Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2)

by LeAnn Mason

  The mood in the room plummeted with my description. Torgny came to stand behind Gunhilde, a strong hand on her shoulder on which she rested her own as her head bowed, heavy with unseen weight.

  “What? Who is she?” I asked, perturbed. I didn’t like the ominous gloom-and-doom thickness in the air. It made my heart rate kick up and a shiver skitter across my skin. Somehow, I knew I wouldn’t like the answer, but I needed to know.

  “Your mother, Aria. That was your mother.”

  19

  “No.” I had said the word a few times already. “No, it can’t be. My mother is dead. My visions… they show the future.” I felt like Torgny had lost his reserved demeanor for a second and sent me a steel-armed, kidney-killer punch. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to encourage it to draw in oxygen. “My mom is in the past. Was in the past,” I corrected myself, denial warring with hope.

  “Did you see her body? Are you sure she died?”

  I tried not to think about that. “Well, no, but...”

  “You lost her, but she didn’t pass over.”

  I blanched. “She’s a vampire too?”

  Gunhilde shook her head. “No, no. Supernaturals cannot become vampires.”

  “But vampires are supernaturals.” I canted my head, shifting the silver strands unattractively tousled into a rat’s nest during our Pegasus flight or whatever Torgny was. I couldn’t remember what the vamp I’d met yesterday, Tony Biscotti or whatever mob-vamp’s name was, had said about that. Clearly, he wasn’t human anymore. So, he had to be a supe, right?

  The valkyrie’s face scrunched up, causing the scar on her cheekbone to pucker. She was as much a warrior as those she reaped. “In a sense. They start as human, so they’re not quite the same as a regular supe. That’s why they’re not... encouraged.

  “Your mother used to call them unnaturals.” Her face broke out into a grin, stretching the scar tissue in the other direction so that it pulled into a grotesque indent. Instead of detracting from her formidable appearance, it just made her look more badass. I wondered how she got it. “The nickname was a favorite amongst the first Harbingers of Death teams. You know what they did, right?” She looked sharply at me, and Torgny copied the stare.

  “Yeah.” I retreated under the glare. “They hunted vampires. Seke told me.” My gaze dipped, and my stomach fluttered at the name.

  Stupid stomach. Maybe I’m just hungry.

  “They exterminated the vampires,” Gunhilde corrected with a slam of her fist to the dresser to punctuate her point.

  I jumped, bouncing slightly on the bed. Torgny didn’t so much as flinch. The urge to shoot a spit-wad or paper airplane at him rose. Was he ever taken by surprise?

  “Vampires aren’t supposed to exist. They’re humankind gone wrong. Like a plague of parasites.”

  I nodded. That’s when they first became a major problem, I remembered: the Black Death. There were too many people dying... and the unbanded harbingers couldn’t keep up with the demand. The HD was formed to keep a better handle on sorting souls ASAP… and not missing any.

  The first ones fixed the vamp outbreak. The later ones — like the HDPU — stopped that disaster from happening again.

  I frowned. “If they exterminated them, then why did I meet a vampire yesterday? What is my mom doing with a vampire? Because I don’t have visions of the past,” I reminded the room at large. It would be reasonable that a vamp had gotten hold of her when she was hunting them in the 1300s, and the scene would have made sense for that time period, especially with the candles. But we’d been on the run centuries later when she ‘died.’

  Unless... I’m worse at being a banshee than I thought and I’m mixing up visions and a weird case of narcolepsy with vivid dreams...

  Denial was keeping me calm. I wasn’t sure I wanted to believe that the dream had been a vision and the woman in it had been mom. If that was her — if she was alive — then so much was wrong with that.

  “She’s been alive... this whole time?” My wall of defense began to crack. “Shit.” I pounded the bed. It had less impact than Gunhilde’s fist on the dresser. “I knew I should have looked for her. Dad searched, but...” My head jerked up. “Is my dad alive too? Maybe he’s with her.” Not that I wanted him kidnapped by vamps either.

  Torgny gave me an unfathomable look as my attention volleyed hopefully between Gunhilde and the horse shifter.

  “Your father... he was human,” Gunhilde finally spoke as if that explained it all when really it just raised more questions.

  “You knew my dad too?”

  Gunhilde didn’t answer me. “Based on what you said you heard in the vision, your mother is being kept for her supernatural abilities.” Her expression softened. Now that seemed wrong on her chiseled features, unlike the scars. She was all hard angles and shadowed planes. Pity was not a good look for her.

  She didn’t need to say the rest. A human wouldn’t be useful to vampires except for exsanguinating. I blocked that out. “What abilities? What are they using her for?” I shot to my feet and began to pace the small pathway between the beds, agitation rising. I shook out my hands, trying to dissipate the nervous energy.

  Tony the Vamp had said they killed all the vamps… No, he’d said some killed all the vamps. His people had been taking out the banshees the other vamps had acquired. Others… the other faction used banshees but for what? Evidently, he’d missed mom, unlike he thought. I might not be the last banshee...

  “The abilities I’m here to work on with you,” the valkyrie replied brightly.

  I wasn’t sure that was my priority anymore. Not now. If mom really was alive, if she was being held by a faction of vamps… I needed to help her. How?

  I marched up to Gunhilde’s steel-toed boots, turned, then passed by Torgny’s unmoving legs to the nightstand, then repeated my track. A few swings at the punching bags in the bunker’s gym would do me some good right now. Hell, I bet I could take on Raven in my current state. Might be satisfying to take a few swings at Seke, too.

  The god of assholery had swooped in to rescue and woo me and, in the next moment, acted all surprised when I was hurt and angry that he was keeping secrets from me. Then, he left when I told him to — I had mixed feelings on that obedience. Shouldn’t he fight to stick around? And to top it all off, he tattled on me and sent this scary-ass woman to do what I told him I didn’t want to do. And what was this shit about knowing my mom? Knowing my mom’s friends? But never saying anything before now. I might have found out earlier that my mom was still out there if he’d gotten me in touch with Gunhilde before now.

  My hatred flipped faster than I could follow, hating him for interfering and then hating him for not doing enough.

  Obviously, Mom had bound my powers for a reason. And now that I’d seen what I’d seen, I knew partly why. She didn’t want me to be tracked and nabbed. I could be just like her, used for my abilities.

  Don’t get caught.

  I didn’t want to be a banshee. My mom didn’t want me to be a banshee. But I couldn’t just... leave her there. Turning my back on the supernatural world, on the HD, meant turning my back on her.

  Never go back for anyone. You’re more likely to put yourself in danger than save someone. Dad’s lessons were never altruistic like Seke’s.

  “Can you go get her? Can we send a team to save her?” If someone equipped to handle this situation went, someone who hadn’t just figured out she was a supe and still hadn’t gotten a handle on her abilities...

  Gunhilde’s eyes were on my lip where I was flicking my ring back and forth with such intensity that it clicked against my teeth. “I know some Vikings without front teeth. It is not a good look.”

  I tossed her a scathing look but suspended my actions. Not only did she know my mom, but she was taking it upon herself to act motherly. I resisted complaining. Saying I wasn’t a child anymore would contradict my intention and make me seem petulant.

  “Well?” I demanded. With my hands on my hips, I radiated do
minance and decisiveness. At least, I hoped I did. “Can you contact the director or someone to send one of those vampire-slayer teams?” Seke certainly wasn’t a part of it anymore — nor was my mom, for other reasons. “Who’s on those teams now?” I pictured a cute blond chick in high school holding a stake and making snarky wisecracks. “Let’s get in touch with them.” Did they use cell phones? How did the director contact Seke? I really didn’t want to have to call him to do the deed.

  If it meant saving my mom, though, I’d pull my foot out of my mouth to ask him for assistance.

  Torgny stood, towering over me. “No.”

  Well, I’d felt powerful until his massive bulk literally belittled me. “What do you mean no?!” I started heatedly. His stature and hard expression were kindling my defensive nature.

  “No,” he repeated. “We cannot send a ‘vampire-slayer team.’” His brow rose when he used my terminology, the vernacular sounding pedestrian with his deep timbre.

  “Why not?”

  “Because they no longer exist,” Gunhilde said simply. I heard a crunching sound as she leaned back against a mirror adhered to the wall behind her. Her armor screeched like nails on a chalkboard as she settled against the glass. There was probably a scratch there now. I hoped I wouldn’t have to pay damages. Then again, that could go on Seke’s card too. He was the one who’d sent the valkyrie here. He could be responsible for her actions. “They were disbanded and new teams formulated once the swarm had been taken care of. Everyone had thought they were gone.”

  I blinked. Seke hadn’t seemed that shocked when I told him about the vampire in the druid’s house.

  Damn that god. He’s keeping things from me, again.

  Gunhilde spread her hands out. “We had everywhere covered. Vamps shouldn’t be forming when the Harbingers of Death are taking care of deceased souls.”

  “Well, obviously they’re not, are they? There are... holes or something.” My temper was flaring. Feeling cornered and helpless was not something I was comfortable with after my childhood training.

  Never send someone else in your stead. You are worth ten of them.

  The only one I can trust is myself. Yeah, got it, Seke. I marched to the door.

  “Where are you going?” The valkyrie sounded more curious than annoyed.

  Turning with my hand on the knob, I flashed a confident smile. “I’m going to get her myself.”

  Surprising me, Gunhilde grinned and rubbed her hands together. “I was hoping you would say that. Let’s go.” When she hopped off the dresser, the mirror was thankfully still affixed to the wall, albeit with a lengthy scratch leading into a spider-web splinter of cracks in the bottom corner. “Ready, Torgny?”

  “Wait a minute. You’re coming?” I blinked.

  The fierce warrior rubbed a hand on my head, worsening the rats’ nest problem. “Course, little one. Enid was my friend. And like I said, I was sent here to help you learn how to use your abilities. What better way to do that than with an actual mission?”

  The “sent here” part was like sandpaper against my heart. Then again, a flying horse dude would be helpful. Much cheaper than the bus even if my stomach would hate me.

  “Fine. Giddyup, horsey.” I clicked my tongue and flicked my arms as if they held long reins while backing away. I wasn’t stupid enough to make the joke with my back to him.

  Torgny glowered darkly.

  Hope sparking my spunkier side, I blew him a kiss and then pulled open the door.

  It slammed shut. I stared at Gunhilde’s palm flat on the door over my head.

  “First things first,” the wise valkyrie said, that scar popping in stark relief against her skin. “We need to know where we are going. Time to put on your vision hat, banshee.”

  I turned back, my mouth agape. “I’m going to find where the vamps are?” Where my mom was? “I can do that?”

  Torgny folded his arms. A tiny slant to his mouth that must have been a smirk made him look smug. “You have much to learn.”

  Dammit. Seke would get his way after all.

  I hesitated for only a second. I still didn’t have to join the HD, though. After all, Gunhilde said she and her... horse partner guy were independent. “Okay. Let’s do this banshee thing.”

  20

  “It’s easier to channel specific people when you have something of theirs to focus on, though being emotionally tied to a target helps immensely. Lucky for us, you have the ring. So, go ahead, and get that out… What?” Gunhilde drew up short, apparently having noticed my grimace.

  “I don’t have it.”

  You could have heard a pin drop; the silence in the room was so complete. My Norse visitors seemed to be having a hard time embracing the concept, so I elaborated. “I needed money. I was on my way back here after selling it when… you know,” I explained, feeling defensive though not sure why. “Why does it matter anyway? It was just a ring that Seke left behind when he bailed.”

  I’m not bitter at all…

  Gunhilde swore in some throaty Scandinavian tongue. “The ring was your mother’s.”

  What?! In the wake of her proclamation, I stood stunned and speechless, waiting for my faculties to return to me.

  “I’m not sure why Seke had it all these years, but it was a Celtic heirloom that had been in her family for centuries. The ring mattered because it was hers.” Gunhilde fumed, pacing the cramped space like a caged lion.

  My mind was a puddle of goo. Not only was my mother alive, but she was being held against her will by vampires. Still more, a gorgeous, priceless ring turns up by way of my estranged... boss — I tossed out any other word for him — and now, it turns out to be the only heirloom I could have of my mother? And what did I do with the inherited possession Seke had returned to me? I sold it. At a considerably lower value than it was worth, too.

  “Shit. Shit! I need to get it back. I still have the money he gave me. We’ll just head back over there, and I’ll explain.” I wrung my hands as I spewed my plan anxiously, pacing the discolored carpet in furious lines, passing Gunhilde in her own agitated march.

  How could I have been so stupid? Why hadn’t Seke told me what it was?

  I flung aside the blame, the guilt eating at me.

  “I’m not sure that will work, but it is worth a try,” Gunhilde answered dubiously.

  With a skeptical look toward her equinesque partner, she gathered herself and moved toward the door. Torgny waited for me to pass him before falling into line at my back to exit the room.

  “If Torgny transforms, we can cloak you and fly to the shop.” The valkyrie looked back at me with questioning eyes.

  I appreciated that she asked. Flying — in any form — was not my favorite mode of transportation, but considering that time was likely of the essence, I was all about efficiency.

  Conceding, I watched as the large, broody male poofed into a large, broody stallion. As if it were necessary to complete the shift, he leaned his nose down toward the pavement then arched it back up toward the sky, shaking his long head and neck back and forth. Mane flying like a cover model, he returned to his proud stance, head held high and ears twitching toward where Gunhilde and I stood.

  “Show off,” she muttered with a smile.

  My eyebrows shot toward my hairline when Torgny suddenly folded a front leg, leaning his weight back toward his rear so that he knelt with the other front leg extended, like in a full-on bow. His soft nose touched the pocked pavement.

  Gunhilde, apparently accustomed to the action, strode confidently toward her steed, grabbed a handful of wavy, black mane, stepped up onto the bent foreleg, and threw a leg over Torgny’s wide back. Sitting comfortably astride her beast, Gunhilde reached a hand out for me.

  Here goes nothing.

  The moment my fingers touched hers, Gunhilde pulled me behind her so that I sat bitch behind her on Torgny’s broad back. Without being asked to do so, I wrapped my arms around my new mentor’s metal middle and let out a steadying breath.

 
“Ready?” Gunhilde asked, a tint of humor coloring her voice.

  Do not let people see your fear. It only gives them a means to defeat you.

  My eyes opened with new determination. I was going to rock this shit. Then, I was going to get my mother’s ring back and use it to have a vision so I could save her. In short, I was getting my mother back.

  No sooner had I nodded than I was flung backward, only barely keeping my seat because I had a death-grip on my hostess. Torgny’s powerful body lunged into motion, galloping forward. Air raced across my skin, blowing my long hair in our wake like a silver cape. I had a fleeting thought that maybe we appeared like a superhero to the naked eye before the heavy clopping sound of hooves against asphalt suddenly disappeared. The jarring motion traveling from my ass up through my teeth ceased entirely. I gasped in awe as we swiftly left the ground to rise five, ten, twenty feet into the air and higher still.

  My eyes snapped shut. I did the same with my lips, hoping to keep from doing to Torgny what I’d done to Stone.

  In what seemed like the blink of an eye, attesting to the speed of traveling by flying horse, we were descending toward the rundown corner shop I’d visited such a short time before —back when I had no realization the object in my pocket would be priceless to me. I couldn’t wait to relieve myself of the money bulging my pockets if it meant getting the ring back.

  A few clopping steps slowed our momentum once back on the ground, and Torgny halted at the rear of the pawnshop, waiting for his passengers to disembark before swiftly reverting to broody man status.

  Since I was no longer in physical contact with the pair, they assured me I was visible, and I trucked around the building to enter at the barred front door.

  The overhead bell dinged loudly to announce my return, but I decided to make a little noise myself as well. I didn’t care that someone else was in there, attempting to hock an item not nearly as shiny as what I wanted to get back. As far as I was concerned, I was the only one in here who needed addressing.