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Only the Lost

Page 17

by Amanda M. Lee


  “A neighbor?” Cormack’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Across the street or directly next door?”

  “Next door.”

  “How long has he been dead?” I asked, my mind working overtime. “I mean ... was he dead when we were there yesterday?”

  “He’s been dead at least sixteen hours, so I think odds are good. I have to head there now. I’ll know more when I get on the scene.”

  “It has to be the revenants,” Redmond offered. “It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise.”

  “It’s definitely the revenants.” Cormack’s expression promised retribution. “Whatever this is, whatever the plan, it’s starting to kick into overdrive now. We need to figure this out ... and fast.”

  “We’ll get dressed and head out,” Braden offered. “We’ll start searching. The problem is, we have no idea where to look.”

  “Aisling isn’t going out, is she?” The question was out of Griffin’s mouth before he thought better of it, and he cringed when his wife shot him a death glare. “I just mean ... someone has to watch Lily.”

  “Aisling will be with me,” Cormack promised. “I can’t guarantee to keep her in the house all day because ... well, you know how she is. She won’t be alone, though, and I’ll have guards with us to watch her and the baby.”

  “Now wait just a minute.” Aisling was livid. “I’m not some special case and I absolutely refuse to be treated differently.”

  “You are a special case,” Cormack countered. “We’re not going to argue about this. It’s done. You’re with me and the rest of you are in teams. I want to be informed the second you find anything. We need to track these creatures — whether they’re revenants or something else — as soon as possible. We can’t afford to wait.”

  That was the one thing everyone could agree on.

  Seventeen

  Braden put on a brave face, but I could tell the destruction of the garden bothered him. All the Grimlock children loved their mother — and in some respects Aisling was the one sporting the biggest open wound — but Braden carried the most weight where she was concerned. When the soulless being returned and tried to ingratiate itself with the family, he automatically believed her lies. The others were more leery, and Aisling was downright hostile. The garden was supposed to be a new start and now it was as if they were going through all of it again.

  Redmond promised he would keep an eye on his brother before leaving. I believed him. That didn’t stop me from worrying about Braden. He seemed lost when I left. We all had jobs to do, though, and that included me.

  The island was still shut off to traffic, so it took me longer to get to work than it would’ve on a normal day. I’d forgotten to schedule time for travel, so Oliver and Paris were already at their desks when I joined the fray.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Oliver said dryly. “I hope we didn’t interrupt your morning snuggle or anything.”

  I kind of wanted to smack him. “Something happened,” I countered, figuring it was best to fill them in sooner rather than later. “Actually, several things happened.”

  I caught them up, leaving nothing out. They were incapable of understanding what the loss of the garden meant to the Grimlocks, and I didn’t want to spread around the family’s private business. Paris offered her condolences anyway, which only made me like her even more.

  “The flowers looked melted?” Oliver drew his eyebrows together and I could practically hear the gears of his mind working. “I guess lightning could do that, but it sounds as if that storm was something other than normal.”

  “It definitely wasn’t normal. I should’ve said something last night. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  “That wouldn’t have saved the flowers,” Oliver argued. “Even if you called all of them out to look at the weird storm, what were they going to do? There was no way you could’ve known what was going to happen.”

  That was true, but it didn’t make me feel any better. “We need to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with. I’m talking about why they came back ... how they were infected ... and anything else that might be pertinent.”

  “Perhaps that’s not what’s important,” Paris argued, her expression thoughtful. “I mean ... it’s not my place to tell you what to focus on. I’m much more interested in why they were taken than why they were returned. To me, that’s the real mystery.”

  I was flummoxed. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  “Has the gate ever malfunctioned before? I mean ... was sixty years ago the one and only time it malfunctioned? Is this the only gate that has malfunctioned? Why did it happen when it did? It seems to me those are the questions we should be asking.”

  She had a point. Unfortunately, I had no answers. I looked to Oliver for help. “What about you? You’ve been around a long time. Have you ever heard of the gate malfunctioning any other time?”

  Oliver shook his head. “No, but the higher-ups are not exactly forthcoming when it comes to this stuff. I told you before that they never provided appropriate answers for the first instance. I always assumed it was because they didn’t know. Or, as I mentioned previously, that somehow all those men died during the incident and I was spared because I was a vampire. I thought it was possible — perhaps even probable — that they were simply covering up an error on their part.”

  “We can’t rule that out,” Paris noted. “If they did cover it up, they might know what’s happening now and not want to own up to past mistakes. It would hardly be the first time something like that happened.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I pursed my lips and started to pace. “Well, let’s look at this rationally. We’ve always assumed that the reaper hierarchy understands the function of the gate. We’ve been told how it works, but now I’m starting to wonder if it’s true.

  “I mean, think about it,” I continued, warming to my topic. “We’ve been told you can’t cross over and come back. That’s supposedly a death sentence. It makes sense because otherwise people would be crossing the threshold willy-nilly when questions about the other side propelled true believers to prove their ideas of what happens when you die.

  “Theology and certain belief systems have survived over the centuries because people want to believe there’s something else out there. They want to believe we go on ... and with our loved ones at our sides. Without that belief, without a chance to be reunited with those we love most, despair would take over and the world would be different ... and not in a good way.”

  “That’s all very well thought out,” Oliver remarked. “There’s a lot of truth in it. Something else has been occurring to me, though, and it circles right back to what you said. Was the gate discovered? Was it created? Is it man-made? Angel-made? Demon-made?

  “If you think about it, had someone stumbled across the gate years ago — we’re talking when Detroit was barely more than a trade station — how could they possibly know what it was? The entire reaper mythology is based on a story, and I’m starting to wonder if that story is true. What if this entire thing is a fraud that has been perpetuated for centuries?”

  Well, that was a sobering thought. “I don’t think it can all be made up.” I chose my words carefully. “Lily Grimlock passed over and then came back to save her children. There’s obviously something else out there.”

  “I’m not saying there’s nothing else out there. I’m saying that the stories, the history, might be different from what we imagined. What if a group of people stumbled across the gate, tried to go through it, and really did see something on the other side? How else do you explain how they even knew what they were dealing with?”

  The deeply philosophical discussion was starting to give me a headache. “None of it really makes sense when you break it down.”

  “Which means Paris could be right. Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. Perhaps we should be focusing on why the men went missing and the actual history of the gate. I’m talking the true history here,” Oliver said.

 
“That sounds great. How do we do that?”

  “We talk to people who have a strong sense of history.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “The oceans were once much larger than they are now. They were inhabited by creatures that had the run of the realm. These are creatures that never forget their history and continuously pass it down to future generations.”

  I understood what he was getting at. “The merfolk.”

  “They know more than we do by virtue of what they are. It can’t hurt to tap that resource.”

  “Which one would be more willing to talk?”

  “Collin is the obvious answer, but Claire is the one to go to. She might be bitchy, but she’s a fountain of information ... and she’s studied theology. She’s your best bet.”

  I shifted my eyes to Paris. “Do you want to meet some merfolk?”

  She nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

  “Then we should head to the gardens. That’s where we’ll find Claire.”

  CLAIRE O’REILLY WAS INDEED AT THE gardens, and she wasn’t in a good mood.

  “I’m busy,” she announced as we approached her.

  I was used to her attitude and didn’t back down. “We’re all busy. I think we’re dealing with something a bit bigger than your ... whatever that is.” I gestured toward the plant she was studying.

  “It’s a rare lily. They’re difficult to care for — and this one is struggling — but I’m determined to save it. There are only seven plants left and when they’re gone, there’s no bringing them back.”

  I made a mental note to ask her about the Grimlock lilies once things had settled down. “We need to know if you can answer questions about revenants.”

  Claire was surly, but the look she shot me was full of curiosity. “Revenants? Why do you want to know about them?”

  “We believe that’s what we’re dealing with, but we can’t be sure. No one has ever crossed paths with one.”

  “That’s probably not true.” Claire dusted off her hands on her shorts and stood. “Revenants are more common than you realize. But ... if you’re asking about them now, you must think those who returned aren’t what they originally appeared to be.”

  “You’re correct.”

  “Ah, well, I expected that.” She let loose a sigh. “Come along. We’ll go to the cafeteria. I need a drink, and I expect this is going to be a long talk.”

  She had that right.

  I’D NEVER BEEN TO THE CAFETERIA in this building and I wasn’t impressed. It basically consisted of three tables and a coffee machine. It was clearly for the volunteers, not paying guests.

  Claire was at home. She collected three bottles of water from the small refrigerator, doled them out, and then sank into one of the chairs. I didn’t particularly like her, but she did most of the work in the garden, and I knew it had to be tiring.

  “Revenants are not what you believe,” she started. “Although ... I guess I don’t know what you believe. Why don’t you tell me and we’ll start there?”

  “From what I’ve read, revenant is a term that’s been used for a variety of different things over the years,” I replied. “Some people refer to ghosts as revenants, but I don’t think that can be true because ghosts are non-corporeal. Revenants have to be corporeal.”

  “You’re correct on that. Revenants have bodies. What else?”

  “Some think revenants are vampires. Others, zombies. I think they’re something else entirely.” I told her about Ray Smith, the creature I’d fought ... and killed. When I was finished, she was bobbing her head.

  “You’re definitely dealing with revenants.” She almost looked excited. She had a weird personality. If she was this excited, it couldn’t be good. “Revenants are not vampires. In fact, they’re essentially backward twins of vampires. They’re not zombies either, but they do have a few things in common.”

  I sat back so I could get comfortable and listen. It was best to let her relate the information on her own terms.

  “Vampires can be born or bitten,” she continued, taking on a far-off expression. “Many people believe that vampires originated in Transylvania, which is what fiction books have told us. That is not true. Vampires have been around since the dawn of time in one form or another.

  “The original vampires were much stronger than the ones we deal with today. They weren’t born at that time. They were created. In a nutshell — because we don’t have much time for an origin story, no matter how fascinating it is — demons started evolving into different creatures. Some drank blood, ate flesh and had no souls. Others became monsters of a different sort. That doesn’t matter for the purposes of this discussion. What does matter is that somewhere along the line, they started to evolve.

  “Because vampires evolved from demons, people assume they’re soulless. That is not true. The original demons who transformed did not have souls. When they started procreating — something most demon lines don’t do — the offspring were born with souls.”

  She was right. This was fascinating. “Did the vampires completely separate from the demons at some point?”

  “Yes, and they did it quickly. Once vampires realized they were different, they started to think of themselves as superior. At the time, that wasn’t true. The demons were still stronger. But because the demons weren’t procreating, their numbers waned and the vampires grew stronger.

  “There was a time when a certain sect of vampires started a push to revert to the old ways. Those vampires thought the entire race had grown soft. While it wasn’t necessary for them to kill to survive, some of them liked it. That’s where revenants come in.

  “This faction wasn’t large, but it was strong,” she continued. “They went back to eating human flesh. They went back to killing mercilessly. As an interesting side effect, they were drawn to members of their own family or others who shared common blood. I’ve never heard an appropriate explanation for why.

  “The thing is, revenants didn’t procreate. I’m not sure why. There are numerous stories. Some say their carnivorous ways made it so they couldn’t perform. Others said they merely lost interest. We all know how men are, how sexual appetites work, so I tend to believe the former. I don’t know it for a fact, though.”

  “Is that important?” Paris asked.

  “For this story it is,” Claire confirmed. “Revenants couldn’t procreate, so they had to multiply in other ways.”

  I was finally starting to catch on. “They had to create revenants from things they already had, which is exactly what happened to the people who were swallowed by the gate.”

  “Exactly.” Claire nodded. “Revenants threatened to take over for a time. When the human race was weak, in times of plague for example, they would take out entire cities and turn them into followers. The other paranormals realized they were a threat and banded together to eradicate them.”

  “Obviously that didn’t work,” I muttered.

  “Perhaps not the way you’re thinking, but it did work,” Claire countered. “The gates were public by that time. And before you ask, I don’t know how the gates came into being. I don’t know that anyone does. At a certain point, they were simply there ... and located in almost every major city.

  “Back in those times, the population was more spread out,” she explained. “Reapers came into being, but a lot of souls were missed. It wasn’t until centuries later that the current system came into play.

  “While I know a decent amount about reaper history, they guard their secrets well. We all have questions about the gates and where they came from. You’re wondering if the men in that room sixty years ago were specifically targeted. I would have to say they were.”

  “But why?” I asked. “There’s a big gap in your story.”

  “That’s because I don’t have all the answers you seek.” Claire turned rueful. “I wish I did. No one person understands everything. What I know is that the revenants were hunted by huge groups of paranormals, all working together.
r />   “When they tried to flee to the seas, we attacked from the water and they were boxed in. It was a coordinated attack. We knew that if we didn’t cull their numbers, at least make a huge dent, we all would eventually fall victim to them.

  “They were vile, hateful and disgusting creatures. They offered nothing to this world, so we sent those we couldn’t kill to the next.”

  Something sizzled in the back of my mind. “You forced them across the gate.”

  “We forced them across all the gates,” she corrected. “Remember, revenants were taking over the world. It wasn’t happening in just one area.”

  “Didn’t you wonder what was on the other side?” Paris asked. “I mean ... how did you know that you weren’t empowering them even more?”

  “We didn’t. No one knew what was on the other side of the gates. There were rumors that angels actually descended from Heaven to explain the function of the gates to a chosen few. Obviously those stories were met with derision, but for all we know they could be true. All our ancestors knew was that if they managed to push the revenants across, they were unlikely to return.”

  “You’re saying they were willing to damn the next world as long as this one was free of the evil,” I mused. “I mean ... I get it. It was a huge risk.”

  “It was,” Claire agreed. “It seemed to work, though. Revenants haven’t gotten a foothold in centuries. Sure, a few were missed. They were easy to hunt down and eradicate after most of them were gone, though. Through the years, a few have popped up here and there, but nothing has happened like what occurred here the other day.

  “You say they didn’t look like dark creatures when they reappeared,” she prodded. “Revenants didn’t regain their human features like vampires. The original demons were a mixture. Some looked human, others didn’t. The vampires eventually all resembled humans. It was a quirk of evolution that allowed them to walk amongst the humans. The revenants were not that lucky.”

 

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