with a touch of grey at the temples. His reserved personality and impeccable fashion sense added an air of mystery to him as well. When I first met Aris, I assumed his only employment was simply “head Watcher.” Turned out it was a lot more—he was a homicide detective with the SFPD. I wasn't sure how he found the time to be good at both things, but he did, and of course his career with the police department allowed the Watchers access to information that wouldn't be available through legal civilian channels.
Aris slid into the booth next to Phil and placed his drink on the table without saying a word. Once he was situated, he looked Billy and I over carefully and said, “I am told that was one of the worst attacks to date. However, I am very grateful that you both survived with…,” he paused, “
minimal
damage.”
I felt Billy stiffen and I grabbed her hand to calm her down. She and Aris had been acquainted for years, and Billy believed that Aris and the Watchers could have prevented some of the more unfortunate events in her life. She was partially correct, but Aris respected her a great deal and we agreed to work with him, so she usually kept her ill feelings in check. However, she was tired and frustrated today, and I had no doubt that she was about to say something offensive and obnoxious, and I didn't see any point in getting the meeting off to a bad start.
“Pete and Mr. Grant were kind enough to provide a full report of what they experienced. Is there anything you would like to add?” Aris asked.
“Well, George seems to think the demons we followed outside deliberately picked their victims, because they were healthy and fit, strong….” There was a little attitude in her tone, but I thought it was mostly directed at me. She relaxed a bit. “I guess they were, now that I think about it. He thinks maybe that kid and his demon communicated with the others with the intention of calling us out, using stronger victims so they could hurt us or kill us.” She looked at me. “They sure put a hurt on him.”
“That they did, no thanks to you,” I said mockingly. She elbowed me and I snapped at her, “Damn it woman that hurt!” We might heal quickly, but it hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet, and my ribcage was still suffering from last night's assault.
I turned back to Aris and Phil and asked, “Did Pete tell you that I'm positive this kid was in the Tenderloin the other night?”
They both nodded, and Phil said, “Yeah, he did. But I think all that confirms is that the kid is working with the musketeer demon.” Phil paused to take a pull off his beer. “But why?”
Not all ghost killers are good; some use their power to communicate and work with powerful ghosts and demons for personal gain. These have historically been seasoned ghost killers though, people who've honed their abilities over many years of practice and experience. So to have a mere teenager, a child really, with enough power to work alongside a demon as old as this musketeer was frightening. How did he learn to do it at such a young age? Who taught him? Based on my companions' pensive expressions, I guessed they were all contemplating the same thing.
“So tell us what you've found out about the kid,” I said.
Phil said, “Okay. Well, you know we ran that partial plate, along with a description of the car. We came up with hundreds of matches. We were already checking DMV registrations for owners with teenage drivers, and we found a woman in a town east of here with a seventeen year old. The car is a dark blue Volkswagen Jetta, so that fits. We ran the woman and her name is Gail Brelong…her son's name is Calvin Brelong.”
“All right, so what do we know about them?” I asked.
“They live in a small town at the base of the Sierra Foothills in Calaveras County, called Valley Springs. The mother, according to the county assessor, owns a house and has lived there since the kid was five years old. The assessor also shows
Aris slid into the booth next to Phil and placed his drink on the table without saying a word. Once he was situated, he looked Billy and I over carefully and said, “I am told that was one of the worst attacks to date. However, I am very grateful that you both survived with…,” he paused, “
minimal
damage.”
I felt Billy stiffen and I grabbed her hand to calm her down. She and Aris had been acquainted for years, and Billy believed that Aris and the Watchers could have prevented some of the more unfortunate events in her life. She was partially correct, but Aris respected her a great deal and we agreed to work with him, so she usually kept her ill feelings in check. However, she was tired and frustrated today, and I had no doubt that she was about to say something offensive and obnoxious, and I didn't see any point in getting the meeting off to a bad start.
“Pete and Mr. Grant were kind enough to provide a full report of what they experienced. Is there anything you would like to add?” Aris asked.
“Well, George seems to think the demons we followed outside deliberately picked their victims, because they were healthy and fit, strong….” There was a little attitude in her tone, but I thought it was mostly directed at me. She relaxed a bit. “I guess they were, now that I think about it. He thinks maybe that kid and his demon communicated with the others with the intention of calling us out, using stronger victims so they could hurt us or kill us.” She looked at me. “They sure put a hurt on him.”
“That they did, no thanks to you,” I said mockingly. She elbowed me and I snapped at her, “Damn it woman that hurt!” We might heal quickly, but it hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet, and my ribcage was still suffering from last night's assault.
I turned back to Aris and Phil and asked, “Did Pete tell you that I'm positive this kid was in the Tenderloin the other night?”
They both nodded, and Phil said, “Yeah, he did. But I think all that confirms is that the kid is working with the musketeer demon.” Phil paused to take a pull off his beer. “But why?”
Not all ghost killers are good; some use their power to communicate and work with powerful ghosts and demons for personal gain. These have historically been seasoned ghost killers though, people who've honed their abilities over many years of practice and experience. So to have a mere teenager, a child really, with enough power to work alongside a demon as old as this musketeer was frightening. How did he learn to do it at such a young age? Who taught him? Based on my companions' pensive expressions, I guessed they were all contemplating the same thing.
“So tell us what you've found out about the kid,” I said.
Phil said, “Okay. Well, you know we ran that partial plate, along with a description of the car. We came up with hundreds of matches. We were already checking DMV registrations for owners with teenage drivers, and we found a woman in a town east of here with a seventeen year old. The car is a dark blue Volkswagen Jetta, so that fits. We ran the woman and her name is Gail Brelong…her son's name is Calvin Brelong.”
“All right, so what do we know about them?” I asked.
“They live in a small town at the base of the Sierra Foothills in Calaveras County, called Valley Springs. The mother, according to the county assessor, owns a house and has lived there since the kid was five years old. The assessor also shows
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