[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/xPfAC72.jpg[/img][/center]


[b]Bel Air
6:40 AM[/b]

Jimmy the Saint could hear the thumps and screams even though he sat in a chair at the other end of the hall from his master’s bedroom. It was like this every night. Henry Grigoriyan would come home from the club his organization ran, beautiful women on both arms. He and the women would retire to the bedroom while Jimmy stood sentry. The moans started shortly after the door shut. The screams would follow. Then the cries for help.

Grigoriyan emerged from the bedroom, shirtless and wearing pajama bottoms. Scratches covered his chest and neck. He padded across the carpeted floors towards Jimmy.

“Make them forget,” he said as he passed by Jimmy. “I’m going to get some milk.”

“I’m not your fucking maid,” Jimmy said, standing up from the chair. 

“I pay you do whatever I want,” said Grigoriyan. “And for what I pay, if I say go fuck yourself then you create a dildo out of thin air and shove it up your ass.”

The Armenian crime lord disappeared down the stairs. Jimmy sighed and walked into his master’s bedroom. The two women he’d seen earlier in the night were on the bed, naked and crying, their expensive makeup smeared. They were covered in bruises and cuts, one woman still wore the thick dog collar Grigoriyan had strapped to her neck.

[i]“Obliviscatur,” [/i]Jimmy said in the ancient tongue of the magi, performing the requisite hand signals. 

He felt the power leaving him and entering the women’s minds. He would wipe their memory of the last few hours and put them to sleep. When Grigoriyan’s other men showed up in the morning, they would take them home and the two women would only have the bruises and cuts that they wouldn’t be able to remember how they got. Jimmy had seen into the mind’s of the women Grigoriyan did this too. It was fortunate in a lot of ways that they would never remember what happened.

After they were both out, he headed out the bedroom and downstairs. He found his master, drinking milk straight from the plastic jug, liquid dripping from the corners of his mouth and on to the expensive marble floors.

“I guess you want me to clean that up to.”

“If I so wish,” said Grigoriyan. “Speaking of cleaning. What of this cop you said is dabbling into your world?”

“I spooked him off tonight,” said Jimmy. “I let him know that I can’t kill him per your orders. But there are a lot of things worse than death.”

“Indeed there are, squire.”

Both men turned in shock at the sound of a voice. Jimmy realized that there had been a cloaking spell in the area, the spell dropping away as he saw the man standing in Grigoriyan’s impressive kitchen. Jimmy could feel the man’s power. It was hidden and murky, but there was enough there to give him pause.

[img]https://i.imgur.com/VFkEHrs.png[/img]

“I think the three of us could do with a bit of a chat.”