Dead of Night: The Nephalem Files (Book 3)

by Douglas Wayne

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Free Story

  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

  Free Story

  Review

  Read More

  Help Me Out

  Author's Note

  About the Author

  My Other Books

  Dead of Night

  The Nephalem Files

  Book 3

  Douglas Wayne

  DEAD OF NIGHT

  THE NEPHALEM FILES

  BOOK 3

  Douglas Wayne

  Copyright © 2015 by Douglas Wayne. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental. Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

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  douglaswayne.com

  This book is dedicated to my wife and kids. Without your sacrifice these books would have never been possible.

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  - 1 -

  "That's another one to take to the bank," I said, handing Stacy the check. It had been nearly nine months since the events in Cincinnati and business had finally started to pick up. I had a long way to go to catch up with all my debt, but my newfound ability to pay my bills on time had the creditors just enough at ease that the no longer felt the need to harass me on a nightly basis.

  Like the council had demanded in my trial, I've caught up payments on the Edge and had it placed, rightfully, in my name. I've also had to cancel all the credit cards not in my name and had all the balances from the others transferred over to ones that were. The debt was crushing at times, but as long as business continued at the clip it was at, I would be out from under it within a few years at best. It would've been sooner, but I had to step into another car payment since the last trip. Thankfully Stacy is more practical and thrifty than she is vindictive and settled with a Dodge Dart. She could have asked for something much better, and expensive, and I would've felt obliged to get it for her, just out of principal.

  Stacy looked up from her computer long enough to smile. "I'll make sure I get it down to the bank this afternoon." She reached into the top drawer of her desk and handed me another stack of envelopes. This week's bills, no doubt. I took the pile in one hand and reached to turn her phone log to look at it with the other.

  "Nothing new today?"

  "Just the usual. People asking if you were the Ghost Hunter guy or something." With the extra business and publicity my recent string of cases has brought me, came an increasing rate of prank or otherwise B.S. calls. We've always dealt with a certain amount of this at the office, but never at this level. To be fair, I'd take double the prank calls if it meant getting double the cases. Especially if they kept me closer to the office like I had been the last few months.

  I thanked Stacy and left her to her work, which would probably be solitaire or some other game she is playing on Facebook.

  As I suspected, the stack of papers were primarily bills. One for each of the cars and the electric bill. A light week, thankfully. The last letter was a letter from the council, addressed to one Wz. Raymond Gilmore. Letters from the council are usually rare, though I was expecting it in this case. I opened it up and saw what I was expecting, a letter commending me on my service a month ago and a check for my time. The amount of money was negligible, amounting to less than a fast food worker would take home after a week's pay, but it wasn't so bad considering they cover all your expenses while you work for them. In my case, the money amounted to about two hundred bucks. Not even enough to pay the power bill also in my hand.

  In the past few months I haven't heard much about the vampires or the war that looked eminent at one point. Eli, Corbin, and Silas have all kept in touch as much as possible, though we have had to play phone tag more times than not thanks to a rash of cases I could handle during the daylight hours.

  I was about to head out to the car to take a trip to the grocery store when the phone rang. It took every ounce of willpower in my body to keep me from picking up the phone on the first ring. Call it a bad habit, but after spending months with little to no work coming in, it makes you want to stay on top of everything coming in. Having Stacy in the other room helped my urge, knowing she would get hot if I were to cut her out of her job.

  About thirty seconds later the phone on my desk rang as Stacy routed the call back to me. The familiar sense of dread washed over me as it always does when I receive a call. To be fair, a big part of that is knowing it could be another bill collector wanting me to give my payment information over the phone. Even knowing my creditors were all content for the time being wasn't enough to keep the fear from surfacing.

  I let the phone ring twice before picking it up. "Raymond Gilmore, paranormal investigator. How may I help you?"

  "Mr. Gilmore, my name is Nicholas Bates. I own a cemetery outside of New Orleans. A few nights ago, someone came onto the grounds overnight and..."

  "Probably kids, Mr. Bates. I'd put good money on either troublemakers or perhaps someone with a death complex." I wasn't trying to shake off the call, but as you can imagine, I get dozens of these a month. Usually the kids don't do anything that does any long term damage though it's not uncommon for the kids to dig into the ground trying to look at a corpse. Few have the patience, or stamina, to dig that far, thankfully.

  "I'm afraid it's a lot more serious than kids, Mr. Gilmore. Perhaps you should give me a chance to finish my story before cutting me off."

  Point taken. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bates. Please continue."

  "Three nights ago, someone came into my cemetery and created a very large mess. In my experience, kids aren't capable of creating the amount of destruction that this person did."

  I tilted my head to the side. "What are we talking about? A few dug up graves and damaged headstones?"

  "An unearthed mausoleum." My jaw hit the floor, darn near literally as my chair slipped backwards when I leaned to the desk to grab a pen. "Every body inside was removed, as well as nearly two dozen close to the site."

  "So someone came in overnight with a backhoe and a crane and dug out one of your mausoleums?"

  "That's the odd part. There was not a single track in the grass, and my security staff scoured the tapes and didn't see one pass on the road."

  "Then what could unearth a whole mausoleum?" I asked, trying to keep it together.

  "That's why I called you. I was hoping you would have a better
idea than me."

  I didn't. "It's hard to say. Without seeing the scene, I'd be hard pressed to come up with even a vague idea." In the supernatural community, there were only a handful of things capable of creating a large hole in the earth like that and I hoped to any gods listening that none of them were unleashed on the earth. If one of them had, it was going to take a lot more than me to take them down.

  I went over the details of my pricing and we spent the next thirty minutes negotiating the terms of my normally nonnegotiable pricing. As much as I wanted to turn it down and walk away, he was willing to cover every dime of my expenses including a rental car while I'm there while paying half my normal rate. I wasn't particularly desperate for work, but I was more interested in finding out what caused that more than anything, so I accepted.

  "How soon can you fly out?" Nicholas asked after I agreed to his proposal.

  "I need a few hours to pack, but I could be ready as soon as this afternoon."

  He hesitated on the other end for a few moments before speaking again. "Your flight leaves at five."

  "From Columbia?" I asked. Most of the time I take the trip to St. Louis or Kansas City to get a direct flight, but if I didn't have to pay for the flight, I wasn't going to complain.

  "Is that OK with you?"

  "Not a problem. Just wanted to make sure."

  "I have a hotel room reserved for you as well. I hope you don't mind staying at the Hilton. All you need to do is show them your ID and the room is yours. You are authorized to order room service, but I put a limit of three meals per day."

  "Sounds good." Three meals per day was more than I ate during the best of times. While I'm out in the field, I'm usually lucky if I stop once a day to grab a burger or two to scarf between other tasks.

  "You can head to the hotel for the night. I'll send a driver to meet you at the front desk at ten in the morning to take you over to the cemetery."

  "I look forward to it." The rest of the conversation was typical for dealing with a business owner. He wanted to make sure I'm not going to waste any time, causing my fees to inflate above and beyond what is necessary to solve the case. Of course, most people tend to have the same reaction to my pricing. When he was done with his spiel we wished each other well and I hung up the phone.

  I looked down at my watch and saw it was closing in on noon. That gave me about three hours to get packed and down to the airport to make my flight on time. More than enough as long as I didn't end up in a long, drawn out conversation with Stacy before I left. She usually isn't the chatty type, so I didn't expect any problems.

  I grabbed my briefcase from under my desk and packed a few notebooks, a small digital camera, a handful of pens, and a book from my shelf that dealt with two of the creatures I knew that could unearth a mausoleum and break into it. As of now, my money was something in the daemonic realm. Demons have no shortage of reasons to want to see us dead, hurt, or otherwise incapacitated. Generally they get off on causing us massive amounts of emotional stress and anguish. There aren't many better ways to do that than to mess with the remains of our dead.

  With my packed briefcase I stepped out into the main office where Stacy was still busy plugging away at the desk. Her face was flush with the boredom from sitting at the desk for half the day. She isn't a complainer, but it's easy to tell when she needs some time off.

  "I'm taking a flight to New Orleans later this afternoon," I said, sitting at one of the empty seats in front of her desk.

  "You don't have to give me the speech."

  "I know," I said, sheepishly. "I just want to tell you to take the rest of the day off. You know how I get when I'm out of town."

  She snorted. "Needier than my three year old niece."

  I shot up and gave her a look of surprise. "You have a niece?"

  "And three nephews. My sister is a glutton for punishment."

  Stacy's worked for me for a few years now and this was the first I'd heard of her having a sister, let alone a whole group of relatives. It's not uncommon for the skinchanger gene to skip over siblings, even whole generations, yet I couldn't help but wonder if she had the gift too. I'd have to ask her about her sister one of these days. It would have to wait until after I got back in town.

  "I'm heading back home to pack some clothes for the trip. Just set up the voice mail before you leave." I pulled out my wallet and handed her two twenties. "Go have dinner on me."

  She gave me a wide grin. "Date night's on me!"

  Before I had a chance to walk back and close up my office, she had shut down her computer, grabbed her purse, and walked towards the front door. Even after all these years, I couldn't help but be amazed at how efficient she was.

  I turned towards my office and heard the telltale jingling of bells at the front door telling me someone had walked inside. Stacy probably just forgot something, I told myself as I grabbed a few more things. When I didn't hear them jingle again, I started to wonder if someone had really come inside. While it's not odd to have clients visit me at the office, it isn't something that happens every day. Or even once a year.

  I locked my door on the inside and walked out into the lobby. Sitting on a chair just inside the door, browsing a very old copy of People was no other than Maxwell Harper, my mentor and father. While he had made it a point to come to town more often since my trip to Cinci, it's not like him to show up without calling. If he is here, something is up. I only hoped it wasn't too serious.

  "You got bad timing, old man. I have to catch a flight here in a few hours. Need to get back to the house to pack."

  "Then I'll ride along." He placed the magazine back on the chipped wooden table next to his chair. "We need to talk."

  - 2 -

  I pulled off onto sixty-three before looking over at him. "What's wrong? It's not like you to just show up out of the blue."

  "Sometimes I swear you forget who helped raise you. I would've thought that would've given me an invitation to show up whenever I wanted."

  "It does," I said, giving him an apologetic glance. "It's just not like you to show up without calling first."

  He gave me a sarcastic smile and punched me in the arm. "You were always smart." He took in a deep breath. His chest rising and puffing out like a turkey trying to scare you away before it lowered back to its normal size. "You aren't heading to New Orleans, are you?"

  My head jerked over at him. "How'd you know?"

  "I got a call from Nicholas Bates yesterday. Something about a whole mausoleum being dug up in the middle of the night. You realize there are only a few things in existence that can something like that, right?"

  I nodded. "I'm aware."

  "Then what makes you think you are going to go off and handle this one on your own. Even the council is taking its time deciding what they need to do about it."

  "The council was contacted too?" I asked, trying to hide my surprise. Why wouldn't they be contacted if something like this was going on? But even if it didn't make sense why wouldn't they put someone on the case knowing Nicholas would keep calling if he didn't get an answer he liked? I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach I was going to be dealing with the council in this matter, but as long as I got there and accepted it first, there wasn't much they could do to keep me from my money.

  "You know better than that, boy. And when they finally get tired of talking and send a crew down there to work, you will have to give up any information you already got and be told to get out of there. I understand you are trying to run a business, but taking this case seems like suicide and a complete waste of time."

  "You said that about the case the council handed me too. Last time I checked, I took down an elder vampire single handedly."

  "Bah," he spat. "Pure luck. One of these days your luck is going to catch up with you and when it does I'm not going to be there to pick up the pieces."

  "I never asked you to help on this. Right now I'm only on retainer. If things look too deep for me to handle, I'll give him back his deposit and fly ba
ck home."

  "And ruin your company's fine reputation?" He turned and faced me, his back resting on the door. "I know you and the council don't always see eye to eye, but let them handle this one. Nicholas Bates may be offering a ton of money, but it won't do you a lick of good if you die."

  I tried to hide the shame from my face as I spoke. "It's not about the money. This is about righting the wrongs in the world."

  "Oh, I forgot. You are the world's savior. Stepping in to help those who can't help themselves. They are bones. While I agree it is wrong to disturb them, the dead have nothing else to worry about. I assure you, they don't even know what has happened."

  "Then help me. Get a ticket to New Orleans and let's figure this out. We could be in and out in a few days if we both work on the case."

  "Can't do it. Once I handed this one over to Wade, my hands were washed of it. If they find me down there now, after all of that, they are going to believe it was a setup. The mess from Cincinnati is far from over. It wouldn't take much to rekindle the flames that are trying to flicker out."

  A mess that was pinned on me, even though I was thrown into it. By this time I'd had enough of the conversation. Max could say anything he wanted and I would've just ignored him and flown to New Orleans anyway. The only way I wasn't going to go down there was if something physically stopped me. Unfortunately for me, Max had enough power running through him to stop me for weeks. I just had to hope he wasn't prepared to use it on me.

  "Then I'm sorry. I can't just turn and run on this guy now. He's already bought me a plane ticket and made hotel reservations for my stay." I looked over at him with a huge grin. "Besides. I've always wanted to be down there on the fourth."

  "I thought you always wanted to see the Manhattan show," he countered.

  "Maybe next year someone will call me with a case up that way and I can write it off as a business expense."