
Beast Business
A Novella of Hidden Legacy
Available January 27, 2026
Augustine Montgomery is an Illusion Prime who owns a premier PI corporation and alters his appearance with magic. The people who have seen Augustine’s real face can be counted on the fingers of one hand. The people who witnessed the full extent of his power are dead. The illusion isn’t just the brand of his magic. It’s become his lifestyle.
Show as little as possible. Make them think that illusion is all you have. Your life depends on it.
Augustine lives by this creed. He’s cold, rational, and calculating. He doesn’t get emotionally involved. Then one day Diana Harrison walks into his office and asks for his help. Diana is a Prime, an animal mage who bonds with animals through her magic and prefers their company to humans. Something precious has been stolen from House Harrison. Something Diana must recover at all costs.
The two Houses are allied through a friendship pact. Assisting Diana is simply good business. And yet, there is something about her that disturbs the careful balance of Augustine’s inner world.
Neither of them is who they appear to be. Both would die to keep their secrets. But the enemy they face is more powerful than either had imagined, and saving the life that hangs in the balance will demand the ultimate price neither Augustine nor Diana ever anticipated to pay – complete honesty.
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Excerpt
In 1863, in a world much like our own, European scientists discovered the Osiris serum, a concoction which brought out one’s magic talents. These talents were many and varied. Some people gained the ability to command animals, some learned to sense water from miles away, and others suddenly realized they could kill their enemies by throwing lightning from their fingertips.
The serum spread through the world. It was given to soldiers in hopes of making the military forces more deadly. It was obtained by members of the fading aristocracy, desperate to hold on to power. It was bought by the rich, who desired to get richer.
Eventually the world realized the consequences of awakening godlike powers in ordinary people. The serum was locked away, but it was too late. The magic talents passed on from parents to their children and changed the course of human history forever. The future of entire nations shifted in the span of a few short decades. Those who previously married for status, money, and power now married for magic, because strong magic would give them everything.
Now, a century and a half later, families with strong hereditary magic have evolved into dynasties. These families—Houses, as they call themselves—own corporations, have their own territories within the cities, and influence politics. They employ private armies, they feud with each other, and their disputes are deadly. It is a world where the more magic you have, the more powerful, the wealthier, and the more prominent you are. Some magic talents are destructive. Some are subtle. But no magic user should be taken lightly.
This story is about three Houses bound together by a friendship pact:
House Montgomery, led by Augustine Montgomery, the head of Montgomery International Investigations, the largest and most powerful PI firm in the Southwest;
House Baylor, led by Catalina Baylor, who runs Baylor Investigations, a much smaller boutique PI firm;
And House Harrison, led by Diana Harrison, who views the Baylors as family and House Montgomery as steadfast allies.
Chapter 1
“As you know, Maria, the current state of the economy requires our company to develop agility in an effort to meet the rapidly changing realities of the marketplace.”
The HR manager smiled, her hand resting on a black folder with FINERGY etched in gold on it. She was in her forties. Her makeup was applied with technical precision. Her acrylic nails, translucent pink and of a professionally acceptable length, bore small white snowflakes, a nod to the holiday season. A rose quartz necklace dripped from her neck, each bead polished, matching the nails and the nearly transparent pink frames of her eyeglasses.
She seemed plastic, poured into a corporate mold, allowed to harden, extracted, polished, and then placed in the conference room, with her rigid smile and by-the-book hair. A kind of generic mass-produced middle manager.
The two men sitting on either side of her had come from the same factory and wore identical expressions of dutiful concern for the office drone they were about to cut loose. A united front, in case there were issues.
“In light of these developments, we’ve had to make some difficult decisions.”
The corporate we. Fun thing about polished plastic – it tended to be slick. Nothing stuck to it, responsibility included.
“We’ve decided to go in a different direction, Maria.”
First name basis, designed to provide an illusion of a personal relationship. We are all family here. Surely you understand. Nothing personal, Maria.
“You’ve been an asset to our team; however, we must reduce our overhead obligations.”
You are not a person, Maria. This was ridiculously badly handled. Painfully drawn out, full of empty platitudes. Just abysmal.
“We’ve chosen to let you go.”
Finally.
“Try not to see this as a setback, but rather a new opportunity to learn lessons and apply them in your future endeavors.”
No, not just badly handled. Gloriously badly handled, as if they had made it a point to hit every checkmark of what not to do when firing an employee. Now tell me you will walk me to the door…
“Cory will walk you to the door.”
And we have a home run.
“Good luck, Maria. We are rooting for you.”
The temptation to offer a golf clap was almost too much, but it would’ve been irresponsible under the circumstances. Arrangements like these came with certain expectations, and they had to be honored.
The box they offered was too large for the meager possessions living on the desk. Sweeping them into the box under Cory’s watchful gaze took mere seconds. An elevator ride followed, the mirror inside offering a reflection of Cory, stone-faced in a Brooks Brothers suit, looming over a woman in her thirties, olive-skinned, dark hair cut in a bob, Harper blouse from Torrid a size too large. Quite the contrast.
The trek across a wide lobby was next, complete with pitying glances from former co-workers, at once sympathetic and wary, as if instead of a defeated woman in business attire they had spied a leper in filthy rags and worried the disease might spread.
The glass doors of the Callas Tower swung open, offering freedom and overcast daylight. Cory walked out and planted himself in front of the door, ready to put his life on the line to protect the firm’s secrets in case the ex-employee decided to assault the building.
Too little, too late.
It was time for a dejected walk down the street and out of sight.
The city was going about its business, oblivious to the small tragedies of firings in the name of corporate agility. Thick grey clouds clogged the sky. It would start drizzling soon.
A gunmetal-grey BMW SUV slid closer to the curb, its electric motor nearly silent, and the rear passenger window slid down, revealing a woman’s face. She was beautiful in a quiet way. Light brown eyes, flecked with gold and framed by naturally long eyelashes. A lovely face. Chestnut hair, braided in a kind of updo that would have been too soft and romantic for the HR trio in the conference room.
Diana Harrison, Prime and the Head of House Harrison. She’d changed her hair color. It suited her better. Her usual blonde always felt soulless somehow. Too cold.
Diana tilted her head. “May I offer you a ride?”
“Do we know each other?”
She smiled without parting her lips. “Not closely, but it’s about to rain and your office is at least twenty minutes away.”
Oh. She knew. How?
There was no point in playing coy. “In that case, thank you. I’ll join you.”
A driver emerged, took the box, and opened the passenger door on the other side. Getting in took only a moment. A large red Doberman sat on the front passenger seat, strapped in by some strange seatbelt contraption, its gaze alert and watchful.
The dog could’ve picked up the scent and alerted, but not through a closed window. How did she know?
The car slid back into traffic.
Letting go was like a light, imaginary stretch. A brief effort, followed by a slight lessening of the load.
Gone was the olive skin, the short dark bob, the blouse, and the utilitarian black slacks. He was tall again, his regular persona firmly in place, familiar like an old glove. His true self still remained hidden, yet the new illusion was a tweak rather than an entirely new disguise. Like taking off a sweater but keeping the T-shirt on.
He stretched for real this time, working a kink out of his shoulders. The hunched posture had taken a bit of a toll.
He didn’t need to hunch, strictly speaking, but he always found that his illusions flowed better when he allowed himself to fully submerge into his assumed identity. After that barrage, most people in Maria’s place would either storm out defiantly or brace themselves, as if expecting to be punched. Storming out wouldn’t have achieved his goals.
Diana watched him with genuine fascination. He’d seen that reaction so many times, he should’ve been used to it by now, but coming from her it felt refreshing.
“A moment?”
Diana nodded.
He pulled his cell phone out of his Zegna suit and selected his second-in-command from the contact list. Zachary answered instantly.
“Here.”
“Dump FINERGY.”
“Understood.”
He ended the call, tossed one long leg over the other, and smiled.
“I believe I will dump FINERGY as well,” Diana said.
“Professionally, no comment. Personally, off the record, I highly recommend it. They are engaged in cybersecurity fraud. The latest crop of drones they brought to the market and sold to multiple law enforcement agencies has severe software issues. Allegedly.”
“How severe?”
“A child with a LeapFrog tablet could hack one. They just fired the specialist who brought the problem to their attention two months ago.”
“You assumed her identity?”
He nodded. The scale of the fraud was massive enough that the real Maria’s safety was a concern. He’d spent the last week dutifully going to the office in her place. Normally, he would’ve sent one of his subordinates, but his House’s investment in FINERGY was considerable, and he wanted to assess the state of things for himself.
Diana tapped her phone.
Tomorrow one of the biggest law firms in Houston would file the qui tam lawsuit against FINERGY, alleging violations of the False Claims Act, and Maria would become one of the most famous whistleblowers on record. If the government chose to join the suit, she would be entitled to about twenty percent of recovered damages. Considering the extent of FINERGY’s transgressions, she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a new job for some time.
Diana finished and put her phone down. “Now I’m in your debt, Prime Montgomery.”
“Not at all. We never spoke of this.” He slid his glasses a little higher on his nose. “Please, call me Augustine. Now then, what can MII do for House Harrison?”
Diana hesitated. It was very brief, but he’d been trained to observe people carefully, noting minute changes in expression.
“I want to hire you.”
“Me specifically or MII in general?”
“Both.”
Intriguing. “In what capacity?”
Another slight hesitation. There was something deceptively delicate about Diana. She was a small woman, short and petite. The contours of her face were soft, her features classically attractive: large, light brown eyes flecked with gold and green, a small, slightly upturned nose, a full mouth with a bare hint of pink lipstick. She looked as if she was teetering on the edge, torn between wanting to keep her secret and asking for help. She could’ve played a princess in a medieval drama, the kind of princess who had suffered an injustice and needed a strong ally and who would inspire the audience to root for her.
It was a front. Augustine was absolutely sure of it. If he became an enemy, Diana Harrison would attempt to kill him without a moment’s hesitation. She was trying to entice him to help her and make her request a priority, and she was very subtle about it.
Common wisdom held that animal mages didn’t understand human emotions. Interacting with Cornelius, Diana’s brother, had convinced Augustine that there were exceptions to that rule. Apparently, Diana was cut from the same cloth.
He knew a great deal about her, and at the same time very little. They’d met on three occasions prior to today, and his longest interaction with Diana happened when they signed the pact of friendship between their two Houses. The alliance was initiated by Cornelius, who had become convinced that having powerful connections was the best way to keep his daughter safe. As the Head of her House, Diana was the only one with the authority to sign off on it, so they had met to negotiate.
Entering a pact of friendship was a no-brainer. While most Houses viewed animal mages as having limited power with few practical applications, to an illusion House there was no greater threat. He’d been delighted to neutralize it. His people had done a deep dive into House Harrison and found nothing of concern. On all three occasions he’d interacted with Diana, her demeanor was neutral, pleasant, and opaque. She had negotiated in good faith. This manipulation was delightfully new.
“Whether or not we come to an agreement, anything and everything you tell me is confidential,” he said.
“Something has been stolen from us,” she said.
“And you need me to find the culprit and recover it?”
Diana nodded.
“Why MII? Pardon me for stating the obvious, but you have access to House Baylor through your brother.”
“The Baylors can’t be involved in this matter,” she said.
Curiouser and curiouser.
His own relationship with House Baylor was complicated. At one point, before the Baylors became a House and were just a small PI agency, he owned the mortgage on their business. Back then their relationship was almost purely adversarial. Later they came to regard each other as allies, especially once Connor Rogan, the closest thing he had to a friend, married Nevada Baylor. The Baylors kept their word, and as long as he kept his, their loyalty and support were assured.
Either way, he had to draw the line now. As much as he valued the Harrisons, his House’s relationship with the Rogans mattered more. It wasn’t an alliance he was willing to endanger.
“Are the Baylors suspects?”
“No. They had nothing to do with this.”
“And they don’t know anything about it?”
Diana shook her head.
He saw it now. She baited the hook, offering him just enough information to ignite his curiosity, and waited for him to bite. Diana Harrison, a patient and careful fisherwoman.
In strict terms, their friendship pact was a non-aggression alliance, meaning that both Houses agreed to refrain from acting against each other. Mutual favors were not included but were customary in such arrangements. The disparity in their wealth, connections, and resources was significant, and yet House Harrison had asked for his help only once, when they needed him to pick up Matilda, Cornelius’ daughter, and secure her safety until Diana came to retrieve her.
Very well. Why not? He could play a knight in shining armor, if the compensation was significant enough, and Diana had offered payment in the right kind of currency. Most investigative work was profitable and boring. This promised to be interesting. He liked knowing secrets, and any secret hidden from the Baylors was worth knowing.
“Shall we discuss the details in my office?” he asked.
She offered him a beautiful smile.
#
Augustine’s office lay on the seventeenth floor. He’d chosen that location precisely because it was just under the top two floors. The eighteenth floor held a private training space. The penthouse business suite above it belonged to his late father. From the moment Augustine officially took the reins of MII, he resolved to never enter it again, and he hadn’t set foot there in years.
The elevator doors whispered open, and he invited Diana forward with a sweep of his hand. They walked across the spotless dark blue floor through his kingdom of tall white walls and cobalt-tinted light streaming through the sheath of blue windows that wrapped the building.
He watched Diana’s expression covertly. Her face was relaxed and pleasant, her eyes calm. Prime Harrison moved with smooth grace, almost gliding across the floor, and the Doberman at her side matched her stride. The dog’s natural ears were down, her mouth half-open in a canine smile. He had seen enough Dobermans in his line of work. They were cautious dogs, alert and restrained in a new environment. This one was doing a fine impression of a golden retriever. There was an odd synergy between the woman and the dog – both sleek, assured, and pretending to be harmless.
They reached his office, where Lina sat at a pristine desk, presenting the last line of defense to the visitors. The desk was crafted from polished metal with a single white orchid growing from a simple pot. His secretary chose to match the orchid today. A white dress hugged her body, perfectly tailored and form-fitting, yet elegant. Her deep emerald hair, wrapped in a trendy twist, shimmered with peridot highlights. Her eyebrows were black and shaped with laser precision, and she had selected green and black to accent her eyes and mauve to tint her lips. As always, the effect was stunning.
Unfortunately, his newest intern had referred to that precise shade of mauve as “hot dog lips,” and now he could not divorce himself from it. Mentoring the youngest Baylor child came with its own annoyances.
He nodded to Lina and led his visitor to the right, where a translucent wall of white glass hid his office space. A nearly seamless door swung open, and Augustine invited Diana in with a sweep of his hand. She entered and sat in a chair, smoothing the skirt of her elegant grey business suit with a practiced gesture. The Doberman dropped on the floor to her right. Not a concern in the world.
Augustine sat behind his desk. His office was located in the corner where two walls of blue glass met at an angle, and from his vantage point, he had a wide view of Downtown Houston. Unlike most people, he loved heights.
Diana glanced at a sign on the right wall, a quote without attribution. Trust Not Too Much in Appearances.
“Virgil,” she said.
It appeared that House Harrison believed in a classical education.
“It’s a reminder,” he said.
“To you or to the visitors?”
“To me. We do our best to convince our visitors that we are trustworthy.”
“Is that why you chose a modern aesthetic for the building?”
He nodded. “Most people who want to hire an illusion mage come to us unsure what they might find. Consciously or subconsciously, they expect to be deceived. Our business requires trust, so we keep the interior simple, almost austere. Long unbroken walls, concrete floors, and transparent glass leave little room for illusions. People find it reassuring.”
“I see.”
She wasn’t giving him very much to work with.
“Are you truly trustworthy, Prime Montgomery?”
“That depends on your definition of trust. Will I keep everything you tell me confidential, and will I do everything in my ability to help you if we reach an agreement? Yes.” Augustine leaned back in his chair. “So, how may I help you?”
“Are you familiar with Zeus?”
“The Greek god or your brother’s tiger?”
“The tiger.”
She took a slim tablet from her purse, flicked her fingers across it, and showed it to him. On the screen, a massive animal stretched, vaguely feline, a distant cousin of a tiger if tigers had blue fur splattered with darker and paler rosettes and a fringe of six-inch long tentacles around their necks.
All the magic talents in the world fit into three broad categories: elemental, mental, and arcane. Of the arcane discipline, summoning was one of the least understood. Summoners reached into the arcane realm, a place of magic outside of normal reality, called forth monstrous creatures, and hurled these biological weapons at their opponents. Nobody knew exactly how any of it worked and the summoners were not forthcoming with explanations.
Zeus had been summoned by someone attacking one of the Baylors’ clients, and Cornelius had tamed it against all odds. Augustine had looked into it after the incident. No animal mage on record had even been able to bond with a summoned beast. Cornelius was the only exception.
That bond somehow kept Zeus alive and thriving. Creatures summoned by weaker summoners vanished when they lost focus. The summons of the upper level Significants and Primes stayed in the world permanently, but most summoned creatures had short lifespans, even with the best of care. They withered, like repotted plants that failed to take root. Sometimes it took days, sometimes weeks, but eventually all arcane creatures perished. With the exception of the organisms that were planted into a human host.
“We decided to call the species Tigrionex.”
Tigris, Latin for tiger and nex meaning violent death. “Tiger of slaughter?”
“Yes.” Diana slid her finger across the tablet. Another image appeared, still of Zeus. Wait, no. This blue tiger was slightly different. It looked a little smaller, and its blue fur had a slight purple tint.
Augustine glanced at Diana. “You obtained a second tiger?”
She nodded. “Cornelius and I had her summoned at great expense.”
The cost must’ve been astronomical.
“Her name is Celeste. I was able to form a pact.”
“Not Hera?”
“No. We didn’t want to jinx it.”
House Harrison had access to two summoned beasts, and both of them had bonded to their tamers. Clearly, there was something special about that family.
“Zeus and Celeste were allowed to mate. Before you ask, it was voluntary on their part. We would never exercise our influence over our animals to force a breeding. It was a difficult pregnancy.”
“What about cloning or surrogacy?” he asked.
“That would have meant taking the choice away from them.”
So they would risk a massive investment for the sake of maintaining the animals’ autonomy. Interesting.
“We almost lost the mother, but in the end a single cub was born.”
Another swipe of her fingers, and a new image. A shockingly adorable blue cub. He understood the need for secrecy now. If anyone found out about this, the Harrisons would be swarmed with requests.
“What’s the cub’s name?”
“Kitty.”
He blinked.
“It’s a placeholder name. We were hoping that when Kitty grew a little, Matilda would form a pact with her. My niece is very talented, and she sounds mature, but she is still a nine-year-old child. She makes reckless decisions. Cornelius and I will do everything in our power to protect her, but we cannot be everywhere at once.”
And Kitty would grow up to be a formidable protector.
“These animals are different. They are smarter, more aware, and the bond with them is deeper,” Diana said. “Every species is different when it comes to forming a connection. Tigers are solitary and self-sufficient. They have to be coaxed. Lions are clingy and social. They reach out. The tigrionex like us, Augustine. They are curious about humans. They seek the bond, and they are persistent about it.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“We don’t know. But rebuffing an animal that seeks to bond that intensely is difficult. It feels unnatural. Especially when you are Matilda’s age.”
From the way she made it sound, if the child and the cub came in contact, the bond process would happen almost involuntarily.
Diana shifted in her chair, sliding one leg over the other. It wasn’t a calculated movement, but he had to make a conscious effort not to linger on the lines of her body. The last time they’d met, it had been like that, too. He’d dismissed it as a passing attraction then, but it was worse now, with her in his client chair.
“Because of the difficult pregnancy, we decided to wait to introduce Matilda and the cub. We want to make sure Kitty survives. If Matilda bonds with her and the cub dies, the trauma to my niece would be catastrophic. That’s why the Baylors can’t be involved in this matter. In the two months since they moved into their new compound, Matilda made friends with every mouse and bird on their property. She spies on them constantly. Nothing happens in that house that my niece doesn’t know about.”
“Can she hear through mouse ears?” he asked.
Diana looked at him for a second. “Vikilinta recording devices are one inch long, have the width of a pencil graphite, and weigh 19 grams. They’re voice-activated and record up to 400 hours of audio. A healthy adult mouse weighs between 40 and 45 grams, can carry twice her body weight, and can be convinced to wear a harness.”
And now he felt like a fool. What in the world was he thinking? The child was a budding Prime, not a mythical Beastmaster. Something about the connection between the tech and animals always short-circuited his brain.
“Of course. However, I can’t imagine the Baylors would look favorably on that kind of security breach.”
“I’ve stressed the need for privacy to her multiple times,” Diana said. “I do not believe her obsessive recording is malicious.”
“Then why?”
Diana sighed. Her face took on a slightly worn expression. “It is my understanding that a child subjected to early trauma, such as losing a parent in a horrific way, often seeks to establish control over her environment.”
“Matilda is afraid that she will miss something vital and the people she cares about will die.”
“Yes. You see now why we hid the cub.”
He understood perfectly.
“Matilda keeps the information she overhears confidential, unless something alarms her. For example, I know that Arabella visits this office twice a week, and she hasn’t told her mother or Catalina about it.”
Diana’s gaze turned direct and unblinking. The Baylors treated Matilda and Cornelius as family. She likely felt protective toward them. He wasn’t obligated to explain, but good business relationships relied on trust.
Augustine reached into his desk, took out a folder, and offered it to her.
Diana glanced at the contents. “Internship agreement signed by Nevada Rogan?”
“My sister attends Donovan High.” Normally he had a knee-jerk reaction to speaking about his family but for some reason it didn’t trigger in her presence.
Diana’s eyebrows rose. “Donovan? Not Heritage?”
Of the two high schools catering to the magically gifted, Heritage was far more prestigious. If you were a scion of a House, you went to Heritage, while Donovan took the rest.
“Yes. She attends under an assumed name.”
And an assumed persona. If Verena’s classmates ever met her off school grounds, they wouldn’t recognize her. Except for Arabella, none of them had any idea what his sister truly looked like.
“The principal and the senior staff are aware of who she is,” he continued. “My sister wanted it this way, and I acquiesced. Let’s just say that I understand what drives Matilda better than most people.”
An understatement of the year.
“Arabella also attends Donovan,” Diana said.
“Yes. They are friends.” The strangest friendship that sprouted from a bizarre crisis. “They’re both taking an AP course in House Business Administration, which requires 160 hours of internship with a business owned by a House other than your family.”
“You swapped,” Diana said. “The Rogans took your sister, and you took Arabella.”
He nodded. “It’s an arrangement that works for both children. I know that Connor and Nevada will not put my sister in harm’s way, and they understand that I will do the same for Arabella. Feel free to reassure Matilda. Shall we return to the matter at hand?”
Diana studied him for another moment and turned the tablet toward him. On it, a fat fluffy tiger cub took shaky steps on stubby legs. She stumbled over to her frightening mother and batted at the otherworldly beast with her small paw. Celeste lowered her head. The cub tried to pounce, fell, and let out a frustrated noise, a tiny baby growl.
“You understand that the recovery may require significant investment even with the discount,” he said. “Do you wish to see an estimate?”
“No. Whatever it takes. We will pay it.”
“Are you sure?” The Harrisons were a House, but their talents didn’t have many lucrative applications.
“Absolutely. This isn’t property, Prime Montgomery. This is a life.” Diana brushed her fingers over the recording. “We welcomed Kitty into this world, we assumed responsibility for her, and now she is scared and alone. Celeste knows that her daughter is gone. She relies on me to bring her home. Whatever it takes.”
A digital timer appeared in the corner of the screen, counting off seconds. Twenty-two hours, seventeen minutes, and twenty-three seconds.
“The time until Kitty needs the next shot of her medicine,” Diana said. “Will you help me?”
He looked into her green and gold eyes, and the words came out before he realized he had spoken. “Of course, I will.”

