Accession of the Stone Born: The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles (32 page)

Keeping my voice low, I dared a grin. “Think we could keep all this between us?”

He pounded back another gulp of vodka before fixing me with a straight face. “Well, with all the friends I have hanging around I’m not sure how that’s going to be possible.”

Sarcasm, fantastic.

“Thing is, if we are going down the path I think we are, your secret will be out sooner rather than later,” he said.

If we were going down that path, there would be an army of necromancers blocking the way, and I didn’t care if they knew who I was or not. I’d only met one of their ilk and I already didn’t like them.

With a tired shake of my head, I shrugged. “Maybe, but right now I’ve got other problems.”

Gabriel gave me a look that told me he understood, yet wished to reassure me. “I’ll keep your secret and my promise to serve as Caesar’s centurion.”

I was not sure why but the words gave me comfort. “Thanks.” Looking over at the clock, I turned back to Gabriel. “Will you be all right?”

He gave me a drunk sneer and a wave of his hand. “I’ll be fine. We nephilim heal quickly, even from learning that our new friend is a reaper.”

Friend? I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had a friend. It wasn’t like anyone from the reservation qualified. The most I could hope for there was silent animosity. This was a first for me and it felt good. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend before…I like it.”

Gabriel snorted into his drink. “That would make two of us.” He held his glass up. “To new friends.” He nudged the bottle and sucked on his lip. “Next time you come back, think you could bring a bottle?”

I sniggered. “Of course!” With a big thumbs up, I headed for the door. “I’ve got some reading to do in the office before I head back.”

His eyes were glassy and he looked exhausted. “The fight earlier and maybe the booze after have taken its toll on me.” Getting to his feet, he made to follow me out. “I’m going to crash for the night.”

With a small nod I headed back to the office. By the time I finished putting everything away it was nearly eight Sunday morning. I was sure that Andrew would have questions. It was then that I realized that living with my uncle wouldn’t work for the long haul. After this was over I’d need to find something of my own so I could come and go as I saw fit without having to answer to anyone.

Piling into the Tucker I drove home. Needless to say I was exhausted, grumpy, and generally giving zero fucks about anyone. I desperately needed a hot shower, a decent meal, and a good solid eight hours of sleep. I guessed two out of three wasn’t bad, but the sleep would need to come sooner rather than later.

To my surprise Alexander wasn’t at the gate when I arrived. Instead, two of his clan pulled the gates open, and quickly closed them behind me. A bright red BMW was parked in front of the garage, which meant we had guests. I pulled in and parked, doing my best not to block anyone in before heading upstairs.

About halfway up I heard the unmistakable voice of Elizabeth Dodd yelling her displeasure at what I could only guess was my uncle. Pushing the door open, I had the unfortunate view of Ms. Dodd’s backside as she ranted at my uncle, who sat at his desk. Alexander and Isidore stood flanking him, ensuring the vampire didn’t have a chance to harm him.

She turned on me the instant the door opened. Recognition flickered in her eyes and she pointed an accusing chubby finger in my direction. “About time your filthy human errand boy showed up!” She stopped her rant, sniffed, and her fangs snapped into view. “Nephilim!”

Quicker than I’d thought her capable she crossed the room. Instinct kicked in and I slammed a hand hard into her throat and lifted. Her feet dangled off the floor and I shoved my right hand into view. “Hold your tongue before I rip it out!”

Shock registered on her face. She struggled but couldn’t free herself, and panicked.

With a sharp slap to her forehead, I raised my hand for her to see once more. “Stop struggling and look at my hand,” I ordered. She stopped and her eyes focused on the Pax Romana seal, and her whole body went slack. “I’m going to let you down now and you’re going to behave. Am I clear?”

When I released her she landed on the floor with incredible grace for such an ugly little woman. She straightened her suit jacket and sneered up at me. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you’re truly the newest vigiles you had better learn your place.”

The denarius flared at the insult. Great, now the little fucker was talking to me.

Glaring at the little vampire, I stepped forward, readying myself for battle. “You need to take a deep breath and relax, because if you keep pressing your luck with me, I’m going to burn you to the ground right where you stand. The previous vigiles may not have exercised their full authority for one reason or another. I, on the other hand, will.”

She snarled in frustration, whirling on Andrew. “I suppose you’re to blame for this!”

Andrew shook his head. “You know as well as I do that the denarius chooses its host. I had nothing to do with it!”

She stomped her foot into the hardwood floor, spinning to face me. “You’ve been causing me no end of problems,
vigiles
,” she spat.

Giving her one of those, “Oh, do tell” looks I shook my head. “Please, go on.”

She growled. “It appears that you’ve slain a full member of the Archive. Care to explain yourself?”

Glaring down at her, I glowered. “It’s a
vigiles
matter, but I’m going to give you a bit of advice, Ms. Dodd.”

Arrogance poured out of her as she snorted. “Are you now?”

Faster than the vampire could move I snatched her off the floor again and raised her to eye level. “I am, and you’d damn well better listen.” My voice was hard and came out in a snarl. “You’ve allowed a necromancer to flourish in your territory, not to mention a city that you call home.” She ceased struggling and her eyes went wide as fear took hold. Any prefect allowing a necromancer to live in their territory was subject to summary execution if they had even the slightest of hints of their presence. “I’m going to work on the assumption that you didn’t know. Pray that I don’t find out otherwise.”

I sat the pudgy woman back on her feet and released her.

Her voice quavered when she spoke. “I didn’t know…who is it?”

Shaking my head, I said, “I’m not willing to discuss it with you at this point. I don’t know you well enough to trust you with such information. That means if the necromancer in question is suddenly warned, you knew them.” I let my aura flare out and I saw the others shiver in response. “If that happens you won’t live to see a new day.” She turned an astonishing shade of white and trembled. “Furthermore, everyone who knows I’m the new
vigiles
is sequestered to this house, save for you. You have two options…either keep my secret, or I’ll have to ask Andrew to prepare a room for you.” I paused for a second, glaring down, and made it clear that I wanted nothing more than her dead. “I suppose there is a third option.”

She visibly gulped at that before her face hardened. “I think I can keep a secret.”

Allowing my body to relax, I stepped back. “Good to hear.”

The arrogance returned to her voice. “I live to serve.”

Staring a hole through the woman, I nodded. “See that you do. For the record, you should be aware that I’ve killed three Archive members, only one of which was under your jurisdiction.”

She blinked at the information and turned to Andrew for confirmation. “Is this true?”

Andrew slowly nodded. “All in the course of his duties.”

She swallowed hard and turned to face me with defiance written across her smug little face. “Anything else I should know?” Venom dropped from every word.

This was a game I would tire of quickly. “Stop thinking that I’m some insubordinate underling. Go polish up on the law and understand that if you do anything to interfere with my investigation I’ll deal with you accordingly.”

She paused, reaching out with her senses. “What are you?”

“I’m the
vigiles
, and that’s all you need to know.”

She straightened her suit jacket as she turned back to Andrew. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you with what is obviously an in house issue. I would ask that the governor not take it personally since I’ve got a new
vigiles
.” She turned back to me. “May I at least get your name?”

Smirking, I said, “Gavin Randall.”

Her mouth fell open before closing. She turned and glared at Andrew. “Any relation?”

Clearing my throat, I forced her attention back to me. “I’m his nephew. Will that be a problem?”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” She took a deep breath and stepped around me. “I’ll be going now if there is nothing else.”

Stepping aside, I kept my eyes on her. “There isn’t. I’ll see you Friday for the ceremony.”

She glared up at me, hate shining in her eyes. “It appears so.”

She passed through the door, and with what I was guessing took a great amount of effort, refused to slam it. I gave her a good minute before turning around to face Andrew and the others, who were doing their best not to laugh.

“What?” I asked.

Alexander strode past me and clapped my shoulder hard enough to send me forward several steps. “Damn good show! I’ll see that she leaves without destroying anything.”

Andrew waved me over to the desk just as Kimberly made her way into the living room. She looked around to make sure we were alone before wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me tight. “Thank you so much!”

Giving her an odd look, I turned to my uncle. “What’s going on?”

Andrew chuckled. “Ms. Dodd was here to force Kimberly and Heather out of our home, saying that I was interfering in a family/ triumvirate dispute.” He threw his hands up. “A request that I would’ve been unable to refuse had you not intervened.”

Raising a surprised eyebrow at her, I shrugged. “Not sure what I did, but I’m glad to have done it.”

Kimberly giggled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman at a loss for words before.”

Andrew shook his head. “Neither have I.”

Isidore stood frozen behind Andrew. He sniffed the air loud enough for us all to hear. “In her frustration she forgot about the nephilim.”

With that everyone turned to me expectantly. Holding up my hands to calm everyone, I said, “No need to worry about the nephilim; he works for me in much the same way Isidore works for Amelia.”

Andrew placed his elbows on the desk. “You’ve been here less than two weeks and you’ve already met and employed a nephilim?”

Avoiding the question with a noncommittal shrug, I said, “It was a very odd day.”

Andrew nodded. “Care to share?”

Shaking my head. “Not particularly, no.”

Andrew chuckled. “I could order you to tell me.”

I countered, “Actually, you couldn’t. Amelia could order me to tell her, and if she felt like it was important could share it with you, but I’m betting good money she’d keep her mouth shut.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow and hooted. “Fair enough. I’m sure it’ll all come out in the wash.”

“I’m sure given enough time that you’re right.”

With that Andrew filled me in on what brought Ms. Dodd to our doorstep besides the Broussard’s and Marcus Gray being killed. She was upset that a filthy human was somehow involved with what she considered a messy situation. Ms. Dodd had implied that Andrew had overstepped his authority in the matter by involving a human, i.e. me. This was further confirmation that I’d need to move out and find a place of my own sooner than later. I couldn’t have people running to my uncle’s place every time they got their panties in a wad.

Chapter 25

Sunday June 7th

The encounter with Ms. Dodd and the ensuing conversations left me spent. The fact I smelled of nephilim concerned me, but probably not as much as it should’ve. Extricating myself from my uncle and the others, I slogged off to my room for a nice long hot shower and a few minutes of peace, followed by a good night's sleep.

The one thing I hadn’t expected was the level of violence contact with a nephilim brought out in others. Ms. Dodd had been absolutely murderous merely at the scent. No wonder Martha had kept Gabriel hidden and away from the Archive. I doubted seriously he would’ve survived if his presence had been common knowledge. I’d have to bring Gabriel into the open soon to ensure the others knew he was under my protection.

His heritage would need to remain a secret from everyone, save for myself and Gabriel, until such time as we could ease the news to all of those involved. If Andrew were to find out at the wrong time it could be disastrous. His father may be an unknown factor, but Martha being his mother would most likely upset Andrew no matter when he learned the information.

Turning the knob in the shower and allowing almost nothing but hot water to spray over me felt remarkable. It wasn’t nearly long enough, but then again my knees kept buckling under my weight as I nodded off several times. I took the hint, toweled off, and pulled on a pair of jeans before falling face first into the soft, cushy mattress, letting sleep take me almost instantly. Truth be told, I didn’t recall hitting the mattress. The dream, or perhaps it was a vision, was upon me in seconds.

What I saw before me was not the world I knew. It was younger and far more primal than anything in recorded history. Gods and devils walked the earth, warring with one another on a scale I couldn’t comprehend.

The god Ankou rose up out of the darkness to create the armies of the undead, ripping souls from beyond the veil to serve him here and now. Ankou, in that moment, created the blackest of arts that we call necromancy. His hate and anger at the light drove him to break the laws of creation itself.

Lugus, god of light, saw this abomination, and in his arrogance created life where none should ever exist and brought forth warriors of pure life against the soldiers of death. The battle was terrible to behold. Shadow and light weaved in and out of encounter after encounter, neither side gaining an upper hand.

Both gods stooped lower and lower, creating even more abominations and in turn tearing the very fabric of the world apart. The other powers of the land created pockets of reality as they tried to flee the terrible war. In time the world seethed and tore at itself, as it couldn’t withstand much more of this conflict of life and death.

As the earth itself cried out in terror and pain, it created a being of such power that nothing could withstand it. Thus The Reaper was born. The Reaper stood in the midst of a great battlefield, with Lugus on one side and Ankou on the other.

The Reaper looked out towards Ankou high up on the ridge above. The Reaper’s voice shook the earth as he spoke. “This will end now. Withdraw your forces and leave this world, or I’ll be forced to involve myself in such matters.”

Ankou laughed, as he did not understand the situation. “Why would you fight for Lugus? Tell me your name so that I may make it legendary with your death for such arrogance.”

The Reaper sighed as he looked back to Lugus. “I make you the same offer. Withdraw and leave this world.” He paused as he glanced at each god in turn. “Or I’ll be forced to remove you both.”

Ankou and Lugus were so enraged they ordered their forces against the solitary figure. The Reaper held out his hands at either side and ripped the souls out of both armies as he swelled to his full height.

In his rage, The Reaper bound archangels and arch demons to the land as protectors to ensure the balance. His power tore at both gods, stripping them of all their authority and sealing them behind the veil, never to enter this world again.

The Reaper turned its face to me and I screamed.

Sweat poured off me and I shook, replaying the dream over and over again in my head. A soft knock at the door roused me from my vision. Looking over at the clock, I saw that it was 1:15 p.m.

“Come,” I said.

Heather pushed the door open and gingerly hobbled into the room before closing it behind her again. “You all right?”

Pulling myself upright, I stood and padded over to the dresser, pulled out one of my old T-shirts, and quickly pulled it over me before flopping back onto the bed. “Fine. Why do you ask?”

She blushed, chewing on her lip. “Modesty?” She giggled and then her face turned serious. “I thought I heard you scream.” She waved a hand at the nearest chair. “Mind if I sit?”

Getting myself together, I sat up straight on the edge of the bed. “Bad dreams. Nothing to worry about.” Trying to ease her concerns, I painted an easy smile on my face and gestured for her to sit. “Help yourself.”

Heather carefully lowered herself into the chair with only a slight grimace. “Thanks.” She made herself comfortable…which was a relative subject after being stabbed in the gut. “I hear you ran into Marcus Gray.”

Falling back in bed, I said, “We had a lengthy conversation in which he tried to kill me. As for the modesty thing, I guess I’m not used to attractive women showing up in my room when I’m half asleep.”

Heather’s embarrassment grew, and her tone was apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Popping my head off the mattress, I shook my head. “You didn’t.” I shivered when the dream rushed into my mind. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded if you’d woken me up a few minutes earlier.” I could see she wanted to talk about something other than my nightmares. “What’s up?”

She bit her lip again. “I heard about Marcus, and then there was the shit with Ms. Dodd, not to mention the fact a nephilim is somehow involved.” She looked at me in a strangely hopeful yet fearful manner. “Is it true? About the nephilim, I mean.”

Sitting up again, I stretched. “If by true you mean that I have a nephilim in my employ, then yes, it's true.”

At the confirmation her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped in the cutest little “oh.” She gathered herself and curiosity laced her voice. “Wow!” she said quietly, then her voice raised an octave. “I’ve never seen an actual nephilim. Are the stories true? Are they massive? Powerful? What’s he—or is it she— like?” Her fast paced questioning stopped as her face turned sour. “I’ve heard they are dangerous. Are you sure it's safe?”

Myths, legends, and complete ignorance of someone led to base human reactions of fear and anger. Sitting up straight, a bitter cackle escaped me. “The same could be said about sorcerers, werebeasts, witches, and other members of the Archive. They could all be considered dangerous to the normals of the world.”

Her mouth fell open, realizing how she’d sounded. She shrugged helplessly as she let out a long breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it in that light before.” She shook her head. “I never meant it like that…I was curious, then I spouted the shit I’ve been told all my life before ever meeting them.” She looked hurt and disappointed in herself. “I’m sorry.”

I did my best to look reassuring. “Don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t be the first person to fall victim to such a thought process.” Thinking back to my own childhood, I couldn’t hide the pain on my face. “People don’t realize how much it hurts to be discriminated against for things that aren’t your fault. Things that you personally were never responsible for.”

That hadn’t helped and she looked more hurt than before. “I’m really sorry. I never meant it that way. I swear.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I shook my head, trying to clear it so I wouldn’t be such an asshole. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong.”

Heather’s smile was bittersweet. “No, it came out right. The truth is rarely kind, and even rarer still gentle.”

I frowned at the words. “You’re right.”

Shifting in her seat, she changed the subject quickly. “Where did you find Marcus and why did he attack you?”

The memory of Marcus sobered me, snapping the cobwebs out of my head instantly. There was the truth and then there was what she wanted to hear. I’d already promised her I wouldn’t lie, so I went with honesty. “Have you ever been to Brad’s place?”

At the mention of Brad’s home, she looked completely repulsed. “That creepy place on the river?” She looked sick for a moment before shaking her head. “He’s invited me, of course, but the place gave me the willies. Why do you ask?” Then it dawned on her. “Marcus was there?”

Trying my best not to come off like a jerk, chanting I told you so, I forced an even tone. “Yeah.”

Heather’s face clouded with confusion. “Why would Marcus be there? Do you think he was looking for Brad?”

Swinging my feet off the bed, I let them down to touch the cool hardwood. Taking a deep breath, I let the coolness of the floorboards seep in and I hung my head before raising it again to meet her eyes. “I’m not sure, but it looked like he lived there.”

She was fighting hard not to see the obvious and I couldn’t understand why. She looked like she was going to lose her lunch when she spoke. “That’s not possible. Everyone knows Marcus works for Walter. Why would you think he lived there?” She suddenly looked scared and considerably younger. “Are you sure?”

That was quickly becoming my number one most annoying question. Why did everyone doubt my word? Still, I needed to put my anger in check to see why she was fighting so hard against the idea of Brad being involved. “I’m pretty sure.”

Heather’s composure cracked at the words and tears threatened to fall. “God, I really want you to be wrong.”

“Why does it matter so much?” I asked.

Her head fell forward and her shoulders slumped. “Because if he’s with Walter, where does that leave my dad?” She sniffed, fighting back the tears. “I know he’s a world class asshole, but he’s still my father. And I just have a hard time believing that even with all his faults he’d be the kind of man that would have any dealings with Walter Percy!” She sagged, the possibility of such a thing rolling over her. “At this point I could still forgive him, but if he were somehow working with Walter I’m not sure I could ever look at him again.”

The heart of the matter was, if he was involved what would I do? He would have to be brought to justice, especially after what I’d said to Ms. Dodd. She would insist on it. “One thing at a time. Let’s find out if there is even a connection. After that we can see where it takes us.”

Heather’s face hardened. “If he’s tied up with a necromancer there aren’t a lot of options.” She straightened herself, getting to her feet. “If that’s the case, make it quick. Don’t drag it out. Just end it.”

That was a tall order and an even more difficult request, but one I’d honor. “I can do that.”

She leaned over and wrapped her arms around me in a weak hug. “Thank you.”

With that she was out of my room, across the hall, and closing the door before I could get my thoughts together. Just as well…what the fuck was I going to say? “Thanks for giving me permission to kill your old man”? Or “Gee, thanks for letting me do my job”? Yeah, my options just got worse from there.

Closing the door, I sat on the bed and placed my head in my hands, trying to work up the nerve to get back on my feet and do what needed to be done. My phone chimed, letting me know I had a new email. When I pushed the icon, the mail from Lieutenant Baptist popped into view.

Gavin,

I wanted to give you a heads up. While information on Walter Bradley Matherne is scarce to say the least, I had a little more luck with Mary Percy. I won’t bore you with the details, such as me having to trek down the to the records office to find the actual marriage certificate, which forced me to drive to Baton Rouge for a birth certificate.

Turns out Mary Percy’s full name is Gretchen Mary Matherne Percy. With a name like Gretchen I might want to lose it as well, but I digress. Mary Matherne changed her name when she got married to Walter.

Turns out that one Mary Matherne was admitted to a secure nursing home in 1995, where she died in 2005 due to the flood waters of Katrina. With the lack of information on Walter Bradley Matherne, I backed into a few files under Walter Bradley Percy.

The news isn’t great. He was given up for adoption shortly after birth but was never taken in. He spent a great deal of his childhood and teenage years in the foster system. That is until he turned fourteen, when he was hospitalized at Touro. Once there it turns out that he was treated for his injuries and brought on as a volunteer by Robert Broussard.

The next four years are sketchy, but it appears that Robert and the boy stayed close. His name is buried deep in the purchase of that place by the river that I sent you to. BTW, how did that turn out?

For now, I have to run…still tracking down information that might be useful. Be in touch soon.

Lt. William Baptist UCD

Looking up at the door, I sighed. That effectively ended the question of Brad being Walter’s son. What it didn’t answer was if there was still a connection between Walter, Brad, and Robert. That in and of itself was the only good news I could see. It meant that I didn’t have to take Robert’s head and put it on a pike for everyone to see, yet. My gut was telling me that the man was dirty, and the evidence was piling up that he was more involved in this than anyone guessed. Well, maybe Heather had guessed, and that was why she was so adamant about Brad.