Rebirth of the Seer

by Peter W. Dawes

  “Thank the Fates. If you think I’m a bad patient like this, you should see me struggling with a fever.” Her breath hitched once when I wiped away a patch of dried blood. I tried to ignore the sight of her gritting her teeth from my periphery. “So… Julian.”

  “Yes, Julian.” Reflexively, I frowned. “Knowing the Order as you do, what do you suspect he has been doing to keep himself occupied?”

  She exhaled slowly. “He’s probably spent the better part of the night combing the streets while a few members of the Council watch the airport and canvas around the train station. When we don’t show, they’ll keep someone by the airport tomorrow night while he settles on either the bus or the train station. He might even have a watcher helping him out with that.”

  “I know where he shall be.”

  Monica raised an eyebrow. “Which place is that?”

  “The train station. It is our most likely point of exit. Your Order must know we would not risk a public incident at the airport, especially with me so heavily armed. The bus leaves us limited as to where we could journey prior to sunrise and I would be better protected within the confines of a train.” I grimaced as a small amount of new blood rose to the surface of her wound, but managed to keep my fangs at bay.

  Mercifully, my watcher did not flinch this time when I dabbed at the wound. “I’m tempted to say we should stay put for another few days, but they’ll be keeping everything under surveillance for at least another week.” She sounded nonplussed, but I assumed the casual air to be deceptive. “They’re probably even making calls to all the car rental agencies as we speak. Not that I’d want to drive in my condition.”

  “Wise.” My frown deepened as I considered her words. “We do not have a week, as you suggested before. Something about magical wards?”

  She nodded. “Even if the magical wards don’t set them off, they’ll haul in whatever sorcerers they need to shake us out of hiding. They might even call in another seer to help Julian out.”

  “That sounds decidedly like the last thing we need.” Setting the washcloth down, I reached for an alcohol swab. I tore open the packet and perked an eyebrow at Monica. “This is going to sting.”

  “Bring it.”

  Hesitating only for a moment, I applied the antiseptic. She tensed, but it did nothing to deter me. “So, either we slip away like shadows – which shall be nigh-unto-impossible given your current state – or we prepare for a confrontation regardless of whether we leave now or later.”

  “Unfortunately, that pretty much sums it up.” Her eyes clenched shut, the hand not holding the blanket in place gathering a fistful of sheets. “Fuck, would you hurry that up? I’m about to offer you my neck.”

  “I told you, I have already eaten.” I finished disinfecting the wound and tossed the swab toward an adjacent garbage can. Reaching for fresh bandages, I covered the injury and secured the gauze into place with a few pieces of medical tape. “There you are, my dear. Hopefully, this shall speed along the healing.”

  “Thank you.” Monica rotated her shoulder twice before pulling the blanket over the rest of her body. With a sigh, she settled back against her pillows again. “So what’s our plan of attack?”

  I shrugged. “Given the fact that evasion is a moot point, we should settle on which point of departure would be best for a confrontation.”

  “Admit it, you just want to beat the shit out of Julian.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  Monica smirked and shut her eyes. “My personal recommendation is that we try to slip out of here by train tomorrow evening. I have a contact who’s been carrying on about some sort of nonsense out where he is. He would give us a place to hide.”

  “Where?” I furrowed my brow. “And would that be a wise idea, for you to force yourself mobile so soon?”

  “We don’t have much of a choice. Concerning where…” She sighed and opened her eyes again. “You don’t know how to rein in your thoughts enough for me to tell you. If you intend to face any member of the Order, I don’t want them reading your mind and following us. It was bad enough me having to block your thoughts while you fantasized about ripping Julian’s neck open.”

  “You cannot fault me for desiring a decent meal,” I said with a wink. Just as swiftly as I permitted the moment of levity, however, I sobered and nodded. “So, our destination is to be kept from me until we disembark. Very well, then.” A moment of silence settled between us. My mind circled around solutions, coming back to muscle memory as though I was plotting another assassination after what felt like an extended sabbatical. The notion forced me into the old, familiar posture and a plethora of scenarios played out in my thoughts. An unmeasured amount of time passed before I realized I had glanced away and Monica was now staring at me. She raised an eyebrow at me.

  “You know, I’m trying so hard to stop reading your mind,” she said. “But then I lose you like that and you get me really curious.”

  I grinned coyly and indulged in a deep, steadying breath. “I was simply musing on my training. As tantalizing as the prospect of making bloody work of him might be, I believe I might have an acceptable alternative.”

  “I’m all ears, Flynn.”

  “Provoke a fight. While you procure our tickets, I shall lead him on a merry chase and corner him somewhere out of sight.”

  “And then you’re just going to knock him out?”

  “Ensuring he sees precisely who attacked him and why. So long as we keep him alive, he can report to his superiors that we got away. And when he reads my thoughts, he shall find them blissfully bereft of our destination.”

  “Good thing I already cleared out my checking account.” The look in her eyes turned troubled. “Are you sure this is the best idea?”

  “It is the one which achieves all our ends.”

  “Yeah, but you seem to be deriving way too much pleasure from the idea of facing Julian. Do I have to remind you he’s a master seer?” Monica frowned. I remained silent while she studied me in an unfamiliar manner, something which read of far more concern than I was used to her demonstrating. She sighed. “I really hate that you’re right about this being our best option, just so you know.”

  “Your worry has been registered. Shall I promise to behave?” The curl at the corner of my mouth turned devious.

  My watcher rolled her eyes in a much more characteristic response. “I swear you’re incorrigible.”

  I laughed and finally stood. “Come now, Monica, let us be brazen outlaws. We are fugitives, after all. If we wish to make our escape, a little blood might just be called for.”

  “I’m trying to make sure it’s not yours.”

  My smile lingered despite her stern look. “Permit me my capricious spirit. I am feeling more lighthearted than I have been in some days.”

  “Were you able to find what you were looking for?” A grin finally made a reluctant appearance.

  “Perhaps.” I smiled broadly. “You shall simply have to see when you have rested a trifle longer. If you plan on being on your feet tomorrow, I want you not to move from this bed tonight.”

  “Find me some food and we’ll talk.”

  “As you wish.” I turned to make my departure, but the sound of Monica clearing her throat forced me to glance back in her direction.

  She laughed as I perked an eyebrow. “Oh no, you don’t,” she said. “I’ll rest and I’m still demanding something to eat, but you have to promise you’ll show me when you’re done.”

  I sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Very well. I could hardly disappoint a lady.” With a nod, I strolled into the hallway, navigating to the room I had been assigned, in which I had not rested for better than a week, and stripped my suit jacket from my shoulders. As I stole one final look at it, I sensed the loss of an old friend, one which had accompanied me on far too many bloody excursions. “Fare thee well and thank you for the memories,” I said to it as I laid it on the bed.

  With that, I commenced in undressing. My black dress shirt fell
atop my jacket and after undoing my belt, my pants soon followed. I crossed the room to where I had draped two hanging bags and opened the lighter one first, producing a blood red shirt. It covered my torso within moments, and with crimson draped across my shoulders, black was soon to follow. A pair of black slacks slid over my legs with little effort, and the black belt I secured around my waist held them snugly in place. Pausing, I evaluated the first of the major changes. The uniform of a vampire hitman had fallen to what would now be the vestiges of a seer.

  Inside the second garment bag was a long, black, mandarin-collared coat with six buttons which ended at the waist. The flair of the bottom would be enough to conceal my sword and while my shoulder holster would now become antiquated, the interior pockets were more than adequate space for sheathed daggers to lie in wait. I lifted the coat, threading my arms through the sleeves. Snatching my katana from where I had propped it against the wall, I fastened it to my side and took in the full effect with a broad, fanged grin.

  I brushed lint from the fabric and straightened the folds of the coat. “If Julian wishes a fight between supernatural beings, he shall have it,” I said. “He best realize with whom he trifles, though. A killer I might be, but a formidable one who has tasted death many more times than a mortal like him ever shall.”

  With that, I went to mentally prepare myself for slipping not just into a new role, but a whole new perspective. Dualism; the cursed double nature I wore as I once did the gloves of an assassin. I might have been enslaved to immortality, but the part of me which was irrevocably vampire could at least be an asset to me now. A new set of shoes needed to be filled and I would do so one step at a time.

  Chapter Nine

  Together, we resembled the Bonnie and Clyde of the undead, me with my normally-pale visage and Monica with her sickly pallor. One gloved hand clutched onto my arm for support, but otherwise, my watcher remained steady as we traveled through Philadelphia. I could not help but to be surprised. While I expected her grip to be tight, her gait was confident with only one step misplaced along the way.

  She smiled up at me as if reading my thoughts. “Making no bones about it, Flynn,” she said. “This hurts like a bitch.” Her eyes shifted toward the city street in front of us. “Thank the Fates we’re almost there.”

  I smirked as we drew closer to the imposing monolith. The 30th Street Station, where public transportation and domestic travel converged. It would be my last sight in the city I had called home for nearly fifteen years. I paused with Monica as we approached the street corner. Only a bustling thoroughfare stood between us and our place of departure, yet I remained in place even when the traffic ceased and the walk sign lit to allow the pedestrians passage. My watcher’s eyes rose to study me. “What is it, Flynn?” she asked, even though she could easily comb my mind for the answer to her question. For a moment, I wondered if she had finally adopted the policy of permitting me the sanctity of my thoughts.

  It made me appreciative of the gesture. There were some matters I still wanted kept from her.

  Glancing down at her, I attempted a mental assessment of the woman who held onto my arm. The tired look in her eyes gave away how weak she was, but I lost the battle against a soft grin as I considered how well she hid it. Her traditional garments adorned her, including her black shirt, long, black skirt, and a red-colored scarf tied around her neck. The chilly breeze whipped its ends around, as though she wore a banner instead of an accessory. Matching colors. A sentimental sprite nipped at my demeanor, much to my chagrin.

  I swallowed it back and sobered with concern. “Shall you be able to enter without me?” I asked, shifting the bag Chloe gave me further up my other shoulder. A few knives and two spellbooks had joined the medical supplies and my old suit as the contents contained therein.

  “I’ll be okay.” She offered my arm a gentle squeeze, then allowed her gaze to shift to the building which stood before us. “Do you really think he’s out there?” she asked. “I can’t read any trace of him myself.”

  I nodded, my attention shifting as well in time for the stoplight to turn red. “Yes, I am almost certain of it. The wind bears an ill omen to it, so if it is not him, it is another member of the Order.” My eyes found her again. “As much as Master Julian would like to think himself different than me, this is where I would anticipate my target. Allow the rats at the Council to scurry around the city, tracing anywhere in the area we might slip off to. I would be waiting for us to leave the entire region.”

  “And the airport would be out, for the reasons we discussed last night.”

  “They not doubt have a presence there, but any stalker worth his salt can anticipate the movements of his prey.”

  Monica nodded, a shiver afflicting her visibly. She groaned against it. “I need to get out of this cold before it kills me.” This time, when her eyes rose to meet mine, they possessed much more severity. “I trust you have a plan of attack.”

  “I always have a plan, my dear.”

  She rolled her eyes. I smirked as the traffic lights changed again, and led us across the street with the rest of the gathered throng at last. Our conversation fell into silence as we traversed from one corner to the next. We diverged from the pack of humans crossing with us, headed north of the entrance, and situated ourselves by one of the columns ornamenting the exterior.

  Monica released a breath as though she had been holding it, sending a billow of steam past her lips. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth in what I read as a continuing vestige of our discussion. “So, what’s my role in all of this?” she asked.

  I furrowed my brow. “Besides to stay out of harm’s way?”

  “Should’ve known you’d be thick about this.” She released her hold on my arm and turned to face me. One hand balled into a fist, settling on top of her hip. “Let me rephrase the question. What’re you going to be doing?”

  I sighed. Touching her good shoulder, I provoked her around again to face the train station and lifted my other hand to point further down the street. “This is the eastern front of the building. The main entrance on this side is where you shall enter, but I wish you to wait for my signal before doing so. Hide amongst the crowd, or duck into a shop if you need to, but do not approach the ticket counter until you see me dash for the opposite end of the station.” My hand lowered to my side again. Monica looked up at me as I glanced down at her. “After you procure our tickets, wait someplace safe. I shall call for you after taking care of Julian.”

  “I still think this is a bad idea.” She sighed, shaking her head, her expression sobering as I caught her eyeing the doors a few yards further down the street. “You’re just going to let him take a good look at you and then knock him out, right?”

  “I shall do my best to make it quick, but given the fact that I do not intend to kill him, this requires different tactics than I am used to employing.”

  “I already knew that.” Monica remained frozen in place, her eyes turning distant as something circled her mind in a very conspicuous manner. I watched her remain in this position for several seconds before she took a deep breath inward and shifted to face me again. This time, the look in her emerald stare bore a level of gravity to it. I perked an eyebrow as she lifted her good arm, her fingertips reaching to touch the side of my head. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “You’ll see in a moment.” Her eyes shut, and the air nearly electrified. I caught my breath as whatever she started doing tickled at the base of my skull. Her lips moved without producing a sound and in that moment, she hardly resembled the sickly girl with whom I had departed. For the briefest of seconds, she looked like a goddess.

  My eyes shut against my will and a shiver crept the length of my spine. A familiar feeling of files shuffling and being rearranged preceded a jolt which forced me to take a step backward. The action knocked her hand away. My lids flew open as Monica’s flitted upward. The color drained from her face again.

  She drew a deep breath inward and exhaled it slowly.
I blinked, fighting the compulsion to lift my sunglasses and rub at my eyes. My gaze found hers again, while my fingers thrust through the locks of my hair, smoothing them back as though whatever she had just done had ruffled my polished exterior. “What the devil was that?” I asked, my voice subdued.

  Monica swallowed hard and managed a labored grin. “Helping you maintain a little clarity.” Her expression sobered. “Guard your thoughts, Flynn. If Julian can see past them now, you’re not trying hard enough.”

  Brow knitted in confusion, my mouth opened to issue some demand for explanation. Before the words could make their way out, though, Monica closed the distance between us and stood tip-toed, craning her neck until her warm lips touched the cool of my cheek. An aura surrounded the area where she had kissed even after she pulled away and this time, I swore I saw the sparks which had been missing a few moments ago. I could not determine what to say, even as Monica settled back on her heels and nodded. “That makes me feel a lot better about your well-being. Thank you for trusting me. Now, get in there and finish this so we can get the hell away from here.”

  My hand rose to touch my cheek. The corner of Monica’s mouth curled upward, her heel pivoting enough to twist the rest of her body and as she left me the sight of her back, I felt the need to speak something – anything – into the space between us. “Monica!” I called, for the lack of anything better.

  She turned enough to line me in her sight.

  I shook my head, the smile on my face a foreign sensation. “You unnerve me, witch.”

  She laughed, and lilted away with our eyes lingering until the crowd between us blocked one from the other’s view. I sidestepped enough to watch her enter the building and indulged in a steadying breath to compensate for the abrupt change in the air. Muddled thoughts cleared and while I sought refuge behind the nearest pillar, my eyes found the Philadelphia skyline and traced the roof of each impressive piece of architecture. My vision had not changed, yet something about the sight felt different, as though the fingers which rubbed against my palm possessed a force which had not been present before. I calmed, refocused, and invited a touch of the devil into my footsteps again.