Page 15 of Unbroken (Rath & Rune #4)

By the time they left the Endicott estate, it was quite late, meaning they’d have to put off their visit to Rulkowski for another day.

While the rest of the household slept, Ves perched high in one of the trees overhanging Bonnie’s house, Noct tucked into the crook of a branch beside him.

He’d relayed everything Ambrose said to his brother, along with the encounter with Grandfather.

The night was warm, the heat wave refusing to relinquish its grip. Crickets chirped stridently, and the perfume of summer flowers floated on the breeze. The moon was hastening toward new, and only a thin crescent hung in the eastern sky.

“I’m not entirely surprised,” Noct said, when he’d finished. “The Endicotts have a long history, and it would be ridiculous to expect all of them to accept us.”

“I know, but…” Ves trailed off. Somehow, after Rupert accepted them, he’d expected the rest of the family to do more than simply fall into line. To change their hearts, perhaps, despite the weight of centuries of tradition.

“It sounds like Ambrose was drunk,” Noct went on.

“I’m not saying he wasn’t sharing his actual feelings, but he was also embarrassed by not having realized Grandfather wasn’t just a friend to trade old war-stories with.

That combination tends to make people more aggressive than they might be otherwise. ”

Ves looked at him skeptically. “And how many drunk people have you known?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the apartment with the family next door who fought all the time?”

They’d lived in any number of dingy apartments and boarding houses. “Which one?”

“The…” Noct frowned, then snapped his fingers. “The Hilman family.”

“Gods of the wood, I haven’t thought about them in years.” It was one of the first places they’d lived, back when Ves was still trying to find steady work. “Talk about two people who should never have been together. What a nightmare.”

“I didn’t have much to do but listen to them carry on. And they were both very fond of drink. I heard everything from drunken lovemaking to Mrs. Hilman threatening to kill Mr. Hilman with a frying pan and serve him up for dinner.”

“Lord of the trees.” Ves shook his head. They’d been two people in desperate poverty, struggling to survive, and with no one to take out their frustrations on but each other. “I wonder if she ever did.”

“Let’s hope not.” Noct pushed aside some leaves to study a patch of stars. “At any rate, I stand by what I said about Ambrose.”

“I’m glad we know how he really feels, at least.” Ves drew up his legs and wrapped his arms around his knees. “It makes me wonder how many of the others think the same, though. They won’t go against Rupert, but they aren’t happy with us.”

“Specifically, with me,” Noct corrected with a wry smile. “Don’t fret—I’ll win over those who can be won.”

“If anyone so much as speaks unkindly to you—”

“You’ll come charging to my rescue. I know.” Noct smiled again and reached out some of his tentacles.

Ves reached back with some of his own, twining them together. “Assuming Irene doesn’t get there first. I love you, brother.”

Noct’s tentacles squeezed his. “I love you, too.”

* * *

“Let’s hope the clothes have time to dry before the thunderstorms arrive,” Bonnie said, wiping sweat from her face.

The day had dawned hot, and kept getting hotter as the hours rolled past, until the late afternoon was practically stifling.

Ves didn’t mind—Dark Young were much hardier than humans at extremes of both hot and cold—but the morning newspaper listed a number of people prostrated by the previous day’s heat, including one death. Today looked to be even worse.

Even so, in a house of nine people, including four active children and an infant with diapers, laundry had to be done no matter the weather.

Sebastian was in charge of bringing the loads of clothes to the washer, while Bonnie added the washing powder and cranked the washing machine’s lever.

Ves ran the clean clothes through the wringer, and Noct used his many tentacles to pin them to the clothesline.

Bonnie’s cheeks were flushed from the heat and exertion. “I’m heartily sick of this weather. They say the heat will break next week, though half the time the weather service gets it wrong.”

“I wonder if we could do better,” Noct mused, taking a shirt from Ves in one tentacle while he pinned up socks with two others. “I’ve never tried, but we might be able to sense atmospheric changes. What do you think, Ves?”

He grinned. “The Dark Young Weather Service. We’ll be rich in no time.”

“How is your courtship going with Irene, Noct?” Bonnie asked.

“Well enough that I’ve decided I’ll be glad to change my last name.” His blue goat-eyes crinkled in a smile. “The Endicotts tend to insist on it, anyway, but given our family, I’ll be happy to comply.”

Leaving Ves the only Rune, besides their mother and grandfather. Which…was fine. Good, even. He was glad for Noct, glad his brother had found somewhere he fit.

“Last load,” Sebastian announced as he carried a basket out of the house. “No diapers, thank God.”

“Mama!” Tommy shouted from the direction of the front yard. “Someone’s here and wants to talk to Uncle Sebastian or Uncle Ves!”

Ves exchanged a frown with Sebastian, while Noct paused in the midst of pinning up one of Jossie’s frocks and a shirt of Willie’s. “We’ll go see what’s happening,” Ves said. “If there’s any need to hide, one of us will come back and let you know.”

Leaving Bonnie and Noct with the remainder of the laundry, he hurried around the side of the house, Sebastian following. Tommy sat on the sidewalk, holding a toy truck in his hand and gazing up at a messenger boy on a bicycle.

“You gents Sebastian Rath and Vesper Rune?” the messenger asked, then didn’t wait for them to answer before thrusting out a slip of paper in their direction.

Sebastian dug a dime from his pocket and exchanged it for the message. “Thanks, mister!” the messenger exclaimed, then immediately wheeled back out the front gate and vanished down the street.

“I want a bicycle!” Tommy said, tugging on Ves’s trousers.

“Ask your mother,” he replied absently, most of his attention on Sebastian’s expression as he read the message.

“We need to go to the library.” Sebastian folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket. “It would seem Penelope Tubbs attempted to break in.”

* * *

“Oh God.” Paul Tubbs sat in a chair in the museum’s security office. Mr. Quinn stood nearby, and a young security guard hovered in the corner. “This can’t be happening. This is some sort of sick prank you’re all playing on me.”

They’d come as quickly as possible, with Sebastian paying for a cab so they didn’t have to wait for the trolley. When they arrived, it was to find Mr. Quinn had summoned Tubbs as well. Why, Sebastian couldn’t imagine.

“I assure you, Mr. Tubbs, I don’t play pranks,” Mr. Quinn said, his silvery eyes like frost. “You are her kin, and already involved, so I did you the courtesy of letting you know.”

Sebastian wished he hadn’t, and suspected Mr. Quinn would also soon regret his generous impulse.

Tubbs looked around at them. “If you’ve violated her grave, I swear—”

“Mortimer and I tried to tell you Siewert came back as a bloodsucking fiend, but you refused to believe it,” Ves snapped. “I even suggested you secure your sister-in-law with a mortsafe, but you wouldn’t hear of it.”

Tubbs’s face crumpled, and he looked as though he might start to cry. Mr. Quinn turned to the security guard. “Tell us again what happened.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “I was doing my rounds as usual, and I heard a strange sound. Stranger than usual, I mean. Like something flopping around on the floor. It was coming from the direction of the library, so I headed there. It looked like a woman, but she wasn’t, uh…

in good shape.” Sweat popped out on his forehead.

“She was burned up, but the dress she was wearing wasn’t charred at all.

She was lying there with something strange coming out of her mouth, twitching.

She tried to crawl toward me, and the thing in her mouth was lashing around, so I, uh, discharged my weapon. She didn’t move after that.”

The poor man looked as though he might vomit. Mr. Quinn took pity on him and said, “Thank you. You may return to your rounds, and we’ll take care of the details.”

“I ought to file a report.”

“No need.” Mr. Quinn gestured at the door, and the guard finally took the hint and left.

When the man was gone, he said, “The additional deterrents to after-hours visitors seem to have worked. I assumed from the condition of the body that it belongs to Mrs. Tubbs, but I’d like you gentlemen to confirm her identity. ”

“I’ll do it.” Tubbs set his jaw. “I don’t trust you not to lie to me.”

Sebastian sighed. Must the man be so stubborn? “Mr. Tubbs—”

Mr. Quinn lifted his hand, and Sebastian fell silent. “She is his family. Come along, Mr. Tubbs. You may see her for yourself, if you so wish.”

The pitiful remains of Penelope Tubbs lay in a crumpled heap on the floor in front of the main doors to the library, which remained resolutely shut.

She’d been buried in a beautiful, pale blue gown; it was now streaked with dirt and contrasted sharply with her burned skin.

The guard’s shot had been true: a small hole in her forehead, and the back of her skull blown away.

The same mosquito-like proboscis that Siewert had sported emerged from her open jaws.

Tubbs moaned—then stumbled away to retch in a corner. His pale eyes trained on the corpse, Mr. Quinn said, “The vampire’s bite infects those it kills, or so the stories go. I wonder—are the leeches under someone’s control, or just acting on instinct?”

A good question. “Mr. Tubbs, if this is anything like what happened to Mr. Siewert, her grave may have been vandalized. Can you go look, and report back if anyone wrote or drew something on her headstone?”

Looking numb, Tubbs nodded. “Y-Yes. I can do that.”

Sebastian would prefer to go himself, but he was already on very thin ice with the Lesters, and doubted they would take it well if he was spotted in the cemetery again. And having a task might make Tubbs feel better, at least a little.

“I’d suggest not telling your brother that her body doesn’t rest in its grave,” Mr. Quinn said. “Though of course, that is your decision.”

Tubbs glanced at the corpse, then turned away, gagging. After a few moments, he managed to say, “What’s going to happen to her?”

“We’ll burn the body and scatter the ashes. Is there anywhere in particular you think she’d like?”

“Her garden.” Tubbs swallowed convulsively. “Can you—can you give them to me, when it’s done? She should have a family member do this for her.”

“I’ll see to it personally,” Mr. Quinn assured him.

Tubbs nodded and leaned against the wall, as if to regather his strength.

Lowering his voice, Mr. Quinn murmured, “I’ll see Mr. Tubbs safely into a cab.

I believe he’s likely had enough for today.

Mr. Rune, Mr. Rath, the taxidermy shop has an incinerator for unused parts.

I suggest you dispose of the remains in it, to make sure they don’t reanimate a second time. ”

* * *

“Poor Mr. Tubbs,” Ves said as they crossed the small courtyard behind the museum to where the incinerator waited. He carried what was left of Penelope in his arms, wrapped in one of the heavy cloths used to protect the books and furniture when the bats were loose in the library.

Sebastian hadn’t imagined he’d ever feel bad for the man, but no one deserved to see a member of their family in such a state. “At least now he’ll believe us about the leeches.”

“Perhaps he’ll realize the matter is too dangerous for his involvement.”

“It’ll probably just make him more determined,” Sebastian muttered. “Why must he be underfoot all the time? If he’d just let it go—”

“Would you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer; they both knew what he’d say. He heaved open the door to the incinerator, then almost choked on the ash that floated out. “The taxidermy department needs to do a better job of cleaning.”

Ves gently placed the bundle containing what remained of Penelope into the incinerator, then stepped back to allow Sebastian to shut the door. He switched on the gas and ignited it. A few moments later, greasy black smoke began to rise from the chimney.

“I do understand why Tubbs wants to help,” he admitted reluctantly. “And his frustration with us. It’s just…if he’d let us do our job, he would never have known about this. He could have gone to his own grave thinking Penelope remained sleeping peacefully in hers.”

Ves arched a brow. “Ignorance is bliss?”

“In this case, yes.”

“Hmm.” Ves looked thoughtful, but didn’t elaborate.

“Perhaps I’m being a hypocrite.” Sebastian removed his glasses, took out a handkerchief, and wiped traces of ash from the lenses.

“A part of me wishes I’d never learned that Mother’s death wasn’t an accident.

But knowing means I can try to bring her some measure of justice.

If we could tell Tubbs about the Books, I might welcome his help. ”

“But we can’t.”

“After what happened with poor Arthur…and I knew him so much better than I frankly care to know Mr. Tubbs.” He replaced his glasses and pushed them into position on his nose. “Everyone who’s had them in their possession has been seduced by their corrupting influence.”

Ves tilted his head slightly. “Except Ladysmith and Dromgoole.”

“And we don’t know how long they actually had the Books on hand and not locked away in a vault on the other side of town until they could figure out how to Bind them.” God, if only he could look back through time. “Nor how more…lively…the Books are now, after the comet awakened them.”

“True.” Ves stepped back and watched the smoke rise. “So what next?”

“We’ll go from here to Rulkowski’s house.” His jaw tightened. “He’s going to tell me everything he knows, one way or another.”

Unfortunately, that proved easier said than done. When they arrived at Rulkowski’s home, every window was dark, and no one answered their knocks. Frustrated, Sebastian scribbled a note on a scrap of paper and slid it beneath the door, informing Rulkowski they needed to meet—urgently.

“Do you think he left town?” Ves speculated as they returned to the sidewalk and made for home.

“If he did, he’d best hope the magic of the Book can’t reach him elsewhere,” Sebastian said grimly. “Because otherwise, I doubt Mr. Rulkowski has much of a chance at survival.”