21 Shades of Night, page 399
ANDERSON, Neil Timothy
Birth: 22 June 1954
Death: N/A
Discovery: 1 October 1968
Last Known Location: Gleason, Tennessee, United States
Ability: Telepath (Reader)
Physical Description: Approximately 170 centimeters at recording date. Slender build. Blond hair, green eyes.
Notes: Anderson is a normal-range telepath. He is able to receive and communicate thoughts to a single recipient, but cannot read thoughts from many at a single time. He can hear the thoughts of all humans, including paranormal, but his ability does not extend to supernatural beings. His use in the Court is limited due to limitations of ability and location.
Recorded By: Liam Elridge
Recording Date: Orig: 3 October 1968, Transcribed to Current Edition: 14 May 1971
* * *
I FLIPPED THROUGH the book, but none of the other names were familiar to me. Liam Elridge had written all of the entries and I couldn't ignore the strange feeling in my stomach every time I saw the name. Ben's father.
A lifetime of unfettered access to this room couldn't answer all of my questions.
I returned the book to the shelf and grabbed the next several volumes. At the very least, I understood now why Sorrell had sent me here. I found what I was looking for not long after, on the fiftieth page of the volume labeled 1975-1980.
STUART, Edward Mathieu
Birth: 8 August 1956
Death: N/A
Discovery: 13 November 1977
Last Known Location: New York City, New York, United States
Ability: Seer (Watcher)
Physical Description: Approximately 183 centimeters at recording date. Average build. Black hair, brown eyes. Requires eyeglasses.
Notes: Stuart is an extraordinarily gifted telepath. He was discovered during an attempt at conning three young men into betting against a baseball game. His victims caught wind of the scam and were planning to kill him. An associate of the Court discovered the men in a back alley in Harlem and captured Stuart for the Prince. He is able to perceive events in the distant future or in the next few moments. His ability is not limited to humans. Stuart gained the favor of the Court by accurately forecasting a deception by one of the underling vampires from Connecticut. (Addendum to orig. record - LHE, 3 Dec 1977) His use in the Court is highly flexible and his assignment is directly to Prince Sorrell.
Recorded By: Liam Elridge
Recording Date: Orig: 18 November 1977, Transcribed to Current Edition: 29 January 1982
* * *
I PORED THROUGH it over and over, as if each additional reread would yield more information. My little memory blip over the word watcher made sense; Harding had tried to explain to me what it was, had told me about Emma Hayes' sister. Maybe it had been his way of trying to tell me more. I closed my eyes as tears threatened to spill over. What else didn't I know? What had he kept from us? The questions overwhelmed me as I stared at his dossier and I closed the journal with a sharp snap.
Several minutes passed as I let it all sink in. There was more I would need to know in the coming days, questions that would have to be answered by someone, but the time was not now. I needed to gather what I could before my time in the library ran out. I set my father's volume aside and returned to the shelf.
1990 - 1995.
1995 - 2000.
2000 - 2005.
2005 – 2010.
Current Record.
Harding's page was easy enough to locate in the 2000 - 2005 record and I took brief solace in the fact that I found Ben's name nowhere in Sorrell's ledgers. As I narrowed my focus to the final volume, I wondered what I would find. The pages inside were chronological rather than alphabetical. I located an entry for Nathan Carter near the end, written in a stark hand by Patrick Elridge, Ben's older brother. He had been labeled a Pusher. According to the book, he could control the actions of those around him. It explained so much about how he had been able to handle Sam and Mia and the others. So many lives could be affected by these strange powers. It was no wonder someone felt the need to keep a record. I wanted to know more about Carter, but I knew I would likely not see anymore. The record had been updated recently and matched the date of his death:
29 July 2011
It was a short entry, as if just those numbers could convey all that had happened that day. It wasn't just the day he'd died. It was the day my world had turned upside down.
There was a final page in the book and I flipped to it with growing disinterest. My mind was overwhelmed and I could feel my body shutting down already. My hour was nearly up. It was almost time to go home.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I would find on that last page.
STUART, Alexandrie Rose
Birth: 1 May 1981
Death:
Discovery: 6 June 2011
Last Known Location: Park Falls, New York, United States
Ability: Yet Unknown.
Physical Description: Approximately 160 centimeters at recording date. Average build. Dark brown hair, blue eyes.
Notes: Stuart’s father is a former trusted advisor of this court. Her genetic tendencies are as of yet unknown. Subject number 21. Given regimen of trial drug to amplify any natural abilities.
Recorded By: Patrick Elridge
Recording Date: 31 July 2011
Chapter 36
DANIEL AND I reached my house a few hours later, but I had yet to come out of the daze. The words on the page scrolled across the backs of my eyelids every time I closed my eyes, but no amount of consideration would answer my questions. Subject no. 21? Genetic tendencies?
More answers given, more mysteries revealed.
I sighed and looked at my house as the car came to a stop. What a normal-seeming thing. A house. Some trees. Was there really such a thing as normal? Could there be, after all I’d seen and learn? As I climbed out of the red coupe, I was surprised to see Daniel stepping around the car to meet me. He held out a set of keys.
"This is a replacement. Your other vehicle was damaged beyond repair by Carter's stunt."
I stared at the keys in his hand and looked back at the coupe. "Carter wrecked my Honda. It was ten years old, had a rusted front fender and smelled like a ketchup packet. How exactly is a Mercedes a replacement for that?"
Daniel shrugged, but I didn't miss the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. "There are no Honda dealers open after nightfall."
"I can't accept this." It felt like a bribe, or hush money. How could I ever explain it? How could I even afford to insure it?
"There is an American saying: Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." He took my hand and folded the keys into my palm. "We'll be in touch."
I shook my head. "But how will you get home?"
"I am not leaving. Sorrell has ordered me to guard the property." Daniel bowed and slipped away, disappearing into the darkness past the corner of the garage.
I stared out into the yard, still dazed to find myself at home. So much had happened since I'd last been here; it astounded me to see that it was exactly as I had left it. The back porch still needed a fresh coat of paint and I needed to clear the weeds from the flowerbeds again. How...normal. Vampires lived in a world where garage doors jammed shut. Watchers existed in a place where cobwebs sprouted in the eaves of an old roof.
My eyes scanned over the garage and my mind flitted over those journals I'd seen at Sorrell's. They had seemed familiar. Dread poked holes in the haze of my thoughts as I crossed the few yards between the car and the old building.
Tucked high on a dusty shelf, partially covered by a few canvas drop cloths and a used paint tray, I found the old journal that I'd come across earlier that summer. I slid it down and brushed away a thin layer of grime. It was the same kind of book that had been in Sorrell’s library.
The jumbled words still didn't make sense and I wondered if they ever would. Frowning, I tucked it under my arm and went back to the house. There would be time later for consideration. Now was the time for sleep.
There were lights on in my kitchen and I flicked my gaze out to the driveway again. How could I have not noticed before? Harding's car was parked ten yards from the house. Lights in the kitchen. Cars in the driveway.
Not time for sleep after all.
My guests were seated at the kitchen table and of the three of them there, I was most relieved to see Laura. Ben and Harding sat facing each other, wearing identical stony looks. Laura, pale and small-looking in the dim light from over the stove, sat next to Harding. They were silent and still, moving only after I closed the door behind me.
"Thank god." Laura's voice even sounded thin in the quiet house.
I managed a smile. "I wish I could say the same, but I was really hoping to fall into bed and sleep until someone could prove that vampires didn't exist."
Ben blushed and looked down at the table. "We needed to know you got here safe. We all did."
"Daniel once made it from New York to Philadelphia in under an hour. We figured it was important to be here to scrape you out of the front seat." Harding gave me a small smile, but I couldn't return it.
Nothing was funny or light under the circumstances. There were no jokes that Ben or Harding could make right now that would make me forget what I'd seen. The room felt smaller than usual as I looked at the three of them.
"Listen, I appreciate that you're all worried about me, but I need some space. I need some time to myself." I couldn't even bring myself to manage worry at Laura's appearance. Sorrell had assured me she'd be fine. That was enough. For now.
Laura rose from the table and crossed the distance between us. She put her hands on my arms and gave me a small nod. "Call me when you're ready."
It was what I needed to hear. Harding followed her out the door, giving me only a glance before shutting it behind him. I watched through the window as they walked down the steps before turning to face Ben.
"There's a lot to talk about," I said, trying to figure out what I needed to say to him. "But I don't even know where to start."
"I'm not leaving." He stood and walked over to me. "There's nothing in the world that would make me leave you in this house alone. I'll sleep wherever you want me to, I don't care if it's the couch or the bathtub, but I'm not leaving."
His words sent a shiver through me and I couldn't deny the comfort they brought me. I had no way of knowing now if I was truly safe, no way of knowing what waited in the woods for just the right moment...I shook the thoughts away. "Whatever you need to do."
He reached across the distance between us and laced his fingers through mine. "I know this will take time. We have a lot to work through."
I looked down at our linked fingers. There was warmth in his touch, and I didn't know until that moment how much I'd missed it. I blinked back the tears that welled in my eyes. "We'll figure it out."
He leaned his head down and kissed the tips of my fingers. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you earlier. I need to figure out how to...be there."
I stepped back from him, clinging to the last shreds of my resolve. I trusted that we could work through this, but I needed some time to myself to process what had happened. I craved silence and peace just as much as I craved his touch and his lips. I needed to know that everything was okay, that everything would be okay, but for once, I needed that answer to come from my own mind. "We'll talk in the morning."
* * *
SLEEP ELUDED ME, no matter how badly I needed it. I lay across my bed two hours later, staring down at the strange scramble of words strewn across the pages of the old journal. I knew now, though I couldn't explain why, that it had belonged to my father. The handwriting had grown familiar as I'd looked it over, and I was slowly beginning to pick out patterns. I flicked my gaze to the latest Google search I'd run, trying to further narrow my options. I was sure now, after looking again and again at that pattern, that he'd used a four-square cipher as the basis of his code, but I couldn't figure out the passwords.
Frustrated, I slammed the lid of my laptop shut and tossed the book onto my nightstand. I'd barely known my father. Seven years wasn't long enough to know a father. He'd liked baseball and my grandmother's cooking. He'd been the only person to call my mother Rosie. I'd always thought he was some kind of business consultant, that it was his work with companies across the country that kept him away from home so long. He'd loved to tease me and reveled in reading me books far beyond the comprehension of the average kid.
I closed my eyes, trying to picture him in my head. Was there something that marked him as different? He was a Watcher. He could see the future. Had he known all along that he'd leave my mother? Had he known all the pain our family would experience over the years? Had he watched my sister Ava die, years before it happened?
The night after she had died, when he'd brought me home from the hospital and my mother had stayed behind, he'd tucked me into bed with a single teddy bear named Kissy and a blanket that looked like ocean waves. He'd sat next to me, wiping the tears from my face and brushing my hair off my forehead.
"She was our little bird, Allie girl, and it was time for her to fly away."
I'd closed my eyes and nestled my face into that old bear. "Will mama always be so sad?"
He'd stared at me for a long time before answering. "We spent hours before you were born picking out your name. You were a strong girl, even before we knew you. Your mom used to tell me how stubborn you were. We wanted you and another child, so you would never be lonely, and we knew what it meant to be a big sister. You would be a defender and a caretaker. And so you were Alexandrie." He tucked the covers around me again, even though I didn't need it. "You'll take care of your mama, and you'll stand up for what's right, always. No matter what happens, in the end, everything will be okay, baby girl. You'll make sure of it."
I stayed in that memory as long as I could, filling in the blanks that had appeared over the years. His hair was always neat and his cheeks were always clean-shaven, but other elements of his face had started to drift away from me.
When I opened my eyes, I pulled the book back over to me, not caring as the tears dripped down my nose and stained the page. Taking up a pen, I scribbled the words on the blank page at the back of the book, knowing the answer without needing to confirm it. His logic was simple, clean. Familiar to him, but backwards, so as not to draw the eyes of others. A different language and a neat, four-square cipher. Well hidden, in plain sight, just like the world he’d worked in for so long.
Alexandrie = EIRDNAXELA
The defender of men.
L'Oiseua = AUESIOL
Ava.
The bird.
His words washed over me again–“In the end, everything will be okay”–and a calm that I hadn't felt in weeks settled over me. I closed his journal again. Further decoding his cipher could wait until tomorrow, but there was something that could not. I closed the book and ran my fingers over its spine. It seemed so inconsequential. A leather-bound journal full of random scrawls. I moved to tuck the book into my bedside table and noticed a little gap between the last page and the back cover of the book. I flipped it open to the page and traced my fingers over the back panel. There was a small break in the cardboard, where it was glued to the leather. I ran a fingernail along the seam, and tucked inside, found a single sheet of paper, folded in half and sealed with wax.
My name was scrawled across the top of it, and I froze. It was the same handwriting as in the rest of the book. Hands shaking, I broke the seal and opened the letter.
My darling girl,
I'm taking a great risk leaving you this letter, but if this book falls into the wrong hands, the contents of this page will be your least worry. There is so much I have kept from you, more than this or any other book could hold, and I doubt I will ever have the chance to tell you. I wish there was more time to fill in the blanks, but I know that if you're reading this, that you also know who I am and what I am capable of. I have seen what may happen, and I know that this is the most trying time of your life so far. Though I do not know them personally, there are two men around you who will fight to keep you safe. Trust them and yourself to know what is right. If you ever require assistance, reach out to a man named Ernie Haden. He may be the only other person you can trust. If you've found this journal and understand its contents, there is one more vital thing you need to know.
Shortly after you were born, I saw a vision of you, many years away. You were powerful in your own right, and hunted after for what you could do. If there was ever anything I've wished for most, it was that the sorts of things that have tainted my life would never touch yours. My dear friend has helped me in this, has provided a way to keep your abilities subdued, but I doubt it will last your entire life. My only hope is that by delaying the onset of your abilities, your life path will have changed enough to lead you in another direction.
Our abilities are not always passed on, but when they are, they usually manifest differently in each person. I have great reason to believe that your own abilities are beginning to surface. Do not shy away from them. Do not be afraid to learn what you are capable of. It may be the only thing that saves your life. Trust what your eyes tell you. The colors you see tell you the truth about the people you meet.
I love you, forever, always and in the ways I see.
-Papa
I read it twice, three times, and I still couldn't slow my beating heart. His words were haunting and the proof of his ability was even more unsettling than anything I'd seen Harding do. The little flickers and flashes, bursts and stars... it wasn't migraines. It wasn't even my imagination. I would need to dig deeper, find out what it meant. I had so many questions to ask of a man I barely remembered. I folded the letter and slid it back into its hiding spot. In the coming days, I would finish deciphering my father's words and try to find more meaning in his letter. Maybe even track down this Ernie person. But in that moment, I knew I had reached absolute capacity for discovering new information. I could find out more tomorrow. Whatever ability he thought I had, it certainly wasn't manifesting itself at three a.m.
