Rebirth of the Seer

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Rebirth of the Seer Page 26

by Peter W. Dawes


  I touched the edge of the puddle with the tip of my finger, but was granted no further insight. Wiping the blood onto my pants, I stood, my brow furrowed as I scanned one side of the room. I caught sight of a figure in my periphery, spinning around just as another flash of lightning crossed the sky. The strobe effect it generated gave the room a macabre, horror movie feel, only made more pronounced by what I found.

  The vacant eyes of Wesley greeted me, his appearance so sudden, I jumped back and only then noticed he hung upside down from the ceiling with his throat slashed. His face had been frozen in an expression of ghastly horror. Rivulets still ran downward, drops trickling into the morass. I reached outward to catch one in my palm and heard the voice which had haunted me before.

  ‘Amateurs. Weren’t they, Flynn? ’

  ***

  Jumping upright, I was knocked from the scene and back into bed beside my watcher. My hand flew to my face, finding my fangs still exposed when one dug into the side of my thumb. I allowed them to retract, and shakily glanced backward to see I had jostled Monica awake and caused her to grimace. “Are you alright?” I asked as I crawled to her side and touched her shoulder.

  She sighed. “Yeah, it still tickles when I move in the wrong way.” Her eyes opened fully, brow furrowing as she regarded me. “What was that all about?”

  “Another vision.” I frowned, running my fingers through my hair. “Wesley and the others are in danger.”

  “You saw Wesley?”

  “Yes, I did.” My eyes shut. All at once, my head began to throb, as though I bore a pulse or the ability to manifest a headache. “His throat had been cut and he bled out on the floor. This was the pool of blood I saw in my last vision.”

  “Did you see anything else?”

  “I am afraid not. The room was dusty and bore a trail of footprints, but I saw nothing aside from a few windows.”

  I felt her hand touch my face and opened my eyes in response. A look of concern formed a solemn shroud over her features. “You’re sure this was the same room from before?”

  A wan smile made a brief appearance. “At least now I know that was not you.”

  “This is only slightly better, though.” She mirrored the grin in all its brevity and moved aside when I motioned to sit. The effort brought a dizzy spell in its wake, but within moments I had my bearings again. She sighed. “How did I know he’d go and get himself in trouble?”

  “A measure of character. I have not known him for very long and I can already see the death wish he carries wherever he goes.” I shook my head and regarded her again when she slid up to my side. “Regardless of his sentiments, we should make good on ensuring his safety.”

  “I agree.” Her lips touched my shoulder in a gentle kiss. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Not very well at all.”

  “Do you need something to eat before we leave?”

  “I do not think we have the time.” I sighed, taking her hand in mine and kissing it before rising to a stand. “Let us make haste. The longer we linger, the more unsettled I become.”

  Monica nodded, and together we prepared for our outing. As I dressed again in my red shirt and long, black coat, I felt a burden lowering onto my shoulders. The specter of dread coiled around my psyche until it forced me to shiver. My hands slipped twice while fastening buttons. After securing my belt in place, I stared at the katana propped against the wall. A jolt of premonition pushed me forward. I could not leave without my sword.

  It hung by my side as I finally closed my coat. Monica tied her red scarf around her neck and glanced at me after tossing the ends over her shoulder. “Are you ready?” she asked, an apprehensive look in her eyes.

  No doubt I bore the same expression as I slid my sunglasses over my eyes. “Not as ready as I am certain I should be,” I said, “But it shall have to suffice.” Walking toward her, I offered her my arm, my disposition as sober as hers appeared to be. She took hold of it, reaching with her other hand to clutch onto me tight and indulging a deep breath as I endeavored to do the same. We both nodded at each other. Together, we walked out into the stormy night, headed for Wesley’s residence.

  A biting wind greeted us the moment we exited the building. The rain fluctuated between a heavy downpour and a persistent drizzle throughout the duration of our travel, broken up by a short bus ride and a train which let us off only two blocks from our destination. Still, by the time we arrived and took shelter on his front steps, she and I were both soaked from head to foot, with me becoming rapidly apathetic toward the reception we would receive.

  What greeted us only served to disquiet me further, though. The windows were dark, without a glimmer of light filtering in past the curtains in the living room. My vampire hearing drowned in silence, and could not register so much as a heartbeat in the immediate vicinity. I turned to Monica and frowned. “I do not believe they are home,” I said.

  “Damn it.” Monica walked up to the entryway and promptly opened the screen door. With forceful knocks, she pounded on the wooden barrier before us and sighed when the commotion failed to garner any response. “Still nothing?” she asked, glancing at me.

  I shook my head. “Unless they are able to mask their pulses, no.”

  “Was afraid you were going to say that.” Her hands settled on her hips, foot tapping as an unstoppable force met with an immovable object. She gave the door a swift kick, but the door did not as much as rattle with the impact. “Fuck. Think there’s something you can do with those vampire tricks of yours.”

  “Perhaps so.” She stepped away and exchanged places with me, holding the screen open during the transition. I kept a safe distance between me and the front door, but stopped before raising my foot, my eyes catching sight of the lock and remembering my fatigued crawl into the apartment a few days prior. Telekinetic lockpicking; the concept might have been far-fetched, but this time I was game enough to try it. I crouched in front of the knob and focused on the keyhole, feeling around inside the door for the latches and finally finding the bolt on the other side.

  “What are you doing?” Monica asked, but no sooner had she issued the question than a click interrupted her with the immediate answer. Her eyes widened and I stood, twisting the knob and opening the front door with ease. I turned to face her and smiled at the expression on her face.

  “An idle thought I had recently,” I said. “If I can lock men into place and toss them around a room, surely no metallic device should be such an obstacle.”

  She nodded slowly, visibly shaking off the look of awe on her face in favor of surrendering to the sobriety of the moment. I made mention of relishing the victory some other time, and followed her inside before shutting the door behind us. As we paused in the entryway, I noticed the quiet as something out-of-place, almost unnerving in how pervasive it was.

  Monica walked further into the house and investigated each room while calling out to its usual occupants. I lingered near the door, though, and glanced around at the surrounding room. A hum radiated in the air, its origin uncertain, but increasing steadily in volume the longer I lingered in place. My eyes drifted to the wall and the same premonition which emanated from the door’s lock hovered in an empty space of paint and plaster, unmarred by any pictures.

  “You know, I really hate when you’re right,” Monica said, her voice gaining in volume. I remained transfixed, failing to turn my head to regard her. Faintly, I heard her steps approach until she stopped several feet away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Something about the wall,” I murmured. “I cannot be certain what.”

  “Something about the wall?” she asked, but I ignored her in favor of walking closer. Extending a hand, I hesitated, but spread my fingers while shutting my eyes and concentrating. Little sparks seemed to jump from the flat surface to my cool skin, creating tingles where they landed. When my hand touched the wall, a surge raced through me, all the way from palm to shoulder.

  “This isn’t a good idea, Wes.”

  I jumped ba
ck, my eyes snapping open. Monica crossed the distance between us. I finally looked down at her. “I heard a voice,” I said. “I believe it was Jesse.”

  “You heard Jesse?” She glanced at the wall, then back at me. “By touching that?”

  “Surprisingly enough, yes.”

  Monica furrowed her brow. “Okay, I’ve heard of people who could see stuff just by holding objects, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard of getting messages via wall.” Her attention shifted to where my hand had just been. “Try touching it again, but don’t move right away. You might have to concentrate to get more out of it.”

  “Very well, then.” My chest expanded as I filled my lungs and slowly collapsed when exhaled the air I gathered. As I stared at the wall, I tried to focus on the energy pulsing around me, wondering if one could will it all into a single spot. Things Monica had told me back in Philadelphia circled around my thoughts. I was something different. Something untested; someone powerful. If my imagination forged the ceiling, I had to learn to stop doubting how creative I could get.

  By the time I touched the wall again, enough energy had gathered for the room to explode into a fully-realized scene, jarring when I saw faint strains of light creep through the windows and from the space beneath the door. Intermittent shadows disrupted the sunlight and I had to wrestle the instinctual compulsion to leap away from one patch which had gathered mere inches away from my shoes. Still, I held on, allowing my eyes to wander to another set of feet pacing closer to the door.

  Mark sighed, slipping his hands in his pockets, his eyes focused on the entryway. If he saw me, he gave no indication, which added another level of absurdity to the entire ordeal. “It’s going to rain,” he said. “The storm clouds are moving in.”

  “We should set out soon, then.” Shifting my attention to the side, I watched as Wesley plucked weapons from the coffee table, tossing them idly into a dufflebag on the couch. “Jess, either you’re coming or you’re staying here, but it’s shit or get off the pot.”

  Jesse sat in a chair adjacent to the couch. “But Flynn said…”

  “Fuck what Flynn said. I’m not listening to a goddamn thing from that lying demon’s mouth.” Wesley zipped up the dufflebag and slung it around his shoulder. “Now, are you in or are you out?”

  Jesse came to a stand. “This is bollocks, Wes, the whole lot of it. You’re so bloody enraged you’re breaking your first rule and I’m not comfortable playing chaperone to a suicide mission.”

  “Mark’s not giving me shit about it.”

  Mark turned, glancing back at Wesley and raising an eyebrow, but not interjecting. His expression unnerved me, though. It made me wish I could read his thoughts from the other side of the veil.

  Wesley cleared his throat and continued. “I’ve thought this out, okay? It isn’t as suicidal as you think it is. If we set out now, before the vamps rise, we’ll murder their boss and if we can’t get to him, we’ll double back and wait.” His lips quirked upward. “Help’ll be on the way before we know it.”

  “Fucking humans,” I said, ripping my hand from the wall. The sunlight faded, and the sound of raindrops hitting the side of the house replaced the conversation I had just witnessed. I turned to face Monica, regarding her in the shroud of darkness once again. “They left already. Right before the storm began.”

  Monica threw up her hands. “Goddamn it. That could’ve been hours ago.”

  “Which does not bode well for their longevity.” The wind whipped a tree branch against a window, causing Monica to jump. I remained lost inside my thoughts, though, weighing the pieces of the puzzle I had collected. For the first time, I stood knowingly on the threshold of calamity, able to choose my next step. Three people were in mortal danger, and if my visions bore any weight, would certainly perish if I did not stop their killer. The seer within me screamed toward action, but as I looked at Monica, I knew how much risk I might be taking in continuing further down this road. Whether or not that pool of blood belonged to Monica, taking her with me placed her in the crosshairs of imminent doom.

  “I must go,” I said, frowning. “But I wish you to retreat somewhere safe. Meet me back at the apartment after sunrise, but not before. If I do not return, then leave Chicago and do so before sunset, do you hear me? I must go to the coven. If The Fates are kind, I might yet find your friends amongst the living.”

  Leaning forward, I placed a quick kiss on her lips and motioned to turn. She captured my hand, though, and pulled me back. “Wait just a damn minute here.”

  I looked at her and perked an eyebrow. She scowled and shook her head. “I don’t believe you. Thinking you can fall into some bullshit chivalrous act and tell me to be safe while you go out and play hero. That’s not how this sort of thing works, Peter. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

  “And you are not going anywhere with me.” My frown deepened, my gaze unwavering. “I am not convinced Ian would leave you alone. Especially now. You could be in grave danger if you come.”

  “I could be in grave danger if I don’t come. You’re trying to play with fate and that never works.” Her shoulders straightened, and for the first time I recognized the fear she constantly kept at bay, masked behind the bravado she presented on the forefront. “At some point or another, you have to let go. Until this mission is finished, we don’t have any promise of a happily-ever-after. And until then, I’m still your watcher and I still have a job to do.”

  I felt my heart sink. “I cannot allow this.”

  “Cannot or will not? If the guys are in danger, you could be in danger, too.” Her gaze locked with mine. “This thing happening between us is only one small portion of a much larger picture. You need to be alive for what happens next.”

  My jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, but I bit back the impassioned plea I wished to issue. As much as I hated to admit it, the woman was right. I did not wish for her to be right, because that meant escorting her right into the very thing from which I desired to protect her. Still, as deep as my affections ran for her, a duty stood between any future we might have.

  I glanced away. “I shall allow it only under two conditions. First of all, you must swear your presence by my side is not some attempt on your behalf to be quixotic again. That your calling compels you there and not my well-being. Secondly, you must remain as close to me as possible. Do I make myself clear?” My gaze returned to her, my voice wavering with emotion. “If I could clutch you in my arms and fight at the same time, I would. This is how close I wish you to be.”

  My last words echoed, and time itself froze for a few tense moments. At first, I wondered if I had offended Monica, but she closed the distance between us so swiftly, the impact of her body and mine forced me to step back a pace. Her arms engulfed me and I wrapped mine around her in response. She buried her face against my coat. “I want you to remember something, just in case anything happens to me.”

  I shut my eyes, tightening my hold on instinct. “What is that, love?”

  “That this man I’m holding onto might be a vampire, but he has all the heart and soul of a human. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise and don’t ever fall back into the lie that you’re only capable of evil. You might still be a vampire, but the seer you are is more powerful than the devil he’s trapped inside.”

  As she pulled away, I looked down at her, uncertain of what to say in response. Part of me wished to thank her and profess my love for her again. Another portion wished to shake its head and tell her that, once again, her faith in me was blinding her. The truth of the matter was I did not know which I carried more strongly – the deviance of Flynn or the conviction of Peter – but that contest would have to be settled some other time.

  Instead, I bent to kiss her, wishing we could simply run, but knowing the cost would be allowing her friends to die and Ian’s evil to remain unchecked. Toying with fate. I pulled back, nodding as the kiss ended. “I shall remember your words,” I said. “Now, as for my conditions…?”

  She sighed an
d rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m only coming because my calling is telling me to. And, if I might be so bold to say, buster, I think I know where my place is supposed to be even without your fancy visions.” My arms fell to my sides as she released her hold on me. One of her hands reached to clasp one of mine. “I’ll be as close as your shadow. Now, let’s get out of here, before we really are ice skating on a lake of their blood.”

  “Indeed.” I gave her hand a light squeeze before leading us back out to into the night. The door shut behind us as I admired the rain-drenched streets with a pensive stare. Monica glanced up and I, without looking down at her, unbuttoned my coat and wrapped her inside its folds before taking my first steps away from the porch. If could not ensure her protection from danger, the least I could do was give her refuge from the cold.

  Once again, the vision played out in my mind and I recognized – as my shoes touched the gritty pavement – that not everything in the cosmos was up for debate. This could be a fool’s errand we were set upon, confronting something immutable, but one fundamental truth was abundantly clear. Fate had conspired to set my path. The creature walking it was merely along for the ride.

  Chapter Twenty

  As we approached the coven, that sense something was dreadfully wrong made its presence known again. It was well past sunset and yet, the surrounding streets resembled a ghost town with not a sign of an immortal to be had anywhere. The same group of humans I had observed two nights prior huddled in the park, bonfires lit to spite the heavens. It was not until we rounded a corner and the hotel came into view, though, that I realized how surreal the situation had become.

  Furrowing my brow, I stared mute until I needed confirmation of what my eyes beheld. “Monica, please tell me I was not hallucinating last evening,” I said. “This was the building I was in, was it not?”

  Monica nodded, a gesture completed in slow motion. Her eyes remained locked in a mesmerized stare when I glanced at her, which only prompted my gaze to return to the monolith before us. I had prepared myself for guards at the doors, and antagonists who would prevent us entry into their home. I had even warned myself a few of them might be wielding some hidden tricks. What we faced was entirely unexpected and stole the high ground out from beneath my feet.

 

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