After Sundown: Illumination Page 3

  “They just gave it up?” Jason had asked in stunned disbelief.

  His mother had paused before answering. It had obviously been as hard for her to believe as it was for him.

  “Yes. It’s like they just stopped caring about it. One day they were there, part of the group, striving to hold the integrity and strength of the clan together, and the next they dropped everything and walked away.”

  After promising to call his mother soon, he had hung up and immediately mulled over her words and concerns. He couldn’t understand why some of his clan members had given up not only their Shimara affiliation but also their Chailo. A gargoyle’s Chailo was everything. It was their mission in life, one which they were given at the time of their birth. Each clan had a Visara, or spiritual guide, who attended childbirths and discovered each individual’s life quest as they emerged from the womb. One of the Visara’s jobs is to then write down what that baby’s quest is, and seal the document in an envelope. The parents hold the document for the child until they are thirteen, then in a special maturity ceremony in front of family and friends, present it to them.

  Shaina had discovered something serious going on between the clans and the Nimchava. He was sure that discovery had to do with her disappearance. Someone wanted to keep her quiet. Just as they had kept his father quiet. Since her disappearance Jason had followed a couple of leads. He knew he was on the right track.

  It was only a matter of time.

  His mother would soon be found and whoever had dared to take her from him would be severely punished. He had never been able to avenge his father’s death, and the Jutaka part of him, his father’s clan, screamed for retribution against those who would do this to his mother.

  The punisher in him would make them pay.

  Chapter Three

  Jason got his anger under control as he pulled into the mostly deserted parking lot of the Sundown Security Agency. He still couldn’t get over the new building. According to Vlad Maksimovitch, the agency’s owner, business was booming, and the ancient vamp felt it would continue to do so. So the whole team had left the old, cramped office space Vlad had rented and moved to a new location this month.

  Grabbing his bow from behind the seat and slinging it over his shoulder as he got out of his car, Jason thought about how the somewhat plain and unassuming brick exterior of the building housed some of the best security equipment available today. It was like a techno gadget geek’s dream. If boys liked their toys, this was the place for them. Although most specialists at Sundown were preternatural freaks like him with powers most humans only fantasized about they all knew that a little extra technology couldn’t hurt their chances of achieving the agency’s goal—protecting the lives of the clients they were assigned to guard. Each security specialist on the team took that vow very seriously.

  Despite the fact that Vlad had had the new building completely redesigned, it was still located in one of the seedier parts of Phoenix. Just down the street from the old offices, their neighbors were the state mental institution and the cheap motels where prostitutes displayed their wares. It was an area where the children of the night wandered ceaselessly—those who didn’t want to be seen during daylight hours, those like him, who couldn’t be seen while the sun still shone, and those who preferred the night’s cover to accomplish their nefarious deeds.

  “Still stuck with a head full of stones, Jason?”

  Swinging around toward the voice, Jason grinned. Leave it to that little fairy Malcolm to start with him when he was about ready to explode. The guy had a way of pushing his buttons, but Jason never let that get in the way of their friendship. He just pushed right back.

  Malcolm grinned tauntingly as he approached Jason’s car.

  “How long does it take that thick-as-a-brick brain of yours to revert to intelligent thinking after the transformation?”

  Jason strode toward the building and his friend fell in step beside him.

  “Probably less time than it takes you to get that fairy dust and sparkle crap out of your air head, Malcolm.”

  “Better a head full of fairy dust than a brain filled with rocks, my gargoyle friend,” Malcolm said.

  “In your sparkly dreams, fairy boy.”

  “In my dreams? In my dreams you don’t exist.”

  “Nice comeback… I mean, for a fairy boy.”

  “Better a fairy boy than a blockheaded caveman.”

  “Caveman?” Jason looked back over his shoulder as they walked through the front doors of the agency and smirked at the fairy. “Yeah, that was original—not!”

  Instead of the quick comeback he expected from his friend, Malcolm stopped dead in his tracks and gaped at something slightly beyond where Jason stood.

  Unease tingled at the back of his neck and without thought Jason drew his bow at the same time as he whipped around. This hiss of it leaving its scabbard was instantly replaced by the twang of the string as he nocked his arrow. As was the way of the gargoyle, from the time he was young Jason had been taught to always be prepared for his enemies, and to load and shoot his bow in a matter of seconds.

  But the minute Jason saw who stood before him he quickly lowered his weapon.

  One of the most respected couples in the state was standing in the front office of Sundown Security. Positioned protectively by their side, Vlad looked somewhat bemused. This surprised Jason. Vlad was usually as cool as an iceman, rarely ruffled by any of the strange occurrences they encountered in their line of work. His composure was the stuff of legend, as well as ire, among the team at Sundown.

  The guy never lost his cool.

  It was just plain eerie and would have been downright spooky if one fact were missing from the equation. Vlad Maksimovitch, owner of Sundown, was also a very old, very powerful vampire. Jason figured that being undead for so long just had a way of calming a guy.

  Nevertheless, seeing Vlad slightly confused gave Jason a small measure of satisfaction.

  “Good to see you, Jason. I’m sure you recognize Mr. and Mrs. Vanderhoss. They’re here to acquire our services. And after speaking with them, I believe you would be the right one to handle this case. Why don’t we take them into one of the conference rooms so that we can talk privately?”

  Jason gave a curt nod of his head. “Of course. Please follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderhoss.”

  As Jason put his bow away and led the couple into a conference room, he was suddenly glad his boss had bought this new building and decked it out to the fullest extent. The plush carpet, understated artwork on the walls and highly polished wood and leather furnishings gave the office a very professional, very successful and very competent air.

  Normally he didn’t care what others thought but this was no ordinary couple. The Vanderhoss family had played a large part in the history and progress of Arizona. They ranked right up there beside the local Goldwaters and Wrigleys. Their contributions were renowned and respected by residents of the state.

  And the Vanderhoss family continued to contribute time, money and family members to that endeavor today. Hills, parks, streets and even towns had been named after these folks, and the fact that they chose Sundown with their safety made Jason want to do all he could to help them and gain their confidence.

  If a nice office helped do that, so be it.

  Vlad stopped Malcolm from entering the room with them. He touched the fairy’s shoulder lightly then shook his head silently when Malcolm met his gaze. Looking toward Jason, Malcolm shrugged his shoulder and smirked at his friend in a way that said, “Well, I tried.”

  Jason shook his head and grinned good-naturedly before entering the conference room. Malcolm had a hard time being left out of the loop. Even if the loop was none of his business. The fairy always wanted to know what was going on with everyone else’s cases.

  Quietly shutting the door in Malcolm’s face, Vlad turned toward the elderly couple with a professional, competent smile. The slight confusion he’d shown earlier was all but gone as he poured Mr. and Mrs. V
anderhoss two glasses of ice water and sat down at one end of the long, polished meeting table. Jason poured himself some water and sat down at the other end of the table.

  “Jason, the Vanderhosses have a family situation. This situation must be kept as quiet as possible, news of it could endanger their family, particularly their granddaughter Rebecca.”

  “Rebecca? Rebecca Vanderhoss?” Jason racked his mind as he tried to remember why that name was so familiar. Where had he heard or read about her recently? The memory was just there at the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite bring it up.

  “Yes, their granddaughter Rebecca has been the victim of a very violent attack. As a result of the trauma she fell into a coma and then came out of it a few days later. After that she woke up in the hospital a couple times, but wasn’t very responsive. In addition, her response when she did wake up led the doctors to conclude that Rebecca has amnesia. She has no recollection of what happened, who she is or who her family is.”

  “What does that have to do with Sundown Security?” Jason asked. As usual, he wanted to get to the point of the conversation, develop a plan and move forward. That was just the way he operated. The in-between waffling and debating held no interest for him.

  There was a problem.

  He could help solve it.

  That’s what mattered.

  “Jason, the Vanderhosses’ niece was attacked, they believe, for two reasons. One is her family’s prominent and very public place in the local community and the second is her growing popularity as the host of the local inspirational talk show Are My Lights On? ,” Vlad explained.

  The light bulb went on in Jason’s head as he recalled where he had heard Rebecca’s name before. He had read an article and seen a promotional commercial for her local talk show. The popularity of it was growing so quickly that many predicted it would become a syndicated national show in the very near future. The article had said Rebecca’s show inspired watchers, helped them better themselves and their lives and made them take responsibility for their own actions. He even recalled that Rebecca and Oprah had been mentioned in the same sentence.

  “The kind of growing power and popularity your daughter and her show are experiencing could threaten a lot of people,” Jason noted.

  The couple nodded their heads in agreement.

  “We feel this was the cause of the attack, Jason. The worst part of it is that the perpetrator was never caught. And because Rebecca was so near death by the time she was found, we know her attacker meant to kill her. Something or someone interrupted him before he could finish the job but we fear he will try to get to our granddaughter again.”

  Jason recalled Rebecca’s face from the commercial he had seen. She had looked young, fresh-faced and excited about life. The thought of someone trying to crush her and her spirit got to him. It rubbed him the wrong way. Her smile came to mind. He remembered she had smiled as she spoke about her upcoming show. The way her mouth curved into a full-toothed grin, complete with dimples, had made him want to return her smile. She reminded him of light and laughter. Two things he had very little of in his dark and serious life. He sometimes laughed and joked at work, his dark and dry wit providing his coworkers a good laugh, but that wasn’t who he really was.

  Jason thought about a poem he had once read as a child while sitting in his mother’s library. Shaina loved to read and she had more books in her home than some public libraries he had seen. That particular poem by Stevie Smith was called “Drowning, Not Waving”. It was about a man who lived a life of quiet desperation, loneliness and despair while everyone around him thought he was a happy jokester. He slowly died from the sadness, trying to alert those around him to his pain, but they never saw it coming and couldn’t understand what happened. Jason had felt drawn to this poem, reading it again and again. He understood that his life was very much like that of the person in the poem. His life of darkness and despair was hidden in the jokes and stone.

  He sensed that Rebecca was the opposite of him. Maybe it was just television promotion but she had seemed genuine in her bright, bubbly nature. He got the impression from the few times he had seen her on TV that she was just what she appeared to be. The kind of woman a man could love and laugh with. The kind of woman he could be himself with.

  Jason shook his head to clear it. What was he thinking? He was on the job and this couple was depending on him to protect their daughter, not fantasize about her. Besides, he knew nothing good would come from that. They each came from very different worlds, both literally and figuratively. And besides all that, he was destined not to mate.

  Ever.

  “So you’re concerned your granddaughter will be attacked again?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Mr. Vanderhoss answered. “We want her protected until her attacker is found.”

  “No offense, Mr. Vanderhoss, but with the kind of money you and your family have, providing around-the-clock security at one of your estates while your daughter recuperates would be quite easy for you. Why come to Sundown?”

  Mr. and Mrs. Vanderhoss’ expressions became pained. They slowly slid their gazes to one another for comfort. Seeing the two of them together, leaning on each other for support, made him wonder just what kind of relationship they had. He could tell they were holding hands under the table as they looked at each other, gaining strength from the contact, and knew without a doubt that they were life mates. If he had been destined to share his life with someone, he would want to be exactly like the Vanderhoss couple. Life mates, truly connected, truly in love and truly willing to give of themselves for each other.

  Gargoyles were meant to have only one mate in life. That life mate was destined from birth, just as a gargoyle’s Chailo was determined then. Although one wasn’t told who that life mate was, the Visara gave the baby’s parents signs to watch for. Those signs were written down along with the Chailo and held until the child had their maturity ceremony. After the ceremony the parents would normally take their child aside and privately talk with him or her about what had been written.

  Jason had never been given those signs. His didn’t learn this until the day of his maturity ceremony. After the ceremony his mother had assured him that the Visara could not see everything, and that the shaman hadn’t actually forseen him never having a mate. Jason had a hard time coming to terms with the possibility that he might not ever find a soul mate.

  “Our Visara has told you what he can but he can not always see everything the future holds,” his mother explained. “Remember he wrote that you must look for her in a place you might not expect, a place different from our own. Just remember, you have to be the one to take down the veil, to see beyond it so you can find her. You cannot let the veil of your heritage get in the way.”

  Jason had wanted to believe his mother but something inside him died that day. And when he grew to adulthood he sought out only those females whom he would not need to commit to. But it was times like this, when he saw mates truly connected to each other, that his heart ached for much more.

  Jason was so caught up in his thoughts he almost didn’t hear Mrs. Vanderhoss answer his question.

  “Rebecca won’t be coming home right away, Jason. On several doctors’ recommendations, and due to the violent nature of the attack, we’ve been instructed to allow our granddaughter time to regain her memory in a protected, isolated and controlled setting, without any outside influence to cause further stress or depression. She was sedated much of the time in the hospital but now that she’s physically healing she’s been transported to another facility while her mind heals.”

  “Where was she transported to?” Jason asked.

  “She’s staying at the Scottsdale Behavioral Health Facility.”

  “Why is she there?” Jason tried to imagine the bright-eyed, bubbly woman on the TV alone without her memory in the cold, sterile setting of a mental health insitution and just couldn’t reconcile the two images.

  “She needs the opportunity to remember who she is on her own,
in a gradual way. Being a local celebrity with a family like ours isn’t conducive to that. She won’t have any exposure to the outside world while there and for now…” Mrs. Vanderhoss paused for a moment. Jason could tell she was trying to regain her composure. Tears formed in her eyes but she quickly wiped them away.

  “For now our granddaughter is allowed no contact with her past, until she regains her memory. And that past includes us, her family. We were firmly instructed not to contact her directly. The only access we have to her is through the staff and doctors at the facility.”

  “I understand,” Jason said. “But that still doesn’t answer my question. If she’s under a doctor’s care at a privately funded behavioral health center known for excellent security, why the worry over added protection?”

  Mr. Vanderhoss placed a hand gently on his wife’s shoulder and spoke.

  “Jason, our granddaughter is very special. She is a witch, descended from a long line of well respected, powerful witches. That’s why we had to keep her sedated and carefully monitored while in the hospital. In her unstable state of mind, we weren’t sure what she might do,” he explained. “But our granddaughter is also very protected and sheltered. She knows very little about the paranormal community around us, and has only lightly delved into her own craft. She was under our protective watch when she was initially attacked. That wasn’t enough. Somehow whoever attacked her got through not only front line police protection but also our family’s extensive security network. I won’t take any more chances with her life. A select group of doctors and caregivers at the facility are very aware of and in fact, er, specialize in my daughter’s special needs. I’m confident that specialized staff will be sensitive to her situation. But as an added precaution I want to know that someone who is aware of my granddaughter’s abilities will be close enough to Rebecca, right by her side, to protect her with their life, if necessary. And traditional law enforcement already proved they can’t handle this. That is why we haven’t allowed the police further contact with our granddaughter, and why we contacted Vlad. We have heard many good things about Sundown Security, including the lengths that the specialists will go to protect their charges. Is that correct, Vlad?”