House Of Bones (Cast In Shadow Book 1)

by A J Brahms

  "Sorry. You…you're gonna have to get us in, Aby."

  "Don't call me that." Gargoyles had an affinity with buildings, especially those made mostly of some sort of stone. Like this one was. They could add themselves to the stone and rearrange it, just like they could do in their own bodies. How? Magic. Ever wondered how a Gargoyle could fly? I mean, they're made of freak'n stone.

  With me leaned up against the wall, I watched in a haze as he cracked his knuckles and shifted right there. Boom. Gargoyle. About seven feet tall, hideous face only a mother could love, large ears, one hell of a six pack, thick thighs, and talons on his hands and feet. And let's not forget the size of those wings.

  He immediately put his hand into the wall, where it easily disappeared. Then he put his other hand in and carved out a door. I summoned up a bit of energy, moved to that door, and fell through it. Aberdeen came in behind me, closed it, and returned back to his professor form. He'd put us in a closet, which was a good thing…except I fell as my legs went out from under me and knocked something over. It made clanging noises and Aberdeen hissed.

  We waited for someone to open the door. When no one did, he peeked out and then came back to me. "You're going into shock, Ren. Which way to the sink?"

  "J-just hold me up." I was shaking. And it was hard to hold myself up on my feet. It wasn't just the loss of blood, but the loss of Vampire blood that was killing me. Vampire blood is what animated me. Without it, I was dust. And right now, it was sieving through me like water over a cliff.

  He got me back up and supported me under my left arm. "You know I'd get it for you if I could, Ren."

  I knew he would. And some would ask, why couldn't he? It was simple. A Gargoyle's primary job is to cast out evil. To purify. And if Aberdeen got too close to the blood in its raw form—poof. Insta-sanctified. And there wasn't time to order more. Not to mention Carson was missing.

  No one seemed to be in the halls as we made our way to the locker room. Carson's locker had been sealed with yellow tape, which alarmed me. I pointed to the sink cabinet where I'd stuffed my bag. Me and the bag hit the floor, and I started going through everything I'd pulled from Carson's locker.

  A box tumbled out and I ripped it open. The inside was filled with foam and nestled in the center was a vial, filled with a red liquid. I could smell it through the glass and my parched mouth watered at the thought, even though I knew it was going to taste like ass.

  I got the top open and stopped.

  "Ren…what's wrong?"

  "If I drink this, I'll be as dead a corpse for twenty-four hours. I can't do that here." I swallowed. "Crap…the Southern Living shoot."

  "I'll call and reschedule. You don't have any time left, Ren. You've lost too much blood and you need that. Hell, I'm not even sure that's going to be enough."

  "Aby—"

  "Stop calling me that. Just trust me that I won't let anything happen to you. Okay?"

  My vision was failing. It was now or never.

  So I swallowed it all at once.

  And it tasted like ass, like it always did.

  But the miracle of life it gave me ignited in bursts of colors before me, and the last thing I saw was Aberdeen as he stuffed things back into my bag.

  Nine

  I did say that Ghouls don't sleep. That's not exactly true. We do sleep for twenty-four hours after the first drink of a Vampire's blood within a thirty day lunar cycle. As far as I knew, any drinking after that within those thirty days, triggered the beginning of a Ghouling, but only if it was from the same Vampire. This was how Elizabeth had first taken me, by giving me her blood and then taking me during that sleep to where I couldn't escape the next feeding.

  After having not slept on a nightly routine for the past fifty-two years, I don't consider the necessary regenerative sleep an actual…well…sleep. It's more like a coma. I drink. I tune out. Literally. I become just as vulnerable as a Night Walker in their place of rest during the day.

  It's like being one of those little roly poly bugs, or I think they call them pill bugs? If you touch them they roll into a ball, and then you can thumb them around and they wake up in a whole new world. I know that's a really simple analogy, but I haven't found a better one.

  I'm open to suggestions.

  But that's how I felt when I finally did open my eyes. I felt strong again. The dry mouth and thirst were gone, and my senses were once more greatly enhanced. So much so I could hear voices somewhere. They were muffled, as if coming through a wall. It was also dark. I could see, and the details of where I was slowly started to sink in.

  I was in a box. A seriously small box. Reaching up, my fingers encountered cold metal. Alloy. And painted or finished smooth. I was still dressed in the bloody clothing I'd been in after my interrogation by Ryan and the subsequent attack of those… What the hell were they? I'd meant to ask Aberdeen as much…but it didn't seem as important as me not dying at the time.

  Priorities.

  And now my priority was to figure out where I was and how did I get out of it?

  I knew I'd been out for twenty-four hours. That was a given. So that would mean it was after dark a day later. I'd lost a day on this mystery. Balls.

  Closing my eyes, I called on Occam. She answered my call with a caw and eventually I could see again through her monochromatic vision and beheld the Atlanta skyline. Show me where I am, I thought to her.

  The images shifted at a dizzying speed as she spiraled down into the roof of a building. Everything became familiar when she landed on the back of a chair at a desk in a very familiar room. I recognized the desk. And the chair. The tables covered in bodies beneath sheets. The blinding overhead lights. And the sterile, chlorine smell of cleanser.

  And when I said, Where am I? I also recognized the wall of drawers in the back of the room.

  I'm still in the morgue! Why the hell did Aberdeen leave me in the morgue and not take me home?

  Two technicians were washing a body on one of the main examination tables. I didn't want to suddenly jump out of the drawer I'd apparently been stuffed into—no need giving both of them a coronary. So I had to wait until they left…which took freak'n foreeeeeeever.

  Once they were gone, I had a mild moment of panic when I realized I had no idea if these drawers opened from the inside. I mean…they're made for the dead and why have a latch inside if the contents weren't supposed to be moving anyway, right?

  I was still barefoot and used my feet to feel around the front of the drawer. There were several depressions and one of them actually clicked when I pushed it with my big toe. Light filled the inside of drawer when it opened a little, and I used my hands on the ceiling to walk my way out, pushing the sliding slab beneath me forward. Within minutes I was out in the open and blinking at the light.

  The light Carol Ann!

  I spotted Occam on the back of the chair again, squawking at me, sending me images that just didn't make any sense. Police tape. Police in uniform. And Aberdeen…

  As a Gargoyle. On top of my apartment building.

  What the hell's been happening? I made an attempt to get off the slab and did a beautiful drop to the floor when my knees didn't quite realize I needed their cooperation. Waking from one of these comas was a bit…er…disorienting.

  The door to the room opened when I hit the floor and I panicked, trying to come up with some reason I was beside a now empty drawer and covered in blood. I was going to give these poor guys that heart attack anyway, it seemed.

  "Christ, you're finally awake," came Meehan's voice.

  Wait…Luke Meehan?

  I blinked up at him as he pulled me to my feet and lifted one of my arms over his shoulder. I stared at him, not quite sure what to say. I'd never shared this part of my life with anyone I worked with—mostly because I couldn't remember ever being this dumb before.

  But here was Luke Meehan, detective and two-year friend, helping me out of the morgue and into the basement. We stumbled out of one of the side doors and into his car…whi
ch was running. I collapsed into the back, even though my strength had returned, because of who was driving the car.

  Julie Wallace.

  She turned to look at me when Luke got in the passenger seat. "Buckle up, Ren."

  I just nodded stupidly and did what she said. She pulled the car out into the light evening traffic and headed into town.

  I didn't say anything for a long time, aware of Occam following us above.

  "You okay, Ren?" Luke asked when he glanced back at me.

  What was I supposed to say? I'm fine…but how did you know I'd be emerging from a morgue drawer?

  Nothing seemed appropriate, so I just stared at him.

  "Look—" He held out his hand. "Aberdeen told us what happened."

  I blinked at him, shocked that my Gargoyle had confided in humans, especially with me in that weakened condition. "Okay."

  "It took a lot of convincing," Julie said from the driver's seat. "He's very protective of you."

  "Long history. So…" I rubbed at my face. "You guys were just waiting on me to pop out like a piece of toast? Wouldn't the morgue director think that was odd, you two hanging around?"

  Luke shook his head. "No. Look…there's something we need to tell you, and I think it might help you with us."

  Was this a different reality? Did I warp to weirdo world?

  "Julie and I are part of a…" He looked sideways at Julie. "How would you describe us?"

  "The department of weird," she said, and I could see her eyes smiling in the rearview mirror. "It's called the Special Investigations Service."

  I licked my lips. "This is this SIS thing I kept hearing rumors about." I looked at Luke. "That's you guys." I sort of knew this. I mean about them being part of something weird. They'd seemed to accept my state of not-really-human with little fuss, and I knew the world really didn't operate like that. Most people would have done one of two things: kill me, or experiment on me.

  "And a few others, but yeah. We've been watching you unconventionals for a while. Unconventional is a better code word than supernaturals. We watch and we monitor, but we only interfere when humans are affected."

  Yep. Alternate universe. I woke up in a different reality. I really wasn't sure that was good blood I ingested. Maybe it was laced with Fairy blood, 'cause that shit caused hallucinations.

  As Julie drove us past my apartment building, where I spotted a few black-and-whites parked outside, Luke continued, "You already know that we're aware of the Families, the Night Walkers. We know about the Fairies and the wolves. But we're also aware there is still a lot out there we don't know about."

  "Like me." I stared at him.

  "Yeah." He frowned. "Ever wonder about our first meeting, Ren? The fact I called you for that crime scene job? How did I know you existed?"

  Maybe I could jump out the window…

  Luke nodded to Julie. "Ask her."

  I didn't ask. I just looked at her in the rearview mirror.

  "Your name flagged on a case we were working about a year ago. I looked you up. You…intrigued me, especially after we dismissed you as a suspect."

  "You looked me up." I was pretty sure I'd made sure not to leave any kind of digital footprint. "But you would have found what I wanted you to find."

  "And I did. You were born in Oregon, raised in Portland, came to the East Coast to seek opportunity as a photographer. It's basically the truth. There's just one problem."

  "What?"

  She made a sharp turn right and we were suddenly back on the interstate. "Your fingerprint."

  I didn't understand. My Master had melted my fingerprints decades ago, when forensic science started making strides in fingerprint identification. It was harsh and painful, since my body regenerated, same as her own. But I was eventually maimed. "That's not possible."

  "Well, it was actually your footprint, in a manner of speaking. Your toes, Ren. Birth records. They always made prints of fingers and toes. I lifted your footprints and ran them." She merged into traffic. "You were born in 1939. You grew up the youngest son to a newspaper reporter, who later went on to cover the Vietnam War after his son mysteriously disappeared in 1964. You were born William Renwick Grainger. Your brother was Richard Edward Grainger. Your sister is Margaret Grainger Stephens. You have seven nieces and nephews and five great nieces and nephews, none of which you have ever seen."

  I swallowed. It was like being in an interrogation room with a spotlight trained on my life. And I didn't like it. I'd spent a lot of time hiding myself, surviving in a world so different than what my family understood. What the world really understood. While they fought in politics and rights, I existed in the underbelly, in a shadow world that could one day come to the surface.

  "Ren, we're not trying to put you on the spot. We just want to you to know we're in your corner."

  "Corner? I feel like you just backed me into that corner. Digging up my past like that is dangerous, not just to me, but to them." I put my hands on the head rests of both seats and leaned forward. "You don't have any idea what you could have set in motion, do you?" If I sounded harsh, it was because I was mad. All the work I'd done, all the protections I'd put up to make sure my family lived long and healthy lives could be shattered by their stupid inquiries.

  "No. We don't," Julie said, and I didn't care for her tone. "Aberdeen gave us a similar lecture. Only he used bigger words that made us feel stupid."

  "Made you feel stupid," Luke said. "Not me. I know those words."

  Wait… "Aberdeen knows that you know about me…and you know about him?"

  "Yeah, he told us he's studying you. Making you his life's work." Julie rolled her eyes. "The guy's got to be in his sixties…maybe seventies…seems kinda creepy that he follows you around. Ever considered he might have the hots for you?"

  I sat back and suppressed a sigh. Good. They didn't know what Aberdeen was. They only knew the cover we worked to create for him. He'd done nothing to make them suspect that such things as Gargoyles existed. So at least his cover wasn't blown. He was just an eccentric professor, knowledgeable in myths and legends. Which was pretty much the base truth. So what if he was also a protector against evil?

  "Now," Luke said, "with all of that in the open, we only know what you've told us, that you're part of the Night Walker culture. But you're not one of them. You don't drink human blood."

  I pursed my lips. "So…where are you taking me and why were those police at my apartment building?"

  They exchanged glances and I did not like that.

  "While you were…sleeping," Luke said, and I figured from the way he emphasized sleeping he knew it meant more than the simple definition. "We got a tip that there had been a series of murders in this abandoned house south of the city. When we got there, we didn't find anything except handcuffs, a bucket of cold water, and your wallet, phone and blood. That blood was in the shape of a human footprint."

  I put my hand to my face. "Crap…did they match that footprint with mine the way you guys did?"

  Again, they looked at each other.

  I gave a snort. "You two are going to have to stop doing that. I've missed twenty-four hours and I get the feeling something's wrong."

  "We were able to stop the search into your footprint until we can correct the information that led us to you and your discrepancy in age. What we couldn't do was hide your driver's license. Or the blood. We are working on them not analyzing it because we don't know what they'll find."

  This was bad.

  Julie spoke up, "But the police do want to talk to you, and when they couldn't find you, they weren't sure if you were a victim or not. So they searched your apartment."

  I put my head in my hands. "What did they find?"

  "Not much really," Julie said. "Just a lot of your pictures, the ghost pictures, which weren't part of their search parameters so they weren't allowed to take them. Luke and I supervised since Aberdeen told us where you were. And don't be upset. He said he left you there because that was the safest place."<
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  "Because finding me in a coma in my apartment would have been bad?"

  "No…" Luke said. "Because the Church has now reported us, the three of us, as harassing them and now they have members who are missing. Three of them."

  "Let me guess," I said. "Teddy, Jeff, and Thomas. Thomas who is actually Ryan Guess."

  "I think it's your turn to tell us what happened."

  "Where are we going?" And then I recognized the neighborhood. We were in a suburb in Norcross and pulling into one of those wooden, California-style homes. "This is Julie's house."

  "Yes," she said and we all got out. I was completely healed now, and stronger than ever. But I seriously needed a bath. I could still smell the blood. "Aberdeen brought clothing for you, as well as your bag of cameras."

  I didn't say much as I got out of the car in her driveway. I was still trying to come to grips with what was happening. I stopped before we went into the house. "Am I a suspect in anything?"

  "Not that any evidence proves," Luke said as he closed the car door. A gust of wind blew leaves from the trimmed lawn across the concrete driveway. Luke immediately shrugged his jacket back on, and I was very aware I was wearing a bloody shirt, jeans, and no shoes. "I'm more curious who it was that called in what happened in that house. The only person who would know you were being held there would be someone involved in putting you there."

  I followed them inside and deeply inhaled Julie's air freshener. The scent of apples and cinnamon was a lot more pleasant than the smell I was exuding. "But that would mean there was a fourth human, and I never sensed one."

  "So you really can sense humans?" Julie shut the door behind me. "Like, is it a smell thing?"

  "No, it's a heartbeat thing," Aberdeen said as he joined us in the kitchen, where we'd come inside. He held a folded towel in his arms and a bottle of shampoo. "Ren possesses many of the attributes of a Night Walker."

  "Though not as strong." I figured the towel and shampoo were for me and I took them from him. "A Vampire can hear more than just your heartbeat and some of them can hear your thoughts. That wasn't one of my…" I hesitated, knowing the titles the Night Walker society used weren't as palatable for humans. Hell, they weren't for me either. I never enjoyed calling anyone my Master, but when she lived, and her blood was alive…no other word could come from my lips. "Maker's…Gifts."