Only the Quiet Page 9

Bub tilted his head to the side and regarded me with unblinking eyes. He reminded me of an owl. Of course, it was a giant featherless owl straight from a nightmare, but an owl all the same. “I knew them,” he said finally. “Your mother was a big fan of the library.”

  “She was?” I wished I could remember our day-to-day life. That was a big, black hole in my memory that I was desperate to fill. “What kind of books?”

  “She liked research books, but those were for daylight hours. She also liked mysteries ... and dirty romance novels she would read aloud to your father.”

  I smirked at the tidbit. “That’s kind of funny. I ... .” I trailed off, something occurring to me. “Wait a second. I was under the impression you’ve only had this job for a short time. How can you possibly know what books she liked to check out?”

  “I was stationed on Belle Isle back then,” he replied without hesitation. “I was supposed to act as a guardian statue during the day and patrol the island at night. That was before gargoyles fell completely out of use.”

  I didn’t know the history of gargoyles very well. I felt slightly guilty, as if I had perpetuated harm on Bub’s kind. “I’m sorry.”

  “You needn’t worry about it. You’re not to blame.”

  “Still, though ... did you hang out with my parents a lot?”

  He watched me with unguarded eyes that made me feel self-conscious and I shifted in my chair and pretended interest in Braden as he tried to calm an annoyed Cillian. “They should be done soon,” I offered lamely.

  “Especially because I don’t believe the information the long-haired Grimlock seeks is here,” Bub said. “Like all of them, he has a fiery temper. He needs to vent before he cedes defeat.”

  “You know them well?”

  “Better than most,” he clarified. “I know the youngest the best. She’s ... obnoxious.”

  I chuckled. “She’s tired right now. She just had a baby.”

  “I’ve heard. I remain close with the guardian gargoyle circuit. They perform rounds by Grimlock Manor and the townhouses to keep the family safe. Apparently the baby never sleeps, which means it’s sick.”

  “She’s not sick,” I said hurriedly, my eyes flashing when Braden worriedly glanced toward us. Had he heard that? I hoped not. He had enough on his plate without worrying about a sick baby. “She’s just disgruntled right now,” I added, lowering my voice. "The baby is full of anxiety because Aisling is full of anxiety. It will pass.”

  “That sounds like she’s sick.”

  “Well, she’s not sick.” I wanted to gag him ... or at least point him in another conversational direction. “She’ll be fine. In fact, before it’s all said and done she’ll be the most spoiled little girl in the land. She has five uncles who dote on her, a grandfather who believes she’ll eventually walk on water, and dedicated parents. She’ll be fine.”

  “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, I am sure of myself. I’ve seen her. She’s not sick ... just a ball of nerves.”

  “I guess I will have to defer to you then.” He turned his full attention to me as Cillian viciously swore under his breath and moved to another aisle. “You were always a nurturing child. I remember when you used to sit on the lawn outside the aquarium and put bandages on your stuffed dog.”

  “Max.” I mustered a genuine smile. “I still have him. Apparently he was a gift from Oliver, though I don’t remember that. He’s one of the few things I got to carry with me from my childhood.”

  “Oliver doted on you.”

  I stilled. “What?”

  Bub nodded. “He spent a lot of time with you. I remember the night your family fell. No one could find you right away. He went into blood-stalker mode to seek you out. When he found you hidden in the rubble, he was so relieved that he cried.

  “Vampire tears are made of blood,” he continued. “You were borderline catatonic and yet you awoke at the sight of his tears and told him everything would be okay. I remember it as if it happened yesterday. You wiped away his tears and he handed you to Brett while he returned to the rubble to find your dog. You were desperate for the dog.

  “When he finally found it, you spent hours bandaging it,” he said. “There was confusion about what you remembered. Everyone was afraid to ask what you saw. Still, the reaper council arrived and questioned you until you were exhausted. Oliver insisted you be allowed to sleep. He said he would keep you safe, take care of you.

  “They allowed it for the first night, but your grandfather arrived the next day to take you,” he explained. “Oliver was broken-hearted when they took you. He wept again, tears of blood, and you cried as you were dragged away. It was a terrible time ... but you appear to have come out of it okay.”

  I was flabbergasted by the story. “I don’t remember any of that.”

  “Probably because your mind isn’t capable of absorbing the horror. You saw something that night, more than just the death of your parents. You saw something evil cross over from the gate. It marked you, which in turn made you forget.”

  That sounded too simple. “Well, let me ask you this.” I leaned closer so my voice wouldn’t carry. “If something came through the gate that night, where did it go? Why is there no mention of it anywhere else? Did it escape? Is it still here? What happened to it?”

  Bub merely shrugged. “I have no idea. I never saw it. I don’t know that anyone did. Two gargoyles were slaughtered that night, too. They’re never brought up when the tale is told, though.”

  “I’m sorry for that. I still want to know what happened.”

  “I think everyone would like to know what happened. Those who were present to explain are gone. Well, except for one person.” His gaze was pointed when it landed on me, causing me to balk.

  “I can’t remember. I’ve tried a million times. Don’t you think I’d remember if I could?”

  “I think you will remember when it’s time,” he replied. “You simply might not be ready yet.”

  His cryptic answer set my teeth on edge. I didn’t get a chance to question him further, though, because Braden suddenly appeared and started gesturing toward the door. “Come on,” he prodded. “Cillian wants to head back to Grimlock Manor. He insists we have better books there ... and he’s totally melting down.”

  “I noticed.” I slowly got to my feet and slid a look to Bub. “We’ll talk again.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Definitely.” I was firm as I stepped toward Braden. “You know things I need to know.”

  “I don’t know nearly as much as you think I do. In fact, the only thing I know with absolute truth is that you were a big fan of Where the Wild Things Are and made your mother read it to you every night. I could hear her soothing voice through the window of your house when I made my rounds after dark.”

  My heart gave a painful roll. I’d always loved that book. “Well ... that’s something.”

  “I guess that depends on how you look at things. You know where to find me. Until then, have faith in the Grimlocks. They’re mouthy pains in the behind, but they’re loyal and lucky. They always figure things out in the end and somehow manage to stay alive. I’m not sure you can do much better than that.”

  “WHAT WERE YOU AND Bub talking about while I was helping Cillian?” Braden asked as he opened the door of his car to help me out after arriving at Grimlock Manor. He’d been largely silent during the drive, which was fine by me because I had plenty to think about. Apparently quiet time was over.

  “He ran security on Belle Isle when I was a kid,” I replied. “He remembers me ... and my parents. I asked him about the night they died, but he didn’t know what killed them.”

  “No one knows,” Braden stressed as he put his hand to the small of my back and prodded me toward the door. “I asked my father, and he swears up and down it’s a huge mystery. I checked for myself after the fact just to be sure. We don’t know what happened to your parents.”

  “Someone knows.”

  “Who?”
>
  “Me. I was there.”

  He grimaced. “I thought you couldn’t remember.”

  “I can’t, but the memories have to be in there somewhere. They’re simply locked away. I need to find a way to access them.”

  “Or you could wait until you remember on your own. I don’t know that memories are something you should try to force.”

  “Why do you care?”

  He shrugged as he held open the door for me. “Perhaps I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you. Did you ever consider that?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, you should. I will happily help you track information from that time in your life. I don’t necessarily think the memory of a traumatized seven-year-old is where you should be looking, though. There’s a reason you blacked all that out.”

  “I’m an adult now. I can handle it.”

  “If you say so.” Braden tilted his head when we reached the foyer. The normal sounds of family I expected when entering Grimlock Manor were missing and the house was unnaturally quiet.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, instantly alert. “Has something happened?”

  He slid me an amused look. “I don’t know. Let’s check, shall we?” He held out his hand for me to take. It was an easy gesture, and my initial instinct was to link my fingers with his.

  I fought the urge. We were treading on dangerous territory as it was. If I encouraged him, it would be so easy to fall ... and then, when it came time, how would I ever get up without help? I didn’t want to think about that. It was too much to bear.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets.

  He looked momentarily disappointed. He dropped his hand and inclined his head toward the west side of the house. “This way. We’re earlier than expected. I’m guessing everyone is in my father’s office.”

  I’d spent time in his father’s office the first day I’d visited the house, when my energy level was waning thanks to a wraith attack and Braden brought me here to recuperate. I hadn’t been in the office since.

  Braden didn’t bother to knock, instead throwing open the door and striding into the room. He was right about most of his family being there. Redmond sat in a chair across from his father’s desk and held a conversation with the elder Grimlock. Aidan sat in another chair. And there, at the back of the room, Griffin slept on a couch in front of the fireplace, Lily asleep on his chest, tightly swaddled, looking comfortable as she slumbered.

  “Lily,” Braden muttered automatically, stepping in that direction.

  “Don’t you dare,” Cormack warned, shaking a finger. “She’s been quiet for most of the day. The only times she’s cried is when she needed her diaper changed or was hungry.”

  “In other words, she’s been acting like a normal baby,” Redmond offered, grinning. “Perhaps the demon possessing her has been exorcized.”

  “That’s not funny.” Cormack glared at his oldest son. “That baby has exhausted herself with the crying. She’s slept most of the day. Can you imagine how much effort she expended in the past few days? She barely weighs ten pounds, for crying out loud.”

  “I’m sorry.” Redmond held up his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t casting aspersions on your favorite granddaughter. Chill out.”

  “Oh, don’t play coy,” Braden admonished, moving closer to Griffin and Lily so he could get a better look at his niece. When he returned to my side, he was grinning. “She’s kind of cute when she’s not all red-faced and screaming.”

  The strength of his smile momentarily turned me gooey. He was clearly as enamored with the baby as the rest of his family. He probably didn’t want anyone to know that, but it was broadly advertised all over his face, which made him even more handsome than normal and was all sorts of distracting.

  “She’s definitely cute,” Cormack agreed, tilting his head as he stared at the sleeping father and daughter. “Griffin took her all afternoon. It wasn’t really a hardship, because she was much better than she has been.”

  “Does that mean Aisling got some sleep?” I asked hopefully.

  Cormack nodded. “She slept all day, which she desperately needed. I thought she would be perkier afterward, but she’s had attitude.”

  That didn’t surprise me. “Doesn’t she always have attitude?” I asked.

  Cormack snickered. “She’s ... feisty.”

  “She’s spoiled rotten,” Braden corrected, gesturing toward a small couch at the side of the room. “Take a load off,” he instructed. “We actually have some news to share with you, Dad.”

  “Does this have something to do with the cryptic text I received from Cillian?” Cormack asked. “He was complaining about the library at the main office falling woefully short for the research he has to conduct.”

  “It has something to do with it,” Braden hedged, quickly glancing at me. “Do you want to tell the story? You’re the star of it.”

  I felt put on the spot, but I nodded. It would be easier for me to describe what happened. In quick order, I led Cormack through my day. It had been only a few hours since I saw him, but it felt much longer. When I got to the part where I found the being inside Granger’s head, Cormack looked as if he had questions. He stifled them until I was finished.

  “You’ve had quite the day.” He rubbed his chin. “Not only did you miraculously quiet my granddaughter so she could finally get the sleep she so desperately needs, you also found a ghost living inside a young boy’s head. I don’t know how many people can say that.”

  “I’ve never come across anything like it,” I admitted. “It’s ... weird. I’ve seen ghosts before. They’re much more prevalent in New Orleans.”

  “The reaper circuit there is lazy,” Cormack muttered, his expression darkening. “They have a much more lackadaisical attitude than we do.”

  “Yes, well ... chicory and beignets will do that to you.” When no one laughed at my lame joke, I sobered. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not sure it was a ghost. It had qualities of a ghost, if that makes sense, but it didn’t look or act like a ghost. It was something else.”

  “What?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Hmm.” Cormack rubbed his chin and watched as Griffin shifted slightly, keeping a firm hold on Lily as he went back to sleep. It was a heartwarming sight, and I didn’t miss the way Cormack’s expression softened as he watched them. The man liked to talk big. Aisling told me he used to threaten Griffin when they first started dating. He was obviously more bark, though, because he was genuinely fond of his son-in-law ... and he loved his granddaughter to distraction.

  “You said you heard a name,” Aidan prodded, his expression thoughtful. “What was the name again?”

  “Ryan Carroll,” I answered automatically.

  “That sounds familiar, although I can’t remember where I’ve heard it.”

  “I know where,” Cormack said. “He used to be a reaper a long time ago. He’s from before my time. He was active during your grandfather’s era.”

  “Really?” Aidan arched an eyebrow. “Is he famous or something?”

  “Well, I guess that’s a matter of debate.” Cormack rolled his neck. “I suppose you want to hear the story.”

  That was an understatement. “I think it would be best.”

  “Then we need to get the others in here. I want to tell it only once.”

  Ten

  Cillian and Aisling joined the action in the office within ten minutes, Aisling immediately shuffling toward the back of the room to study her sleeping husband and baby with unreadable eyes.

  Perhaps sensing that something unfortunate was about to happen, Cillian slid an arm around her shoulders and directed her toward one of the couches near Cormack’s desk.

  “Let sleeping babies be,” he whispered to her, poking her side as he led her to the couch. “Mom always said that about you and Aidan when you were little. We would stand over your cribs and try to get you to wake up and she would always yell at us.”

>   “Oh, yeah?” Aisling arched an eyebrow as she settled. She had more color in her cheeks than the previous day, but that wasn’t saying much. “I don’t remember her saying that.”

  “That’s because you were the baby we all wanted to sleep.”

  “You and Aidan were definitely loud,” Redmond agreed, grinning. “I was used to babies at that point — even though I tried to convince Dad I would be better off as an only child — but you guys were especially loud.”

  “And smelly,” Braden added, grinning when his sister scowled at him. “You two could fill more diapers than any ten babies twice your size.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s insulting us, Ais,” Aidan noted. “Get him.”

  She merely shook her head and rubbed her forehead. “Maybe when I’m feeling more like myself.”

  Concern washed over me as I regarded her. “I thought you got some sleep.”

  “I did ... and thank you for making that happen.” She was earnest. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if the crying hadn’t stopped.”

  “You would’ve been fine,” Cormack reassured her. “You already look better.”

  “You do,” Braden agreed. “Although ... you’re ridiculously thin. I can’t remember you ever being that thin.”

  “I remember,” Aidan said darkly. “She was trying to get into a specific dress for homecoming so she would look better than Angelina. Dad had a fit and made her eat three burgers in one sitting because he said no daughter of his was ever going to diet. By the time the dance rolled around, Angelina had the dress Aisling wanted and had starved herself for weeks to get into it. She made a big deal of lording it over Aisling.”

  I’d met Angelina Davenport, the woman Aisling referred to as her “arch nemesis,” during a shopping excursion several weeks ago. I didn’t know the woman well, but it was easy to see she was unpleasant, and I could imagine her doing that and much worse during her teenage years.

  “I would rather wear a bigger dress than worry about looking like Angelina,” I offered helpfully.

  Aisling’s smile was wan. “Too bad I haven’t run into her the last few days, huh? She would foam at the mouth over the fact that I can fit into jeans I wore when I was fourteen.”