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Authors: Brooklyn James

BOOK: 2 Brooklyn James
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“Close your eyes,” Emily barks applying a potholder to his hand, the only thing she could find in the bachelor’s kitchen. His breathing sporadic, his eyes once confident and sure settle on hers, now afflicted and appealing. His trepidation resonates with Emily as she remembers her own fear with her early transformations. She softens her demeanor, holding the potholder snugly against his lacerations. “Close your eyes,” her tone gently coercive. “Trust me.” He obeys as if compelled by some deep-seated affinity to do so. William Truly and Dr. Ryan cautiously make their way beside Dr. Godfrey, intrigued and ultimately bewildered.

Emily studies him, consciously slowing her breathing rate, gaining control of her sympathetic nervous system. The rise and fall of Tony’s chest now matches hers, slow and governed. The intense ringing inside his head eases as his heartbeat decelerates, returning to a calm, gentle
ga-gung…ga-gung…ga-gung.

“Aubrey,” Emily calls serenely, her voice prompting Tony to open his eyes, the emerald green ring encasing his handsome hazels grows faint. “Check the bathroom for some gauze…bandaging of some sort.”

“Dr. Godfrey?” Dr. Ryan awaits an explanation.

“He’s O-positive. He said the blood clotted…on his hand…when in contact with hers,” Dr. Godfrey reasons aloud. “How can this be? Did I miss something?” he questions his own research, realizing Tony’s very existence challenges the core of his hypothesis.

Aubrey knocks timidly on the bathroom door, yielding no answer from Gina as the shower continues to run.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
she beats forcefully, turning the handle to no avail at the repressive lock. “Crap,” she mutters suspiciously. Still no answer. “Oh, Lancelot.” Marks dashes to her aid, causing an onslaught of curious glances to follow him.

“Dammit Gina,” Emily spews, maintaining her pressure to Tony’s hand.

Aubrey steps back, gesturing toward the door. Marks does not hesitate, planting his shoulder firmly into the weakest portion of the upright wooden rectangle. The lock breaks loose, flinging the door back against the bathroom wall. Aubrey charges in, whipping the shower curtain back, validating her hunch. The curtain from the open window in the corner blows softly with the cool night breeze.

“Aubrey?” Dr. Ryan beckons, her tone expectant.

“Well, she’s gone,” Aubrey answers flippantly, trekking up the hallway.

“What do you want to do?” William Truly asks, preparing to deliver per Dr. Ryan’s request.

“She can’t be too far away,” she reasons, grabbing her jacket from the sofa.

“None of this would be happening if you had your facts straight to begin with, Mother,” Emily spouts.

“She’s going after Lon,” Aubrey says.

“How can this be?” Dr. Godfrey questions, still contemplating Tony and his Vigilare capabilities, refusing to believe his meticulous research could have a glitch.

“Bring the car around,” Dr. Ryan orders, throwing the keys to William Truly. “What do you mean, she’s going after Lon?” she quizzes Aubrey, confused. “Lon? Her dead husband? Why would she be after him?”

“Here Sarge,” Marks throws a lump of gauze at Tony retrieved from his bathroom medicine cabinet.

“Is that who she thought she saw? In the window? This morning at the café?” Emily’s mind works, attempting to fit the pieces of the puzzle. “Has she gone batshit crazy?”

Tony calmly wraps the gauze around his hand. “You’re not going to find her until she wants to be found,” his voice resonates through the calamity, ceasing William Truly’s exit.

Emily chuckles scornfully. “Well, would you look at this guy,” she says, gesturing at Tony. “One little taste of the celestial and he’s a visionary.” She hurls the potholder onto his counter. “You have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”

“Why don’t you fill me in then,” he replies, his tone overtly demanding.

“Oh sure, let’s just jump in bed with the enemy,” Emily indicates his detective status, the
system
surely not on her list of trusted allies. “Although, Gina seemed to find it quite intriguing.” She turns to Dr. Godfrey. “Which, by the way, may explain your quandary about the compatibility of his O-positive blood and Vigilare pedigree. Didn’t think it through that far, did ya?” her timbre now reprimanding. “What happens when a Vigilare exchanges bodily fluids?” She slams her hand down on the table, once more feeling as though her rights, her freedoms have been contaminated. She turns to Dr. Ryan with deep affliction. “What have you done?”

Aubrey stands in the middle of the living room, Emily’s analysis hitting home. One more rule. One more infringement upon her liberties as a living, breathing woman with physical, emotional, pure biological needs. One more experience she will be expected to forgo to protect herself and others, while responsibly maintaining her Vigilare status. She looks to Marks, who already has her in his sights. With an apologetic expression, her eyes fall to the floor. Emily turns away from everyone, making a beeline for the front door.

“Emily,” Dr. Ryan pleads, restrained by the comforting, guiding hand of William Truly, petitioning her to give their daughter some space. Aubrey follows quietly behind Emily, the two ultimately united. The door closes behind them. Dr. Ryan turns into William Truly, her body language pleading.

“It’ll be alright,” he comforts. “They just need a little time, that’s all.”

Remembering they are in the presence of others, she quickly retracts from her vulnerable position. “What do you suggest we do, Detective?” Tony looks at her taken aback, confused by her invitation for his advice. “I agree with you. She’s not going to surface until she’s ready. And I’m sure she doesn’t exactly have the greatest trust in me, given the immediate situation.” She looks to him, sincerely interested in his input.

Tony exhales, briskly wrenching his hand about the back of his neck, contemplating. “Well, first, you gotta level with me. I mean, what’s at stake here? And why does she think her dead husband is alive?” He pauses, troubled. “Is he?”

Dr. Ryan and Dr. Godfrey share a concerned glance. “It’s our belief,” Dr. Ryan begins, “that ETNA has somehow created an imposter of Gina’s deceased husband, Lon.”

“ETNA?” Tony asks.

“You remember ETNA Division, the government’s equivalent to Sector 5,” Dr. Godfrey helps him out. “They deal in the supernatural. They’re quite illusive.”

“You mean Dr. Shaw? The guy that testified at Gina’s trial. That ETNA?” Tony recalls.

“Yes. That ETNA. However, Dr. Shaw is dead,” Dr. Ryan clarifies. “He died at the ravine. The tire tracks on the bank left by the black Sedan that you were so curious about…that was Dr. Shaw’s.”

“ETNA. Dr. Shaw caught onto Gina,” Tony deduces, his eyes wild with newfound motive. “Gina was right. The son-of-a-bitch hoarded her blood and lied under oath to protect his own agenda.” Tony scratches his head. “But if Shaw’s dead, what does ETNA want with Gina? Is the whole damn sector dirty?”

“It would seem so.” Dr. Ryan shrugs her shoulders.

“Imposter?” Tony paces the kitchen floor. “She said something…back at the hotel. About a man she met downstairs…at the ball…with a spider web tattoo, eyes like hers…only red…and hot, burning.”

Dr. Godfrey’s face grows fervidly alarmed.

“Ah, no,” Tony growls. “Don’t tell me this is another unexpected curve ball in your research.” Tony leans over the table, his arms propped and flexed, his head hanging between his shoulders in deep thought. “Spider web tattoo? Spider web tattoo? Where have I heard that?” His head jolts upright. “Gina’s visions. She told me about a guy with a spider web tattoo on his neck.” He cocks his head to the side, his deductions not quite adding up. “DeLuca doesn’t strike me as the type to marry a guy with a spider web tattoo on his neck.”

“Manny Briggs,” Dr. Ryan comes to his aid. “Manny Briggs has a spider web tattoo on his neck. He’s the man from her visions.” She exhales heavily, looking to William Truly who nods his head affirmatively, coaxing her to divulge more to Tony. “Gina used to be a lawyer. Her name was Brianna Castille, married to Lon Castille. Their son…Braydon.”

“The boy from her visions,” Tony adds.

Dr. Ryan nods. “As Brianna Castille, attorney, she prosecuted Manny Briggs and his partner, Angelo Tulane for the rape of three women. The jury convicted the men. Upon their parole, they stormed her home in a New Orleans suburb.” Dr. Ryan winces in preparation to tell the rest of Gina’s story. “They tied her brutally beaten husband and her son to chairs at the foot of her bed, heinously raped her, and left all three of them for dead.”

Tony’s teeth grind at the picture Dr. Ryan paints. “And that’s where you come in?” He eyes Dr. Godfrey direly. “The mad scientist. The intricate combination of her blood mixed with her husband’s and her son’s, making her immortal.” He pushes off the table, his posture now erect and intimidating, blood forcefully pumping through his veins. “She…Gina…said his eyes were like hers…only red.” Tony’s words are matched with footsteps in Dr. Godfrey’s direction, who back-peddles, his pace far outmatched by Tony’s. Tony grabs him up by the collar of his white lab coat, harshly planting his back into the door behind him. “Immortal, is she?” he seethes.

“Detective!” Dr. Ryan summons, her voice astir.

“Sarge,” Marks pleads as he and William Truly avidly work to remove his hold from Dr. Godfrey’s windpipe who gasps for air, his face turning blue.

Tony releases his grip, his chest heaving up and down as he stalks circles in his living room. Dr. Ryan assists a coughing Dr. Godfrey into the recliner. Marks and William Truly remain in position at the door, eyeing one another should their loyalty be tested.

“How’d you get her to go along with this?” Tony contemplates, circling fervidly, surely leaving patchwork in the carpeting. “How’d you do it!” he barks.

“Manny Briggs,” Dr. Ryan snaps, kneeling to Dr. Godfrey’s aid. “Gina agreed on one condition. We go after the men who killed her family.”

“So, there could be two of them? Red-eyed imposters…Vigilares…whatever the hell you wanna call them,” Tony fumes.

“Only one,” Dr. Godfrey adds, clearing his throat. “According to their medical records, Manny Briggs is the only compatible option. The only one with O-negative blood.”

Tony starts for him, still infuriated. Dr. Ryan stands in front of Dr. Godfrey, her arm outstretched defensively. Tony shakes his head in contempt, swiftly diverting from his trajectory. “You told me I was incompatible, too. Remember that,
Doc?”
he sneers. “Why the hell would ETNA use a convict? Unless they’re gluttons for mayhem.” He continues pacing.

“They’ve employed Briggs because it’s the only card they hold to ensure Gina’s participation,” Dr. Ryan clarifies. “Bottom line, ETNA wants her, no matter how they have to go about getting her.”

“Why is she here in the first place? In New Orleans?” Tony asks.

“Briggs and Tulane. They were lifers at the Louisiana State Pen. Serving sentences for the murder of Gina…Brianna, her husband, and her son,” Dr. Ryan begins. “Gina was ready. Aubrey and Emily were ready. They trained and rehearsed for months. I found a way to get them verified…as prison guards. Manipulated a
transfer
for Briggs and Tulane. Everything was in place,” she talks herself through the steps, still disappointed she could not deliver. She shrugs. “ETNA got to them before we did.”

“Has your station been compromised?” Tony directs his question to William Truly inquiring about the compound.

“Tight as a drum,” he ensures.

“She has to have eyes on her,” Tony says. “How else would they know she was at the masquerade ball?”

“The compound and its perimeter are locked down. Anything outside of that is a risk. Gina knows this,” William Truly defends.

“They had time to track her,” Dr. Ryan inserts, “from the prison in Angola to her return to New Orleans. If ETNA got to Briggs and Tulane before we did, surely they have eyes somewhere at the penitentiary. And what better place to play out their façade than at a masquerade ball.”

Tony shakes his head. “But wouldn’t Gina know the difference? I mean, I get the mask, but wouldn’t she feel a difference?” He stops, thumping his hand against the left side of his chest. “In here? Between her husband…ah, deceased husband,” he clarifies uncomfortably, “and an evil son-of-a-bitch?” He turns circles yet again. “DeLuca has great instincts. I’ve seen her in action. She would be able to read that.”

“Ahem,” Dr. Godfrey beckons, continuing upon a tolerant glance from Tony, “Vigilares can sense one another. It may not be clear necessarily, especially with this being her first contact with the
Hell Hound.
However, there would be some level of assimilation, which may have been misconstrued by her subconscious as a familiar or likened experience.”

“Accompanied with a deep-seated desire to believe her thought-to-be-deceased husband is, in fact, alive, could make for a very intriguing and believable perception,” Dr. Ryan adds. “We’ve all lost people in our lives. Imagine the hope of reconnecting with them.”

Tony looks at them disbelieving.

“How do you think you found Gina? At the masquerade ball?” Dr. Godfrey prods knowingly.

Tony shrugs. “Marks radioed me.”

“Ok,” Dr. Godfrey agrees. “How do you think the glass broke in your hand?”

Tony’s eyebrows flinch. He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Emily,” Dr. Godfrey sheds some light.

Tony’s mind recalls the events, replaying it slowly. Emily’s fist slams down sharply on the table proceeded by a loud
Pop!
The glass shatters in his hand, the shards fall to the floor. He looks around the room accusingly, wondering who else is among her company.

“Just Gina, Emily and Aubrey,” Dr. Ryan answers his unspoken inquisition. “And…well…apparently you.”

Dr. Godfrey’s eyes light up as he leans forward in his chair gaping at Tony. “What happened when you and Vigilare…Gina, came into contact at the masquerade ball?”

“The freaking Fourth of July!” Marks interjects, unable to quench his exuberance.

Dr. Godfrey and Tony jerk their heads in his direction. “Go on,” Dr. Godfrey encourages, his round face beaming. Marks looks to Tony, whose expression begs explanation, giving him all the approval he needs.

“Fireworks, Doc. That’s what happened. You should’ve seen it.” Marks’ eyes widen with excitement. “They tore the place up. Shit was exploding and snapping and zapping. It was like TNT!”

Dr. Godfrey chuckles heartily, the wonderment of his busy mind explicit in his demeanor.

“Do you remember any of that, Detective?” Dr. Ryan inquires.

Tony shakes his head. “Not really. Just moments. Like a dream.”

“You will, my friend,” Dr. Godfrey consoles. “With a little work you’ll get there.”

“Did you say
Hell Hound?”
Tony ignores his encouragement, questioning his previous reference to the red-eyed Manny Briggs.

Dr. Godfrey nods, his expression sincere. “Red…dark red symbolizes fire, anger, rage, malice, wrath,” he takes his time, fully enunciating each word, driving home its definition. “ETNA is sending a very clear message. Are you familiar with Greek mythology, Detective?”

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