The Supreme Mage in a Loser's Body

Ch 7 - Rafe Comes Back

Kael reached the shop with the tool bag pulling at his shoulder and a sharp ache beneath his bandages. Through the open door, he could see Thomas checking the payment on his phone again. His father put it down when he noticed him, although he was still smiling.

“Daniel called,” Thomas said. “He asked whether we could take on regular work.”

Kael set the bag beside the counter instead of lifting it onto the bench. “We can, if he keeps doing the heavy lifting,” he replied.

Elena came from the rear room carrying a plate. She took one look at the way he held his side and pulled out a chair with her foot.

“Sit before you tell us how well you feel,” she said. “Maya, get him some water.”

Kael lowered himself carefully. The food was still warm, and for several minutes nobody asked him to solve anything. Thomas described a customer who had agreed to wait another day for a repair. Maya complained that her father had nearly given the man a discount for waiting, even though he had brought the wrong replacement part himself.

Kael had just taken his first drink when a vehicle stopped outside.

Rafe Calder stepped down onto the pavement. Six men followed him from two vehicles, spreading out beside the shop window. Two carried short wooden clubs. Another had a length of chain wrapped around his fist.

Thomas's smile disappeared. He reached for the phone, but Rafe was already coming through the door.

“Put that away,” Rafe said. “Unless you're calling someone who can bring two hundred thousand dollars.”

Kael set his glass down and counted the men again. There were seven including Rafe, and none had entered carelessly. The collector stayed near the door while the others looked past him at the counter, the rear passage, and the space between the appliances.

They had discussed the room before coming inside.

“You gave us three days,” Thomas said.

Rafe rubbed the wrist Kael had twisted during their last encounter. “Marcus changed his mind,” he replied. “He wants the shop today. Tools, stock, everything you can sell. You can argue about the balance afterward.”

Elena moved closer to Maya. “Some of these appliances belong to customers,” she said.

“Then you should have paid before we came for them,” Rafe replied.

Kael pushed himself out of the chair. His ribs hurt when he straightened, so he kept one hand on the counter until the pain eased.

“Where is the loan record?” he asked.

Rafe glanced at the half-finished meal. “You found money for food,” he said. “Find money for Marcus.”

“We asked for a record of what was borrowed and what was paid,” Kael replied. “You brought men with clubs.”

One of the men laughed, but Rafe did not. His gaze stayed on Kael's hands.

“You think hurting me once means you can keep doing this?” Rafe asked. “I know you're injured. I can see you leaning on that counter.”

Kael could not deny it. He had spent the morning working, walked home carrying tools, and barely slept the night before. Even drawing a full breath hurt. The little energy he had taken from the ring would not carry him through a long fight.

He turned toward Elena without taking his attention off the doorway.

“Take Maya into the back room and shut the door,” Kael said. “Dad, go with them.”

Maya caught her mother's sleeve. Elena hesitated until the man with the chain struck it against the doorframe, leaving a dent in the wood.

“Go,” Thomas said. “I'll be right behind you.”

Elena guided Maya down the passage, but Thomas remained beside the end of the counter. He put his phone in his pocket and steadied himself against the wood.

“You too,” Kael said.

“I'm not leaving you out here with seven men,” Thomas replied.

Kael wanted to order him again. Thomas's left leg was already trembling beneath the brace, and the nearest club could reach him in two steps. But Rafe shifted aside before Kael could speak, letting a broad man in a gray jacket move through the doorway.

Kael stepped forward to meet him.

The entrance was narrow, with a washing machine close to one side and the counter on the other. If he let the men spread through the shop, they would surround him. He needed to hold them there, where only one could reach him properly at a time.

“Move,” the man said, reaching for his collar.

Kael caught the reaching wrist with both hands and stepped toward the washing machine. The man followed to keep his balance. Before he could plant his foot, Kael pressed the trapped hand down against the machine's edge and bent his elbow the wrong way.

The man cried out and dropped to one knee. Kael turned him toward the entrance as a second attacker tried to squeeze past. They collided, blocking each other long enough for Kael to shove the kneeling man into his companion.

Pain spread across Kael's side. He kept his mouth closed while the two stumbled onto the pavement.

He had used no magic, but this body could barely afford ordinary movement either.

“Don't grab him,” Rafe said. “Hit him.”

The first club came down toward Kael's shoulder. He moved close to the attacker before the swing could gather force, catching the man's forearm against his own shoulder. With his other hand, he pushed the man's elbow upward and drove him sideways into the doorframe.

The club struck the wood. Kael took it while the man's fingers loosened, then pressed its length across his upper arm and forced him down. The attacker fell against the washing machine, clutching his shoulder.

Thomas had moved behind the counter. Kael heard a drawer open but could not turn to see what his father was doing.

The man with the chain stepped over his fallen companion and swung at Kael's face. Kael pulled back behind the doorframe. Metal struck plaster, scattering chips across the floor.

Before the man could draw his arm back, Kael thrust the wooden club between his feet. The attacker tripped over it, caught himself on the counter, and took Kael's elbow against the side of his jaw. He slid to the floor, dragging a tray of screws down with him.

Kael's vision blurred for a moment. He leaned against the frame and forced air through his nose, waiting for the room to settle.

“Ethan, come back,” Thomas said. “You can't keep doing this.”

Rafe heard him. His eyes moved from Kael's pale face to the men outside.

“Both of you,” Rafe said. “He can't stop both.”

The two men Kael had pushed out came forward again. One held his wrist against his stomach, while the other reached around him to seize Kael's sleeve. Kael struck the reaching hand with the club, then shoved the injured man into his companion's path.

This time, someone behind them pushed back.

Their combined weight forced Kael away from the entrance. His heel slid through the scattered screws, and he caught the counter hard with his hip. A fresh stab of pain left him unable to breathe for a moment.

Three men came through before he recovered.

Kael brought the club down across the nearest man's forearm. As the man folded over it, Kael pulled him sideways to block the next attacker. But the last one slipped past the washing machine and headed toward Thomas.

His father had taken a long screwdriver from the drawer. He held it low, his knuckles pale around the handle.

“Stay back,” Thomas said.

The man stopped just beyond his reach. “Put it down, old man,” he replied.

Kael tried to turn toward them, but the attacker beside him caught his jacket. He pulled free, leaving the fabric stretched across the man's fist, and drove the end of the club into his stomach.

Behind the counter, Thomas backed toward the rear passage. His injured leg dragged against the floor. The man facing him noticed it and lowered his own club.

Kael saw where he was looking.

“Dad, move!” he said.

Thomas tried, but the man's swing was already coming. The wood struck the outside of his left leg, just below the edge of the brace.

Thomas cried out. His knee gave way, and he fell against the counter before dropping to the floor. The screwdriver rolled from his hand.

The man raised his club again.

Kael released the power before he measured how much he needed.

He thrust his open hand toward the attacker. The force struck the man's chest from less than two steps away, lifting him off his feet and sending him across the shop. He hit a metal shelving unit hard enough to bend its upright support. Boxes of spare parts fell around him as he dropped to the floor.

The recoil twisted Kael's body. A sharp pain tore through the rib that had only begun to heal, and his knees buckled beneath him.

He caught the counter with both hands. The club slipped from his fingers.

For several seconds, he could hear nothing clearly except his own strained breathing. He tried to draw more power from the reserve he had held since emptying Rafe's ring, but it was gone. He had spent the last of it in that single uncontrolled push.

The small remnant bound to his soul remained. Touching it now would risk losing his hold on Ethan's body.

He could not do that again.

Across the street, Evelyn Shaw had stopped beside her parked car when the raised voices drew her attention. Her phone was already recording through the open shop doorway. She had seen the clubs, the injured older man, and Ethan Cole trying to keep the attackers near the entrance.

Then the man beside the counter flew backward without anyone touching him.

The detector in Evelyn's coat pocket gave a brief, sharp vibration. She took it out just long enough to check the reading, then returned her attention to the shop.

The burst had come from Ethan. This time, there was no hotel beneath him and no machine to confuse the source.

She saved the recording and stepped away from the car, keeping the doorway in view. Her superior had ordered her to watch for a connection to the Circle of Ash. What she had recorded was an injured young man using unregistered magic after someone struck his father.

Inside, Elena opened the rear door when she heard Thomas cry out. Maya followed her into the passage, stopping as she saw him on the floor.

“Stay there,” Kael said.

His voice was weak, but nobody moved toward them. The men nearest the entrance were backing away from the bent shelf. Its lowest tray hung loose over the attacker, who lay on his side, coughing and trying to draw his knees up.

Elena ignored Kael and knelt beside Thomas. She held his shoulders while Maya crouched near his injured leg.

“Don't pull on it,” Thomas said through clenched teeth. “Give me a moment.”

Kael shifted along the counter until he stood between them and Rafe. He wanted to kneel beside Thomas, examine the injury, and take the pain away. He had no spare power left to do it, and turning his back would leave all three of them exposed.

Rafe stared at the fallen shelving, then at Kael's empty hand.

“What was that?” he asked.

Kael could not manage an answer without taking another painful breath. He stayed upright by pressing his hip against the counter, hoping Rafe would mistake the pause for a choice.

One of the men near the door reached for the club on the floor.

“Leave it,” Rafe said.

The man straightened at once. Two others helped the coughing attacker out from beneath the fallen boxes. None looked willing to approach Kael again, but the collector had not left.

“You came here before your own deadline,” Kael said. “You attacked my father. Take your men out.”

Elena was speaking quietly to Thomas behind him. Kael heard the scrape of a chair as Maya pulled it closer, followed by his father's breath catching when they helped him sit.

Rafe glanced toward the sound. His gaze stopped on Maya.

Kael moved enough to block his view, although the movement sent another spasm through his ribs. Rafe noticed. His hand settled over the phone in his jacket pocket.

“You can't stand here all day,” Rafe said. “Sooner or later, one of you has to go outside.”

“Rafe,” one of his men said from the doorway. “Let's go.”

The collector ignored him. Maya stood beside Thomas's chair, still holding the cloth Elena had pressed into her hands. Rafe leaned slightly to see past Kael.

“Marcus already has your sister's school identification,” Rafe said. “He knows which gate she leaves through and the route she takes home.”