. What about the targets for tonight?”

“That is not my problem right now.” A smile graces Gisela’s lips as she turns to face me. “In, say, three hours we’ll consider that part of the night.”

Ah, they’re not just splitting their time here–they’re splitting the responsibility, too. Dora draws in everyone that wants to bring something to them, and then Gisela comes in to deal with everyone that needs to be talked to. As long as they actually communicate with each other, that’ll save them a lot of energy.

“Then let’s head on out.” I say with a pleasant, toothless smile. “We don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

For the next hour, we escort Dora-Gisela through the entirety of the party. She moves from conversation to conversation fluidly and effortlessly, ending those that apparently aren’t going anywhere and forcibly extending the ones that she thinks are important. If I didn’t know what was going on, I wouldn’t be able to follow her conversational skills–everything would just look natural.

The concert hall, driving range, and even the pool behind the mansion all go by without a single hitch. From the conversations I overhear everyone’s varying levels of rich and important–from foreign politicians to organized crime bosses–and all of them give Gisela some level of respect. She must be more well known in the underworld than I thought.

Yet every conversation takes on a far more bladed edge when they notice Noland standing there. For some, the respect deepens to an almost religious level. Others nearly shit themselves the second he smiles at them, and they start babbling things they probably shouldn’t say just to make excuses and get away. Gisela adapts to every new response and pulls some information out of them before she covertly yanks on my arm to get us moving once more.

But now that we stand at the entrance to the mansion, doors propped wide open with security standing guard with full armor and magic blazing, something finally clicks. We haven’t seen a single member of the Preservation, HuSt, or any other pure magic organization yet. Which means they’re either in the mansion right now, or they haven’t shown up yet.

“Don’t worry. They’ll show up.” Gisela whispers as we walk into the mansion. “There’s a tension in the air that says we’re still waiting for them. But things will change the second they arrive; I can’t say for better or for worse, though.”

Before I can say anything, a portly old guy with a face like a sleazy uncle spreads his arms and walks towards us. I have to hold back a sneer as he closes in, but if it was all up to me, I would’ve caved his head in the second he got in smashing range. The guy gives off ‘important hollywood director that’s in charge of way too many young women’s careers’ energy.

“Gisela, my beautiful latina friend!” He grabs her free hand with both of his and leans down to kiss it. “You turned down all my offers to have a nice, private weekend together while we discuss the futures of our endeavors! Do you not want a fruitful partnership with someone as powerful and influential as me?”

Oh god, he’s greasier than deep fried pizza. I don’t even need to hear an introduction to know this is the guy that’s in charge of the party. He definitely seems like the kind of person who’d get off on trapping a bunch of rich and powerful people in the sky. But not to kill them–no, just because of the insinuation.

Gisela smiles kindly, but her grip on my arm tigghtens significantly. “I’m sorry, Matt, but I just can’t stand looking at you. Maybe I’ll talk to your replacement when you eventually kill yourself and someone a little more talented steps in over the smoking rubble.”

Matt’s eyes go wide at the insult, and for a brief moment, all sound in the room seems to die. My awareness makes it very clear that all eyes are on us at the moment, and I feel more than a few guns being drawn and pointed at us.

I lean in close and whisper harshly into Gisela’s ear. “Uh, ma’am, what the hell are you doing?”

Her pleasant smile sends shivers down my spine, but before she can say anything, the world starts to shake. And instead of an explanation, I get a growing evil grin and a tug on my arm to bring all of us deeper into the mansion.

“The entire place just took off.” Nolan says casually, seemingly completely unbothered by all the hostility Gisela just dumped on us. “If I had to guess, I’d say the Preservation and HuSt will be making their entrances really soon. Was it worth kicking the hornet’s nest?”

Gisela laughs lightly. “Of course it was. We can’t destroy Matt’s reputation and influence without making him look like the greasy creep that he is.”