The Light Who Shines (10 page)

Jack looks a little uncomfortable when I make this
declaration, but he nods. “I do know more than most.”

“Well, have you ever heard of someone having an aura strong
enough to scare Dark Vampires away?”

Jack suddenly starts coughing very hard, and his color turns
a little gray just before he turns his head away. When the coughing subsides, he
finally looks up at me and asks, “Where did you hear this?”

I try to sound nonchalant. “Oh, Father O’Brennen and I were
talking, and he mentioned hearing that happened once.”

Jack is my boss, so I really don’t want to get into the
whole died at birth, chased Dark Vampires away by the age of three, and was
rescued by a mysterious Daylight Vampire thing. It seems a little heavy. What I
want is for him to think of me as a capable professional.

Jack seems to have recovered from his spontaneous coughing
fit and says, “As a matter of fact, I think there was one case that I recall, a
long time ago. I would prefer not to go into the details, though.”

Then, in an obvious attempt to change the topic, he demands,
“You’re injured. You have been avoiding telling me about it. I need to know
what happened.”

I retort, “Like you are avoiding telling me about auras
chasing Vampires away?”

Jack smiles smugly. “Yes. Exactly like that, except that you
work for me. Tell me what happened.”

Jack leans back in his chair and his hair, which is full of
dark gold curls, catches the sunlight from the window. He keeps it long enough
so you can see the curls but not long enough for them to be ringlets. He has vivid
green eyes and a disturbingly sexy five o’clock shadow. His broad shoulders look
magnificent in his light gray suit. I’m not sure what make it is because I
don’t shop in those stores myself, but it is clearly very elegant. His charcoal
gray tie hangs loose, and his top shirt button is undone, both very
uncharacteristic of him. I wonder if my late timing made him that upset or if
it was something else. His eyelids droop lazily as he leans back in his chair,
looking the picture of ease, but I’m not fooled. He’s watching me intently.

I take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell him
about the incident with the masked man. Since no out presents itself and I see
no way to further delay, I fold my hands in my lap and say gently, “As I was
leaving my apartment building today, a man grabbed me from behind in the alley,
disarmed me, and held a knife to my throat.”

Jack doesn’t move a hair, but the air in the room
immediately fills with a violent, thrumming energy. He, who is usually so hard
to read, is pouring deathly rage into the room to such an extent it seems the
very air is becoming pressurized to the point of explosion. Outwardly I see
only that his eyes tighten at the corners and turn into two black, bottomless pits.
His mouth is fuller, a sign his fangs have extended, though he keeps his lips
tightly sealed. His absolute stillness feels indubitably more dangerous than a
thousand men attacking with knives. Others might not notice anything wrong if
they walked in this room at this moment, but with my gift, I feel it. I am
almost overcome by it.

I lift my chin a degree and brave the threatening explosion.
“The man was wearing a mask and had me from behind, so I can’t give a good
description. From what I could tell, he was about six feet tall and thin, with
an obvious beard beneath the mask. That matches the description from the
bartender at the Cock and Bull Tap of the man wearing the red cloak. There was
no red cloak today, though. He was wearing a gray cloak and dark pants with a
white top. He was asking about the amulet, but I obviously didn’t tell him
where it is.”

Jack moves his hands slightly, gripping the edge of his
desk. Despite seeing his knuckles turn white and hearing the wooden desk groan
beneath his fingertips, I finish the tale.

I drop my voice to a whisper, knowing full well he can hear
me clearly but hoping to calm him slightly as I recount the entirety of the
events. When I finish, Jack’s eyes are still black pools, but he has relaxed
his hold on the desk. I see the intelligence has returned to his eyes, and they
start to flicker as he internally calculates all the possibilities of what
happened, what could have happened, and what might happen. I’m afraid of what
his conclusions might be, but even this is preferable to the mindless black
rage I saw in them a few moments ago.

Jack finally leans forward and appears to regain his voice. Through
his clenched teeth he snarls, enunciating the key words, “You
took
an
injured
wolf
that was about to
kill a man
…in your car
with you
?”

I’ve learned that when Jack is snapping like steel I need to
remain strong like silk.

“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so great. But
it was really fine. I went straight for my Glock, but I didn’t need it.” I
decide not to tell Jack that I couldn’t make myself pull the trigger. He doesn’t
seem in the mood to hear it, and I’m not above omitting teeny tiny, irrelevant
facts such as that.

“And where is this wolf now?” Jack inquires.

“He’s with my friend Alexis getting cleaned up, cared for,
and fed.”

This seems to settle Jack down slightly, but still he probes,
“And he showed no signs of aggression toward you or Alexis?”

“None whatsoever, I swear, nor toward her assistant. I’m
sure his aggression was directed solely toward the man.”

Jack settles back a bit more.

I stand up again and start pacing. “So, as I was saying, I
had to drop the wolf off at Alexis’ so this put me behind. Then I went straight
to the Medical Examiner’s office.”

Jack nods his head and says, “We’ll get back to the masked
man in a moment. But tell me, what did you find out from the M.E.?”

I hand Jack a copy of the preliminary report. Jack sits
quietly for a few minutes, scanning through it. He flips through the pages, and
I watch his face as it goes through several degrees of disgust and rage—not
quite the degree of rage I saw just a few moments ago, but rage nonetheless.
When he finally looks up, his mood is black.

“It was pretty bad,” I say.

Jack’s mouth presses in a tight line. “I see that it was.”

“Well, I also stopped by the Dragomir Magical Artifact Shop
and got a little history on the amulet.”

Jack looks curious. “Did you speak with The Dragomir
herself?”

I raise my eyebrow. “Yes. Do you know her?”

Jack’s lips twitch slightly, and I can see immediately that
he does know her, perhaps personally. I feel more than a little angry about
this and try to school my face from forming the scowl it wants to. I remind
myself he is my boss, and even if he were interested in me, it would not be
wise to pursue any type of relationship. He is also goodness knows how old, so
I must seem terribly immature to him. He probably has some stunning Vampiress
that I cannot possibly compete with keeping him company at home. This thought
does not help with my scowling problem.

Jack says, “Yes. I’ve known her for some years. She’s an
expert on certain topics.”

I scowl despite myself. I bet she is an expert on certain
topics!

Jack gives me an assessing glance and asks, “How did your
interview with her go?” I frown and contemplate how much to tell him. I stand
and pace a little as I speak, feeling restless for some reason. “She gave me a
hard time at first, but when I showed her a drawing of the amulet she was very
forthcoming. She told me the amulet is part of a key. There are two parts: the amulet
and an eye that fits in the center. The eye is missing from the piece I have.
Both together serve as the key to the
Grimorium Cantionum Spiritualium
.”

Jack sits up straight.
“The Spell Book of the Spirit and Soul?
”

I nod slightly, watching his reaction.

Jack demands, “And where do you have it stored?”

“I have it hidden in the wall of the bell room in St. Michael’s
Church. I thought it best to stash it on holy ground.”

“That was a good choice,” Jack says. “So, did Dragomira tell
you the history of the book?”

“Yes. How did you know about it, though? It sounds like it
was kept pretty secret.”

Jack frowns and looks out the window, obviously considering
what to tell me. “Years ago I did some research on the Birth of Vampires. That is
actually how I met The Dragomir. I’ve never seen the book, of course; no one
has. I’ve only read some of the history.”

Something has been bothering me about the story, and I bet
Jack knows the answer. “How come this story isn’t well known? It was obviously
pivotal in our history.”

Jack stands up and appears to be concentrating on something
outside the window before he angles toward me. “The book itself is too powerful
for many to know of. But to get to the root of your question, remember that it
took some time for the Vampire population to grow and cover the globe. It wasn’t
until about a third of the way through the Deconstruction Era of the Red Ages
that knowledge of Vampires was widespread, and the incident with the book had
long past. People just knew that Vampires were. The further civilization
deconstructed, the harder communication and learning became. Then, of course,
during the Bloody Era of the Red Ages, all humans were in hiding.”

Jack walks close to me, standing slightly in my body space
again. His eyes implore me for something. “Even though I was turned during the Bloody
Era of the Red Ages, I am not proud of who we were and what we did. I know that
most Daylight Vampires feel the same. We are ashamed of how we treated humans
and how we looked away as Dark Vampires destroyed your breeds.”

My mind reels. Jack has just dated himself to before the
Reconstruction Era. That makes him over five hundred years old. Jack’s eyes
search my face, and I can feel that he is seeking some sort of absolution from
me, a person who had not even been born at that time.

“Jack,” I say, “you are only responsible for your own
actions, and what you do today speaks to who you are now, not what your people did
five hundred years ago. Civilization is such a thin veil over our savage
selves, easily lifted by some for personal glorification. Look at the Dilectus
Deo if you want an example of that. We fight to hold on to our moral values and
maintain civility between breeds. Regardless of what your people did in the
past, Daylight Vampires did make the peace pact with humans that brought on the
Reconstruction Era. Today you keep us safe from Night-Crawlers, and today that
is what matters.”

I can see his eyes lighten, and he steps back, leaning
against the wall of windows behind him. Then he looks sharply at me. “So someone’s
trying to get the book now. It is a very dangerous book, Blue. It could be an interbreed
disaster if it gets into the wrong hands. It could destroy the peace we’ve
fought for during the last five hundred years.”

“I know,” I say. “I also learned a few more things today,
but before I get into that, I want to show you this.” I reach behind my back
and pull out my knife.

Jack’s eyes light up. He holds out his hand and says, “May
I?”

I give it to him hilt forward and watch him caress it with
his thumb and his eyes. “It’s beautiful,” he says.

“Dragomira gave it to me. I wasn’t sure if I should take it.
It’s obviously very valuable. However, after the incident this morning, I
couldn’t say no.”

Jack looks up at me with a question in his eyes, then he
seems to answer it for himself. You should keep it,” Jack says. “Do you have a
sheath for it?”

I shake my head.

Jack takes it to his closet and steps inside with it. I can
see some ammunition belts and swords hanging, but Jack’s broad back blocks most
of my view. He rummages around a little, then closes the door. Turning back to
me, he places the knife in a beautifully embossed black leather sheath. He
hands it to me. “A weapon this special should be housed properly.”

I smile from ear to ear as I run my fingers over the
exquisite craftsmanship.

Jack says, “Now, about the other things that you learned.
Please tell me everything.” He is back to his feigned laziness again, crossing
his legs gracefully as he leans against the window.

I oblige. “After the M.E.’s, I went to the precinct. The boy
was on the missing persons list for twenty-eight days. His name is Jason
O’Connell. He had a magical gift, but it is unclear what it was as he was just
coming into power. His mother is Gifted as well, and she hid it from her husband
for their entire marriage. When the boy came out, the mother came out as well,
and the father split. He is obviously a person of interest, but Gambino isn’t
feeling it.”

“You plan on questioning them?”

I pace a little, then come to a halt before the window. “Yes.
I will do that first thing tomorrow. I should be in the office before noon.”

I pivot toward Jack as a thought comes to mind. “By the way,
can I share openly with Gambino about the book?”

This must be an important question because Jack raps twice
on the window behind him in his thoughtful way before answering. “I think we
need to tell him a powerful and dangerous book is involved,” he says, “but I
don’t think we need to give him details or the history. Furthermore, I don’t
think you need to tell him where the amulet is. The fewer people who know, the
better.”

I nod at this and contemplate it awhile. Jack seems to
understand my pause, because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to lie.
It is sensitive information and we have a right—no, a responsibility—to keep it
confidential. Tell him it falls under the category of privileged information.”
I nod again, this time feeling a lot more comfortable.

Then Jack asks, “So, what are your theories on the murder so
far?”

I start pacing again as I think for a moment. Many theories
have run through my head, some more viable then others. “The boy was hit by the
car at an angle. It seems to me if someone was purposely running him down it
would most likely have been head-on, though not necessarily.