"I have no intention of taking her on alone," Megan said, crushing out her cigarette. "I hit her with a
compulsion spell and she just shrugged it off like it was nothing. That really shook me up. I'm not taking
any chances. When I go to take her down, I'm taking all the backup I can get."
"I have no intention of taking her on alone," Megan said, crushing out her cigarette. "I hit her with a
compulsion spell and she just shrugged it off like it was nothing. That really shook me up. I'm not taking
any chances. When I go to take her down, I'm taking all the backup I can get."
"Hello," said Wulfgar. "Is Professor Paul Ramirez there?"
"Professor Ramirez is out at the moment. This is his secretary. May I take a message?"
"Well, perhaps you can help me," Wulfgar said. "This is A-1 Plumbing calling. We received a call from
Professor Ramirez late last night on our message tape. Apparently, he's got some trouble with his water
pipes and it sounded rather urgent. He requested an emergency service call first thing in the morning. He
said he'd either be at the Bureau of Thaumaturgy office or at home, but there'd be someone at the house
to let us in. Only someone in the office forgot to rewind the tape and it ran out before he could complete
his message, so we didn't get his address. If you could give that to me, I could dispatch one of our
service trucks right away."
"Oh, certainly," the secretary said. "He's at 2535 Declovina Street."
"Would that be a house or an apartment?"
"It's a private home."
"Okay. Let me make sure I have that right. That's 2535 Declovina?"
"Correct."
"Okay, we'll send a truck out right away. Thanks."
"You're perfectly welcome."
Wulfgar hung up the phone and smiled. He stepped away from the phone stall on the outside wall of the
Quikmart and walked back toward the truck. He was dressed in a set of olive-green coveralls with the
legend "A-1 Plumbing" printed across the back and the name "Chuck" embroidered over the breast
pocket. The panel truck also had the legend "A-1 Plumbing" painted on its sides. He opened the door
and stepped inside. The driver's compartment was open to the back of the truck, which was lined with
shelving containing various tools and plumbing supplies. On the floor of the truck bed, lying in a pool of
blood, was the body of the plumber named Chuck, dressed only in his underwear, the T-shirt torn away
to reveal bloody runes carved into the torso.
Wulfgar got behind the wheel, turned the key that switched on the vehicle's thaumaturgic battery, shifted
into gear, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for Declovina Street.
It was all Paul could do to stay awake. It was almost ten-thirty in the morning and he still hadn't gotten
any sleep. He parked his car in the driveway, turned off the key, and leaned back against the seat for a