Accession of the Stone Born: The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles (17 page)

When we came off the bridge, it was painfully obvious by the smooth roads, copious amounts of shops, and higher end retailers that this was the wealthier side of the lake. Sure, New Orleans had the Garden District, but the Northshore had several small cities and villages that were almost equal in splendor. It was clear that New Orleans was the “old money” side of the equation, while the North Shore was all about the “new money.”

Isidore’s demeanor changed from happy and carefree to nervous and almost paranoid. Both hands gripped the wheel, and he never so much as broke a traffic law once we were off the Causeway. It was clear to see that being this close to the Archive made him very nervous. I had to wonder how many years he’d been forced to live that way before things changed to what they were now. And was the here and now all that better?

Several twists and turns later we pulled up outside St. Tammany Parish Justice Center/ 22nd Judicial District Court Office. It was a large, generic looking, multi-story brick and tan stucco building that looked like every other modern courthouse I’d seen over the last thirty or forty years. It was as if the United States had purposely chosen to build the new court system in the blandest, dullest way possible.

Isidore pulled around to 26th street, where he found a parking spot at the farthest end of the lot. Sweat beading up on his forehead, he gripped the wheel with one hand and pointed with the other. “The Archive is on the 3rd floor.” He pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to me. “You’ll need to give Ms. Dodd this for your uncle. After that she’ll get you the files and books he’s ordered.” An afterthought occurred to him and he pointed at the glove box. “I was saving this for a rainy day, but its usefulness is about to run out.”

Pushing the button on the compartment, it popped open. “What am I looking for?”

He pointed at a clear plastic case containing a blank looking CD. “That’s a copy of Bon Jovi’s upcoming album due out next month.”

I pulled it out and flipped it over in my fingers with more than a little confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this? I’m not exactly a big Bon Jovi fan.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not for you, idiot! Give it to Ms. Dodd. It’ll earn you tons of brownie points!”

Flipping the CD over in my hands, I felt a little weirded. “All right...want me to tell her it’s from you?”

His eyes nearly bugged out in panic and he looked around the parking lot, making sure we were alone. “Not unless you want to get thrown in jail.” He was fidgeting as he glanced around again. “And if you could hurry I’d be very grateful.”

I unbuckled the seatbelt and pushed open the door. “Thanks.”

It took less than a minute to cross the lot before I stood in front of the generic plate glass doors that led into the courthouse. I had to take off my boots, ring, and belt, and empty my pockets before I could pass through the metal detector. Once I was dressed again, I looked around the bland lobby and sighed. How goddamn boring!

I took the stairs up to the third floor two at a time and stepped out into the unimpressive landing covered in peel and stick squares of blue carpet. The place had that new building smell that was a combination of paint, glue, plaster, and cement. The floor gave me the willies; I didn’t see or hear a soul stirring. It was as if I’d found myself on an abandoned floor, but a few seconds later I saw my destination. The large glass walls showed one after another in yet a further example of boredom in office design.

One of the offices midway down had all their shades dropped and closed. Stenciled on the plate glass door was the word Archive in big gold lettering. Trying not to yawn, I pulled the door open and stepped inside. The interior lighting nearly blinded me as it reflected off the surgical white walls, floors, and ceiling. The room consisted of a small waiting area, a heavy steel security door leading into what I could only assume was the Archive, and an ancient metal desk that sat at the far side of the room.

Ms. Elizabeth Dodd sat at the desk, and looked simultaneously irritated and nauseous, her gray eyes fixated on me. She wasn’t what I’d consider attractive, with shoulder length wavy mouse brown and white hair. Adjusting her horn rimmed glasses, she wiped her fingers on a nearby napkin and waited. It was clear that she expected me to go away if she didn’t address me.

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. When she spoke, her voice was full of contempt and arrogance, mixed with just the right amount of disgust to let me know she wasn’t pleased I’d forced her to speak. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve clearly got the wrong office.”

Nothing about her tone or demeanor told me she was in the least bit sorry. I resisted the urge to walk across the room and give her a good solid slap across the face. Exactly how would I explain to my uncle that I’d slapped the prefect before uttering a single word to her? Instead, I plastered on a smile and reached for the letter I’d put in my back pocket. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

She closed her eyes, shaking her head as if it were taking all of her willpower not to scream at me to get out. “You obviously didn’t hear me when I said you were in the WRONG office.”

This time the annoyance was gone, replaced by something more dangerous.

Making sure I didn’t make any sudden movements, I stepped closer and handed her the envelope from Andrew. I made sure that I kept the animosity off my face, trying to be as pleasant as possible. “Andrew Randall sent me over to pick up a few things.” His name made her sit up straight and pay attention. “He implied that he’d called ahead, and told me there would be some items I needed to pick up.”

Ms. Dodd kept a wary eye on me as she took the envelope out of my hand. She opened it and scanned over its contents before placing it face down on her desk. Then she glanced at the letter and back at me. Her eyes focused in on my left hand as she pointed. “What happened there?”

By chance it was the same hand I was holding the CD with, and I placed it gently on her desk. “I come bearing gifts.”

She raised an eyebrow at the CD. “And just what is that?”

“It’s an advance copy of Bon Jovi’s new album.”

Ms. Dodd blew air through her nose in disbelief. Picking up the CD, she stepped closer to the combination CD alarm clock at the far end of her desk. She put it in and hit play, and smiled as soon as Jon’s voice came over the speakers. “Where did you get it?”

Relieved that she’d forgotten my hand, I stood up straight. “A good man never reveals his secrets.”

Her eyes twinkled with delight. “Is there anything else before I get Andrew’s order?”

I felt stupid and even more than a little embarrassed when I spoke. “Andrew mentioned that I would need to register with you before returning to New Orleans.”

She glowered, shoving a finger onto the stop button of the player. “That isn’t funny.”

Her response took me by surprise, and I stammered, “I wasn’t trying to be funny. He insisted that I register today.”

Her face turned sour, and she scrunched up her nose as if I’d shit on the floor. “I was willing to let this ‘incident’ go without complaint, but this is too far over the line! You inform Mr. Randall that I’ll be lodging a formal complaint about this! I don’t care who he is! He can’t just send humans into my office asking to be registered!”

What the fuck was her goddamn problem?

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

Her pale skin flushed the slightest shade of pink as she shoved her pudgy finger in my direction. “You damn well should be!” Her face continued to darken as it twisted itself into utter disgust at the sight of me. “You tell Andrew that I don’t appreciate him sending monkeys to my office.”

I was so lost. What the hell was she talking about? “Monkey?”

She glared, rubbing two fingers across her forearm, and whispered. “It’s sad how little your kind knows, filthy fucking humans!” She waddled off to the back without another word, and returned a few seconds later with two bankers boxes and slammed them against the desk. “I shouldn’t let you have this, but since the mutt can’t come up and collect them, you’ll have to do. Make sure you don’t damage anything!”

And there it was. Not only did these people hate werewolves, shapeshifters, and other less desirables of their own kind, but they seemed to really hate humans.

I picked up the boxes and gave her my best smile. “Thanks for trusting me with such an important task,” I said with as much contempt and sarcasm as I could muster.

It was clear she hadn’t heard it, and she almost smiled as if she were looking at a retarded child. “It’s always so cute when monkeys learn their place.” She shooed me away. “Now go before I change my mind.”

I’d wanted to slap the tubby little bitch when I walked in, and now I wanted to punch her. I refrained, however, as I wasn’t sure how I’d ever explain my actions to Andrew, or Isidore for that matter. He was nervous as it was, and that would just push him over the edge.

Exiting the building, I found an animal control truck parked next to Isidore’s truck, with the driver sitting in his vehicle taking notes. Opening the door and putting the boxes behind my seat, I climbed in.

Thumbing back at the driver of the next car. “What the fuck does he want?”

Isidore rolled his eyes. “Ms. Dodd thought it would be amusing to have animal control check the lot for a dog locked in a silver truck.”

What a fucking whore. This woman was unfucking believable. “From the sounds of things though, she likes you far more than me.”

Isidore shot me a strange look. “How do you figure that?”

Once again I felt embarrassed and slightly ashamed. “When I asked to register she got all worked up and started calling me a monkey. That’s the second person to do that today.”

Isidore’s eyes bulged as he nearly choked on his drink. “She thinks you're human?”

I looked out the window as we pulled off into traffic. “Apparently, and they don’t register my ‘kind’ there.” Chewing on my lip, I sighed.  “I think I got Andrew into some hot water as well. She said she was going to file some sort of formal complaint.”

He burst out laughing, gunning the car to pull into the far lane of traffic. “That’s rich! Andrew’s going to have her ass if she does.”

That comment caught me off guard, and I turned to look at Isidore. “How is that going to happen? Isn’t she the prefect?”

Isidore snorted. “First off, you’re not human; that much is painfully clear to anyone caring enough to dig below the surface. The fact that she refused to register you will put her in far more trouble than anything she could possibly whine about.” He thumbed back at the boxes. “That’s some research material to help him figure out who and what you are.” His fit of laughter completely subsided. “As for how Andrew will take her down a notch or two, that is an entirely different story. One person or another has been after him since he became governor back in ’71, and after ‘95 people are beyond pissed.”

The last comment didn’t register. “Since when did Andrew have shit to do with Louisiana politics?”

Isidore tore his eyes off the road and stared at me for a full second like I was the dumbest person on the planet. “What?”

“The governor of what, exactly?” I asked.

Isidore glanced over at me, trying to see if I was joking or not. Then realization crossed his face. “Holy shit, you don’t know, do you?”

I threw up my hands in such a manner that made it clear that I didn’t. “Know what?”

Isidore snorted and he fought back more laughter. “Andrew is the governor of North America, and answers directly to Lazarus. Anyone filing a complaint against him will have to do so at their own peril! Lazarus doesn’t take well to insubordination.” His features turned serious. “And I would prefer to piss off just about anyone up to and including every prefect in the US before I’d piss off your uncle. He’s a dangerous man.”

I sat there dumbfounded, trying to assimilate the information. “Andrew is the governor of North America?”

Isidore was exceptionally amused at my ignorance. “Yeah.”

I tried to sort through the chart I’d seen in the book, and it dawned on me then why he even had it. Lazarus had given it to him. “Is that why Robert and Kimberly were at the house today?”

Isidore frowned when he recalled the incident. “Yeah, they are both on the triumvirate. The two of them broke protocol by bypassing the prefect, Ms. Dodd, and speaking to a higher authority, the governor.”

I remembered how Robert had spoken to Andrew and I got angry. “I thought Robert was there just to yell at you, and if Andrew is so important why would he speak to him in such a way?”

Isidore’s frown deepened. It was clear that he didn’t like the man or anything to do with him. “Robert is part of the old guard. He lost a lot of power when Andrew took over. He’d enslaved an entire clan of werebears and was forced to release them from service because of Andrew. He’s hated him ever since.”

“Wow! That guy's a bigger asshole than I’d thought.”

Isidore snickered. “You don’t know the half of it, but ever since then people have been gunning for your uncle.”

“This isn’t the first time someone’s tried to kill him then?” I asked.

Isidore shook his head. “Andrew doesn’t get angry often, but when he does bad things happen on a pretty big scale. The last time someone came for him Andrew buried the man’s entire family just to make a point. No one has openly moved against him since then. That was thirty years ago.”