Read Online Into the Shadows by Gavin Green - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gavin Green
Tags: Paranormal
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office?" I leaned
over and peered into the dark room.
"Sure you would," Sarah said, and then
strolled into the room. She found a light switch, and two small
lamps at either end of a desk came on. The room was deep, but not
very wide. It did have a window that faced north, though. All that
was in the office was the desk, lamps, and a leather chair. "I
doubt you'd be in here much," she went on, "but it'd be a nice
place to write your reports or do any online work. You might also
get to know some of the stiff collars you could be guarding."
"Hey, just between us, who is Ms.
Rondeau's employer?"
She gave me one of her coy smiles. "I
couldn't tell you even if I knew."
Just then, the lights flickered - desk lamps,
corridor lights, everything. We decided to head back down to the
car. I needed to hit the head, and after I explained what that
meant, Sarah decided that she needed to use the restroom as well.
We found a pair that was side-by-side. I finished up quick, stepped
out, and was about to meander around when I heard her voice through
the door. She was talking to someone on the phone. I stepped closer
and leaned in to listen. Don't judge - you would've, too.
". . . something about flowers and colors,
and . . ." There was a pause. "Well, yes, but he was raving."
Another pause, and then, "Alright, there was something about an
ancient shadow, and then he called me a harlot. Can you believe
that?" I could almost hear the voice from the phone because of the
bathroom's echo. "Yes, I'm sorry," Sarah said quietly. "Yes, he
did, but I didn't make much sense of it. Something like, 'the
Velenti', or 'the Vilidi' . . . What? Yes, Veleti - that sounds
right." There was one more pause before Sarah said, "I will. He's
nice, but kind of intense. I'll show him the loft and . . .
hello?"
I backed away from the door and turned to
admire some stupid painting. Sarah came out a minute later; her
smile couldn't quite hide the worry in her eyes. We went back to
the elevator; I noticed that only the buttons from 36 to 39 were
lit, as well as G1. I assumed it didn't make any stops on any of
the other floors. We didn't speak on the ride back down, each of us
reliving her phone call. I was kind of intense?
LATINO
Sarah and I went back down the long hallway
and through the opaque sliding doors. Only a few steps out into the
parking garage, we saw four male teenagers - thugs, bangers, punks,
delinquents, take your pick. They were an odd mix, though; two were
black, one white, and the last one was a short Latino. Two were
near the sedans to the right, and two to the left, all about
fifteen yards from us. They all had knives of various types in
their hands, and every single car tire was flat. Oh wonderful.
"How you doin' tonight, man?" the Latino
asked me.
I gauged each of them quickly by their
posture and how they carried themselves - confident, and no
strangers to violence. I didn't like my odds. "I was doing okay
until I found out we'd be taking a taxi home. How are you?"
All of them grinned. The Latino kid smiled
wide at his friends and said, "I like that guy - he's all polite
an' shit." He looked back to me. "We're doin' real good, man,
thanks for askin'. Hold up, wait a second; sorry, I take it back.
We do got one little problem."
I felt the chances of Sarah and I walking
away get thinner. "Look, man, we really don't want to be your
problem. We can pay you for the fine work you've done on the tires,
and then we'll call it a night, okay?"
The teens laughed, hopefully at my little
joke. I stepped in front of Sarah and said over my shoulder for her
to get back near the doors.
"Nah, man," the Latino said with a chuckle,
"the air pressure checks are on the house. But the 'fine work' we
done don't really solve our problem. You understand?"
"Alright, you've got a problem. How can I
help you fix it?" I noticed a couple of them had gun butts sticking
out of their pants. Shit.
"You can help us by walkin', man," the Latino
said as he put his knife
over and peered into the dark room.
"Sure you would," Sarah said, and then
strolled into the room. She found a light switch, and two small
lamps at either end of a desk came on. The room was deep, but not
very wide. It did have a window that faced north, though. All that
was in the office was the desk, lamps, and a leather chair. "I
doubt you'd be in here much," she went on, "but it'd be a nice
place to write your reports or do any online work. You might also
get to know some of the stiff collars you could be guarding."
"Hey, just between us, who is Ms.
Rondeau's employer?"
She gave me one of her coy smiles. "I
couldn't tell you even if I knew."
Just then, the lights flickered - desk lamps,
corridor lights, everything. We decided to head back down to the
car. I needed to hit the head, and after I explained what that
meant, Sarah decided that she needed to use the restroom as well.
We found a pair that was side-by-side. I finished up quick, stepped
out, and was about to meander around when I heard her voice through
the door. She was talking to someone on the phone. I stepped closer
and leaned in to listen. Don't judge - you would've, too.
". . . something about flowers and colors,
and . . ." There was a pause. "Well, yes, but he was raving."
Another pause, and then, "Alright, there was something about an
ancient shadow, and then he called me a harlot. Can you believe
that?" I could almost hear the voice from the phone because of the
bathroom's echo. "Yes, I'm sorry," Sarah said quietly. "Yes, he
did, but I didn't make much sense of it. Something like, 'the
Velenti', or 'the Vilidi' . . . What? Yes, Veleti - that sounds
right." There was one more pause before Sarah said, "I will. He's
nice, but kind of intense. I'll show him the loft and . . .
hello?"
I backed away from the door and turned to
admire some stupid painting. Sarah came out a minute later; her
smile couldn't quite hide the worry in her eyes. We went back to
the elevator; I noticed that only the buttons from 36 to 39 were
lit, as well as G1. I assumed it didn't make any stops on any of
the other floors. We didn't speak on the ride back down, each of us
reliving her phone call. I was kind of intense?
LATINO
Sarah and I went back down the long hallway
and through the opaque sliding doors. Only a few steps out into the
parking garage, we saw four male teenagers - thugs, bangers, punks,
delinquents, take your pick. They were an odd mix, though; two were
black, one white, and the last one was a short Latino. Two were
near the sedans to the right, and two to the left, all about
fifteen yards from us. They all had knives of various types in
their hands, and every single car tire was flat. Oh wonderful.
"How you doin' tonight, man?" the Latino
asked me.
I gauged each of them quickly by their
posture and how they carried themselves - confident, and no
strangers to violence. I didn't like my odds. "I was doing okay
until I found out we'd be taking a taxi home. How are you?"
All of them grinned. The Latino kid smiled
wide at his friends and said, "I like that guy - he's all polite
an' shit." He looked back to me. "We're doin' real good, man,
thanks for askin'. Hold up, wait a second; sorry, I take it back.
We do got one little problem."
I felt the chances of Sarah and I walking
away get thinner. "Look, man, we really don't want to be your
problem. We can pay you for the fine work you've done on the tires,
and then we'll call it a night, okay?"
The teens laughed, hopefully at my little
joke. I stepped in front of Sarah and said over my shoulder for her
to get back near the doors.
"Nah, man," the Latino said with a chuckle,
"the air pressure checks are on the house. But the 'fine work' we
done don't really solve our problem. You understand?"
"Alright, you've got a problem. How can I
help you fix it?" I noticed a couple of them had gun butts sticking
out of their pants. Shit.
"You can help us by walkin', man," the Latino
said as he put his knife
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