The Seers

by Katherine Bennet

  The Seers

  The Enlightened Series Book 1

  Katherine Bennet

  The Seers © Copyright 2018 Katherine Bennet

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Cover art by Victoria Cooper

  Proofreading by Patrycja Pakula at Holabird Editing

  ISBN: 978-1-7321171-2-9

  http://www.katherinebennet.com

  Contents

  Also By Katherine Bennet

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  For my grandmother, who has always lived her

  life with grace, selflessness, courage, intelligence,

  and a touch of wit.

  Author’s Mailing List

  To receive the latest freebies, sneak peeks, news, and more, click on the image above or visit www.katherinebennet.com to sign up for Katherine’s mailing list.

  Also By Katherine Bennet

  The Enlightened Series

  Black Rose (Prequel)

  The Seers (Book 1)

  The Warriors (Book 2)* Available Fall 2018

  Enclave Boxed Sets

  Of Beasts and Beauties

  Chapter 1

  “Ma’am, how would you like to proceed?” Captain Valle scanned the ceiling with dull eyes. Good thing Annabel didn’t need him to be intelligent. With his round face and soft build, it was a wonder that Commander Bishop had kept him in the Guard at all.

  She straightened one of the white curls hanging down her shoulder and glanced down the black-and-white marble hallway to make sure no one was listening. “You’re sure?”

  He nodded. “Two implant signatures were detected earlier this morning by her residence. They are definitely Niotian. They appear to be lingering there, possibly waiting for her to return from work.”

  She smiled. She had been right. No one—not Cyrus or even Commander Bishop—had given her theory any credence whatsoever. They couldn’t ignore her now.

  Valle pulled at the black shirt of his tactical uniform, and she caught the slightest hint of an eye roll from him. “I should add that we’re still confident she has no idea who she was.”

  He wasn’t taking this seriously; he wasn’t taking her seriously. She glared at him until he shifted on his feet and broke eye contact. “Leonora is a Seer.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Fifty years ago, Niotian Seers decimated our forces, and we’ve never recovered. As long as she’s alive, she’s dangerous.”

  “How dangerous could she be?” His face twisted. “She never finished her training. She was barely twenty when the Niotians exiled her and erased her memories. They’ve had no contact with her for five years.”

  “If that’s true, why are there two Niotians lingering around her house?” Her voice got louder with every word.

  His jaw tensed, but she didn’t care. As part of the Tavian ruling family, she was untouchable no matter what she said to him.

  “How would you like to proceed?” he asked through curled lips.

  She hesitated but kept her shoulders back and head held high. Things with Cyrus had been tense lately—things with her brother were always tense. He’d be livid if she issued an order to the Guard, but if she stopped the Niotians from repatriating a Seer, he would have to commend her efforts; he’d have to admit she was right. The order had to be worded carefully enough to skirt an outright flouting of Cyrus’s wishes, yet clear enough for this idiot.

  “Are you as familiar with the treaty as you claim to be with our history?”

  He drew in a deep breath as his black eyes darkened. “Of course.”

  “Then you know the rules for making contact with a civilian.”

  He rolled his eyes. “She’s not really a civilian—”

  “My point exactly.”

  He groaned. “Even if she were a civilian, that rule is rarely enforced; we make contact with civilians all the time. What are you suggesting? That we kill her? Perhaps we should consult your brother.”

  No way. Cyrus would either ignore her theory again, or swoop in to give the order just to take the credit.

  “Do you think my brother would tell you to do anything but follow the treaty?” she asked. “He’s a very busy man. I’m sure he wouldn’t take kindly to you interrupting him to make sure you’re supposed to follow the rules.”

  He paused, his gaze shifting around the room. “There’s been no contact yet. I’ll send guards just in case, but I can’t order them to engage unless there’s clear evidence of a violation.”

  She grinned brightly. “That’s all I ask.”

  Nora swallowed hard.

  Tell him you won’t do it.

  A phone rang softly from the maze of cubicles behind her. It was 4:15 on a Friday. Of course, Andrew would spring this on her now. “It’s just that—well, I’ve been working a lot of extra hours on my own projects lately.”

  “Nora, can I share something with you?” Andrew stepped closer as if he were about to tell her top-secret information. “There’s a lot riding on this report. The VP requested it personally. That kind of visibility could be really good for all of us.”

  You mean good for you.

  He’d taken credit for her work before, and if the vice president really wanted this report, Andrew would do it again.

  He smiled at a passing coworker. “Hey, Eric!”

  “Hey, man.” Eric smiled back without even acknowledging Nora was there. She glanced at Andrew’s desk, hoping to think of any possible excuse that would save her from doing his work. A baseball cap had been tossed there with something metal clipped to the bill. A golf ball marker.

  The jerk is going golfing after asking me to work all weekend.

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t know that for sure. She was always making those kinds of assumptions—but she was usually right. Like little sparks, important details seemed to light up in her mind
. She blinked and looked at anything but his dry-fit, lime-green polo. “It’s Friday. It would take me all weekend to review these reports.”

  He held his hands up. “Hey, listen, I get it. It’s not ideal for anyone, but the software has its limitations. At least there’s job security with that, right?” He chuckled. “If there’s a trend here, it could save the company millions of dollars. No one’s better at spotting these things than you.”

  She gritted her teeth.

  Don’t do it. Just say no.

  “I…” Her resolve slipped away.

  Tell him your cat is sick.

  She studied the gold buckle on her ballet flats. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Ugh!

  “You’re the greatest, Nora.” Andrew beamed before checking his watch. “I have to run, but we’ll circle back first thing on Monday.” He grabbed his hat and brushed past her while she fumed. He’d done this so many times, and she always gave in. Could she even be mad at him anymore?

  She slunk back to her desk and fell into her chair. Three hundred and fifty-three datasets. That would definitely take all weekend. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like she had any plans. She’d stopped going to the class on craft beers—a pitiful attempt to meet new people—weeks ago. No one was waiting for her at home. No one would miss her.

  No one, that is, but her cat. She rose and grabbed her cell phone. If she was stuck here all weekend, she would go home now to feed Franklin.

  Sometimes she wondered if the only thing she did that made a difference was feeding him. He had shown up one day on her doorstep, a matted mess, with a cry so loud she could hear him down the street. She still wasn't sure why she’d done it, but she’d taken him in, cleaned, and fed him. He’d settled in so quickly, she liked to think he’d chosen her more than the other way around; it made her feel more wanted and important than she’d like to admit.

  The elevator doors opened, and Eric was leaning against the back, staring at his cell phone.

  “Hey, Eric,” she said quietly.

  He looked up and paused. “Hey…”

  His brown eyes were completely vacant.

  Unbelievable.

  They had worked in the same department for five years, and he didn’t know her name. Her cheeks burned as the doors closed on the cubicle maze. Tomorrow she’d be the only one here, and what would that get her? Her coworkers didn’t know her, her bosses took credit for her work, and she’d certainly never receive an extra penny from the money she’d save the company.

  The doors opened, and a flourish of lime green crossed the lobby in front of her. Andrew—with a golf bag slung over his shoulder.

  I hate being right.

  She slipped into her car and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Her muscles were heavy and tired, but it wasn’t from lack of sleep. She’d been so hopeful when she’d left everything and moved to Minnesota for this stupid job, but there was no way around it; she had failed.

  She stared at the red magnolia tattoo on her wrist, her colorful reminder that life was more than datasets, and the only thing she didn’t regret doing in Minnesota. Fresh starts only worked for risk takers—not risk analysts for big, bureaucratic insurance firms. They only work when you put yourself out there—not the half-hearted attempts she’d made at the coffee shop, the craft-beer class, or the lonely miles she’d run around Lake Calhoun. They only worked when you weren’t a doormat for everyone around you.

  She didn’t think about her old life often, mostly because the memories seemed so distant and faded that it was hard to believe they belonged to her. Surely it had to have been better than this.

  If I left everything behind once, I could do it again.

  She laughed at herself. How would a new place change anything? Would she suddenly be able to stand up for herself? Would her coworkers value her more simply because it was a different place? No. The problem wasn’t the place, or the job, or even Andrew. It was her.

  What do I have to lose?

  She sat up and stared at herself in the rear-view mirror. Her blue eyes glimmered to life. That was it. She had nothing to lose. Maybe she would make the same mistakes somewhere new.

  But maybe not.

  She could get it right in a new place where no one knew her. It was more of a chance than she’d have in the cubicle jungle inside.

  She threw the car into reverse and hit the gas. Best to move fast before she changed her mind. She’d saved some money—easy to do when you had no social life. This could be the start of something amazing. She’d move, get a new job in a new place. Maybe a zookeeper in San Diego? Being a teacher was a noble profession. She’d always been good at math.

  She pulled into the narrow driveway of her beige cottage-style home with chipping paint and drab shutters. Just a quick stop to pack and to pick up Franklin, and she’d be on her way. The October breeze barely registered as she dug in her pocket for her house keys.

  Someone cleared her throat from behind her. “Excuse me, may we have a word?” a woman asked in a British accent.

  Solicitors. Nora cringed.

  “Sorry. I’m really busy,” she replied without even looking. Packing shouldn’t take long. She didn’t even want most of her things; her landlord could keep most of it.

  “Leonora, a moment of your time would be most appreciated.”

  Nora stopped. She never went by Leonora. How did the woman know her name?

  A tall, statuesque woman greeted her with a smile. Her straight, white teeth gleamed behind cherry-red lips, and her dark skin was flawless. Her vintage navy-blue dress with white polka dots was belted at the waist, and the A-line skirt flared with a bit of tulle underneath. To complete the ensemble, her black hair was styled like a '50s pin-up model.

  An equally eccentric man stood next to her. His short-sleeve, plaid, button-down shirt and worn khakis made him look as if he belonged in a lab or a college classroom. His flawless skin made him seem twelve years old, and standing next to the much taller woman didn't help either. His arms hung awkwardly at his sides, and his lips pressed together. Expressionless, he stared at Nora with crystal-blue eyes—almost the exact shade of her own.

  As they approached from the sidewalk, the woman's features stretched into a bright smile, but there was something too tight in her expression, revealing a nervousness about her. The man glanced behind himself more than once.

  Nora took a step back. She lived on one of the safest streets in America. They were probably selling something.

  Probably.

  She took another step back. “Listen, I'm not sure what you're selling—”

  “Oh goodness, no!” the woman interrupted, aghast. The corners of her mouth contorted downward, and she shook her head. “We aren't salespeople.”

  “Okay, well whatever it is, I'm not interested.” Nora turned for her door, fighting off a shiver. Something about them wasn’t right.

  They followed. “This is important. If you just—”

  “I’m kind of in a hurry right now,” Nora said, picking up her pace.

  “Leonora,” the man called.

  His voice raised the hair on her arms; it was familiar, but she couldn’t place it, and she could always place details. “Don’t call me that! I go by Nora.” She jabbed the key into the door handle, unlocked it, and stepped into the safety inside.

  “We don't have much time,” the man muttered, looking down the street.

  Her heart sped. This had gone on for long enough. She reached for the door to slam it, but the woman's long, slender arm jutted out and stopped her.

  “Please.” Her smile seemed completely out of place now, and her grip on the door was surprisingly strong. “We need to speak with you.”

  Nora’s mouth hung open.

  The man, who had turned to face the street, yelled, “They're here. Go!”

  The woman shoved her way into Nora's small house with the man close behind.

  “I don't have any money!” Nora scrambled around the couch and away from the c
ouple. “I never carry cash.”

  They were blocking the front door, and without a back door, the window over the sink would be the best escape route. But had it come to that? Could she even do it? She grimaced, picturing herself trying to leap on the counter, open the window, and kick out the screen before they stopped her.

  “Where's the cat?” the man asked, searching the room.

  “The cat?” Nora asked. They had forced themselves into her house for Franklin?

  “The cat,” he repeated. "Have you seen your cat?"

  Nora jerked her head back with a frown. “No.”

  “Good,” the woman replied with a sigh. Her smile returned.

  The man peered through each of the windows before turning his attention to Nora. His gaze swept over her in a methodical pattern.

  The woman smoothed the front of her dress. “Leonora—”

  “Nora,” she corrected, still watching the man. “What are you doing?”

  “Scanning you,” he replied. “The people outside are exceptionally gifted at placing bio-implants. I need to make sure you're not carrying one; that would complicate things.”

  An escape through the kitchen window might be necessary. “You expect me to believe you're scanning me for implants right now?”

  “Of course. How do you think we discovered the implants in your cat?”