The Crime in Callahan's Morrow - being rewritten

Chapter 17: Be careful of the witch

"Once a Battle Witch, always a Battle Witch."

-An old proverb among the witches

XVII.

The last time he'd seen Adrian it'd been a Saturday. Today was a Monday morning, presenting Giuseppe with a hoard of his minions bringing in a magnitude of requests; requests for advice, requests for help, and requests for pretty much every damn thing one can think of, which resulted in too much damn noise around him. If he weren't the boss guy, he would've murdered them all. Because why the heck had anyone considered it smart to wake up a vampire at the beginning of his daily sleep?

The whole banality of the main problem ailing his followers was quite ridiculous, in fact. His fourth in command and the resident quartermaster, Tina, had thought it was beyond rude not to attend the newly crowned Lord of Astoria's Introduction Ball. And she'd fucking decided to make Giuseppe write a reply letter to confirm he would attend. He'd decided to be a little shit and sent an e-mail. They could all choke on their precious paper letters for all he cared; World Networking made his life easier.

"Roberto! I need a suitcase filled with three days' worth of clothes," he hollered through the main house. "I'm leaving in 15 minutes."

Felling an affirmative flare of magic from Roberto, Giuseppe rose from the desk and slid into the master bedroom.

The bed was still rumpled, and a pale blue comforter was hanging off, halfway on the carpeted floor just like as he'd left it. He let no one enter his room. This was his secret place, his sanctuary, and no one was permitted to trespass. Not even to clean.

He walked to a fitted closet to search for a suit. Roberto would pack the all-use clothes stored in one of the storage rooms. The only thing Giuseppe needed was a fancy suit. He kept things he himself bought in his bedroom. The rest was acquired by his... he could call them servants because they were paid to be exactly that.

Something gray, he thought as he browsed through, passing colorful fabrics. Gray for this party. He wasn't the main attraction and should dress to showcase that. His eyes settled on one of the pieces he'd never worn. The fabric was soft and pliant under his fingertips. This will do.

A smirk broke over his face. The invitation said plus one was permitted. He just needed his intended plus one to agree with his scheme.

***

Adrian hauled himself up and off the couch once he heard three repetitive and loud knocks on the door.

He had no idea who would come to his place. He'd never gave his address out to anyone and, beyond his e-mail address and phone number, his official record was sealed.

He carefully maneuvered from the living room into the hallway, grabbing his gun from the cabinet on the way. One could never be too careful. Plus, his team currently worked on a high-profile case.

He frowned, thinking how it just didn't make any sense. If someone wanted to get rid of him, they wouldn't have announced it just like that. Right?

Another three impatient knocks didn't really startle him, instead set off the annoyance with whoever stood behind the door. He stepped closer, his feet light on the parquet.

He heard him just as he smelt him.

"Adrian, come on, man, open the door."

What the hell was Giuseppe doing here? While he's on that topic, how did Giuseppe know where he lived?

Adrian unbolted the latch, opened the door a little, and shoved a gun barrel through the crack. "Go the fuck away."