The Blood Eagle In The Big Easy Part 13

Knowing better than to press my luck I thought I had better change the subject. "It had been so long since our last meeting I thought you might have slumbered like so many of the others."

Hustahli shook his head as he spoke. "I thought about sleeping long ago but things have changed and so have I."

"I can see that." I was more than a little amused by his attire but thought I should compliment him instead of antagonizing my recent savior from the wraith. "You found a change of clothes since we last met."

He looked down at himself and then back at me. "One has to keep up with the times. Something I learned from you actually." He leaned back in the chair as it groaned under his weight yet somehow didn't splinter into a thousand pieces. "I have traveled far and wide while you have stood guard over my lands. I've learned much as I watched you grow. You will soon need to claim lands of your own and make your own way in this world."

"I don't think I understand what you mean just yet, but I do what I can." He always confused me when he spoke of me becoming a guardian. I was far from qualified for the job and it was only recently that I had learned of my birth as the Starborn which I still didn't fully understand. "Trying to follow your example there was much to be done, and I would hate to leave a job only half complete."

Hustahli chuckled as a devious smile crossed his face. "If that is the way you see it I may never be rid of you." He spread his hands wide as he looked around us. "You know as well as I that this land calls to the darkness." Leaning forward he rested his elbows on the table without flipping it over from his sheer bulk, which was an impressive feat if you ask me. "For many seasons I stood guard against the darkness alone. You have eased my burden and for that I thank you."

Blood rushed to my cheeks as I felt more than a little embarra.s.sed for doing the right thing. "It is the least I could do since you saved my life so long ago and it would seem you did so again today."

Hustahli shrugged this time as he spoke. "It was nothing really. I was just paying an old friend a visit."

"Convenient timing. Not that I mind at all. I am just saying."

Gregory stammered. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Gregory Aaron."

Hustahli and I both looked over at Gregory in amus.e.m.e.nt. "He's a good friend, but a little slow some days. Its not every day he gets to meet someone of your stature."

Hustahli gave Gregory a look as his smile grew. "The pleasure is mine Gregory Aaron, I am Hustahli the guardian of this land." Curiosity grew in him as he asked. "Did you even know what a Impa s.h.i.+lup was before today?"

"A what?" Gregory asked puzzled.

"I believe Viktor calls them wraiths but we called them the Impa s.h.i.+lup or soul eaters." Waving a hand in my direction dismissively. "They are very dangerous and nearly immortal. I suppose that particular soul eater will get a chance to meet its maker." Hustahli was clearly impressed with Gregory.

"Think you could put a few bad words in with the wraith's maker?" I have found that it never hurts to ask. The worst they can say is no, right?

Hustahli smirked as he raised an eyebrow in my direction. "That's a.s.suming I know them."

"You know everyone."

"I had no idea that such things even existed till a few minutes ago." Gregory blurted out, his voice full of wonder as he spoke.

Hustahli turned his attention back to me. "There is much to discuss but now is not the time." Hustahli pointed toward the highway. "Many of Mr. Aaron's men are fast approaching." Standing he turned to leave but stopped suddenly. "Viktor, call for me when you are free of this Gullveig mess." He simply bowed and walked toward the barn.

The wind blew through the trees gently and he was gone. Not a sound or something fading away, but just gone. I always found it very disconcerting. Gregory and I stood and walked out to meet his support team. He looked at me nervously and I shook my head slightly, indicating that we would talk about it later. Several SUV's and vans pulled up with the SOG to secure the scene as well as the CSI unit to process the evidence. It was going to be a long afternoon. I walked back to the truck and pulled it behind the others and waited.

Chapter 18.

Gregory and one of his deputy's made their way out of the house about twenty minutes later. The man following Gregory was nearly the same height though considerably thinner, with mussy light brown hair and a slight stutter to his gait which just came off as cool. While he wasn't what most would consider cla.s.sically handsome something about the whole package made it work even when it shouldn't. Even at a distance he gave off an air of likeability that made up for his c.o.c.ksure att.i.tude. As they got closer the deputy pulled an evidence bag from his back pocket as he gave me one of those *you know what I'm about to ask for' looks.

It didn't take a genius to figure it out, I pulled my weapon from its holster and ejected the clip before clearing the chamber, ensuring it was empty. The man simply smiled at me as he opened the bag. Dropping it casually in the bag I asked. "Make sure I get a receipt for that will you?"

Gregory seemed to relax slightly at the sight of my weapon in the bag. "Deputy Jones will ensure its safe return after we process the scene."

Jones quickly handed me a receipt as he stepped to the side to fill out some paperwork before sealing the bag.

"Thanks." Luckily for me I had several other weapons to use in the meantime. Governmental ent.i.ties are not exactly known for their expedited services.

Deputy Jones gave me a nod as he sealed the bag. "I'm guessing you have another handy?" Unsure of what he was implying I sort of shrugged at him. "If you need a loaner until you get back to the office I have a backup you can borrow."

"Awfully kind of you but I'm good." Jones eyed me appraisingly before nodding and taking his leave. Marching back to the other members of the SOG he quickly issued several commands breaking them into three man teams to sweep the property.

Gregory turned to ensure that his men were heading off to fulfill their duties. Turning back to me he shrugged helplessly. "They seem to think there is still a suspect on the grounds to capture." His baffled expression told me he hadn't known what to tell them about the broken window and the freshly tilled earth from the wraith's. "When they were asking what happened I didn't know how to answer so they're working under the a.s.sumption I'm suffering from some sort of shock."

"Are you?"

"h.e.l.l no!" His face twisted in a mixture of anger and fear as he turned away. "How the h.e.l.l am I supposed to tell them about the wraith?"

"I don't know but your deputy there seems to know more than he is letting on. What's his story anyway?"

"As you can see he is the Team Leader for the SOG task force here in Louisiana as well as my second in command. He has a reputation for shooting first and asking questions later." Gregory leaned back against the truck and watched the last of the SOG disappear into the rotting forest. "After being transferred from one a.s.signment to the next, he finally seemed to flourish here in New Orleans." A sense of pride filled his voice. "He's a decent guy and I'm glad he is finally living up to his potential."

"He does seem like a good guy." I was still concerned about what they might find during their search of the woods. My head told me that I shouldn't be, but there was still a part of me that feared the wraith hadn't fully departed. "We should probably pull Jones aside and tell him the truth about what's going on with this case before someone gets hurt."

Gregory considered it for a moment before nodding in agreement. "We'll need to find a quiet place and see how he handles the news." He eyed me closely. "Think you could give him a demonstration like the one you gave me?"

Shaking the thought of wraiths running wild in Acadiana I returned my focus to the conversation at hand. "When the time comes I will make sure he understands."

I watched as Gregory kept a careful eye out for any trouble as he pondered the days events. "Any chance you can help me understand before then?"

"I can try. Where would you like to start?"

His voice was uncertain as he spoke. "Last things first, I suppose. Who was that Indian guy? I mean, I felt like I was in the presence of a G.o.d."

"h.e.l.l of a place to start!" Pus.h.i.+ng myself off the car I paced for a moment while I thought best how to answer his question. "I don't think he is a G.o.d with a capital *G' or anything like that, but one can never be sure." Already the conversation wasn't going as well as I had hoped. Its like trying to explain to someone not from our time how a television works. The science and required technology is all there, and for the everyday average Joe it just works. Same principles apply here. There is a science to it, and a whole set of conditions that allow someone like Hustahli to exist, but for people like myself he simply existed as a fact of life. The science part of it was beyond me and therefore almost impossible to explain. "He is more of the spirit of the land."

"What the h.e.l.l does that mean?" Gregory asked befuddled.

That made me laugh! Checking around to make sure we were alone, I tried to explain to him what I knew, or at least thought I understood, which apparently wasn't very much. The world is divided into territories, huge tracts of land and sea each governed by a protector. These protectors, while most are benevolent, can be extremely hard to get along with. I suppose that was a nice way of saying they would try to kill you the first chance they had. Fortunately for me Hustahli was one of the benevolent ones. His territory now included most of North America, while only a few hundred years ago it had only been the area once known as the Louisiana Purchase. When I arrived in the New World, as it was called then, I stumbled across a wraith that nearly killed me and it was only by Hustahi's intervention that I survived the ordeal. As payment for his kindness I was indebted to him for the next century to serve as protector of the land.

Gregory had questions but held his peace as I continued to try and explain what I knew. The great spirits around the world were numerous, and at one time a.s.sisted man in living in harmony with the world around them. As man grew in their own self importance many of the great spirits simply grew tired and found places to rest where they would not be disturbed. Others, like Hustahli, doubled their efforts to try and keep the land safe. Without these beings things like the wraith would be commonplace in our world. Their evil would corrupt the land and send us into famine and other horrible natural disasters. Sometimes these G.o.dlike ent.i.ties become overtaxed and things like Hurricane Katrina happen.

They are incredibly powerful beings who look out for our well being, so it is in our best interest to keep them happy when they decide they like us. p.i.s.sing them off could be akin to having the worst possible scenario play out in a natural disaster. One such spirit became angered during the Middle Ages and the bubonic plague spread across Europe like wildfire. Such is the power they wield and when provoked their anger knows no limits.

The wraith are minor ent.i.ties who perverse the land they encounter. When you come across a place that gives you a bad vibe, like something is rotten to the core, you can be a.s.sured a wraith or something like it lives there. Wraiths are solitary creatures that rarely come out in the daylight and are so confident in their killing skills rarely hunt in packs. The fact that we encountered so many together in one place probably meant that they were getting their orders from someone higher up the food chain, someone powerful enough to force them to work in unison. It seemed obvious that someone wanted to make sure we died here today. I had my doubts that Gullveig had that type of clout. She was a powerful being herself but not powerful enough to control the wraith. This was something different and entirely more dangerous, but for now I had to put aside the thought of who might be controlling the wraith as we had a known danger to contend with.

Since Deputy Jones obviously hadn't made the same offer of lending a gun to Gregory as he had to me I lent him a gun that I kept in the glove compartment. It was about an hour later that Jones informed us that the bedroom where we found Creepy George was cataloged and the body was being moved for transport back to the morgue. Gregory and I headed inside to be briefed on the situation. As we entered the kitchen I recognized the man who greeted us, who was much too thin for his own good. His round face seemed to have a permanent smile tattooed in place as he vigorously shook Gregory's hand.

"Pete this is Viktor." Pete gave me a wry smile as he shook my hand just as vigorously.

"Good to see you again Mr. Warden." The deep base of his voice shouldn't be allowed to come out of a body that frail looking. "Our paths have crossed more than a few times over the years." Waving for us to follow, he opened the door to the first floor master bedroom. It's one of the reasons I wanted to speak with you two before proceeding."

"One of the reasons?" Gregory asked.

"I hope I haven't made your job more complicated." I said giving Pete a polite bow.

"On the contrary, it helped." He pushed aside a few pieces of the broken furniture to reveal an ancient totem. "Once I knew you were involved I started looking for crazy s.h.i.+t and this is what I found."

Gregory quickly pushed the door closed behind him as he gave Pete a stern look. "I would rather not broadcast anything that might be hinky to the rest of the men."

That got a chuckle from Pete as he smoothed back his thick gray hair before he pointed a thin digit in my direction. "You should have thought of that before they saw him." He was clearly enjoying toying with his new boss. "The men out there know Mr. Warden by reputation and those who don't are new to the team, meaning you."

Gregory was clearly perplexed by Pete's explanation. "So everyone knows there's something wrong here?"

Pete was clearly trying not to laugh as he explained the facts of life in the Big Easy. "Since you're new to the area, let me explain." He eyed Gregory to ensure he had his full attention before continuing. "New Orleans is the biggest small town you will ever encounter, which means there aren't any secrets to be had." Pete pushed away a few more pieces of broken wood, fully exposing the shrine. "While we act like we live in a prim and proper society, we don't. Everyone's dirty laundry is hanging out for everyone else to see. While we may not know specifics we know enough to get ourselves in trouble."

"I still don't know how Viktor fits into the equation."

"Mr. Warden's reputation proceeds him like a force of nature." He waved a hand in my direction as if to exemplify his point. "Anything he gets involved in personally means something extraordinary has happened." His face twisted as he fought for the words that seemed to elude him as he paced back and forth. "People like you and me are left to clean up Mr. Warden's messes, a price we gladly pay to keep our families safe." Looking at me he shrugged helplessly. "You and I hunt rapist, murderers and the like... Mr. Warden hunts monsters which make our worst nightmares pale in comparison."

Gregory's face fell as the realization struck him. "Everyone here knows about him?"

Pete's face beamed with pride that Gregory grasped the concept. "Of course! Most of us belong to the courts or in my case work for them when the occasion calls for it."

"So there was no need to fabricated anything about what happened earlier?" Gregory asked.

"Oh h.e.l.l yeah there is a reason to lie, especially when it comes to the paperwork. But if you want your team to respect you and be of use, then you should level with them about what really happened here today." Pete looked at me and smirked. "It's not like Mr. Warden be at every crime scene."

"I see..." Gregory struggled with the new information.

I thought it best to let him chew on that for a few minutes while I found out what Pete had for us."From the sounds of things Pete, you have some information for us?"

"I have a few questions first if you don't mind?" Pete looked at me tentatively as I smiled and waved him on. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

The bad news was I did know, and how I missed it earlier was out of sheer stupidity on my behalf. "Its a totem to summon a wraith."

Pete paled visibly as he started to shake. "Oh dear G.o.d you should have said something earlier. They are sitting ducks out there."

Stepping forward I put my hand on Pete's shoulder to calm him. "Take a few deep breaths everything will be fine." He pulled away from me giving me an *are you f.u.c.king crazy' look but wisely kept his mouth shut. "I was able to put one down hard enough to turn it to ash and let's just say that we had a visitor that banished the others from the area."

Pete's mouth fell open in shock at my words. "You can do that?" His concern for his fellow Marshal's vaporized nearly instantly as his mind switched gears. "I have never heard of one being killed before. Wounded maybe but killed, that's never happened before." He started rummaging through his pockets. "I need to get a sample of whatever is left."

"First things first. Tell us what happened here and I will tell you where you can find what's left of it."

His face contorted in frustration. "Fine fine fine..." He pointed at the ceiling as he spoke quickly. "The dead guy upstairs died hard." He s.h.i.+vered 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 a.s.sume 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." Pus.h.i.+ng 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 h.e.l.l." 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 partic.i.p.ated 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 s.h.i.+eld 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 b.u.mped 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 embarra.s.sed by the whole thing.

Chapter 19.

Ever had one of those conversations where you swore it tore a hole in the entire s.p.a.ce 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 b.a.l.l.s. 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 s.h.i.+fted 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.