Rebirth of the Seer

by Peter W. Dawes

  “Mark,” I said, capturing his attention as we entered the corridor. “I have a few knives, if the need arises.”

  He offered a reluctant grin. “If the need arises, vampire seer,” he said.

  I nodded, my vision swimming with the effort and telling me I needed to focus on the task at hand. Mark and Monica flanked us on both side at first, but then they stepped ahead of us as we rounded the corner and faced our first wave of antagonists. Mark clutched onto his weapons and Monica lifted her hands out in front of her. I did not need the clearer picture to imagine the display about to commence before us.

  A small pack of three had already made it up the stairs. They were felled by an incantation and two jabs of the sharp blades Mark held in his hands. We reached the top of the stairs, but as we descended no less than a dozen other immortals greeted us. Our escape had just become complicated.

  Jesse reached into my coat and pulled a dagger. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said.

  The knife disappeared into the chest of a vampire. The remainder of my daggers suffered similar fates and whatever we could not kill, we injured enough to break through to the other side. That sense of something being wrong surfaced through the battle; even in my infirmed state I wondered at how readily Ian’s minions were slain. Another chill crawled up my spine as we exited the building, something flickering in and out from the corner of my eye that I could not put my finger on.

  I was led to a waiting car before I could stop to question it.

  My body slumped against the window of the back seat, a few fleeting thoughts springboarding from one to another in my incapacitated state. The car belonged to Wesley. Monica and Jesse were sliding into the back seat. Two car doors slammed shut and the car lurched forward. My eyes lifted as my forehead remained pressed against the window, watching something I could not be certain I was seeing through the fading world around me.

  Standing atop the coven’s roof was Ian, watching us depart. He lifted his hand and pointed in our direction. I narrowed my eyes at the gesture.

  Then, I finally made good on passing out.

  ***

  “God, how stupid am I? Right in front of my nose and I ignored it. Of course he’s a different seer, Wesley. We both know how often two seers rise back-to-back in the same fucking area.”

  “Wes, can you shut up about this for longer than two seconds?” Female voice. Must be Monica. “Yes, I didn’t tell you the truth and this is exactly why. You wouldn’t have shut up long enough to hear the full story.”

  “Yeah, and what full story was that? You’re on the Order’s shit list aren’t you?”

  “Starting from the beginning might be better?”

  “You mean the part where he murders Lydia?”

  “He’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of. What counts is that he has a job to do and he’s doing it.”

  I moaned, suffering the discomfort of being carried in an awkward position. A pair of hands held me under my arms and another pair had my ankles. My waist bent until my knees hovered above my sternum and gravity exacerbated the burning in my chest. It only worsened when I felt the man holding my top half start ascending a flight of stairs. “Please, put me down,” I said, my voice a whisper. “I am begging you. This is causing me an unbearable amount of pain.”

  When I opened my eyes, light flooded my vision, producing enough agony to rival my chest wound. My eyes snapped shut again. “Where in the fuck…?”

  “Peter, keep your eyes closed,” Monica said, from somewhere near my feet. “Your glasses fell off and I haven’t put them back on you yet. We’re almost inside the apartment.”

  “And if I set you down, mate, I’m not picking you back up,” said Jesse from above me. My weight shifted as though to emphasize the point. He was the one who had my shoulders. “You’re… fucking heavy.”

  I gritted my teeth, unable to so much as nod without feeling ready to lose consciousness again. Wooziness and hunger made their gradual encroachment into my plane of awareness; I felt my sharp teeth press against my lower lip and smelled Jesse’s scent in that manner only vampires could. Everything around me hit a tailspin and death seemed a more fitting option when the clash of maladies became too much to bear. Wesley, undoubtedly, would have loved have known that.

  The rest of the trip up the stairs encompassed a blur which culminated in me being placed onto the couch. The hard plastic of my sunglasses slid atop my face. My eyes opened immediately in response. The burry image of my watcher materialized, this time with less pain radiating from my retinas. I frowned. “There is trouble looming. We must warn the Order,” I said.

  “Peter,” she said, crouching beside me, “You’re very badly injured. Let’s get you patched up before we talk about plans.”

  I smiled wanly. “Your turn to be the doctor.”

  She nodded, placing a quick kiss on my lips before hurrying off. I shut my eyes again, but closing out the world could not dismiss the weight of three sets of eyes staring down at me. My frown deepened. “I apologize if I have been disingenuous with you. Wesley is correct, though. I am the one who killed Lydia. I have been a vampire for over five years, first an assassin for my maker, Sabrina, then her executioner when Monica managed to save me from myself.” I indulged in a steadying breath and forced my eyes open again. “Flynn is my immortal name. As a human, I was known as Peter Dawes.”

  The trio remained silent. I continued. “For the years I spent as an assassin, I was ignorant of my abilities and my mortal calling. I have killed many people and earned a reputation even among my own kind as a cold-blooded murderer. Your Council sought my death and we escaped so I might continue my mission. I am not a monster any longer. I swear to you that is the truth.”

  “And everything else you’ve spat at us?” Wesley asked.

  “All the truth.”

  “And you seriously have a warrant out for your death?” Jesse interjected.

  I turned my head to line Jesse more directly in my sight. “Yes. We were cornered in a hospital by a master seer named Julian. He is the one who forced our hand to leave even with Monica yet injured.”

  “Sounds like the bloody sods.” Jesse sighed and sat in the adjacent chair. “For what it’s worth, this explains the walking among vampires bit a little better.”

  Wesley was nowhere near as placated. “So, what the fuck happened in there tonight, then?”

  I sighed. “I believed too easily that this would be posturing and little more. Ian and I made clear to one another we knew who the other was, but I underestimated just how extensive his plans were. And how much I factored into them. His second-in-command slipped behind me into Ian’s office and impaled me with a sword.” Pausing, I swallowed hard, my throat dry and a shiver of need crawling the length of my spine. Each pulse in the room was beginning to beat louder and louder. I fought the compulsion to tell Monica to hurry. “Ian thought I could be persuaded into my old ways. Enough that he intentionally missed killing me.”

  If prayers were indeed heard by a higher power, mine managed to reach their target as no sooner did I finish the comment, but Monica appeared again, holding a glass filled with blood. Despite my weakened condition, I nearly bolted upright at the sight of it and ripped it from her hands, imbibing swallow after lusty swallow in my haste to dispatch of every drop. By the time the contents were drained, I swore I could feed upon a host of humans and not be sated. It was enough, however, to enable me to finally retract my fangs.

  I opened my eyes, not knowing I had shut them again. Wesley, Jesse, and Mark eyed me nervously while Monica worked on unbuttoning my blood-stained shirt. I sighed. “I apologize. Undoubtedly, that had to be a sight.” My watcher took the glass and set it aside while tugging back the fabric to examine the mending wound on my chest. I paused to take a breath, holding it while anticipating the first jolt of tenderness when Monica pressed a wet cloth against my skin.

  It passed, enabling me to continue. “You three have done us a great service, but our work has only just begun
. What I am about to share is a grave warning you must take seriously.” My attention focused on Wesley in particular. “You have followed Ian for these past years and your suspicions have been correct. What he means to do, I cannot be certain, but he revealed his intentions rather clearly. There is some entity toward which he alluded, something he claims could unleash horrific destruction and tip the balance of power itself.”

  Wesley narrowed his eyes at me, studying me for a few tense seconds. I nodded. “The duplicity of vampires,” I said. “One of the fundamental forces of nature. I know I have been condemned and have earned each sentence administered to me. You must listen to me, though. The consequences are dire if you do not.”

  “Why did Ian let you live?”

  “He spared me only because he wished to recruit me to meet this end. What function I might serve, I do not know. I was in far too much pain to delve into his thoughts and the mind of an elder is more difficult to read.”

  The room fell silent again. The skepticism latent in their gazes made the tension only more prominent. I had one last chance to win them over. “There is a chess match for my soul, it seems. The Fates bring me their messages, and the ghosts of my past visit me to offer me guidance. The vampires have not forgotten me, however, and in some regard the monster I was still lives inside of me. But my conscience refuses to relent in the idea that your Council must be protected. If you want my most solemn assurance, it is this – I shall do whatever it takes to foil their plans, if I could only have your help.”

  Monica withdrew the cloth – now stained crimson – and placed it beside the glass on the coffee table. She turned to study the trio the same as I did and maintained a sober enough expression to mirror my own. Their thoughts shouted a discordant train of allegations, convictions, and uncertainties until Mark cleared his throat and looked at me. “I’ve known what you are,” he said, “And kept quiet about it. I’ll admit, I wanted to see why The Fates would create something as strange as a vampire-seer. There are stories of tyrants who have been redeemed and men who once sought evil turned for good. You might be one of them.”

  “How do you know for sure we can trust him?” Wesley asked.

  “I’m not sure we can afford to disbelieve him, Wes,” Jesse interjected.

  Wesley scoffed, his gaze settling directly on me. “I’m sorry, but I don’t buy it.”

  I sighed. “Wesley, I assure you that I–”

  “Oh, shut up. Shut the fuck up.” His hand lifted, finger pointing at me in an accusatory manner. “Listen to me know, you blood-drinking bastard. I grew up with Lydia. She and I were dating before she went off to some assignment in Philadelphia and fed me some bullshit story about long distance relationships never working. If she hadn’t met you, she’d have come back to Seattle where she belonged.”

  “I had no idea–”

  “She would still be alive today.” His voice gained in volume. “You didn’t even have the decency to marry her before you put a blade through her goddamn heart. You just fucked her and killed her and now I’m supposed to buy that you have a conscience?!”

  Monica stood. “Wesley, you’ve said enough.”

  “And you, Monica. You. Your fucking sister should be rolling in her grave knowing you decided to consort with this thing.”

  “You’re out of line.”

  “Oh please. If you want to play house with the fanged freak who killed your sister, until the Order finally catches up with you, that’s your call. But leave me the hell out of it. I didn’t sign up for this shit.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You always were the one hell-bent and determined to cut off his nose to spite his face. You’re more than eager to place the blame on Peter’s head for what happened when I remember you being the one who refused to leave Seattle. You’re two therapy sessions away from realizing a guilt complex and I don’t care enough to buy you the clue. Go, make your big mistake. We’ll keep doing our fucking job.”

  “My big mistake?” He laughed. “Who’s the one who’s going to wind up with his fangs in their throat?”

  “Wesley,” I said, wishing I had the energy to project my voice much louder. “You would do well to fear Ian’s fangs before fearing mine. We are all in danger.”

  “And I’m not listening to your horse crap any longer.” He glanced from me to Monica and back again. “You have no idea what you took from this world when you killed that girl.”

  He turned to walk away. “To the contrary,” I said, stopping him with his back turned to me, “I know full well what I have taken – both when it comes to Lydia and the countless other lives which perished at my hand. And I could use every word of repentance ever fashioned by man or immortal, and it would do nothing to undo what has been done. It is not for me to change, though. It is for me to figure out why.”

  “Yeah, well, while you’re figuring it out, we’ll be bringing down that bastard ourselves.” He turned his head to look at Mark and Jesse. “Let’s get out of here; we have some planning to do. And Monica, I expect the two of you out of this place immediately.” He started for the door. “Have a nice fucking life.”

  “Fuck you, too, Wesley,” Monica said. I took her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze to coax her into letting it go for the time being. She sighed, her attention and mine drawn to Mark as he crossed past us and peered down at me.

  “Good luck,” he said, punctuating his words with a nod. Then, he joined Wesley in departing.

  Jesse hesitated, waiting for the other two to exit before looking in our direction. “This is all bollocks, but if I don’t keep an eye on him, he’ll do something stupid.” He closed the distance, stretching out a hand to me. “Look, I don’t get what the powers-that-be have cooking, but I don’t have any grudges, mate. Keep your nose clean and I’ll try to do the same.”

  “Do everything in your power to keep them away from that coven,” I said, shaking his hand. “Ian made me look the fool and I am no novice killer.”

  He nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” His hand drifted to Monica’s shoulder, giving it a pat. “And you stay safe, too, Lady M. Maybe Wes will get his bloody head out of his ass before this gets serious.”

  Monica circled Jesse inside her arms, indulging a brief embrace before letting him go. Without another word spoken, he parted from our company. It struck me as eerily final when the door swung shut behind him..

  “I don’t like this, Peter,” Monica finally said after a few moments’ pause. “I don’t like any of this at all.”

  “I know.” Slowly and laboriously, I shifted on the couch to a more upright position. “That vision is still fresh in my mind.” My eyes found my watcher’s when she crouched beside me again. I could only imagine the haunted look upon my face. “Ian allowed me to live. He watched our departure from the roof of the coven and pointed as though marking us. This is hardly the time for them to be planning much of anything.”

  Monica nodded, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. “It’s a mistake we’ll have to let him make if he charges the front gates any sooner than tomorrow night.” She inched closer and knelt on the carpet. Her head settled on my shoulder, hand settling on my stomach and caressing my bare skin with soft strokes. “We’ll check on them when you feel better. Even idiots need saving every now and then.”

  I snickered as much as I dared without heightening my discomfort. A hand settled atop Monica’s. “I thought he wished us be gone.”

  “He can blow it out his ear. I’m not leaving until our job is finished.”

  “A sentiment I could not have spoken better myself.” Pressing my cheek against her head, I managed a subdued grin. “Two of the most pitiful creatures on the planet. Am I correct?”

  She chuckled. “You said a mouthful.” A calmer silence settled between us. My watcher knelt beside me while my thoughts strayed down several paths, meandering into several more. I kissed the top of her head and sighed, too weak to do much more than that. We would stop Wesley and the others, just as soon as I had a cha
nce to rest.

  The events unfolding seemed to have spiraled out of control, down a course I was yet ignorant toward and one I dared not interfere with until I knew for certain what we faced. I knew it would not take long, though, for the stern eye of the cosmos to find me once more.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Outside, the thunder rumbled. A heavy rain beat out a rhythmic cadence against the bedroom windows and inside the room, Monica slept with her head on the pillow beside mine. Her hand protected my wound, yet present and tender, though nowhere near as prominent as it had been when we laid down. My hand glided across her shoulders with my eyes yet shut. The serenity, however, was to be short-lived.

  A scene began to play from within my mind.

  I saw a room dark with shadows, crawling with ominous dread while bearing a familiarity to it I could not pinpoint. Something told me I had seen it once, and yet I could not recall the last time I had trod inside such a large, vacant room, dusty with so much age. It appeared as though not a soul had been inside for years. When my eyes drifted toward the tile beneath me, though, I saw the filth disrupted by several sets of footprints scattered haphazardly. A flash of light illuminated the sky, drawing my attention to the windows. The rain beat down in torrents from dreary, gray clouds. I crouched, my gaze shifting downward again, and bent to study the floor below.

  Something else caught my attention. My fangs descended beyond my control when I examined it closer. It was a pool of blood; the same one I had come upon before, but this time I could examine it without the same dread and fear choking me within its grip. It crept outward in slow motion, deep and crimson, and still fresh enough not to have much coagulation. I could almost smell the person from whom it had originated, prompting relief to wash over me upon failing to identify Monica as its owner.