Page 41 of Two Who Live On

With the number of victims so low, Milo figured the demon might be traveling through the portals, killing in different cities across the world while maintaining a low profile. He ground his teeth, annoyed La Maison de l’Infini had such lax protections against demonic energy. When someone met his gaze, he instinctively forced his tense frown into a chipper grin. It didn’t matter if the demon hunted in other areas. It came to Chicago’s port to kill, and he’d find it here.

Besides, he lacked the jurisdiction necessary to investigate through the portals, which would require more permits and too much time. Time that’d leave more bodies. Bodies Milo didn’t want to carry guilt for, so he pressed ahead, exploring the fighting pits.

The crowd cheered. Gambling of all kinds occurred atLa Maison de l’Infini, but nothing reeled in an audience quite as much as their fighting pit. Powerful and flashy magics were used to eviscerate opponents. A blood sport everyone at the cages delighted in, and something Milo suspected helped lure the demon. Based on Melody’s branch and the state of her corpse, he suspected the woman partook in these events. She had many older healed-over injuries that showed a history of combat, much like several of the other victims.

In the ring, a woman levitated above a man twice her size, grabbing his shoulders and flipping behind him. When her foot made contact, she channeled telekinesis which threw him into the chain-linked fence. Milo was pleased Acolyte Novak had arrived and entered the competition per his instructions. She looked nothing like her brother, Jamie. Either they didn’t favor any features, or she used a glamour enchantment, too. Though where she hid it, I couldn’t tell.

She had short black hair, barely reaching the nape of her neck, and wore no visible jewelry, unlike Milo, who’d flaunted enough to make him worth pickpocketing—something he suspected would make his task of glimpsing futures a bit simpler since some folks would stroll right up to him, seeking an easy mark. Acolyte Novak wore a black tank and tight matching sweats. Her arms were covered by sleeve tattoos, which Milo noticed had changed from the ones in her file pictures. He’d have preferred she used a glamour that covered them instead of altering them. And there it was. She had a tattooed enchantment tucked somewhere in one of her arm sleeves, making no one the wiser she’d changed her appearance.

The man who Novak had thrown against the chain-link fence turned, roaring at her. The arena rumbled, and his echoed voice carried terrible screeches that ripped the flooring apart. Milo winced at the piercing sound, which clearly packed a powerful punch if the audience members were affected. Novak used her telekinesis and levitation to easily evade the echoed strikes.

“Didn’t pick you to show off, Lena.” Milo tsked, crossing his arms. “Well, not your roots, anyway.”

Lena dragged out the fight, toying with her opponent. It didn’t matter how much time witches and warlocks spent fighting in pits like these for entertainment—an industry witch always held the finest training to maintain their stamina and casting endurance. Clearly aggravated, the man belted out an outrageous sound burst. The entirearena vibrated, rattling the fence and breaking wards in place to nullify the fighters’ magics from spilling into the crowd. In that instance, Lena twirled round and round in the air, unleashing bubbles from her palms and silencing the attack. Each tiny bubble popped when hitting a vibration and dulling the shrieking roar.

There it was. The powerful arcane branch Milo wanted the acolyte to flaunt in the fight. Every victim had possessed an arcane branch or no registered branch at all. It was possible some of the victims were branchless, but considering demons sought powerful quarry to whet their appetites, Milo suspected the unlicensed victims simply never disclosed their branch with the state, likely avoiding any tax penalties an arcane branch would incur. Arcane branches were among the most coveted branches due to the fact they usually acted as a unique merger of two or more different branches creating something mysterious.

A flurry of bubbles popped in quick succession, clearing a path for Lena, who easily soared at the man she fought. Much like her brother, Jamie, her arcane branch mixed with the primal water element. Unlike Jamie’s whirlpool, which used water and warp portal traveling, her bubble burst magic seemed to distort or destroy magic the bubbled water encountered.

Lena closed the distance between herself and her opponent, swinging a fist, unafraid of his much more muscular arm barreling to counter her. Each of them swelled with telekinesis channeled into their knuckles. When they collided, bubbles released from Lena’s wrist, eating away at the telekinetic burst both had created, yet a few popped along the man’s arms. A caustic strike,which made him wince, and his muscles waned. Unable to maintain his stance, Lena easily overpowered him and knocked him directly to the ground.

Clearly, her bubble burst affected more than magics. It seemed to weaken anything and everything it came into contact with, including her own root magics. A powerful yet dangerous branch. All Enchanter Evergreen focused on was if it’d be enough to entice a demon for the evening. He didn’t expect much luck but kept a close eye on the crowd, glimpsing snippets of their potentials and immediately crossing them off his suspect list.

Demons possessed heightened resistance to magic which was what made me so uncomfortable with Milo taking this case. Any case involving demons. Their resistance made it nearly impossible for him to predict outcomes. However, he believed if he encountered one directly, his clairvoyance would have a better chance of interacting, deciphering.

After observing everyone he could, he stepped away, allowing the crowd to cheer on Lena for an encore. At the entrance, a young woman frantically made her way inside, adjusting her skirt and wobbling in the heels she had no coordination in. Milo regretted whoever picked out Acolyte Reed’s undercover outfit because her frazzled expression and ungraceful strut drew more attention than the role he’d intended for her this evening.

Milo swaggered toward her, popping his collar and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Hey, darling. How about I get you a drink?”

Acolyte Reed reached into her purse. “If you don’t get your arm off—”

“Go with it, Ellie. You’re already late enough for this assignment.” Milo stared into her hazel eyes, expression stern before shifting to something carefree and aloof. “Come on, sweetheart. One drink. On me.”

“Okay,” Ellie said, playing the part before lowering her voice. “I didn’t mean to be late. My shift ran longer than expected, and traffic was hell, and then I needed to talk with Specialist Williams to get suited up, or in this case, suited down.”

Milo released his arm when they reached the bar and ordered drinks. “Second time I’ve given you a case and you fell short.”

“I’m sorry, Ench—” She bit her bottom lip, almost announcing to everyone who he was.

“Carl,” Milo playfully dragged out each letter of the name and shook Ellie’s hand.

I shook my head or perhaps simply rolled over in my sleep. It felt a lot like head shaking with the judgment I barreled at each of them. Milo should’ve picked enchanters, not acolytes. And this acolyte should’ve prioritized the case file he’d passed along to her earlier that day. I empathized with Ellie. She clearly had to work another job to get by financially since acolytes weren’t paid for their guild work. Something that didn’t affect Lena Novak, who’d arrived before Milo and inserted herself withinLa Maison de l’Infini, but for industry professionals like Ellie, who didn’t come from a family with the financial resources to support her during the years of unpaid acolyte service, it was difficult.

Part of why the change in education wouldn’t help shift the industry. Sure, academies had opened their doors to help aspiring students obtain licenses, but how many of those newly licensed students would have to give up their industry dreams because they couldn’t afford years of unpaid labor? How many would have their license suspended because they couldn’t maintain the cost of keeping it active without a steady income in a casting field?

I buried my resentment for a broken system and observed Milo and Ellie. They discreetly chatted—each occasionally blurted something random or obnoxious if eyes fell their way—and Milo informed Ellie to keep a close eye on those watching Lena.

“Your branch is perfect for subtly sussing out threats.” Milo finished his drink and walked off.

Hours passed. Milo and Ellie worked throughout different parts of the club, him observing the crowd from a roulette table, where he continued blowing his money on bad guesses.

“All on red.” He rubbed his palms together. “Feeling lucky this time.”

He wasn’t. But he didn’t need to draw the ire of the owners by cleaning them out. Unlike state or federally-regulated gambling, Milo found it easier to loop his clairvoyance on the odds here. No publicly endorsed betting allowed for casting influence, which Milo had learned every time he bought a lottery ticket in his youth. Still, the enchantments liningLa Maison de l’Infini were potent, and if he wasn’t careful, they’d notice him using his branch to intentionally lose. He figured they were less likely to question someone going into an evening of debt than someone cleaning out the casino. It allowed him to fluctuate his clairvoyance on other guests between losses.

Having observed nearly every person here, Milo hadn’t found one individual eyeing Lena during her fights that he couldn’t easily read potential futures on. When the matches ended for the night, the crowd thinned some, but Milo stayed. As instructed, Lena went to the bar for a post-celebration round of drinks, keeping company with anyone willing to talk to her. None of them were more than human based on the easy predictions Milo managed. A lot of them were overly flirty, though, and Lena’s strained smile suggested she bit back aggravated responses.

Finally, Milo’s eyes locked onto a woman who cut through the chatty onlookers accompanying Lena, taking a seat beside the young acolyte. Not a single person objected to her interjecting. In fact, after a few words from her out of earshot and a delicate hand on each of their arms, everyone left. All that remained was Lena, still slick withsweat from her fights, and the woman in a white dress covered in gold and magenta flowers. Milo fixated on the woman talking to his acolyte, the energy around her vibrated, and he couldn’t glean anything about her future. In fact, Lena’s became murky when he glanced in her direction.

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