“Ah, Mr. Brimstone,” a neatly dressed older man, in a white collected shirt and brown suspenders with a graying comb over looked at us over sunken eyes in the dimly lit yet elegant speakeasy. “The usual?”

  Isaac nodded, before turning to me, expectantly.

  I raised a brow. “Yes?”

  “What can I get you?” Isaac brooded.

  “Why? Do I look like I need something?”

  Isaac raised his own brow, somewhat playfully, tilting his head with disbelief in my statement.

  I smirked. “Something heavy.”

  “W.L.W neat...”Isaac said, “for the both of us.”

  “Huh?” I said aloud.

  “Right away sir,” the bartender affirmed and got to work.

  “Bourbon,” Isaac continued, “said you wanted something heavy.”

  I nodded. “That’ll do.”

  We sat in quiet for moments, unsure of what each of us should say, until our drinks arrived. Isaac, slipped a crisp hundred dollar bill from out of nowhere and folded it across, handing it to the bartender.

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  “Thank you sir,” the bartender bowed humbly.

  Isaac nodded appreciatively himself and grabbed both of our drinks as we receded into darker corners of the barely half full speakeasy, finding a small booth in the back.

  Gently placing our drinks on the oaken table, Isaac offered me the seat across from him, as we sat down.

  Looking at each other awkwardly, I took a swig from my drink and was hit with a powerful, yet refined wave. “Woah,” I squinted, “nothing like that drink at Denaux’s.”

  “I should think not,” Isaac smiled, swirling the drink himself and let his nose be enveloped by it as he took in its scent, before sipping. Relaxation washed over his face as the drink went down his soft lips smoothly, which was all I could focus on.

  “Denaux showed quite the foresight bring you back.”

  “That’s it? Starting off strong. That’s the way to win a girl’s heart.”

  “Do you want me to take your heart?” Isaac looked stoic, yet an intoxicating bemusement crossing his pursed lips.

  I exhaled harshly. “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Are you sure?” Isaac leaned in closer.

  I hesitated, leaning back, taking another sip from my drink and trying to hide my thoughts. I was sure...wasn’t I?

  “What was all that back there?” I turned the conversation around. “That taking your name stuff too?”

  Isaac sat back, exhaling roughly as his own mind ventured elsewhere. “That...thing is just a blood puppet of Perrault’s. He created it with dark magic and uses it primarily as a mouth piece, along with handling his more...personal business. It had no name to begin with, but adds them on with each target. A slight to my family. He took my great grandfather, and my uncle. His next target was Callum. He takes on the names of each next on his list.”

  “So that means...” I sat in tragic thought, as the monstrousness swirled in my mind.

  “That’s right, Callum is his next target. That’s why he goes by Mr. Callum right now. It’s a nefarious jest...but we won’t let that happen.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, instinctively putting a hand atop his. We both looked somberly, yet emotionally at each other, before I retracted it quickly, embarrassed.

  “Perrault has taken much from our family, and leaves more personal targets for himself. He practically stole our livelihood, but he wants more...much more.” Isaac took a large gulp from his drink. “One cannot sate such a beast. We’ve tried, our family, for generations, to stop him. Only now are we realizing, that we may have a chance. With you...of course.”

  “Me!?” I choked down my own drink in surprise. “What can I do that you and your brothers can’t do already?”

  “You’ve already proven some power over him. We have to find out why and how...maybe we can harness it to finally end his reign of terror. To correct our family’s mistake.”

  “Mistake?” I said. “What happened?”

  Isaac sighed and quieted for a moment. “The Curse of the Brimstone family,” he continued, “that monster turned us into what we are...but we...we created him."