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  Afflicted to the Core

  Wielder World Three

  by

  Nat Kennedy

  Copyright © 2019 by Nat Kennedy

  Cover design by Deranged Doctor Design

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner

  whatsoever without the express written

  permission of the publisher except for the use

  of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters,

  places and incidents are fiction and any

  resemblance to actual events, locals or persons

  is entirely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2019

  www.natkennedy.com

  Table of 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

  Now Available

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  From his table at the window in Grindworks Café, Reggie Wolfe watched Kyle Landon stroll towards him---black scarf wrapped around his neck to shield against the February wind---and vowed he would never let the cults touch Kyle again. Even after the horror of last fall, Kyle swung his arms and his step seemed light. His T-shirt, peeking out from under a black jacket, uncharacteristically had some color to it. Dark reds, maybe a splash of orange. Reggie smiled warmly at Kyle's upbeat mood. Had he done well in class or heard from his estranged parents? Perhaps, after he reported on his progress untangling his Nerve, he had a date.

  Reggie grabbed his coffee cup and swallowed the bitter liquid. He couldn't blame Kyle if he had other plans. Reggie had put him off for months.

  If Reggie were completely honest with himself, after the events of last November---his shabby infiltration into the Mara Murda lodge, his torture, and eventual rescue by his sister and the Bureau of Wielder Services---he'd needed some time. Time to recover, certainly, but mostly time to put his thoughts in order. Did he want to continue putting himself in danger of complete Corruption by continuing to Wield the Nerve of the World? He was the only one who could help those men overcome with Taint, using his unique mentalism ability and knowledge of the Nerve. But the cost was high, as each time he Wielded the lizard-like skin continued to expand over his torso, inch by inch, a virulent infestation. Did he want to continue involving himself with potentially criminal elements that could lose him his professorial career at Albion University? Did he want more from Kyle Landon?

  Wait. No...that last issue wasn't something he thought about. Nor the kiss at the lodge, tender but full of so much more. He really only ever thought about his desire to keep Kyle away from those bastards. That was only natural. The rest, well, it was not something he thought about...intentionally.

  Reggie took a steadying breath as Kyle stopped to let a couple pass before him on the street.

  Following their escape from the Mara Murda cult, Reggie had met with Kyle every day to train him in untangling his Nerve, a skill Kyle desperately needed to thwart his growing Taint. Once Kyle had learned to do it himself, they went from seeing each other every day to only weekly. During that entire time Reggie had kept Kyle at arm's length.

  What else could he do? Reggie was Kyle's instructor. Their positions were unequal. He had power over Kyle. Reggie would not take advantage of the younger man.

  The scaly skin on his back itched. He inhaled the comforting scent of his coffee and did not reach back to scratch at the annoyance like a dog would a biting flea. At least his skin had grown back from where it had been flayed away, even if it hadn't returned pink and flawless. Corruption could not be removed.

  A small smile brushed Kyle's lips when he spotted Reggie through the window. Reggie lifted his hand in a wave. Kyle jerked his chin up in acknowledgment while that hint of smile burst into a grin. His bangs nearly brushed his eyes, hiding a brow ring that Reggie knew was there. Ah, what a kid.

  A kid. Recently just twenty-two. But smart and daring and gorgeous, his insistent heart kept telling him. At times, when he lay alone in bed at night, Reggie reminded himself that Kyle would find someone else. Someone more exciting, more fun, more willing to be open about his sexuality. Eventually, he would just move on.

  Kyle yanked the door open, a gust of cool air flushing in, and joined Reggie at his table.

  "You're late." Reggie pointed to the coffee he'd ordered for Kyle five minutes ago. "Your coffee's probably cold now."

  Kyle gasped in horror. "Cold coffee! Say it isn't so!" He unwound his scarf and drew his coat zipper down in a slow reveal of his tight, almost colorful shirt before he sat down in the chair opposite Reggie. He picked up the paper to-go cup and sipped. "It's good. How you doing, Teach?"

  "It's Saturday. It's not raining." Always a bonus this time of year. "What's not good? Though midterms are in a few weeks. How's your lineup?"

  "Two programming projects and a paper. Paper's almost done," Kyle announced with pride and leaned back in the chair, arms reaching high in celebration, offering an easy view of his narrow chest. Taking in a supportive breath, Reggie let himself look. Kyle arched his back a little more, all the while giving him a cat-in-the-cream kind of smile. "Going to the Black Castle tonight, wanna come?"

  Reggie's awakening blood cooled, a cold nugget of apprehension lodging itself in his belly. The Black Castle---a mostly gay bar and dance club that was once a haven for male cultists, until the Mara Murda take down last fall. Most cultists lay low, not drawing attention to themselves. Now, those who hadn't fled into the dark forest surrounding the cult's lodge occupied rooms in Disentanglement Centers. The members of other cults were keeping their noses clean, according to his sister, Bethany.

  The owner of the Black Castle had also been there during the BWS bust of Mara Murda. One August Whalen. A man he owed on many levels. If August asked for his help to untangle the Nerve, Reggie would do it. Probably, he would be the last man Reggie ever taught.

  "No, thanks for the invite though." Reggie took a sip of coffee. "Say hi to August for me."

  Kyle leaned forward, elbows on the table, every aspect about him all youthful and earnest. "Oh, come on. August would love to see you...and it won't be me and a ton of other students. I was hoping you could come, and me...and that's it." He lowered his lashes, almost shy.

  Reggie's cold knot melted and a wash of heat crawled up his neck and over his cheeks. Kyle's hand pushed across the tabletop, meeting the halfway line. Reggie looked at it. Black nail polish still filled the grooves along Kyle's cuticles. He must have been full-on goth last night, hanging out with his friends.

  "Hey, Reggie!"

  Reggie jumped in his chair, nearly knocking over his coffee, yanking his hand away from where it had migrated to within inches of Kyle's, and faced the newcomer.

  Professor Sally Boltmier of the engineering department: his senior professor and a close friend on campus.

  "Sally. How are you this morning?" He gripped the napkin in his lap, crumbling it up into a tightwad, and focused on her, not letting his gaze stray to Kyle.

  Her welcoming smile faltered. "I'm great. Sorry to interrupt. I didn't mean to scare you ou
t of your seat."

  Reggie's mind stirred to create some excuse and send her on her way, but he couldn't say anything before Kyle stood and offered his hand.

  "I'm Kyle. Reggie's...friend."

  Reggie's...friend.

  That pause. Kyle had done that on purpose. The temperature in the room ratcheted to sauna levels. Reggie struggled to hold steady under the gaze of his senior colleague, to not look guilty. No point looking guilty. He wasn't guilty!

  "Reggie's...oh. Oh! Oh, well, pleased to meet you, Kyle. I'm Sally Boltmier, I work with Reggie in Sloan Hall."

  Kyle's smile brightened. "I know you. You spoke for him in that...case last fall." At least he hadn't blurted out 'sexual harassment' for the entire café's knowledge.

  Sally eyed Kyle, up and down, and Kyle stood tall as if meeting his prom date's father. Sally's stern appraisal softened, and she nodded and dropped her voice to say, "I knew Reggie wasn't guilty of any inappropriate activities. So," her consideration shifted from Kyle to Reggie and back again, "you've been together since then?"

  Reggie wanted to crawl under the table, maybe dig his way into the linoleum, and hide. He could still salvage this if he got up, spoke out, explained everything. "Well, it wasn't...we weren't---"

  Kyle's laughter cut off Reggie's bumbling. He brushed through his hair, giving it a tousled look, showing off his brow piercing. "Oh, well, we weren't together, then. But we knew each other." He gazed down at Reggie and gave him a besotted look. Reggie warmed and guessed his return stare was akin to a devoted Labrador until his colleague laughed and broke him from his trance.

  "Well, I'll let you two get back to your afternoon. Enjoy the spring weather! See you Monday." She gave Reggie a look that suggested there would be more to this conversation on Monday, but he knew she wouldn't spread any rumors about him on campus, or anywhere else. She might say something to her husband, though. They shared everything.

  Reggie's eyes flicked to Kyle. Kyle knew almost everything about him, too.

  Once Professor Boltmier was gone, Reggie demanded, "What was that?"

  Kyle sat back down, smug accomplishment slathered on thick. "Just meeting your coworkers."

  "She thinks we're a couple," he accused under his breath.

  Kyle shrugged. "And eventually we will be, Teach. I'm impressed you've held out against this charm and these good looks for this long." He gestured at himself as if presenting the solution to a Millennial Prize Problem in math. Then he leaned forward again, eager delight brightening his eyes. "So, how about tonight?"

  Reggie's eyes dipped down to Kyle's lips and then returned to that steady gaze. He'd kissed those lips once. Once. Just a brush, a light touch. He'd been in terrible pain and injected with who knows what chemical concoction that even his sister's scientist contact couldn't figure out. He'd liked that kiss. His ex, Scott, had never kissed with such...heart. Was this inevitable? Were all of his arguments just a way to not give in to this...thing he felt? This attraction?

  But the Black Castle? His students could be there.

  He held his breath, examining himself. It did feel inevitable, and no matter how many arguments he shored himself up with, it did not feel wrong.

  He wanted Kyle.

  "Yeah, I'll meet you there. Just you, me, a lot of skell crazy Wielders, and August Whalen."

  That brilliance spread from Kyle's eyes to his smile.

  ~~~

  But it didn't work out that way. That evening at home, Reggie already had his jacket on for the date when his phone rang. "Reggie. I need to talk to you," his sister Bethany said, her voice broken with sorrow.

  Reggie's grip on his phone tightened. "Beth, what is it? Is everyone okay? Is Melanie okay?"

  "Can I come over?"

  Without a second thought, he said, "Yes. Of course. I'll be here."

  Because this was his sister. Kyle knew almost everything about Reggie, but Bethany had the whole kit and caboodle in her hands. Bethany had raised him. Had saved him. Loved and supported him through the mess of his earlier life. Bethany was his family.

  Once he hung up, that second thought bopped about in his mind. But really, there was no choice between a first date with a...a friend and being there for his sister.

  He hit Kyle's number on his phone and closed his eyes to prepare himself for a battery of annoyed young man.

  "Hi, Reggie!"

  "Kyle, I'm sorry. Very sorry. I can't come tonight. Something came up. My sister's...well, she needs me."

  "Oh." Disappointment, but no anger. That was nice. "No problem. You need to help the scary Bureau agent. I'll just hang with August then head home."

  "I'm really sorry...next time?"

  Kyle's warm laughter bubbled through the phone. "Sure, next time. We'll plan something. Seriously, don't worry about me. I'm bummed, but hell...when does your hardass sister ever need anybody?"

  Reggie swallowed and shifted his grip on the phone. "Never."

  "Yeah, so not really much of a choice. Hey, wanna go biking tomorrow?"

  Reggie immediately said yes. In for a penny. It scared him, this idea of jumping. He'd been betrayed before. Hurt. Scott had used him, broken his ability to trust. That hard shell around his heart was strengthened by rebar and a bad past. But he'd try. Even if it was only for a short while, didn't he owe himself a little happiness?

  Less than a half-hour later, a faint knock tapped against his door. Reggie opened it to his sister, eyes red, but not crying. Her face was lax, expressionless, her shoulders slumped. On the doorstep of his house, she said, "Paul's leaving me."

  Though Reggie's cold, internal shock meter hadn't twitched, he knew the news tore the ground out from under her feet. Taking up some of her burden, he tilted against the door frame, letting a measure of her pain wash over him.

  "But you were going to counseling," he said as if just going made everything better.

  Wordlessly, she handed Reggie a manila envelope. He took it and ushered her in, closing the door with a soft click. Standing in the center of his small living room, he flipped open the flap and pulled out a sheaf of papers. Petition for Divorce.

  "He's going to take Melanie."

  "Oh, sis." He wrapped his sister up in his arms, offering her the support she'd always offered him. "I'm so sorry."

  "I missed her ballerina performance again." Bethany's voice was hollow as Reggie walked her to the couch and slowly lowered them to sit side by side. "I only made the Christmas one, and I missed all the others. There's this case...with a physical Wielder." Reggie blinked at that. Did those even exist? "The Green Killer...we got him." She inhaled a shaky breath, and a glistening tear gathered on her lower lashes. Her head bobbed in a slow nod as she stared off. "I almost died." Thoughts of his sister's bloody body on the street lashed apart his own cool. He took a deep breath and grabbed her hand, needing to hold her, to make sure she was really here and not in a casket being given honors for a hero's death. She gripped him back, her fingers strong and tight within his. "I don't know how to balance my life. I never did. I never wanted to neglect my family."

  "Sis, you didn't neglect anyone. You're always there when it comes to providing and ensuring their safety. Paul knew you were a career Wielder when he married you. He wasn't blind." His sister saved people. When they'd first got married, Reggie had accepted that Paul's love for his sister was granite-solid, but Paul had always been needy.

  "But Melanie..." A whine whistled from her throat, and Reggie held her. His sister did not break down. His sister did not cry.

  "I know," he muttered. "I know." Because, what else could he say?

  He offered his sister the guest bed in his small two-bedroom house. They mainly sat in silence together, letting the sense of destruction and failure wash over them both. He didn't know how it could be done, a career and family. It was something he'd never even attempted.

  That night, in the small hours of the morning, the upbeat tone of his phone tore him from a dream where he was attaching wings to Wielder men and tossing t
hem over a cliff to fly away. He scrambled for the phone and squinted at the screen. Kyle.

  "Kyle?" Sleep stained his voice.

  "Reggie. I'm at the Disentangle Center."

  Ice replaced the blood in his veins, shocking him to full wakefulness. A Disentanglement Center. An oubliette.

  "I was attacked by some cultists, and the BWS gathered me up with them. The Harpford Disentanglement Center. That's where...that's where I'm at." Kyle's voice was toneless and steady, an unknowing echo of Bethany earlier that evening.

  Reggie's bedroom door opened; Bethany stood in his sweats and tank top, eyeing the phone. "Reg, what's up? Is something wrong?"

  Dazed, he stared at his sister. "It's Kyle. The BWS picked him up."

  His sister's face slipped into confusion, then hardened, no-nonsense, all business. "Tell him we're coming. He'll be okay."

  "Kyle," Reggie spoke into the phone, "we're coming. I've got my sister with me. We'll be there in a few minutes."

  A sniff. "Thank you. I didn't do anything. I wanted you to know, I didn't Wield."

  Chapter 2

  Keeping a few steps ahead of her, Bethany's brother charged through the double glass doors into the Harpford Disentanglement Center's lobby, already barking out demands to the receptionist. On the tense ride over, she'd told him to let her do the talking, to keep his cool, and be calm, but his protective instinct was a mile wide, and there was little she could do when someone he considered under his guardianship was put in danger. He'd always been a hot head.

  An orderly in his mid-thirties made to intercept Bethany. She had no time for that. Reflecting the man's own mask of blasé, she reached into her suit jacket pocket and pulled out her badge, raising it directly in line with his eyes. A name tag clipped to his mint-green uniform pocket read 'Miller.'

  "Lead Agent Bethany Wolfe-Martin---" for an instant everything went a little fuzzy, and she choked on her name, then swallowed down a surge of grief. Should she keep her married name, for her daughter's sake? Would it hurt Melanie if they had different names? She had no time for that, either. "Bureau of Wielder Services. A group of alleged Wielder men was brought in tonight, and I need to talk to them."