Rebirth of the Seer (11 page)

“You aren’t. I understand how you feel that way, but trust me when I say the sorts of shadows people like you fight are much more treacherous than you’re even capable of being. Lydia fought for you, and I fought for you, too, because the man given these abilities knows what to do with them. And he’s in there, regardless of wheth
er I call you Peter, or
I call you Flynn.”

She shut her eyes and slowly relaxed against her pillows again. “The fact that you even see your inner demons should tell you something,” she said, continuing. “If you were ever that far gone, you wouldn’t care. You’d just rip the world into s
hreds
and laugh while doing it.”

“That is the very thing I fear becoming.”

Silence settled between us, my mind spinning in some effort to digest the notch I had ascended on the supernatural food chain. Quickly, however, I determined it would take more than a few moments of meditation for me to do so. “You must rest,” I said at last. “I will keep guard and tend to your wounds before we progress onward. Perhaps Julian shall wander into the wrong part of town again and anger
more of
the local residents.”

Monica snorted, looking at me with a grimace after producing the abrupt noise. “Gods, Flynn, don’t make me laugh. It hurts when I laugh.”

I smirked. “My apologies.” Laying a hand atop Monica’s, I felt moved to pull it to my mouth and kiss the back in a gentlemanly fashion. A soft smile tugged at her lips as I lowered it. “Thank you for protecting the soul of this rascal,” I said. “Even when he seems bent on mocking your motives.”

“D
on’t mention it.” A
blush rose on her cheeks
briefly
before lightening back to her sickly pallor. Her eyes shut and our grip disengaged. “And thank you, once again, for your protection.”

“You are quite welcome. Get better… for both of our sakes.”

Standing, I left the room without adding any additional thoughts, pausing only to shut her door before I entered the living room. Mental fatigue nipped hungrily at my heels, demanding I rest before attempting to form some sort of plan for our escape. I ignored it for a little while longer, content, instead, to lie on the couch and watch the front door. My mind wandered down a myriad of paths, some dark, and others daunting, and at the end of it all, I knew one thing for certain. My footing was much more precarious. The descent seemed that much steeper should I lose my way. A mountain of concerns weighed down my shoulders, but even those could not stop the eventual close of my eyes.

Sleep became a welcomed thing, a cherished commodity I was apt to indulge for one more
day
. It quieted the notions running through my mind.

And heaven only knew how much I needed to seek respite from.

I had barely assumed the duty of being Sabrina’s assassin when fate
, or her conspirator
serendipity
,
took an interest in me. Fresh from my first assignment, with the high of accomplishment
sluggishly
blee
ding out of my veins
, I mused at how the details had unfolded
over a glass of Scotch
and found one particular element of my work lacking. Rather than
simply
congratulating myself over a job well done, I could not help but to observe my target was now dust with no stories left to tell about who did him in and how.

Such was my repose
,
when a fetching young lady with strawberry blonde hair caught my eye.

She spied me sitting at the back of the club just as I polished off my drink and
moved
to light a cigarette. A strange creature for a mortal – one of the Gothic varieties –
she called my attention away from perusing the patrons for my first human victim of the night
as she stood from a stool poised by the bar
. A low cut, black dress hugged her
body
and made her modest cleavage the focal point of her attire. She wore blood red
lipstick with
black eye shadow
,
and while my gaze strayed obediently to her chest, I could not help but linger on the veins visible on her strong neck.

I watched her stop beside my seat, stealing a quick glance at the space between me and the edge of my booth. “Excuse me,” she said, “But are you waiting for somebody?”

I honored her words with a closed-mouth smile, something I had learned to do lest the points of my fangs give me away too soon. “I am currently alone, but not averse to company,” I
said,
intrigued by her presumption. Shifting in my seat, I provided her ample space to slide in beside me and
pivoted to orient her more directly in my gaze
. “I suppose I should be asking you if you are alone as well?”

“I never come here with anyone,” she said with a shrug. “I prefer to seek out people who look interesting.”

“And I suppose that means I look interesting?”

She smiled. “Dashing and deviant. Exactly my type.”

I had to chuckle at her words. “Does such a tempting creature as you have a name? Or do I have to earn the right to know that first?”

“My name is Katherine. And you?”

“Flynn.” I smirked. “The first you shall ever meet and assuredly the last. I can pretty much guarantee you that.”

“I bet you say that to all of the women.”

“I say that to a few. The ones I choose to reveal my name to.”

“The ones who make it that long,” she said as she leaned in close to me. Katherine’s eyes met mine as much as possible through my dark lenses. “I know what you are, Flynn. I’ve been looking for one of your kind and you’re the first that I’ve finally had the chance to meet.”

“My kind?”

“Vampires.” Her lips spread in a wi
de grin. “The pale complexion. T
he air of danger you exude. You’re one of them, I just know it.”

“My dear, Katherine,” I said as I extinguished my cigarette. “You have no idea what manner of being I am, for if you did, you would run directly for the exit and pray that I gave you enough of a lead
to make it out the
door. Your eyes reek of voyeurism and your mind is incited toward lust as a result, but you are a child in the presence of a monster. Do not presume to know my kind.”

My words were harsh, delivered to instill fear into my newfound prey. Katherine only smiled at me, though, and rested her chin in the palm of her hand as she regarded me further. “My life is boring, Flynn,” she said, her grin never wavering. “I’m caught in the endless cycle of being a mortal, spending my days working a boring job with only my nights to provide me with any excitement.” She paused. “Vampires excite me. You excite me.”

I sighed. “Am I to be your escape from mediocrity?
I am not a romance novel, P
et.”

“Oh no, you’re something much better.” Katherine’s foot touched my leg as her eyes remained glued on me. “Humor a mortal before you bite her,” she said with a wink. “Tell me more about you.”

It was obvious she thought this all a game – a
temptation
she could
satisfy
in the same way
mortals
indulge
d
thrill-seeking. She knew
, in a dry
,
foolishly
unimpressed
manner,
this creature held the capacity to do her mortal harm
, but the synapses
had not yet fired the warning that this one, in particular, was cruel and sadistic. There would be no charming her way out of this encounter.

Still, I decided to paw at my new toy. “What do you wish to know?”

“What do immortals such as yourself do with your time?” Katherine cocked her head to the side as if settling in for a tale. “In other words, how do you fill the time between feeding and sleep?”

“That depends on the immortal in question. Some lie about in sloth, content to waste years away as little more than connoisseurs of decadence. Others make a name for themselves and rise to power as heads of covens or distinguished members of the vampire community.” I
allowed
a smirk to play across my lips. “Then, there are those of us who have…” Opening my mouth wide enough to reveal the tips of my fangs, I gave Katherine a show. “… other hobbies.”

A shiver ran up her spine as I confirmed her suspicion
, and
the danger seemed to entice
her that much more. “W
hat hobbies would that be?”

“Some of us
are masterful killers
–
ones who take pleasure in the hunt and feed from terror long before we taste our first drops of blood. We stalk the streets in search of our victims and more often than not, they are never seen or heard from again.” A
wicked
grin tugged at the corn
ers of my mouth
as
I decided to up the ante
. “And sometimes, fate smiles down on us and gives us more of a challenge for our trouble.”

“A challenge?”

“An immortal or two to hunt.”

She furrowed her brow. “You kill other vampires?”

My grin broadened. “I am an assassin
, my dear.
I kill whomever my mistress tells me to kill.”

Katherine laughed. “Oh wow. I didn’t know vampires even had assassins.”

I shrugged, feigning indifference
. “I a
m probably something of an anomaly. I have a mistress with enemies who would seek her downfall, so I slay them to ensure her leadership over the coven remains intact.”

“Y
ou have a mistress
?” Her eyes
lit with wonder. “Is she exotic like you?”

Fighting th
e urge to roll my eyes, I nearly gagged on
the groan I choked back and wondered how much more of this I was apt to endure. Boredom had already set in, but I could hardly end our banter the way I had intended while still in the midst of a crowd of humans. “I am certain you fancy us all to being the same way,” I said
while gently kicking
her
foot away from my leg and leaning
forward even further in my seat. My hand touched her arm and
slid
toward her fingertips. “Dresse
d as you are in Gothic attire.
Victorian in our manners and our
demeanors. The women scantily-
clad
sirens
with pale skin and crimson lips. The men deep and mysterious with stamina most mortals could only fancy in their wildest dreams. And you would not be far off in your depiction.” My finge
rtips touched her cheek and ghosted
down to her lips. “But, with everything there is another layer and there are varying degrees of how exotic we come. Personally, I prefer the macabre to the pompous bullshit that seems endemic in our kind.”

“The macabre,” Katherine said as she basked in the way I touched her. “How about the sensual?”

I smirked. “Oh, I
am well-versed in the sensual, P
et.”

She grabbed my hand
in such a sudden manner, I almost growled and bore fangs at her. Holding back my malice, I allo
wed
myself to be coaxed
toward her
, sliding
to the edge of my seat
. “I have some place to show you, Flynn,” she said. “It’s only a few blocks from here.” Her eyes met mine and smoldered with lust. “I promise I will make it worth your while
, assassin.”

Finally, we were getting to the good part. “How could I say no?” Standing, I freed my hand from her grip. It settled on her shoulder and brushed idly at the locks of her hair. “Lead the way, Lady Katherine. An adventure sounds delicious to me right now.”

“As you wish, milord.” Katherine strolled for the door
and I followed, leading
into the bustling Philadelphia thoroughfare outside. Several people eyed us
as
we exited the building, regarding the Gothic couple before them with intrigue while Katherine and I continued t
he verbal foreplay that had been initiated
inside the club. At times the stroll
was sedate and at other points, the capricious girl would demand our steps become more hurried. Within a short time, however, we turned from the main road and down a much more sparsely-populated street.

Tempted though I was
to make my move, I allowed curiosity to get the better of me. We passed several shops and entered a much quainter
neighborhood, the façades increasingly hinting of Center City
the further along we got. Katherine shot me a timid smile and a blush rose to her cheeks as a brief spell of sile
nce settled between us,
pregnant with expectation. My would-be conquest stole an appraising glance of the surrounding area before looking up at me again. “Why are you called Flynn anyway?” she asked, in an effort to continue
the discussion. “I doubt that’
s the name your parents gave you.”

“You are correct.” I could not control the smug grin which manifested on the heels of recollection. “I bested my immortal brother in a sword fight and won the right to name him Robin. He, in turn, named me Flynn. I have used it in place of my mortal name ever since. It is a vestig
e of his homeland, apparently. A
n allusion toward the color red.”

“I like it.” She smirked as her pace slowed somewhat. “Flynn, the vampire assassin. It suits you.”

“I would like to think so as well.”

Katherine paused by the door to a flower shop and placed a hand on the concrete façade as she turned to face me. “This is where I work. I like flowers almost as much as Gothic things. It’s a weird combination, I know.” Her free hand lifted to touch the lap
el of my jacket. “Have you
considered wearing a flower?”

I stared at her through my sunglasses. “An odd question.”

“Not really. I was thinking it would be distinctive. Something to stand out from all the black you wear.” Her eyes sparkled as a small, suggestive smile played across her lips. “You could even leave them with your victims.”

I hummed, my thoughts harkening back to m
y
earlier
dilemma
. “
I had not considered that.” Smirking, I reached forward and touched her chin. “You are a clever mortal, I will give you that.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Katherine leaned closer, her eyes shutting and her mouth parting expectantly.  The rhythm of her pulse increased as I
wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close to me,
forcing our bodies to make contact just as our lips did. The taste of her tongue dancing with mine brought out the cra
ving for something more. H
er scent overwhelmed me, as
did the urge to cease the charade
in favor of sating
my hunger.

She pulled away after one lingering embrace, though, and lowered the hand still touching the building’s exterior. “Let’s go inside,” she said. Katherine dug into her pocket for a set of keys and unlocked the door in a manner which hinted at the dozens of times she had done so prior to that night. Her other hand slid down to steal mine from its place on her hip, and tugged me toward the store’s entrance. “I can take you to where I keep my roses.”

I acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, and walked inside while knowing I would have to feign interest in her exhibition for a short time. We walked past refrigerated cases on the way to a doorless threshold, crossing it to enter a small greenhouse attached to the shop. Katherine stopped when we approached several potted plants and a few buckets of roses positioned near what looked to be a work table.