Autumn's Eyes (Storm Season Book 1)

by J. L. Sutton

  He held the bottle in his hand, and as he twirled it between his fingers a thin layer of hoarfrost formed around the glass. Before I could reply he unscrewed the cap, poured a finger into a cup and placed it in front of me, filling his own with a third of the bottle.

  “Drinking in a graveyard?” I asked skeptically as I lifted the cup and tentatively sniffed the cool amber liquid. “Isn’t that a little disrespectful?”

  “I’m dead, and you don’t see me complaining,” Sebastian said, an unusually serious expression crossing his face. “We all deal with death in different ways kid. None are more valid, correct, or respectful than others. Take me for example—after I died, I attended my own funeral. Not exactly tasteful, I know, but it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I wanted to see how the people I knew really felt about me. I hid in the corner of the church, looking out across the sea of faces and tried, rather poorly, to search through their emotions. I remember looking into my families eyes, and I just couldn’t stand the thought of them being so upset that I was gone. I wanted to see them all smile, and celebrate the good times we had. I realized that day I would much rather have the ones I love set aside their grief and make new, happy memories, than act proper and dwell on the old ones they had with me.”

  “She would’ve liked that.” I nodded, holding up my cup in a toast as I pulled Claire’s young, smiling face into my mind. “To Claire.”

  “And to me.” Sebastian grinned, draining the full glass in one long sip before smacking his lips. “Mmm. Sawdust.”

  We both chuckled, and surprisingly, I had to admit the weight bearing down on my chest lessened a fraction. “Can you even get drunk?”

  “Not really.” He shrugged as he refilled his cup, before handing me the bottle. “But no one should ever drink alone.”

  We sat in silence for a while, listening to the wind rustle through the trees as we nursed our cups, and I collected my thoughts. It felt good to laugh again, and for the first time since I could remember, thinking about Claire didn’t just hurt—it also gave me a modicum of strength. I had my life back, my sister was cared for and it felt like I could finally breathe again. I wouldn’t say what happened to Reese brought me peace, but I was glad he couldn’t ever hurt anyone again. That was worth whatever price was heading my way.

  “So why were you looking for me anyway?” I asked after watching Sebastian emptying his cup for the third time. I wasn’t even sure I could survive the quantity of scotch he consumed.

  He put his cup over the top of the bottle and sighed. “Logan has ‘requested’ your presence. You were the only one who saw what happened that night, so it makes you our best lead to find the renegade.”

  “I can’t say I feel the need to do him any favors right now.”

  “I know how you feel,” Sebastian agreed, his eyes tightening. “But it isn’t his fault—he’s just following orders, same as Dawn was. It might go a long way to helping her out though.”

  Helping Dawn. Now there’s something I never would’ve thought happening. Wasn’t she the one who was supposed to bail me out of trouble? It was strange even thinking of Dawn, with all that power locked in her deceptively delicate frame, as someone who could ever require any form of saving. The Styrofoam cup spun in my palm, dancing across my fingers for a moment before I crushed it into a sticky ball. “What’s going to happen to her?”

  Sebastian sighed heavily. “I’m not sure. What happened the other night did help to swing things in her favor, but unfortunately because of the renegade’s involvement, Logan had no choice but to bring this up the chain of command. That’s why you haven’t seen us lately. We’ve been ordered to keep a safe distance until it’s decided what the best course of action is. Under the circumstances, no one really wants her to be punished. Dawn’s intentions were to protect you, not for personal gain, and if this renegade has some connection to you then she’s our best bet at keeping you safe. Still, our kind is nothing if not sticklers for tradition. And I used to think human politics were bad. Our laws dictate that Dawn will be put on trial.”

  “When?”

  “A week from now, last I heard.”

  So I still had time. Great, now if only I knew what to do with it.

  Without thinking I reached into my pocket and firmly clutched Dawn’s pouch. I wanted so badly to see her again, to feel her hand in mine as we shared the little pieces of ourselves in the private moments I came to cherish. I wanted to hear more about her life and the road that brought her to me. I wanted to know what color her eyes had been.

  I felt so out of my depth that I didn’t even know where to start. This was her world, her rules. How was I supposed to help Dawn when I wasn’t even sure what she would want me to do in the first place? Then it came to me. It started as a stray thought, one that quickly gathered steam in my head until it made perfect sense. The one advantage, the greatest strength I had, was right in front of me. It was so obvious I was surprised I missed it for this long.

  I was human. I didn’t have to play by their rules—I could play by mine. A thin smile spread slowly across my lips as I began to piece the plan together.

  “You’ve got a look in your eye that makes me think you’re about to do something Dawn wouldn’t be happy with.” Sebastian said warily, holding the expression for a moment before he grinned. “I’m in.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” I grinned back as I slid off the hood. My keys were in my hand before I turned towards the door, and as I hopped into the driver’s seat I noticed Sebastian watching me, his expression doing little to mask his curiosity. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go spring tiny Irish.”

  Look out for Volume II in the Storm Season series

  Winter’s Call

  Winter’s Call: 1. Stifled

  “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want to hire a professional investigator, to find you . . . a prostitute?” I tried my absolute best to keep my expression level, and promptly failed miserably.

  I knew when I welcomed Donald Jackson, a well-respected state attorney, into my office less than five minutes ago something interesting was about to land on my desk. The last thing I expected was for those words to come out of my mouth.

  Donald shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Just hear me out. It’s not what you think.”

  “Alright, I’m intrigued. Please continue.”

  “I met Aubrey at a bar eight years ago—long before I became a lawyer. I was lonely, a long way from home and, frankly, a little desperate. She was just so beautiful, so self-assured. We spent the night together and even though I paid for her time, after all these years I still can’t get her out my mind. I was more comfortable with her lying next to me than anyone else I’ve ever been with. Maybe it’s crazy, but I just have to know if Aubrey is still in the city, even if it’s just to get a cup of coffee and see how she’s doing.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, too caught up in the potential scandal just waiting to happen. I could see the headline now.

  P.I solicits prostitute for State Attorney

  Okay, so I was no journalist. Still, I had to admit this definitely classified as one of the most interesting cases I ever heard of. “I sympathize with you Mr. Jackson, I really do, but what you’re asking me to do is like finding a needle in a haystack. Aubrey probably isn’t even her real name.”

  “I have a photo.” Donald slipped his phone out and brought up a picture of the girl, a slim twenty something brunette with a button nose and pretty brown eyes. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll put you on retainer for the rest of the year if I have to.”

  I smiled then, impressed by the fervor in the man’s eyes. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  After Donald left my office I leaned back in my chair, running my tongue along the back of my teeth as I pondered what I just signed myself up for. When I was sure he was outside of the building I voiced my thoughts to the third party in the room Donald hadn’t known was there. “He’s deluding himself, right?”<
br />
  “I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Sebastian answered from the corner of my office, lifting the illusion that rendered him invisible to human eyes. “I think it’s kinda sweet. Love finds company in the strangest of pairings.”

  It wasn’t long ago that witnessing someone materialize out of thin air like that would have me wide-eyed and clutching my seat. Amazing what you get used to when you’ve been exposed to it often enough.

  Sebastian was a Reaper, an immortal aspect of Death whose job was to untie the bonds of mortals like me to this world when their time was up—though around here they preferred to call themselves seraphim. The seraphim were all human once, pressed into bonds of service after their deaths. It was a calling most of them took very seriously, and the illusion was just one of the many tricks that came with the burden they carried.

  They usually stayed clear of humans because they interfered with the ebb and flow of Fate—Death’s inseparable counterpart. But thanks to an unlikely string of events just a few weeks ago a seraph named Dawn made the choice to reveal herself to me. We spent a lot of time together after that, developing an unusual friendship while I delved deeper into her world, and along the way I met Sebastian and the rest of their cadre—the small community of reapers they belonged to.

  “Can’t say I ever took you for a romantic.”

  “I have my moments.” Sebastian smiled mischievously, his expression made all the more comical thanks to his neon yellow hair. Just when I thought he had run out of ridiculous colors he pulled out that gem. “But don’t tell anybody I said it.”

  I only knew Sebastian for a few weeks now, but I was quickly beginning to like the free spirited seraph. From what I learned by observing Dawn and the other seraphim, he seemed to have a much more laid back approach to being dead, and being Death. Sure, he followed the strict rules all seraphim had to observe. Yet somehow he always managed to find all the loopholes too, and potential humor, in any situation.

  “I’ll take it to my grave.” I nodded seriously, prompting a wider smile across his face. “It’s about time I clocked out for the day, you feel up to a diner?”

  One of the perks of being a seraph was doing away with the pesky human drags like needing to eat or sleep. But Sebastian was still young for a seraph. His kind were naturally extremely cold, constantly working to keep themselves in control, and even the slightest lapse could injure, or even kill, a human who got too close. That control came with practice and age, and Sebastian had neither.

  “I think I can handle it.” He shrugged, though I could see doubt creeping into his expression.

  I locked up behind us and headed down to the first floor with Sebastian a safe distance behind me, always mindful of our proximity. We were almost at my car when I heard his footsteps cut off, and turning around I saw his gaze locked in the thousand yard stare that could only mean one thing.

  The seraphim worked inside specific territories, entrusted to reap any human under their assigned area when it was their time, though I recently learned the preferred term was to “lay someone to rest”. Sebastian was in the process of receiving a vision of one of those people’s lives ending. A “siren song” calling him, as Dawn once described it. Sebastian’s eyes fluttered for a moment before he turned to me, his expression apologetic.

  I cut him off just before he started to apologize. “Relax. It’s hardly the first time. Meet you back at my place?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I was about to trade off shifts with Ivy.” He sighed, removing the pendant all seraphim carried around their necks from under his shirt. The uncut green gem set in the pendant served as an amplifier, assisting them to communicate with each other and allowed them to receive their visions. “She’ll catch up with you soon enough, so you won’t be on your own for too long.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I muttered dismissively.

  Sebastian nodded before stuffing the pendant away. A second later he became little more than a blur as he streaked across the street and out of sight, moving quicker than my human eyes could keep up with. It took me a while to accept the seraphim were a part of the natural order, but knowing all the amazing things they could do it was easy to feel lackluster by comparison.

  I was glad to be on my own for a while—this baby sitting was becoming a little intense for my taste. After I found out Dawn was the seraph to lay my ex-girlfriend Claire to rest I managed to convince the cadre to change my fate and let me track Claire’s killer—Reese. When Dawn later interfered in my fate by stopping me from heading down a dark road she willingly went into custody to await trial for her actions, galvanizing me into taking matters in my own hands.

  In the end I chose to spare Reese’s life, but a renegade seraph, hellions who refused to follow the strict code of the seraphim, followed me and killed Reese before his time. To the seraphim it was the highest crime imaginable, and though I can’t honestly say I was sad Reese was gone, and I saw no further threat, the rest of the seraphim thought I could still be in danger. For the past two weeks I was shadowed around the clock, and I wasn’t sure how much more of it I could take.

  It was a while since I was given a window away from prying eyes and I was planning to take full advantage of it while I could. I struggled to keep under the speed limit as I headed out of my hometown city of Greystone, Massachusetts, knowing once Ivy arrived it wouldn’t take her long to find me. Among their wide array of talents the seraphim’s heightened senses gave them the uncanny ability to track people down.

  It hadn’t been long since I visited my sister Lisa but I desperately wanted a break from the supernatural before Dawn’s trial. As the miles stretched on and the city began to grow smaller in my rearview mirror I figured I was in the clear.

  That illusion was quickly shattered.

  It always started as a hum, a faint prickle across my scalp that gradually built until the pins and needles danced around the edges of my mind. The sensation was a deeply ingrained defense mechanism humans had to warm them of the presence of a seraph. Along with the flat obsidian irises they all shared, the sensation marked them as different, dangerous, and it was also how I figured out Dawn wasn’t human.

  I groaned, fighting the urge to floor it as I pulled the car over. I knew better than to think I could escape her—not when she so easily kept up with me while my car was doing sixty miles an hour.

  A woman appeared sitting on the hood as I opened the door, the familiar platinum blond curls letting me know it was Ivy. Seraphim had the ability to assume the form of anyone of the same gender they reaped. Though I never saw Ivy in the exact same body twice the women she chose to be were always beautiful, and she always kept her hair exactly the same.

  “Running off, handsome?” she asked innocently.

  If Sebastian was the mischievous younger brother of the cadre, Ivy would be the painfully unsubtle vixen. I was fond of both of them, but Ivy had a knack for knowing how to make me uncomfortable. It was a skill she thoroughly enjoyed using.

  “I’m sure you have better things to do than follow me around for the rest of the evening while I run errands. Why don’t you take the night off?” Ivy’s raised her eyebrow as I spoke, easily catching my lie before it escaped my lips. Of all their abilities, being able to read human emotions was by far the most frustrating to deal with.

  “Nice try. Now what could you possibly be hiding from lil’ ol’ me, hmm?” she asked sweetly, thickly laying on her distinctly Southern accent.

  “Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate what you and Sebastian are doing for me, I do, but I just need some time alone. Just give me two hours without having to look over my shoulder.”

  “Logan wouldn’t be happy if he found out, and I’m sure I could think of something far more entertaining for us to do than whatever you have planned.” Ivy winked slyly, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

  A shiver ran down my spine as my mind conjured up frightening images of what she had in mind, and something told me I didn’t want to find out. Realizing she wa
s banking on making me uncomfortable I decided to change tactics.

  “Please?” I smiled, hoping whatever charm I possessed hadn’t rusted away years ago. “It will be our little secret.”

  “Interesting.” Ivy returned my smile, sliding smoothly off the hood. “Very well handsome, but you owe me. Two hours.”

  As quick as she appeared she was gone, her last words barely a whisper in my ear as she brushed past me, closer than any of the other seraphim ever got.

  Yeah, that was a mistake.

  My footsteps echoed down the hall as I walked to my sister’s room, sounding far too loud inside the confines of these bare walls. The staff here at Patrick Fords Psychiatric Institute preferred to refer to the building as a clinic, but I could never understand what was wrong with asylum. It sounded soothing to me, safe. I never got that feeling from the word clinic. Although I didn’t believe Ivy or Sebastian posed any harm, Dawn was the only one of the seraphim I trusted to know about my sister.

  Lisa was sitting in a tight ball on her favorite chair, her chin resting on her knees as she stared out the window. Why that chair was different from the identical one I always sat on was a mystery, but she could always tell.

  “Hey Lisa,” I said cautiously, always afraid I might startle her.

  Lisa stood slowly after a long moment, her fingers lingering on the glass as she turned to me. Her shoulder length blond hair was wild today, baby blue eyes weary, but thankfully there were no shadows under them.

  “Rabbit.” Lisa sighed softly, throwing her arms around me and squeezing tightly. There were few things more gratifying than seeing her face light up when she saw me. “You’re back so soon, soon.”

  I gently peeled her away, taking her hands in mine. “How are you?”