by Peter Dawes
“For what? For finishing my mission? I did precisely what I set out to do. Monica has been restored to us.”
“You did a lot more than that and stop pretending that I’m stupid, Peter. I talked to Darshan Agarwal in New Delhi. He got called into our branch down in Mumbai and interrogated because apparently, whatever stupid idea you got in your brain, you managed to convince him it was the right thing. He wouldn’t talk to us over the phone.”
“It was the right thing, Malcolm. The Fates…” I hesitated, a mention of Robin lodged in my throat unable to pass through my lips and thus forcing me to regroup. I attempted to think up the proper way of wording it. “I was given clear signs along the way of what needed to be done and I did it.”
Malcolm laughed. “The Fates wanted you to tear through places that have been in existence since the beginning of your race, created to protect something larger than anything we’ve ever had to hide, and rip out something we’ve been trying to keep safe for nine centuries? I think somebody fed you a line, son.”
I bit back both an angry remark and the recollection of Valeria’s insistence I was a creation of their manufacture. “I beg to differ.” Tossing back the remainder of my drink, I slammed the glass down onto the table and leaned forward, glaring at Malcolm in the process. “The scrolls have been destroyed. They are no longer out there to be a threat. The vampires had managed out two of the parchments and were bent on acquiring more.”
“Yes, we know that. We’ve known that for a while. We knew they had to remove all of them and had two. We were there when it happened, both times, and lost good men in those fights. Now, granted, you managed to remove a dark sorceress who avoided even Killian O’Cearneigh, but Peter… Dear God, do you have any idea what the hell you’ve done?”
My anger wavered, my stomach sinking again at the look in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
He sighed and leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. “Right after you called, the London office lit up like a Christmas tree with reports about an influx in dark magicians. We had to dispatch several seers into this area because – guess what – this seems to be the epicenter of the problem. Peter, those scrolls weren’t just about spells and power, they were about numbers and I have a suspicion you know this because you claim you destroyed them. The only way to destroy them –”
“– Was to cast them, I know.” I frowned and glanced away.
I heard him sigh, seeing him sit back again from my periphery. “Then you know what you’re going to have to do now.”
“What I am going to have to do?” I laughed. Looking back at him, I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not. Malcolm, you cannot do this to your daughter. She has endured capture for weeks now, and heaven only knows what she was subjected to in the process. I have not had the chance, nor the desire, to yet.”
“I know,” he said, his voice more subdued. “Why do you think I waited to approach you?”
“Then you know that this is ludicrous. We cannot return to the Order. I have no notion of who orchestrates the will of the cosmos and what machinations wished to see this come to light, but I know enough to be certain these scrolls were meant to be cast. I was given far too many things from the light for me to believe the darkness fully responsible for my directives. Did I stray along the path? Yes, I did. And I suffered for it. I bled for it and died. I was brought back to life and as a human and that is the truth of the matter. I surrendered the afterlife to be with her again.”
“Peter…”
“Monica and I are leaving the Order. We are done. She needs her reprieve and so do I. If you came to take us back to Seattle, then I hate to have wasted your time.”
Malcolm waited for my gaze to fix with his, locking it in place while sobering. “You aren’t returning to Seattle,” he said, his voice suddenly terse. “She is. She’s giving a report to the council before being reassigned to a different seer and you’re being transferred to London so you can help with the clean-up of your mess. This decision was made by the Council earlier today while I was on a jet headed out here and it remains final.” He slid out his chair and rose to a stand. “You and I will be leaving in the morning.”
I watched as he turned around and left, no further discussion welcomed and no ceremony given to the gesture. Any words of rebuttal I had manufactured, he seized with his departure, leaving me dumbfounded and upset without any way of expressing it. I looked up when I saw movement and felt rendered utterly destitute by what I saw from across the room.
Monica stood there, staring in the direction her father had headed before glancing toward me. I shook my head, not knowing what to say and not needing to at the same time. She crossed the distance to the table and refused to make eye contact with me. “Let’s go back to the room,” she said, her voice soft, her feet leading her over to where I sat and hand touching my shoulder. She gave it a squeeze and I remained both mute and frozen in place. It took another moment of coaxing before I agreed to stand and accompany her out of the restaurant.
We lay in bed, shrouded in silence, with neither of us asleep and both lost in the spiral of our thoughts. I held her as long as I could and finally rose to a stand when too restless, leaving her curled in a ball on the bed. “What do we do?” I finally asked, walking to one of the windows and parting the curtain to gaze outside.
“I’ll talk some sense into my mother,” she said, but her voice sounded tired. Her words had been weighed down by millstones, threatened to be dragged into the depths. The breath she took sounded haggard. “Dad can be an asshole when he gets angry and the Council isn’t always good at talking him down from it.”
“But your mother can?”
“She listens a little better than he does.”
“Seems such a flimsy hope after so much.”
When Monica failed to answer, I continued staring outside, wishing some truth to emerge in the stars which might give us more to hold onto. I spoke a hundred things in my mind without saying one of them, not even able to accept our imminent separation let alone voice it to her. Shutting my eyes, I fought the onslaught of frustrated tears and finally turned my back on the city. Walking away from the window, I set about collecting my garments from the floor again. “I think I need some fresh air,” I said. “I promise to be back shortly, Dearest.”
“Okay,” she said, without adding anything further. I dressed and paused by the door, seeing her still lying in the same spot I had left her, her gaze peering at the opposite wall and her only sign of life the rise and fall of her breathing. For a moment, I considered getting undressed again and spooning with her, but somehow, I knew the restlessness would only return if I did so. As such, I opened the door, and made my departure before I could reconsider.
As I left the room, I saw a tall man seated in a chair at the end of the hallway rise to his feet. He grinned nervously and I flashed him a wan smile, holding up a hand when he advanced forward a pace. Not needing to guess at the color of his eyes or plumb the depths of his thoughts for who had placed him there, I received all the confirmation I needed just the same. “Did you need anything, Mr. Dawes?” he asked, revealing a British accent.
“Not at all,” I said. Walking toward him, I shoved my hands into my pockets and frowned. “Do I need permission to go for a walk?”
“No, but I need to let Mr. Davies know if you don’t come back.”
“As you should… what is your name?”
“Fritz, sir. I’m one of the sorcerers from London.”
“Ah yes, Fritz. I promise an hour, nothing more.”
“Very well, sir.” Fritz nodded at me, but I still saw him lift the sleeve of his shirt and pull a watch further down his wrist. He sat slowly while fiddling with a few of its buttons and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, stopping in front of the elevators and pressing the down arrow before waiting for the car to ascend. My babysitter had settled back into his chair by the time I disappeared through the doors and was the last thing I saw before my descent.
“Just blo
ody brilliant,” I murmured, resting both hands on the bar stretching across the back of the elevator and sighing. Pushing off from it once I reached the main floor, I strolled into the lobby and out the doors, aware in some strange form of muscle memory that the hour had turned late, giving me precious little time before dawn would approach and action needed to be taken. As it stood, I still had no idea what I would do when Malcolm knocked on the door to our room. I remained mired in indecision as my feet wandered the streets of Rome.
Distantly, church bells chimed and a sparse amount of people passed me by while I wondered halfheartedly if I might get lost. It would serve them right, I figured, if I did force them to come after me and yet, I could not seem to turn down enough streets to not know my way back to the hotel. I had no desire to leave Monica there, but my heart broke each time I comforted my beloved with nothing but impotence to offer. Some powerful seer, I thought, who could cross continents to rescue one woman and then, allow ignorant men to snatch her away. I kicked a rock and slid my hands into my pockets again, staring at the sidewalk while passing the steps to a church.
Something caused me to stop, though, the set of eyes I felt on me this time ones of a sympathetic nature. The corners of my mouth curled upward despite my mood. “How did I know it would not take long before I saw you again?” I asked, feeling my seer senses twinge and tempted to laugh at it.
He huffed softly and remained seated, exchanging the grin when I turned my head to regard my older, more regal, brother. “You had more faith than I did,” Robin said, folding his hands on his lap and allowing his expression to sober. A much more solemn look replaced it. “You know, Peter, normally mortals sleep at this hour. You’re going to have to get used to it again.”
“I shall take that under advisement as I do the rest of your counsel.”
“Which is to say you will shun it.”
“I shall do my best not to.”
Robin smiled again and I exchanged the fondness in his eyes with a look of my own, finally strolling toward him and up a few of the stairs to lean against a metal banister. He yet wore the same clothing that he had on when I saw him last, and though the air which settled between us bore a high level of tension, we seemed to know we faced each other as friends and not antagonists. “I didn’t expect to see you without your…” My brother paused. He flashed a wan smile. “…Without Monica.”
I sighed and glanced away. “Yes, I would have expected the same sight in your shoes.”
“Is mortality taking some getting used to?”
My gaze returned to him, with me perking an eyebrow at him. He gestured with his hand, making circular motions. “I mean, are you up and about wandering because you’re unsettled,” he explained. “You have to remember, you’re talking to a man who hasn’t heard his own pulse in over a century. The noise of it alone would be deafening.”
“No,” I said, “Actually, it isn’t anything of the like.” My brow relaxed, but my demeanor changed. Reliving the memory of the night before, I flashed back to his betrayal, my tone still soft, but with more of an edge to it when I spoke. “What happened? Of the list of things I might have counted on before yesterday, it would have included you never betraying me.”
He sighed. “I was waiting for the subject to be broached.” His gaze lowered to his hands, my brother silent for a few moments while I watched him visibly collect himself. Robin twiddled his thumbs, then relaxed them and finally peered up at me again. “I did what was asked of me, Peter. And at so many points, I waited for it all to unravel – for you to finally ask a question I couldn’t answer or read a stray thought from my mind, but you never did.”
Spurred to sit beside him, I walked around to the other side and perched myself on the same stair. “I trusted you implicitly.”
“Yes, you did, which made it all the easier. And at the same time, made me feel guiltier.” Frowning, he glanced downward once more. “You never saw the rest of that memory. Where your former lover asked me to help you see this mission through to the end, warning it would be difficult. You weren’t there when I tried tossing the parchment into fire and saw it not so much as char. You weren’t with me when I discovered what had happened to you in Romania or read my thoughts when I knew your faith had been shaken. I had to make many difficult decisions to be your aid and it was not a task I enjoyed at all.”
“Why would you put yourself through that much trouble?” I asked, the question sincere. “Because the Fates would take your life away from you if you didn’t?”
He exhaled a shaky sigh. “No, brother, I did it because it was your mission and you needed help to fulfill it.” When Robin lifted his head again, I saw him laid transparent before me, stripped bare of his walls. The man I regarded looked just as haunted as I felt. “I did my best to guide you through it. I advised Valeria to stage your watcher’s death in some part to keep her alive. I brought you to the edge of darkness thinking you would need it to cast those scrolls and destroy them, but the entire time I was ready to bring you back from it. You surprised me, you know.” A sardonic chuckle passed through his lips. “You resisted. Heaven only knows, I wish I had been given more time to translate those parchments. I didn’t know you would be beaten as much as you had been.”
“I think it better for the both of us we did not know that. At the same time –” A small smile curled the corners of my mouth. “You kept her alive for me?”
“I didn’t trust the dark witch wouldn’t murder her sooner.”
“Neither did I, I simply did not permit myself the thought.”
“I had noticed.”
We lapsed into silence, both pensive while I did my part to shift past the subject. At the same time, it brought me to my present concerns. I kneaded my hands together, gaze set on the action. “Is it selfish of me to request your further counsel after what you just endured?” I asked.
Robin raised an eyebrow, but I refused to look fully at him. “I can hardly think of what counsel I might have left for you, Peter,” he said.
I exhaled deep breath after holding onto it for a while. “We have a situation on our hands. Monica and I needed some place to sojourn and so, we contacted the Order and told them where we were. They provided our accommodations, but it would seem we should have hidden away instead.” A pregnant pause filled the space between one comment and the next. “They wish to take me to their headquarters in London, and spirit her back to Seattle for reassignment. Despite everything we were just through, they wish to inflict more upon us and I have no notion of what to do.”
My brother regarded me with such weight, it forced my gaze back to him. “They want to throw you back into the thick of things?”
“Straight from the frying pan and into the fire, yes.” Groaning, I reclined back against the stairs, the posture not entirely comfortable, but affording me a view of the sky. Both hands slid behind my head to cushion against the hard concrete. “You insist that casting the scrolls was the will of the Fates. Valeria claimed it was my service to vampire kind. And in the middle of it all, I served both masters and let loose a torrent of dark magicians into Europe. Now, this is my mess to clean up. This is how Malcolm Davies feels about the matter.”
“I assume this is a human of some relevance in their organization.”
“Their council chair. The man to whom I was reporting while we traveled.”
“Oh, is that all?” I heard him offer a light, bitter laugh. “They have never been a friend of mine, Peter. I see the need for them in the natural order, but my view of the Order is tainted. Needless to say, I’ve lived long enough to have stories of abuses, none of them flattering as far as their intentions are concerned.”
“Valeria insisted they would hate me simply for being a vampire.” I frowned again.
“I wish I could claim that was the paranoid rambling of a madwoman, but it bears some truth. I think they simply hadn’t settled yet on what to make of you.” He sighed. “My heavens, though, Peter, now you are a human and just another tool in their kit
, to be thrown into the wind and martyred for a cause. And along the way, destined to have your moral compass bent beyond recognition.”
“Is this what they do?”
“No one is exempt from abuse of power, man or vampire alike.”
“What kind of people are these?” My eyes found the few stars visible through the clouds and haze of the city. I held the air in my lungs for a moment before releasing it. “Let the Fates take it out on me, brother, if somehow I misinterpreted their will. Monica deserves shelter, not another mission. And I do not trust them to honor that need.”
“I don’t blame you for feeling that way.”
I turned my head once more to regard him, brow furrowed at the hesitation I saw on his face. He winced against it and looked toward me. “I feel as though the only counsel I have to offer is one I have already given you,” he said.
“And what would that be?” I asked.
A wan smile flashed across his lips. “Leave. Only be merciful to me if we ever meet with you the slayer.” He shook his head, but continued regarding me with fond sobriety. “You are a complicated creature, brother, and I fear you will always be that. You have a calling, and no man with a calling is ever left alone. It will summon you again. I don’t need to know your kind to guess that. You’re on a fool’s errand for eternal rest and whether it is today or tomorrow, you will find yourself with a sword in your hands. I would wager all the riches in the world on that. “
I opened my mouth to speak and he lifted a hand. “That being said,” he continued, expression turning stern until he saw me hold my tongue. Nodding, Robin proceeded once he was certain I would not interrupt. “Your calling now might not be what the Supernatural Order presumes it is. In fact, I would wager the same amount this is the case. If your spirit isn’t settled about their directive, I suggest you follow what you think your true path to be.”
Slowly, I rose to a seated position again. “So, you think I should flee?” I asked.
