Remember The Past's Demons

Remember the Past's Demons 5

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Markus rolled his eyes, well used to the Master's flair for the dramatic, glad that he had thought to pull his hood up. "It means just that. It means that you found the one student who follows the damn rules and wipes his search off of the reel catalogue. And not even I can get to it," he snapped. "And I've already asked Maria if she would do me a favor. She told me that only the head of the department's have access to any kind of records once they're wiped. She isn't going to sleep with the ass to get them for me either," he said.

The Master snapped his mouth shut and scowled at the other man. "So what can you do? Much less know?" he asked.

Hell pulled out a small flip notebook and opened it to the page with the information. "Richard. Smart. Age is twenty, almost twenty-ne and about to finish his undergraduate work. Flipped his first house with his parent's help at seventeen and is flipping not only the house he is currently living in but another that is set for renting. All of this can be found on his twitter, facebook, Instagram, personal site and his youtube channel."

"So he has some business knowledge?" the Master asked. He got a nod "Is there anything in his past that we can use if it came to it?"

"For a short time he did have a stalker."

The Master took on a thoughtful look. "Could we tell the stalker where to find him?"

"Only if we want him to become a songbird." He rolled his eyes under his hood at the scowl he got. "The guy has a weak will from what I know. You squeeze just right and he'll give it all up."

"So he's basically useless. Please continue."

"Leon. He went in half with Richard for the house while they're doing school. Is somewhat a trust fund baby from his grandmother and only got access to it this year. Going into mythological history and accounting, odd as that sounds. Parents ran the bakery Baking Vampires, kids are now running it mostly. He works at one of the stores as the manager slash accountant and any profit goes into his trust fund." Markus flipped a page. "He and his siblings met once a month to discuss how things are going, sign paperwork, and brainstorm for future events. Can't use the bakery because they now have six stores in three cities and are looking at two stores outside of the state."

"Who are these kids?" the Master huffed. "Renovators and partial business owners? Geeze."

"From what I can find out, they're well educated kids." Markus grunted. "I do know that they won't let the house go just because, to them, it's an investment. Maril didn't keep up the house to snuff when he got older, and the last set of owners were fast to seal off the doors and room. I say that we should let them finish off the house and then we can get rid of them. I can then easily buy it off of the bank when it comes up and we can continue with our plans after the ceremony."

The Master paced a bit, thinking over that before he nodded. He shoved a curl of brown hair back under his own hood. "Yes, this is a good plan. Have Jac get in with them somehow. I want detailed information on where they are in the rebuilding and what they're doing. They've already had the house for a good two months."

"Yes, sir." Watching Markus bow and leave, the Master turned to the book that sat innocently on a bookshelf, displayed like so many other books. His family had taken cared of it for generations and worked to the moment that they were fast coming up to. They had made deals and done things that would have curdled those who saw in from the outside blood.

Reaching out, he stroked over the cover, feeling the supple softness with a smirk. "Soon, my Lord and Master, soon it shall happen and you shall have a proper body to sow your seeds around the world."

A purr came from him, making him want to turn and see the body his Lord was in but he didn't, knowing that it would cause him to be punished. "Very good, little Master. You are doing what your father could not do and it pleases me. I must leave you now. There are things that must be done," the being stated. Padding footsteps disappeared from the room and out of the house, leaving the young Master alone.

Stroking the book made with his ancestors skin that was still as soft and smooth as the day it had been ripped from her body by their Lord. "Soon."