While Morthisal's head threatened to split, he managed to hold his head up. The pain wasn't centered in one location. It consumed the entirety of his skull.

  Philip's words still hung in the air for a moment before Katherine slapped her palm on the table.

  "Philip, do not say another word."

  "It's done, Katherine." Philip's voice had gone flat, the fight gone out of it entirely.

  "You cannot verbally agree to anything in this room without—"

  "I said it's done. I'm accepting. The offer is more than generous, and Yvette is right. This case could drag out for years. I'm not willing to take the risk with this much money literally on the table."

  Morthisal didn't have to fight a grin. Why hadn't he thought of stoking the man's avarice in the first place?

  Yvette had earlier stuffed half a dozen legal documents into a leather satchel, each with a different offer, and left it under the table. Morthisal had briefly skimmed several of them, but had been lost in a lot of the legalese. What he understood was the amount of money on each page. Philip had not called her bluff and had unknowingly agreed to the smallest offer in the batch.

  Yvette produced a pair of thick multipage documents, clipped together and tabbed with small colored stickers, and slid them across the polished walnut surface toward Philip without a word.

  "One is for you, and one is for me. We'll sign both. We need a witness," Yvette said.

  "I'll do it." Anil perked up.

  Katherine grabbed the packets before Philip's hand could touch them. "You are not signing anything until I have reviewed every line."

  "Then start reading," Philip said. "We're taking the deal, Katherine."

  Katherine's jaw locked tight. "Philip. I strongly advise you against—"

  "Your advice has cost me a lot of money over the last eight months." Philip snatched the documents back, laid them flat on the table, and uncapped the pen Yvette had placed beside the water pitcher.

  Morthisal's pounding headache abated somewhat, but it still throbbed behind his eyes and made him see stars.

  Philip signed the pages in quick succession. His hand moved with the certainty of a man who had already done the hard work of deciding. Then he slid it to Anil. His assistant briefly looked the document over, quietly whistled at the amount of money on the first page, and signed next to his boss's. Yvette was the last to sign. She put one copy in her satchel and gave the other to Philip.

  Katherine's eyes scanned the other contract. Her face cycled through several phases before settling on a controlled blankness.

  "This is binding," she said quietly to no one in particular.

  "Yes," Yvette replied. "It is."

  Briggs unfolded his arms and exhaled through his nose. He looked at the ceiling briefly, then back at his employer. He caught Morthisal's gaze and mouthed the words set for life before ducking his head.

  Philip capped the pen and stood. He did not shake Yvette's hand. He buttoned his tan linen jacket, tugged at the hem, and straightened his cuffs.

  "I expect the wire within seventy-two hours."

  "You'll have it. I promise," Yvette said.

  Philip gave a single, short nod and walked to the door. Anil scrambled to collect his folders and tablet. Briggs opened the door and stood aside to let his employer pass. Katherine didn't so much leave, as slam her belongings together, press them to her chest, and storm out.

  Anil stopped at the threshold and turned back with a wide smile.

  "It was great to meet you, man. Seriously."

  Morthisal managed a nod.

  The door clicked shut.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Yvette sat perfectly still for three full seconds. Then she exhaled, long and slow, and set both hands flat on the table.

  "That's done," she said.

  Morthisal said nothing. The pounding behind his eye came in waves, each one slightly worse than the last. He placed his elbow on the table and rested his forehead against his palm.

  "Vince." Yvette turned. "Hey."

  "I am fine," he said.

  "You don't look fine." Yvette pushed her chair back.

  "I believe it is a migraine, though I confess I have never had one before."

  "From the, um, powers thing?"

  "Indeed."

  "You were marvelous. But come with me. I have some medication that might help."

  Morthisal followed her out to the main area and plopped himself on the leather couch.

  Yvette quickly went to the bedroom. She returned a moment later with a pill bottle.

  "Sumatriptan," she said. "It's a migraine medication. Take one." She pressed the orange bottle into his hand and poured him a glass of water from the pitcher.

  Morthisal shook one small white tablet into his palm and swallowed it with the water.

  "How long has your head been hurting?"

  "Since just before Philip agreed."

  Yvette placed the back of her hand against his forehead and frowned. "You're warm. Did you push too hard in there?"

  "Apparently."

  She rose from her chair and sat beside him.

  Morthisal pressed both palms flat on the table and stared at the wood grain. The headache did not abate. If anything, the first twenty minutes were worse, a blinding pressure that made the overhead lighting in the room intolerable.

  Yvette stayed beside him and said nothing, which he appreciated more than any words she might have offered. She got up at one point to make some coffee. Morthisal asked for a cup, and she made him one with extra creamer and sugar. He could only smile in thanks before putting his head back in his hands.

  The larger pool sat there, empty, and he wondered if part of the headache was due to being low on energy. Yvette was aware that he frequently wore a TENS machine for "back pain". He pulled out the device and realized it wasn't even on. He pushed the button and cranked up the power to max. After a few more minutes, he started to feel better, whether it was the medication, the TENS machine, or a combination of both. It didn't matter so long as his head no longer felt as if it were about to explode.

  Morthisal straightened in his chair and rolled his neck.

  "I am beginning to feel better," he said.

  Yvette made a short, relieved sound and leaned forward. "Thank god." She reached up and touched his hair with two fingers, examining something above his ear.

  "Your white patch got bigger."

  Morthisal reached up and felt it. The streak had been half an inch wide the last time he'd checked. It felt broader now.

  "Noted," he said.

  Yvette searched his face. "What happened in there? At the end, I mean. When Briggs started talking and then suddenly reversed course."

  Morthisal considered how to explain it. "I ran out. Completely. I had nothing remaining. And then something shifted. A reserve I did not know I possessed."

  "A reserve? What does that mean?"

  "Like a second stomach for power." He paused. "That is perhaps a poor comparison. But the capacity expanded. I pushed past whatever my usual limit was, and something on the other side of that limit expanded."

  Yvette slowly nodded. "And that's what caused the headache."

  "Without question."

  He thought of David Reeves, aka Draeven Ashmark, who had been tossed into the body of a small child and left to fight his way back to power over the course of thirty years. Every limit Morthisal had ever hit, Reeves had already broken through.

  Morthisal had assumed Reeves's strength had come from time. Maybe it had come from simply blasting through his limits. What if Morthisal had been cautious when he should have been reckless?

  Yvette broke the silence. "This means so much to me, Vince. You helped me with a problem that I thought would never go away."

  "I am happy to help with whatever you require."

  They sat together on the couch and spoke quietly as Morthisal's headache faded. The TENS machine did its job, replenishing his energy, while the coffee simply made him feel better.

  "You look a lot better."

  Morthisal stretched and found the pressure in his head had mostly abated. He stood and walked around the room since his brain had stopped trying to kill him.

  "Would you like to go lie down with me?"

  Morthisal nodded. "Very much so."

  "Good." Yvette grinned. "You know what the best part of the negotiation was?"

  Morthisal looked at her quizzically.

  "When you slammed your hand on the table and took on that commanding tone." Her face flushed. "Philip’s soul practically left his body. Katherine went white. Briggs flinched. Other things happened to me."

  "Oh?"

  Yvette picked up her bag and walked past him toward the bedroom, trailing one hand along his shoulder as she went. "Can you show me more of that?"

  Morthisal turned in his seat to watch her go.

  He was tired, close to exhausted. His body ached, and he would like to take a nap while the rest of his reserves filled. In fact, lying his head back against the couch and napping sounded delightful.

  A garment flew out of the other room and landed on his lap. It was Yvette's shirt.

  She appeared in the bedroom doorway, wearing absolutely nothing. "Oh, Mr. Logan, I'm ready for you."

  Morthisal stood up from his chair without a second thought.