Watcher in the Darkness, Book 3: Imprisoned

Chapter 22

I don't really remember the rest of that day. I have flashes of memory, like high-definition photos, but they are separated by wide gaps of emptiness. Over the years, Michael has tried to fill in those blanks as best he can, but since he still has nightmares, I try not to bring it up.

Flash. I'm in Michael's office and we're not alone. I don't recognize the two vampires that stand in the room with us, but they're the thick, bodybuilder type. They're as broad as trees, and loom a head taller than me. I shake hands with the somewhat larger of the men, something I've done maybe a handful of times in my entire life. His catcher's mitt of a palm feels weird, like I'm a small child greeting an adult.

According to Michael, I shook hands with both of them as he made introductions. "Tobias, this is—" Oh, fuck puppets. I can never remember those guys' names. I guess it doesn't really matter. "Charlie. And this is Keith. Keith and Charlie came to us about a month ago, while you were still in lockup. They were turned without the permission of Governess Morgan, to be used in illegal gladiatorial matches. Their progenitor was convicted, and his assets were seized by the High Court. Keith and Charlie were found to be innocent of any wrongdoing, but they are effectively disavowed."

"Nice to meet you, mate." I have no idea why Charlie has an Australian accent in this story. Michael never led me to believe this was the case, but whatever.

"They had to learn to fight to survive, but these men are both champions. They lasted in those pits for decades. Considering what we're up against, we need all the help we can get."

Flash. The four of us are walking down a steep, circular staircase. Michael leads the way, while Keith and Charlie follow behind us. I look back at the vampires, who are as ominous as the echo of dripping water.

I had no idea this place existed, or how we got there, but the conversation that led up to this scene played out like this:

"I've found Justine's den," I admitted to Michael, with all of the enthusiasm of a confession. "If she's not already there, we can use it to track her. It's down in the sewers, though, so we'll have to wait until nightfall to make our move, if we're going to bring these two along." I wasn't excited to have Keith and Charlie with us, but I seemed to grudgingly accept it.

"That actually won't be an issue," Michael said. "There's a secret entrance to the sewers through the cellars that only I know about. Well, up until now. During prohibition, the monastery was a front for organized crime. They used the tunnels to smuggle alcohol in and out of the city."

I don't know if the four of us made small talk on our way down to the cellars, or if we walked in bleak silence. I know at some point, I asked Michael, "Why did you let me back in?"

"Karen called a couple days after you left and explained your condition. I apologize for not recognizing it myself, but I have very limited experience with possession. I never imagined it was possible for someone like you to become possessed."

Rather than be embarrassed that Michael had thrown my business out there like that, I said, "You talked to Karen? How did she sound? Is she alright?"

"She sounded well, in good health. Much better than the last time I saw her."

"Did you ask her where she was? Did you tell her she needed to go home?"

"No. She hung up before I got the chance to do either."

Flash. A heavy door, like the entrance to a bank vault, rolls to the side, and I can hear running water. Beyond the door, lances of sunlight from manhole covers and storm drains cut through the gloom of the sewer. I say, "Follow me."