Page 77 of The Syphon King

The Marsh Kings were now arriving in waves, bearing their side of the updates. This time the celebrations would take place at their facilities and all the school was invited—at the Belle Eveque’s adamant insistence. She was now a celebrity among their students and faculty.

“Where is Zodak?” Skull asked.

“With Zen,” Nidev said. “He asked to be excused.”

“Is there a problem?” Vex wondered.

Nidev’s sigh wasn’t a good sign. “Nothing urgent. Dr. Ubaldo is waiting for a call back from the Quantum King.”

Vex considered calling Jolynn to see if she was still bringing Rosavelt to the evening festivities after. She’d made quite a few friends her age, all very brilliant children that were perfect influences for her and her, them. It had been an odd two months following the bite debacle. He’d forbidden himself to see either of them until he was certain all bat strains had left his system. A whole week later, he took a chance only to learn they’d hidden like a dormant lust fiend. He’d gone from pushing her out of his thoughts, to finding reasons to call her to fantasizing what might have happened had he acted on any of the sexual impulses that had possessed him. And since that latter obsession never left, he was getting mildly concerned with encountering her that evening. Especially since she’d made it abundantly clear in their passing conversations that she’d decided it was time to move on and live again, which meant being open to dating. A major problem given he was no less obsessed with keepingher to himself than he had been the night he’d claimed her while out of his mind.

Just how he’d managed to finish off that dreadful night was some sort of miracle. But the most important things had been accomplished. He hadn’t raped her or killed a brother and the revealing of little Rosavelt’s paintings saved the entire night. Vex had been elated to find what he’d hoped. The abstract expressions held depths no child could possibly fathom and yet she did, and with cheap acrylics on second-hand canvases no less. Her mother had no idea how truly gifted she was. He’d purchased four of them at ten thousand dollars apiece. A ridiculous steal, he’d assured them.

“I hear theirbat-tiesare a blast,” Thakx said, getting Vex’s attention.

“I recall mention of this in the tour,” Nidev marveled. “They have actual grounds where they perform this.”

“And all go to watch,” Skul nodded. “A charming little backwoods Roman Colosseum.”

“What is this, Bat-tie?” Dr. David wondered now.

“A Cajun term for a friendly fight. To settle civil disputes.”

“Really,” the Dr. mused, his soft brown eyes filling with equal portions ofinterest and mild disgust, tempting Vex to laugh.

“I’ll need to check my email for my Nouvelle,” Skul said.

“Nouvelle.” Nidev regarded him. “I don’t recall that one.”

“Their little monthly newspaper they nail to a tree in each hatch. I got my Marsh Mate to take a pic and send it to me so I can remain up to date with the Southern Swamp’s comings and goings as he calls it.”

“Who’s your mate again?” Vael asked.

“The Giga-Chad,” Skul bragged.

“Lucky bastard,” Dalk muttered. “I have the one in love with all things firearm related.”

“Surely he who entangles himself in ropes is by far the miracle of our Marsh Kings.”

Vex chuckled at Kael. “I hear his wife is the greatest trap he’s ever set.”

“And stepped in,” Feral marveled. “Deliberately. Fate was fuckingfurious. That’s what my Marsh Mate said. Spar.”

“He would know,” Nidev remembered, eyeing all of them. “I’m not altogether sure what these grins on your faces mean but let it be well established there will benofoolery regarding matters of such magnitude among the Creole Kings.”

“IfeverI were to suffer such a fatal glitch, these Marsh brothers have learned my lesson for me,” Feral assured.

“And I,” Thakx said. “I’ll take facts and algorithms any day over that.”

“It’s how my 8-Bit Mate picked his,” Skul said. “And as far as I can see, a match made in the heavens.”

“There you have it,” Thakx proved.

When the final Marsh King took their seat, Nidev stood and gave his laborious welcome speech. The labor was purely on the receiving end of the King’s love forwordsat every turn in an event. To him speech was a key that could unlock the dormant abilities he believed resided in all humans, making them capable of accomplishing anything. He also thought they had the power tocreategifted people. Like a man mining gold, he cast his carefully crafted word nets, hoping to unearth a gifted yield. He couldn’t fault him for the passion, but it had its thorns. And only those who were already unlocked suffered their pricks. For Vex, less was best and to Nidev, more was a door.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Dr. Harlow, is that you?”