by Kasi Blake
Early the next morning, Nick met Van behind the castle for combat practice. It was beneficial to have a sparring partner worthy of his competitive nature. They stood on the flowing expanse of lush green grass, caught between two separate gardens with a huge fountain nearby. There were a variety of roses, lilacs, and white lilies planted by a professional who knew how to plant them in just the right spot to emphasize the colors. Some sort of climbing plant with white flowers clung to the fence to Nick’s left. The gardens were beautiful, but the heavy floral scent made him slightly nauseated and sometimes the smell made his eyes water.
Both men brandished a heavy sword. Because they were accomplished fighters they used weapons while sparring, Van’s idea. Neither of them wore protective gear since Van thought it was important to learn self-control. If you couldn’t reel it in and keep from seriously harming your opponent, you weren’t a good hunter.
They touched wrists while holding the swords in their other hands. Van enjoyed talking while fighting so he started a conversation before the first attack was made. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the talking sometimes more than the fencing. Nick suspected Van also used conversation to throw his opponents off their game. It would explain his choice of subject matter.
With a sober expression Van asked, “How are things going with my daughter?”
“Has she talked to you yet?” Nick spun around backwards and slammed his arm into Van’s back. He wasn’t ready to use the sword yet. The first strike was the most important. After Van grunted, Nick asked, “Did she tell you?”
The older man took it in stride. He put distance between them while getting ready for the next attack. Taking a moment to readjust his glasses he said, “About her visit from the reaper? Yes.”
“What do you think?”
Van thrust the sword at Nick, deep lunge. His stance was perfect. Nick sidestepped to the left. The blade sailed through empty air. Sometimes he wondered what Van would do if he wasn’t quick on his feet and the sword impaled him. Would the man regret his decision to fight with real weapons? Or would he blame Nick for his lack of skills and concentration? It was difficult to say. Van kept his emotions in check. If he experienced the same feelings other people did, there wasn’t a shred of evidence.
They returned to the middle, wrist against wrist.
“I’m at a loss as to why a reaper would warn her of anything, but the information seems genuine. We do know a reaper couldn’t possibly be behind the killings. They only take a person when their time is officially up. I have no idea who or what the culprit is, but it isn’t a reaper. None of this makes sense. In all my years I haven’t heard of a thing killing on a person’s birthday. There isn’t a creature bound to such rules, as far as I know.”
They simultaneously lifted their swords and brought them down. Clang! Metal banged against metal. Painful vibration zinged up Nick’s arm. Their feet danced back and forth in the grass as they fought. Van moved forward while Nick went back. Then they moved in the opposite direction. A thought occurred to Nick. “Research time. You have Bertram’s journals. Maybe he came across something like this before.”
“Perhaps.” Van stopped fencing. Squinting at Nick as if he was staring at the sun, he said, “You are quite adept at changing the subject, but I still want an answer to my earlier question. How are things going with Bay-Lee?”
The sword grew heavier in Nick’s hand by the second, and he wanted to put it down. A mile-wide stubborn streak kept him from doing so. Van didn’t appreciate signs of weakness in anyone. Nick held the sword higher instead, and he twirled it while talking. “She’s a sponge. The girl soaks up everything I throw at her. Her combat skills are above par, as I’m sure you already know, and—”
“Stop it.” Van sounded exasperated. “Stop skirting the real issue. I want personal details. How are you and Bay-Lee getting along?”
“You’re asking if I’m falling in love with her.” Nick scoffed. “Don’t you think I know better than to let her get under my skin? Don’t you think I’ve paid a high enough price for what might happen?”
“We can’t help who we fall in love with. Emotions can be controlled, but they cannot be manufactured. We feel how we feel, and we love who we love.”
“Poetic. So why did you force me to mentor her? You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to keep us apart over the years. Why put us together now?”
“Have you ever heard of a man named Nostradamus?”
“Wasn’t he a psychic or something?”
With a wry smile on his face Van explained. “He was visiting with Lord de Florinville one evening and the talk turned to prophecy. Florinville wanted to put Nostradamus to the test so he showed the psychic two pigs, one black and the other white, and asked him which pig they would feast on at suppertime. Nostradamus replied, ‘We will eat the black pig, but a wolf will eat the white.’ Florinville secretly ordered the cook to prepare the white pig. Through a mishap, the cook left the kitchen only to return to find their pet wolf eating the white pig. Fearful for his job, he quietly prepared the black pig instead. Later at the dinner table Florinville smiled and announced, ‘We are not eating the black pig. You were wrong. No wolf will touch our dinner here.’ Nostradamus insisted he was correct so the host summoned the cook and asked him in front of everyone. The cook delivered the bad news, and the host was stunned into silence.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?”
“Some things are fate. When you try to stop them from taking place, you only cause them to happen. If the prophecy is meant to be, it will be. I refuse to fight against it anymore. It’s up to you now.”
That was a frightening prospect. Nick already had enough to deal with without Van adding another brick of guilt. Van might trust him, but Nick wasn’t sure he trusted himself. The man’s daughter was quickly becoming his number one thought in the morning, during the day, and throughout the night. Truth was she was already under his skin, big time.
Nick attacked, trying to catch Van off guard, but the other man seemed to be waiting for it. He lifted his sword and easily deflected the blow. The two blades banged together. Nick and Van went a few more rounds until they were both exhausted. It was then that Nick said, “I haven’t given up on Tyler Beck. You can make it happen. I know you can. Find a way to clear my name and give me back my life.”
“It’s your fault for disobeying orders. You shouldn’t have gone to the party alone. I warned you it didn’t smell right and you chose to ignore me. The police were called the second you entered the building. Now you have to pay the piper so to speak.”
Nick released his pride long enough to say, “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. Is that what you want to hear? Will you stop punishing me now?”
“This isn’t about punishment. Tyler Beck is dead, and I cannot bring him back. Let it go.”
Nick couldn’t do that. Tyler was a part of him, the best part. He was afraid if he lost his alter-ego forever he would turn evil. Every day the darkness in his heart grew. There was no one, nothing that could stop it. Perhaps Van was right about fate. Maybe he was destined to be the villain.
Van returned the subject of conversation to their deadly on-campus problem. “I’m having student and staff files checked for birthdays. We’ll need to keep those people safe.”
Jaw tight, Nick nodded. “If we know when everyone’s birthday is, at least we can try to protect them.”
“Look after my daughter.” Van’s expression softened. “I know her birthday isn’t until New Year’s Eve, but there are those on the other side who would love to see her dead now. She is always in danger. Never forget that.”
The thought of anything bad happening to Bay-Lee set a rock in Nick’s throat. Cold fear gripped him hard. It was too late already. He was falling for her, plunging down a hundred stories to blind and careless love. But it wasn’t too late for the world. If he could figure
out a way to make her hate him so she would keep her distance, everyone would be safe.
Now he just needed a plan.
