Witchmarked (World's First Wizard Book 1) by Aaron Schneider (namjoon book recommendations txt) 📗

open enough to squint in Milo’s direction. “And if that weren’t enough, those rocks have holes in them. One giant worms’ nest.”

“You’ve been there?” Milo asked.

Ambrose’s eye snapped shut, and he made the sound of a snore in answer.

“We aren’t going there for a holiday,” Lokkemand observed dryly, ignoring the bodyguard’s antics. “We are going there so you can make contact with a nonconforming asset.”

“One of the monsters?” Milo asked, unable to keep the eager tremble out of his voice.

“Nonconforming. Asset.” Lokkemand said, each word punctuated as hard as a punch. “That is what it is.”

“But Colonel Jorge…” Milo began but stopped when he saw the baleful look in the captain’s eyes.

“Colonel Jorge is a senior officer and a mentor,” Lokkemand explained, his words so precise and sharp they might have been used as surgical implements. “But during this operation, you will answer to me. Due to your unique...station, many liberties have been afforded you, but you need to understand that this is my mission.”

To facilitate the point, the strapping officer reached over and tapped the topmost pentacle on Milo’s cap sharply. Milo smothered the instinctive response of throwing a fist into the bigger man’s throat.

“You may be the star of this little production, Volkohne,” he said grimly. “But for now you are on my stage, and it is your job to make sure I’m happy with the performance. Understood?”

Milo glared at him but nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Lokkemand said, raising a hand to his ear. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Milo ground his teeth together and sucked in a breath. It seemed some aspects of military life didn’t change even for burgeoning wizards.

“Yes, sir!” he barked over the engine, and Ambrose gave a convincing snuffle as though he’d just been awoken.

“We’der’yet?” he grumbled, blinking and pawing at his face as he sat up.

“And this,” Lokkemand said with a curl of his lip toward Ambrose, “is also part of your job. Make certain this deserting scum keeps to his duties and nothing else. If he steps out of line, either you deal with it or I will, with the understanding you won’t be getting a new pet anytime soon. Keep your guard dog on a short leash.”

“Bow-wow,” Ambrose remarked coolly, meeting Lokkemand’s glare with defiant indifference.

The captain held the look long enough that Milo felt certain something might catch fire if it passed through the tension crackling between the two men.

To Milo’s surprise, it was Lokkemand who broke away from the exchange first, turning back to Milo positively bristling.

“Once you make contact with the nonconforming asset, you will engage in whatever instruction is offered. Colonel Jorge has invested a great deal in securing cooperation from the asset, and as such, you will make every effort to excel. Not just your life and freedom, but the solvency of the Nicht-KAT is at stake.”

“Yes, sir,” Milo replied, wary of the furious gleam in the captain’s eye. “I understand.”

“Your personal reservations and preferences mean nothing,” Lokkemand continued. “The asset is to be appeased, and you are to learn everything you can. Keep records and be thorough since you will be expected to pass any and all information back to me.”

Milo frowned, feeling as though this was turning into a school assignment rather than a face-first plunge into the world of the supernatural. Lokkemand possessed a knack for sucking the joy out of everything he touched, which perhaps explained his perpetual perturbance.

“We’ve come to understand that these assets do not value things as a more rational mind would,” Lokkemand warned, settling back against his seat. “As such, there is always that one who will decide this arrangement is not to their liking, and you may find your well-being at risk. If such does occur, it is your duty to return to our base of operations at Bamyan, or barring that, ensure the records you’ve kept are returned.”

“He’d hate to go to all this trouble for nothing,” Ambrose chuckled.

“Do you understand the parameters of the operation?” Lokkemand asked, pointedly ignoring the bodyguard.

Milo swallowed, trying to remember every instruction given to him in the last few minutes. It seemed to him that there were large gaps left in regard to procedures, but he supposed this operation was strongly results-based. Milo had to learn magic, and despite Lokkemand’s rigid manner, he understood that it didn’t matter much how it was achieved.

Was this what it took to learn from the dark?

“Yes, sir,” Milo answered, unable to shake the disquieting feeling settling over his shoulders.

Milo looked out the train’s window as they chugged along the coast of the Caspian Sea, nearly a week out from that first debriefing as they left Zabrze in a small convoy of trucks.

Since the day that had ended in them boarding the first of many trains, Lokkemand had been scarce, busying himself with the entourage of communication officers and technicians and administrative assistants who made up the rest of the team. When he did appear like some looming, black-wrapped specter, it was to instruct Milo on the next leg of their travels. Every time he spoke, it seemed he had refined his repertoire of instructions to use fewer words to communicate the necessary information.

Given his feelings toward the captain, he appreciated the officer’s practiced communication skills.

Still, Lokkemand could learn a thing or two about terseness from his underlings. The other members of the team met Milo’s presence with stony silence, so he quickly learned that talking to them was an exercise in futility. Whatever gossip or storytelling they were engaged with immediately came to a stop when Milo appeared and would resume as soon as he began to depart. Questions were answered with simple nods, headshakes, or not at all. Once one of them had pointed him in the direction of the water closet on the train, but that aberration was never repeated.

As a result, Milo had no choice but to amuse himself with Simon Ambrose in what was proving to be a rather uneven series of exchanges. Despite the incredible explosion of physical prowess displayed