Accession of the Stone Born: The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles (16 page)

Andrew looked exasperated at my ignorance. “You haven’t got a clue what’s going on around you.”

Sitting at the table, I poured myself a scotch and gave him a look like he should damn well explain. “I don’t feel up to trying to decipher what you’re pissed about, so just tell me what I’ve done wrong and we can all move on already!”

Andrew threw his hands up in the air and gave Isidore a pleading look. “Kind of my point!”

Downing the drink, I poured a second. “I can see that you’re pissed off, but I don’t know why. Care to fill me in?”

Andrew came over and collapsed into the chair across from mine, then poured himself a drink and waved Isidore over. “I’m sorry for being ‘dramatic,’ as you call it, but after what you said about the attack outside and then the cane....” He gave me a dismissive wave.

Sipping my drink, I just stared at him blankly. “That wasn’t an attack so much as an attempt at terrorism. An attack would imply that he meant to hurt me.”

Isidore tossed the cane on the table. His impatience getting the better of him, he raised his voice several decibels. “He did!”

Andrew shot Isadore a nasty look as he pulled the broken cane towards him. “Let’s start with the cane.”

I finished my second drink and poured a third. “What about it?”

Andrew took a deep breath and took the tone that a parent would take with a petulant child. “Isidore and I have inspected it and determined it’s a focusing object, something those of us who wield ‘supernatural’ powers use.”

“Focusing object?”

Andrew ignored me and continued. “Most objects of this nature are something that the person would have on them all the time, such as a ring, or in this case a cane. Something that wouldn’t draw attention. It allows its owner to gather power and store it for later use.”

“All right,” I said. The lecture was nice, but the surge of energy from earlier was starting to fade and my patience was coming to an abrupt end.

Andrew sighed. “These objects are virtually impossible to destroy. When they are, very bad things tend to happen. It’s like setting off a tiny atomic bomb.”

I tilted my drink in his direction. “Then you’re wrong about it being a focusing object. I mean, sure there was a light show, but—”

“But nothing!” Isidore growled.

Andrew glared at him, and he fell silent. “But the fact that you were able to snap it like a twig and so little energy was lost leads me to entirely other questions.”

I stifled a yawn as sleep threatened to overtake me. “I’m exhausted. Can we get to something resembling a point?”

Andrew looked annoyed and more than a little put out by my ignorance. “The point is this house should’ve been leveled and we all should be very dead. Then there’s the sphere of shadows cast by your newest fan out front.”

Letting out a groan, I slammed my glass onto the table. “I keep telling you that wasn’t an attack. An annoyance sure, definitely creepy, but not an attack.”

Andrew got to his feet, utterly annoyed with me. I’d seen similar looks on my grandfather's face when he was about to prove a point at my expense. “Would you mind if I tried something?”

This wasn’t the first time someone had thought me too dense to understand words and resorted to the dreaded show and tell. “If it will let me get some sleep sooner rather than later, go for it.”

Andrew’s left hand suddenly glowed violet. He stood there a moment, letting the glow get brighter, and then slammed his palm against my chest. The light engulfed and blinded me for a few seconds before fading away. Andrew stumbled back, with sweat pouring off him and panting, barely able to stand.

I could barely see, my eyes ached, and now my head hurt even more. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. “What the hell?”

Andrew coughed and struggled for breath. “I don’t understand.”

My anger evaporated when my eyes cleared and I got a good look at my uncle. “Are you all right?”

Isidore was quickly behind him with a steady hand, ensuring he didn’t fall down, and helped Andrew into the seat. Andrew took a minute to catch his breath before looking at me. “I’ll be fine in a bit.” He coughed and took a big drink of tea before leaning back in his chair. “That’s very strange.”

I felt a new surge of energy running through me and I instantly perked up. “What was that?”

He still looked pale and tired, but his strength was returning. “That was a defense spell designed to repel one’s attacker.” He craned his neck as he pushed himself upright and color flooded back into his cheeks. “That obviously didn’t happen.”

“Obviously.”

He shivered for a moment. Every passing second he looked more and more normal. Both he and Isidore leaned forward and looked me over. “Odd,” Andrew said before looking back at Isidore. “Did you see that?”

Isidore’s face clouded with concern and curiosity, which forced him to lean in closer. “I think so, but what was it?”

Andrew looked genuinely puzzled. “Not the faintest idea.”

The surge of energy faded quickly and I was getting tired again. Not to mention my annoyance of being left out of the conversation. “Care to fill me in?”

Andrew snapped his head back as he fought to find the right words. “It was strange. It was as if a shadow passed over your features, slightly obscuring them, making them almost misty. I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired, but still it's odd.”

I felt my forehead furrow, considering the implications. The sudden burst of energy was now utterly gone and my uncle was looking normal again. “I’m tired, and you two have been up all night so I’m guessing you are as well. Maybe we should get some rest and talk about it after we get some sleep.”

Isidore kept a healthy distance as he shook his head in my direction and made the sign of the cross. “You’re a very strange man.”

Standing, I finished my drink. “You’re not the first to tell me that.” I headed to my room.

Andrew stood and yawned before nodding at Isidore. “Gavin’s right, we all need to get some rest. Would you be a doll and hang a sign letting everyone know we are closed for the day?”

Isidore nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

 

Chapter 10

 

 

 

It was just after noon when I rolled out of bed. My head ached, my back was sore, and the thin white scar itched. This was why I didn’t drink…I hated hangovers! The thing was, something in the back of my head told me this wasn’t a hangover, but had more to do with my fat friend and my uncle’s prodding last night. I couldn’t put my finger on it, mind you, but none the less the information was there even if I couldn’t figure out what to do with it.

I stepped out of the shower, and as I dressed my stomach growled. Rubbing my eyes as I headed down the hall, I heard Andrew and Isidore’s muffled voices in the living room. Pushing the kitchen door open I made my way to the fridge, rummaging for leftover enchiladas. Scooping out a couple onto a plate, I didn’t bother heating them. A few minutes later I patted my stomach and finished my tea before heading to the living room. I was not fit company when I was hungry.

Opening the door, I found we had company. Mrs. Broussard sat in one of the two chairs in front of my uncle’s desk. An older yet refined looking gentleman sat next to her, eyeing Isidore with great distaste. If I were a betting man I’d bet that this was Heather’s father, Robert.

Kimberly leaned forward in her chair, speaking to Andrew. “I’m grateful that your man Gavin was there, but Robert and I are at a loss as to why she was attacked. From what I saw she was clearly targeted.”

Andrew started to open his mouth when I decided to intervene. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Broussard. Am I to assume this is your husband?”

Kimberly and Robert turned their heads. She stood and her husband reluctantly followed. Her face lit up in greeting. “How’s that side of yours? I didn’t see in the reports that you’d gotten treatment.”

I patted my chest and gave her a casual roll of my shoulders. “After sitting for so long at the Elms and the cut being so shallow, I really didn’t need it.” For the record I’d only agreed not to lie to Heather; everyone else was fair game. “How’s Heather doing?”

Robert stepped around his wife, hand out, and that’s when it struck me that the man had to be a good foot shorter than myself. His voice had that grating tone of arrogance combined with entitlement, mixed together in equal measures. “I’m Robert.” Taking my hand in his, he gave me a weak, limp wristed, and moist handshake.

“I’m Gavin.”

Something about my tone—or perhaps it was the many calluses on my palm—caused him to jerk his hand back before wiping it on a convenient handkerchief. He sneered, tucking the white cloth into a pant pocket. “I know.”

Kimberly glared at the top of her husband’s head and she spoke over him. “Heather’s prognosis looks good. We believe she’ll make a full recovery.”

Robert scowled, his face purpling. “We were here asking why our daughter was attacked.” He gave me an appraising once over, and practically accused me of being at fault. “Would you happen to have any idea?” He waved his hand back at Andrew. “He clearly doesn’t know.”

It was a sad state of affairs when I’d known someone less than sixty seconds and I already want to throw them out a window. I took a deep breath and forced myself to remain calm. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Robert huffed, staring daggers through Isidore. “I’ve got at least one very good idea why she’d be attacked.” His anger and hatred flowed out of him, turning on Andrew. “And it’s all your fault for making her associate with his kind!”

Fury flared deep inside me. The man disrespected not only Andrew, but Isidore as well. Stepping between Isidore and Robert, I looked down at the man. “Care to be more specific about ‘his kind’?”

Robert looked appalled at being spoken to in such a manner, and quickly lumped me in with Isidore. “Let me guess; you’re one of the filthy beasts as well!”

It dawned on me he was angry about Isidore being a werewolf, and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing in the man’s face. “You have a problem with werewolves?”

Robert felt emboldened. He stepped forward, shoving a finger into my chest, sneering at me. “Werewolves! That implies your kind have a human form! You’re nothing but filthy dogs that need to be disciplined, or better yet put down so the rest of us don’t have to deal with your horrid stench!”

Kimberly grabbed her husband's shoulder and spun him around. “You forget where you are!”

Robert whipped his head around at Andrew. “Why should I bow to him when he associates with such filth?”

Kimberly stepped closer to her husband, her voice dropping. “I’ve put up with your bigotry for a long time, but you’ve stepped over the line.” She pointed at the broken door. “I think we need to go home and have a serious discussion.”

Robert glared at me and spat on the floor. “Filthy beast!”

It was everything I could do not to punch the man in the face, but that would be a waste of effort. His kind would never see the light no matter how hard I tried to beat it into him. So I changed gears and smirked at the man. “If that’s how you feel about werewolves, then count me in!” A cold rage flared in me, causing me to take a step forward. “Just remember, a filthy beast saved your daughter’s life last night! And considering it wasn’t even a hundred years ago that your kind was burned at the stake, I’d get off your fucking high horse!”

Robert snapped his head towards my uncle. “You’re going to let your dog talk to me like that? I should’ve never allowed you to train Heather.”

Kimberly glowered down at Robert and her voice threatened violence. “You didn’t allow her to do anything. It was on my blessing that she came here, and she will continue to do as she pleases.” She stepped away from the little man. “Soon you’ll be able to do the same.” She turned to Andrew and forced a smile. “I’m sorry you had to witness this.” She spun on her heel and headed for the door. “It’s time we left, Robert.”

Robert turned and pointed at the door. “This is what happens to your home when you let rabid dogs off their leash for too long!”

Kimberly’s heels were stamping out an angry rhythm as she went down the stairs. Robert, suddenly realizing he was alone with the three of us, hurried after her.

Fucking coward.

Andrew’s face contorted in amusement, irritation, and shock before he followed them out.

Isidore flopped into the chair Robert had vacated earlier and chuckled. “Why did you tell him you’re a werewolf? He’s going to hate you…even more than he would’ve. That piece of shit hates everyone!”

“Fuck him!” Plopping into the chair next to his, I felt disgusted by the racist. “And for the record, I never said I was a werewolf.” I flipped the empty doorway the bird. “I may have implied it, but it’s his own fault for making the assumption.” Turning to Isidore, I gave him a flat look. “Does everyone hate werewolves?”

That made Isidore grumble and he shook his head helplessly. “More do than don’t.”

I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. “So you’re a gay black man who happens to be a werewolf...God was having fun with you!”

Isidore eyes fluttered. “That’s why he made me so handsome.”

Andrew reappeared, shaking his head in complete disbelief, stepping through the broken door and heading for the desk. “Gavin, if I haven’t said this lately...I love you! God, I’ve wanted to tell that asshole off for years.”

Looking over at Isidore, I smiled. “And God made me irresistible.”

Andrew started to open his mouth but closed it, and held out his hands to stop any sort of explanation. “I don’t even want to know…don’t ruin the moment for me. All I want is to etch the look on Robert’s face in my memory.”

Looking at the busted door, I groaned. “I really need to fix that. Where’s the nearest hardware store?”

Andrew looked at me incredulously before forcing himself back to reality. “The local hardware store doesn’t exactly carry those in stock.” He gave it a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry…I’ve already called the maintenance man to come by. I’m sure he’ll have a new one up and in place by the time you get back.”

Pushing myself up straight, I gave my uncle a curious look. “Get back from where?”

Andrew pointed at Isidore and puffed out his chest. “Isidore will be taking you across the lake to the Archive to pick up a few things for me.” Andrew gave me a nonchalant wave of his hand. “And while you’re there you can register with Ms. Dodd. She’ll be expecting you.”

Isidore leaned forward and groaned, clasping his head in his hands in dread. He didn’t bother to look over at me when he spoke. “Thank God I’m driving, since I like air conditioning. I’ll need a cool place to sit while you register and collect whatever Andrew asked to be pulled.”

Okay, this was sounding like a setup. If they planned on having me lug down God knew how much shit on my own as some sort of haze the new guy, I simply wouldn’t play their game. “No need to have you sit out in the car. You’re welcome to come in and help while I fill out paperwork.”

That’s when I noticed Andrew shifting in his seat as if he were sitting on hot coals. His voice was low as he tried to hide his embarrassment. “He can’t help you…Isidore can’t step inside the Archive.”

Now this was really starting to sound like a load of crap to razz the new guy. I huffed, looking between the two as I asked the obvious question. “Really? Why not?”

Andrew shifted again, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. “He’s a werewolf, and as such can’t enter the Archive. It would kill him.” Anger crossed his face in a storm. “That’s why he’s driving you.” He hung his head, his voice still low. “If you were registered and knew the way I wouldn’t bother sending him, but since you're not and you don’t…you get Isidore as a guide.”

What the fuck? Seriously, the magical world was this far behind the game in equal rights? I looked over at Isidore and felt a little ill. “He’s joking, right? You two are just fucking with me, aren’t you?”

It was clear by the sour look on Isidore’s face that this was for real. Clearly he was more accustomed to being treated like a second rate citizen, but I could see it still pissed him off deep down. “Wish he was. To be honest, he may be sugarcoating the situation.”

I got the distinct feeling I’d traveled back in time several decades. The world obviously hadn’t moved forward on all fronts at an equal rate. Honestly, I shouldn’t have been all that surprised, things weren’t much different back home. I’d been at the receiving end of similar bigotry due to my mixed heritage. Once I was overseas people hated me just because I was American. It amazed me just how little one person needed to hate another.

I grumbled. “I’m not sure I want to be a part of the club if this is the way they’re going to act.”

Andrew held up a hand to try and reassure me. “I wish there was a choice in the matter, but there isn’t. Things are changing for the better.”

Isidore interjected. “Very slowly.”

Andrew cut his eyes at Isidore, who simply raised his hands dismissively and stepped back. “Very slowly,” he repeated. “But over the last twenty years’ things have actually changed for the better.” We both looked over at Isidore, who simply made a face that said yeah, things are better, not great but better. “The truth of the matter is you have to register…it’s the law.”

With a long breath, I put up my hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll register. I can only pray there isn’t too much paperwork involved.”

Andrew mumbled. “Not as much as there used to be.”

Isidore snickered. “It got changed twenty years ago when they had a mass influx of my kind. We may not be welcome inside the building, but we are at least granted a portion of citizenship in the Archive now.”

That was a start, I supposed, and much better than nothing at all. Considering how much I actually knew about the situation that didn’t exactly carry a lot of weight. “Nothing like having to fill out a bunch of paperwork to find a better way to do it.” Looking up at Andrew, I sighed. “Is it just werebeasts that can’t enter the Archive?”

Andrew looked serious. “There are a number of others. Some truly less than desirable creatures, such as demons, shapeshifters, and others who are not particularly social creatures.”

I was perplexed by Andrew’s attitude. “Seriously, you’re going to lump groups together as well?”

Isidore sat up straight and shook his head. “Before you get your panties in a bunch, you should remember that they are called demons for a reason. As for the shapeshifters, they are born into a fast life, and they burn through everything they can. They start life as grifters, thieves, and sell their services to the highest bidder. I’ve never even heard of one being remotely sane. Something about their makeup pretty much insures their insanity.”

With those words, I gave up. I wasn’t as sold on the idea of groups all being shitty, but it was obvious I didn’t have a chance here. “Fine. I’ll register. Just for the record though, I don’t like being earmarked like cattle.”

Andrew conceded the point with a small gesture. “Our kind have to give a little to get along with the humans and others that inhabit this world. Registering allows us to have access to our people when certain governmental agencies get involved, be it here in the States or elsewhere in the world.”

“Great.”

Isidore cut me off. “We better get on the road if we plan on getting back at a decent hour.”

The conversation being over, I grabbed a bottled water and followed Isidore downstairs. He drove a large silver extended cab pickup truck. It took a minute to get out of the Garden District due to the size of the vehicle and all the road construction. After we got on the interstate, it was smooth sailing across the Causeway Bridge that spanned Lake Pontchartrain to Covington, Louisiana.

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