“I’m almost tempted to not tell you,” he says, irritation creeping into his voice. “You’ll find out eventually, anyway. But that would be cruel. The European branch of the Werther family is upset at what you did to Attila, and they— What exactly did you do to Attila, anyway?”

“I moved him, his car, and his chauffeur over the line into limbo and left him there. He’s smart. If he’s not out by now he will be soon. Let me guess, everybody’s saying I killed him, too?”

“They are. In fact, the family has put a bounty on you. Anyone who does the deed and brings proof in the form of your head gets, and I quote, ‘The full backing and support of the Werther Clan as an adopted relative.’”

Shit. Mages don’t need money. We want cash, we magic a few ATMs, manipulate some stock trades, whatever. If you want mages to take something on, you offer up something better than cash. Usually it’s some mystic heirloom, a spellbook, whatever.

But this is a whole other level. They’re essentially telling everyone that whoever brings in my head gets the family name, the contacts, access to their resources. If they’re willing to let some schmuck off the street into their family just because he walks in with my head in a bowling bag, they really want me dead. If people weren’t lining up to kill me before, they sure as hell are now.

Considering what everyone thinks I’ve done, it might not be a stretch that some people are going to think I’ve managed to kill Werther. Anybody with their head out of their ass should know I’m not in his league. He’s so far above me in ability that all I can see is his shining ass wiggling down from the top of the ladder for people to climb up and kiss it.

“Fantastic. So Werther’s family has put a hit out on me. Until that file gets out and everyone sees it, I’m walking around with a target on my back.” Provided they even care. I may not have killed those other mages, but I did send Werther over to the other side.

“That would be the size of it.”

“I’ll head over. Provided nobody tries to kill me, I should be there in an hour or so.”

“So, we’ll say two, maybe three hours, then?”

“Funny. And fuck you.” I hang up the phone.