The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles- Year One

by Ken Lange

Brad rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft. I know you took that mutt from Andrew’s to the wedding.” He huffed, and a vein popped into view on his temple. “How could you stoop so low as to be seen in public with a werewolf? Are you trying to prove your father right?” His voice was suddenly full of venom. “That you’re some kind of fucking whore?”

  And we’re done.

  I tapped my knuckles against the door hard enough to make them both jump. Stepping inside the room, I gave Heather a once-over. “Afternoon.” Turning my head slightly, I glared at Brad. “You must be the vegan. The wedding was terrific, by the way.”

  His head snapped back as if I’d slapped him. “I thought Robert placed sigils around the hospital to keep your kind out.”

  Wow, Robert was a bigger asshole than I’d thought. If a were was injured, they couldn’t be treated at a regular hospital…well, at least not this one. That was low.

  I took a step closer, and he stumbled back. “I’m betting the man hasn’t got a clue about my kind.” Just to be an asshole, I stuck out my hand in his direction. “I’m Gavin.”

  Brad recoiled, and glanced back at Heather, who was busy trying not to laugh, before whipping his head back to me. “You’re obviously too dull to understand how much you’re upsetting Heather.” He ran his thumb against the ring on his index finger. “You should go now before I’m forced to remove you.”

  My eyes flicked down to his hand. “I’m not the one leaving.” Locking my gaze onto his, I said, “Try it.” When he didn’t, I smirked. “Thought as much.” Nodding at Heather, I asked, “Is it okay with you if I hang out for a few?”

  She pulled her gaze off my right hand and grinned. “Absolutely.” Her smile faded when her eyes met Brad’s. “In case you missed it, he’s staying.”

  Brad squeezed between the bed and me, scrambling for the door. “You wait till your father hears about this.” He paused. “If I walk out of this room, we’re over!”

  Heather lifted a hand and waved. “Bye.”

  Brad stormed out in a huff, and a moment later, the door closed with a very anticlimactic click.

  I chuckled. “Sorry if I stepped on your toes there, but he was kind of being a dick.”

  She snickered. “No kind of about it. He was being a complete asshole.” She beamed up at me. “Looks like you’ve saved me twice in less than a week.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed. “I do what I can.” Making a more thorough inspection of her, I shrugged. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

  She snickered then clutched her stomach. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.” She flattened the sheets. “Anyway, not gushing blood from an open wound can do that for a girl.” Her lips twitched, but she fought back the case of the giggles. “Why does Brad think you’re a werewolf?”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  The expression on her face said she wasn’t buying it. “Because you’re a vigil…duh.” She folded her arms. “Care to try again?”

  I ducked my head and mumbled, “Because your father assumed I was, and I didn’t bother to correct him.” Gesturing at the door, I sighed. “It appears he didn’t waste any time gossiping about it.”

  Heather frowned. “Yeah, he’s an asshole like that.”

  “You said it, not me. But it does probably explain why your room number was difficult to acquire.”

  Cocking an eyebrow, she asked, “What?”

  I shrugged. “When I came here today, I was told that your information wasn’t available…I snuck a peek before she closed the file, which is the only reason I’m here now.”

  She blinked. “Is that why no one’s been by to see me?”

  I took stock of the room and realized that there wasn’t a phone. “What happened to the landline…or better yet, where’s your mobile?”

  She grimaced. “My father told me the one for this room was broken. As for mine…I think he has it.”

  I tugged my cell out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Here, use mine. It hasn’t got much of a contact list, but maybe it’ll help you feel more connected.”

  She took it and tucked it under her thigh. “What are you going to do for one in the meantime?”

  With all the skill of a day one magician, I made a show of pulling a second phone out of my pocket. “I signed up for Google Fi last week, and got my new phone last night.”

  Arching an eyebrow, she stifled a chuckle. “Stop making me laugh.” She waved me over, and examined my hand. “You’re lucky Brad’s a moron.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She pointed at my palm. “Because you’re not advertising the fact you’re a vigil.”

  I shrugged. “True, but I’m not hiding it either.”

  Heather grinned. “I don’t know which will piss them off more…you not being a werewolf or that you’re the new vigil.” A bitter smile crossed her lips. “And with dear old dad on the triumvirate, he’s going to take every opportunity to make your life hell.”

  Sighing, I closed my eyes. “I’m sure he will, but hopefully it’ll be a few days before he finds out.”

  She held out her hands. “He won’t be hearing it from me… It’s my fondest wish to be as far away as possible from the man when he finds out.”

  Curious, I asked, “Why?”

  “Because he’s going to totally lose his shit, and I don’t need that kind of crazy around me right now.” She glanced over at the door and frowned. “It’s a pretty safe bet that Brad’s gone to find my father to have you tossed out.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  Heather sat up in bed. “I wanted to thank you for being there the other night. If it had been Brad, I’d probably be dead.”

  “Modesty sort of demands that I disagree with that statement, but the truth is, you’re probably right.”

  She let out a giggle, stopped, and punched me in the shoulder. “I told you to stop making me laugh.”

  Grinning, I said, “Sorry.”

  Her gaze darted toward the door and then to me. “I’d really like you to stay for a bit…but it might be best if you go.”

  I nodded. “Probably. Do you have anyone who can come keep you company?”

  She shook her head. “Mom, for now. Justine, my best friend, is out of town for a few days, and I’m not really close with anyone else other than your uncle and Isidore. And as you know, Andrew doesn’t leave home often, and Isidore can’t stop by.”

  “Sorry…”

  Heather smiled. “Don’t be. I prefer to keep my circle of friends small. I find it’s easier that way.”

  “That’s a good and a bad thing for me.”

  She gave me a curious look. “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged. “I was hoping you might have a clue why you were attacked.”

  Heather’s expression hardened. “Wish I did.”

  Getting to my feet, I said, “Don’t worry, I’ll find out who’s behind this and make sure you’re safe.” I patted the bed next to her thigh. “You’ve got my phone. Use it as you see fit. And if anything comes up, my other number’s in there.”

  She pulled out the phone. “Is that the only reason I can call?”

  I grinned. “Absolutely not.

  Her voice was soft. “Good.” Pointing at the door, she said, “You should go before security shows up.”

  As I was stepping out the door, I said, “Get back on your feet quickly, and remember, call me or Andrew if you need anything.”

  She waved. “I will.”

  I took the nearest staircase down, ducked out of a side door, and blended in with the other pedestrians admiring the architecture of the Garden District. There were more than a few health enthusiasts made up of a strange mixture of college kids, the elderly, and new mothers jogging with strollers.

  For a fleeting moment, I thought of visiting the UCD…only problem was, I had no idea where to find them or who to speak to. Which instantly ruled that option out. For now, it seemed, it was back to Andrew’s to dig through more of Martha’s papers, and see where
it took me.

  While I was at it, I needed to research my new position. It was becoming a habit of mine to jump into jobs without actually learning what they were about first. Considering how the last one had ended, I should concentrate on not screwing this one up.

  When I made my way into the apartment, I found Andrew and Isidore sitting at the living room table drinking scotch. I plopped into the seat next to Andrew. “I’ve got a stupid question.”

  Andrew snickered, poured himself a scotch, and took a hit. “All right, shoot.”

  That’s just great. I’ve already got the boss drinking every time I ask a question. I’d never liked discussing money, but this was important. “The vigil position…is it a paying job or will I need to find additional employment?”

  Andrew straightened his shirt and put on a professional demeanor. “As the vigil for this area, you’ll be given a base salary, and from what I understand, it’s fairly substantial.” Grabbing a fairly modern-looking handbook, he tossed it to me. “You’ll be expected to travel to maintain control of the region, which will be fully comped by the Archive…. The specifics are in there. If I’m not mistaken, they cover the cost of housing—that is, if you decide to move out of here.”

  I set the book aside and ran my hand over my face. “I’m sure I’ll need to find my own place eventually. But for now, I’m happy staying here until I can get my feet on the ground.”

  Andrew relaxed, grabbed another glass, and topped off all three. “Here’s to you taking your time about that.” We all took a drink. “The peace and quiet you bring to the house is a most welcome change.”

  Isidore gestured at me. “Did you see Heather?”

  Swallowing my scotch, I nodded. “She’s doing all right. I also ran into her friend Brad while I was there.” Irritation crept into my voice. “And you were right…Robert didn’t waste any time telling people I’m a werewolf.”

  Isidore snorted, and his gaze flickered over my right hand. “They’re going to be in for a rude awakening.”

  Of that I was sure. Taking another drink, I savored the rich flavors before turning to Andrew. “Why aren’t weres allowed to be a vigil?”

  Andrew’s face darkened. Setting his glass on the table, he fumed, “For the same reason they can’t enter the Archive. People like Robert have fought hard to prevent them from them being allowed in the selection process, but they can become a decanus—a deputy in service to a specific vigil.”

  Turning to Isidore, I straightened up and tried to appear competent. “Want a job?”

  Isidore frowned. “Sorry, but I’ve already got a job taking care of your uncle.” Pride shone on his face as he puffed out his chest. “I work for Amelia, your boss.”

  It shouldn’t have surprised me to learn that I had a boss, but it did. “Amelia?”

  Andrew winced. “The vigil for North America.”

  “And who does she answer to?”

  Andrew and Isidore turned to one another, shrugging in unison. Clearly, they rarely gave the situation much thought. Andrew tilted his glass, and sighed. “Lazarus hasn’t had a personal vigil in nearly a thousand years. So…technically, Lazarus.”

  What the hell? The local Archive was pushing for someone to replace Martha in less than two weeks. How could Lazarus wait a thousand years to find someone? “Why hasn’t he chosen a new vigil by now?”

  Andrew considered his answer carefully. “Ranks within the Archive are based on that person’s power… The higher the rank, the more powerful they are. In Amelia’s case, she’s a 357-year-old sorcerer of immense power. The vigiles serving the other governors are equally powerful, and some even more so. After Naevius Sutorius Macro was killed, no one’s been strong enough to take up the mantle, and the position’s remained open.”

  At the mention of Naevius’s name, Isidore’s face darkened. “From everything I’ve heard about the man, he was a complete asshole. It was at his urging that all the weres were marked as slaves, pets, or, in his words, ‘to be put down.’” He slammed back his drink. “He used to like betting on the fights he set up.”

  Anger flared inside me at the thought of people being forced into cage matches. “Sounds like the guy was a total douche.”

  Andrew frowned. “I’ll need to contact Amelia. She’ll want to meet with you soon.”

  Just what I needed: someone else breathing down my neck. I tossed back my scotch and grabbed the book he’d given me. “That’ll have to wait till this situation is under control. Other than this, is there anything else I need to read?”

  Andrew nodded. “Tons—I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of putting some of them on the desk in your bedroom.”

  I don’t know which was worse, finding out that I had a new boss or the fact that school was back in session. Yippee…not.

  Gesturing at the table, I asked, “Any chance of finding a set of CliffsNotes lying around?”

  Andrew shot me a stern look. “Those are the CliffsNotes.”

  My stomach fell, and the nerves kicked in. “Fantastic.” Steadying myself, I tucked the small book under my arm before grabbing the journal and heading to my room.

  Sitting at the desk, I sifted through the books until I found the Vigil Enchiridion. Of course, it was in Latin. Fantastic. Andrew should’ve told me I’d need to order one of those language kits.

  I closed my eyes in frustration, but a sense of calm washed over me. When I opened my eyes again and looked at the text, it was in English. I blinked. No, not English. It was still in Latin, but I could read it. Well, hot damn. While I doubted this worked like The Matrix, something told me I’d be able to read most languages.

  The denarius, Kur, was quickly adapting to my brain, creating a new interface that would allow me to access vast amounts of information about various species, cyphers, and numerous other items. It was a sort of amplified intelligence.

  Over the next several hours, I discovered that the triumvirate and prefects were chosen in a similar fashion to a vigil, but with ascending currency. Coins were used to carry necessary information from one generation to the next. This ensured that if a chosen officer died, or was otherwise deemed unworthy of continuing their work, vital knowledge wasn’t lost.

  My job was simple: ensure things ran smoothly and keep the Archive a secret from the general populace by any means necessary.

  That I could do.

  Chapter 15

  Wednesday June 3rd

  When I jerked awake, pain shot through my neck and down my back. Slowly raising my head off the desk, I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Pins and needles erupted down the arm that had been trapped against the wood for far too long. Giving it a good shake, I forced myself onto my feet and staggered to the shower.

  While I dressed, a plan formed. By sheer luck, I’d found a couple of hidden files on one of Martha’s portable drives. There wasn’t much in them, just an address for a warehouse out in Metairie and a couple of notes on Neil Nunez. All I could do was follow the breadcrumbs to wherever they led.

  By the time I got myself together and meandered to the kitchen, it was 4:30 a.m. There, I was greeted by the intoxicating scent of bacon. Judging by the heaping piles of meat on the plates, Isidore was cooking breakfast for a small army.

  He glanced over his shoulder long enough to acknowledge me. “Eggs and toast will be up shortly.” With a slight tilt of his head at the meat, he said, “If you’re hungry, grab a few strips of bacon. There’s plenty.”

  My mouth watered. “Don’t mind if I do.” My stomach mollified, I took in a large bowl with at least a dozen eggs cracked, ready to be whipped into omelets or scrambled eggs. “Do we have guests, or are you just that hungry?”

  Isidore’s eyes flashed, and I thought the beast moved just under the surface. “It’s that time of the month, so to speak.” He blushed, realizing what he’d said, and tried to backtrack. “The full moon...it’s time for the full moon.”

  I grabbed two more slices. “Anything I can help with?”

&
nbsp; He eyed the bacon in my hand. “You can save me some of that.”

  Chuckling, I rolled my eyes. “I think you’ll be fine, buddy. There’s a couple of pounds of the stuff there.” I sucked a piece of bacon out from between my teeth, and asked, “Seriously, is there anything I can do?”

  Isidore shook his head. “Nah. I’ve got it under control. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the show.” A moment later, he spun on his heel, waving a spatula in my general direction. “George dropped off several packages for you last night, and apologized for being late.”

  With everything that had been going on, I’d completely forgotten about George. “I’d hardly call a three-day turnaround late.”

  Isidore shrugged. “He’s always been wound a bit tight. Anyway, they’re in the living room.”

  “Thanks.”

  After breakfast, it took me a couple of trips to move the half dozen garment bags, along with several boxes packed with clothes, back to my room. Being the lazy bastard I am, I didn’t bother to unpack them. Instead, I rummaged through the containers until I found a pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt.

  While George’s shirt hadn’t saved me from getting cut the other day, I figured it best to play it safe, or in this case, as safe as I could. Admittedly, the new stuff was incredibly comfortable. I grabbed the car keys off the dresser and walked out the door.

  The aged metal garage door slid up quietly to reveal the Tucker. I slipped into the driver’s seat and made my way out to the suburbs, making my way toward the address I’d plugged into my phone before I left the house. It took about thirty minutes to cut through traffic, navigate road construction, and learn how to do what I’d dubbed the Louisiana left—a U-turn.

  I pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse in Elmwood and got out of the car. The faded sign indicated that this used to be a hub for the now-defunct DHL company. By the look of the place, someone had kept up the grounds…mostly, anyway. Bits of paper and other trash had collected in some of the corners, and an unnatural silence seemed to engulf the area. My forearms were covered in gooseflesh and my guts twisted into knots.