Rider shrugged and we mulled it over.
"It's possible," I said. "But he appears to be acting, thinking, and talking on his own. There's no pause in processing."
"It doesn't rule it out," Logan said, "but it does tend to lean towards something living."
"I guess it's research time," I said.
"We have to go," Rider said. He looked like his spirits had been lifted considerably.
Vincent walked into the room. "We have gremlin duty." He looked at Rider and shook his head, but I saw the small grin that crept onto Vincent's face after looking at his partner. Rider loved the gremlins.
"We've got plenty of zip ties and metal in the truck if you need it," Logan said.
"We'll be back when we can. Stay safe," Vincent said.
"Einar came from the job site," I said after Vincent and Rider left. "I mean, from the Path I read, he was in the ground and climbed out."
"Like a zombie? Do you have zombies?" Ethan looked alarmed.
"Never confirmed," Logan said. "They’re only a rumor."
"I'm pretty sure a zombie would have a distinct smell," I said.
"Even after all those years?" Ethan asked.
"Do we know how long the graveyard was there?" I asked.
Logan slid a tablet over to me. "It wasn't your typical bone yard, more like a battlefield."
The file was open, so I started flipping slowly through the pages, worried about what pictures I might see. This part of the job sucked.
"They're bones." The relief in my voice was obvious, but I didn’t care.
"The few items excavated from the site give us a tentative timeline around the Civil War,” Logan said.
"I guess we can rule out cyborg," I mumbled and flipped past the photos of skeletons.
"Could something disguise its scent from Rider?" Ethan asked.
"Huh." I had never thought about that possibility.
Logan nodded. "Disguise, yes, but very few could actually get rid of their scent altogether. People are more apt to overwhelm the senses of a werewolf than mask the scent."
"Overwhelm it how?" Ethan asked.
Logan hesitated. He hated letting anyone know more about the Lost, even at the office.
"Would that be on file?" I asked Logan.
"Yeah, I guess it would be. To overwhelm the senses, someone would have to cover themselves or an area with as much potent scent as possible. Make it strong enough and it would override Rider's sense of smell, so he'd smell that and nothing else," Logan said.
"Rider smells objects, clay and stuff, so that doesn't seem like it's happening here." I thought for a while. "The other day we talked about a warlock. Could they do something like this?"
"Warlock?" Ethan asked.
"I suppose it's possible," Logan said, ignoring Ethan's question. "Both Einar and the warlock have an interest in you."
"Could they disguise the scent?" I asked.
"It's within their skill range, I'm sure, but I don't think they'd bother with digging something like Einar up."
"Einar thinks and reacts on his own. What else do we have?" I had an answer as soon as I asked. "There's the body parts. Einar has picked up bones, a head, uh..."
"Hands," Ethan offered, "the other body had hands missing."
My shiver was involuntary. "And we interrupted him last night on campus. So he didn't have a chance to take anything there."
"The victims all work for the government," Logan said.
"The type of jobs and branches of government aren’t related," Ethan said. "We're also pretty close to the capital, and we have a federal building here in town, not to mention all the local government. It could be a coincidence that they are all government employees. Not likely, but it's possible."
Logan crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. "If this thing came from the Civil War era, I'm not sure it'd make much difference to him."
"Are we suggesting that Einar was alive that long ago?" I asked.
"It's a possibility we have to consider," Logan said. "You saw his Path climb out of the ground."
Ethan shook his head. "I'm not sure my brain can make that big of a jump. This goes back to zombie territory. What could live that long?"
Once again, I turned to Logan.
"The Civil War wasn't as long ago as humans seem to think. The war ended around 1865. Not even two hundred years ago."
"Are there things that can live that long?" Ethan asked.
I did some quick mental math and realized that Logan was a kid at the time of the Civil War. Not in this dimension, but he was still alive.
The air turned thicker and I took a quick glance at my partner. "People, not things. Lots of people could have lived that long."
Ethan let out a disgruntled sigh. "This is so far over my head I can't see the top. I don't think I'll be much help here."
"Want to check the job site?" Logan asked. "Once we're sure all the bones are out of the ground, they'll be excavating the hole Einar came out of."
"It's past time I check in at the office anyway." There was some tension in Ethan's voice.
If Logan noticed the strain, or the fact that Ethan seemed to want to make it clear he wasn't taking direct orders, my partner didn't comment.
I automatically got up to walk Ethan out, but didn't say anything till we got to the door. Logan would be able to hear us even if he went home.
This day had had more ups and downs than a roller coaster. We stood awkwardly for a moment. The reluctance to talk came from not knowing what to say.
"Thank you for calling Logan earlier," I said.
Ethan took my hand. "He beat me to the call. I wish there was something more I could do. Are you going to be alright?"
"Yeah, it's...yeah." I didn't want to say, 'yeah, it's just my life.'
"And, us? Are we..."
It sounded as though he was as lost as I was, so I strained to smile. "You faced the fairy, remember?"
He grinned and kissed me. It wasn't a toe-curling kiss, but then, it hadn't been the best day for us.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" I asked.
"You will."
I squeezed his hand before dropping it, and I watched from the door until his car was out of site.
Back inside, Logan was on the phone with Hank. My partner’s voice was low until I came into the room. I got the distinct impression that the subject was changed. Before I walked in, there was whispering, and now Logan spoke in normal tones about work.
The cagey elf was good at keeping secrets and had over one hundred and fifty years of practice. I poured a cup of coffee and thought that over. To be this bad at hiding something, he must be doing it on purpose. Maybe he was actually leading up to confiding in me.
About him and Hank? It would be about time. Elves chose their mate for life, but Logan's wife had passed away more than fifty years ago, not long after Gerald was born. He may never have another true mate, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a relationship.
If that's what this was, I wished him more luck in his relationship than I ever found with mine.
With Logan on the phone, I gave Gran a call. She didn't answer, so I left a message. Her cat must have sensed the attempted contact with Gran. He came tearing into the room and jumped onto my lap.
Logan looked surprised, and then gave the cat a long, calculated look before signing off with Hank. "What got into him? No offense, but I thought that cat hated you."
"I think it's because I've been feeding him." I stroked the cat's fur until he started to purr. Even I was surprised by that, since he never purred for me.
"Maybe." Logan looked into the other room.
I followed his gaze. "What is it?"
Logan's ears unfurled slowly. When the thin tips had reached their points, the skin on the back of my neck began to rise.
Ding-Dong.
I jumped at the sound of the doorbell. This didn't make for a happy cat. He sunk his claws into my legs and stretched before jumping down. Even with his claws sinking
into my skin, it was a vast improvement over my previous relationship with the cat. He hadn't tried to hamstring me in days.
Logan sat watching the other room intently.
"I'm going to answer that." I'm sure Logan would have given me some sort of warning if I shouldn't have been going into the other room. Still, I felt uneasy walking across the living room to the door. It was only late afternoon, so the house was brightly lit, but I felt like there should be shadows lurking throughout.
I opened the door and plastered on another fake smile. "Hi, Taylor, thanks for coming."
Taylor looked me up and down. "I see you've been following my instructions to the letter."
I winced, remembering that it was doctor's orders to have a research day and take it easy. "If it helps, I'm researching now." I moved aside and waved him in.
"Was the rest of the day spent fighting?" He didn't sound angry or insulting, only resigned. He knew my job, and even more, he knew me.
I shut the door. "Thrown through a window."
"And this window was where?"
"A sorority house," I said, leading him into the kitchen.
He was looking at me expectantly, waiting for more details.
I sighed heavily. "The second story window of a sorority house."
"That looks more accurate. I should examine you."
"Hey, Doc," Logan said. His ears were back down, but he didn't seem his happy, smiling self.
"I presume you both had an interesting day?" Taylor asked.
"Yeah, couldn't be helped. Well, maybe in hindsight," Logan said.
Taylor looked at Logan for a few seconds before continuing. "Should I take a look?" He had never been Logan's doctor, but with Jonathan joining MyTH, he was probably becoming familiar with elven physiology. There may even be a few elves in the city.
"Just bruises, Doc. I don't break easy," Logan said.
Taylor continued to watch the elf with the same expectant look that he had given me.
"If it'll put your mind at ease,” Logan said. “I wanted to ask you a few questions about Jonathan anyway."
Taylor nodded.
"You can use my bedroom upstairs."
While they went upstairs, I checked the cat's water and left a treat in his bowl. He was content lounging in the kitchen. I chanced petting him twice on the head. From the look he gave me, I assumed that a third stroke would be one too many. Since I walked away unscathed, I called it a victory.
When Logan came back downstairs, I took his place with Taylor in my room.
"Tell me everything," Taylor said.
I gave him the run down, but directed him first to the gash on my arm that had taken so long to stop bleeding.
Taylor inspected the bandaging. "It seems as if someone has already looked after you. Logan?"
"Uh, no. My, uh, well, it was Ethan from last night." I think we were landing in boyfriend girlfriend territory, but I wasn't positive.
"Was he there today as well?"
"Yeah, he showed up."
Taylor nodded and started to re-bandage everything. "Was he injured?"
"No, only Logan and I were in the center of the action."
"Tell me about this afternoon and the package."
The smile whipped away from my face and a cool chill passed over me. "There's not much to say really."
Taylor took out a penlight and shined it into my eyes. "Go on."
"What is it with doctors and trying to blind their patients," I mumbled.
"You're stalling."
"It was...unpleasant. That's all." Just thinking about it left me shaky.
"Start from the beginning," Taylor said.
I took him through the arrival of the package and my discovery of its contents. I left off the part where I went upstairs and lost it.
Taylor finished his examination as we spoke.
"Was anything found when the box was processed?" Taylor asked.
"Not that anyone mentioned, but I wasn’t in a rush to ask," I said.
Taylor nodded. "Is there anything else I need to know?"
"I can't think of anything," I said. "Maybe Logan has something more."
It was an excuse to stop talking about my 'present' and turn things back over to Logan. It was hard to stop thinking about the box if people insisted on bringing it up.
Logan met us at the foot of the stairs.
"Where did you put the package?" Taylor asked.
"It's in the laundry room," Logan said.
"Down the hallway and to the right," I said, making no move to join Taylor.
"Do you have all the evidence you need before I get started?" Taylor asked.
"It's all yours," Logan said.
Taylor nodded and left the room while Logan and I returned to the kitchen where I settled back into my chair and woke up my laptop. It was past time to get into research mode.
The computer was still mostly unresponsive when Taylor returned looking troubled.
"Need anything?" I asked.
"You said it was in the laundry room. In the box in the laundry room?" Taylor asked.
"Yes," Logan said.
Taylor frowned. "It's not there."
Chapter 22
"The box isn't there?" I asked, not really wanting an answer.
"The box was there, on the floor, but it was empty," Taylor said.
My stomach churned. "Gran's cat must have-"
"We closed the door." Logan stood up slowly, but his ears shot to their points in an instant.
"It was still closed when I went in," Taylor said. "When I left the room, I left the door open. It must have been stunned or drugged."
Relief turned my legs to jelly. "That's so good to hear. Maybe something in shipping? What kind of idiot..."
Logan was shaking his head. "Sorry, I know it is dead. It wasn't breathing and had no heartbeat."
"There's someone in my house?" Dammit, once again my gun wasn't close at hand. That might be a good thing. My scales were starting to tip from freaked out to pissed off. It had been a long day. I started out of the room.
"Where are you going?" Logan asked.
I didn't bother stopping. "I'm going to get my gun and shoot whoever broke into my house."
I dashed upstairs, and snagged my holster and gun. When I went back downstairs, the kitchen looked empty. I could hear Logan and Taylor down the hallway.
"Did you all find, um, anything?" I called.
"There's no one else here," Logan said.
It sounded like he was in the laundry room. Maybe Taylor had overlooked the rabbit. I wasn't about to join them.
It felt better with my gun handy at my side, though.
My coffee was still warm when I sat back down next to my computer. They could handle...well… they could handle everything else. Research was what I needed. Dull, mind-numbing research that would scour the past few days out of my thoughts.
Using the links Neil had set up for me, I did a quick search in the MyTH data banks on created life forms and clicked into the first research report.
It was dull, which I could handle, but it didn't take me long to figure out it was about bacteria splicing and had nothing to do with what we were looking for. I backed out and tried door number two.
Gran's cat brushed up against my leg while I started reading the article. It was more like he ran into it, but I'll take what I can get. While reading, I reached down and scratched his head.
The fur was too soft. The ears too long. The skin, far too cold.
My breath caught and I yanked my hand away. I didn't want to look down, but there really wasn't a choice. I saw the white fur of the rabbit and the dried red blood on his coat.
Shoving away from the table I nearly tripped over my feet while putting distance between the bunny and me. My heart hammered inside my chest like a troll's fist. Somewhere between leaving my chair and reaching the wall, my gun ended up in my hand.
The gun was already pointed at the rabbit, which was watching me. At least it appeared to be loo
king. The thing’s eyes looked cloudy. It half-jumped half-lurched forward. One back leg didn’t appear to be working well.
Fear hobbled my thinking, but reaching for the Path was instinct. The turbulent shimmer of the Path cascaded over my world.
After the extremes of the day, I couldn't handle my own strength. My vision started to gray around the edges, but I focused hard on the creature before me.
What Logan had said was true. The thing trying to lurch towards me wasn't alive. It had the Path of a creature, but no spark and there were signs of decay in the Path.
Reading drained me to a standstill, but there was no way I was dropping the Path. Adrenaline surged when the dead rabbit bounced again, aimed at me. It gave me the strength to move towards the living room, but within seconds, it left me even more exhausted, and only the wall kept me upright.
My vision became narrower, and there was only the rabbit from hell and me. If I started to read its Path, really read it and follow it, I might get some answers. There was no way I would make it back to share what I found. I wanted to pull the trigger to force the little fluffer away, but the gun may as well have been a hood ornament at this point. I didn't know where the cat was, much less my partner and Taylor. Who knows what I would hit if I shot.
At the next lurch of white terror, instinct made me jump back. Since I was already against the wall, the only thing I managed was to smack my head.
Taylor gripped my shoulders and hauled me away. Bright lights popped into the Path and it was only Taylor’s arms keeping me on my feet. My gun was taken away and Taylor let me fall unceremoniously onto the couch.
It was still in there. The Path grew brighter while I watched Logan and Taylor at the entrance to the kitchen. Soon, they turned gray and disappeared, leaving bursting lights behind.
Then the world began to fade.
Shadowy forms lurched around in the darkness, always out of sight. My body felt like it was being drawn downward. A heavy weight was crushing me under the ground, deep into the earth. I could smell dirt and decay. The air felt cold, only to be followed immediately by intense heat.
At some point, my brain kicked into gear and told me that nothing was real. Then the shadows started to close in, and any hints of rational thought flew out the window. Darkness swirled together to form some semblance of an old man. He cackled before fading away. A gray rabbit sprinted across the edges of my vision, but was gone before I turned my head. Einar stepped out of nowhere. He took my hand. When I tried to wrench myself away, I could see that his hand had melded into my own. Einar moved towards me, then into me. He sank into me everywhere that his pale cold skin touched mine.
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