Rebirth of the Seer (27 page)

“I know.” Her voic
e was soft; entreating. H
er fingers lift
ed
in favor o
f running through my hair. “You opened a door and now it’s
all c
oming through
, isn’t it?”

“There is more to it than that. Albeit, it is as though there are two beings inhabiting my body now, one named Peter, the other Flynn.” I opened my eyes
to regard her again. “I think t
here is something I should be paying closer attention to, something invisible nipping at my neck.
To
night’s outi
ng only served to confound me
further
.”

Monica furrowed her brow, but remained silent. I paused to gather my thoughts
, and then c
ontinued speaking.
“It could be Ian. W
e know he is up to no good, but this is an urgency far beyond any I experienced
even
with Sabrina. It could be Wesley
and the others, as I know I ha
ve not fully won their favor. Or, f
or all I know, something else could be in the wind and Ian and Wesley are not the real danger. It could
also
be nothing at all.” I placed a hand on her cheek and sighed. “I
worry for you without knowing what I should
fear.”

She
frowned
. “Don’
t let yourself go crazy thinking
about it
.
Everything happens exactly how
it needs
to happen. You’ll fi
gure it out when you’re supposed
to.”

Monica’s words sparked a bitter memory to life.
“
Lydia used to constantly speak of
something dreadful
happen
ing to her. She never how it would manifest itself
,
but she was right
even if neither of us expected I would be the villain of that tale.
And now, the same thing is happening to me
. What good is
being
warned if we cannot do
more about it?”

“
Besides staring dumbly at the universe,
I don’t know.”
My hand
fell from her face,
intertwining with hers
as
it
settled on her lap. She glanced toward the floor and furrowed her brow. “Is that the big thing bothering you?”

I followed her g
aze, seeing the katana laid
where I had left it. “Oh, right, that.” My gaze shifted back to Monica. “For the lack of a better way of putting it, my sword has begun talking to me.”

Her face contorted first before a stream of uproarious laughter poured from her lips. I smiled sheepishly and watched as she collapsed onto her back and clutched her stomach.
“
I’m sorry, I…” Monica continued indulging the fit of hysterics before starting to compose herself. Marginally. Just enough to finally speak. “You said
your
sword is
…
talking to you?
”

“Yes, when I picked it up last night, I could detect
a strange aura emanating from it.
I have studied it since then and had the same thing happen each time.
Perhaps it is some form of energy
,
but
I cannot tell what
that means
.” Checking first to see where my much-calmer watcher laid, I fell onto the bed. A tremendous surge of exhaustion crashed into me once my back hit the mattress. “Monica, I am slipping into madness,” I said. “Stake me now before I become unhinged.”

She chuckled and rolled to her side. Rather than reaching for a means
to my end, she curled up beside
me and rested a hand on my chest. A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. I turned my head to look at her and played idly with the blonde strands in her hair. “I have always found this curious,” I murmured. “I have never known anyone to have a completely different color in one section of their hair. Has it always been like this?”

She smiled. “It happened when my father gave me my abilities. Some people wondered if it was The Fates’ way of saying th
ey set me apart
. Like I was born to be a watcher
and got the talents
a little late
.”

“I find it remarkable.” My fingertips slid down her face and caressed her cheek. “A gift for a gift. A touch of the miraculous onto a miracle. Bastards such as I receive pain and saints such as you receive beauty.”

My eyes drifted
shut. I felt her warm breath tickle
my face before her lips met mine in a soft, short kiss. The
lingering sensation tingled on
my skin, even af
ter she moved away and
settled
her head
on my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around her, and for a moment, the chaos of the world fell silent
and into
tranquility again
.

Ghosts whispered in the dark
, drawing my eyes away from
battle.

A long, sterile corridor surrounded me, something patterned in mimicry of an industrial setting. I stood opposite another vampire, taken aback by both the suddenness of the encounter and the fact that my sword was drawn.
His hand also held a blade, one he swung
before I could fully register the threat, forcing me to stumble backward and dodge out of the way.
If I had a pulse, it would have been pounding in my chest. I could not recall how long I had been fighting, but
felt
it had been five minutes too long. A voice was calling to me from the expanse behind the other vampire, the urgency in its tone a grave understatement toward the danger we faced. Somehow, I knew I was running out of time.

“Monica.” I spoke her name just as my nemesis took another swing at me. I parried the maneuver and lifted my sword in t
ime to block his
counter-swing. When
I stole a quick glance down the hall again, I saw her
materialize as though
summoned by that
mere invocation.
She rounded a corner and disappeared as quickly as she had been conjured.
“No…” I murmured. My stomach twisted for no apparent reason. I simply knew I had to stop her.

My opponent furrowed his brow. He gripped his sword tighter, but I narrowed my eyes and lifted one hand, palm pointed toward him in a flash of vehemence. Telekinetic energy threw him back and against the wall. I leaped to close the distance and with one glorious arc
of my sword, severed his head
. Hi
s ash descended to the ground as
I sheathed my
katana
and ran for where I had last seen my watcher.

As I reached the
intersection
of the corridor,
though,
a disquieting chill afflicted me. I clutched onto a wall for support while the shiver worked its way out of my system, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I drew a deep breath inward to steady myself, but lingered in place as a voice whispered in the back of my mind. ‘
She is delectable, Flynn. A bit of a burden on your conscience, though, wouldn’t you agree?
’

I advanced forward two paces before being forced to pause again. ‘
You leave her
the fuck
alone or risk coming face to face with the angel of death himself
,
’

‘
We will have our battle, but later. When you recognize
I
am not your true enemy.
’ The sensation lifted
abruptly
. I straightened to a full stand once it passed, but the swiftness with which it de
parted only made my stomach sink
. I ran,
not knowing what I sought or where, but
compelled
to do something –
anything
– before it was too late.

Coming upon one door, I kicked it open,
but was rewarded with
nothing on the other side.
I dashed to the second, doing the same thing with similar results. As
I approached a third, however, crimson droplets marked a path to the other side and my shoulders slumped as I could not help but to stare at the ill harbinger before me. This time, I did not kick the door open, but lifted a shaky hand to twist the knob in a painfully slow manner.

The world faded around me. Time itself lost all meaning. I walked
across
the threshold, and stopped immediately in front of the pool of fresh blood.

***

Bolting upright, I felt the world spiral as I struggled to disengage myself from whatever I had just witnessed. The scene around me changed; instead of
a sterile
corridor, I was surrounded by the room in which I had fallen asleep, only this time far darker than it had been when I drifted
off
. My chest rose and fell as I swallowed air in gulps, my mind disoriented chaos with me too panicked to properly sort out what had just happened. The last fleeting images which had assailed me remained burned into my mind.

“Monica.” I spoke her name again, in softer tones with a voice still gravelly from sleep. My gaze shot around the room, failing to connect with anything longer than a few seconds, while my hands gripped the sheets beneath me. I turned my head, but failed to see her anywhere else in the room. “Monica?” I asked in a much louder tone of voice.

Still nothing. Twisting in place, I saw my glasses on a nightstan
d beside the bed and dove for them
, sprawled on the mattress when I thrust the spectacles over my sensitive eyes. The lights were out, with the curtains drawn, and I could feel nocturne’s melody humming softly all around me. Still, I remained in the same state of awareness I had been in when yet in the
throes of a visceral nightmare.

“That was no nightmare,” I murmured. Springing to my feet, I circled the room once
to satisfy
that my watcher was not hiding anywhere. I collected my sword and vaulted the bed to emerge out the bedroom door.

“Monica? Where are you?” I glanced around while not stopping. The television remained off
and
a lamp
had been switched on. T
here were no signs of a struggle,
but
there was no evidence of Monica
,
either. The chill
in the air left
me
to
wonder if evil itself had taken up residence in the floorboards and now bled through the plaster on the walls. She was not in the kitchen and the bathroom door was ajar. I nearly collapsed onto my knees.

She had been taken. Gods, I surely knew it.
M
y dreams had b
een evil premonitions
and Ian had marched through the apartment,
claiming
her as his spoils and
to
bait
me
. I ran my fingers through my hair and clenched my eyes shut. When I got ahold of that bastard, I would flay him into
–

A sound interrupted my thoughts. I spun around just in time to witness an impossible, amazing sight. The front door opened and Monica strolled into the apartment, holding the keys in her hand. She shut the door, but froze when she saw the expression on my face. “Peter?” she asked. “What’s the matter?”

In her hands, she held a bag which she swiftly set down onto the kitchen counter. The keys joined it a
s
the aroma of food filled the air, but Monica left it alone in favor of
meeting
me where I stood. I dropped the sword onto the ground. As her arms circled me, I wrapped mine tight around her and clutched her against my chest. “Are you alright?” I asked, wondering which of us was the one trembling. I suspect
ed
it might be me.

“I’m fine, Peter.”
She pulled away enough to
look me in the eyes. “W
hat
the hell
happened to you? You look like you just crawled out of one of hell’s windows.”

I bent at the waist and buried my face in her hair. “The oddest sensation came over me. I was certain something had happened to you when I woke and you were not there.”

S
he laughed. “
I slept like the dead until about two hours ago, but a person has to shower and eat, you know.” I lifted my head when she touched my cheek. A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth while compassion remained latent in her gaze. “You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. So I snuck out.”

I nodded, but clenched my eyes shut. “I understand. And you should not have to inform me of your every move.”

“Then what happened?”

“I had a dream. Or, I think it was a dream. I daresay the last time I experienced something so visceral was during my last conversation with Lydia.”

“You had a dream?” The way she asked the question forced my eyes open. Her fledgling smile had vanished. “The kind of dream where the sights and smells and sounds all feel like you’re right in the middle of some other place?”

“Yes, precisely that.”

“Well, fuck.” She sighed, looking away at first, then nodding and
tugging
me closer to the couch. One of my hands slid to the small of her back while the other arm fell to my side. We sat together and she turned to face me, causing me to mirror her posture so that we looked directly at each other. Silently,
we
regarded
each other
, her eyes looking past mine as though examining a corridor somewhere else. “You’ve never had this happen before,” she said.

I felt her hands clasp mine, but failed to break eye contact. “As I said, the only experiences I can compare it to are my encounters with Lydia.”

Monica nodded. She freed one hand, touching my temple with her fingertips. “You just received a vision. They’re standard fare for seers. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“The Fates don’t hand out visions willy-nilly. Then again, they don’t let the dead commune with people very regularly either.” Her lips pursed in thought, her gaze shifting to her fingers before returning to my eyes. “Would you let me see it?”

I furrowed my brow. “You can do such a thing?”

A wan smile curled the corners of her lips. “You can, too. I’m actually counting on you projecting it a little for me. Your mind’s too secure for me to brute force my way in
anymore
.”

My Adam’s apple bobbed as I swallowed hard, a host of thoughts dancing across my mind. The knowledge that the nature of the game had changed idled somewhere in the background, but I managed a slight nod
.
Monica reciprocated the nod and shut her eyes. I followed her cue and did the same.

“Take a few deep breaths and think about the last thing you saw before you woke.” Her instruction prompted immediate response. At first, the image of the blood pool threatened to jar me back into panic, but the more I focused on it, the more detached it became. For a few, fleeting moments, I forgot whose blood that was, in favor of opening the doors
of my mind
wide for Monica.

As I did, thoug
h, the movie started to play
backward. I jumped
and Monica’s free hand rose to settle on my shoulder, holding me in place. The soundtrack had been cut,
stripping the
taunting voice from the scene, but the sense of danger remained at full volume, unabl
e to be silenced. M
y consciousness flung wide open an
d when the events reached the
sword fight, they played forward once again. My reaction was the same as it had been the fi
rst time. T
he moment my feet touched the crimson lake
, my eyes flew open
.

Monica gasped, withdrawing her shaky hands as though she had been jolted. A dull ache formed at my forehead, and my watcher rubbed her
own
temples
while struggling
to catch her breath. I frowned, reaching for her on instinct. Monica did not resist
when I pulled her against my chest
.

“A vision?” I asked, feeling her tremble in my arms.

She failed to answer. Her fingers clutched onto my shirt, balling a fistful against her palm as the sound of her breathing
changed
from
quick and erratic, to slower,
pausing altogether at moments
as she worked on calming herself
. She remained tense
, though, even when the rhythm of her heart ceased its frantic pace
. I kissed her hair. “Please speak to me,” I said.

Her silence only made me more concerned. I attempted to pull her away – to look into her eyes and ensure I had not injured her in forcing her from my mind so abruptly – but when she refused to relinquish her grip, I read something different in the action. The side of her face pressed against my chest and I felt her hitch, hearing
barely-suppressed sob escape her lips
. I opened my mouth to continue speaking, but she finally managed, “That was… supposed to be me?”

My eyes clenched shut. “I have no notion of who that might have been. I feared it was you, though.” Without realizing I was doing it at first, I begun stroking her hair in slow, calming motions. “That is not going to happen.”

Admittedly, I spoke the declaration with more resolve than I had the authority to administer. Still, when she failed to relax, I repeated it again. “That
is not
going to happen, Monica.” Her body shook and the sound of crying reached my ears, but I refused to indulge it. There would be no resignation. Nobody – n
ot some dark magician,
not all the powers of heaven or hell – was going to pull the two of us apart. “No,” I said, kissing the top of her head, and then finally using my vampire strength to pull her from me. My hands framed her face. My forehead touched hers. I looked into her eyes, even when she clenched her lids shut. “I care little for visions and see no truth in this. Before you dare tell me some harbinger of the Fates has shown me your death, I am saying I do not care. You will not be leaving my side.”