Deamhan (19 page)

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Authors: Isaiyan Morrison

Tags: #Metusba, #Lugat, #Lamia, #paranormal, #vampire, #psychic vampires, #Deamhan, #Ramanga, #urban fantasy

BOOK: Deamhan
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“And I haven’t.” Sean felt a lump in his throat. He knew eventually they’d find out about the documents he’d taken before he left for Minneapolis, but he didn’t think it’d be so fast.

“Are you sure about that, Sean?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sean replied. “Look, from what I’m experiencing here in Minneapolis, I don’t see a need to restart the Chapter. Yes, The Deamhan are somewhat out of control, but bringing The Brotherhood back into this mess may do more harm than good.”

“If Mr. Austin wanted your opinion, he would’ve asked for it,” Kenneth interrupted him. “You are not there to access nor are you there to help her. Mr. Austin made that clear as crystal.”

Sean nodded. “I understand.”

“Good, because Mr. Austin isn’t sympathetic to failure and he doesn’t take second chances.”

“I understand.” Sean heard Kenneth sigh on the other end of the line.

“You were sent with a simple task, Sean and you failed by stealing more classified documents from the Library and the Archives. You’ve given Mr. Austin no other choice.”

Sean remained silent, waiting for the phrase “you’re fired.” Instead Kenneth’s reply turned into the last thing Sean wanted to hear.

“You are to immediately cease communications and all activities in regards to Miss Austin. You are ordered to check in at the Gathewait Hotel on Hennepin Avenue, Room 301, and stay there until I and several researchers arrive tomorrow evening.”

“What?”

“You’ve been pulled from the assignment, Sean,” Kenneth continued. “And do yourself a favor this time. Don’t disobey Mr. Austin’s orders again. I’ll be in touch.” Kenneth hung up the phone.

Sean stuffed his phone back in his pocket and he turned to Veronica. She had to know. No more secrets.

“Who was it?”

“We have to go now.”  He took Veronica by her hand and began to lead her down the street.

“Sean, what is it?” She struggled to keep up with his hurried pace.

“I’ll tell you when we get back to your apartment. I promise.” He increased his speed to a hasty walk.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Was that your contact on the phone?”

“No,” he blurted. “It’s not that. It’s—I’ll tell you when we get back to your apartment.” They reached the corner, and he cautiously looked down the street before proceeding.

“Who was it?” she asked him again.

He didn’t answer.  

She yanked her hand, breaking free from his grasp. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“Trust me, we need to get off the streets.” He held out his hand.

Veronica heard the panic in his voice, and she saw his agitation. “Why?”

“I’ll tell you when we get to your apartment.” His breathing became erratic.

“Sean.”

“Veronica, trust me. Please,” he appealed.

She stepped away from him. “I trust you, Sean, but I’m not moving until you tell me what the hell is going on.” Her comment blinded him.  She never doubted him. This was a first.

She tilted her head to the side and crossed her arms in front of her chest. He released a tired sigh and deeply regretted coming back to Minneapolis. He wanted to relive the day when Mr. Austin gave him the stupid task. Saying “no” and refusing to spy on Veronica seemed easy enough. She had the right to know what was going on and he had no right to lie to her, as her best friend.  

 “Fuck it.” He took a deep breath. “Veronica I—” He scratched his head, taking another deep breath. He looked over her shoulder in frenzy then he turned around, staring down the street. Again he looked over her shoulder before looking into her eyes.

“What, Sean?”

“Okay, fine.” He conceded.  “There’s so much I need to tell you about why I came here but I can’t tell you now, right here. I’m telling you, Veronica, it’s not safe on the streets. I don’t know if they’re already here or not.”

“Who? Who’s already here?”

“The Brotherhood,” he answered.

Her eyes widened. “Since when?”

“Since I arrived.” He grabbed her hand, and they resumed their fast pace. “Kenneth might already be here, I don’t know.”

“Kenneth? Do you mean Kenneth Dearhorn?”

“He’s the new Midwest Region Leader.” He didn’t look at her as she stared off into the distance, still taking in the information.  

“Since when did he become the Midwest Region Leader?”

His shoulders drew back and his eyebrows arched higher on his face. “Before I left.” They stepped off the curb and Sean waved his hands to signal a taxi. Veronica folded her arms, watching his frantic behavior. Cars drove past, including one taxi that totally ignored them. He looked down the street at a woman standing alone, underneath an orange street light, eyeing their every movement.

Were they already here?

Sean looked back at the woman again and Veronica followed his gaze.

“Sean, I’ve seen her before. At the other fire. Is she from The Brotherhood?”

“I don’t think so.” Sean looked at Veronica.

“Maybe a minion?” Veronica’s eyes bulged from her sockets. “Lambert did tell me I was protected. Maybe this is what he meant?”

 “We have to get out of here.” Sean’s panicked movements increased. He frantically waved his hands again at a taxi. Finally a white cab stopped.

Sean opened the door and hopped in the front seat. “Veronica, get in.” He closed the door. She slowly opened the rear door and climbed into the vehicle.

“Where to?” The taxi driver pressed his foot on the gas pedal.

“Palm Oaks,” Sean answered. Veronica leaned over to the other window. She watched the woman until the taxi turned the corner.

 

* * * *

 

Sean remained silent on the way to Palm Oaks. His eyes fixated on the scenery from the car windows while the taxi sped down the highway. Several times Veronica tried to make conversation but he didn’t reply. Instead he nervously tapped his fingers on his knees.

His behavior was noticeable, and the taxi driver asked him if he was alright. Sean nodded, mumbled and continued with his erratic behavior.

It was only when they were inside Veronica’s apartment that Sean began to release his frustration. He paced back and forth in her living room, undecided on how he could tell Veronica the truth without sacrificing their friendship.

Sean let out a weak laugh and ran his fingers through his hair.

Veronica took off her jacket.  “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little spooked.”

 He stopped pacing and looked at her. “They’re coming, Veronica. Do you know what that means?”

 “Sean, sit,” she said as she pointed to the couch. “You’re making me nervous.”

He stared back at her and finally succumbed and sat on the couch.

“I don’t care if The Brotherhood is coming back to Minneapolis.” She sat next to him. “This isn’t going to stop my search.”

He tapped his feet rapidly on the floor. “That’s not it.” He leaned back and sighed.

“What is it?”

He didn’t know where to start; The Brotherhood, her father, the real reason he came to Minneapolis . . .  He couldn’t bring himself to tell her everything just yet.

Before agreeing to his plan, Sean pieced the tiny remnants of what he could find together. He never told Veronica, but he’d always thought her mother had died. Killed, not by the hands of a Deamhan, but by the hands of her own father. Everyone who ever worked in The Brotherhood during and after that time speculated the very same dark scenario, but no one suspected and no one really knew. When Sean tried to find out, his own parents warned him about digging into The Brotherhood’s dark history.

During his long work nights in his office at the San Diego headquarters, he searched around, listening to the rumors being said about her father. He sifted through old boxes filled with documents that smelled of old water in the building’s dank basement. He hacked into The Brotherhood files, only to find that the information he wanted was blacked out. He searched secret information before it was moved in the highly secured and guarded library. His own parents told him stories of their youth as researchers, unaware that their son was piecing together clues. It was only a hypothesis, but he felt it was damn near close to the truth. When Veronica mentioned the name Lucius to him, his brain lit up like a light bulb.

“There’s something that we’re missing.” His voice drifted as he thought.

“What?” The tension drove Veronica mad.

He lifted his head and turned slightly toward her. “Veronica, I’m sorry to tell you this but, your father sent me here to spy on you.”

Veronica gently placed her hand under her chin and she turned her head toward him. “What?”

“Your father sent me here to spy on you.”

She raised her hand and he immediately quieted. “My father sent you here?” Veronica didn’t understand his comment.

“Believe me, Veronica; I couldn’t say no.” He hesitated.

She glared into his eyes, and he looked to the floor.

“You could’ve said no, Sean.”

“You of all people know what happens when a researcher says ‘no’, Veronica,” he replied. “I can’t refuse your father. He’s one of the three Presidents of The Brotherhood. What would you expect me to do?” He expected her to push away from him and to lash out like she used to when she became upset. Instead her eyes began to fill with tears while she continued to glare at him. He felt her body shiver in his embrace.

“I wish I could’ve told you sooner, Veronica.” Sean continued. “I just couldn’t. I wasn’t sure how to break it to you.”

“You could have just told me, Sean,” she whispered.

“I’m telling you now.”

She cleared her throat and regained her posture. “What did my father want you to do?”

He knew he had to tell her but still he held back and without thinking clearly, he replied, “Just to make sure that you stayed away from Dark Sepulcher and if you found anything significant, to let them know about your progress.”

“Are you lying to me now, Sean?” She pounced on his arm. The pain traveled to his shoulder blade like sharp pinpoint needles.

“No, I’m not,” he exclaimed. “A part of me didn’t want to say no too, Veronica. I mean, I want to be here to make sure nothing happens to you. I didn’t want what happened to Rick to happen to you.”

“I know the risks. I’m not a little girl anymore.” She rested her head in her hands. “I know what I was getting myself into when I came back to Minneapolis.” She stood up. “You of all people know that.”

He nodded and startled by his lack of honesty, he quickly rose to his feet. So far, she absorbed his information better than he thought she would. He expected Veronica to throw him out of her apartment and to never talk to him again. But here he was, still in her presence. He waited for her response while his mind ran with wild thoughts. Finally, she pushed him away and stormed into the kitchen. He quickly followed her to the kitchen counter. She leaned back, glaring at the ceiling.

He tried again.

“Veronica, I know there’s nothing I can say to make you feel better. But Kenneth is coming to Minneapolis with a few researchers. They’re going to restart the Minnesota Chapter. You can’t stop them.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t care if they’re coming, Sean. Let them come.” She swiped back the brown strands of hair from her face, revealing a trail of tears running down her cheek. “What I care about is that you lied to me. You came here to spy on me.”

He reached out to her and touched her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” She didn’t respond. “If you want, I can leave now. I can walk out of that door and when they get here—”

“No,” she interrupted and then placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to come with me to Blind Bluff Manor.”

“Excuse me?” He didn’t expect that reply from her. “The sanctuary?”

“Yes. I’m going.” She clasped her hands together. “I want you to come with me.”

Surprised, he stepped back and watched her gather herself. She wiped her tears and for a moment, he saw a look of disillusion of himself in her eyes.

“Are you sure, Veronica?”

She nodded. “Positive.” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “My father doesn’t want me to go there, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, if my father doesn’t want me to go there then it has to be important.”     

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

Winter arrived in Minnesota late that night. Veronica and Sean awoke to six inches of fresh snow on the ground with the air carrying thick and sticky snowflakes. The temperature dropped to below freezing with the wind burning any exposed areas of Veronica’s face as they left her apartment and climbed into the backseat of a taxi. The taxi’s tires spun over the black ice on the pavement, making the car move uncontrollably from left to right before it sped down the street.

The drive, an hour long, for the most part remained quiet. The Somalian driver tried to start a conversation with Sean about the weather, but Sean’s bitty, apathetic replies killed it.

Veronica lost herself in her thoughts. A few times she looked at Sean from the corner of her eye, still wondering if he told her everything about why he came to Minneapolis. For the first time in her life, she didn’t trust him and the Sean she knew before she left California was now lost to her. Part of her understood why he couldn’t say no, but another side of her didn’t understand why he agreed either.

She shuffled through the backpack sitting on her lap, pulling out her notes and some of The Brotherhood paperwork on Blind Bluff Manor (she also started to question the information Sean brought her as well.) The sanctuary, reportedly owned by a human and nestled far from the city, still didn’t seem real to her. Images of what the place looked like flooded her mind. She expected it to be large, dark, overfilled with passageways and secret compartments for the Deamhan to rest during the day.

What she knew about sanctuaries she learned from her father and The Brotherhood. Deamhan sanctuaries were necessities in the time when the Deamhan were almost driven to extinction. Each sanctuary had an older Deamhan who acted as its leader with several Deamhan under him or her. They weren’t mixed and each Deamhan type preferred to stay with their own. Some sanctuaries could be cramped, others not so much, but each sanctuary had its distinctive traits, depending on what type of Deamhan settled there. They preferred their locations to be further away from humans, usually in abandoned homes, farms, and even cemeteries, but that was not always true.

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