Balance of Power: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 25) Read online

  Balance of Power

  Alastair Stone Chronicles: Book Twenty-Five

  R. L. King

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Don’t miss Alastair Stone’s next adventure!

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  Books by R. L. King

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2021 by R. L. King

  Balance of Power: Alastair Stone Chronicles Book Twenty-Five

  First Edition, March 2021

  Edited by John Helfers

  Cover Art and Design by Gene Mollica Studio

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people, except by agreement with the vendor of the book. If you would like to share this book with another person, please use the proper avenues. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  1

  “I can’t say how good it is to have you all here, together in one place.”

  Alastair Stone smiled. He couldn’t remember seeing Aubrey this happy in a long time. He leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze travel over the massive bounty of food weighing down the dining-room table. “I see what you’re up to, Aubrey: you’re so pleased to have us here, you’re planning to stuff us so full we won’t ever be able to leave.”

  “Oh, dear, you’ve found me out, sir.” The old caretaker’s eyes glittered with merriment, his craggy, tanned face split into a wide smile. “But best get started, while everything’s still hot. And you must blame Ms. Thayer, Ian, and Susan for some of the abundance. This was far more than I could have managed on my own.”

  “You heard the man,” Stone said. “Let’s get to it.”

  As the dishes were passed along and everyone loaded their plates with the components of a traditional British Christmas dinner, including turkey and stuffing, roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, Yorkshire pudding, cranberry sauce, and vegetables, Stone redirected his attention from the food to the company. He wondered how long it had been since this many people had sat at the long, antique dining table—quite possibly it had been during his father’s lifetime, unless Aubrey had been hosting dinner parties while he was away.

  The caretaker had insisted Stone sit at the head of the table as the house’s master, but everyone else had sorted themselves out mostly randomly. Ian sat on Stone’s right, with Verity to his left. Jason and Amber rounded out Verity’s side, with Aubrey and his lady friend Susan Fletcher on Ian’s. Selby had been invited too, of course, but had graciously declined since he had plans to visit family.

  All day, the house had been full of warmth and delightful aromas. At first, Aubrey had protested Ian’s and Verity’s offer to help with the food preparation, insisting they should be enjoying themselves, but both had assured him they liked cooking and would be happy to assist. Stone, meanwhile, had made himself scarce (knowing Aubrey wouldn’t want him anywhere near the kitchen) to meet Jason and Amber at A Passage to India so he could bring them through the portal to Surrey late that afternoon.

  “You’ve done a beautiful job decorating the place, Aubrey,” Stone said. “I’m not sure I want to ask how you got that tree in here.” The Christmas tree in the main hall stood nearly fifteen feet high, and was decorated all the way to the top with tinsel, twinkling lights, and colorful ornaments.

  “Don’t worry, sir. I had a lot of help. I hired some lads from the village to bring it in, and Selby took care of any decorating that required a ladder.”

  “Good man.” Over the last few months, Stone had gotten good at sneaking looks at Aubrey when the old man wasn’t looking, and he had to admit he’d seen no increase—either physically or aurically—in any symptoms indicating his early-stage Parkinson’s was getting any worse. Either he was diligently following his doctor’s advice on his own, or Susan was encouraging him to do it.

  Stone had kept his promise to himself, visiting Aubrey at least once a week since September. He’d sometimes felt guilty he didn’t show up more often, but both he and Aubrey had quickly fallen into an equilibrium with visits frequent enough so they could catch up regularly, but not so frequent as to disturb both men’s preference for solitude. That, and now that Aubrey and Susan seemed to have developed an enduring relationship, the caretaker was rarely lonely. The situation had worked out well for both him and Stone. Stone’s only slight concern was to wonder what Susan might make of his frequent visits, since she knew he lived and worked in California, but she never inquired. Either she wasn’t naturally nosy, or Aubrey had told her something to stave off suspicion.

  “You guys outdid yourselves,” Jason said after swallowing an oversized mouthful of turkey. He looked fondly at Amber. “I guess we’re gonna have to start learning how to do stuff like this at some point. Once we have kids, we should have some kind of holiday tradition of our own.”

  Amber chuckled. “Don’t worry, O Skeptical Hubby. Maybe I can’t cook a turkey like this, but Jonah can. And my brothers’ families put out a spread that, quantity-wise, makes this look like a light snack. You’d think they were part bulldozer, the way they plow through food.”

  Stone glanced at Susan, the only one at the table who had no idea about the supernatural nature of most of the evening’s guests, but she merely laughed.

  “Yes, young men are like that, aren’t they?” she said. “My grandsons are the same way. Sometimes it’s impossible to keep the refrigerator stocked when they and their friends are around.”

  Stone, Verity, Ian, Jason, and Amber all exchanged discreet glances, and kept the conversation fully mundane for the rest of the meal. They passed around anecdotes about Jason and Amber’s home-renovation project, Verity’s life in San Francisco, Ian’s travels, and Stone’s work at the University, and before long they’d worked their way
through not only the main course, but the pies Aubrey had baked for dessert and a round of after-dinner drinks.

  “Bloody hell,” Stone said with a contented sigh, slumping back in his chair. “I didn’t think I could eat that much. I’ll have to run several laps around the village to work all that off.”

  “No kidding.” Jason patted his trim belly. “I see some heavy gym time in my future.”

  “Can we help you with the dishes, Aubrey?” Amber asked. “Only fair, since you did the cooking.”

  “Oh, my, no.” Aubrey waved her off. “You all go out in the main hall and enjoy the decorations. I’ll just rinse everything off and pop it in the dishwasher.”

  “Are you sure?” Verity asked.

  “Let him,” Stone said. “He’s looking for an excuse to run off and be alone with Susan for a while, so let’s not bollix up his plans.”

  “Sir, of course I’m not—”

  “Oh, you are.” Stone rose from the table. “And I don’t blame you one bit. This lot can be a bit much to take all at once. Come on, everyone—let’s carry all this out to the kitchen and make ourselves scarce for a while, shall we?”

  In less than five minutes, the group had cleared the table and moved all the dishes to the kitchen. After another assurance from Aubrey that he didn’t need help—along with a sly look from Susan as she remained behind with him—the rest of the group adjourned to the main hall with their after-dinner drinks and took seats around the massive fireplace.

  “Well,” Stone said. “It has been an interesting year.”

  “You have a way with understatement,” Verity said, grinning. Then she sobered. “Some good things—like Jason and Amber getting married. But some bad stuff, too.”

  “And some things that are sort of both,” Jason said. “Like finding out V’s got two other half-siblings. I’m still getting used to that.”

  “Have you met them yet?” Ian asked.

  “Not yet. V’s been down there a couple times, but…” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I guess the time doesn’t seem right yet. I’m sure it will, next year.”

  “Yeah,” Verity said. “I guess there’s no rush.” She glanced at Stone. “You’ve had a pretty quiet quarter, haven’t you? We’ve all been so busy with work and stuff, we’ve barely had a chance to see each other. How are you coping with all this calm?”

  “Just fine, thank you.” She was right: after the whole business with the dragons, followed by dealing with the ghouls and Richter and the shocking realization that James Brathwaite’s echo was not only still alive, but had taken up residence in his female descendant and was continuing his necromantic activities, Stone had just about given up on the idea of any lulls in his breakneck life.

  But to his surprise, the fall quarter had flown by without notable incident, at least in the supernatural sphere. He’d asked Kolinsky to keep an eye out for any signs of Brathwaite or Richter resurfacing, but neither had. The latter didn’t seem odd, since he was fairly sure the failed ritual had killed Elias Richter, but Brathwaite was almost certainly still out there somewhere. Whether he’d taken over the Ordo Purpuratus was another question Stone had no current way to answer. He sometimes felt a bit guilty for not pursuing the issue with more effort, especially since the necromancer had a lot to answer for, but as long as Brathwaite stayed out of his way and didn’t cause trouble, he’d decided a few months wouldn’t make a big difference.

  “How’s Brandon Greene working out?” Verity lounged back in her chair, finished her drink, and used magic to levitate the glass onto the table.

  “Oh, brilliantly. Couldn’t be more pleased—and neither can Hubbard. He’s already using his new free time to work on his latest book.”

  “Who’s Brandon Greene?” Amber asked. She sat snuggled against Jason, her head on his shoulder.

  “One of my most promising graduate students—not to mention my former cat-sitter. He finally completed his Master’s last year, and he’s taken on a position as an acting instructor in the Occult Studies department. It’s only for a year, but he can handle a couple of the undergraduate courses and take some of the pressure off Hubbard and me.”

  “Hopefully they’ll find somebody full-time by then,” Verity said. “Are they stepping up the search?”

  “They are. I’ve even agreed to do a bit of traveling to scout potential candidates and see if I can persuade someone to relocate.” He shrugged. “I think Martinez has it in her head that I’m planning to retire.”

  “Any reason for that?” Jason slipped his arm around Amber and pulled her closer. “Are you?”

  “Damned if I know. I love teaching, and if the quarters stay as calm as the last one I can certainly continue to fit it in. I’m only there two days a week now anyway. I’d feel guilty about leaving them up a tree if I left.” He leaned back and put his feet on the table. “But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t considered it.”

  “Not like you need the money,” Verity said with a grin.

  “I didn’t need the money when I started. It’s never been about the money.”

  “You just want more time to chase magical mysteries.” Ian’s grin was even bigger than Verity’s. “You’re jealous of all the time I spend traveling around the world, and now you want to do it too.”

  Stone shot him a mock glare. “You might be right about the mysteries. But as for gallivanting around the world living the playboy lifestyle…not really my thing.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. I keep forgetting, you’re just an old fuddy-duddy dad, lounging on the couch in Bermuda shorts and black socks with sandals, watching ESPN and drinking Budweiser.”

  Jason, Amber, and Verity all laughed.

  “Oi,” Stone said irritably, shaking his head. “If you’re going to insult the host, you can all pop down to McDonald’s or something.”

  Verity patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Doc—if we ever see you in sandals, we’ll stage an intervention.”

  “As well you should.” Stone studied the Christmas tree, feeling content. “In any case, I’m glad we could all get together, and I genuinely hope the universe has decided to let up on the pedal for a while. I could get to like this peace and quiet.”

  “You’re not fooling anybody, you know,” Ian said.

  2

  The new quarter started a few days after the first of the year. Stone only had two courses and one graduate seminar, and he’d managed to schedule them all so he’d only have to work two days a week.

  That didn’t mean he didn’t have to show up for meetings, though, including the one on the afternoon of the first day of the quarter. He didn’t know what this one was about, only that Beatrice Martinez, the head of the Cultural Anthropology department, had put it on his calendar yesterday.

  Brandon Greene was already at the conference room when he arrived. “Hey, Doc. Good holiday?”

  “Very nice, yes.” Stone looked him over. “Decided to skip the tie this quarter?” Ever since their first class together, Greene had always preferred a style that hovered somewhere between goth and skate-punk, preferring black, loose-fitting clothes and shoulder-length, perpetually messy hair. Last quarter—his first on the job—he’d gotten a haircut and worn a dress shirt, slacks, and a tie. This time, he’d swapped the more formal outfit for black jeans, a gray button-down shirt, and leather boots. Respectable, but not stuffy.

  Greene shrugged. “Wanted to be comfortable, but not too comfortable.” He grinned. “We can’t all be rebel rock stars like you. Not yet, anyway. Working on it.”

  Stone chuckled. He wore his usual uniform of black pub T-shirt, jeans, and his long black overcoat. He’d wondered a few times in the past if Martinez ever wanted to say anything to him about it, but she never did. Even the late Edwina Mortenson, former head of their little Occult Studies department and well-known stickler for decorum, hadn’t done anything more than shoot him disapproving glares when she thought he wasn’t looking. He was damned good at his job, they all knew it, and he didn’t mind taking advantage
of a few harmless perks in return. Especially when it meant he didn’t have to wear boring clothes to work.

  “Any idea what this meeting’s about?” He didn’t take a seat at the table, but instead paced the room, looking out the window at the groups of students ambling by on the quad below.

  “Nope. Maybe it’s to congratulate me for doing such a good job. You know, with a cake, a full bar, and a twenty-one-gun salute.”

  Stone snorted. “You’ll be lucky if you get a cup of lukewarm coffee and a personalized notepad.”

  “Hey, I’ve never had a personalized notepad before.” Greene settled into one of the chairs.

  Stone was spared answering by the arrival of Mackenzie Hubbard. The other Occult Studies professor sported his usual rumpled pants and a brown cardigan; he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He nodded to Stone and Greene, grunted a greeting, and dropped into a chair opposite Greene.

  Martinez showed up a couple minutes later, cheerfully harried as usual. “Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly, pulling a few folders from her briefcase and tossing them on the table. “I know this isn’t our standard meeting time, so I hope I haven’t pulled you from anything important.”

  “Other than making me drive over here, not really,” Stone said. A couple of ley lines crossed the Stanford campus, and many times over the previous quarter he’d been tempted to skip driving and pop over the easy way, but decided he’d best not take chances. The last thing he needed was to get preoccupied, forget his invisibility spell, and have somebody spot him showing up out of nowhere in the middle of a vacant lot.