The Eyes of the Sun: The Complete Trilogy

by Christina McMullen

  Many people had expressed interest in adopting or fostering the kids. Miles and Lona had already put their names in to take the older children, who were not as likely to be adopted out as the younger ones. Lona said it was only fair that she pass along the love and acceptance that Abe and his wife, Claire, had shown her. Besides that, Miles was absolutely nuts about the idea of having a large family. I suspect that their soon-to-be crowded house will be one full of love and a lot of laughter.

  And somehow, despite every horrible moment, every strange event, and every loss felt, what I gained was immeasurable. I had a family. I had a father who risked his life so that mine did not meet a terrible end. I gained a sister, who accepted me as family, and not as the reason for the burden of her young existence. And I had a grandmother, whose willingness to take the chance on a misunderstood and terrified child allowed us all to be family in the first place. All of the questions and empty spaces in my life’s history were filled. Even the memories of my mother were yet strengthened by the knowledge that the love she and my father shared was strong enough to endure even the tragedy of her death.

  And of course, there was Andre.

  “Do you mind a bit of walking? There's something I want to show you.” Andre had pulled me off to the side and we waited as the others exited the cemetery gates. I nodded and he took my hand, pulling me towards the back entrance that faced away from the main road. When we reached the street, he turned right, heading away from downtown.

  After a few blocks, the cemeteries gave way to businesses, and within a half mile we were in a pretty, tree-shaded residential neighborhood with beautiful, yet unique homes. Andre stopped in front of a modest two-story house with a wraparound porch and second floor balcony. Upon seeing the 'for sale' sign, I raised my eyebrows. ”Getting into the real estate market?”

  “Not exactly,” he said with a faraway look. “Four bedrooms, a good size yard, excellent schools right around the corner.”

  “Schools?”

  “I'm thinking about adopting Ben,” he said quietly. “He reminds me a lot of myself at his age, and that worries me. I had a normal life until the age of ten, but after my parents’ death, well, I don't have to tell you about how things change. I want to give Ben a chance to experience something of a normal life. It’s the least he deserves.”

  “I think that's wonderful,” I told him and really meant it. Dara had told me Ben was having a hard time adjusting. I knew he was going to need a lot of counseling, but I couldn't think of anyone who had a better understanding of Ben’s situation than Andre. “But why so far outside of town? You have a huge house downtown.”

  “No yard and no schools. Besides, Lance has been begging me to sell him the house downtown for years. His offer is more than generous.”

  “Well I just wish you weren't moving so far away. Do the busses or streetcars even come out this far?”

  “Far from what? It's not like I'm moving across the lake. In case you forgot, you don't have the Decatur building anymore and I happen to know how much you hate calling headquarters home.” He took both my hands in his and gave me one of those intense, smoldering gazes that he seemed to have a patent on. “There's a sunny balcony out back that Gumbo would love. Do you think she’d get along with a dog?”

  “Gumbo would get along with an alligator.” The flippant answer was out of my mouth before my brain could process what Andre was asking me. His bemused expression caused a sudden, but not unpleasant, fluttering feeling in my stomach. “Are… are you asking me to move in with you?”

  “Actually, I was assuming more than asking,” he replied with a wicked smile.

  “Oh?” I asked as calmly as I could with my heart beating an erratic tap dance in my chest. “That’s a pretty big step forward.”

  “It is, and I'm ready to take that step.” He let go of my hands and slid his arms around my waist. “And the next, but I'm content to take them one at a time.”

  “Well, when you put it like that.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, paying no regard to the fact that we were in public, in front of a house that was not yet ours, or that the people passing by began to whistle and applaud our impromptu scene. “I can't wait to move in.”

  Book #3

  Mother of Darkness

  Chapter 1

  George shifted his weight from one leg to the other and cast a nervous glance around the darkened cemetery. Despite knowing that he was the most dangerous creature currently haunting the graveyard, the general state of hopeless neglect, that never seemed to get any better regardless of community cleanup efforts, set him on edge. He checked his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. His mysterious benefactor had told him to meet her at three thirty and it was now three forty-eight. He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and was about to check the instructions once again when he heard the sharp, staccato sound of footsteps approaching.

  “Is it done?” An ancient voice carried across the narrow alley moments before a shrouded figure stepped out of the shadows.

  “Yes, mistress,” George replied, bowing his head and keeping his eyes lowered to the glass strewn path until he felt the light pressure of her hand on his shoulder. Lifting his head, he met a pair of cold blue eyes, the only feature not covered by her black cloak, and stepped back, caught off guard. He could have sworn the last time he saw her they had been a deep shade of green. Of course, he could have been mistaken. It was only the second time she had appeared without her entire face obscured by a black mask. If she noticed his confusion, she did not let on.

  “And you have proof that you were successful?”

  “I do,” George replied. “I administered the serum to the copy and observed the effects over the course of one week before administering the same dose to the subject in the same manner.”

  “And what manner was that?” she asked.

  “I put it in their coffee. Neither noticed.”

  “You are sure of this?”

  “I am,” he replied confidently. “Both were more than willing to preach to me at length about the virtues of their bloodless lifestyle.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Very good, George. You have been most useful and I thank you. If you would please turn around and kneel before the monument.”

  “Mistress?” George hesitated. The unusual request set off a warning in his mind.

  “I grow impatient, George. The monument, please.”

  Swallowing the feeling of foreboding, George turned and sank to his knees in front of the gray stone, noting the worn engraving on the plaque, no longer legible after years of neglect. George wondered why humans put such value in honoring their dead, knowing that in such a short period of time, they too would be forgotten. Seconds later, all thoughts of the man entombed in the monument fled, as George felt something cold and metal against the back of his neck.

  “M-mistress?”

  “Be quiet!” she barked harshly. “For your efforts I shall spare your suffering and make this a quick death.”

  “Mistress, please!” George cried out. “I have been useful! I can b-be useful still! Give me another job. Give me something to do to prove that I am loyal!”

  The dark figure let out a low chuckle. “I have no more need for you, George. You have served me well, but you are not pure. You have lived like the swine, something that should be disgraceful even to someone born of a low station such as yourself. Consider your death to be my gift to you.”

  “No! Please!” George begged one last time, but his words were lost in the sound of the gunshot that echoed through the still cemetery. The woman then knelt, as George’s body slumped in front of the grave, and rolled him onto his back. Unrolling the canvas she carried, she draped it over his body like a funeral shroud. Surveying her handiwork, she smiled and stood up.

  “And then there was one. Surely you’ll solve the puzzle this time, won’t you, Conroy? I’m looking forward to the next stage of this game.”

  ***

  “Lucy, have you seen my walle
t?” Andre’s voice called down to me from the second floor landing.

  “Did you check the pants you were wearing last night?” I called back, wincing as the stabbing pain intensified behind my right eyeball.

  I had only come in from my shift fifteen minutes ago and all I wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep for days, but like most mornings, I had to put those plans on hold until Ben was off to school. I kicked off my boots and felt blindly for the slippers that I always left by the back door, groaning as my foot landed on something plush and slightly damp. Following the trail of wool and stuffing strewn about the kitchen floor, I found Monster, our black lab mix puppy, chewing on something that looked suspiciously like the sole of a slipper in the laundry room.

  As I bent down to grab what was left of the shoe, the headache that had been building steadily all night suddenly erupted with such force that I was temporarily blinded by a flash of light before my vision went completely black. I fell sideways, bracing my back against the cool metal of the washing machine as I waited for my natural defenses to kick in and make it stop. Instead of subsiding, the pain grew worse, amplifying my senses to the point where every slight movement, sound, or scent became a roaring cacophony of physical torture. Seconds later, though it felt like an eternity, the pain receded until all that was left was the dull throbbing behind my eye and a strange aching in my abdomen, as if I’d pulled a muscle.

  A cold, wet nose nudged its way between my head and my hands. I moved sideways just in time to avoid having the side of my face attacked with sloppy puppy kisses. Monster stared at me with curiosity, his too long tail wagging so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if his whole back end lifted off the ground. Whether he was concerned for my health or just happy that I was hanging out on the floor with him, I couldn’t tell, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. I was comforted by his presence, so I gave him a mess of puppy scrubs and a kiss on his tiny head before hauling myself back up and into the chaos that had become our weekday mornings.

  Not that I minded this kind of chaos. Whether it was Ben trying to sneak the cat to school in his backpack or the dog getting underfoot and chewing up the furniture, our morning adventures made me feel normal in a way that I had forgotten was possible. Given how completely screwed up everything else was, the fact that Andre and I had been able to set up a functioning and safe household was nothing short of a miracle.

  I entered the kitchen just as Ben was trudging down the back stairs.

  “Morning, kiddo!”

  “M-morning,” he yawned back, blinking several times as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight that streamed through the many windows. It had been the feature that sold me on the house, but at that moment, I was totally with Ben, the sun just seemed a little too bright. Of course, I was also still nursing a dull headache.

  “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “I got that covered.”

  I turned around and saw Isaac, my father, on the other side of the screen door, carrying a box from the Mexican restaurant down the street.

  “Alright! Breakfast tacos!” Ben was suddenly wide-awake and running around me to hold the door open for him. “Did you get salsa?”

  “Extra,” dad replied, setting the box on the table before turning to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “How’s my girl?”

  “Cranky and ready to hit the sack,” I said with a smile. “What brings you all the way out here? Not that I mind, especially when you come bearing gifts of food.”

  “Another one,” he said with a deep sigh. “Body and a message this time,” he added quietly so that Ben wouldn’t hear.

  I grimaced. When the government shut down the Eclipse project, we thought that everyone involved in the mass killing of vampire clans had either been killed or gone into hiding. But over the last few weeks, vampires had been turning up dead all over the city. Suspiciously, every one of the corpses showed up in places where they were likely to be found by one of our agents.

  “Did the vandalized grave belong to anyone of note?” I asked. That was another infuriating curveball. Some of the bodies had been found near the graves of some of New Orleans’ most notorious figures. Nearly every corpse also carried some small object or message that was clearly meant to be a clue in some sick game. Evan had every available mind working on finding out what these clues meant, but so far, we had no leads.

  “No one I’ve heard of, but I’m sending it off to the big brains as we speak,” he said and drew his phone from his pocket, squinting to read the name from the picture on the screen. “Horace Con- Coneero? I can’t make out the last few letters.”

  “Conneauroix?” Andre asked from where he had stopped on the stairs, gripping the banister and looking ashen. “Horace Conneauroix was my great-great grandfather. The name was Americanized to Conroy. He’s buried in Metairie Cemetery.”

  I set my breakfast down on the table, suddenly feeling ill and not very hungry. Luckily, Ben had taken advantage of our preoccupation and had slipped on a set of headphones to watch videos on his tablet. It was behavior that both Andre and I tried to discourage at the dinner table, but I pretended not to notice. The first ten years of his life were spent as a prisoner at Blackthorn Plantation, where he was hunted by Bluebeard’s sadistic guests. Of all the children who had been rescued, Ben seemed to have the most difficulty adjusting to normal life, which was the biggest factor in our decision to adopt him. He was only just beginning to believe that he was truly safe after the horrible life he had been subjected to and Andre and I did our best to make sure we didn’t talk about the organization’s current problems while he was around.

  “Well,” I said quietly, “at least we now know that the clues have definitely been intended for us.”

  “Does Evan know about this?” Andre asked.

  “I just sent it to him. I suppose I’d better get over there and see what else…” he trailed off as his phone rang. “It’s Evan,” he said and answered the phone.

  I glanced over at Andre, who had come over and stood next to me. “I can take Ben to school if you want to go over there.”

  “I might,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Let’s see what Evan says.”

  I busied myself by double-checking that Ben’s homework was in his school bag and sweeping up the remains of my slippers rather than listen to one side of my father and Evan’s conversation. I still had a dull headache and as I bent to dump the contents of the dustpan into the trash, I noticed that the waves of nausea had returned. This was alarming, considering that I don’t get sick. Sure, I’ve thrown up from nerves or extreme pain a few times, but thanks to my father’s genetics, I’ve never suffered from a virus or infection.

  I slipped quietly up the stairs and into the bathroom that was farthest from the kitchen. If I was going to get sick, the last thing I needed was for everyone to hear it in detail. Fortunately, the nausea subsided, but my forehead was cold and clammy to the touch. A glance in the mirror showed that my skin had a waxy sheen and the bags under my eyes were dark, as if I had been up for days. I splashed some cold water onto my face, which helped me look a little less like a corpse, and headed back downstairs.

  “You okay?” Andre asked with a frown.

  “I’m fine,” I said with a weak smile. “I guess I’m just a little more exhausted than I thought.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” my father said, “because Evan has requested that I drag you back to headquarters.”

  “Me?” I looked over at Andre cautiously. “I thought he’d want to talk to Andre, considering, you know, his family is involved.”

  “Apparently there was another clue found last night that Evan thinks falls into your area of expertise.”

  “It’s fine,” Andre said. “I’ll take Ben to school and call Evan a little later. Though I’m sure we’ll both receive official reports soon enough. Just don’t let him keep you up too much longer.”

  Ten minutes later, I was riding back to headquarters with my father, wondering what Evan coul
d have possibly received that would require my expertise, and still feeling as though I’d been run over.

  “Dad, do you have any idea what the flu feels like?”

  “No more than you do,” he replied. “Why, is Ben sick?”

  “No. Actually, I’m not feeling too hot. I know vampires generally don’t get sick and I’ve never been sick before, but it’s not impossible. I don’t know if something like West Nile or Bird Flu might be strong enough to affect me.”

  “I doubt even super viruses can do much to us,” he replied thoughtfully, frowning slightly as he thought about it. “What exactly do you think is wrong with you?”

  “I’m not sure, but just before you showed up I got a killer headache and I felt like I was going to throw up. The headache is gone now, but every time we hit a bump, my stomach heaves a bit.”

  He didn’t respond right away other than a slight nod, but I could tell he was thinking about something from his expression. It was the same one I used when I knew something, but I didn’t know how to approach the subject without it coming out of my mouth wrong.

  “You know, Lucy,” he started cautiously. “It is possible that you aren’t sick. There are other reasons you might be feeling nauseous.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well,” he looked uncomfortable, yet he was smiling.

  “Oh my god. You aren’t implying that I could be…” I couldn’t even say the word out loud.

  “Look, I don’t want to pry into that part of your life, Lucy, but what you are describing sounds a lot like morning sickness.”

  “That’s impossible! I mean yes, the possibility is there, but to be honest, Andre and I have barely seen each other in the last month, let alone…” I left the sentiment implied, not wanting to discuss my sex life with my father. “I’ll talk to Abe.”

  Chapter 2

  When we reached Evan’s office, it was not immediately clear as to why he asked for me instead of Andre. Holly and Mike, EJC’s two security officers, were standing in front of the conference table, blocking my view. But when they noticed us, they moved aside and I was able to draw a fairly logical conclusion.