Accession of the Stone Born: The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles (10 page)

Andrew held his hands up in a show of confusion as he shook his head. “The UCD is more of an after the fact type of unit. As for the
vigiles
, Martha.... Well, either she couldn’t prove it or she was held back for one reason or another.” He grumbled as anger rolled over his features. “I can’t say why for sure, but perhaps Ms. Dodd and her next
vigiles
will be able to tend to that ‘situation’.”

“Perhaps,” I intoned.

Andrew stood, waving for me to follow him. “Let’s take a proper tour.”

We headed back to the room that held hundreds of gemstones. “Where did you get all of these? Who did they belong to?”

Andrew’s features swelled with pride as he straightened his shoulders. “They belonged to our family through the generations. When one of us dies the nearest family member holds onto their ‘essence.’”

“Why?” I asked.

“As you saw last night, a shadow of their former selves is accessible for consultation. In today’s terms they would be artificial intelligence. Kind of a crude term, but it works.”

“So it doesn’t involve their souls?”

Andrew stiffened. “Not exactly, no. Once a person has passed, nothing short of a really disgusting ritual of pure evil can be performed to trap the soul before it travels to whatever is next. Necromancers are a pretty bad bunch.”

Looking around the room, I felt awestruck. “So my father’s stone is here.”

Andrew pointed near the center of the room. “Right next to yours.”

“And your father?”

Andrew shook his head. “When he left he took his stone with him. He left the others in your father’s care, but those fell to me after he passed away.”

He turned and left the room with me in tow, and we visited several other rooms. One was filled with parchments, deeds, and an old family crest. Another contained rows of bottles, tubes, and other containers filled with potions. At the back of the house was a large ornate room with a long table and maybe a dozen chairs around it. They were all equally fascinating in their own right.

Seeing how the tour was done, I clapped him on the back, guiding him back to the living room. “What are we going to do today?”

“Heather should be by later with the groceries and other essentials. If there is anything you want, you’ll need to add it to next week’s list.”

“You don’t get out much then?”

Andrew’s cheeks flushed red.  “I can’t...not really.”

It dawned on me after he said it. “I’m sorry.”

He pointed at one of the wing chairs and grabbed a bottle of scotch. “Care for a drink?”

Looking at the bottle, I looked at my watch and said, “It’s not even eight in the morning.”

He didn’t reply before pouring us a drink. “Welcome to New Orleans.” He sat back in his seat and relaxed. “It’s been nice having you here. I didn’t realize how much it weighed on me to have all those noises in my head until they weren’t there.”

Picking up my glass, I toasted him and took a sip. “Again, glad I could help.” With another drink I couldn’t help but feel optimistic about the future. “So, I guess I’m some sort of wet blanket to your abilities...that’s my superpower!”

The comment almost made him spit out his drink. “I doubt that seriously. It’s more likely a side effect of something else. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Sitting there staring at my glass, I watched as the scotch stuck to the sides, pulling itself down the glass and creating the most beautiful lines as I slowly swirled it around. I had to wonder what was in store for a man like me. Walter looked like hell, but I didn’t see any twisted, melted skin on his body. It wasn’t as if I’d taken pleasure in my job, but I never shied away from it either. Only time would tell.

Chapter 6

Andrew was on his fourth round of scotch while I was nursing a second at 10:00 when Ms. Heather Broussard arrived, arms full of groceries. It took the three of us twenty minutes to unload the car and carry everything upstairs. It wasn’t a bad job, as I got to watch Heather glide up and down the stairs.

Heather was a tall—about six foot one—classic kind of pretty that would’ve given Audrey Hepburn a run for her money. Her blue green eyes sparkled behind her tortoise shell horn rimmed glasses. Her refined features stood out against the black long sleeved Under Armour workout shirt that fit tight across her ample chest and hugged her taut stomach. The medium length pink running shorts hugged her hips, accentuating her rock hard bottom and showing off her long, shapely, yet muscular legs. Her auburn hair was cut in what I was once told was a shag cut, and parted to one side. I’d always assumed it was called that because the women who wore it looked as if they’d just been well shagged.

She moved with old world grace and elegance, making her appear strong, sensual, and sexy. The most wonderful thing about her was the fact she didn’t seem to either know or care that she was stunning. She was such a genuinely pleasant woman, and I couldn’t help but be happy in her presence. A part of me was surprised that she hadn’t taken up modeling, and another part of me was grateful that she hadn’t. I wasn’t sure how my uncle had ever convinced such a woman to clean his house and work part time in his bookstore, but I had to give the old man considerable credit for doing so.

After we dropped everything in the kitchen and living room she shooed us away, insisting that we let her get to work. Andrew and I returned to our scotch, allowing Heather to disappear into the kitchen and guest quarters.

About a half hour later Heather appeared behind Andrew with a wry grin, wagging a finger in my direction. “You obviously didn’t notice the perfectly good hamper in the bath. It’s just under the tall cabinet next to the sink.”

Blushing, I hadn’t actually given it any real thought that the guest quarters was actually my room. “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I’d planned on doing the wash this afternoon.”

A brilliant smile spread across her face as the sunlight danced across her eyes. Her voice was a rich alto that lilted with only the slightest of southern accents. “It’s already in the wash.” Her laughter danced across my insides, making me both excited and nervous. “Is that everything you own? I looked around but didn’t find anything else.”

Blood continued to rush to my cheeks as I turned an even deeper crimson. “Yeah, that’s everything.” Gaining a little bit of dignity, I cleared my throat and nodded. “I’ll need to go shopping soon and pick up some new stuff.”

Heather let out a chuckle as she ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “I don’t think you’ll be able to find stuff in your size off the shelf.”

Andrew perked up as a thought popped into his mind. “She’s right.”

He appraised me as if for the first time, taking full stock of my size. While it was true he had a couple of inches of height on me, I was thicker. My dense broad shoulders led off to beefy arms. My chest swelled out from the heavy muscle mass before creating a deep v towards my trim muscular waist. My legs were akin to tree trunks, ensuring that everything I wore needed to be custom tailored to my unique form.

He groaned, half in appreciation and half in shock. “Damn boy! What did they feed you?” He chuckled as he waved off my attempt to answer. “Never mind. I’ll give George Nguyen a call and he’ll take care of you.”

Tearing my eyes off Heather, I turned my attention to Andrew. “Who’s George Nguyen?”

Heather pivoted in her white tennis shoes with pink laces that squeaked against the floor, heading for the kitchen, calling out over her shoulder. “He’s the best tailor in town. He’s made a lot of my clothes.”

I couldn’t—well, wouldn’t—stop watching her sashay out of sight. Once she was gone I turned my attention to Andrew, who was watching my expression with great amusement. “What?” I asked.

Andrew tried to remove the knowing look off his face but failed. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He reached for the phone and held out a hand for me to hold that thought. Dialing a number, he waited for someone to pick up. “George...? This is Andrew.... Good morning to you as well. I hate to ask this of you on such short notice, but I have someone who is in need of your services.... Today would be best, if you can fit him in.... I’d consider it a personal favor.... Really? Outstanding, see you at three.”

Andrew hung up the phone and looked over at me, raising his glass. “George will be happy to stop by at three to get your measurements. After that he can retire to his shop and have a full set of clothes for you sometime next week.”

A lot of questions went along with my feeling of imposition I’d just placed upon my uncle. First, I was curious as to how the maid/ part time employee afforded tailor made clothing. Hell, I was curious about how I was going to afford it. The other was, other than the obvious, why did my uncle have a tailor on speed dial? And how was he able to convince the man to drop everything on such short notice to come see me this afternoon? I was sure the man had a business to run, not to mention other customers’ orders to attend to, before making such an exception for me.

“I’m not sure I can afford a full line of custom made clothing.” After the briefest of thoughts, I paused. “Maybe a couple of pieces, but I need to find a job before spending all my cash on clothes.”

Andrew’s bemused look told me I wasn’t getting out of this so easily. “Don’t worry, you’ll receive a steep family discount.”

That made me laugh. “Last I checked, neither of us were a Nguyen.”

Andrew rolled his eyes at me. “Not his family. Our family discount.” He could see that I clearly didn’t understand. “I do a lot of work for Mr. Nguyen, and in return he tailors my clothing, and now yours, at no cost.”

I snorted in disbelief. “That must be a hell of a job that you do for him.”

Andrew’s face was quite serious now. “It is.” He held up his scotch and took a drink. “Now don’t worry about anything. Besides, from what I’ve seen of your clothing, you definitely need a more refined set. The suit was nice, but hardly befitting a man of your station.”

“And what station is that?”

He cut his eyes towards the kitchen with a devilish glint in his eye. “Besides being struck dumb by a beautiful young woman? You’re my nephew! And you’ll need to dress appropriately when you register at the Archive next week.”

That gave me pause. What made me being his nephew so special? “Are you sure I’ll need to register so soon?”

Andrew sat his glass on the table as he hardly considered the answer. “Absolutely. You can’t go traipsing around in someone’s territory and not register with the local Archive. It’s just rude, not to mention it could be considered a crime after thirty days. Not that we currently have a
vigiles
, but the next one might take offense, just to be an asshole.”

Holding up my hands in defeat, I understood the point. “All right, I’ll register as soon as possible.”

Heather finished her duties and joined us in the living room at around noon. She took the seat nearest to mine before leaning forward and stretching out her delicate hand in my direction. “I know we exchanged names when I first arrived, but that’s hardly a proper introduction.” She locked those sensual blue green eyes on mine. “I’m Heather Broussard; and you are?”

Trying to keep my reactions under control, I kept the blushing to a minimum as I took her soft, strong hand in mine. “I’m Gavin Randall.”

She held my hand for a moment longer as she gave me a wink, glancing back at Andrew. “Any relation?”

Andrew didn’t appear to be bothered as he casually replied. “He’s my nephew.”

Still holding her hand, I grinned stupidly and repeated. “Nephew.”

Great, now I’m repeating my uncle. Way to keep cool!

Heather released me and sat back in her chair, turning her full attention to my uncle. “You never said anything about a nephew.” Swiveling back to me, she eyed me with great curiosity. “If he’d mentioned you were coming to visit I would’ve picked up a few things.”

Dropping my head slightly, I blushed. “Don’t be upset with Andrew, he didn’t know.” Looking up at her sheepishly, I felt the blood rush into my cheeks again. “This visit sort of just happened.”

Her eyes flitted to my left hand for the third or fourth time since she’d arrived. “And where were you that kept you away for so long?”

The back of my mind started to itch, the amusement left me. “Naples, Italy.”

Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breathing became labored, and her eyes bulged. Groaning, she fell back in her chair, wrapping her long fingers around her face as she tried to rub away the unseen pain. “Goddamn it!” Lifting her eyes, she looked at Andrew. “What did I do wrong?”

Andrew suddenly looked like a man who’d forgotten to hide his porn. “Shit!” He shook his head as he tried to find the words. “I’m sorry, dear, I should’ve told you when you first arrived that Gavin is somewhat of a special case.”

Quickly putting away the love struck act, I found myself irritated at being the center of this conversation. “What seems to be the problem?”

Andrew waved a hand towards Heather as he regained his composure. “Heather is a very clever and powerful witch.” He blushed crimson as the slightest of smiles crossed his lips. “Her mother, Kim, is a very dear friend and asked me to tutor her.” Looking back at Heather sheepishly, he nodded. “He’s a blank to me as well.”

Heather forgot about the pain in her head as her mouth fell open, and she looked absolutely dumbstruck. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

Andrew wore a look of similar disbelief and took a drink of scotch. “Neither did I.”

What little buzz I had instantly faded during Heather’s attempt to pluck information out of my mind. Looking between the two I finally gave up, picked up what was left of my scotch, and downed it. “I’m going to assume that I’ve missed something important and move on.”

Heather turned her head in my direction and gave me an exasperated look as she took a deep breath. “Your uncle has been mentoring me in the art of telepathy.” She rubbed her forehead again as she leaned back in her chair, apparently with a raging headache. “It’s been a rough go of it so far, but this is ridiculous.”

Andrew piped in. “It’s not for everyone, dear.”

She frowned at him before turning her attention back to me. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I couldn’t read you I’d swear you were human.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and then looked at my uncle, perplexed. “It’s as if you’re not even in the room. I know you’re here because I can see you, but on an energetic level you’re non-existent. It’s just so odd!”

Leaning forward, I grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured another dram. Raising my glass in her direction with a wink, I took a healthy drink, letting the amber fluid cascade over my tongue with its wonderful flavors before sliding down my throat. “Furniture can’t drink and enjoy a good scotch.” She smiled and I returned it. “I’m sure my lack of presence is due to the fact I’ve only just discovered my heritage.”

She relaxed, but the look on her face betrayed her thoughts as I saw a desire just under the surface. “Perhaps.”

With that simple look, thoughts of her in stages of undress suddenly danced through my mind. “Perhaps, indeed.”

Heather winked at me before turning her attention back to Andrew. “I’ve got to pull the clothes out of the dryer, as well as a few other odds and ends to tend to before I leave. Is there anything else you’ll need?”

Andrew looked far too happy with himself for my comfort. “Thank you again for the assistance, but I think that’ll be all.”

Heather stood and held out her hand, which I took. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you.” She turned and put her hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Call me if anything comes up, and remember I’ll be busy Sunday night. I have that wedding to attend.”

Andrew patted her hand and nodded. “Have a great rest of your weekend.”

Heather sauntered out of the room, and even though the boyish crush I’d had was already gone I couldn’t help but watch. She was a spectacular looking woman, and had an equally fascinating and personable demeanor.

She wasn’t out of sight for more than a second before I turned to my uncle. “Should I concern myself with Isidore trying to read my mind as well?”

Andrew looked annoyed by the question but brushed it off. “I’m sorry about that. She is a wonderful girl, but eager to try and expand her horizons. As far as Isidore is concerned, he’s a ninety-year-old werewolf, and telepathy isn’t in their repertoire of skills.”

That bit of news came as a comfort and I instantly relaxed. I downed my scotch and poured another. “I suppose that’s good news.” A peculiar thought crossed my mind. “Why did she start to sweat and her breathing become labored? Is that normal?”

Andrew looked pensive. “I’m not sure. She’s always struggled with the ability, but I’ve never seen her react that way before. Perhaps it’s something specific to you, or perhaps she was just straining. Either is possible, I suppose.”

A really crappy thought occurred to me as I recalled the handwritten journal, and I paused. “Is Isidore a pet?”