by CJ Flynn
The Earthborn
by
C.J. Flynn
Mythos of Cimme
Book Three
© 2016 C. J. Flynn
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For
J
B & H
The Earthborn
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
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Mythos of Cimme
By CJ Flynn
“In the Days Before Time, when the gods and demons first wandered the Earth, the Cimme made their home on the edge of Hades. They did seek to create thirteen creatures, of earth, and of fire, of water and of air. Able to call forth the ancient magics of creation, these beings were released, free to roam the Earth for all time. On the dying lips of our great Mother, it was foretold that if any shall gain too much power, the balance of creation will forever be lost, and only upheaval of all that we have built would save us. And yet, among us still, are those who wish to be above our brothers and sisters, to hold power over the other creatures of the Cimme. A time may come when our Conseil will be thrown into chaos, when our balance will be lost. It is then that we shall understand the true power of the darkness within us.”
–The Founding of Le Conseil Cimme, from the writings of Queen Lilith of Galli. Translation by Sorrell of the Americas.
Book One: The Watcher’s Daughter
Book Two: Tracer
Book Three: The Earthborn
Chapter 1
I had never been in an official interrogation room before, but I suspected that the dark, bare room Sloane Warne had stuck me in would probably pass muster. Liam & Lydia Elridge, Ben's parents, had hired her in the aftermath of Ben's disappearance, and it was my turn for questioning.
Sloane Warne was a lanky woman with dark blonde hair and red eyeglasses. If I'd met her on the street, I would have pegged her as a librarian or teacher, definitely not a PI. She entered her interrogation room and slid a folder across the table towards me.
“This is what I have so far, Ms. Stuart. I don't intend to treat you like a suspect, unless something new comes to light. Your alibi checks out, and at this point, I think this will work better if we just play nice.”
I looked up at her and let my hold on my tracing ability slide. Indigo. It took me a minute to better understand her ability—she was a psychic. Either a perfect ability for a PI or a perfect ability for a reality TV show. I wasn't sure which. I had never met one before, but I'd heard of a few. I would have to figure out a way to put my hands on her to see what she was capable of, but it wasn't exactly an easy thing to do without causing a fuss.
I wiped my hands over my face, trying to get my thoughts back to the matter at hand. Lydia Elridge had been waiting on my porch when I returned from Florida at 4 in the morning. She had announced Benjamin’s disappearance with a grave tone, and had given me no space for argument. We’d left immediately for the Manhattan offices of Sloane Warne. I had no idea what time it was, but I was past the point of simple exhaustion. I needed to answer her questions and get some sleep.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
“Start at the beginning. Go back to when you last saw him.”
“It was Christmas Night. In Paris. I was getting ready for a…job.”
I wasn't sure how much this woman knew. I hadn't heard of her before, and though she obviously knew something about Peculiars, I didn't know her involvement in the world of Sorrell and the other vampires.
I continued on, trying to make sure I gave her as much information as I could without making assumptions of what she did or didn’t know. “He came to see me before I left, and we had a fight. He wasn't there when I returned, and I left several voicemails on his phone.
“I went by his place two days ago, on the third of January, to see if he would answer the door. His neighbor told me she hadn't seen him since Christmas.”
Sloane looked down at a typed page in front of her. She tapped a line of text about halfway down the page. “We have reason to believe Ben was home briefly, on the twenty-sixth. Do you think it's possible his neighbor didn't know he was there?”
I frowned. His neighbor, Mrs. Baker, was in her eighties. She saw a lot, but it was possible she'd missed something. I nodded. “Yes, I guess so.”
“I haven't had the chance to go to his apartment yet. The Elridges contacted me the day before yesterday, but I was out of town. Would you be willing to take me there? It'd save calling Lydia back down here.”
I hesitated. I had a key to his apartment, but I didn't have a nice, neat definition for my relationship with Ben at the moment. We'd left each other in Paris, after I'd said no to his sweet, but ill-timed marriage proposal. I'd chosen to go on a mission for Sorrell, and Ben had made it very clear I was choosing the vampires over him. I'd left him in that hotel room, and my whole world had turned upside down since. My best friend was dead, there was a new vampire Queen, and I had killed a man.
And that was before I found my stepmother and learned I had two half-sisters.
The cheerful hotel breakfast of croissants and cafe au lait in Paris was a lifetime ago.
I turned my head away from her for a moment, before catching her gaze. The most important thing I could do was to help find him. Ben and I could hash out details later. “If the Elridges agree, I don't mind taking you there.”
“It's standard protocol. They've signed off on everything.” She took the investigation folder back and stood up. “You can grab your things while I call a cab.”
“My car's downstairs,” I said. “I'll drive.”
Ben's studio was only fifteen minutes up town. We made it to his building just as the sun began to rise over the East River.
I punched the button for the fifth floor as Sloane held the door open for a young man still dressed for a night out. We all stood in silence until he got off at the third floor and Sloane let out a sigh.
“The jacket is pretty sad,” she said. “He bought it used at a thrift store, and it's got a solid six or seven years of bar grit and tequila-driven love affairs on it. Nothing happy ever happened to anyone
who wore it.”
I stared at her as the bell chimed and the door slid open. “Do you do that sort of thing for birthday parties?”
* * *
Ben's door was unlocked when we got there. I started to open the door, but thought better of it. I didn't know who was in there, but I was pretty sure it wasn't Ben. I looked back at Sloane, waiting for the next set of instructions. I had no interest in being the ringleader.
She frowned and reached around me to grasp the doorknob. Her eyes flickered with a deep bolt of indigo and she let go.
“Tall man, very tan, with blond hair. He's been here about fifteen minutes.”
My heart skipped a beat. I only knew one person who matched that description and had access to Ben's apartment.
I knocked at the door. The last year had been consumed by learning to face my fears. The person behind that door was no exception.
After a moment, the door opened and Colin Tate stared down at me.
“Allie?”
“What are you doing here, Colin?” I asked. I waited for the fear or the anger to wash over me. The last time I had seen Colin he had practically attacked me in my own home.
It was the same night I'd first learned of Harding's ability.
So much had changed since then, so many routes had been redrawn, that looking at Colin brought on...nothing. I felt nothing. He was Colin Tate, my long-ago ex-boyfriend and Ben's business partner. There was a lot of history there, to be certain, but it seemed so much less important than it once had.
He opened his mouth to reply, but Sloane held up her hand and frowned at him. “Colin Tate, I presume?”
He nodded. “You must be Sloane Warne. I spoke with Liam about two hours ago. He told me about Ben, and he told me to expect a call from you.”
She tilted her chin up and considered him for a long beat of silence. “I'm surprised he agreed to let you come in here. He knows I had planned to meet with you this afternoon.”
Colin moved out of the doorway and motioned us into the silent studio. The place was immaculate, as it usually was. Ben was tidy, and his place made up for its lack of square footage with lots of air and light. That morning was no different. The crisp, blue light of the morning sun fell across the oak floors in wide columns. Colin strode over to the low couch and took a seat.
He motioned to two armchairs and Sloane and I both took seats, waiting for him to continue.
“I told him the same thing I'll tell you. I heard from Ben just before Christmas. We always shut down from Christmas Eve until after the New Year. We had a huge meeting this afternoon, and he was supposed to prepare some of the materials for my presentation. I came back from the Caribbean to an empty mailbox and a business partner with a full voicemail.”
“So you didn't hear from him at all after Christmas Eve?” Sloane asked, flipping open a small spiral notebook and jotting something down.
Colin shook his head. “Nothing. Check my phone logs, email, I don't care. I don't know anything about what happened to Ben.”
Sloane looked back up from her notepad, but I held my hand up.
“You never answered my question. Why are you here now?” I asked. Colin and Ben had maintained a business relationship out of necessity, but their friendship had ended. Seeing Colin in this apartment, the very place that he'd first found out about Ben and me, was rubbing me the wrong way.
He jerked his head towards Ben's desk and the computer there. “I needed to see if he had anything for today, but I'm going to have to cancel the meeting after all. The computer's been wiped.”
I watched as Sloane pushed past Colin and crossed over to the desktop. She rested her hands on the keyboard and closed her eyes.
“What is she doing?” Colin asked, after several moments of silence.
I opened my mouth to explain and had to stop myself. Colin wasn't “in the know.” Everything about the past year and a half of my life would be totally foreign to him.
“I have no idea,” I finally replied, hoping it would suffice. It wasn't exactly a lie.
“I'm just trying to tie up loose ends,” Sloane said. “You're fine to leave, Mr. Tate. You're right. The computer is clean.”
He sighed. “Right. Well, if there's anything else I can do...”
Sloane shook her head. “I'll be in touch, Mr. Tate.”
And with those words, Colin put on his wool overcoat and turned to leave. He turned back again, his eyes on Sloane. She had gone back to the desktop.
He crossed over to me. “Allie? Can we talk for a minute?”
I stared at him before giving him a single nod. “Sure.”
He stepped closer to me. “I know it's been a long time, and I should have said this a long time ago, but I really am sorry for what happened that night. I was completely fucked. I know that's not an excuse, there is no excuse for what I did. I'm different now, and I wanted you to know that. I stopped drinking, stopped fucking around so much.”
“I'm glad to hear that.” I didn't know what else to say to him. My mind was so far removed from that night in my kitchen that I couldn't find anything else to offer him. “Take care of yourself, Colin. I'll make sure Liam and Lydia keep you updated.”
He hesitated before nodding. “Thank you. Take care, Allie. Whatever's happened with Ben, I hope you don't get caught up in it.”
He turned away again and left without another word.
I stared at the closed door, waiting again for feelings that just weren't coming. Ben and Colin had come to a professional-only business relationship long ago. I couldn't understand at the time how Ben was even capable of it, but now, I could see how little it all actually mattered in the grand scheme of things.
Colin was history. And Ben, whatever was going on with him, was very much the present. I crossed over to lock the door and the sound of the sliding dead bolt was oddly satisfying.
I turned towards Sloane and nodded at the workstation. “What did you see?”
“Colin Tate checking for the work files, just as he said. He was the last person to touch the computer. Prior to that, there was a woman here, young and sparkling and naively human. She's probably the reason the box is clean. Benjamin was present before her, and he used the computer to make an airline reservation the day after Christmas. That's as much as I can see.”
“An airline reservation?” I asked. “Didn't you check to see if he'd traveled anywhere?”
“I don't have access to every bit of information on the internet without having to do some creative legwork. I'm trying to get the information, but it isn't exactly a snap of my fingers.”
“Can we figure out where he went?”
Sloane shook her head. “Not easily. I still need to go through his credit card transactions, see if I can find a match for something. At least we know he likely boarded a flight. Narrows it down more than you realize.”
* * *
Sloane called for a cab, and left me alone in Ben's apartment. The floors still glowed in the morning sun and the air felt cool and dry. It had been empty for days. I looked at the clock on the microwave.
Nine a.m.
I was dead on my feet. It would take me almost two hours to drive back to Park Falls and going back to my cottage at Sorrell's was even further. I bolted the door, pulled the blinds, and crawled into the cold bed. Ben's smell surrounded me—clean soap, paper, and something that was undeniably him. I buried my face is his pillow and curled my body to his side of the bed. I hadn't slept there in months—we usually just stayed in the cottage—but his bed felt just as familiar as it always had.
A trickle of fear worked its way through my mind. Where had he gone? Was he missing, or just incommunicado? I thought of our last words, the fight, and the cold look in his eyes as I left that amazing hotel suite in Paris.
His pillow smelled the same, but was it possible Ben was a different person than when I'd last seen him?
I knew I was.
Chapter 2
My phone vibrated so hard it fell off the nightstand. I dr
opped my arm over the edge, seeking it out as the muffled ring and vibrations continued against the large area rug. My fingers grazed a corner of the phone and I swept it closer.
An unfamiliar 212 number flashed across my screen before it flipped over to voicemail. I stared at the screen, waiting for another alert.
It took two replays of Sloane's eventual voicemail before it made sense.
Ben had gone to Panama City on the twenty-sixth.
I scrolled to my missed calls and called Sloane back.
“Did you get some sleep?” she asked, by way of hello.
“Some.”
“I was able to access his credit card account. Nothing newer than a fourteen-dollar charge at a bar in Panama City on the twenty-eighth.”