Accession of the Stone Born: The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles (20 page)

Walking over, I plopped down in the seat next to Andrew. “I’ve got a stupid question.”

Andrew snickered, poured himself a scotch and took a hit. “All right, shoot.”

That’s just great, I’ve already got the boss drinking every time I ask a question. I’d never liked discussing money, but this was important. “The
vigiles
position…is it a paying job or will I need to find additional employment?”

Andrew and Isidore looked at one another with great amusement.

Andrew straightened his shirt and put on a professional demeanor. “As the
vigiles
for this area you’ll be given a base salary, and from what I understand it’s fairly substantial.” He grabbed a fairly modern looking handbook and tossed it to me. “You’ll be expected to travel to maintain control of the region, and as such that will be fully comped by the Archive.” He pointed at the book. “The specifics are in there.” He mumbled the last bit. “They also cover housing should you see fit to move out of here.”

Setting the book to the side, I ran my hand over my face and head. “I’m sure there will come a time that I’ll need to find my own place.” Grabbing Andrew’s scotch, I toasted him. “For now, however, I’m happy staying here until I can get my feet on the ground.”

Andrew relaxed, grabbed another glass, and topped off all three. “Here’s to you taking your time about that.” We all took a drink and he looked over at me. “The peace and quiet you bring to the house is a most welcome change.”

Isidore set his glass down and turned his curious attention to me. “Did you see Heather?”

Swallowing my scotch, I sucked in my cheeks, enjoying every last sensation of the amber fluid before answering. “She’s doing all right.” Remembering Brad, I felt irritation creep into my voice. “I also ran into her ‘friend’ Brad while I was there. Robert didn’t waste any time telling people I was a werewolf.”

Isidore snorted, and unconsciously his eyes flickered over my right hand. “They are going to be in for a rude awakening.”

Of that I was sure. Taking another drink, I savored the rich flavors before turning to Andrew. “Why aren’t the werebeasts allowed to be a
vigiles
?”

Andrew’s face darkened. Setting his glass on the table, he fumed. “For the same reason they can’t enter the Archive; people like Robert fight against progress. That being said, they can become a decanus.” Andrew must have seen the blank look on my face and quickly followed up. “Think of it like a deputy in service to a specific
vigiles
, but that’s about the extent of it.”

Well, that’s convenient. Turning my gaze to Isidore, I straightened up, trying to appear competent. “Want a job?”

With an uncomfortable look between him and Andrew, Isidore reluctantly answered. “Sorry, but I’ve already got a job taking care of your uncle.” The pride in his face was hard to miss. “I work for Amelia, your boss.”

It shouldn’t have surprised me to learn that I had a boss, but hearing it spoken out loud caught me off guard.  “Amelia?”

Andrew winced. Quickly leaning forward, he downed his scotch in one and poured another.  “Amelia is the
vigiles
for North America.”

“And who is her boss?” I asked.

Andrew and Isidore turned to one another, shrugging in unison. It was clear by their reaction they rarely gave the situation much thought. Andrew tilted his glass, slightly uncomfortable. “Lazarus hasn’t had a personal
vigiles
in nearly a thousand years. So to answer your question, technically Lazarus.”

What the hell? The local Archive was pushing for someone to replace Martha in less than two weeks. How could Lazarus wait a thousand years to find someone? “Why hasn’t he chosen a new
vigiles
by now?”

Andrew considered the words carefully. His face suddenly serious, I saw him searching for an explanation. “The higher the rank the more significant the power needed to fill the spot.” He waved a hand at the door as he spoke. “In Amelia’s case, she’s a 357-year-old sorcerer of immense power.” He stared off into space, lost in thought. “The
vigiles
serving the other governors are equally as powerful, and some even more so. After Naevius Sutorius Macro was killed, no one has been strong enough to take up the mantel and the position has remained open.”

At the mention of Naevius’ name, Isidore’s face darkened. “From everything I’ve heard about the man he was a complete asshole! It was at his urging that all the werebeasts were marked as slaves, pets, or in his words ‘to be put down.’” He slammed back his drink. “He used to like betting on the fights he set up.”

Anger flared up inside me as the thought of people being forced into cage matches due to their birth sickened me. “Sounds like the guy was a complete douche.”

Andrew shook off the anger, and turning the glass in his hand, he watched the amber fluid stick to the sides. It was clear he was still lost in thought when he spoke. “I’ll need to contact Amelia; she’ll want to meet with you soon.” Taking his eyes off the glass, he turned to me. “I’m sure there’s some sort of orientation for you to attend.”

That was somewhat comforting. I tossed back my scotch and stood, grabbing the book he’d given me. “I’m heading to my room. Is there anything else I need to read while I’m at it?”

Andrew swelled with excitement. “Tons! I took the liberty of putting many of them on the desk in your bedroom.”

I felt like I’d returned to school, so I shouldn’t be surprised that I had a massive reading list. Trying to keep a positive outlook, I eyed the bottle of scotch longingly. “Great. Got a set of cliff notes laying around?”

Andrew shot me a stern look. “Those are the cliff notes editions.”

My stomach fell and the nerves kicked in. “Fantastic.” Steadying myself, I tucked the small book under my arm before grabbing the journal and heading to my room. “If you two will excuse me, I’ve got some serious reading to do.”

Andrew raised a glass in salute. “When you get through all of those, I’ve got some others for you in the library.”

I loved to read, but somehow I doubted this would be enjoyable. Still, I forced a cheerful expression and waved.

Sitting at the desk in my room, I sifted through the books until I found one that made my right hand tingle. Pulling it out of the stack of books, I read the title—
Vigiles Urbani Guide to the Archive—
and of course it was in Latin. Fantastic! Andrew should’ve told me I’d need to order one of those learn a language kits.

Closing my eyes in frustration, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. When I opened my eyes again and looked at the text, it was in English. No, not English. It was still in Latin, but now I understood the words on the page. Well, hot damn! While I doubted this worked like
The Matrix
, something told me that I’d be able to read most languages.

The denarius was quickly adapting to my brain, creating a new interface that would allow me to access vast amounts of information. If a previous
vigiles
held the knowledge of werewolves or other creatures, I’d have access to it. The same went for deductive reasoning, cyphers, codes, and other similar things. Even if it was a new cypher, the knowledge of old ones could be used to break and read any new codes encountered. It was a sort of amplified intelligence.

Over the next several hours I discovered that the triumvirate and prefects were chosen in a similar fashion to a
vigiles
, but with ascending currency. Coins were used to carry necessary information from one generation to the next. This ensured that if a chosen officer died, or was otherwise deemed unworthy of continuing their work, vital knowledge and wisdom were not lost. Unlike the
vigiles
, none of the others were visibly marked, allowing them some anonymity.

The
vigiles urbani
were the first combination fire brigade and police force of the Roman Empire, and were known as the watchmen of the city. They were originally meant to guard Rome’s citizens from all sorts of dangers while they slept. The Archive adopted a lot of the ancient Roman culture and adapted them into what it used today.
Vigiles
were given equal weight with the prefects due to political backbiting and general assholery. It was the
vigiles’
job to ensure things ran smoothly and keep the Archive a secret from the general populace by any means necessary.

That I could do.

As the need arose new coins would manifest themselves, as in the case of the Americas. When one of the hosts passed away, their coin would manifest in the possession of the most powerful official in any given sector, which was why Andrew had Martha’s coin instead of Beth.

She would totally lose her shit when she found out that, not only was I NOT a dirty little monkey, but I was her
vigiles
. It wasn’t uncommon for a governor to live within a prefect’s base of operations. It was actually encouraged to cut down on travel and to ensure decisions were made quickly.

I spent the next several hours reading the different laws regarding the killing of our kind. Needless to say it was frowned upon and carried a death sentence. Killing someone in self-defense was reasonable, but murdering a fellow Archive member, or even conspiring to do so, normally demanded that the
vigiles
end the offending perpetrator. The denarius would assist the
vigiles
in acting as judge, jury, and executioner. The seriousness of the offense dictated other punishments, including stripping someone of their abilities for a period of time, to be imprisoned with the human population.

Chapter 13

Wednesday June 3rd

Pain shot through my neck and down my back, jolting me awake. The sudden movement only made things worse. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I raised my stiff and aching head off the desk. Quickly putting a hand on the page stuck to my cheek to keep from ripping it out, I slowly brought myself into a sitting position. Pins and needles erupted down the arm I’d had against the lip of the desk for God knew how long. Giving it a good shake, I forced myself up onto my feet and ambled to the shower.

While I dressed, a plan formed. During my breaks last night, I’d delved into one of the portable drives. Martha had created a hidden partition, effectively rendering two files invisible. There wasn’t a lot there, just an address for a warehouse out in Metairie and a couple of notes on Neil Nunez. She had obviously suspected someone, but never committed it to paper.

By the time I got myself together and meandered to the kitchen, it was 4:30 a.m. Pushing the door open, the smell of bacon wrapped itself around me, making me a very happy man. I found Isidore standing at the stove cooking breakfast for what looked to be a small army. Three long aluminum cookie sheets were on the counter, lined with bacon that he was pulling off with tongs to rest on crisping racks.

He glanced over long enough to acknowledge me before turning his attention back to the cookie sheets. “Eggs and toast will be up shortly.” With a slight tilt of his head at the meat, he said, “If you’re hungry grab a few strips of bacon…there’s plenty.”

The moment I’d smelled the smoky, salted meat my stomach twisted itself up in knots, letting me know the depth of my hunger. My mouth watered, so I snagged a couple of pieces and chomped down on them like a meaty candy bar. “Don’t mind if I do!” My stomach mollified, I took in a large bowl with a dozen eggs cracked, ready to be whipped into omelets or scrambled eggs. “We have guests, or are you just that hungry?”

Isidore’s eyes flashed and I thought I saw the beast just under the surface. “It’s that time of the month, so to speak.” He blushed, realizing what he’d said, and tried to backtrack. “The full moon...it’s time for the full moon.”

Barely able to keep my glee contained, I grabbed two more slices. “Anything I can help with?”

He eyed the bacon in my hand with envy. “You can save me some of that!”

Blowing him off, I mocked. “There’s got to be four pounds of the stuff, and you’re going to cry over four slices?” Swallowing, I waved at the counter. “Seriously, anything I can help with?”

He considered my offer for a few seconds before rolling his shoulders. “Nope. I’ve got it under control.” He gestured towards the table. “Sit back and enjoy the show.”

It was clear he didn’t want to part with any more bacon, so I obediently took a seat.

His head popped up, suddenly remembering something. He waved a spatula in my general direction. “George dropped off several packages for you last night.” He ladled some eggs into the pan with a low sizzle. “He kept apologizing about being late.”

With everything that was going on I’d completely forgotten about George. “The man worries too much.”

Isidore poured the remaining mixture into the pan. When he finished he piled three plates to overflowing with eggs, bacon, and several pieces of toast. He made several trips between the counter and the table to get everything before he sat down and started shoveling food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

The denarius whispered in my mind that during the full moon and other significant changes for a werebeast, their metabolisms accelerated. They needed the extra calories and food to sustain them before, during, and after a shift.

Finishing my breakfast, I cleaned my plate to leave before I actually lost a hand. Heading out of the kitchen, I stopped at the door and turned to Isidore. “I’ll collect my things before running errands. I’ll be back sometime later today, probably in the afternoon. If I’m going to be late, I’ll call.”

Isidore didn’t look up as he gave me the thumbs up. As I headed into the living room I could see that George wasn’t kidding about a full wardrobe. There were a half dozen garment bags filled to capacity, along with another seven boxes packed with clothes. In an effort to save time, I dumped one of the boxes onto the bed and found several pairs of jeans and some pull over polo shirts. The last box I’d brought in was heavier than the others, clunking loudly as I’d dropped it on the floor. Opening it, I was surprised to see an exact copy of my Wolverine Raiders at the top. Considering there were smaller boxes containing shoes for every occasion, I was betting this was what had taken the extra time George was so concerned about.

While George’s shirt hadn’t saved me from acquiring a new scar the other day, I figured it best not to tempt fate. Stripping down, I quickly redressed in the new attire, which was incredibly comfortable. Grabbing the car keys off the dresser, I headed downstairs and out the back just before 9:00.

The aged metal garage door slid up quietly, revealing the Tucker sitting there in all of its glory. Every time I looked at it I was in awe, but gawking at it wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Pushing on the gas, I turned the key and it purred to life, and I idled it out into the driveway before getting out and closing the door. Pulling out of the gate, I stopped long enough to lock up before heading for the suburbs.

I’d plugged the address into my Nexus before I left the house, and was on my way to 521 Elmwood Park Boulevard. It took about thirty minutes to cut through traffic, navigate road construction, and learn how to do what I’d dubbed the Louisiana left, which was a U turn.

Pulling into the parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse in Elmwood, I cut the engine and got out. From the faded and reversed sign, this was a hub for the now defunct DHL company. The building itself looked as if someone had kept up with it since DHL pulled out a few years back, but otherwise it looked abandoned. The long, narrow, gray cinderblock building was closed up tight. The wind had blown paper, plastic, and other trash that collected in all the corners, from the loading docks on up to the front door. What struck me most was the odd quiet that settled around the property. My flesh erupted in goose flesh from some unseen force of nature, one that I wasn’t entirely sure was peaceful. 

Coming around to the front of the building and the blacked out plate glass doors, I stood in front of a keypad. Looking down at my phone, I pulled up the notes I’d made from the files I’d found. There at the bottom was a series of numbers, which I punched in. A second later I heard the magnetic lock give way as the door popped slightly ajar.

When I stepped inside, the florescent bulbs came to life as motion sensors alerted them to my presence. I was at once thankful and concerned that the air conditioning was working. If the building was empty why would anyone bother with A/C? That’s when I heard the sound of someone very large running at top speed, their boots slapping against the hard tiled floor in rapid succession. I heard the screeching of rubber soles sliding across the slick surface, followed by the thud of someone slamming into a wall before the padding of feet hitting the ground a half second later.

For my part I remained very still, raised my hands, interlocking my fingers, and setting them atop my head. I didn’t have long to wait, maybe five seconds, before a gigantic man shoved open the two metal doors that led into the rear of the facility hard enough to shatter bricks from the impact.

I was 6’6”, and this guy towered over me, his massive frame packed with lean hard muscle. His skin was so dark that it made it difficult to make out details of his face. In stark contrast, his eyes were a brilliant green and were trained down the sight of a specially modified AR-15 semi-automatic service rifle to fit his enormous size. The light glinted off his bald head as he moved the rifle towards the wall, indicating for me to move. When he spoke it was in a low, rumbling baritone.

“Against the wall.”

He was calm, focused, and highly trained for such a young age. I turned and faced the wall.

“I’m here on business,” I said calmly, not wanting to provoke the man.

He came up behind me and with a foot kicked my legs apart. “Hands on the wall.”

I followed his instructions. “If you’d give me a chance to explain, I’d be happy to identify myself.”

There was silence behind me, and then he spoke again. “You can turn around, but do it slowly and keep your hands where I can see them.” I turned and he kept his eyes fixated on my right hand. “
Vigiles
?”

I nodded and stuck a hand in his direction. “I’m Gavin Randall.”

He sniffed, lowered his weapon, and took my hand. “Gabriel.” He looked back at the door and then down at me. “You alone?”

Again I nodded, trying to keep things peaceful. “Yeah.”

He suddenly looked heartbroken, keeping his eyes locked on the door. “Martha’s dead then?”

The tone of his voice made me hurt as I lowered my gaze from his. “She passed away late Thursday night.” Looking towards the now open metal doors, I quickly wondered just how alone we really were. “Anyone else with you?”

He pulled the magazine out of the rifle and ejected the live round out of the chamber. “I’m alone.”

“Sorry about Martha,” I said.

He shoved the magazine into a back pocket and waved for me to follow. “It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he rumbled, pulling the doors closed behind us. “That’s the lot of a
vigiles
, they always die. One way or another.”

“Where are we headed?” I asked, following in the big man’s wake.

He gestured to what had once been a conference room. “The armory.” Stopping outside the heavy metal security door, he punched in a code and the door popped open. He waved at the long conference table. “Take a seat and I’ll be with you shortly.”

Gabriel went to the nearest locker and pulled the clip out of his pocket, reinserting the round he’d ejected earlier before locking it up. Then he placed the rifle in the rack with a dozen other normal sized AR-15’s. He turned around and came to sit at the head of the table in an oversized chair to fit his form.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands together. “Related to Andrew Randall?”

“He’s my uncle,” I replied.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and when he spoke his voice cracked. “How did my mother die?”

I went numb. No one had ever said anything about her having a child, and it was obvious that no one had bothered to inform him. “No one knows for sure. I’m so sorry for your loss.” I stammered. “No one told you?”

Bitterness painted his features. “Mom didn’t exactly go around telling people in the Archive about me.” He gestured at himself. “My kind are not exactly welcomed with open arms.”

It struck me as the little voice inside my head spoke to me:
nephilim!
“I’m new to the Archive myself, so you’ll have to forgive my ignorance. Why not?”

Gabriel appeared to be shocked by the question. He sat there dumbfounded for several seconds. “You must be new. The law is clear that all nephilim are to be either pressed into service—a nice way to say enslaved—or killed.”

Then it dawned on me what he was doing here. “Martha slid around the rules by having you work for her.”

He grunted in assertion and spread his hands out. “That’s right.” Thinking about his situation, he frowned. “Now that she’s gone I don’t have many choices. I can run, be enslaved, or be killed.” He looked up at me and shook his head. “What would you do?”

My answer was instantaneous. “Or you could opt to make a similar deal with the new
vigiles
.” I pointed at my chest. “Me.”

Gabriel’s face broke into a big toothy smile as he eyed me carefully. “You don’t even know me. Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” And it was. Looking up at the big man, I nodded. “It may not be popular, but it’s the right thing to do.”

He laughed, a big, hearty, joyous thing. “You really are new.” He looked me over a bit more carefully as he waved a big beefy hand at me. “How can that be? No offense, but you look older.”

His joy was infectious; it lightened my heart and gave me a sense of contentment. “I’ve been away on business, and have only recently been introduced to the Archive.”

Gabriel relaxed. “It’s good to meet you.” He stuck a meaty paw out and I took it. “When did you become
vigiles
?”

Right to the point then. This made things simple, though I hung my head at the awkwardness. “Yesterday morning.”

He considered my words and glanced around the room. “You found me pretty quick.”

His tone changed suddenly from acceptance to one of suspicion. I held up my hands again as a sign of nonaggression. “She had the address for this place in a hidden file on one of her portable drives. I only showed up here out of curiosity.” He still wasn’t convinced. “She was working several cold cases before she died. I’m here to find more information, because I think it’s what got her killed.”

Suspicion danced through his eyes as he got to his feet. “Come with me.” He leaned over, grabbing a pistol on the way out. “If you’re lying to me I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”