Autumn's Eyes (Storm Season Book 1)

by J. L. Sutton

  Thinking about it that way I could understand what Dawn meant. I wasn’t ready to believe things happened because some unseen force willed it to be that way—I don’t think I ever could, but if she was right the logic was pretty sound. If she hadn’t been there that night I probably would’ve been rushed to the hospital. I wouldn’t have given into Hyde’s wishes even if it did kill me, but maybe things wouldn’t have escalated the way they did, because I would’ve been more cautious, and he might not have felt the need to threaten my sister.

  “Are you okay?” Dawn asked, sounding almost anxious when I didn’t reply.

  “Yeah. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this.”

  She nodded, once again taking a seat across from me. “I understand you have doubts. It is a lot to take in.”

  “One thing I’m not sure of is if you really did cause this, then why are you here now, telling me about it?” I wasn’t naïve enough to say I understood or even believed everything she said, but if she was right then wasn’t this meeting a problem?

  “Two reasons. When you began to call the police I disappeared, hoping it was an inconsequential mistake on my part, and it would work itself out. Minor flaws usually correct themselves, and at the time I did not think much of it. When I ran into you the second time, completely accidentally by the way, I saw some warning signs that were troubling. Just to be sure I kept tabs on your situation, and to my dismay I watched everything begin to spin out of control. I tried to minimize the damage as best I could without becoming more involved, but of course you just had to notice things you should not have.” She smiled at me then, completely breaking my concentration. “I very rarely make mistakes. You know, you are the first human to ever even come close to guessing I was different?”

  Even with the fear still running through me I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “I’ll definitely use that one in my advertising.”

  “I thought I may have dissuaded you from looking further, but then you broke into Hyde’s home and I was forced to intervene again.”

  “Why?” I asked abruptly. “Don’t tell me someone else was supposed to die.”

  Dawn shook her head. “If it was someone’s time I would not stop it for any reason. There are no exceptions. It would go against everything I am—but the woman was pregnant. I am not even sure if she knew herself, but I was not willing to take a chance and let the child be injured. You were not even supposed to be there, and if something went wrong . . . I could not let that happen.”

  It felt like a bucket of ice was thrown over my head. Looking back at the memory from just two nights ago my mind refused to comprehend what Dawn was saying. The idea that a child could’ve been hurt because of me was almost too painful to contemplate. “Then I’m glad you were there.”

  An emotion I didn’t quite catch flickered across her face. “But it caused more problems than it solved. I spent the night trying to figure out how I could possibly undo the damage I caused. I did not like the idea, but I thought maybe if you understood what was going on then you would stay away from Hyde, break the connection before something worse happened.”

  “Makes sense.” It felt good to finally know how all of this fit together—even if it was absolutely insane. There was a plot after all, but at least it didn’t involve Hyde, not really anyway. The idea that she was working for him was possibly more disturbing than her being what she claimed. “Wait, you said there were two reasons?”

  “Aye, I did. Fate does not just throw something solid and unavoidable at you. There are literally countless roads any decision you make can lead, each having countless outcomes leading to new choices. Fate has a way of correcting itself when minor lapses occur by shifting the paths along the chain, but when something begins to spin out of control it requires a more hands on approach. Just as I am an aspect of Death, there are also aspects of Fate. If I did not correct this problem myself, then they may have found it prudent to fix the lapse. Trust me when I say that is something you never want to happen. It rarely ends well for the people involved.”

  I felt somewhat disconnected from reality as I absorbed her words. Somehow I went from being completely oblivious to the inner workings of life and death, to probably knowing more about it than anyone ever should in the space of an hour. Still, it couldn’t distract me from the fact that I was sitting across from something I didn’t yet understand. A perfectly unique, tailor made puzzle. I looked over at Dawn with newfound eyes, like I was only seeing pieces of her for the first time. She seemed utterly normal. Nothing aside from those atypical eyes would give any indication she was anything other than human. Dawn spun the braid in her hair between her fingers, patiently waiting for me to say something.

  “You know, even if it didn’t work out so well, I’m still grateful you helped me.” I said quietly, the words coming out stiffer than I would have liked.

  “I know you are. But it is still my fault. I am so sorry I got you mixed up in all this.”

  She seemed genuinely upset with herself. As I tried to think of what I could say I wondered idly if anyone ever had death apologizing to them before.

  “You had good intentions.” I said diplomatically, still not quite sure why I was trying to soothe her guilt. “Everyone’s still in one piece.”

  “You are far kinder to me than I deserve. This should not be a burden you have to carry.”

  “So what happens now?” I asked, curious to know where this left me.

  “As long as I can keep you and Hyde out of the same room, I am hoping everything will blow over without further incident.”

  Hyde. I had barely given my little B&E much thought since Dawn’s unexpected visit last night. “I’m still a little surprised he hasn’t made a move yet. And I don’t think you being there went unnoticed.”

  “I would not worry too much about that. I took precautions to keep you two apart. Also, I made sure there was nothing to prove you were there,” she said, sounding very confident. I could only imagine what she came up with. “Which reminds me—what did you do with the weapon?”

  “I’ve got it tucked away nice and safe. Why?”

  “I do not like loose ends. Bring it to me.”

  I nodded automatically, my curiosity pushing me to see what she planned to do with it. I’d be glad to be rid of the gun anyway, and something told me she was more capable of making it disappear than I was. Since Claire’s death I never wanted to handle a firearm again. Just touching the damn thing left a bad taste in my mouth. It took less than a minute to retrieve the unloaded gun from the safe in my room, but I was still a little surprised to see Dawn sitting where I left her. She did have a habit of disappearing after all.

  When I handed her the gun she flinched away violently. Not knowing what I did wrong I set it down on the coffee table before slowly stepping away from her. Wasn’t I the one supposed to be jumpy here? Dawn gave me an apologetic look before picking the gun up, careful not to point it in my direction, and closed her hands around the weapon. There was an awful screech as the solid metal in her hands buckled, folding in on itself seemingly with almost zero effort on her part. After a moment she released her grip, examining the misshapen lump in her hand for a moment before she slid it into her pocket.

  “How did you . . .” I stared unashamedly open-mouthed at Dawn as she dusted her hands off, trying desperately to rationalize what I just saw. If I had any doubts about what she was before, I think I lost them right there.

  She smiled bleakly. “Perks of the job.”

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you were dangerous,” I said, surprised by how easily the words came to me. Perhaps I was still in shock.

  “Which does not seem to bother you,” she mused. “Quite perplexing.”

  She wasn’t wrong. At this point any sane person would’ve probably made for the door. Claire used to love saying I always landed in trouble because I was so eager to go looking for it.

  My unhealthy curiosity was definitely a factor here. I was smart enough to reali
ze I definitely shouldn’t know the things she was telling me, but who could blame me for wanting to know more? I wanted to find out as much as I could. Some people spent their entire lives searching for the bizarre and unexplainable, and against all odds it just landed in my lap. But more than anything else I felt like Dawn trusted me enough to tell me what she was, and for some truly insane reason I didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “So how does it work?” I asked tentatively. “You said you know when it’s someone’s time, what happens then?”

  “One of us has to be there when it happens. In the most basic terms, we untie the bonds that hold a person to this world so they can pass on—a clean break. In a way it is almost a mercy—no one has ever truly died alone.”

  My mind drifted to Claire as Dawn spoke. I never truly forgave myself for not being there in her final moments, always thinking she died alone in the cold. It was somewhat comforting to know there was someone there when I wasn’t, even if it was a stranger. Then an uncontrolled wave of anger rose in my chest, directed at the faceless presence that took her from her family, away from me. How could anyone, anything, do that?

  “Mercy? How can you call it mercy to take good people with their whole lives ahead of them?”

  “It is not my choice,” she said calmly, though there was a defensive tone just behind her measured words, “nor was it my choice to be what I am, and it is not my place to question the way things happen any more than it is yours. None of us get to decide. I am not the judge, or the jury. Just the executioner.”

  The sadness in her voice diffused my petty anger, making me realize how futile my outburst was. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself enough to remain civil. “I’m sorry.”

  “You do not have to be sorry. This strange world we find ourselves in is not fair—I would never argue with that. I wish I could tell you why these things happen the way they do, but I have no better explanation than you might.”

  It was hard to doubt the sincerity of her words, and before long I buried my anger, knowing it wouldn’t do me any good. Claire was gone, nothing could change that. “How is it people don’t know you exist? Surely someone would notice you weren’t supposed to be there when someone dies?”

  Dawn shook her head, her expression almost amused. “I thought you already figured that detail out.”

  The next second she was gone, and I barely had time to process the fact that the couch she was sitting on was suddenly vacant when she phased back into existence, in the same spot she vanished from a second before.

  “That explains a lot.” I blurted out as a new wave of fear tore through me. The list of bizarre things she could do was growing by the minute.

  “A simple illusion—but a necessary one. The abilities I have all serve some function in helping me perform my duty.”

  “This is too weird.” I felt like at any moment my brain was going to overload with the impossible, just one drop more and I’d shut down. The idea that things like her were walking around, without us ever knowing, would definitely take some getting used to. How many times had I walked past a stranger that may have not been human?

  “Think about it this way—whatever made you also made me. So does it really make a difference knowing? Nothing has changed. We were here before you took your first breath and you never gave it a second thought. I am as much a part of the natural order as you are,” she spoke quietly, noting my obvious apprehension. When she put it like that it didn’t seem so overwhelming, but things would never be the same for me. Not after this.

  “I guess you’re right,” I hedged. “Are there a lot of you, Reapers I mean? Wait, should I call you a Reaper?”

  “There are many names for my kind, reaper works as well as anything.” She shrugged. “Most of us around here call ourselves seraphim.”

  “Doesn’t that mean angel, or something?”

  “A common misconception. Like so much written history the word’s true meaning was lost over the years. Literally, it means ‘winged one’.”

  “You can fly too?”

  “No, I cannot fly,” she said, the corners of her lips fighting a smile, “It is just a name. And yes, there are quite a few of us. It is a big world after all. I can hardly be expected to be everywhere at once.”

  “Are the others like you?” I asked hesitantly. “The way you look?”

  “If by that you mean we look more or less human, then yes.”

  “But not the eyes,” I guessed, remembering the blond woman from the security tapes.

  “The mark of the seraph.” She nodded, looking almost impressed. “We all have it, a deterrent meant to single us out from humans so you keep your distance from us. Just like the strange sensation you feel when you are near me.”

  I wouldn’t call her eyes terrifying, but they were pretty effective. Anyone who found themselves looking into them would be on their guard. Thinking about it now, I was surprised I didn’t shove her away the first time I saw them staring back at me. “If you knew what could happen when you helped me that night, then why did you take the risk at all?”

  “I think I have said enough for one night.” She stood then, taking a hesitant step towards the door. I couldn’t tell if she really thought that was true, or if she was avoiding the question. “You have a lot to think about. I trust you will keep this information to yourself?”

  “Of course,” I answered automatically. Even if for some reason I would want to share, anyone I told would be hastily booking me a room across from my sister’s. “Are you . . . will I see you again?”

  “I will be keeping an eye on you until I can be sure my mistake is rectified.” She lingered at the door, her expression hidden behind her hair. “I am not sure it is wise, but I will see you again, if that is what you decide you want.”

  Dawn was gone before I could reply, vanishing into thin air as the door swung closed behind her.

  I felt the wall of stinging fog around my mind that she claimed was caused by her presence fade away as I stared out the window, grateful to be rid of the sensation. The second I was sure I was alone what little control I managed to maintain began to slip as I felt the full weight of what I learned hit home. How I had managed to keep it up for so long was beyond me. I could feel my mind trying to escape into the babbling hysteria and disbelief lying just beneath the surface. It would be so much easier than to face this new reality—the one where Death and Fate walked among the living. Sitting on the cliff I convinced myself I was strong enough to handle whatever truth came my way. I was beyond doubtful now.

  Slouching onto the arm of the couch I let myself go, drifting into the swelling terrors my mind was conjuring in the wake of Dawn’s revelations. Fear was healthy, a natural response to dealing with things you couldn’t control, not that I ever really felt in control. I wasn’t enthused by the idea of an omnipresent Fate governing my life to any degree whatsoever, but I couldn’t help wondering if some events in my life could’ve been preordained. It would explain a lot. Dawn was right about one thing though—it didn’t really matter whether or not I knew. I always believed in chance in some form—this wasn’t really much different when you thought about it. Life happened one way or another.

  It presented quite a conundrum though. If I didn’t believe I had a destiny or some general plan for my life, I couldn’t exactly be upset about not being able to change it. You couldn’t have one without the other.

  Tonight definitely gave me more questions than answers. Was I willing to believe what I was told? I desperately wanted not to, but on some level I knew it was true. One glimpse into the depths of her eyes was all the confirmation I needed. Not that it made knowing any easier to accept. How many lives had Dawn snuffed out? She said herself she was deceptive, how could I trust anything she said?

  So much uncertainty, yet one thing was absolutely certain—there would be no rest for me tonight.

  10. Tightrope

  I had a sneaking suspicion that fate, if in fact it did exist, was determined to make these la
st few days as uneventful as possible. After everything Dawn told me I really had to stop using the word so loosely, but right now it seemed appropriate.

  At first I was looking forward to being on this job, something to remind me there was still some normal left floating around the world. Now I was resolved that if Jacob’s wife Molly didn’t start doing something illicit or scandalous very soon, I’d have to slash her tires just to break the monotony. Last night Molly spent the entire night at home watching quite possibly the most pointless reality show ever invented—and that was saying something. Today I had already endured four straight hours of clothes shopping. That was before lunch. I was starting to think my client was a lot more paranoid than I initially gave him credit for. While suppressing another bored sigh I bitterly wished she would step on the gas and get home so I could call it a day. There were only so many photographs of her doing anything but acting suspiciously I could take before I threw myself out my moving car.

  Maybe this situation with Dawn was starting to get to me—I couldn’t remember ever being so agitated on a job before. I knew it was selfish. I was being paid to be here, but having all this time alone with nothing to do except think was beginning to take its toll on my already bruised psyche. With my mind so far away I probably shouldn’t even be on this case, being so focused on Dawn could let little details slip through the cracks. Okay, on this particular case, maybe that was a stretch.

  Dawn hadn’t made another appearance since the night she told me what she was. I still couldn’t bring myself to say the word out loud. There were so many questions that kept surfacing, gnawing away at me without rest or pity. Answers that maybe I shouldn’t know, or didn’t want to know. There were probably more reasons than I could count why I was better off staying away from Dawn, a few of which she gave me herself. So then why did it feel like there was no other option than to go looking for them, as long as she was willing to let me?