Something In The Water (Cast In Shadow Book 2)

by A J Brahms

  They were all dressed in their usual black leather, flowing locks, taking the stereotype to a whole new level. Occam soared overhead and landed on top of a city lamp post. If I wanted to, I could see from her point of view. "Well, hello boys," I said as I approached and kept my hands where they could see them. "What can I do for you?"

  I heard the tires squeal before I heard the engine. When I turned to look, I spotted a large black van barreling through the empty parking lot toward me.

  Occam and my enhanced senses warned me of the Night Walker's movements. I knew Aubrey wasn't moving. I could see that from Occam's point of view. But the other two had their fangs out and their claws. I made a split decision. I was wired to protect Night Walkers, but only the Elders. The ones whose age had changed them inside and on the outside. Like Aubrey.

  These two were young—maybe twenty, thirty years turned. And I was sure they'd never encountered a Ghoul.

  Much less a Chevalier.

  I dropped the bag straight down as the two of them leapt into the air, all fancy and badass. I also dropped my body, bending back at the knees and holding myself like that long enough for them to collide into each other in mid air because the object of their attack—me—wasn't there anymore. I popped back up and as they fell back on their asses, roundhouse kicked the one to my right. I heard his jaw crack as I my booted foot broke his mandible. As a Chevalier, I always wore metal shoes of some kind. Even my sneakers weren't just normal sneakers.

  Vampires weren't invulnerable. The younger ones could be hurt and they would need blood to heal. And since they seemed bent on doing me harm—I had no problem hurting them.

  When the other one saw what I did, he had a tiny fit. "How DARE you! You are nothing! You'll pay for that!"

  I learned a long time ago that Spiderman was better at banter during a fight than me, so I kept quiet as I evaded the other Night Walker, ducked when he tried to lunge at me and then kicked his ass with my boot when he blew past where I was.

  I looked at Aubrey as the van came to a halt and two older Night Walkers stepped out. Neither of them tried to grab me. They just stood by the van and opened the side door.

  "You," I pointed at Aubrey as I picked up my bag. "You let me do that. You knew I'd defend myself against them."

  Aubrey shrugged. He had his hands clasped in front of him. "They're young. Stupid. And they don't know about Chevaliers. I figured, this way, they would learn a lesson and I could see you work." He gave me a half smile. "The Prince wants to see you."

  "About what?"

  One of the older vampires struck me from behind. The strength of the blow, and the fact I wasn't actually expecting it, launched me forward right into Aubrey's hands, which he placed around my neck. He lifted me off my feet and my bag dropped again. I put my hands on his wrist as my feet dangled a few inches off the ground. I couldn't breathe…and as a Ghoul, I still needed air!

  "Aubrey…" One of the other Night Walkers said as the young ones started getting up off the asphalt.

  "You," Aubrey's eyes were red now, and I could feel his power moving over me like an insect's feelers. He was exerting the first stage of claiming—something he was forbidden to do. I'd been given clemency by Jedediah, and no matter what it was he'd seen in my blood, that order still stood.

  Or so I hoped.

  My muscles locked up as his power increased and the Night Walker blood inside of me began to sing. Occam came down from her perch and started cawing, over and over. If he didn't stop, she was going to attack him, and there's one thing about my Raven—she couldn't be killed.

  Not by a Night Walker.

  With no other choice, Occam dove at Aubrey, ripping gashes in Aubrey's cheek as she flew by.

  Then I was falling and my knees gave and I was on the ground, gasping for air. I looked up to see one of the other Elders shoving Aubrey against my car and they were arguing in Latin. And then the kids were up and kicking the bully that busted their ass on the playground. I pulled myself into a ball and continued coughing as my lungs burned, taking the kicks from creatures a hell of a lot stronger than humans.

  And it hurt.

  "Stop!" came a voice I didn't recognize, so I assumed it was one of the new Night Walkers. "Pick him up and get him into the van, and then the two of you can explain the Ghoul's condition to the Prince."

  I was hauled to my feet and I tasted blood. Mine. And I knew my nose was broken, so was my jaw, and I had some internal bleeding.

  I was in bad shape. But I could hear Aubrey and the other Night Walker from inside the van.

  "….in danger everything you've worked for. He's not worth it."

  "But he's the reason Beau's where he is."

  "Beau was a traitor. Beau killed our Patriarch, Aubrey."

  "I don't know that." Aubrey's voice sounded strained. "And I can't just take Jedediah's word, Oberon. I have to know for myself. And that Ghoul is the only one who does know because he spoke to Ellery. I have to see the betrayal for myself."

  I felt a bit of panic then, knowing that Aubrey wanted to look inside of my head the way Jedediah had. And yet, in the same breath, he'd assured me that Jedediah hadn't actually shared the memory. As the van door slammed shut, I knew Jedediah had only told his Family that Beau had killed Ellery Talmadge and hadn't shared what he saw in my blood. My secret had been kept.

  For now.

  My treatment changed once we arrived at Cimitir Hall. I was carefully removed from the van and carried in through a service door. I felt my stomach roll as I was taken upstairs and gently set on top of a bed. I opened my eyes and watched as the bed's canopy swirled overhead. I'd become a mouth breather because cartilage was blocking my airway.

  Was I dying? It felt like dying.

  It felt like…

  It FUCKING HURT!

  That's when the whispers started. The voices I'd heard weeks ago when I entered this building. I knew they came from the bones tossed into the basement of this house. The repository of the Talmadge history stored in the bones—no, the lingering essence—of those who inhabited them.

  One of the little known horrors of being a Night Walker is that passing on isn't possible. Once the body is actually destroyed, either by decapitation or fire, and sometimes dismemberment, the soul or essence lingers on, forever bound to the bones it inhabited. It's really not a pretty story and a very good incentive for Night Walkers to not die.

  Ever.

  A few weeks ago we'd all learned that I could speak to those spirits directly with their blood, or the blood of a Childer created from their blood. Jedediah gave me his blood so I could speak with Ellery, his Sire. And from the connection the truth was learned as to who killed him, who betrayed the Talmadge Family and destroyed my Master's Family.

  The Hernes.

  So many hidden secrets down there in that basement, and they knew I could hear them. So they raised their voices in a deafening cacophony of demands, shouts, threats, and even a few bribes until the pain in my head rivaled the pain in my body.

  Something brushed against my side and I felt movement through the haze. A hand behind my head and then I smelled it.

  Blood. Strong.

  Vampiric.

  "No…" I muttered as I tried to push them away, but I tasted my own blood again.

  "Ren," came Jedediah's voice. "This is something Ellery used to mix so the voices wouldn't…overwhelm him."

  I refused him, leaning above me. His white hair fell forward as he gave me a smirk. I was surprised at the candor in his voice. The last time he spoke to me I felt only anger from him. Had something changed?

  I managed to sit up on one elbow and swallowed the mixture. Oh Gawd…and it was worse than Vampire blood. But it had a taste…

  Too late I realized it was real Night Walker blood—but it was mixed with something else. Something like herbs…

  I choked and felt it burn on the way down. But the Night Walker element of it was already working on my wounds, mending my nose and the internal damage. Within minutes I
was sitting up, well again—though I had blood on the front of my shirt—and the voices were more of a murmur than a thunderous roar.

  "You're that repulsed by the idea of being owned again, Mr. Grainger?" Jedediah moved a chair to the bed.

  I swallowed a few times and looked around. The bedding was gold colored, with lots of browns in the pattern. The walls were wallpapered with small gold fleur de lune patterns. A large gold, maroon and brown rug covered the hard wood floor in the center of the room. The furniture was all white and looked old. I wasn't an antique expert but I was confident the furnishings were legit and Jedediah probably bought them new.

  I didn't answer him either as I waited to find out what this was all about.

  Jedediah sat in the chair, leaned back and crossed his legs. He was dressed in a white button down shirt, jeans and slippers. He didn't look like a powerful head of a Night Walker Family. Yet even I could feel the power emanating from him. Jedediah wasn't someone to toy with. "No answer?"

  "I'm waiting to see why you had your lackeys beat me up and bring me here."

  "I didn't order them to beat you up. Aubrey said you resisted."

  I arched my brow at him. "Have you ever known me to resist when you've called for me? Have I never answered you? Or not come through for you?" I thought maybe he'd show anger at Aubrey, or even apologize. But he didn't. Instead, he just stared at me. I looked at the cup on the nightstand. "Whose blood?"

  "Not mine."

  I knew Jedediah was aware of the ritual to make a Ghoul, or even re-Ghoul an abandoned one. But he'd also given me protection when he learned my Master had no survivors, which left me a loner. A rogue. And legitimate. A Ghoul is made by feeding a human a Night Walker's blood three times at the right intervals. The first taste makes them susceptible, so they are ordered to stay. The second bonds them to the Night Walker. They would do anything for them.

  It's the third drink that initiates the changes, creates the fever and if the human survives, makes the Ghoul. I know how basic that sounds but that's all my Maker ever told me. To make a Chevalier like myself…that takes even more time and effort and a lot…and I mean a lot, of blood. The Chevalier's and the Night Walker.

  Because I sustain my immortality on Night Walker blood, Jedediah was very much aware I came by it illegally, in a legal way. It was illegal for a third party to sell the blood, but not for the donor to sell it. There were plenty of vamps out there who had no problem bleeding for ten grand a pint. More for the older vintages.

  But the most expensive vintage, the blood that could actually prolong my existence longer than a month and return me to full strength, was the blood of an Ancient. Ancients were Night Walkers well past the five Century mark. Five hundred years seemed to be the grand age when the mental changes caught up with the physical. Mental capacity was enhanced along with their power. If a Night Walker at two hundred years of age could mentally destroy a house using telekinetic power, then a five-hundred-year old Night Walker with the same power could lay waste to a city skyscraper.

  There was just one problem with the Ancients, and that was finding them. Once those mental facilities matured, so did their ability to keep their attention in the here and now. I'd never known an Ancient, but my Maker had told me stories of them. Of her own Sire sitting for days, months, years, staring into nothing and yet living and taking in no blood. They became statues, vulnerable, and sometimes impossible to wake. When these lapses in consciousness took them, Ancients learned to prepare sanctuaries, fortresses known only to them, and many had Ghouls to protect them.

  So if one were ever found and bled, their blood could not only make Ghouls stronger, but enhance the Gifts of a Night Walker.

  I had to drink once a month. Emmet Carson had been my seller, and now he was on a morgue slab. So I had experienced a mild bit of panic when considering where my next fix would come from.

  Why not just buy up several months worth and not put myself through this worry? Because Night Walker blood had a shelf life. And it couldn't be exposed to the sun. If it was…poof!

  So I had to get it before I needed to drink it. If I hadn't have already fed, and if I'd have tasted it directly from Jedediah's body, it would have started the process of re-Ghouling me. Luckily he'd given it to me in a container. Ready. With herbs.

  Healing herbs. And something else I couldn't identify.

  Dawning came to me and I shook my head as I looked at my hands. "You son of a bitch."

  "I'd be careful with names, Mr. Grainger."

  "You knew Aubrey was going to have his goons put a beat down on me." I looked at him. "And you know that when a Ghoul is damaged their bodies use what Night Walker blood remains inside of them to heal. So you let my own blood begin to heal before you gave me that." I nodded to the cup. "You're trying to weaken me."

  Jedediah crossed his arms over his chest. "You have a very vivid imagination, Mr. Grainger. Though for once, you are correct. I wanted to remind you that we can take you at any time and starve you until you would gladly drink from me. Or even better, from Aubrey, because he would love to have you as a plaything. I don't need to tell you about his…proclivities toward the male gender, Mr. Grainger."

  He used to call me Ren. I swallowed. "So why are you reminding me?"

  "I felt it was necessary."

  "Because you're pissed off at me."

  He lowered his arms, put his hands on the arm rests of the chair and leaned toward me, his hair falling over his shoulders. "Because you lied to me. I don't know how you did it. How you were able to trick my inquisitors about your past, and about your Master. Maybe that's part of your Chevalier training—I don't know." He paused. "But I wanted you to remember you are subservient to us."

  "Have I ever acted otherwise?" I moved to the edge of the bed and put my feet on the floor. "I have never deceived you, Jedediah. I have acted as your Chevalier without the blood bond. I have worked with you. I have submitted to everything you have ever wanted of me—"

  "But you didn't tell me what I saw!" He was on his feet.

  And I was on mine. "Because it was private! Between she and I, Jedediah." I put a finger to my own chest. "My Maker commanded me." And then I looked away. "It was her last…command."

  He turned away and lowered his head. "I saw it all, but I can't understand how she could have wanted that."

  "It was a difficult time," I started and then stopped. My Maker's compulsions were long gone, and I in truth, could have told him everything. But I'd given her my word and I would never break that. I moved away from him. "So if the only reason you brought me here was to torture me for your own pleasure, I'd like to leave now."

  Several beats passed by before Jedediah shook his head. "We need your help."

  I didn't know if he was serious or not. "Help?"

  "Yes." He straightened and pulled his hair behind his ears. "I need you to Whisper, Ren. It's the root reason I wanted you to drink that blood with those herbs."

  "What were those herbs, Jedediah?" I looked at the cup. "I know they weren't just healing. Why is there wormwood in the mix?" Then I looked at him again. "Whose blood was that?"

  "It was the target's blood." He lifted the left side of his mouth. "We've always required the blood of Childers and Sires for this very reason. You drank my blood to focus on Ellery, and now you've had the target's Childer's blood. Some of the herbs I added will help you focus, some helped heal you, and the wormwood has its own purpose."

  I was still pretty sure he was leaving something out.

  Jedediah set his lips in a thin line. "There has been an incident with a rogue."

  Good. Something physical I could help with. "Rogue….vampire? Sorry, Night Walker? Faerie? Werewolf?"

  "Ghoul."

  Balls.

  Three

  Of all the things I believed Jedediah would say, Ghoul wasn't one of them. Since losing my Master I hadn't really kept up with other Ghouls. With their creation being banned, and then being declared a tolerated rogue myself without a Family
to serve, I'd kept a low profile. So showing myself hadn't always been my first choice of introduction. And Ghouls didn't always sense other Ghouls, not the way we sensed Night Walkers.

  I had heard there were a few nearby, in neighboring states, and some in Europe. But…a rogue Ghoul…here?

  "That's what I do like about you…Ren. You don't lie very well and your face usually betrays your emotion."

  I would take that as a compliment, and the fact he used my first name. Maybe he wasn't as mad at me as I thought?

  Jedediah clasped his hands behind his back. "Let me get to the point. The incident is a theft. This Ghoul, Mia Traven, stole something very important, a relic that had been housed in the mother Safe House in New York."

  "What did she steal?"

  "The what isn't as important as its retrieval. That is imperative. We have a means of tracking her through her Maker."

  "So…" I narrowed my eyes. "Her Maker can pinpoint her exact location. Why drag me here or even require my services?"

  He turned and walked to the closed door. Then he turned and smiled at me. "Because her Maker is here."

  Here.

  It didn't take a second for the implication to settle in. Mia's Maker was in the basement. "But…if her Maker has a Childer, shouldn't she have been passed down to the Childer?"

  "Mia is a very smart Ghoul and has evaded that fate since her Maker's death. Unfortunately, once she's caught and our artifact returned, Mia's fate no longer rests in the hands of her Maker's Childer."

  I held up my hands. "Jedediah please…don't make me do this again."

  "I believe the words are, man up, Ren?" He smiled at me and I didn't like it. "Follow me."

  Wow. The Prince of the Talmadge Family used modern-day slang. Well…a few years past its prime but he was learning. I did follow him. There was no other choice. Prince, you know. And I wanted to keep a good standing with Jed. After all, he held the power in Atlanta.

  We returned to his study, a place of books and a fireplace and comfy chairs. He poured himself a Scotch as Aubrey and his minion, Oberon I think it was, came in and shut the door. Aubrey smirked and I shot him a bird. Yes I know childish but I really, really didn't like that vamp.