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Authors: Peter W. Dawes

Tags: #Fantasy, #Paranormal

BOOK: Rebirth of the Seer
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I furrowed my brow, catching his cobalt eyes flick to something behind me, but registering the action too late. Searing
agony
raced through my body, finding its genesis in my chest and provoking a pained scream past my lips. Shakily, I glanced downward,
s
eeing my shirt darken even
beyond
its
ebony
hue, a patch of moisture spreading at the same speed as the agony radiating into my limbs. A glint of light reflected from the tip of a blade, lodged dangerously close to my heart.

Ian smirked when our eyes met again. “Good work, Virgil,” he said. “Do you think our supernatural turncoat realizes the severity of this discussion now?”

“I think he has an idea,” a male voice said, speaking behind me.

“I think you might be right about that.” Ian’s hands returned to their steepled position. “Now, Flynn, sit still and listen. You shifted your loyalties once, but if you want me to do something other than skin your human lover alive and wear her like a coat, you’ll shift them again. I promise you, if you decline this very gracious invit
ation I’m about to extend
, only pain will follow from here. Look at the sword protruding from you again. The next blow won’t miss.”

As I looked down again, one screaming
, selfish
demand rang through my mind, urgently summoning the one person who could hear it.


Monica, I am discovered and in mortal danger
.

Chapter
Eigh
teen

 

It had been nearly six years since I had wielded a scalpel instead of a sword, but I remembered my lessons from medical school enough to know how much in peril I truly was. If Ian wished to ensure I would not be going anywhere, he had found the perfect method.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my eyes shutting momentarily as I weathered another burst of pain. The blood seeping from the wound had s
aturated
my clothing and could now be felt trickling down my chest. The longer Virgil kept the blade in place, preventing my injuries from healing, the dizzier I became. I gripped the arm rest tightly and glared at my foe. “I have no bloody idea how you expect me to listen while in the throes of excruciating pain.”

“Oh, I think you hear me just fine,” Ian said. “You’re still cogent enough to swear at me.” He stood, plucking his cane from his desk and pacing around to the other side, where he sat on the edge in front of me. The cane’s tip dug into the carpet, with both of his hands resting on the jewel on top. “Now, shall we discuss this former assassin and how he came to become a seer? Or should we start with how he became immortal in the first place?”

“Is there music to accompany this ballad?”

The end of his cane rose before I could register the action, the tip
pressing against
the area beside where the sword yet protruded. I cried out in response as another agonizing surge crippled me, causing my vision to swim. My fangs descended beyond my volition. “I am just angry enough at you robbing the vampire collective of Sabrina to make you suffer a little first, Flynn,” Ian said with a scowl. “Don’t try my already frayed patience.”

“It has a miserable ending,” I said, though the words sounded labored at best. Ian lowered his cane and I gulped in air, the reflex not doing anything to help alleviate the grief. “You see, that little caveat always seems to get left out of your grand narratives on the glories of being a vampire – the portion where our humanity is ripped from our souls.”

“Humanity is weak and we own eternity.” Ian leaned closer. “Now, I’ve insulted your ignorance, but let me switch tracks and actually compliment you. There are not many elders, let alone neophyte upstarts, who gain such a mythic reputation so fast. You witch undoubtedly gave me your human name when we were introduced and you’ve played along because you know word of your exploits has been told from sea to shining sea. I have to confess, if I didn’t already know about you and your coven, I might have been tricked. I might’ve even ignored those blazing green eyes of hers. But I know you, Flynn.” His lips parted in a cunning smile. “I know exactly what you could become.”

I issued a weak laugh. “If only my abilities had emerged on their own, you might have had a willing participant. Thankfully, my watcher found me first.”

“And she has poisoned your mind, dark one. But that doesn’t change what you once were and what you are today. A man with as killer of an instinct as you possess, housed with such potential. And yet, I’d be willing to bet you do
n’t know the half of it.

“If I had the foggiest notion of what you spoke, I might know how to answer.”

“You are unique,” he said, raising his voice. “The first of your kind to walk the earth in centuries.” Reaching down to clasp my chin, he forced my eyes to meet his. I grimaced. “And yet, you are more than just some simpleton seer. The immortal kiss was given to a being with such power, the mortals should be dropping to their knees. And yet, you ran. You have no entourage of supernatural slaves in your train, all cogs of the Order’s design. They rejected you, didn’t they? Those short-sighted, weak, and temporary creatures, and yet you defend them when you could be so much more.”

Even past the unrelenting waves of pain, I winced internally at his words. “Do tell, Ian, what more could I be?”

“The leader of armies. The key to ushering in a new order. Your powers could unseat the humans and bring the vampire collective to the place where they belong. Dark child, you are not one of th
ose putrid, decaying corpses any longer. Y
ou’re a vampire and
could be a god among immortals.
My former apprentice squandered you petulantly.
The Black Rose Assassin?
You could be a prince, if only you channeled your energies to the aid of your own kind.”

“Once again, you are late with your proposition. And as my older brother was oft to say… turnabout is fair play, Ian.”

Ian furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to respond, but stopped abruptly as he looked up. “Virgil, get down!” he yelled, gesturing toward his second-in-command with his free hand.

I only smirked, for I had sensed it coming.

Borrowing Ian’s vision for a brief moment, I saw the
sai travel through the air, thrown
from Mark’s hand and on a direct collision with Virgil’s back. He spun around to heed Ian’s warning, but the command had been issued without enough time for follow-through. It plunged into Virgil’s chest and within seconds, he was nothing but ash.

Ian knocked me from his perspective, but my smile lingered. “Now, who is the ignorant one?”

My captor sneered, but I did not afford him the chance to answer. In a glorious act of defiance, I focused as much of my energy as I could muster, and directed it all to Ian in one, large burst. The telekinetic wall which impacted him sent him flying
over his desk
, bringing him to the ground with a violent thud. For as drained as it left me, it gave my rescuers a chance to cover the
remaining
distance.

Monica assumed a place by my side. Ian came to a stand, his eyes flicking first to her before settling on the trio who
walked up
behind me. His gaze turned cold. “Turnabout, you say? Very well.” When he looked to me again, he smiled broadly. “Another time, then, Flynn.” I lifted my hand and attempted another surge of telekinesis, but the attempt fell short and the world blackened before coming back into focus again. In the short amount of time it took for me to recover my senses, Ian had dashed to a window and opened it. Wesley gave chase, but Ian jumped before my human accomplice could reach him.

Unable to move – a sword still protruding from my chest – I could only watch helplessly and then slump to the side once our antagonist escaped. The respite was short, however. I cried out again when someone ripped the sword from my back and began sliding forward, stopped only when Monica charged in front of me and caught me before I could fall. I smiled weakly at the blurry image of her face. “Thank you, love,” I said, “You were just in time.”

She rested my limp body against her shoulder and crouched, running her fingers through my hair in gentle strokes. “I was afraid we’d be too late. The guys had trouble with the guards downstairs.”

My eyes rolled back momentarily. I blinked twice, but could gain no more focus on the world than I already had managed to achieve. “You came. That is all that matters.” One of my hands shot up to clutch onto her torso, steadying myself before I fell atop her. “We must leave immediately. The moment the others are aware of what happened, they shall overwhelm us and I cannot fight. Where is…?”

Something moved in my periphery. I glanced up in time to see a figure vaguely resembling Wesley standing next to us. His eyes were upon me, though, and impairment or not, I could read the frown on his face beyond the shadow of a doubt. This had to be a sight. My immortal body sought to heal itself. My blood loss had not driven me past my senses, but the steady drumming of three pulses ensured retracting my fangs would be impossible until I fed. My hand shifted from Monica to the wound on my chest, and as I felt her lift, I wobbled to my feet and groaned with every movement. It took several tense seconds for me to stay upright.

“You son of a bitch,” Wesley said.

I sighed. “Wesley, do not allow your prejudices to blind you. We are all in grave danger. That man you just ended was one of his children and he will seek hell as recompense.” I narrowed my eyes until he came more into focus. “We can discuss this further in safer quarters.”

He refused to budge, however, shaking his head slowly in response. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. It was you, wasn’t it? You’re
the bastard who killed Lydia.”


Wes,
not now,” Monica said, struggling in the effort to keep me upright.

Wesley looked at her and laughed. One hand rose, a finger pointing at me. “And you’re helping him – the thing that killed your sister. Don’t you have any fucking sense of loyalty?”

I felt Monica tense against me. I shivered and clutched onto her, wavering enough to knock her from whatever angered comeback I knew was inevitable from my watcher. She looked up at me and I directed my words to her. “If we are to make it, we must leave now. The Council is in some form of danger. We must resolve our differences elsewhere, before we meet our ends first.”

“I’m not going anywhere with–

“Oh, sod off, Wes,” Jesse said, entering the discussion. He became a multi-colored blur, walking to my other side and helping Monica take hold of me. His face was pointed, however, in the direction of his friend. “I seem to recall the sermon that Lydia was killed by the bloody vampires.”

“Well, what the fuck do you call that?!”

It might have been my imagination – perhaps wishful thinking on my part – but I swore I saw Jesse scowl at Wesley. “This is a seer. For better or worse, he’s what The Fates gave us and Monica trusts him.
Don’t you trust
her?”

“There are others coming,” Mark said, interrupting.

“Wesley, this is neither the time, nor the place,” I said. “Move now. Issue my execution order later.”

Wesley huffed, closing the distance between us and relieving Monica of the burden of my weight. He and Jesse both wrapped arms around my torso, enabling me to start the laborious task of walking. The initial extension of my arms around their shoulders flashed brilliant sparks of agony across my chest anew, but miraculously I was able to focus past even this. Fresh rivulets of blood trickled down my chest as I took my first steps.

“Mark,” I said, capturing his attention as we entered the corridor. “I have a few knives, if the need arises.”

He
offered a reluctant grin
. “If the need arises, vampire seer,” he said.

I nodded, my vision swimming with the effort and telling me I needed to focus on the task at hand. Mark and Monica flanked us on both side at first, but then they stepped ahead of us as we rounded the corner and faced our first wave of antagonists. Mark clutched onto his weapons and Monica lifted her hands out in front of her. I did not need the clearer picture to imagine the display about to commence before us.

A small pack of three had already made it up the stairs. They were felled by
an incantation and two jabs of the sharp blades Mark held in his hands. We reached the top of the stairs, but as we descended no less than a dozen other immortals greeted us. Our escape had just become complicated.

Jesse reached into my coat and pulled a dagger. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said.

The knife disappeared into the chest of a vampire. The remainder of my daggers suffered similar fates and whatever we could not kill, we injured enough to break through t
o the other side
.
That sense of something being wrong surfaced through the battle; even in my infirmed state I wondered at how readily Ian’s minions were slain. Another chill crawled up my spine as we exited the building, something flickering in and out
from the corner of my eye that I could not put my finger on.

I was led to a waiting car before I could stop to question it.

My body slumped against the window of the back seat, a few fleeting thoughts springboarding from one to another in my incapacitated state. The car belonged to Wesley. Monica and Jesse were sliding into the back seat. Two car doors slammed shut and the car lurched forward. My eyes lifted as my forehead remained pressed against the window, watching something I could not be certain I was seeing through the fading world around me.

Standing atop the coven’s roof was Ian, watching us depart. He lifted his hand and pointed in our direction. I narrowed my eyes at the gesture.

Then, I finally made good on passing out.

 

***

 

“God, how stu
pid am I? Right in front of my
nose and I ignored it. Of course he’s a different seer, Wesley. We both know how
often two seers r
ise back-to-back in the same
fucking
area.”

“Wes, can you shut up about this for longer than two seconds?” Female voice. Must be Monica. “Yes, I didn’t tell you the truth and this is exactly why. You wouldn’t have
shut up
long enough to hear the full story.”

“Yeah, and what full story was that? You’re on the Order’s shit list aren’t you?”

“Starting from the beginning might be better?”

“You mean the part where he murders Lydia?”

“He’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of. What counts is that he has a job to do and he’s doing it.”

I moaned, suffering the discomfort of being carried in an awkward position. A pair of hands held me under my arms and another pair had my ankles. My waist bent until my knees hovered above my sternum and gravity exacerbated the burning in my chest. It only worsened when I felt the man holding my top half start ascending a flight of stairs. “Please, put me down,” I said, my voice a whisper. “I am begging you. This is causing me an unbearable amount of pain.”

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