We wound our way down the stairs and to a lighter-colored living area. The dark wood remained a consistent theme, and the rugs which lay beneath a set of plush couches still bore the maroon and green colors the upstairs had boasted. I stole a moment to admire my surroundings. A fireplace poured heat into the immediate area and the glow of the flames cast shadows across walls bearing portraits and paintings. My sight honed on one portrait in particular – an image of my two lost loves. My eyes met a younger Monica’s especially and I frowned.
Movement from the corner of my eye drew my focus away. A woman stood from a high back chair and turned to face me. A quick movie played in my mind, featuring the woman who first hurtled condemnation down on me, then scurried off when I took hold of her and moved her out of harm’s way. She folded her hands in front of her waist, her gaze more apprehensive than Malcolm’s had been.
I perked an eyebrow as she drew a deep breath inward. “I didn’t know you were awake,” she said.
I glanced at Malcolm, who walked around to one of the couches, and peered back at Kaylee. “Malcolm greeted me similarly, though not quite as nervously.” Lifting a hand, I shook my head. “I intend you no ill. I never have, truth be told.”
“I know.” She issued the same quick flick of her eyes to Malcolm as I had and shifted in place. “I’m sorry. I honestly haven’t known when we’d be able to talk to you, Mr. Dawes.”
“Peter, please.”
“I’ll pour us all a drink,” Malcolm said, bypassing his seat and walking for a liquor cabinet on the other side of the room.
I watched him depart, then motioned for one of the other chairs and pointed uncertainly. Kaylee nodded. “Yes, please, Peter. Sit.” She settled back in her chair and crossed her legs. I sat as well and stared at her across the expanse, waiting. She gazed downward for a few moments before finally continuing. “You aren’t wearing your sunglasses anymore,” she said.
I nodded, managing a small grin. “It would seem the Fates have granted me several boons as recompense.” The grin faded slowly. “What about my waking had you uneasy?”
“You had us a little nervous on several fronts,” Malcolm interjected, walking over to me with a glass filled two fingers full with an amber-colored liquid. Lifting it to my nose, I took a generous sniff of the contents. Scotch. He walked to Kaylee and handed her a similar glass. “For one, you’ve been out for two weeks now without budging. We wondered if we broke you.”
“Two weeks?” I asked, not bothering to mask the surprise in my voice.
“Twelve days to be more precise.” He walked back for the liquor cabinet and pulled out another glass. “And we’ve been locked in discussions with the rest of the Council since we dragged your body here. We’ve had our best spellcasters and physicians try to put you back together again. Were starting to believe we might’ve lost any chance at redeeming ourselves when you kept sleeping.”
I hid the sinking of my stomach at having my worst fears confirmed. Twelve days was far too long for any hope. ‘A battle for another time, ’ I told myself. My gaze shifted back to Kaylee. “I believe you might also be a trifle unnerved after watching me with the vampires,” I said.
Kaylee refused to make eye contact. “What do you mean?” Malcolm asked.
“You saw what I was capable of and, considering you know my past and heard Ian’s offer, harbor some fear of retaining my loyalties, if you are smart.”
“I won’t deny that.” Malcolm walked over to us and sat on the couch, drink in hand. He lifted the glass to his lips, inspiring me to do the same, and swallowed down a sizable amount. “I hope you don’t blame us for feeling that way. We hoped you didn’t still have a grudge against us for keeping you detained as long as we did.”
“Two weeks for two weeks, Malcolm.” I shook my head and lowered my glass again. “One life for one life. What is to become of all of us if we are counting debts when my watcher left me with one rather sage pearl before she was taken?”
“What pearl was that?”
“That there are much larger things at work besides us.”
He sighed and looked away while swirling his Scotch idly. “She used to tell us that so many times when we were at odds with her. I’m starting to think we were the foolish ones after all.”
“You were if you never heeded her advice.”
“Touché.” When our eyes met again, he shook his head. “I’m going to be honest with you, Peter. We’re pretty lost right now. Ever since that night, we’ve been trying to sort out everything that happened and everything you’ve told us. So far, we have no idea what to make of any of it. The archives have been buzzing and the best minds of the Supernatural Order have been trying to sort out why the Fates called a vampire-seer. As of right now, your guess is as good as ours.”
I nodded. “What of Ian’s cohorts?”
“You’ll have to tell us what else you know, if anything. Whatever he was trying to accomplish, aside from the wholesale massacre of the Seattle headquarters, has to be something he’s kept close to his chest for a while. And it’s been a long time since we and the vampires have shared the same resources.”
Silently, we gazed at each other. I drew a deep breath inward and exhaled it slowly, my mind circling around what I could reconstruct from a mind still wading into coherence. “The larger part of his threat had been centered on the Council, and since he has met his end I doubt there shall be another attempt. Besides that, I only know he hurtled taunts which placed me at the epicenter of some plot. They seemed bent upon world domination.”
Malcolm huffed. “Those threats are a dime a dozen.”
“Perhaps, but his bore the hint of validity when he spoke it. I also have a hard time believing all of his eggs were in the same basket. His proposition to me was that I stand back, not assist the slaughter.”
“And he’d set you free?”
“And he’d return my watcher.”
Malcolm frowned reflexively. I nodded, swallowing back a lump which had formed in my throat. “She might indeed be lost to us now.”
Kaylee cupped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes turned glassy before tears began streaming down her cheeks. I stared, at a loss, and attempting not to be taken under by the same grief. Fortunately, Malcolm only sighed, his eyes settling on his wife briefly before returning to me. “I take it there isn’t much chance she’s being held hostage somewhere?” he asked, his voice soft.
I sighed. “No way for me to determine. Ian’s final words were a threat that she would perish if I did anything to interfere.”
“Which means she’s being held by somebody else,” Kaylee managed.
“Precisely,” I said. My attention shifted to her. “Ian taunted that he might merely be a cog in the machine. If I were you, I would continue having your researchers determine how the vampires could possibly exact some sort of retribution against humanity.”
Malcolm nodded. “That’s a very broad brush, but we’ll give it a go.”
Tempted though I was to nod in return, something about the way Kaylee reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes caused me to pause for a moment and take stock. So much had happened in the weeks since Monica faced the Philadelphia council, so many steps taken along a very unlikely path which had brought me to the living room of my former adversaries. A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth. “You truly wished me dead when you learned what she did to my abilities.”
My eyes had drifted away. I allowed them to focus on Malcolm and Kaylee again, seeing them exchange an uneasy glance before Kaylee wiped the last of her tears away. With a sniffle, she looked toward Malcolm while still addressing me. “We didn’t know what to expect at first, given your record.”
“To be honest, I’m not even sure why you’ve changed or what that means,” Malcolm added.
“I am my own being I suppose.” I perked an eyebrow. “But no longer a villain?”
Malcolm shook his head. “No, you’re not. We haven’t convened to formally exonerate you…”
�
��We were waiting for you to wake,” Kaylee interjected.
“… But you’re a full-fledged member of the Order now.”
I could not stop the chuckle of disbelief from bubbling up from my throat. The sound it produced was sardonic. “Imagine that. The angels of heaven themselves must have descended to make this all possible.”
“Peter…” Malcolm frowned and placed his mostly-empty glass down on the coffee table in front of him. “I don’t know what it’ll take to prove our sincerity.”
“Do you wish to know what you could do to make recompense for your actions?” I asked, polishing off the contents of my drink and rising to a stand.
He glanced at Kaylee. She shrugged, which brought his attention back to me. “What do you want?”
Slowly, I bent to place my glass down on the same table where Malcolm’s sat. As my eyes lifted, a serious expression shrouded my countenance. “Help me figure out what the bastards who took Monica have planned. I have a date to avenge my lover’s death.”
They blinked in response, seemingly struck mute. I allowed the gaze to linger. As I turned to walk toward the stairs, Malcolm stood and I studied the Council elder until he finally spoke. “The Fates will show you the way, Peter.”
I furrowed my brow. “I beg your pardon?”
“They give you visions and dreams?” he asked. When I nodded, a half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “We’ll do all the research we can for you, but you might have to lie back for a while and wait for some word from above.”
The response was hardly what I would have liked, but I recognized truth in it just the same. “So be it,” I said and with that, I made my exit, headed for my temporary domicile to spend the rest of the night in sober contemplation. The next evening, I allowed myself to be shown around the Order facilities and by the end of that night, I had my sleeves rolled up and an impromptu sparring match under way with another master seer. The Fates seemed bent to try my patience, but I could at least fill the time in-between with something more than idle brooding.
As the rest of the week wore on, I became more familiar with my new home. I finally engaged my hosts in much friendlier discourses and stood before the High Council to receive my formal exoneration. The sorcerers of the Order asked to pull me aside at various times and though none of them – not even the scholars – could determine what boon had given me back my reflection, they all agreed it was a harbinger of something larger at work. My cravings for blood had diminished, and my eyes beheld the world from a much different perspective, one which rang familiar and alien simultaneously. The assassin who once was Flynn had truly become the seer named Peter.
Still, I missed Monica more and more with each passing day. I took to speaking to her as I woke and before I retired in the morning. I relayed the things I had been taught and smiled in the same bittersweet manner as I pictured her nestled close to me. Several additional days elapsed, and by the time I found myself seated outside the Davies estate, regarding the burgeoning light of the dawn, the same electric current I had felt weeks ago had become a constant hum in the backdrop. I felt ready for the next task at hand, though I had no idea yet what that might entail.
Indulging one final glance heavenward, I sighed and turned for the house. For all the other boons provided me, the sun yet remained a mortal foe. The siren call of sleep could not be ignored. Had I stared at the last remaining stars in the sky, however, I might have seen one wink back at me, a messenger with news I dared not hope to receive.
She would visit me in my dreams. And in her hands she would carry the next part of my mission.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The vision drifted to me like a whisper on the wind.
A picture came into focus, pieces upon a time. I stood in a large, basement-like area with walls seemingly chiseled from earth by the hands of those who had long-since perished. Bars lined both sides of a corridor, and the absence of light suggested an underground prison, although a quick glance at the spaces between the cells revealed oil lamps which had not been lit. Compelled to investigate, I walked forward while pausing to examine each unit I passed. The first few were unoccupied, but curiosity had gotten the better of me.
Grit from the floor slid beneath my shoes as I advanced from one cell to another. While I heard no signs of life at first, I became aware of a faint pulse beating on the far end of the hallway and something in the vicinity which carried enough of a signature that a shiver afflicted me. I hesitated when I spied a vampire in the confines of one unit and waited for him to notice me somehow. When he failed to grant so much as a grunt of recognition, I continued toward the pulse.
The closer I came, the more a different sensation crept up on me. It bore the suggestion of someone familiar, something which gripped me by the heart as it bore with it a signature I would know above any other. I blinked, not entirely certain that what I perceived could even be possible, or whether I dared believe it was. My desires must have gotten the better of me, becoming personified in a visceral fantasy. The more the thought circled around my mind, the more I questioned it until I finally stopped halfway down the corridor. If this was a fantasy, then indulging it would only be painful in the end.
She chose that moment to speak.
“Sometimes, when I’m sitting here, I feel like you’re somewhere else talking to me,” she said, punctuating her words with a sigh. My heart broke at the heaviness which accompanied her tone of voice. While every self-preserving impulse told me to turn away, my ears were turning deaf to the notion. “I wish there was some way to reach you, but I don’t even know if you’re alive or dead. For all I know, I could be deluding myself into thinking you’re still out there.” Her next words were spoken with profound sorrow. “Goddamn it, Peter, please answer me. I miss you so badly.”
Tears formed in my eyes at both the beauty and cruelty of the experience. “Monica,” I said, surrendering to whatever had called me here. Without pausing for another beat, I ran for the end of the hall, hands balled into fists and arms bent as I poured every bit of vampire speed into the effort. I skidded to a stop when I finally saw a figure seated on a bench. Both of my hands wrapped around the bars of her prison. “Monica, I am here, beloved,” I said, dumbfounded at what I saw before me.
My watcher’s head snapped up, her arms lowering from the embrace she held around her knees. At first, she furrowed her brow, her face reading of the same question I asked myself – Could it be true? When I freed one hand to reach through the gap, though, a smile broke out on her face. Monica sprang to her feet and regarded me through glassy eyes. “Peter?”
“I swear it.”
She laughed. Racing for me, she held out a hand which clasped mine when she came within reaching distance. Her skin was warm and as I pulled her closer, the fingers of her other hand touched my face, a look of wonder being exchanged from one to the other. The crease in her brow became all the more pronounced. “How in the hell are you here?”
I chuckled in response. “If I knew that, I daresay I might have the rest of this riddle plaguing me figured out.” With a sigh, I allowed my grin to subside, but not disappear altogether. “It has been a daunting few weeks, but I am alive.”
Monica nodded, rocking to the tips of her toes as I bent at the waist. Our lips met as much as possible through the spaces, enough of an engagement that I felt a stir race through my body. The soft kiss lingered and ended with a jolt of desire passing through the air. I swallowed hard, my eyes still closed. “I thought I would never taste your lips again.”
“At the risk of fluffing your ego, I couldn’t help thinking about yours, too.”
Our lids lifted in unison. My arms slid around her, hand settling on the back of her head. I saw her cheek press against the bars in front of her and leaned into the embrace. “Ian told me he would kill you and enough of his underlings escaped that I figured it a certainty. Either you were born fortunate, or this is a fantasy I have invented in order to see you again. I suspect the latter might be the case.”
She huffed sardonically. “We’re a paradox wrapped in a riddle. I think this is my fantasy, sunshine.”
“And how are you so certain of that?”
“You’re a whole lot more… you.”
I drifted away enough to regard her. She looked up at me and raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?” I asked.
A soft smile teased at the corner of her mouth. “No sunglasses. A little rosier of a complexion. Still have the fangs, though, I can tell so my imagination isn’t all that expansive.”
I could not help but to laugh. “Ah, you fancy me human.”
“I fancy you a Dr. Peter Dawes.” Her grin turned devious. “Though I’ve never been that off-put by a certain Mr. Flynn either.”
Shaking my head, I allowed her closer to me again, running my fingers through her hair in soft stokes. “Well, I know I am certainly not where you are, because I fell asleep in Seattle, Washington.”
“In… Seattle?”
“Yes, at your parents’ estate. I was admitted into to the family belatedly, after saving your parents’ lives.”
“Dinner must not have agreed with me to have dreamed that one up.”
I snickered, but perked an eyebrow as I considered the matter further. “You know, it is rather curious, beloved. I do not know that I have enough of an imagination to fabricate your witticisms.”
“They are very carefully chosen. I have a whole vault of snark to quality control, you know.”
“Bloody woman.” As she peered up at me again, I found myself studying her with a sense of wonder. My fingers lifted from the back of her head and toyed at the blonde streak in her hair. “I do not believe either of us to be deluding ourselves. Is it possible for two people to meet somewhere in their dreams?”
Monica laughed, a sound exclaiming both incredulousness and skepticism. “I’ll believe it if you show up again and if a circus of wild elephants doesn’t appear out of nowhere.” She sighed, though, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “I don’t know? Hell, we’ve had a unique tie from the word go. I think I might have bonded with you a little when I drew out your powers.”
Rebirth of the Seer Page 33