Rebirth of the Seer (12 page)

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Authors: Peter W. Dawes

Tags: #Fantasy, #Paranormal

BOOK: Rebirth of the Seer
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Bending, she lifted a red rose from one of the buckets and showed it to me. “See?” she asked. I fought the urge to state it was hardly the first time I had ever laid eyes upon a rose. She sniffed it and closed her eyes, then opened them slowly, gazing at me with a grin once our
gaze
met again. “Imagine this draped across a corpse with fresh blood running into the streets.”

I smirked. “You presume
humans to be the most fitting of a calling card?”

“Or the vampires you kill.” Katherine shrugged.

With a huff, I brushed the backs of my fingers across her cheek. “Pet, vampires turn to dust. When I am finished with my targets, they are little more than ash and personal effects.”

My condescending tone did nothing to deter her. She squared her shoulders, meeting my stare measure for measure as though she could presume to be my equal. The glint in her eyes destroyed any possibility of that, though, and as she said, “Then on a pile of dust,” I heard, “I don’t care about any of this. I’m just looking for a good screw,” instead. I chuckled softly; my hands fell to her sides to thrust her body harshly against mine again. Her breath caught and her lids fluttered as if deciding whether or not they should shut.

I spared no chance at further commentary. My lips crashed into hers, meeting them in a lustful embrace which only service to excite Katherine beyond her already-aroused state. The rose dropped from her hand and hit the floor with a finality bordering on poetic. If she noticed its absence, she gave no indication. She simply wrapped her arms
around me and tumbled as I pulled us both down beside where the discarded flower lay.

Rolling her onto her back,
m
y hand swept a
cross her contours
, easing her into my preferred position. I permitted myself one lingering journey
along her plunging neckline
with
a few added kisses. A soft, needy moan escaped her lips, her back arching under my ministrations. She did not see when I reached inside my jacket for
something
I doubted my little florist was expecting.

I ripped away from a heated, passionate embrace, evil
playing off my facial expression
as I pulled a knife from its sheath and pressed it against her throat. My fangs descended as she yelped and all at once, her body tensed from the pain brought about by the shallow cut I inflicted. A grin, cunning and sinister, curled the corners of my mouth in a sadistic expression of mirth. “Now that we have explored the sensual, how about we mov
e forward into the sadistic
?” I asked.

Katherine’s eyes widened. “What are…?” she asked, stuttering to a stop before she could force the remainder of the question out. She swallowed hard and made another attempt. “Are you… I meant the biting thing as a joke. You’re not really going to…?”

Pressing the
blade
deeper against her skin, I drew the first rivulets of blood and provoked a shrill scream past her lips. I laughed, the sound a maniacal contrast against the disson
ant noise she produced. T
he more she
yelled
, the more it amused me. I held her in place as I bathed my tongue in the sweet taste of stolen life.

Oh, but Katherine was a fighter and how I loved when they fought. She
wriggled and kicked enough, forcing
me
off
and scrambled to her feet once she was freed of my
weight. Stumbling backward, Katherine
nearly tripped over a bucket of flowers
, sending
it spilling as she both placed distance between us and yet, feared turning her back on me. I rose t
o my feet and stalked forward with
calm, calculating steps while
clutching onto
my knife. “What is it,
Pet
? Do you not enjoy our game?”

“Please don’t do this.” Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks once they brimmed to full and smearing the black of her mascara. Blood continued to stain her neck crimson and added to the horrific image of a woman splintering apart. “Please. I… I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t… I hoped you wouldn’t…”

“You fucking humans and your pleadi
ng.
Did you think my interest in you merely sexual?” I scoffed, gesturing with the knife as I spoke. “I could have any woman and do whatever I wished to them. If you think those pouty lips and those firm breasts are the objects of my desire, then you do not understand vampires half as well as you give yourself credit.” My tongue swept across my fangs. “
You wished a dance with the devil
.
This devil wants your blood.
And screaming shall only serve to excite me further.”

Without warning, I advan
ced, finally inspiring her to turn away from me and attempt to run
. Her feet could carry her no more than a few feet away, though, before I closed the distance between us and grabbe
d her by the arm. She yelled again as
I pulled her against me, my a
rm wrapped around her throat,
her back pressing
against my chest. I imbibed deep breaths filled with her scent while closing in with my fangs.

She had to have
a final
word, however. “Please, Flynn,” she said through her tears. “Don’t you remember what it’s like to be a human?”

“Fuck humanity,” I said with a sneer. “I am no longer one of you pitiful creatures. For that, I am thankful.”

My teeth plunged into the cut I had already placed on her neck, accelerating the flow of blood so that my lips could bathe in it wantonly. She struggled and begged and wept, but before to
o long, her body fell limp,
life ebbing out faster than
her heart
could compensate. I drew away when I had my fill, and threw her onto the ground so she could finish bleeding out at my feet.

The gait which took
me away from her possessed no sympathy for what I had just destroyed. I remained completely apathetic to it, in fact, until I came upon her abandoned rose, still lying where she had dropped it mere minutes ago. Bending, I wrapped my
fingers
around its stem and lifted it up so I could study it.


You could even leave them with your victims
.

“Not red, though,” I murmured pensively. “Black. Dark as the shadows in which I stalk.” I tossed the rose onto the floor again and straightened to a stand, dusting my hands off before
adjusti
ng my jacket in a proper fashion. As I strolled for the coven house, my
thoughts were immersed in death
,
delighted at what I would have to tell my mistress.
Beginning with the next vampire who perished
, a dark harbinger found itself
atop their pile of ashes. Within a few weeks, the brethren in th
e surrounding covens were
well-
acquainted with
the sight. I had
become the Black Rose Assassin.

Murder, all of it.
Attired
in wickedness and drenched in sadism. I relished be
ing this hitman and seduced whom
ever I needed to for the sake of
feeding my lusts. The same stride
which led me away from Katherine marked the tenor of my steps until a wily sorceress came into my life. Try as I might,
though,
I coul
d not forget that evening as a prime
example of the monster I had become.

Fuck humanity, I
had said.
And I meant it with every fiber of my being.

Chapter Eight

 

Dualism might merely be a word, but it is one used to describe a very
specific
condition. What we are on the outside
does not
always
reflect
who we
are
deep within, but often enough we are two different beings on the inside as well. While most men could honestly, and perhaps even earnestly, confess to their own list of sins, none could claim to carry the one I maintained in my pocket.

Had I a serial killer’s debts, I might have been more at peace with myself, for then I could have numbered my victims.
As it stood, enumerating each being I had killed – human and vampire – would have
filled a volume
thick enough to
rival sacred scripture
. All would have testified toward five years of debauchery, and painted vivid tapestries of varying consequence; from the evil I unintentionally rid the world of to the beauty I deprived it. Each voice chimed inside my head, one by one, and echoed to a cacophonous racket the more time I spent mired
in thought. They afforded me troubled rest. They permitted me little
ease. And the ones who shouted the loudest were those blessed souls I had stopped to know before I snuffed out their candles.

For as much as I knew lingering in such notions could prove to be my undoing, I could not stop myself. The guilt brought about by Monica’s injury had forced something to the surface which had begun to bubble when I first lamented Robin’s death. One might have argued to me, ‘Flynn you were merely doing what it was in your nature to do,’
as
I took my nightly victims, but when my brother turned to ash and my watcher
nearly bled
to death, I could no longer excuse my deeds. I knew evil and knew it intimately. While it took Sabrina’s charms to bring out the worst in me, I still savored destruction with every fiber of my being. In some ways, I still missed it, and it was that inclination which let me know I was nowhere
near safe enough to be trusted.

Monica stated time after time that I had no faith in myself. She was absolutely correct. I had
no faith in that which had
proven itself
duplicitous
.
So long as I felt the detached demeanor of an assassin plague my steps,
I could not delude myself into thinking the shackles which bound my inner demons would be enough.
It left me wondering
how
a woman like Monica could be
willing to
risk
her life for me.

I continued wa
llowing in these thoughts
as I rose to
check on her
the following night. Approaching the door to her room, I leaned against the frame and regarded her for a few lingering moments in silence. Her eyes remained closed, but a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as though she sensed my examination. A sense of warmth rushed over me at the sight, a thaw settling across the chill of my soul seemingly despite myself.

It lingered as she spoke. “Have you slept any?” she asked
.

“Yes,” I said
, the word produced with more hesitance than I had intended
. “There came a point when my thoughts were not enough to prevent me from resting. The daytime drags even the heartiest vampire down.”

“I’ll bet.”
Her eyes finally drifted open
. “
I think
I’ve had more than
enough sleep, though
.”

“You have needed it.”

“I hate being so fucking invalid.”

I chuckled
softly
. Standing straight, I folded my arms across my chest and paced further into the room, maintaining a slow, sedate jour
ney from the doorway to her bed where
I paused at the foot. “You might not be able to rest for much longer.”
The slight, upward curl my lips had begun evened out once more
. “I have not detected anything foreboding in the air, but I am certain we need to make haste in departing.”

“Yes, we do.” She sighed. Taking a deep breath, she motioned to sit, which spurred me closer to her so I could help.
A nest of pillows I had gathered during one of my insomniac fits lay on her bed, and after a brief adjustment they provided enough cushioning for her to settle upright. I sat beside her,
waiting as she shut her eyes thro
ugh an obvious wave of pain. It
took several seconds for her to relax. “When I feel better, do I get to shove a stake through that bastard Lewis so he knows what this feels like?”

A laugh flew past my lips before I could stop it. The
grin returned to Monica’s face as I said,
“I certainly shall not stop you, should you deem it necessarily. If we are in the market for murder, though, I would have preferred to make a decent meal of it.”

“I’m inclined to let you have at him.”

“Do not tempt me.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Tho
se are the people responsible for preserving the natural order? I fear for humanity.”

“It’s not their fault. They’re ignorant and stuck in their ways.”

“I could say the same for vampires.”

“Good point.” Monica opened her eyes again and peered up at me. “But sometimes The Fates smile down on us and know when we need a savior.”

I frowned. “Please do not assign me the title of messiah. I am not fit for such a position.”

“How about we call you a hero instead?” I felt Monica’s hand graze mine, patting it twice before settling atop the back of my palm. As her fingers closed around me, I found myself dr
awing a reflexive breath inward,
as though I had need of steadying myself. “We’re not done working on you yet,” she said. “You’ve got a lot to learn and I’m not through te
aching it to you. When we’re finally
someplace safe, we’ll have more time.”

My gaze shifted away for a moment before returning to meet hers. “Should we make it out of here in one piece,” I said.

“What’s this?
Flynn the well-trained assassin losing his confidence?”

The question caused me to scowl. Monica giggled, squeezing my hand when she saw genuine irritation in my eyes. “I’m glad to see that ego of yours is still intact.” Sighing, she allowed the moment of levity to pass. As I saw the corners of her lips smooth even, my facial expression softened. “We’re a mess. I’m not going to deny that,” she said. “Two of the most pitiful creatures on the planet.”

I nodded, lifting my other hand and gesturing toward her injured chest. It hesitated, though, lowering slowly as I thought the better of what I had been tempted to do. “I should eat something before I examine that,” I said, explaining.

“Believe it or not, I’m feeling better. Hard to tell, I know, but the pain’s gone from ‘God, just kill me now,’ to ‘slightly more annoying than getting a tooth pulled without anesthetic.’” She
frowned
when she saw the concerned way I looked at her. “We’re not going to be able to wait for me to get one hundred percent. I’m going to have to pop some pain killers, grit my teeth, and get a move on soon.”

“Give it another day. If twenty-four hours’ worth of rest has aided your condition, another twenty-four could only benefit you further.” Slipping away from her touch, I came to a stand and adjusted my suit jacket. The sight of the obsidian fabric hanging from my slender frame created a spark of thought, however. The self-evaluating pause I indulged in had to look narcissistic, but I lost myself within the strangest notion that I had dressed in this manner and no other ever since becoming Flynn. The fine linen and hand-tailored craftsmanship was a far cry from the first black suit I wore. Yet, the only divergence I had indulged in five years had come from my newest sword.

The red and
black intertwined generated a burst of inspiration. My eyes darted to Monica and she grinned
once more, nodding
as she read my mind. “I like that idea,” she said.

“Yes. You did tell me I have an identity to assume, did you not?”

“I did, indeed.”

“That settles it.” A smirk spread across my lips like wildfire. “
I would like to avoid returning to the hospital. Considering I did not have a chance to say goodbye to Chloe, I might be able to coax her for some medicine. If she assents, I shall look
into –” I adjusted my suit jacket’s collar
in an exaggerated fashion. “– o
ther matters as well.”

“That’s a step up from her thinking of you as a monster.”
Monica shut her eyes, her smile turning placid. “I’ll be fine, before you ask. You go on
ahead and get things sorted out.
I’ll rest while you’re gone.”

“You are certain I can leave you alone?”

“Positive.” She opened one eye to look at me. “Anyone who’d try to break in would only hear the quiet snoring of a witch. Then, when they got close enough, I’d blast them into next Thursday.” Her lid closed again, her hands settling on her lap. “Just be sure
to
arm yourself. He already fired a shot at you. I’d say that gives you enough excuse to throw a dagger into his shoulder.”

“I best not, lest I miss and get his chest. On accident, of course.”

“Of course.”

I turned to face the hallway, motioning to make my departure. I made it to the doorway before her voice halted my progress. “Flynn?”

Pivoting, I looked at her and perked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Her eyes drifted o
pen once more. “Red and black. I
t’s that dualism thing you keep chewing on, isn’t it? You know – the same dualism even human beings deal with
, too
?”

A wan smile touched the corners of my mouth. “Not precisely the same, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. Rest now, and do not concern yourself with my trivial debates. Perhaps we might sort through them later, when you have recovered.”

“Fair enough.” She nodded, freeing me to consummate my departure. Strolling down the hall, I found myself
pondering
Monica’s attempt to illustrate
the root of my introspection
through my colors.

I entered the living room and walked to where my katana angled against the wall. Taking it in hand, I was struck by the recollection of the first moment I laid eyes on it. My heart was deemed unworthy to own it at the time, and the swordmaker had been absolutely correct. The manifestation of my evil was illustrated when I ended both his life and his beloved’s. Their deaths, and countless others, could be laid at nobody’s altar but my own.

Black as death. My thumb caressed the ebony strand of the braid which decorated the hilt, pausing when it crossed over onto the one which was crimson. Red as purging fire. It hardly seemed the yin to my yang, but either way I looked at it – assassin or seer – I was called t
o be a killer. The blade would be the
point of connect between my instincts and my calling.

Red and black. The duality of Peter and Flynn.

Why not embrace it and see where it led?

With a nod, I strapped the blade to my side and secured it into place. I placed a call to Chloe afterward, entreating my old friend to be of service to us again. Within minutes, the front door shut behind me and I emerged onto the city streets, bent to see if a change of pace would assuage my soul enough to realize my destiny.

Even if I did not quite know yet what this destiny was supposed to entail.

 

***

 

I leaned against an adjacent building, smoking a cigarette while watching her approach. She strolled cautiously, checking over her shoulder every other step, and I laughed when she closed within earshot. Her eyes shot toward where I stood and narrowed at the expression on my face. “Oh sure, laugh at the lady risking her neck to conduct some seedy back alley transaction,” Chloe said.

Try as I might, I could not purge the smile from my face. “I could only hope to see you again, my old friend,” I said, lowering my voice for her benefit.

“Yeah, well, this life you live now’s too adventurous for my taste.” She adjusted a black bag slung around her shoulder and sighed. “I sure as hell wouldn’t like sneaking around knowing there were people wanting my head on a platter.”

“It is not my preferred existence.” Taking one last drag from my cigarette, I exhaled the smoke through my nostrils and flicked the end away. “Personally, I would prefer some place secluded with an attractive companion, but such is not to be my lot.”

“Most people like deserted islands.”

“Could you see me working on a tan, Chloe?”

She winced. “Probably not anymore.” As she studied me, a grin reluctantly peeked out of hiding and a chuckle followed swiftly in its wake. “I’ve lost my marbles,” she said. “I’m making jokes with a vampire.  A few weeks ago, you all didn’t even exist.”

“Strange days we find ourselves in. The both of us, actually.” The grin on my face faded, given over to a more serious expression. “I promise you I am not involving you in our mess without good cause. Monica needs to be well for us to continue with our work.”

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