Chapter 8
481 Words
Chapter 8
The next morning William Claude joined Michael for breakfast.
“I’ve been thinking,” William Claude said. “The Chinese pearl that attracts demons must be a very dangerous thing to own.”
“If such a thing existed.”
“I’m sure there are forces that want the pearl,” William Claude continued. “Perhaps demonic forces. I’ve already lost one son to this madness. I don’t want to lose another.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” Michael’s voice was flat as he leaned back in the chair and folded his arms.
“I do care about you, boy! I suggest you bring the pearl to Wintersgate. It will be safe here. I have top-of-the-line security.”
Michael understood exactly what William Claude most cared about. “The pearl isn’t what you think it is.”
William Claude’s jowls worked as he tried to control his irritation. “What if something were to happen to you? Someone else should know how to locate it.”
“No one else needs to know.”
“Don’t you have an assistant, some Chinese whiz kid, who’s supposed to know everything? He must know how to find it.”
“He doesn’t,” Michael said firmly.
His father studied him to see if he was lying. Michael did all he could to keep steady eye contact and not give away anything that might endanger Jianjun. William Claude, he knew, could be a dangerous man.
William Claude decided to try reason. “From my research, I’ve heard it said that the pearl is one of the strongest philosopher’s stones the world has ever known. With it, I might develop a means to immortality. I don’t want to die. And you won’t either when you reach my age. Together, with my knowledge of alchemical formulas and your innate oneness, your gift and affinity for all things alchemical, we’ll be able to do it.”
“Your quest for immortality is unnatural and wrong,” Michael said. “You know it is, and so do I.”
William Claude reached out and placed his hand on Michael’s forearm. This time, instead of feeling cold, the hand emitted heat and raw power.
“Think well, boy.” William Claude said. His hand grew hot on Michael’s arm as his fingers tightened. “Think about how much you don’t want to disappoint me. You’ve never really wanted to disappoint me. You’ve always wanted to please, to have me look on you with favor, to have me care about you as much as I did Lionel. This, Michael, this will give you what you’ve always wanted from me.”
Michael yanked his arm free.
William Claude stormed into his laboratory. He was sick and tired of the obstinacy of his son. Did Michael really think he was that stupid?
He made a phone call. “It’s me. Tell them they’ve got to step up the action. It’s not working yet. Time to push – a lot. It’s got to be bad. Something no one can ignore.”
The excuses he was hearing only made him angrier. “If they can’t do it, I’ll find someone who can! They have one more week.”
He hung up, fuming.
After he calmed down a bit, he thought of a way he might help his own cause.
Time to step up his own side of things.
He smiled. After all, God wasn’t the only one who helped those who help themselves…
- Writer
