Free A Knight of the Sacred Blade by Jonathan Moeller Page A

some sleep. Good night, Markham.” 
    “Good night, sir,” said Markham. “Oh, one other thing. Some reporter showed up right before you returned. Claims you promised her an exclusive interview. I tried to send her off, but…”
    “It’s all right,” said Wycliffe. “I did promise to grant her a very exclusive interview. Send her to my office.”
    Markham smiled knowingly. “Ah…one of those. Thought so. She is a pretty little thing. Though if you’ll forgive my bluntness, I suggest you be careful. A scandal could derail things just now.”
    Wycliffe grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve had some practice cleaning up after myself by now.”
    Markham laughed and walked to the intercom. Wycliffe set out for his office, Goth following.
    “I hunger.” Goth’s growl dug into Wycliffe’s ears like a knife.
    Wycliffe glanced over his shoulder. “You can rejoin your kin in 13A. There’s food there…at least the sort of food your kind prefers.”
    Goth’s lips peeled back from his fangs. “I hunger for the woman. I prefer fresh meat.”
    Wycliffe rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to make trouble for me? Having her disappear could cause complications.”
    Goth didn’t say anything. A bit of red glare gleamed from behind his sunglasses. “Fine. Fine! I will instruct her to drive to that abandoned parking lot fifteen blocks west of here in five days. You should know the place very well by now. She will sit and wait for you. Satisfied?”
    “Very well,” said Goth. He turned and departed, his leather jacket creaking with his stride.
    Wycliffe scowled and headed for his office. Some days he wished Marugon had never left him with Goth and the winged demons. True, they were useful, and could eliminate opponents with remarkable celerity. Yet they liked to satisfy their appetites,  and they often made a tremendous mess doing so. Wycliffe suspected that a large percentage of Chicago’s unsolved murders in the last year could be traced back to Goth and his kin.
    And even after all these years, the winged demons still made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. They were like rabid wolves. If he didn’t have the black magic to keep them at bay, Wycliffe knew they would turn on him and devour him. 
    A woman waited outside his office door.
    He smiled. “Miss Louis. I’m so pleased that you could make it.” She stood by his office door, iPad and notepad in hand.  
    Miss Louis smiled. “I almost didn’t. Your security men are…very thorough.”
    Wycliffe unlocked the office door. “They are, aren’t they? I admit, the whole Hell’s Angels look almost threw me. But they’re very…effective and very professional.” He opened the door and flipped the light switch. “Please make yourself comfortable.” 
    Miss Louis strode into his office. Wycliffe watched her and smiled. The winged demons were not the only ones with appetites. He had been busy the last year, and he hadn’t indulged himself for a long time. 
    He locked the door behind him and settled in his office chair.
    “Well,” said Miss Louis, opening the voice recorder app on her iPad. “We might as well get started…”
    “Oh, don’t bother,” said Wycliffe. “You won’t need to record anything”
    Miss Louis blinked. A nervous smile tugged at her lips. “Why…why not?” 
    “Because I will dictate each and every word in the interview,” said Wycliffe. 
    Miss Louis laughed. “My memory isn’t that good.”
    “You’ll have some help,” said Wycliffe. “But first, I want to relax. Take off all your clothes and come over here.”
    Miss Louis’s eyebrows knitted in a scowling frown. “What the hell?”
    Wycliffe offered her his best smile. “Oh, come now. You surely must find me attractive. Take off your clothes and come to me.”
    Miss Louis stood, glaring. “That whole thing about the interview was bullshit, isn’t it? This is a seduction. And a bad one, I might add. Most guys have the class to buy me a drink and flowers