My confidence seemed to waver as his words rang in an unwelcome echo of beliefs I once held. Despite my best effort to mirror Ian’s contemplative pose, I could do little more than nod and attempt a reply which sounded hollow even to my ears. “Yes. We are the ones who conduct its dark orchestra.”
“You speak the words, but lack conviction.” Ian smirked and resumed his stroll. “Tell me, how long has it been since you relished a kill? Savored the taste of blood without the weight of your conscience resting on your shoulders? Peter, we are the sovereigns. They rule from their ivory towers only because we allow them to. We should be their gods. We are the ones who determine when they live and how they die.” The look he shot from across his shoulder bore a deliberate gravity to it. “This is why things are going to change soon.”
My blood ran cold. With a single evocation, Ian made the hair on the back of my neck stand upright, forcing me to draw in a steadying breath. Flashes of Monica in peril raced across my mind as though the Fates were bound to unravel me on the spot. I struggled to regain my composure, rounding a corner with him and approaching a set of double doors which mirrored the ones downstairs. “Perhaps you are right,” I said, “But we could not begin to accomplish this feat. Not with their Order and their seers watching us.”
“Yes. The humans do hold us under lock and key for now.” We paused in front of the doors, Ian’s fingers wrapping around their handles without losing his grip upon his cane. Still, he made no motion to open them. “This unfortunate reality has plagued our kind for more centuries than I’ve walked the earth. Their hold on us has always depended on their strength, though. And right now, they’re weaker than they’d like to admit.”
Ian finally pushed open the barriers before us, revealing a luxurious suite I could only assume was his private quarters. Before us sat a mahogany desk, its top completely devoid of any personal effects, save but for a short stack of books. To the right, I spied a short walkway leading to a lounging area and beyond that, another closed door which might have contained his bedroom. The carpet bore the same deep red tones with the walls a parchment color broken up by the occasional piece of art. The décor resembled the tastes expressed in the coven’s foyer.
My host rounded his desk and sat in a leather executive chair. I took my place across from him, in a more rigid chair with most of the back carved out of the wooden frame. “You believe them to be in a weakened position at the present?” I asked, shifting into a comfortable position and resting an elbow on an arm rest.
“Oh yes,” he said, placing his cane atop his desk but just out of reach. “Things you wouldn’t know about, I admit.”
“Enlighten me.”
“That has been my goal all evening.” Ian reclined back in his chair, both hands meeting in a steeple in front of his mouth. “Their Order is in disarray and has been for some time. Internal strife to rival the most brutal segments of vampire politics with almost as much posturing. Men are in power who don’t know how to rule. Champions aren’t fully trained before they’re sent out onto the battlefield. And their seers themselves have been lackluster at best.” He huffed derisively. “A formidable one hasn’t risen in decades. They all have no idea how to wield the power they possess. While their kills have been many, we’ve claimed many of them in return. They haven’t done a thing to deter our plans.”
“You would consider them ineffective, then?”
“To put it mildly.” His grin broadened. The look in his eyes took on a wicked glint, dancing with mischief and conviction all at once. “But then, we have the assassin. The one turned before he realized his human calling. The one not tarnished by the High Council and not tainted by its prejudicial laziness. Who killed first as the devil, then as a pilgrim on the path to redemption. The one threat we’ve had to worry about in some time now, and you appear in immortal form, Peter. Or… should I be addressing you as Flynn?”
Pretenses fell to the ground and shattered into dust. At once, the air shifted and the invisible chess board became almost tangible. The challenge had been levied with no choice but to be acknowledged. “Ian… we are better acquainted than I thought if you intend to start calling me Flynn.”
He snorted. “You seers always think you have the upper hand.”
The corner of my mouth curled upward as my nerves began to settle. “I merely wondered which of us would tip his hand first.”
“The dance was becoming a bore.”
“Agreed I was becoming loathe to play ignorant.”
Ian laughed, lowering his hands onto his lap. “You’re giving yourself far too much credit, I’m afraid. You’re still ignorant of many things.”
“Very well.” I flipped my hand, palm facing upward and fingertips pointed toward him. “Educate me as you’ve sought to all night. I have until sunrise to hear you regale me a story.”
“Let me guess, and then you’ll put me to death?” He shook his head, but his eyes never left mine. “Look at you, sitting in the lion’s den. Overconfident. Unprepared. If you truly understood the name of this game, you would’ve brought your little friends and your witch in with you and just been the executioner. Instead, you thought you could stand toe-to-toe as my equal. I expected more from the Black Rose Assassin.”
I bristled. “You sit in the presence of a seer, sir, not an assassin. And my motive? To know your plans against the Order.”
“Who sends you?”
“The Fates themselves. They have spoken to me of an evil which must be eradicated.”
Ian smirked. “And you think I’m that evil, just because your little troop of boy scouts has been following me around for the past few years like a swarm of pestering gnats?” His eyes shifted away. “If your Fates were the ones commissioning you, they should’ve revealed the true monster in this equation. Maybe they have, and you’ve been too stupid to understand it.”
I gritted my teeth. “Once again, I implore you to educate me.”
“You are the villain of your own story, Flynn, not me.” His gaze flicked back to me. “Make no mistake about it, seer, according to your natural order, I’m evil. I don’t pretend otherwise. But you don’t know true evil, dear boy. The sinister deeds I’m capable of injure only a few.” He sat forward in his seat and flashed a fanged grin. “The form of evil you fear will murder by the millions. He will restore our place onto the seat of power for this plane. And you could be the one leading his chariot into battle.”
I laughed. “You think yourself clever, attempting to unnerve me.”
“I think you blind to what’s right before your eyes.”
“Tell me truly how you plan to exact your scheme, Ian.”
Ian scoffed. “You ask me as though I’ll draw the map for you. And what’s the fun in that? No, I won’t be so idiotic, but I will tell you this much. You’re about to be shown the light.”
I furrowed my brow, catching his cobalt eyes flick to something behind me, but registering the action too late. Searing agony raced through my body, finding its genesis in my chest and provoking a pained scream past my lips. Shakily, I glanced downward, seeing my shirt darken even beyond its ebony hue, a patch of moisture spreading at the same speed as the agony radiating into my limbs. A glint of light reflected from the tip of a blade, lodged dangerously close to my heart.
Ian smirked when our eyes met again. “Good work, Virgil,” he said. “Do you think our supernatural turncoat realizes the severity of this discussion now?”
“I think he has an idea,” a male voice said, speaking behind me.
“I think you might be right about that.” Ian’s hands returned to their steepled position. “Now, Flynn, sit still and listen. You shifted your loyalties once, but if you want me to do something other than skin your human lover alive and wear her like a coat, you’ll shift them again. I promise you, if you decline this very gracious invitation I’m about to extend, only pain will follow from here. Look at the sword protruding from you again. The next blow won’t miss.”
As I looked down again,
one screaming, selfish demand rang through my mind, urgently summoning the one person who could hear it.
‘Monica, I am discovered and in mortal danger. ’
Chapter Eighteen
It had been nearly six years since I had wielded a scalpel instead of a sword, but I remembered my lessons from medical school enough to know how much in peril I truly was. If Ian wished to ensure I would not be going anywhere, he had found the perfect method.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my eyes shutting momentarily as I weathered another burst of pain. The blood seeping from the wound had saturated my clothing and could now be felt trickling down my chest. The longer Virgil kept the blade in place, preventing my injuries from healing, the dizzier I became. I gripped the arm rest tightly and glared at my foe. “I have no bloody idea how you expect me to listen while in the throes of excruciating pain.”
“Oh, I think you hear me just fine,” Ian said. “You’re still cogent enough to swear at me.” He stood, plucking his cane from his desk and pacing around to the other side, where he sat on the edge in front of me. The cane’s tip dug into the carpet, with both of his hands resting on the jewel on top. “Now, shall we discuss this former assassin and how he came to become a seer? Or should we start with how he became immortal in the first place?”
“Is there music to accompany this ballad?”
The end of his cane rose before I could register the action, the tip pressing against the area beside where the sword yet protruded. I cried out in response as another agonizing surge crippled me, causing my vision to swim. My fangs descended beyond my volition. “I am just angry enough at you robbing the vampire collective of Sabrina to make you suffer a little first, Flynn,” Ian said with a scowl. “Don’t try my already frayed patience.”
“It has a miserable ending,” I said, though the words sounded labored at best. Ian lowered his cane and I gulped in air, the reflex not doing anything to help alleviate the grief. “You see, that little caveat always seems to get left out of your grand narratives on the glories of being a vampire – the portion where our humanity is ripped from our souls.”
“Humanity is weak and we own eternity.” Ian leaned closer. “Now, I’ve insulted your ignorance, but let me switch tracks and actually compliment you. There are not many elders, let alone neophyte upstarts, who gain such a mythic reputation so fast. You witch undoubtedly gave me your human name when we were introduced and you’ve played along because you know word of your exploits has been told from sea to shining sea. I have to confess, if I didn’t already know about you and your coven, I might have been tricked. I might’ve even ignored those blazing green eyes of hers. But I know you, Flynn.” His lips parted in a cunning smile. “I know exactly what you could become.”
I issued a weak laugh. “If only my abilities had emerged on their own, you might have had a willing participant. Thankfully, my watcher found me first.”
“And she has poisoned your mind, dark one. But that doesn’t change what you once were and what you are today. A man with as killer of an instinct as you possess, housed with such potential. And yet, I’d be willing to bet you don’t know the half of it.”
“If I had the foggiest notion of what you spoke, I might know how to answer.”
“You are unique,” he said, raising his voice. “The first of your kind to walk the earth in centuries.” Reaching down to clasp my chin, he forced my eyes to meet his. I grimaced. “And yet, you are more than just some simpleton seer. The immortal kiss was given to a being with such power, the mortals should be dropping to their knees. And yet, you ran. You have no entourage of supernatural slaves in your train, all cogs of the Order’s design. They rejected you, didn’t they? Those short-sighted, weak, and temporary creatures, and yet you defend them when you could be so much more.”
Even past the unrelenting waves of pain, I winced internally at his words. “Do tell, Ian, what more could I be?”
“The leader of armies. The key to ushering in a new order. Your powers could unseat the humans and bring the vampire collective to the place where they belong. Dark child, you are not one of those putrid, decaying corpses any longer. You’re a vampire and could be a god among immortals. My former apprentice squandered you petulantly. The Black Rose Assassin? You could be a prince, if only you channeled your energies to the aid of your own kind.”
“Once again, you are late with your proposition. And as my older brother was oft to say… turnabout is fair play, Ian.”
Ian furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to respond, but stopped abruptly as he looked up. “Virgil, get down!” he yelled, gesturing toward his second-in-command with his free hand.
I only smirked, for I had sensed it coming.
Borrowing Ian’s vision for a brief moment, I saw the sai travel through the air, thrown from Mark’s hand and on a direct collision with Virgil’s back. He spun around to heed Ian’s warning, but the command had been issued without enough time for follow-through. It plunged into Virgil’s chest and within seconds, he was nothing but ash.
Ian knocked me from his perspective, but my smile lingered. “Now, who is the ignorant one?”
My captor sneered, but I did not afford him the chance to answer. In a glorious act of defiance, I focused as much of my energy as I could muster, and directed it all to Ian in one, large burst. The telekinetic wall which impacted him sent him flying over his desk, bringing him to the ground with a violent thud. For as drained as it left me, it gave my rescuers a chance to cover the remaining distance.
Monica assumed a place by my side. Ian came to a stand, his eyes flicking first to her before settling on the trio who walked up behind me. His gaze turned cold. “Turnabout, you say? Very well.” When he looked to me again, he smiled broadly. “Another time, then, Flynn.” I lifted my hand and attempted another surge of telekinesis, but the attempt fell short and the world blackened before coming back into focus again. In the short amount of time it took for me to recover my senses, Ian had dashed to a window and opened it. Wesley gave chase, but Ian jumped before my human accomplice could reach him.
Unable to move – a sword still protruding from my chest – I could only watch helplessly and then slump to the side once our antagonist escaped. The respite was short, however. I cried out again when someone ripped the sword from my back and began sliding forward, stopped only when Monica charged in front of me and caught me before I could fall. I smiled weakly at the blurry image of her face. “Thank you, love,” I said, “You were just in time.”
She rested my limp body against her shoulder and crouched, running her fingers through my hair in gentle strokes. “I was afraid we’d be too late. The guys had trouble with the guards downstairs.”
My eyes rolled back momentarily. I blinked twice, but could gain no more focus on the world than I already had managed to achieve. “You came. That is all that matters.” One of my hands shot up to clutch onto her torso, steadying myself before I fell atop her. “We must leave immediately. The moment the others are aware of what happened, they shall overwhelm us and I cannot fight. Where is…?”
Something moved in my periphery. I glanced up in time to see a figure vaguely resembling Wesley standing next to us. His eyes were upon me, though, and impairment or not, I could read the frown on his face beyond the shadow of a doubt. This had to be a sight. My immortal body sought to heal itself. My blood loss had not driven me past my senses, but the steady drumming of three pulses ensured retracting my fangs would be impossible until I fed. My hand shifted from Monica to the wound on my chest, and as I felt her lift, I wobbled to my feet and groaned with every movement. It took several tense seconds for me to stay upright.
“You son of a bitch,” Wesley said.
I sighed. “Wesley, do not allow your prejudices to blind you. We are all in grave danger. That man you just ended was one of his children and he will seek hell as recompense.” I narrowed my eyes until he came more into focus. “We can discuss this further in safer quarters.”
He refused to budge, howe
ver, shaking his head slowly in response. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the bastard who killed Lydia.”
“Wes, not now,” Monica said, struggling in the effort to keep me upright.
Wesley looked at her and laughed. One hand rose, a finger pointing at me. “And you’re helping him – the thing that killed your sister. Don’t you have any fucking sense of loyalty?”
I felt Monica tense against me. I shivered and clutched onto her, wavering enough to knock her from whatever angered comeback I knew was inevitable from my watcher. She looked up at me and I directed my words to her. “If we are to make it, we must leave now. The Council is in some form of danger. We must resolve our differences elsewhere, before we meet our ends first.”
“I’m not going anywhere with–”
“Oh, sod off, Wes,” Jesse said, entering the discussion. He became a multi-colored blur, walking to my other side and helping Monica take hold of me. His face was pointed, however, in the direction of his friend. “I seem to recall the sermon that Lydia was killed by the bloody vampires.”
“Well, what the fuck do you call that?!”
It might have been my imagination – perhaps wishful thinking on my part – but I swore I saw Jesse scowl at Wesley. “This is a seer. For better or worse, he’s what The Fates gave us and Monica trusts him. Don’t you trust her?”
“There are others coming,” Mark said, interrupting.
“Wesley, this is neither the time, nor the place,” I said. “Move now. Issue my execution order later.”
Wesley huffed, closing the distance between us and relieving Monica of the burden of my weight. He and Jesse both wrapped arms around my torso, enabling me to start the laborious task of walking. The initial extension of my arms around their shoulders flashed brilliant sparks of agony across my chest anew, but miraculously I was able to focus past even this. Fresh rivulets of blood trickled down my chest as I took my first steps.
Rebirth of the Seer Page 24
