Seer (The Seeker Series Book 3)

by Amy Reece

  ***

  I pushed my way throughout the overgrown vegetation, searching for…what? Where was I? It looked familiar, but different…somehow. I looked down and saw I still wore the hospital gown, which was flapping open in the breeze blowing through the wild garden. Oh, great! I looked down again and I was wearing the pajamas and robe that Tara had brought me. Well, that’s better. I didn’t need to be wandering through my dream flashing my naked, white butt everywhere. It was dusk, with a chill wind in the air. As I moved farther down the path, I realized I was in Kate’s garden in Rouen, but it was not the neat, tidy garden I remembered. I paused as I heard voices up ahead, just around a corner. My heart beat faster in fear as I recognized them.

  “You realize you killed the boy?” Luc asked.

  “Collateral damage. You said to frighten her. This should have done the trick.” I recognized the voice. And I knew they were speaking French, but I somehow understood it.

  “Fine. Maybe she will realize no one is safe near her. The goal is to get her here where we can control her.”

  I rounded the corner to see Luc in conversation with the same man I had seen him with in the garden in Rouen at the end of my first visit. It was the same man I had seen in the backseat of the black SUV. Michael’s killer. Now I knew where I had seen him before.

  “Ah, Ms. Moran. So lovely of you to join us, finally. You’re a bit underdressed for the occasion, but no matter. Come, we have much to discuss.”

  “No! You killed Michael! You shot him!” I tried to turn and run, but my feet felt like they were mired in molasses. “No!” I screamed.

  ***

  “Ally! Wake up! God, sweetheart, wake up!”

  I opened my eyes to Jack, sitting on my bed, looking sleepy and worried. Apparently he hadn’t gone home like I asked him to. I launched myself into his arms, tears streaming down my face. I clutched the back of his shirt desperately and tried to calm my breathing. I could hear my heart rate monitor beeping crazily at my bedside. “I’m okay. It was just a dream, wasn’t it?” But I knew it had been more than a normal dream. I sat back and cupped my hand around his scruffy jaw. “I need you to call Rémy.” My head hurt too much to try to communicate with him mentally. Jack looked at me, hard, but didn’t question me. He just got his phone out, dialed, and handed it to me.

  “Rémy? I know who did it.”

  He arrived within fifteen minutes, looking rumpled and sleepy. I realized I had never seen him less than perfectly groomed. He sat on the edge of my hospital bed and I reached to stroke his unshaven cheek.

  “Thanks for coming so fast.”

  “Of course, chérie. Tell me.” He held my hand.

  “It was Luc—I mean, he wasn’t the shooter, but it was the guy I saw with Luc last summer.” I explained to both Jack and Rémy how I had stumbled upon Luc talking with a man I had never seen before in the back gardens of the estate in Rouen. I told them about the dream I had just had that was obviously more than just a dream. “I think Luc sent him to follow me, to scare me. That’s who’s been stalking me all this time. It wasn’t Michael. He just sent the ads. They want to control me. No one around me is safe, Rémy.”

  “Okay, chérie, calm down. Jack will kick me out if I get you upset.” He tried to lighten the mood.

  “Rémy, all the dreams, the visions I’ve been having, they’ve all been about what happened in the parking garage. They never help. They never goddamn help!” I stopped, aware that I needed to calm down or I would find myself tranquilized yet again. The doctor had told me she wanted to keep me another full day for observation because of my crazy bouts—she referred to them as hysterical reactions—so I knew I needed to relax. “We need to go to France. We need to tell them what Luc did. We need to stop him.”

  “I’ll make the arrangements,” Rémy said and got up to leave.

  “After the funeral. I want to be here for the funeral.”

  “Of course.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed;”

  —Shakespeare, The Tempest 5.1

  Brian came the next day to finish getting my statement. He came by himself, knowing my statement would involve stuff about Seers that would never make it to his final report. I told him everything I knew, holding nothing back; he eventually sighed and closed his notebook.

  “Well, shit. That’s just great. You know who it was, but you don’t have a name. And the guy is French and probably back safely in France by now.”

  “Sorry, Brian,” I whispered.

  “Hey, it’s not your fault, Ally. I just don’t know what I’m going to put in my report. Have you told anyone else about this guy?”

  No.” I shook my head, “Just Jack and Rémy.”

  “Okay. I know you’ll tell the rest of the Scooby gang, but no one else, please. I think I can pass this off as a random drive-by.”

  “What about Michael’s family? They don’t get justice? They’ll never know what really happened to their son?” I asked, horrified.

  “I don’t see any way around it right now, Ally. I wish there was some way, but…”

  “I know. It just really sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does. Your mom is coming by in a little while, so if you need anything you should text her. She says you’re going to be staying with us for a few days while you recover.”

  “She doesn’t think I should be alone yet. I tried to tell her that I’m anything but alone at my house, but she couldn’t be swayed. I’m looking forward to spending some time with Elijah, though. He’s growing so fast!” I didn’t really mind spending a few days at my mom’s house. She would spoil me and I would get to play with my little brother, whom I adored. I must say the feeling was mutual: I was one of his favorite people.

  “We love having you, Ally. I hope you know that. You could sell your house and move in and make us all happy, you know,” my stepfather said.

  “Thanks, Brian. That was really nice.”

  ***

  I finally got a few moments alone later that afternoon. No doctors, no nurses, no well-meaning friends or family. Mom and Grams were due in an hour or so and I had sent Jack home to get a shower and a shave and hopefully some sleep. He promised to come by later in the evening.

  I closed my eyes and thought about the events of the last twenty-four hours. I felt the tears leaking out the corners of my eyes as I pictured Michael, lying in a pool of his own blood, eyes vacant and staring. I had since realized that he was already dead when I turned him over and the paramedics had been working in vain. Collateral damage. That’s what Luc and the unknown man had called him. As if his life was unimportant. As if what was happening in the Seer world, who the next Oracle would be, was more important than a human life. Michael—poor, awkward Michael, who just wanted someone to like him—got in the way. They had used him as a tool to frighten me and ultimately control me. The guilt washed over me, through me, taking root deep in my soul. Michael’s family would never know what had really happened to him; they would be told it was a random drive-by shooting, just another statistic of Albuquerque’s gang violence problem. I opened my eyes and wiped my tears on the sleeve of my robe. I would find justice for Michael somehow. Of that I was determined. Rémy, Mina, and I would go to Rouen and tell the rest of the Conseil what Luc had done. He would not be allowed to get away with it. We would make sure he and the man who had shot Michael faced justice. Then I could come back. Then my family, my friends, Jack would be safe. Until we stopped Luc, no one I loved was safe. If they thought so little of killing Michael, they would think nothing of hurting or killing anyone else I cared about.

  ***

  Michael’s funeral was held three days later. I sat in the church, staring straight ahead and dry-eyed, holding tightly to Jack’s hand. The minister spoke of a brilliant young man whose life had been cut tragically short. We were among a fairly small group of mourners: his family, a few friends of the family, Jack and me. That’s it. Michael had not
been a popular guy and he’d had few friends. For some reason, this made me feel even guiltier. The casket was open and I paused in front of it, looking down into the face of the boy who had thought, hoped I was his soul-mate.

  “I’m so sorry, Michael,” I whispered. Jack said nothing, but put his arm around my shoulders and guided me away.

  The ladies of the church hosted a reception after the service. I was sipping the hot tea Jack had just handed me when a middle-aged woman approached me.

  “Are you Ally?” she asked. I nodded. “I’m Michael’s mother.”

  I handed my tea to Jack. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you for being here. It would have meant a lot to Michael. Are you doing okay? I heard you were in the hospital.”

  “I’m fine. I got out a few days ago.” I could think of absolutely nothing else to say to her. I was alive and her son was dead. What do you say to that?

  “Well, I’m glad. Thank you for coming,” she said again and moved away.

  “Take me home, Jack. Please.” He set my unwanted tea on a table and ushered me out of the church.

  ***

  He held me on the couch until late in the evening. I was back in my own house and Rémy, Mina, and I were leaving in a few days for France. I hadn’t changed out of my dress, but just kicked off my high heels and curled my feet under me. Jack pulled an afghan over me and let me cry, knowing I needed to release some of the emotion I held inside. We didn’t speak much; he knew I needed to go to France to confront Luc, but he was worried. It was difficult for him to trust my safety absolutely to Rémy but I knew he was trying to be supportive. I couldn’t possibly have loved him any more than I did at that moment, but the only thing I could do was hold him. Finally, around midnight, he picked me up and carried me to my bedroom. He helped me unzip my dress and pull on my sweats. When he kissed me and made a move to leave, I held tightly to his neck and whispered, “Please stay. Please.”

  “Okay, babe. Okay.” He kicked off his shoes, removed his shirt and tie and pulled me down next to him on top of my comforter. He reached down and pulled up the blanket I kept folded at the foot of my bed, covering us with it as he spooned around my back. “Try to sleep, Ally. I’m here.”

  ***

  I sat beside Mina in first class on the flight to Paris. Rémy sat across the aisle from us, reading a French newspaper the flight attendant had given him. Jack had driven us to the airport in my SUV and leaving him had been more difficult than ever.

  “I don’t want to go, Jack,” I said, hugging him tightly before I went through security.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he replied. “But I know you need to tell them about Luc and make sure he never does this again.”

  Rémy had decided not to let anyone know we were coming so that Luc could not be forewarned and disappear.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I promised.

  “You better be.” He kissed me and left, taking a good chunk of my heart with him.

  I felt a hand on mine and glanced over to see Mina looking at me, concerned. “I’m okay, Mina. This all just seriously sucks. I’m so over this whole Seer thing.”

  She smiled crookedly. “Yeah, for sure.” I couldn’t help but smile at her attempt at American idioms, which sounded ridiculous in her charming Irish lilt.

  I read for a few hours. Sense and Sensibility was one of my all-time favorite comfort books and I was able to lose myself for a while in early 19th century England and the trials and tribulations of Elinor, Marianne, Edward, and Colonel Brandon. Their lives seemed so simple and pastoral compared to mine. I slept the rest of the way, not waking until I felt the landing gear being activated.

  It was early morning in Paris, and Rémy navigated the rental car through the busy streets without a problem until we were on our way to Rouen. He talked strategy nearly all the way: how we would enter the estate quietly and talk privately with Kate and Phillipe before any of the rest of the Conseil, who happened to be in residence, were even aware we had arrived. They would know how to handle Luc, how to make sure he and the unknown man were brought to justice. I didn’t add much to the conversation, but just stared out the window, hoping it would all be over soon.

  When we arrived at the estate, Rémy pulled around to the back entrance and we entered through the kitchens. He greeted the staff that were cleaning up from breakfast and asked them to keep our arrival quiet until we had seen Kate. André, the butler, checked to see that the hallway was clear before we emerged into the living quarters and made our way to Kate and Phillipe’s private sitting room, where André informed us they were to be found.

  Kate was flabbergasted to see us when she opened the door to Rémy’s soft knock. She stepped aside to let us all enter and then pulled her grandson close in a hug, murmuring to him in French and kissing his cheeks. “Oh, Ally!” She hugged me when she finally released Rémy to his grandfather. “Thank you for bringing him home. I have missed him so much! How long are you staying? Why did you not tell us you were coming? What is with all the secrecy?”

  “Grand-mére, we need to talk,” Rémy said.

  Kate and Phillipe listened in growing horror as he told how the events had unfolded since Christmas, when they had been in Albuquerque. He told them how the ads had started up again with the new semester, as had the roses, the visions, and the nightmares. He told them how Jack had made Mat flirt with Teresa to get her to tell him who was placing the ads. Then he told them about the parking garage. I got up and wandered over to the windows, looking out on the colorful gardens and trying to tune out his voice as he told them of Michael’s death, of how I recognized the man who had shot him, of how I had dreamed of Luc and the man speaking of Michael as collateral damage and of controlling me, controlling the Oracle.

  “That’s why we did not tell you we were coming. We didn’t want to alert Luc. Grand-mére, I know you will know how to deal with this, how to stop Luc from doing anything like this again,” Rémy finished.

  I turned, expecting to see an angry, determined look on Kate’s face as she realized what one of her Conseil members had done in his quest for power. Instead, she was white and shocked. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe this! How could he do something so terrible?”

  “Kate.” I strode toward her and knelt down in front of her. “You have to stop him. You have to make him pay for what he did to Michael.”

  “Oh, my dear.” She looked blankly at me. “I don’t know where he is.”

  “What?” The three of us yelled it at the same time.

  “He hasn’t been seen for months. He said he was staying at his house in town for a while, but he never returned. I went to visit him a few weeks ago, to ask him why he had not been to the estate in so long, but his house was empty. No one knows where he is. He has disappeared,” Phillipe explained.

  I lifted myself from the floor and walked woodenly back to the window. Tears streamed down my face as I looked out, seeing nothing of the garden. Instead I saw the faces of my loved ones, parading across my mind: Mom, little Elijah, Brian, Grams, Tara, Mat, Trina, Megan. Jack. We had come here to bring a killer to justice, but you can’t have justice if you can’t find the killer. I felt Rémy behind me, his hands on my shoulders. Mina came to stand beside me and put her hand in mine. “I can’t go home,” I whispered.

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  Taking on the adventure of writing a series takes a lot of help! More than anything, I want to thank all those who encourage me to keep writing. It’s a scary thing sometimes to open my heart and my stories to the big, wide world, but so many people in my life keep telling me they enjoy reading about Ally and Jack. Thanks especially to Lacey for calling them her bridge to sanity. Thanks also to Sheila for saying what a good book boyfriend Rémy is. I completely agree!

  Kelly, I would have been lost without your excellent translation skills, and any errors are certainly my own. Gracias & merci beaucoup!

  I couldn’t do this without the love and support from my Limitles
s family, including Jennifer, Lori, Toni, and all my fellow authors who send their congrats and share on social media. You guys ROCK!

  Most of all, I want to thank my wonderful family. They are my beta readers, my sounding boards, my personal chefs, and my housekeepers. Lyle, I can’t even begin to say how much I love you for all you do.

  About the Author

  Amy Reece lives in New Mexico with her incredible husband and two ridiculous mutts, Greta and Sodapop. When she’s not writing, she’s teaching high school English and social studies or maybe wandering through a thrift store in search of the next lucky teapot for her vast collection. She is an unrepentant bookaholic and has overflowing bookshelves in nearly every room of her house. Her favorite authors include J.R.R. Tolkien, J.K. Rowling, and C.S. Lewis–must have something to do with initials! She loves to travel and is hoping to need many research trips for future writing projects.

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