The Blood Eagle in the Big Easy (28 page)

His face contorted in frustration. “Fine fine fine...” He pointed at the ceiling as he spoke quickly. “The dead guy upstairs died hard.” He shivered at the thought. “Whoever did this took him apart while he was alive and presumably awake. They removed the arm post mortem.” Pete pulled an evidence bag from his pocket containing a small silver rod. “I assume they were looking for this.” He held the bag high enough for us to see its contents. “I swear this looks like someone wrapped silver leaf around one of the metacarpal bones of an index finger.”

Pete pulled the bag out of my reach as I tried to take it. Smiling I bowed my head slightly. “You will find a pile of white ash on the ground outside under the broken second story window.” Taking the bag from his grasp. “I am going to need to keep this.”

“I figured you might so I didn’t list it in the evidence log.” Pete was through the door without another word.

“You could have told me that these guys might know who you are and what you do!” Gregory leaned back against the wall. “Would have saved a lot of time and they probably wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”

“To be honest I didn’t know. I recognized Pete but I couldn’t place his face till just now.”

Gregory shook his head as he chuckled. “I guess that explains why Jones wanted to come collect your weapon himself.” Pushing himself off the wall he gestured for me to follow. “We are going to have a long talk on the drive back. You still got a few things to explain, like how you use the word centuries like most people use the word weeks.”

“Jesus, everyone I know suddenly wants to have a heart to heart with me.” Following him through the door I sighed heavily. “Can’t we just be men about it and slap each other on the back and say good job?”

“Secrets, they have a way of sneaking up on you and making your life hell.” Gregory scanned the area looking for Jones.

It took about ten minutes before we found him leading one of the returning SOG teams that were searching the farm. Gregory called him over and asked him just how much he knew about the local courts and myself. The man lit up like a kid at Christmas as he rattled off several cases he had participated in since arriving in New Orleans seven months ago. It would seem that his mentor had also been a fan. I was finding out between Pete and Jones that I was some sort of local celebrity in the field of what they called the supernatural law enforcement community.

Not everyone that battles the darkness is part of the Courts. Many others had infiltrated ranking positions in the community and helped shield the courts from unwanted attention as well as feeding us information. Newcomers like deputy Jones were rarely invited into the ranks of the SOG but given his propensity of shooting first and asking questions later an exception was made. He had a clear sense of purpose for the first time in his life allowing him to excel in his duties. His predecessor had been killed in the line of duty when they encountered a kappa about three months ago. I recalled the incident because I had been impressed that the local law enforcement had handled the situation. I was even more impressed to learn that it was Jones who had put the kappa down with three shots to the head. One through either eye and one dead center even though he had sustained a broken arm. It was Jones’ actions during that incident that led to his promotion to the head of the SOG.

Jones remembered that I had attended his partners funeral and told me that it had meant a lot to him and the others that I had attended. Truth be told, I didn’t feel I had much of a choice. The man had died while dealing with things that I believed he knew nothing about. It happened from time to time that local law enforcement became involved before we could intervene. Most of the time it ended a lot worse than this had. I made a mental note at the time to try and recruit Jones into the ranks of Warden Securities or possibly the Courts while still allowing him to maintain his position in the Marshalls. It wasn’t often I ran across a person of such caliber, and I wasn’t in the business of wasting talent. Jones informed me of an unofficial gathering that happened once a month where people would gather and share information. I asked where and when the next one would be held and promised if he kept it quiet that I would attend.

I had every intention of recruiting the lot of them. At the very least I could send a representative to these meetings in the future and give them the information they may need to survive and to supply them the equipment they would need to at least make it a fair fight. For once I could do some real good on a larger scale for those who risked their lives for the good of others with little or no resources of their own. These were the men and women who made a real difference in our war against the darkness. These people went out there, alone in the dark, and when they found those things that bumped back they fought them with all they had. They were the brave and the unsung heros of New Orleans. They should be the ones with all the attention heaped upon them and not me. I felt a little embarrassed by the whole thing.

Ever had one of those conversations where you swore it tore a hole in the entire space time continuum? Well I was currently having one of those conversations on my way back across the bridge with Gregory. He’d started shortly after we pulled out of the old farmhouse in Fulton and had barely stopped long enough between questions for me to answer.

He’d taken the entire ‘I’m older than Jesus’ thing pretty good to be perfectly honest. Of course there were the Vlad the Impaler jokes when he discovered I’d regained consciousness in the Carpathian Mountains. This was all new material since he was a fan of sparkly vampires, a concept I was still very happy to say I didn’t understand. I never read the series nor watched the movies but if the trailers were any indication someone needed a new set of balls. The main character in those atrocious movies and Gregory both needed to be checked to ensure that they were truly male.

The creature that the entire vampire mythos was built on was as varied as there were cultures in the world. Most didn’t dine on the flesh and blood of their victims but off of their energy or Chi as the Orient called it. Not all of them were absolutely evil but their need to survive sometimes required darker acts than what most would consider polite.

I’d moved from one place to another over the centuries trying not to overstay my welcome. Truth be known back in the earlier days when people caught wind of the fact that I didn’t seem to age they would consider me either a demon or a guardian angel. Either way it made my life much too difficult. A part of me though always felt compelled to fight the darkness, to keep it at bay in the hopes those around me would find the light, so to speak anyway.

It was during this time that I set out to create various organizations wherever I happened to be at the time. These people were the ones who would stand against the darkness when I was no longer able to do so or when I happened to move on. It wasn’t as if I understood what I was at the time and I certainly didn’t know I was ‘age challenged’ for lack of a better PC term, and I wasn’t about to use the word ‘immortal’ with Gregory since he seemed ready to burst as it was.

I still made the rounds to the different headquarters of these long lived organizations, schools, or standing police forces, you can choose what you would like to call them. Many had volunteered to share their knowledge with Warden Industries during the last few decades allowing for better communications and coordinated efforts to subdue problems that shifted from one country to another. In this way we were able to adhere to our most sacred law which was to ‘protect and serve’ more efficiently.

The courts here in Louisiana were but one incarnation of many throughout the world. All who belonged to the courts or their counterparts served a greater good and are held to a higher standard. The brave souls who stood against the darkness were sometimes all that stood between man and their destruction. Throughout the centuries so many fell in their duties as to outnumber the stars in the sky.

Their sacrifices would never be known except in rare instances where they were immortalized in some sort of legendary story like Hercules or some other so called work of fiction or myth. Long ago I knew the man in which the myth of Hercules was based. He was hardly a saint but in this line of work who is? Many of the stories about the Olympians were based on beings of great power who fought the darkness. Just like the courts in New Orleans they were hardly shy about their presence and were more than happy to boast of their accomplishments. Eventually the Olympians morphed into the Eleusinian Schools which still exist today in one form or another. Over the years I have encountered many beings, perhaps not on the scale of Hustahli, but many of the creatures you read about in myth have a basis in reality if not completely factual.

Gregory was curious why each of the societies were created independently instead of being one vast all powerful organization. The answer lies within the question itself. An organization that powerful when left to its own devices could go through the world unchecked. Also each culture should have the right to govern themselves without outside interference.

While I encouraged each of them to share information, no one organization held sway over another even within the same man-made territorial boundaries. Within each territory the society was based after their own local myths and legends. Some myths were so ancient that none knew their origin. The Norse mythos for instance was so ancient that there was no living record of their existence. They were a tough and hardy people and the northern Europeans had a lot in common with these Asgardians.

Come to think of it, the Norse were the toughest of all to organize due to their pride and traditions. The truth of the matter was that they were more than capable of handling their own issues without me or my over zealous plans. It was due to their self sufficient nature that I chose to follow one of their leaders to the New World. It was as brutal as it was beautiful. The native people were humble yet capable and lived in harmony with the land. It took a few hundred years to work my way south through the wild and yet untamed land. This is when I met the Choctaw and learned their ways. It would be another century before I encountered my first wraith and my subsequent meeting with Hustahli.

By the time I dropped Gregory at his office he was understandably dazed, trying to comprehend the totality of what he had learned. He was handling the information better than most who had learned only a fraction of what he now knew. Without Gregory in the car the trip home was considerably shorter as well as a lot quieter! My fingers kept fidgeting with the evidence bag as I walked to my apartment. Absently waving at the doorman as he opened the door for me my mind wandered through the days events. I punched the elevator button and waited for the doors to slid open, allowing me to step inside for the privacy I desired. Taking the evidence bag out of my jacket pocket I held it up to the light to inspect it properly. Pete had hit the nail on the head! This was a metacarpal bone which had been removed presumably from one of my family members. The silver coating seemed to be made of the same nanites and were still trying to preserve what was left of their owner.

Passing through the front door of my apartment a few moments later I headed for my bedroom placing the evidence bag on the dresser. A shower was definitely in order after the day I had. All I could hope was that dead wraith actually washed off. It took me much longer than normal to feel even remotely clean. I just couldn't seem to wash the ickiness off me with any certainty! My stomach was growling and I knew it was time to get out of the shower, no matter what my feelings were about my current state of hygiene. Grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a tshirt I dressed on the way to the kitchen to find something to eat. I always kept a fully stocked pantry but my refrigerator was a different story entirely. All I could find were boring cold cuts. Before I had a chance to take a bite of anything the front door rattled with a soft knock, which surprised me. I wasn’t exactly expecting guests. It wasn’t as if stranger things hadn’t happened today and having an unannounced visitor was hardly out of the ordinary. 

The tile floor was cold on my bare feet as I made my way across the room. Opening the door I was stunned to find Mir standing there.

“What the hell?” Looking around the hall to ensure he wasn’t seen I quickly ushered him inside. “Did anyone see you?”

“I should think not.” Mir’s face was colored with mirth. “Unless you know someone else in the royal family.”

Understanding flooded through me. Only those who were born with the implants in their optic nerves could see him. “Oh yeah, my bad. So what’s with the door routine?”

“Thought it might be a better idea than just popping in on you unannounced.” He casually strolled across the room taking a seat at the bar. “In time you will be able to sense my presence or even summon me when needed but for now those particular functions are still offline.”

Returning to my sandwich I layered it with more meat than bread, which was the way a sandwich should be in my opinion. “Seems you’ve been quickly updating my system. Some of the recent upgrades have been extremely helpful.”

“Like being able to kill a wraith?” Mir longingly eyed my food. “You should be careful not to overextend yourself.”

Choking down my food I found myself slightly annoyed with Mir. “Like I had a lot of choices at the time!”

“True enough.” He leaned back in his chair as he lost himself in thought. “Your new abilities will need exercising. Think of it as training for a marathon. The more you use them the less they will tax your system.”