The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  “Odd that you are named after a sun god of Egypt,” Terry said.

  Amun smiled too large, it wasn’t a comforting thing to see. “Isn’t it just that?”

  I couldn’t tell what he was getting at. “Why does Michael hate the Council so much?”

  “Not my story to tell. It is one of great sadness, and someday, if you earn it, you may hear it from him.” That would be something I’d like to earn. “You are all welcome in my home anytime. For now though, farewell.” And before we could say anything more, in a blur of movement he was gone.

  “He still gives me the creeps,” Terry finally spoke. I understood what he meant.

  “Not as much as Michael’s wolf-man form. You looked like you nearly pissed yourself.” It just would not be proper for me not to give him hell.

  “Did not!” Oh, I hit a cord. Give up? Fuck no.

  “Did too.”

  “No I di… I hate you.”

  “No you don’t.” We had a good laugh on the way back to the car. And you know I didn’t stop there.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Werewolves, vampires, holy shit my life was nuts. I went to bed alone that morning. It would have been nice to hold Carmen again. We were all just too damn tired to do anything but go to sleep when we returned to the mansion. I didn’t know what to make of anything anymore. We were siding with wolves and vampires. Carmen and Terry both worked for The Guild. They hunted those that were becoming our allies. I had been tossed into this upside down world with no hint of what it would do to me. Suddenly, people knew more about me before meeting me than I even knew. My life was always so hidden, so when did I become more than just a hit man? When and why did the vampires start to look at me with such respect, intrigue, and surprisingly fear? Whatever it was about me, they feared it, and so did I.

  I didn’t sleep well that night, always too many thoughts running around in my head. Thoughts and questions that had no answers burned at me. I lay there for a long time drifting in and out of consciousness. I was getting absolutely no rest. Sometime around noon I drug myself out of bed giving up the fight for sleep. After dressing I went to the kitchen to eat.

  Sitting there munching on a bowl of cereal, I ached. Everything just hurt. I hadn’t done anything to cause the pain, but it was there all the same. My head pounded and my stomach felt sour. Worse than feeling the effects of little sleep was the tension that pulsed through my body. I hated feeling weak. I was sitting there deep in my mind, alone, when Carmen and Terry found me. At any other point, their company would have been nice. I liked them both, but, just then at that moment, I wanted to be alone.

  They were laughing about something I hadn’t heard when they entered the room. When they saw me hunched over my food, their laughter abruptly stopped. “Hey.” Terry was the first to speak. I just nodded. Carmen stepped behind me and rubbed my shoulders. It felt nice but distracting, distracting from what? I hadn’t a clue. Neither one of them pressed me about what was wrong. They knew there was something off, but still they didn’t press it. I appreciated that. I knew they’d listen if I wanted to talk. If I had any idea what was bothering me, I would tell them, but I didn’t even know what was bothering me so much. For some reason that thought bothered me. I was not used to people being there for me. Kindness wasn’t often shown to me, not true kindness anyway. Carmen kissed the top of my head and went to dig through the cabinets with Terry. I tried to manage a smile when she turned around to wink at me. It didn’t work out as well as I’d hoped. Damn that pissed me off, at that moment it took too much energy to even smile at a friend. That made my bad mood so much worse. They were, in their own way, trying to take care of me. And I was treating them so rudely.

  I had to say something. “I’m sorry y’all, I’m just out of it.” Point for me! I could manage a hint of social skills.

  “Don’t worry, Vinny,” I think that was the first time Terry ever called me by my first name, “everyone has their good and bad days,” he said, as he sat opposite me. The bruise on his face was looking better. It still stood out dark against his complexion.

  Carmen sat next to me. She was smiling so sweetly at me. She looked worried. If the concern was over me, I wished it wasn’t. She had too many other things to think about. I didn’t want to be an added burden to her already burdened mind. She began running her fingers though my loose hair. Her smile was gone and the only thing that remained was a look of concern. “Not sleeping again?” I shook my head. I still couldn’t trust my voice. Her touch was so calming. Just having her hand playing with my hair was helping to cool whatever rage had been building inside of me. After a moment her hand dropped away.

  The meal continued in near silence. I didn’t say much at all. I only responded to direct questions. Before they were finished, I had long been done and rose to clean my mess. When I walked past the table to leave, I ran my hand across Carmen’s shoulders. Trying to let her know everything would be alright. Just as I made it to the door, Terry called to me, “Have you seen the garage?”

  “Na.”

  “If you’re looking to get lost for a while,” He knew I wanted some me time, “you should check it out. I think you’d find it interesting, being the gear head that you are.”

  “Thanks.” And I was gone.

  Outside, the day was warm with the sun bright in the sky. The light hurt my already aching head ‘til I placed my sunglasses on. I paused there on the front stairs for a few moments, lighting a cigarette. Considering how cold it had been the night before, it was a beautiful day. I sat on the entry stairs enjoying the feel of the air. I watched as the guards walked their rounds. Goddamn, what a boring gig that must be. There was hardly any noise. That, alone, was wonderful. The relaxed moment didn’t last. Before I was done with my cigarette, my mind pulled back to the troubles I was faced with. I half-heartedly began walking toward the garage, hopeful that Terry was right. I wanted something to distract me. Aw, Hell, I needed it.

  I’d seen where the garage was during my exploration of the compound. I hadn’t expected anything other than the cars and trucks I’d already seen. None of them really tripped my trigger. I’d seen and driven enough Mercedes and such in my life that they didn’t impress me much. Don’t get me wrong, they are nice vehicles, my passions; however, were older cars and of course motorcycles. Inside the garage, which was closer to being a small warehouse, looked more like a museum. There were cars from every era, both European and American. I stood in amazement at the collection. Each and every one was perfectly kept, from the newest Lamborghinis to the oldest of classics. I walked the lines of cars, touching some the way one caresses a lover. I missed my cars. As I took in all of them, I lost myself. Terry was right. These cars were to me what books were to Carmen, they would never betray you or grow angry with you. Take care of them and they’ll always be there. When one car drew my attention away from the others, I had to get a closer look. In a mix of classic American muscle sat a nineteen sixty-nine Dodge Charger. Cherry red, she was in pristine original condition. A sister to my favorite car, the car I’d been driving the night this whole adventure started. I missed her the most. I began to think of her as I looked over the aggressive but somehow gentle lines of the red beauty in front of me. While I was alone with only the thoughts of cars in my mind, someone had entered the garage. I spun toward the door, two of my pistols in hand. I’d kill someone on principal alone if they put a bullet hole in any of these pieces of art. I’d met the man that slowly walked toward me. His right hand was in the air, his left arm was in a sling but his hand was open showing me it was empty. I felt that he had no harmful intentions and dropped the guns, though his hand stayed above his head. I was stumped on where or when we’d met, but I knew him. “Mr. Black, would you like to be alone.” The driver! He was our driver the night of the ambush.

  “Carl, right?”

  “Yes, sir.” When did I become sir? This guy was at least twenty years older than me.

  “You can put your arm down, Carl.” He listened and sli
d his hands into his pockets. “How are you?”

  “Still a bit on the shaky side, but alive. The bastard tore my shoulder up.” He offered as an explanation for the sling. His accent was very proper. It had the same upper class feel to it as Edward’s and William’s had but it didn’t have the same feeling of asshole. “I’d hoped you’d stop by here at some point.” He had trouble looking at me. His eyes continually fell to his feet. He was being very timid. “I’ve wanted to deeply thank you for what you did for me. I’d have died otherwise.”

  “It was nothing.” I wonder if he’d be so grateful if he knew I’d killed more men than I’d ever save. “You needed help, there was no way I couldn’t do what I did.”

  “But, Mr. Black, I—”

  “Vincent or Black.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” He looked perplexed.

  “Can the sirs and the misters. Call me Vincent or Black.”

  His eyes grew with more confusion. I really didn’t see what the big deal was. “Alright, as you wish si… Vincent.” As I wish… fuck… at least it was a start. “I just wanted to thank you.” He leaned genteelly against the rag top continental behind him. He was staring at his feet again. “Can I ask you something?”

  Here we go. “Yeah, what’s up?” I had wanted to be alone, but could I really turn him away? I hated being a nice guy at times.

  “If I hadn’t frozen, would you have been able to save Sir Piper?”

  I figured it was something like that. I slipped my guns back into their holsters and let out a slow sigh, not out of frustration with him but with myself. I wasn’t sure how to answer the question. I leaned next to him. “I don’t know, Carl, I’m sorry but I don’t know what would have happened.”

  “I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t do anything. I knew I had to move but couldn’t. I was frozen.”

  “Did you look into his eyes?”

  His whole head lulled forward eyes closed. He mouthed the word ‘no’. He stood there dripping with self-loathing disgust. With a deep breath he composed himself. “No.” Words no longer failed him. “No, it was utter fear, Vincent. I was told you walked right up to that fiend and shot him. The guards said you were fearless. How is that?”

  I rested one hand on his good shoulder. “Most people would do just what you did. There is no shame in fearing for your life. It was a natural reaction, stupid as it may have been. It was a natural thing to do. You don’t want to know the things I’ve faced to become the way that I am.” He looked somewhat better. “And let’s get one thing straight right now. I wasn’t fearless.”

  We sat in an understanding silence. I’d been an abused child, a cold-heartless killer, a vampire slayer, a witch or something like that, jury’s still out on that one, and now I’d become a counselor. You should see me walk on water. “A beautiful piece of machinery isn’t it?” he said, nodding his head toward the Charger. “I saw you admiring it as I walked in.”

  “Oh yes. I have a black one, same year, at home.” My eyes returned to the car in front of me, but my mind returned to my car. I wonder if she missed me.

  “Original?”

  “Na, I love to customize them. You know, take one and make it a little piece of my personality.” We began a long conversation about different cars, motorcycles, projects we’d worked on. We were just two gear-heads with nothing else to do with our time but shoot the shit. That’s a lie, I had a lot I needed to do with my time, but just then, at that moment, I didn’t care. It turned out that Carl was the garage caretaker. He was the one that brought or kept all these beauties in their amazing condition. The man knew more about classic cars than anyone I’d ever talked to. He didn’t just know the mechanics of each one of them, he knew the history behind them, their designers, and every other detail each car had, he knew.

  “I’d let you take her for a spin but the gearbox,” British for transmission, “needs some work. You can take any car that you’d like, whenever you’d like. The keys are over there.” He pointed toward a cabinet on the back wall. “And being a rider, I thought you’d like to know about the motorcycles in the next room. Those are also at your disposal.” His pointing finger turned to a set of double doors next to the key cabinet. He began to walk away. “Thank you again, Vincent, for everything.” A few steps later he turned around. “If you ever feel like turning some spinners,” wrenches, “come find me. The company would be nice.”

  “Thank you.” He was already walking for the door again. I thought the access to the cars was a compliment. These were his life’s work. Not only did he trust me to drive them, he wanted my help working on them. I’d love the chance, if I survived long enough. For now I was breathing, so I could drive. I hadn’t driven in weeks. I relished the chance. The fact that I didn’t have a European license didn’t really make a difference to me. As long as I stayed on the left side of the road I’d be fine. Oh yeah, speed limits, those too, but aren’t they just suggestions? Well, here’s to hoping.

  I again began to walk the lines of cars, this time trying to pick one to drive. So many to choose from, what was I to do? I felt like a kid in a toy store. Oh! Oh! I want that one! No, that one! No, that one! Ah! I was feeling very indecisive. Then my eye caught her, a sliver Porsche Carrera GT. There is only one word to describe that perfect example of motor vehicle glory, sexy. I’d always wanted the chance to drive one and now I had it. I found the keys right where Carl said they’d be. When I climbed in, the leather bucket seat wrapped around me as if made just for my body. Then the engine roared to life, and I do mean roared. There was nothing subtle about her. With every rev she demanded power, speed, and sex. It was hard to gently ease her from her spot in line. She didn’t know the meaning of gentle. The door to the garage opened on sensors. She and I saw the sunlight blast into the room. GO! GO! GO! She was crying to me through every throaty growl of the engine. Oh, and I went. Together we leaped out of the garage that held her like a cage, only to find the outer gates closed. She didn’t want that nor did I, but there was little to nothing that could be done about it.

  It didn’t take much for her to creep forward to meet the approaching guard. “Headed out for a spin, Mr. Black?” No I’m just thinking about driving around the parking lot for a minute, fuckin’ idiot.

  “Yeah, Carl said it wouldn’t be a problem.” He was just doing his job and actually being polite about it, I guess I could return the favor.

  He nodded then walked to his guard shack. After a few minutes of frustrated waiting, he returned with a small laminated card. “Here you are.” Handing me the card. “This isn’t quite a free and clear card, but it should stop any unwanted police attention.” He chuckled. “You’ll need it with this one.”

  Gently he patted the car then opened the gate. He was coming dangerously close to eating a bullet, patting her on the head like she was a little schoolgirl in pigtails, fucking tosser. The card read Vincent Craven, one of my aliases, Guild. That was all. Plain white laminated. I guess the cops were owned. I waved to the nice guard as she and I flew out of the gates. I saw him shaking his head and laughing at me in the rearview as the large iron gates slowly shut behind us. Ah, let him laugh, I thought to myself. I didn’t care. I was free and at peace with my mind. My silver lady and I hadn’t a care in the world.

  I sped down those country roads, hugging each twisted corner just on the edge of control. This was how she was meant to be driven and she loved it. I scared the living hell out of a few country folk as we rushed past them. With the top off, the wind pulled at my hair and blew in my face, but I didn’t let up. Relishing the moment of it was just the distraction I was in need of. With every shift, her horses begged to be released. So I let them go. Hours later, I found myself back at the compound, night was upon us and it was time to work. I tucked her in for the night. That wouldn’t be the last time I took that lady out. I hoped Carmen wasn’t the jealous type. I tossed the keys to Carl who was smiling ear to ear at me, leaning against the overhead door frame. He said nothing, just smiled.

  A
small part of me wondered what Carmen and Terry had done all day long, but most of me was just too relieved to care. I hoped they’d had a good day, but I knew it would hardly have a chance of topping mine.

  I found them in the library. Sitting opposite each other, noses stuck in books. Terry’s hand jumped for his gun as I approached. “Fuckin’ hell, Black!” He spilled back into the armchair. “I’m going tie a damn bell around your neck.”

  I could do nothing but smile at him. It was easy for them to see I was feeling much better than I had been that morning. I sat on the arm of Carmen’s chair. Wide eyed, she looked relieved to see me smiling again. “So what’s the plan?”

  She rested a hand on my knee. “Research. We haven’t heard from our friends tonight. So research.” She turned back to her book, but her hand remained on my leg. They both sounded so dead, frustration filled the room like noxious fumes. Their discontent was choking me.

  “I don’t like that plan.”

  “What?” Terry’s head lifted toward me.

  “I said, I don’t like that plan.”

  “And you have a better one?” Carmen asked, removing her reading glasses. Her large doe eyes questioning what I had in mind.

  “As a matter-a-fact I do. First off,” I said, “mark your page.” I pointed at the book lying open on her lap, which she did. “Wonderful.” I took the book and set it on the table. “Fuck the studying; we’ve been studying in circles. So fuck the studying for one damn night, let’s get drunk, play some cards, and watch those old cheesy horror movies.”

  I saw arguments in both of their expressions, but neither of them could find any holes in my points. I realized how much good a few hours of relaxing had done me, and I wanted them to step back for a while to take that strain out of their voices. “On one condition, I’ll join you.” Carmen said.