Had I a serial killer’s debts, I might have been more at peace with myself, for then I could have numbered my victims. As it stood, enumerating each being I had killed – human and vampire – would have filled a volume thick enough to rival sacred scripture. All would have testified toward five years of debauchery, and painted vivid tapestries of varying consequence; from the evil I unintentionally rid the world of to the beauty I deprived it. Each voice chimed inside my head, one by one, and echoed to a cacophonous racket the more time I spent mired in thought. They afforded me troubled rest. They permitted me little ease. And the ones who shouted the loudest were those blessed souls I had stopped to know before I snuffed out their candles.
For as much as I knew lingering in such notions could prove to be my undoing, I could not stop myself. The guilt brought about by Monica’s injury had forced something to the surface which had begun to bubble when I first lamented Robin’s death. One might have argued to me, ‘Flynn you were merely doing what it was in your nature to do,’ as I took my nightly victims, but when my brother turned to ash and my watcher nearly bled to death, I could no longer excuse my deeds. I knew evil and knew it intimately. While it took Sabrina’s charms to bring out the worst in me, I still savored destruction with every fiber of my being. In some ways, I still missed it, and it was that inclination which let me know I was nowhere near safe enough to be trusted.
Monica stated time after time that I had no faith in myself. She was absolutely correct. I had no faith in that which had proven itself duplicitous. So long as I felt the detached demeanor of an assassin plague my steps, I could not delude myself into thinking the shackles which bound my inner demons would be enough. It left me wondering how a woman like Monica could be willing to risk her life for me.
I continued wallowing in these thoughts as I rose to check on her the following night. Approaching the door to her room, I leaned against the frame and regarded her for a few lingering moments in silence. Her eyes remained closed, but a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as though she sensed my examination. A sense of warmth rushed over me at the sight, a thaw settling across the chill of my soul seemingly despite myself.
It lingered as she spoke. “Have you slept any?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, the word produced with more hesitance than I had intended. “There came a point when my thoughts were not enough to prevent me from resting. The daytime drags even the heartiest vampire down.”
“I’ll bet.” Her eyes finally drifted open. “I think I’ve had more than enough sleep, though.”
“You have needed it.”
“I hate being so fucking invalid.”
I chuckled softly. Standing straight, I folded my arms across my chest and paced further into the room, maintaining a slow, sedate journey from the doorway to her bed where I paused at the foot. “You might not be able to rest for much longer.” The slight, upward curl my lips had begun evened out once more. “I have not detected anything foreboding in the air, but I am certain we need to make haste in departing.”
“Yes, we do.” She sighed. Taking a deep breath, she motioned to sit, which spurred me closer to her so I could help. A nest of pillows I had gathered during one of my insomniac fits lay on her bed, and after a brief adjustment they provided enough cushioning for her to settle upright. I sat beside her, waiting as she shut her eyes through an obvious wave of pain. It took several seconds for her to relax. “When I feel better, do I get to shove a stake through that bastard Lewis so he knows what this feels like?”
A laugh flew past my lips before I could stop it. The grin returned to Monica’s face as I said, “I certainly shall not stop you, should you deem it necessarily. If we are in the market for murder, though, I would have preferred to make a decent meal of it.”
“I’m inclined to let you have at him.”
“Do not tempt me.” I shook my head and sighed. “Those are the people responsible for preserving the natural order? I fear for humanity.”
“It’s not their fault. They’re ignorant and stuck in their ways.”
“I could say the same for vampires.”
“Good point.” Monica opened her eyes again and peered up at me. “But sometimes The Fates smile down on us and know when we need a savior.”
I frowned. “Please do not assign me the title of messiah. I am not fit for such a position.”
“How about we call you a hero instead?” I felt Monica’s hand graze mine, patting it twice before settling atop the back of my palm. As her fingers closed around me, I found myself drawing a reflexive breath inward, as though I had need of steadying myself. “We’re not done working on you yet,” she said. “You’ve got a lot to learn and I’m not through teaching it to you. When we’re finally someplace safe, we’ll have more time.”
My gaze shifted away for a moment before returning to meet hers. “Should we make it out of here in one piece,” I said.
“What’s this? Flynn the well-trained assassin losing his confidence?”
The question caused me to scowl. Monica giggled, squeezing my hand when she saw genuine irritation in my eyes. “I’m glad to see that ego of yours is still intact.” Sighing, she allowed the moment of levity to pass. As I saw the corners of her lips smooth even, my facial expression softened. “We’re a mess. I’m not going to deny that,” she said. “Two of the most pitiful creatures on the planet.”
I nodded, lifting my other hand and gesturing toward her injured chest. It hesitated, though, lowering slowly as I thought the better of what I had been tempted to do. “I should eat something before I examine that,” I said, explaining.
“Believe it or not, I’m feeling better. Hard to tell, I know, but the pain’s gone from ‘God, just kill me now,’ to ‘slightly more annoying than getting a tooth pulled without anesthetic.’” She frowned when she saw the concerned way I looked at her. “We’re not going to be able to wait for me to get one hundred percent. I’m going to have to pop some pain killers, grit my teeth, and get a move on soon.”
“Give it another day. If twenty-four hours’ worth of rest has aided your condition, another twenty-four could only benefit you further.” Slipping away from her touch, I came to a stand and adjusted my suit jacket. The sight of the obsidian fabric hanging from my slender frame created a spark of thought, however. The self-evaluating pause I indulged in had to look narcissistic, but I lost myself within the strangest notion that I had dressed in this manner and no other ever since becoming Flynn. The fine linen and hand-tailored craftsmanship was a far cry from the first black suit I wore. Yet, the only divergence I had indulged in five years had come from my newest sword.
The red and black intertwined generated a burst of inspiration. My eyes darted to Monica and she grinned once more, nodding as she read my mind. “I like that idea,” she said.
“Yes. You did tell me I have an identity to assume, did you not?”
“I did, indeed.”
“That settles it.” A smirk spread across my lips like wildfire. “I would like to avoid returning to the hospital. Considering I did not have a chance to say goodbye to Chloe, I might be able to coax her for some medicine. If she assents, I shall look into –” I adjusted my suit jacket’s collar in an exaggerated fashion. “– other matters as well.”
“That’s a step up from her thinking of you as a monster.” Monica shut her eyes, her smile turning placid. “I’ll be fine, before you ask. You go on ahead and get things sorted out. I’ll rest while you’re gone.”
“You are certain I can leave you alone?”
“Positive.” She opened one eye to look at me. “Anyone who’d try to break in would only hear the quiet snoring of a witch. Then, when they got close enough, I’d blast them into next Thursday.” Her lid closed again, her hands settling on her lap. “Just be sure to arm yourself. He already fired a shot at you. I’d say that gives you enough excuse to throw a dagger into his shoulder.”
“I best not, lest I miss and get his chest. On accident, of course.”
/>
“Of course.”
I turned to face the hallway, motioning to make my departure. I made it to the doorway before her voice halted my progress. “Flynn?”
Pivoting, I looked at her and perked an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Her eyes drifted open once more. “Red and black. It’s that dualism thing you keep chewing on, isn’t it? You know – the same dualism even human beings deal with, too?”
A wan smile touched the corners of my mouth. “Not precisely the same, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. Rest now, and do not concern yourself with my trivial debates. Perhaps we might sort through them later, when you have recovered.”
“Fair enough.” She nodded, freeing me to consummate my departure. Strolling down the hall, I found myself pondering Monica’s attempt to illustrate the root of my introspection through my colors.
I entered the living room and walked to where my katana angled against the wall. Taking it in hand, I was struck by the recollection of the first moment I laid eyes on it. My heart was deemed unworthy to own it at the time, and the swordmaker had been absolutely correct. The manifestation of my evil was illustrated when I ended both his life and his beloved’s. Their deaths, and countless others, could be laid at nobody’s altar but my own.
Black as death. My thumb caressed the ebony strand of the braid which decorated the hilt, pausing when it crossed over onto the one which was crimson. Red as purging fire. It hardly seemed the yin to my yang, but either way I looked at it – assassin or seer – I was called to be a killer. The blade would be the point of connect between my instincts and my calling.
Red and black. The duality of Peter and Flynn.
Why not embrace it and see where it led?
With a nod, I strapped the blade to my side and secured it into place. I placed a call to Chloe afterward, entreating my old friend to be of service to us again. Within minutes, the front door shut behind me and I emerged onto the city streets, bent to see if a change of pace would assuage my soul enough to realize my destiny.
Even if I did not quite know yet what this destiny was supposed to entail.
***
I leaned against an adjacent building, smoking a cigarette while watching her approach. She strolled cautiously, checking over her shoulder every other step, and I laughed when she closed within earshot. Her eyes shot toward where I stood and narrowed at the expression on my face. “Oh sure, laugh at the lady risking her neck to conduct some seedy back alley transaction,” Chloe said.
Try as I might, I could not purge the smile from my face. “I could only hope to see you again, my old friend,” I said, lowering my voice for her benefit.
“Yeah, well, this life you live now’s too adventurous for my taste.” She adjusted a black bag slung around her shoulder and sighed. “I sure as hell wouldn’t like sneaking around knowing there were people wanting my head on a platter.”
“It is not my preferred existence.” Taking one last drag from my cigarette, I exhaled the smoke through my nostrils and flicked the end away. “Personally, I would prefer some place secluded with an attractive companion, but such is not to be my lot.”
“Most people like deserted islands.”
“Could you see me working on a tan, Chloe?”
She winced. “Probably not anymore.” As she studied me, a grin reluctantly peeked out of hiding and a chuckle followed swiftly in its wake. “I’ve lost my marbles,” she said. “I’m making jokes with a vampire. A few weeks ago, you all didn’t even exist.”
“Strange days we find ourselves in. The both of us, actually.” The grin on my face faded, given over to a more serious expression. “I promise you I am not involving you in our mess without good cause. Monica needs to be well for us to continue with our work.”
“I know.” Chloe lowered the bag from her shoulder, patting it before setting it onto the ground. “Everything you asked for’s in here with a few extras. The pharmacy’s going to wonder where two different kinds of antibiotics and a handful of assorted painkillers got to, but if you don’t tell, then I won’t.”
“My lips are sealed.” Reaching for the bag, I secured its strap around my shoulder. “If the pharmacists are anything like how they used to be, they shall assume the residents got their blue pills and red pills mixed up again.”
“And the residents will figure the interns misplaced a few packs of gauze and tape and an entire suture kit.” Her eyes met mine in a deliberate manner. “Refrigerate the two pints of Type A as quickly as possible, though. And you’re welcome.”
My brow furrowed. “You did not have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t, but I can’t exactly bake you cookies any longer.” Sighing, she broke eye contact with me in favor of glancing toward the roof of a neighboring monolith. “Something I learned about the world years before I ever met you. You can’t go fighting gravity and you can’t change reality no matter how hard you try. My mother always told me the best thing you can do is have a sense of humor about it.”
I nodded, but continued looking at her in the same manner. “Be that as it may, I know how hard this has all been to swallow. “ My expression relaxed, a tenuous silence falling between us as I drew a deep breath inward and exhaled it slowly. My gaze shifted away, flicking nervously from the ground before returning to Chloe. I hesitated. “Might I ask a question of you, Chloe?”
She shrugged. “I guess so?”
“I recall the last time we spoke… I asked if you still eyed me as though expecting Peter to burst from the seams and overtake me. You insisted you knew better, but…” I trailed off.
A soft smile touched the corners of her lips. “You’re asking if I meant it.”
“More or less, I suppose.”
Chloe studied me for a moment before nodding once. “I do see you lurking behind those eyes, Peter. Sunglasses or not, there’s a look you get that makes me think of that wet-behind-the-ears doctor I once knew. Just think of it this way, if you need another way of looking at it, no monster would’ve rushed that injured girl to the hospital bleeding out the way she was. The same thing triggered inside you that would’ve triggered if someone hurt Lydia. That’s the Peter I knew.”
“I suppose so.” I averted my eyes for a moment, my gaze turning distant. “Human emotions are so counterintuitive sometimes, are they not? That any of us would throw ourselves in the midst of danger for somebody else. It is contrary to any sense of self-preservation.”
“They call that compassion.” Chloe reached to pat my arm, drawing my attention back to her. “Peter was good at that.”
“I do not understand it in the same manner, though. It is like looking through a glass darkly.”
“Try to figure out human emotions and it’ll just drive you crazy. They aren’t here to make sense, just to make us better people.”
“If you insist.” I flashed a quick grin as Chloe lowered her hand again. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes while I simply shrugged. “I shall simply take your word for it. In the meantime, I must return to Monica.” Hitching the black bag’s strap further up my shoulder I patted it once. “I am in your debt, my friend. Should our paths ever intersect again, I shall do my best to repay your kindness.”
I extended my hand toward Chloe, offering it for her to shake. She ignored it, however, and enclosed her arms around me, pressing her body to mine as I fell awkwardly into her embrace. For as much as the compulsion to rip myself away overwhelmed every ounce of my being, I held still and even managed to wrap an arm around her.
Her smile was evident in her voice. “I want you to promise me one thing, Flynn,” she said as she finally pulled back.
“What would that be?” I asked, fighting the urge to dust off my suit jacket. I allowed my arm to fall to my side before I could succumb to the temptation.
“If Peter ever does find a way back, please have him pay me a visit. I’d like to say hi to him again, for old time’s sake.”
The sigh escaped my lips before I could stop it. “You women and
your romantic notions. Chloe, I told you–”
“And I said miracles can happen, okay? You and I’ll have to agree to disagree on this one.” Chloe flicked her hands as though to dismiss me. “Go on now. Get on with you, before that German man finds you and I get stuck in the middle of that nonsense on your account.”
“In the middle?” I paced backward, my hand returning to the duffel bag. “Such as not wishing to be aiding and abetting my thievery? Is that not what you said to me last time?”
She pointed a finger at me and scowled. “Boy, I don’t care if you’re a vampire. I’ll beat you like the redheaded stepchild I never had.”
“Consider me warned, dear.” With a quick wink, I turned to depart. Chloe’s eyes lingered on me throughout the entire trek, until I escaped her line of sight. After that, my only companions were the biting wind and the chill of the night.
They continued to accompany me throughout the duration of my personal errands. As I ventured around Center City, I reflected on departing from one thing only to begin another. Julian’s next move haunted my thoughts; carried with me even when I returned to the safe house and began the task of tending to Monica’s wounds. New bandages and fresh instruments littered the surface of her bed, arranged in a systematic manner with my watcher covering all but her injury and above with a blanket.
She spared a glance at me as I examined her stitches. “You’re surprisingly nonchalant about that,” she said.
I smirked. “Chloe provided a bit of nourishment with the rest of our contraband. I consider myself reformed. Two pints managed to sate my thirst rather well for once.”
“A far cry from punching holes in the wall.”
“At least a marked improvement.” My smile faded only as I concentrated more on the appearance of her wound. Gingerly, I swept a washcloth over the blemished skin and dabbed at two days’ worth of neglect. “It hasn’t become infected, at the very least. The antibiotics shall ensure that remains the case.”
Rebirth of the Seer Page 10
