Rebirth of the Seer (14 page)

“Were you able to find what you were looking for?” A grin finally made a reluctant appearance.

“Perhaps.” I smiled broadly. “You shall simply have to see when you have rested a trifle longer. If you plan on being on your feet tomorrow, I want you not to move from this bed tonight.”

“Find me some food and we’ll talk.”

“As you wish.” I turned to make my departure, but the sound of Monica clearing her throat forced me to glance back in her direction.

She laughed as I perked an eyebrow. “Oh no, you don’t,” she said. “I’ll rest and I’m still demanding something to eat, but you have to promise you’ll show me when you’re done.”

I sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Very well. I could hardly disappoint a lady.” With a nod, I strolled into the hallway,
navigating to
the room I had been assigned, in which I had not rested for better than a week, and stripped my suit jacket from my shoulders. As I stole one final look at it, I sensed the loss of an old friend, one which had accompanied me on far too many bloody excursions. “Fare thee well and thank you for the memories,” I said to it as I laid it on the bed.

With that, I commenced in undressing. My black dress shirt fell atop my jacket and after undoing my belt, my pants soon followed. I crossed the room to where I had draped two hanging bags and opened the lighter one first, producing a blood red shirt. It covered my torso within moments
,
and with crimson draped across my shoulders, black was soon to follow. A pair of black slacks slid over my legs with little effort, and the black belt I secured around my waist held them
snugly
in place. Pausing, I evaluated the first of the major changes. The uniform of a vampire hitman had fallen to what would now be the vestiges of a seer.

Inside the second garment bag was a long, black, mandarin-collared coat with six buttons which ended at the waist. The flair of the bottom would be enough to conceal my sword and while my shoulder holster would now become antiquated, the interior pockets were more than adequate space for sheathed daggers to lie in wait. I lifted the coat, threading my arms through the sleeves. Snatching my katana from where I had propped it against the wall, I fastened it to my side and took in the full effect with a broad, fanged grin.

I brushed lint from the fabric and straightened the folds of the coat. “If Julian wishes a fight between supernatural beings, he shall have it,” I said. “He best realize with whom he trifles, though. A killer I might be, but a formidable one who has tasted death many more times than a mortal
like him
ever shall.”

With that, I went to mentally prepare myself for slipping not just into a new role, but a whole new perspective. Dualism; the cursed double nature I wore as I once did the gloves of an assassin. I might have been enslaved to immortality, but the part of me which was irrevocably vampire could at least be an asset to me now. A new set of shoes needed to be filled and I would do so one step at a time
.

Together, we resembled the Bonn
i
e and Clyde of the undead, me with my normally-pale visage and Monica with her sickly pallor. One gloved hand clutched onto my arm for support, but otherwise, my watcher remained steady as we traveled through Philadelphia. I could
not help but to be surprised. W
hile I expected her grip to be tight, her gait was confident with only one step misplaced along the way.

She smiled up at me
as if reading my thoughts. “Making
no bones about it, Flynn,” she said. “This hurts like a bitch.” Her eyes shifted toward the city street in front of us. “Thank the Fates we’re almost there.”

I smirked as we drew closer to the imposing monolith. The 30
th
Street Station, where public transportation
and domestic travel converged. I
t would be my last
sight
in the city I had calle
d home for nearly fifteen years.
I paused with Monica as we
approached the street corner. Only a
bustling thoroughfare stood between us and our place of departure, yet I remained in place even when the traffic ceased and the walk sign lit to allow the pedestrians passage. My watcher’s eyes rose to study me. “What is it, Flynn?” she asked, even though she could easily comb my mind for the answer to her question. For a moment, I wondered if she had finally adopted the policy of permitting me the sanctity of my thoughts.

It made me appreciative of the gesture. There were some matters I still wanted kept from her.

Glancing down at her, I attempted a mental assessment of the woman who held onto my arm. The tired look in her eyes gave away how weak she was, but I lost the battle against a soft grin
as I considered how well she hid it. Her traditional garments adorned her, including her black shirt, long, black skirt, and a red-colored scarf tied around her neck. The chilly breeze whipped its ends around, as though she wore a banner instead of
an accessory. Matching colors. A
sentimental sprite nipped at my demeanor, much to my chagrin.

I swallowed it back and sobered with concern. “Shall you be able to enter without me?” I asked, shifting the bag Chloe gave me further up my other shoulder. A few knives and two spellbooks had joined the medical supplies
and my old suit as the contents
contained therein.

“I’ll be okay.” She offered my arm a gentle squeeze, then allowed her gaze to shift to the building which stood before us. “Do you really think he’s out there?” she asked. “I can’t read any trace of him myself.”

I nodded, my attention shifting as well in time for the stoplight to turn red. “Yes, I am almost certain of it. The wind bears an ill omen to it, so if it is not him, it is another member of the Order.” My eyes found her again. “As much as Master Julian would like to think himself different than me, this is where I would
anticipate
my target
. Allow the rats at the Council to scurry around the city, tracing anywhere in the area we might
slip off to. I would be waiting for us to leave the entire region.”

“And the airport would be out, for the reasons we discussed last night.”

“They
not doubt
have a presence there, but any stalker worth his salt can
anticipate
the movements of his prey.”

Monica nodded, a shiver afflicting her visibly. She groaned against it. “
I need to get
out of this cold bef
ore it kills me.” This time, when
her eyes rose to meet mine, they possessed much more severity. “I trust you have a plan of attack.”

“I always have a plan, my dear.”

She rolled her eyes. I smirked as the
traffic lights changed
again, and led us across the street with the rest of the gathered throng at last. Our conversation
fell into silence as we traversed
from one corner to the next. We diverged from
the pack of humans crossing with us
, headed north of the entrance, and situated ourselves by one of the columns
ornamenting the
exterior
.

Monica released a breath as though she had been holding it, sending a billow of steam past her lips. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth in what I read as a continuing vestige of our discussion. “So, what’s my role in all of this?” she asked.

I furrowed my brow. “Besides
to
stay out of harm’s way
?”

“Should’ve known yo
u’d be thick about this
.” She released her hold
on my arm and turned to face me. One hand balled into a fist,
settling on top of her hip. “Let me rephrase the question. What’re you going to be doing?”

I sighed. Touching her
good
shoulder, I provoked her around a
gain to face the train station
and lifted my other hand to point further down the street. “This is the eastern front of the building. The main entrance on this side is where you shall enter, but I wish you to wait for my signal before doing so. Hide amongst the crowd, or duck into a shop if you need to, but do not approach the ticket counter until you see me dash for the opposite end of the station.” My hand lowered to my side again. Monica looked up at me as I glanced down at her. “After you procure our tickets, wait someplace safe. I shall call for you after taking care of Julian.”

“I still think this is a bad idea.” She sighed, shaking her head, her expression sobering as I caught her eyeing the doors a few yards further down the street. “You’re just going to let him take a good look at you and then knock him out, right?”

“
I shall do my best to make it quick, but given the fact that I do not intend to kill him, this requires different tactics than I am used to employing.”

“I already knew that.” Monica remained frozen in place, her eyes turning distant as something circled her mind in a very conspicuous manner. I watched her remain in this position for several seconds before she took a deep breath inward and shifted to face me again. This time, the look in her emerald stare bore a level of gravity to it. I perked an eyebrow as she lifted her good arm, her fingertips reaching to touch the side of my head. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“You’ll see in a moment.” Her eyes shut, and the air
nearly electrified
. I caught my breath as whatever she started doing tickled at the base of my skull. Her lips moved without producing a sound and
in that
moment, she hardly resembled the sickly girl with whom I had departed. For the briefest of seconds, she looked like a goddess.

My eyes shut against my will a
nd a shiver crept the
length of my spine. A
familiar feeling of files shuffling and being rearranged preceded a jolt which forced me to take a step backward. The action knocked her hand away. My lids flew open
as Monica’s flitted upward. T
he color drained from her face again.

She drew a deep breath inward and exhaled it slowly. I blinked, fighting the compulsion to lift my sunglasse
s and rub at my eyes. My gaze found hers again, while
my fingers thrust through the locks of my hair, smoothing them back as though whatever she had just done ha
d ruffled my polished exterior.
“What the devil was that?” I asked, my voice subdued.

Monica swallowed hard
and managed a labored grin. “Helping you maintain a little clarity.” Her expression sobered. “Guard your thoughts, Flynn. If Julian can see past them now, you’re not trying hard enough.”

B
row knitte
d in confusion, my mouth opened
to issue some demand for explanation. Before the words could make their way out, though, Monica closed the distance between us and stood tip-toed, craning her neck until her warm lips touched the cool of my cheek. An aura surrounded the area where she had kissed even after she pulled away and this time, I swore I saw the sparks which had been missing a few moments ago. I could not determine what to say, even as Monica settled
back on her heels and nodded. “That makes me
feel a lot better about your well-being. Thank you for trusting me. Now, get in there and finish this so we can get the hell away from here.”

My
hand rose to touch my cheek
. The corner of Monica’s mouth curled upward, her heel pivoting enough to twist the rest of her body and as she left me the sight of her back, I felt the need to speak something – anything – into the space between us. “Monica!” I called, for the lack of anything better.

She turned enough to line me in her sight.

I shook my head, the smile on my face a foreign sen
sation. “You unnerve me, witch.”

She l
aughed, and lilted away with our
eyes lingering until the crowd between us blocked one from the other’s view. I sidestepped enough to watch her enter the
building and indulged in a
steadying breath to compensate for the abrupt change in the air. Muddled thoughts cleared and
while
I sought refuge behind the nearest pillar, my eyes found the Philadelphia skyline and traced the roof of each impressive piece of architecture. My vision had not changed, yet something about the sight felt different, as though the fingers which rubbed against my palm possessed a force which had not been present before. I calmed, refocused
,
and
invited
a touch of the devil in
to
my footsteps again.

A devious grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Find me if you dare, you German bastard,” I said.

I stole a moment to
check the sword secure
d at my waist,
ensuring it was concealed
beneath t
he folds of my coat and smoothing
out the fabric as I s
trolled
away from the main entrance. Fellow travelers passed me by without taking a second glance; I was the shadow slipping in their midst and this was exactly how I preferred it. When I reached one of the secondary entrances, I touched the metal bar stretching the length of the door. With a hearty tug, it swung open and two paces in, it swung shut behind me.
My eyes traced acro
ss the interior, chest rising one last
time before the air rushed from my lungs in a slow exhale.

With that, the game was afoot.

***

O
perating on a
form of
blind
faith which surprised me at how readily I believed it possible, I threw my m
ind open wide and transmitted an
opening move to the opposing player. ‘
Oh, Mr. Cat
,
’ I said, envisioning the master seer and thinking as loudly as one could project a thought, ‘
You might
not
be away, but this mouse would
still
like to play
.
’

Shrugging the black bag’s strap further up my shoulder, I slipped my hands into my coat pockets and strode forward with tempered steps. The area where I stood lay just north of the main thoroughfare, separated by a long wall which ran the length of the train station. The interior an old friend, I knew the smooth, stone floor by heart and could have recreated the marble-colored walls and Art Deco homages in my sleep. Light bounced from each polished surface in a manner which offended even my protected eyes, forcing me to take an additional moment to adjust.

A gap in the wall which opened up into a corridor
furnished me with
a
place to pause.
The benches littering the heart of the station came into view, and with them a series of events played out in mental images I kept soundly protected behind a psychic barrier. My eyes flicked quickly to the door where I had entered before returning to the wide hallway and its string of possibilities.

I huddled closer to the wall. Attempting not to look two conspicuous in the process,
I advanced closer to where the room opened up and the majority of the travelers were gathered. My watcher stood across the wide expanse, lingering several yards away from the
ticket counter in a crowd of people waiting for one of the trains to board. The sight of her inspired a small grin before my focus returned to the task at hand.

My gaze
stole westward and admired the path toward a ramp on the other side of the building. A fe
w humans loitered near
the statues and engravings
decorating that area, but the largest
collective of them stood somewhere adjacent to the large ticker in the middle of the room. I crossed the expanse from one wall to the next and leaned against it as though simply bored and waiting for someone to announce a boarding call. At the risk of subjecting my sensitive sight to the rape of fluorescent, I kept my periphery pointed in the direction I had just come.