by Peter Dawes
I laughed, arms extended at my sides with my teeth bared and stained red. My evening’s meal still lay near my feet, my smile containing the sated satisfaction of a full feed. “Incredibly fucked up does not begin to scratch the surface,” I said, grinning like the Devil while Monica hugged a warm coat against her slender frame. “I can name them all to you. I can tell you where they lived, what their last thoughts were.” Swaggering close to Monica, I bent at the waist and gestured in the direction of my victim. “Shall I begin with that girl over there? Or would you prefer to hear about the couple I killed two nights ago?”
Monica tried her best to appear unaffected. “What are you trying to prove to me? That you’re some sadistic badboy and I should be shaking in my boots? The act is charming, but you’re in denial.”
I laughed and pressed one finger into her shoulder. “No, Pet. You are the one in denial if you still see me as anything but what I am.”
“Running scared? Killing as many people as you can to silence your humanity? Do you think if you murder the rest of the world, you’ll shut up Peter indefinitely?”
“No,” I said, standing straight and allowing a brutal sneer to envelop my countenance in reflexive response to that name. “It is much simpler than that. I am going to kill them one soul at a time and watch you suffer as I conquer the world with the toy you gave a vampire.”
Monica studied me without speaking, locking us inside a stalemate. She held her expression steady while my declaration hung in the air. After what seemed like interminable minutes, she walked over to a stack of boxes poised next to an adjacent building and hopped to a seated position on top. “Then why haven’t you told Sabrina about it yet?”
My expression fell. “How did you know that?”
This time, she flashed the mocking smile at me. “Oh, I can read it loud and clear. I know what would have happened by now if you had. In fact, I’ll give you one even better. You still haven’t asked her why you were turned.”
“Yes, and?” I folded my arms across my chest. “What use is that information anyway? She made me a vampire and I have worn it like my natural skin. If anything, I thank her for allowing me these pleasures.”
“So, you do like being manipulated. That’s what you’re telling me, isn’t it?” Monica crossed her legs, hands pressed atop the box to brace her weight. “Funny, I’d think you’d be annoyed someone had the audacity to trample on your free will. What do I know, though?”
“I asked to be made immortal.”
“That’s what she wants you to believe.”
“Suits me. If I am the one with the power, I will make do with my lot in life.”
“Which makes you not the least bit curious as to why she wanted Lydia dead, too. Because, you know, you have the power and all.” Monica smirked.
Her statement befuddled me. Whatever she saw in my expression, be it the crease of my brow or the confusion in my eyes, she nodded in response to it. “Oh yeah, the rabbit hole goes a hell of a lot deeper. You think this is all about you becoming some licentious predator, but it’s so much more.” Monica studied me in silence, her gaze piercing through me. “She saw it, didn’t she? What was it she told you?”
Somehow, I knew she was not referring to Sabrina. “Darkness,” I said. Lydia’s words reluctantly drifted past my lips and inspired fresh echoes in my mind as some distant chorus grew in volume. “She warned me about the darkness. About those who would take advantage of me.”
“She warned you for a reason, and not because she’s a good guesser.”
I studied Monica as if I could read her thoughts. As it stood, her mind remained blocked toward me. “Lydia was a sorceress like you?”
Monica smiled. “Remember, Flynn, there are more sides to this equation than you realize. You need to consider the possibilities. Was it truly Peter who killed Lydia or were you the puppet assassin then as well? You haven’t confronted Sabrina about it. You haven’t told her about your abilities. You’re not running to her to conquer the world, as you put it. Why?”
My gaze shot away from her, attempting to conceal my one weakness. While my lust for blood had been unaffected, my desire for Sabrina had dwindled to near nonexistence. I remembered how readily she could snap her fingers and have me perform a dozen duties to please her, but lately, when I found myself in her vicinity, revulsion replaced where lust had once occupied. Yes, I was a murderous bastard with little regard for mortals. In Sabrina, though, I saw a deeper, darker evil, capable of atrocities which could eclipse my own. The thought of her embodying it unnerved me beyond measure. Even if it should have not.
No, I thought, I should be savoring her wickedness and conspiring the death of her enemies with her. I knew where such a path would lead me, though. Even if she assigned me a permanent place of worship – revered and feared at her right hand – I would serve a ruthless queen. She would have me crush coven after coven and assure nobody ever dared overthrow her. Yes, I should have been salivating at the chance of such unbridled murder, loyal to the end. But there I stood, playing parlor games with my gifts instead of surrendering myself to every vile deed my twisted mind could conjure.
I spoke after a period of silence. “Why do you unnerve me, witch?”
Monica raised an eyebrow. “I unnerve you, Flynn?” she asked. Hopping down from her perch, she paced closer to me. “Maybe this is a sign your humanity isn’t as dead as you think it is, if there’s an evil you still fear.” Pausing a few feet shy, she craned her neck to catch my gaze. “Do you know why you fear it?”
“No.” Shutting my eyes, I gestured away from me. “Please leave,” I said. “I have had enough of your mental games for one night.”
When I lifted my lids again, I realized Monica had not moved an inch. I glanced at her again and found her examining me in an intent manner. “Is this how it goes with you?” she asked. “Your worldview begins to unravel and you decide you can’t take it anymore when it starts hitting too close to home?”
I scowled. “If you want to be my helper, then do me the courtesy of leaving. I will solve these riddles on my own.”
A flash of rage surfaced on her face, but her expression quickly evened. She nodded solemnly at me. “If that’s how you want this, Flynn.” I watched her walk away, my eyes set on her fading figure as my thoughts strayed back toward Lydia. Had she truly been a witch? Granted, I knew of her interest in the occult and supernatural, but never thought there might have been anything behind it. As Monica turned down an adjoining road, she disappeared, leaving me with more unanswered questions.
My hand drifted upward subconsciously, and my fingers reached beneath my shirt for the necklace, which I kept secured around my throat. As I pulled it out, I felt energy buzzing from the pendant, something I had become aware of since the emergence of my second sight. “Damn you, Lydia,” I said. “Why do you continue to trouble me?” My eyes lifted toward the heavens, the stars not visible through the haze of city lights. Sighing, I tucked the pendant back into hiding.
The entire episode angered me. I had started to derive some pleasure from my curse and now, Monica had ripped it away. Disgusted with myself, with Monica, and with the entirety of the universe, I started back for the coven house. My gait betrayed my tumultuous, doubting thoughts, and I garnered more than a few stares from the sentries at the front doors as well as the brethren I passed on my way to the stairs. Placing a hand on the banister as I began my ascent, I winced when I heard a pair of feet rushing to catch up with me and a familiar voice calling my name.
I ignored Robin and began a hasty trek up the stairs. Glancing back at him once, I saw him taking the stairs two at a time and grumbled as I increased my pace. Robin was not to be deterred though. “Flynn!” he repeated. “Wait!”
Finally, I hesitated with the second evocation of my name. Pausing on the top stair, I turned to face him. “What is it, Robin?” I asked, not bothering to mask my annoyance while my mind continued spinning. I waited for him to catch up before continuing, my voice lowering to
a growl. “I want to go to my room and do not desire your company right now.”
Robin blinked, visibly taken aback. “What has you in such a sour mood tonight?” he asked, ascending the final stair with me and following me down the corridor. “You’ve hardly been around lately. I thought I would check in on you.”
“I am fine, thank you kindly.” My pace quickened again. “Now, if you would kindly leave me alone...”
“Hardly. Not until you tell me what is the matter.”
“What concern is it of yours?”
The way he recoiled left the impression that I had slapped him. “I thought we were confidants, but I must have been mistaken.”
“I have no confidants,” I spat, becoming more irritated with every moment he remained beside me, “Merely a host of manipulators around me, fucking with my mind. You stand in line, both living and dead, to make a basket case out of me.”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
“The devil.” I laughed. “Yes, I imagine he is in on this as well. Just call me Job instead of Flynn. It would only be fitting, seeming as though I am the prize to be won in an annoying, cosmic game of dice.”
Robin scoffed. “I should almost call you Peter right now. You haven’t acted like this since your first days as an immortal.”
My steps halted, though we were nearly to the sanctuary of my room. Turning to face Robin, I bared fangs at him and spoke in the vilest tone of voice that had ever passed through my lips. “Call me that name one more time, you uptight Irish bastard, and I will ensure you never speak another word again.”
“Look at you. You’ve completely lost your mind.” Robin strode ahead of me, placing himself in front of my door and blocking me from entering the room. “You bare your fangs while uttering absurdities and you think for one moment I am going to leave you alone? I demand you talk to me, or I swear to you, I will run upstairs and tell Sabrina you’ve gone completely mad.”
My hand landed on Robin’s shoulder, attempting to push him aside. “Get out of my way. Do whatever you want, but leave me alone.”
In a flash of anger, something came over me, making it easier for me to shove Robin out of my way. He stumbled to the side, but whether from surprise or fear, reached out for me and slapped my sunglasses askew. I stumbled backward, back hitting the door and dislodging them further and causing them to fall to the floor. Light stabbed my eyes with blinding shards of pain. “Bastard!” I said as I covered my face. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
I stole a quick glance at Robin through the cracks of my fingers, seeing his mouth hang agape. He struggled to speak. “Flynn,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your eyes...”
“Yes, my eyes. They hurt, you moron.” Bending over, I groped for my sunglasses, slipping them on the moment I located them. I stood once more and dusted off my suit jacket. “Or had you forgotten that in your abject stupidity?”
Robin failed to respond. I rubbed my eyes once more, and then regarded him, entertaining notions of unsheathing a knife and stabbing him enough times to make a vampire pin cushion out of him. The homicidal urge waned the moment I caught sight of how white his already-pale complexion had become. “What are you gaping at?” I asked. “You look as though you just saw the sun.”
He blinked several times. His mouth opened and closed to produce noise until he finally spoke. “Your sunglasses,” he said. “They were concealing it. I suddenly realize what has you so upset.” Robin swallowed hard. He furrowed his brow. “When did you acquire the sight, Flynn?”
My facial expression sank. I asked the question, though fearing the answer. “How did you know? What happened to my eyes?”
One sharp, nervous laugh preceded his response. Robin placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned close. “If I tell you, you need to promise not to react. Not out here, where others can see you. To put it one way, what was once sapphire has turned to emerald.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Your eyes.” Robin shook his head. “I remember them from your awakening. They used to be blue, dear brother. Now, they’ve turned to green.”
Chapter 17
I rushed inside my room with Robin in tow, wishing the vampires of my bloodline had a reflection and cursing our lack with my next breath. Whatever had caused that phenomenon, it had provided a punctuation mark to the dour turn of events the night had become, reminding me that I had chosen to hide my newfound talents from the rest of the coven. “I cannot believe this,” I said, waiting for the door to shut before pulling the sunglasses from my face. Depositing them onto the table, I left the implication that Robin not switch on the lamp beside where I laid them.
He shut the door and read the unspoken message. “How long ago did this happen?” he asked. Only then did I remember he had tried to ask me a few moments earlier.
“A couple of weeks ago. When that incident happened with the girl.” I sighed, my frantic pacing coming to a halt when I reached the chair in my living area. Placing both palms on the high back, I leaned my weight against it. “What did that miserable witch do to me?”
“Miserable witch?” Robin paused several feet away. “So, she was a sorceress.”
“You suspected as much?”
“Of course. If her blood poisoned you, it’s the only way that was possible. The trouble is, I didn’t know that you knew.” I heard him take a step closer, but stop, still shy of me, as if I might do harm to him somehow. “I thought she was dead, brother. Is she not?”
I frowned, as a reflex. Standing straight again, I lifted my hands to card my fingers through my hair, turning to face Robin as I did. “I wanted her to be dead. Heaven knows how much I did. When I spoke to you, I did not know if I could trust what I remembered, but later, I saw her again.” My stomach sank, shoulders weighted as I realized I could not hide any longer. “She cast a spell to change the color of my eyes. As if what she already did to me was not bad enough.”
Robin studied me in silence, and though I felt the tickle of his thoughts drifting between us, I fought against listening to them. I did not want to know, to be honest; to fear the moment when he would turn his back on me and run to report me to our Mistress. Whatever he saw in my eyes, he softened first before assuming the familiar air of mentor. “Flynn, no magic can do what happened to you,” he said. “No sorceress has that power regardless of how gifted they are.”
“Then what happened?” Something about the way his tenor shifted prompted mine to as well. My knees felt ready to cave in, and before they could, I gestured toward the seating area, tempted to ask for a glass of Scotch before we settled in. I sat instead, waiting for Robin to lower onto the couch opposite me before making eye contact with him again. When he looked at me, I saw gravity bearing down on him, making his normal sobriety even more pronounced.
“Did she tell you anything about what she did?” he asked.
I sighed, seemingly accepting that my reckoning was at hand. “She mentioned something about drawing out talents I had been born with. I was supposed to be a vampire hunter. A seer, is what she called it.”
Robin leaned against the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the opposite knee, his gaze lifting heavenward as he nodded. “Flynn, do you remember when I was training you to be an assassin? You asked what I meant when I said your nature had factored into your sword skills.”
“Yes, I vaguely remember.”
“This is what I was referring to.” Before I could ask the question, his gaze met mine again and he frowned. “Yes, we’ve kept that knowledge from you. I’ve partly hidden it to protect you. Partly, to protect the rest of the coven. Sabrina ordered me never to speak a word of this until she deigned you were ready and as time has passed, it’s made me less apt to be honest with you.”
I remained silent, watching Robin and waiting for him to finish. He gathered his thoughts and continued speaking after drawing a deep breath inward. “We were in San Francisco the first time we ev
er saw a seer with our own eyes. Without going into the story, I will say the impression was lasting, because not many vampires walk away from the experience. You were born to kill your own kind, Flynn. Simply not as you have been the last four years.”
“What does that mean, though?” I asked, inspired finally to interject. “Do I have some sort of impulse to kill immortals?”
“Your witch is apparently being selective with her information. Not that I blame her. I know how impatient you can be while someone is trying to explain something.” I glowered, but he held up a hand. “I don’t know if you have a natural impulse,” he said, prompting me to bridle my tongue again and listen. “What I do know is that your gifts make you a force with which to be reckoned. We elude toward the second sight, but that comes in several forms. Not the least of which includes some psychic phenomena.”
“I know about that already,” I said. “My perceptions have all been strange since my first encounter with the witch. After she twisted my mind around, I started to hear thoughts. At times, certain people and places inspire an ill feeling in the pit of my stomach and other things have happened. I have experienced a resurgence in the amount of strange dreams I have had. Most of those dreams are communications from the other side of the veil.”
“That would explain your reclusive behavior as of late.” Robin frowned. “We are all fortunate that Sabrina hasn’t noticed it.”
“Or if she has, is not apt to be alarmed. Those days are numbered, though.” As my thoughts returned to Sabrina, I heard the echo of Monica’s questions and cursed myself for wanting an answer to them. “Did Sabrina know this about me? Is that why she wanted me to be turned?”
The solemn way he regarded me nearly made my heart ache. “Yes,” he said, “although it was only a suspicion when she first met you. Those emerald eyes you now have are a sign of the supernaturally gifted. They’re usually our only warning. To find a would-be seer is extremely difficult, if not impossible, because you give no other indications beforehand. Your lot simply walks around like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode.” Robin paused, leaning forward in his seat and folding his hands together. “But your eyes were the same shade, only in blue. When your subsequent meetings with her continued to pique her curiosity, she made the decision to turn you. I must be honest. I was against this from the start. One such as you was never meant to be one of us.”
