Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2)

by LeAnn Mason

  4

  I still couldn’t register what had happened. How it had gone wrong. How Jessica had…

  I rubbed at my aching jaw where Raven’s wicked right hook had connected when reality had slapped us in the face there in the yard, when Seke had delivered judgment to our sultry siren. Just when the remaining teammates would have completely devolved into chaos, Seke had stepped in, physically pulling the convergence away and forcing us to complete the mission, escape the prison, and hash out grievances once safely away.

  Fast forward, and the shit was truly hitting the fan.

  “We should have left her in the yard to face the consequences!”

  “Brenna, you know that was not an option. We do not leave our teammates behind,” Seke returned, attempting to smooth the waters. He’d taken on that role often in the last few months.

  The look Raven shot him would make lesser men crumble, but the god returned the stare with stoic calm, at least, outwardly.

  He was trying to keep his emotions from his face, his body, his tone… from his words. But even though I’d only been in his company for a few short months, I could see the tightness in his features, the furrow between his brows, the downturn of his lips.

  It wasn’t just him I could read; I’d studied them all.

  Cole and Ember were grieving quietly where they sat next to each other on the floor. His legs were bent, arms laid straight across their respective knees, head bowed. Ember, having finished an entire pint of ice cream, was now curled into his side, arms wrapped around one of his large biceps. Her head rested against a broad shoulder. Raven… well, wanted to kill me. Not that such thoughts were anything new.

  “You need to understand that what happened was preordained—”

  “Forgive me, Cap, but I call bullshit! We worked together seamlessly for years, and then along comes the fucking warning system from hell, and all of a sudden, Jess gets overwhelmed? I’m not betting on that as coincidence. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that she needed to be avoided. And no offense, but if you hadn’t taken her in like some stray puppy who wagged her tail in your direction, we’d still be whole.” Raven’s eyes had turned completely black during her rant, fingers curled tightly into her fleshy palms. Rivulets of blood streamed from the hidden wounds her talon-like fingernails must have made and dripped to the golden-threaded rug beneath her feet, but the irate shifter didn’t even notice.

  That drip, that blood had my full attention. Was it my hands that were steeped in it? Had I been the variable that had gotten Jessica killed?

  Wetness leaked from my eyes to stream down my face in rivers, but I couldn’t care. I was a mess. But we all were. I didn’t want to hide my grief. I would mourn Jessica. I would miss her. I could only imagine what the others felt. My pain was a drop in the bucket compared to theirs. Like Raven had said, they’d been together for years.

  “I’m… I’m so sorry,” the words pushed out of me, inadequate to say the least.

  “Sorry?” Raven strode around Seke to come at me like a freight train. “You’re sorry? That’s precious. The big-mouth feels bad that she got our friend killed.” Her face contorted into a parody of remorse as she feigned sorrow on my behalf.

  After a second of the act, she returned to her natural, pissed-off state to lunge at me where I sat. Lucky for me, there was a wooden dining table between the two of us, the lacquered obstruction allowing Seke to wrap around the little viper before she clawed my eyes out. “It was your job to tell us the targets. Your job to give us warning. You were supposed to be an asset! All I see is a liability.”

  She turned her wrath back on Seke. Her long glossy black hair fell in a sheet down her back, which was ramrod straight as she looked up into his concerned face. Her open and continued hostility appeared to be working its way beneath his calm facade. If she wasn’t careful, she’d stir up the hornet’s nest, and I sincerely doubted any of us wanted that, especially now. “I want her gone. We’re better without her.”

  I was torn. Part of me agreed. I should get out of here. I was a liability, and now that they perceived me as the object of their destruction, my safety was compromised. I hadn’t considered this a permanent arrangement, after all, had I?

  “I do not believe that. And Jessica’s departure—”

  “She’s dead, Seke. She didn’t just leave. It wasn’t by choice,” Cole lamented cooly from his spot on the floor. He hadn’t moved except to lift his head and address their leader, his illuminated eyes seeking the god’s. “Don’t try to downplay what happened. Jessica was family. Aria is not.”

  I couldn’t help my wince, though I didn’t disagree.

  Ember patted Cole’s dark arm soothingly before turning large, cinnamon-colored irises on Seke. Her soft features were streaked and splotched in red, showcasing her grief in a way the others had not. She’d regenerated and returned to the bunker moments after the rest of the team had crossed the threshold. She was still processing the fact that she would never see her friend again. “If you knew Jessica was going to die, why wouldn’t you warn us?”

  Had he known?

  All eyes turned toward the captain, the god of death. He must have seen hope mingled with accusation as his attention bounced to land on each member in turn. We all held our breath, waiting for his response. “No. I do not know who I will ferry until they meet their mortal end. There is much blame we could place for this tragedy, but really, we need to learn from this instance.”

  “You’re seriously going to turn this into a teachable moment?” Raven scoffed with derision. Her already short fuse was getting really close to the point of detonation, and before Seke tried applying logic into the all-too emotional atmosphere, it had only been aimed at me. Now, he would be within the blast radius.

  Knowing anything I said at that point would only fan her ire, I decided to keep my trap shut. At least, I actually could in this instance. We’d been trying to work on my banshee skills, but without being in proximity of death, it was an impossible task.

  “We have learned two things, each very important,” Seke went on, either not noticing or, more likely, thinking his information would change the emotional tide. “While we knew there were two targets, Aria’s vision upon our arrival at the prison only alluded to one. The second happened during the inciting moment.”

  “Because she’s defective!” Raven pointed accusingly back at me without turning away from Seke.

  “We do not know a lot about banshee abilities. There are none to ask except this one.” Seke, too, pointed in my direction.

  I really wanted to pipe up about being referred to as “this one,” reduced to no more than my supernatural classification, but I refrained. Now was not the time.

  “That said, the other interesting fact we learned through this tragedy,” he said, tacking on the appeasement when he noticed the steam emanating from Raven’s ears, “is that she can foretell not only human deaths but supernaturals’ as well.” He stood beseechingly, arm still stretched in my direction as if willing the rest of us to agree, to see what a miracle the notion was.

  Raven, not moved by his words, pushed her small frame into Seke’s space. Craning her neck to stare down our leader, the image should have conjured a comedic response. After all, what could one little Raven shifter do to a big, bad god? But at that moment, laughter was the furthest thing from my mind. I thought the little sociopath just might try her hand at killing a god... and succeed.

  “Enough,” Seke boomed, his tenuous hold on calmness virtually snapping like a dry twig under Raven’s brazenness.

  Shadows gathered and swirled around his lean figure, a swelling cloud of infernal retribution as he stared back at Raven’s defiant form. The air seemed heavier, weighing down on my body, making even sitting upright daunting. Despair leaked into my psyche, making me feel like I just wanted to give up, to leave, to fade away to nothing…

  “You will disband. We all need some time to deal with our loss. Find somewhere else to be until this evening when w
e will reconvene for a proper remembrance and celebration of life for our dearest Jessica.”

  When Raven opened her mouth, shadows swirled to wrap around her head like a gag, twisting and tightening until no sound escaped and her overlarge eyes bulged, which Seke took as agreement.

  “Go, now. Rest. Recharge. We will speak later.”

  Feeling the menace in the air, no one argued with the order, each working against the heavy pressure to stand then file through the open kitchen doorway. My other three teammates gravitated toward one another, Cole’s arms wrapping to envelop his girls in a strong and reassuring embrace as they trudged off together.

  The air cleared, lightening again to a tolerable level as I, too, moved to exit the space and leave Seke to his own company. We all had a lot to think about. I would probably go hide in a pillow for a bit before I sucked it up like a big girl and decided where to go from here.

  “Don’t let this discourage you,” Seke implored softly.

  Looking back over my shoulder, I noticed he still stood rooted to his spot in the center of the area as if he was a natural extension of the wood flooring upon which he stood.

  “You are wanted.”

  A small, sardonic smile touched my lips. “Sure, Boss.”

  Even if he wanted me to stay, the others didn’t. And they would win. A team only worked in cohesion. I was a kink in the hose, a knot in the thread, a screaming banshee in the Harbingers of Death Prison Unit.

  “It might be time for me to move on,” I said.

  Before I let him reel me in and lure me into a false sense of safety and wantedness, I forced my feet to walk away.

  I planned to do what Seke asked, to spend the day ruminating on my emotions, my options. But I was exhausted. The mission had frayed my nerves from the get-go, and I hadn’t slept more than a few hours in over a week. I decided a nap was in order. Then, I’d tackle the big issues of how to proceed with my life. If everything in life happened for a reason, the way it was meant to, maybe this was my cue to leave.

  I still needed answers about my tattoo, and after today, maybe I didn’t want to be a banshee. If someone could repair and repower the binding runes on my tattoo, I could quell my supernatural abilities and forget this mess, ditch this pin on the map of my journey.

  Moving on was a fact of my life, and I’d done it countless times. If I had to pick up and go yet again, it wouldn’t be a big deal, except… except these people, these harbingers were more like me than anyone I’d encountered before.

  Like a slap in the face, I realized that I desperately wanted to fit in somewhere, to be wanted. Not only was my self-reliant shell cracking, the nerves exposed, but that hope was drowning. After losing Jessica, they’d never accept me.

  That hurt more than it should have. It had only been a couple of months, a handful of weeks, but I’d had glimpses of what life could be.

  Cole was watchful and protective like a big brother.

  Ember was aloof but sage, piping up to deliver pieces of advice for whatever lesson I was entrenched in.

  Raven, though a raving bitch, was very alert and cunning. She’d played more than a few pranks and initiation hazes on me, the only things about my presence that seemed to bring her joy. Was that what it was like to have a sister?

  And Seke… Seke was like the smolderingly hot guy at work. The one you eye-fucked constantly, just imagining what kind of moves gave him that groove. Tension around that man, that god, was intense and only getting hotter.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he returned the sentiment, but nothing had come of the little touches, the innuendos, the full-body pinning. That one kiss had been cut short and never repeated... leaving me wanting. I needed relief. Well, other than self-served. I was doing fine there, but damn it, a banshee needed more!

  Shit, now I was all hot and bothered again. Maybe a shower was in order before a nap would even be possible. Besides, my hair was greasy, my face dry, and my body chaffed from the scratchy prison duds. Once I was clean and dry, I’d fill my face holes with all the little metal piercings that I’d removed prior to our latest prison stint. The piercings were a security blanket I apparently still needed. It made me feel like I was the badass their look telegraphed. Like I could handle anything.

  I steered my way across my bedroom to grab some comfy clothes to sleep in: a tank top and cotton boxers. Seeing the small wooden box carved with Celtic knots, I snapped it up, bringing it with me to the washroom.

  Shower. Sleep. Then, celebration of life.

  Were we allowed to be drunk for that?

  5

  I had never attended a celebration of life before. But celebration was not a word I’d put on the brochure.

  When Mom went, dad was pissed… and got pissed until we moved on. Then, when Dad was killed, well, it just left me. Without knowing the details surrounding his death, I’d flown the coop and been on the move since, not settling still long enough to have time to grieve.

  That’s what the lessons taught me: When something goes wrong, don’t linger. Get out as fast as you can.

  I couldn’t peace-out in the midst of a memorial without the somber crowd standing around the carefully arranged altar—shrine?—going berserk. I’d also had to stay and say my piece like everyone else in the most awkward, albeit shortest speech ever. Otherwise, I would have been tackled by a raven, who’d love an excuse to peck my eyes out, and dragged back before the makeshift altar by a ruthless hellhound and fiery phoenix.

  So, I stood there patiently and respectfully until we were dismissed. Okay, maybe not patiently. I suffered. With my heart full of guilt and a sense of alienation weighing me down, by the time we hit that last, long silence, the need to ditch was like an itch in the seat of my pants.

  The silence hadn’t been complete. It was punctuated by sniffles from Ember and a faint, pained, canine whine that I was pretty sure Cole wasn’t even aware he was making. I didn’t belong there, wasn’t worthy of standing before the photo of the gorgeous siren smiling out from behind the glass with lush red lips and a mischievous twinkle in her unfairly thick-lashed eyes — the epitome of perfection. And what was I but an unwanted, defective banshee who’d last seen said siren drowning under a sea of orange, being pulled under by dozens of groping hands?

  When Seke decided to close the service with an old recording of Jessica’s siren song, well, the options were to take my leave with dignity or seal my own death by jumping the god on the spot in front of his hateful, trained fighters like a bitch in heat. That siren’s melodies were potent shit. Listening to Jessica’s music was like taking a shot of lust potion straight to the vein.

  Bowing my head to show reverence, I peaced the fuck out, no one stopping me from leaving. They didn’t want me there either.

  Now, I was cowering in the bunker’s silent library, trying to pretend like Seke hadn’t said he would find me once they’d all finished saying their goodbyes.

  The thought of him tracking me down here, where we would be alone, was doing nothing to simmer down the heat still coursing gently in my veins. The cold shower’s effects had long since worn off, reminding me of the cycle of heat I’d perpetually been in around the god, including minutes ago at Jessica’s Celebration of Life.

  My eyes lost their focus on the page of the old tome nestled in my lap as I revisited that moment of inappropriate attraction.

  Seke had moved forward, adjusting the arm on an old record player, the needle scratching before settling into a new melody. The cooing soprano was similar to the song I’d heard Jessica belt out before she got mobbed. While he’d stared down at the spinning record, a lock of hair had dripped over his arresting hazel eyes, and his full lips had pursed as he listened.

  The shadows that had clung to him weren’t as sinister as they had been earlier, more sedate and cautious like a protective layer wrapped around him in a comforting blanket.

  He’d turned up the volume with long, nimble fingers, forearm flexing. The melody rose and sank like a boat sw
aying on the ocean, luring my hips to move with the rhythm.

  My eyes had traced up his muscled arm to the black tee that hugged his body nicely. Very nicely. It really showed off how much time he spent training.

  I had wondered if his moves on the mat were as fluid in the bedroom or if he was more of an energetic force that...

  Bang!

  Too slow to react once I felt the weight slipping down my jeans, the old book slid off my lap onto the waxed wooden floor, ripping me out of my reverie as quickly as its pages snapped closed.

  Getting my breathing back under control, I cast a furtive glance around, shame burning my cheeks, grateful to find myself still alone. To my relief, the thickly bound parchments were unharmed.

  The book was ancient, and I wondered if one of my supernatural teammates had collected it when it was new. Their ages were a mystery to me, though Seke certainly seemed the oldest and wisest. Perhaps that was a manifestation resulting from his status as captain. Or it could be due to the fact that he was over two thousand years old if he was the original Seker god from ancient Egypt…

  “There you are.”

  The book almost crashed to the floor again as I startled. Seke’s deep tone seared straight to my core, and I couldn’t withhold the shiver of desire.

  Looking up, I caught his stare as he strode toward my position at the back of the massive bookshelf-walled room. The rainbow of colored spines became a bright and cheery backdrop to Seke’s olive skin and perpetual shadows. Did I see heat in those hooded hazel eyes?

  No, of course not. Don’t be stupid, Aria. They’re full of sorrow. He’s grieving.

  The eyes in question dipped to the book.

  I lifted my chin in defiance. “I will figure out who put this tattoo on me, and I will get my powers rebound. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

  His head tilted in acknowledgment, but his mouth was a tight, straight line. “I would not stop you should you choose to return to the mundane quality of your former life.”