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Authors: Gavin Green

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Embracing the Shadows

BOOK: Embracing the Shadows
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Embracing the Shadows

Book two of the Shadows series

By Gavin Green

Copyright 2015 Gavin Green

Smashwords Edition

Also by the author:
Eire of Intrigue (book one of the Eire
series)
Eire of Mystery (book two of the Eire
series)
Eire of Hostility (book three of the Eire
series)
Eire of Aggression (book four of the Eire
series)
Into the Shadows (book one of the Shadows
series)

This is a work of fiction. All characters and
events are purely imagined. Any resemblance to real people or
situations is completely ridiculous, and you should get
professional help if you think otherwise.

Dedication:

To sugar, caffeine, and nicotine - my
unswerving, lethal friends. Also to you, for putting up with my
ramblings . . . and all the damn cussing.

"Every man casts a shadow; not his body only,
but his imperfectly mingled spirit. This is his grief. Let him turn
which way he will, it falls opposite to the sun; short at noon,
long at eve. Did you never see it?" -- Henry David Thoreau

Embracing the Shadows

HEALING

The taste of something familiar and strong
woke me. It was harsh, sweet, and potent in a smooth combination -
Viggo's blood. One of my eyes fluttered open to dim light, and a
blurry shape looming over me. There was a noise - I couldn't
understand it at first, but I recognized it as Viggo's deep,
ominous voice. I wanted to listen and obey, but all I heard was
mumbled tones.

And then pain flooded in. Most of my entire
right side throbbed with gut-wrenching agony. I gasped, which
created a whole new world of searing torture. My left eye sprung
open; only my left, because my right eyelid didn't want to
cooperate. All I could make sense of was Viggo's cracked face
looking down at me. I tried to speak, but could only force a wet
cough.

When Viggo spoke again, I realized what he
was saying; seeing his lips move helped to make sense of the words.
"Heal yourself, Leo. Concentrate," he commanded. "You have my blood
in you. Use it. Focus on mending."

I followed his order. Shutting my eye, I
blocked everything else out and focused what energy I had,
picturing Viggo's strength coursing through my veins and healing
me. Pain was spiking in my side, so I directed my efforts on my
smashed ribs. I gnashed my teeth through the slow process of
muscles and bones shifting to their intended positions. I flexed my
jaw, and then willed my energy into my shoulder and upper arm. Next
was the side of my head; I didn't know how messed up it was, but it
sure as hell didn't feel good. Before I could try to fix my
unbending knee, I passed out from exhaustion.

The next time I woke, it was to the sound of
a violin being played. I don't know shit about music, but it was
obvious that there was a lot of talent involved. Skilled hands hit
perfect notes and the virtuoso melody was soothing, but a deep echo
gave it a haunted feel. It made me think of my parents; mom was the
music, dad was the echo. I ignored the throbbing in my leg, kept my
eyes closed, and just listened.

Too soon for my liking, the music ended. A
moment after the last note faded, there was applause from a small
audience of what sounded like four or five people. After that, I
heard conversations begin, although they were garbled by echo and
distance. The air was still and musty, with sweet incense that I
could almost taste. Plus, there was a faint odor of raw meat mixed
in. My right eye was still crusted shut, so I looked around with my
left. I was in a dark space; dim light glowed far off to my right
where the voices were. I was on a soft but ugly couch, and still in
my sewer gear. I slowly sat up to get my bearings.

The first thing I noticed was that the floor
under me was made of sections of metal grates, like the bridge over
the chasm was. I guess somebody bought 'em in bulk. The couch was
against one smooth stone wall of a twenty-foot square room. Ten
feet to my left was a heavy iron door. Across from me was another
couch, with Viggo's boxes stacked next to it. To my right was
another room half a level up with stairs cut into the stone to
access it, like a split-level house. From my angle, I could only
see part of the low ceiling of the large room beyond. Pale blue
light reflected off its smooth surface.

Next to my couch was a small table that held
a dog bowl full of water and a rag. I assumed it was for me. While
I sat in the near-dark and scrubbed dried blood off my face, I
caught sluggish movement below the grated flooring. Searching, I
found my cracked hardhat next to the table and checked the
headlamp. I was surprised it still worked. I stretched my bad leg
out to the side, leaned over, and shined the light down. That
wasn't such a great idea.

Below me, I saw . . . Try to picture an
animal that was equal parts rat, Doberman, and nightmare. Then give
it growth hormones. Patches of black fur partially covered
muscular, dull red skin. Once you have that in your head, picture
five of them sleepily lying around fifteen feet below you in a den
of soiled blankets and bones. Then, because some idiot shined a
light down on them, picture those five animals suddenly glaring up
at you with yellow eyes, baring teeth the size of your thumb. When
they started snarling and howling, I turned the light off and
reactively pulled my foot off the floor.

"Ah, you are awake," Viggo said from the top
of the stairs. "Have you seen to the rest of your injuries?"

"Uh, almost; I still need to work on my leg.
Oh, by the way, sir, I had no idea I could do that - you know,
actively heal myself - with your, uh, Eidolon blood. It's . . .
Damn, you should bottle that shit."

"I am glad you approve, Leo, although there
are limitations for a minion. As you found out, the strain of
mending your wounds was quite taxing, no? For me, in comparison,
there would be no fatigue. The need to feed, however, would come
along sooner."

"Oh, okay," I said, realizing how hungry I
was. Ignoring the craving for a cheeseburger, I asked, "Was that
giant your minion, sir?"

Viggo came down the handful of stairs and
leaned against the waist-high wall. "That giant is simply called
Brute, and technically yes, he is one of mine. Other Deviants feed
him their blood as well, so he is more thought of as a servant of
the faction. Brute has the mind of a pet, but is also aggressively
defensive. It was a mistake to send him to carry in the boxes when
Roach saw you on the monitors."

"So it wasn't completely my fault?"

He shook his head. "We all are aware that
Brute is not fond of other Deviant minions. I believe he sees all
of you as potential challengers to his favored position down here
in the deep caves. Despite the considerable damage you inflicted,
he will soon be back at his post."

"I really didn't want to hurt him, but he
scared the living shit out of me. He looked like he was gonna rip
my head off, so I pulled my -"

Viggo stopped me with a raised hand. "We
watched the replay on the monitor. While Roach does not agree, Mr.
Merritt and I feel you were justified in your actions. Now, focus
on healing your leg. There are still introductions to be made and
gifts to be given . . . even if some are not fully merited."

"Yes sir." I looked down at my leg, and once
again saw the animals below us looking up. "Uh, sir," I said while
pointing down, "what exactly are those?"

He glanced down. "They are a pack of
decades-old canine minions whose diet over the years has solely
consisted of vermin and carrion. Being quite intelligent, they have
a variety of uses." Viggo then cocked his head slightly to one side
and asked, "Would you care to adopt one?"

"No fuckin' way," I blurted before I could
stop myself.

CHAMBER

After I healed my knee and managed to stack
the boxes so I could carry all of them, I followed Viggo up the
stairs into the upper-level chamber. It was basically a deep stone
vault carved into bedrock - by a machine, I assumed, because the
surfaces were fairly smooth. The area was twenty feet wide and
probably eighty feet deep, with three evenly spaced, four-foot
thick stone pillars. The ceiling was about ten feet high, but
seemed lower because of the other dimensions. By all the cobwebs
along the walls, it seemed that housekeeping wasn't one of Brute's
skills.

On the subject of Brute, it was the hemo
called Roach who sent him to come 'assist' me. Yeah, right. He knew
Viggo wasn't there yet, and also knew there would be trouble. He
was either an asshole in general, or he was yet another
supernatural prick who had a personal problem with me.

The far end of the vault was aglow with
bluish lighting, adding another level of spooky to the place. That
light came from what I later learned was a bunch of filtered
aquariums with bioluminescent algae in the water. Those aquariums
were spread around, sitting on tables between all the mismatched
living room furniture. If it weren't for the setting, I would've
thought that glowing algae was pretty damn cool.

The blue glow let me see the people at the
far end, but I was distracted by what was on either side of Viggo
and me as we walked. Banners and flags, some of which I didn't
recognize, were hung randomly on the walls. Stacked on the floor in
front of them were wooden crates of various sizes and squat
bookshelves full of dusty tomes. There were even a few archaic sets
of armor on old-style mannequins. It all looked like a history
nerd's wet dream.

I turned my attention once again to the far
end of the room, and was having some serious anxiety. Okay, more
than likely I wasn't in any real danger, but I was going to be
surrounded by hemos once again. It was a fair bet that none of them
were as pathetic as that Adept, Evan Dean, which really made me
feel like a kid lost in gang territory. I had complete faith in my
commander, but I also remembered that one of the hemos ahead of us
angrily flung me at a rock wall. I wasn't expecting any hugs.

I hesitated for a second, wishing I could
down a few drinks first. Viggo sensed my anxiety and paused with
me. He didn't say a word or even look at me; he just waited. I
didn't have the words to thank him for that small act of kindness,
so I didn't even try. I let out a deep breath, whispered a quick
"Okay", and we resumed walking forward. It was time to meet some of
the gang.

DEVIANTS

Viggo and I arrived at the end of the long
chamber. Bathed in the eerie bluish light and stark shadows were
five figures, only two of which I recognized. Barnabus Merritt
lounged on a couch to my right, and Clara Page sat near him in an
overstuffed chair that made her look smaller. We approached those
two first. Viggo had me set down the boxes and gave the heaviest
one to Barnabus.

"As promised," Viggo said to him, "a token of
my appreciation for your continued assistance. The collective works
of Thoreau; I believe you wanted these at some point, yes?"

"Ah, yes indeed, my friend," Barnabus said
with a smile as he sat up and accepted the gift. In the glow, his
bulging red eye was a violet color. "Oh, by the by, I've learned
something that might interest you. We haven't spoken since before
the emissary meeting two nights past, and it held a few interesting
topics. One of which was about the Adept's own Mr. Dominic Riva and
his recently wayward young scion. Favors are being offered for
information concerning the whereabouts of a Mr. Sebastian Horn, who
has been missing for nigh on a week."

"Interesting," Viggo commented. "I had not
heard of Mr. Horn before. Considering that Riva is the scion of
Lady Le Meur, however, I am sure that she gave him permission to
create progeny. Do we happen to have any information about where
this fledgling might be?"

"I know where he is," Clara said softly as
she wrote in a notebook on her lap. "Viv told me." With those
simple words, that little girl had everyone's attention. The hemo
behind us stopped typing on his laptop, the violin player stopped
tuning a string, and my peripheral vision caught another guy
sitting up straight.

Like everyone else, I turned to Clara,
waiting for more information. I saw the same cute black girl that I
first met a couple months back - still shy, still wearing a poncho
and stocking cap. She glanced up, saw us looking at her, and
dropped her head down to start writing again. I wondered who the
hell Viv was.

"And what exactly did Vivian tell you?" Viggo
prompted her in a calm tone.

"She said he was a bad man. She said he
didn't pay attention, and that he got powder in his blood." Clara
then looked up at Viggo. "Viv said that you know where he is,
too."

"I do, do I?"

"Yes, father," Clara replied, and then
pointed at me. "Your human caught the bad man, and you hid him
away. Viv told me where. I promise I won't tell."

BOOK: Embracing the Shadows
4.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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