The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles- Year One

by Ken Lange

  Andrew was easy to read. He wasn’t happy with the arrangements, and that was putting it mildly. “Alexander and his people will be here within the hour.”

  With more than a little effort, I turned to Isidore. “You know this guy?”

  Isidore nodded. “Very well.”

  “He can be trusted?”

  Isidore scoffed. “Absolutely.”

  Keeping my eyes fixed on his, I said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Isidore chuckled. “I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Good…” Grunting, I turned back to Andrew. “Considering my best two leads have either died or burned to the ground, I need to work on finding new ones.” Putting a hand on the arm of the chair, I started to push myself up. “Let Alexander know I’ll be back before sundown.”

  Andrew held up a hand for me to stay put. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Giving him a you-have-to-be-kidding look, I got to my feet. “I’ve still got work to do.”

  Andrew let out a breath. “I think you should stay put until things calm down.”

  Leaning over, I stared at Andrew. “And just how’s that going to happen? It isn’t like someone else is going to handle it.” Shaking my head, I sighed. “You’ve got our roles mixed up, Governor. You’re the one who needs to stay put, and I need to go out there and find the bad guys.” Softening my features, I blew out a long breath. “Please let me do my job.” Before he could mount a suitable offense, I waved and headed for the door. “Have a good afternoon.”

  After plugging Walter’s address into the phone’s navigator, I pulled out onto 4th Street. Twenty minutes later, I was on Lake Avenue, enjoying the cool breeze coming off the lake. Massive houses of every conceivable shape and size littered the street, with no rhyme or reason to their designs. Everything was mismatched as each owner tried to be more outlandish than the next. My destination was no different.

  The expansive white cement stucco building was mostly a single floor, not to mention gaudy as hell. I say mostly because the main entrance, such as it was, appeared to have a second story that ran the length of the monstrosity. Because the structure took up most of the yard, the U-shaped drive was squished, making it look like an afterthought. White marble statues dotted what was left of the tiny lawn near the street, while their massive counterparts stood like Atlas against the walls of the home, holding up the flat roof.

  The intent was obviously to impress, intimidate, and belittle visitors. Personally, I thought it was pathetic that someone needed to spend so much cash to compensate for what I had to assume were their own shortcomings. Walter shouldn’t have bothered. Much like his frail and twisted body, this eyesore would be reclaimed by the power of Mother Nature sooner rather than later.

  I brought the Tucker to a stop at the apex of the drive, about thirty feet from the double oak doors that led into the home proper. Leaning over the seat, I grabbed the duffle bag and dropped it next to me then secured the gladius and wakizashi at my waist.

  The front door was slightly ajar, and with a gentle push, it silently swung open. Cautiously, I stuck my head through only to find the foyer empty, and I mean four walls and a floor kind of empty. Taking a deep breath, I focused, dialing up my senses and preparing for any unseen danger before stepping inside. The following three rooms were equally barren. The next room held the first and only piece of furniture: a small, round dinner table. Beyond it was a cavernous room meant to be a den that should’ve contained sofas, chairs, and people. The massive double French doors framed a picturesque lawn and a view of the lake.

  In the middle of the table was an old flip phone that rang as I approached. Looking up, I spotted a camera at the far end of the room. With a smile and wave, I picked up the phone. After flipping it open, I placed the receiver to my ear, strolling toward the electronic eye.

  “Hello.”

  I recognized Walter’s voice instantly. It was raspy, winded, and genuinely intrigued. “Good afternoon.” He paused to take in a long, ragged breath. “Gavin, isn’t it?”

  Stopping a few feet from the wall, I looked up at the camera as I nodded. “Good job, Walter.”

  He tittered, which caused him to wheeze and cough. “You’re smarter than I’ve been told.”

  Raising an eyebrow at the lens, I smirked. “That’s normally the case.”

  There was shifting in the background, and I imagined him leaning closer to the monitor. “I’m curious…do you mind if I ask you a few questions while I have your undivided attention?”

  Wagging my finger at the camera, I shook my head. “Not unless you want to answer a few of mine. A tit for tat type of thing.”

  The whir of oxygen pumping into a tube followed by a chunky, chest-rattling cough filled the line. “I’ll go first.”

  Of course he would. Asshole. I raised an impatient hand at the camera. “All right, shoot.”

  His ragged voice grated through the receiver. “I’ve got to know—are you a disgusting human or one of those filthy weres?”

  Cocking my head to the side, I snorted. “That’s just rude.”

  His voice became hard and angry. “That wasn’t an answer.”

  With my free hand, I pulled the wakizashi, swinging it high and cutting the camera in two, causing it to spark as the lens crashed to the floor. “I don’t think it’s worthy of an answer.”

  He croaked and groaned, and something slammed against the floor in the background. “You’re one to talk about rudeness after invading my home then destroying my equipment.”

  “I don’t like being watched. Especially by an old man doing the heavy breathing thing in my ear.”

  He coughed and wheezed again. “Too bad we can’t continue our conversation, but you’ve been a very bad man.” He paused for just a moment and snorted. “I’m surprised Andrew would employ someone of your nature.”

  I jerked the phone away from my head, and glared down at the thing before putting it back to my ear. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  His laughter was dry and rattled around in his chest like it was going to break something. “I hope you’ve made peace with God, son. You’re going to meet him very soon.”

  The line went dead, and an unnatural darkness filled the room. A tingling sensation started at my feet and worked its way up to the top of my head. When I looked at my hands, the cuts and bruises were gone. The power coursed through my veins, and an odd sensation crept over me.

  My left hand glowed as it elongated and turned into living blue flames. My right morphed into the same armored onyx glove as before. The light of my left hand highlighted the long black robe that enveloped my body.

  There in the darkness stood a dozen souls, all of whom had died at my hand in the last month. All things considered, I was surprised there weren’t more of them. Amongst them, Chan and Timothy stood out, glowing orange in their sea of blue and gray.

  The little girl at the front of the spectral horde was no more than ten years old. She had a small hole in her left temple, and another about the size of a grapefruit in the back of her head where the bullet had torn through. She’d been the first to die, twenty-one days ago.

  While I’d been the one to pull the trigger, her handlers had already marked her for death. If she’d been older, they would’ve sent her to blow up some crowded section of town in the hopes of killing as many people as possible. As it was, the IED she was wearing triggered when the dead man’s switch activated. The explosion leveled the block, effectively achieving my objective. Now, she and the others were here for their pound of flesh.

  Unfortunately for them, they weren’t going to get it. This information didn’t come from Kur, but from the darker part of my nature that had saved me twenty years ago.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked at them and shook my head. “Please don’t.”

  The little girl’s specter wailed, shattering windows, and her fingers extended into talons as she charged me with vengeance in her eyes. Waiting until she was within arm
’s length, I snatched her up with my left hand. She yowled in pain as the flames charred her spectral flesh. Her claws tore at me, passing through the enchanted cloth and digging into my flesh. Blood trickled down my body, and the blue flames along my arm intensified. Her neck glowed purple then white, before fire engulfed her. She screeched, twitching in agony. Instinct kicked in, and I thrust the wakizashi up through her gut and out her skull, and, with little more than a puff of smoke, she ceased to exist.

  Tendrils from the billowing black robe wrapped around the remnants of her soul and absorbed it. Her power added to my own, and the others howled their displeasure. Several darted out of the crowd and slashed at my midsection. I brought the wakizashi down again and again, the blade cleaving the spirits in two, and each time, their remains were pulled into the death shroud I wore. My blood ran freely to the floor, but I wasn’t about to leave this world without a fight.

  Chan ducked into a footballer’s stance as he ran toward me, lodging a shoulder in my gut and driving me back several feet. Grunting, I brought my hand down, slamming it between his shoulder blades, knocking him to the floor hard enough to shatter the marble.

  Charging ahead, I sliced through several of them at once with the wakizashi, allowing their essences to heal my wounds and embolden my attacks. I grasped him around the neck with my flaming left hand, and slammed him into the nearest wall. Hefting the wakizashi, I forced it through him.

  When the cloak pulled his essence in, a jolt of energy passed through me, and the world turned to shades of crimson. Red lightning poured out of me in every direction like power from a Tesla coil, enveloping the nearest souls still standing and extinguishing them. The charged plasma wrapped around Timothy, pulling him closer. It turned him around to face me before tearing him apart. He shrieked for a split second before erupting into an orange mist.

  Power continued to course through my veins, but there was no one left to kill. Focusing my will, I stretched out my senses in search of any other dangers that may’ve been lurking. My power pressed against the house, causing it to rumble, and the walls around me shattered. I made a mad dash for the double French doors leading out into the backyard and crashed through the glass at top speed. As I rolled to my feet, the center of the house caved in on itself.

  Apparently, I didn’t need to wait for nature to run its course after all.

  Chapter 19

  The late evening sun hung low in the purpling sky, keeping the air thick and steamy. As I turned into the drive, a mountain of a man barred my way. It took a moment to place him—he’d been standing next to Isidore at the funeral.

  After throwing the car into park, I stepped out of the Tucker for a proper introduction.

  Even though he only had an inch or two on me in height, the massive barrel chest and body to match made me feel puny standing this close to him. The additional fifty pounds of muscle rippled through the loose-fitting jeans and flannel shirt with every movement he made. His long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his beard stretched midway down his chest.

  Sticking one of his massive hands out in my direction, he gave me the slightest of smiles. His voice was a deep, rumbling thing. “You must be Gavin.”

  I shook his hand. “I am.”

  He gestured at the gate, and two men appeared to pull it open. “I’m Alexander.” Lowering his voice, he said, “When you get settled into the job, I’d like to have a word.”

  Instantly concerned, I locked my gaze onto his. “Is there a problem?”

  Alexander’s chest heaved as a big belly laugh came rolling out of him. “Not at all.” He clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to knock me a few steps to the side. “It can wait till this is handled.” His amusement faded. “If you need assistance with anything, anything at all, you let me know.” He pulled out a card and stuffed it into my hand. “I’ve got plenty of people, all of whom want to help should it be needed.”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it wasn’t an offer he made lightly or often. “I’ll keep that in mind if things get hairy.”

  His face went blank, and the big man stood up straight. “Did you just make a wereperson joke?”

  I blinked and was suddenly at a loss for words. “Ahh…”

  The edges of his mouth twitched then he laughed as he smacked me on the shoulder again. “Relax…I’m joking.” He waved me back to the car. “Go on and get upstairs. Andrew’s been looking for you.”

  I moved the car into the garage, pulled the door closed, and turned to thank Alexander. But he and the men were gone. Scanning the yard, I expected to see them walking around the side of the house, but there was no trace of them. Heading through the back door, I thought I saw someone, but on closer inspection, no one was there.

  Andrew was at his desk talking to Isidore. He gave Isidore a knowing glance, and Isidore turned and chuckled.

  Andrew let out a long breath. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece.”

  His reaction puzzled me. “Me too.”

  Isidore pointed at the chair next to his. “Do you typically wreck people’s homes, or has this last week been an exception?”

  “Huh?” Realization hit me, and I rubbed my forehead. “Let me guess…someone called you about Walter’s house.”

  Andrew shrugged. “Yeah, it would appear that my…your car was spotted leaving the area a few minutes after it collapsed.”

  Taking a seat, I threw my hands up in disgust. “Before you get upset, the place was empty when I walked in.” My frustration with the visit got the better of me. “It didn’t stay that way, though. Shit got weird fast.”

  Andrew leaned his elbows against the desk. “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is Walter’s a goddamn necromancer.”

  Andrew’s face tightened, and his back went rigid. “Are you sure?”

  Isidore shuddered. “A necromancer?”

  Sitting upright, I glared at them. “Unless there’s some other creature out there that can summon the souls of the dead to do their bidding, then yes, I’m sure.”

  Andrew’s voice was grave. “I’ve heard rumors, but no one’s ever been able to prove it.”

  Kur and the Grim’s anger pulsated through me. “Neither can I, but I’m guessing this is just one more crime in a long list for the freaky bastard.”

  Andrew’s expression hardened. “How did you survive the encounter, let alone escape?”

  Kur urged me to answer with caution.

  “I used the wakizashi. Something about the weapon allowed me to destroy them.”

  Isidore stammered. “How…how’s that even possible?”

  Kur whispered in my mind, “Do not tell them the truth. We are not ready to reveal ourselves yet.”

  Andrew shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know…but Gavin’s very fortunate to have found such a weapon.”

  Isidore sat there, dumbfounded. “Specters are tough to kill and nearly impossible to escape… Necromancers are bad business.”

  Andrew nodded. “That’s an understatement if there ever was one.”

  Kur was alert, whispering facts and figures into my mind. Necromancers summoned souls from whatever lay beyond and forced them to serve their new master. Under normal circumstances, these specters couldn’t be dispatched or dispersed without powerful counter spells or the death of the person who’d summoned them.

  It was clear to everyone in the room that I didn’t know the first thing about counter spells. And with Walter still amongst the living, option two obviously hadn’t occurred. Since I’d given the wakizashi full credit for handling the situation, I didn’t have to tell anyone about the Grim…yet. Even Kur was at a loss when it came to the darker part of my personality. That both intrigued and frightened him.

  I shrugged. “It’s like you said, I got lucky.”

  A nervous laugh escaped Andrew. “Indeed… I’m going to assume you read the law concerning necromancy.”

  “I’m familiar with it.”

  In short, this school of
magic was strictly forbidden, and anyone caught practicing it was subject to summary execution.

  According to Kur, necromancy was an affront to nature itself. Lazarus was a perfect example. He’d died long ago, and a powerful necromancer and a dozen of his followers had performed a perverse ceremony over the course of three days that pulled his soul through the veil and forced it back into his body. He came back with the powers of the Stone Born, vampire, sorcerer, and others, corresponding to the men who’d resurrected him. That horrendous ritual had turned him into something that never should’ve been.

  Though it had magnified his power several hundredfold, Lazarus was heartbroken and wished for nothing more than to return from whence he’d been ripped away. It was then that he’d created the Archive to regulate our kind.

  Part of me wanted to know how Kur knew all this since I was certain no living creature, save Lazarus himself, had ever heard this story, but Andrew cleared his throat to get my attention.

  Tearing myself away from the…memory, I turned to my uncle. “Yes?”

  Andrew gave me a curious expression. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I was lost in thought.”

  Isidore frowned. “Having to fight off one of those things would be enough to distract anyone.”

  Before I could stop myself, I corrected him. “There were a dozen of them.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  Andrew scoffed. “That’s impossible…you’d be dead.”

  I gestured at myself. “Clearly, I’m not.”

  Andrew stammered, “Well…goddamn. That sword of yours is truly impressive.”

  Isidore chuckled. “You’ve got to be the luckiest man on the planet.”

  I forced a grin. “Couldn’t agree more.”

  Andrew chewed on his lip. “Do you have a plan?”

  Taking a deep breath, I shrugged. “To be exceptionally cautious, find Walter, and discover who he’s working with.” I got to my feet. “Right now, though, I need a shower before heading back out… Oh, and I met Alexander. I can see why you trust him. He seems like a really great guy.”