Rebirth of the Seer

by Peter W. Dawes

  The confusion in his eyes turned to a look of resigned recognition. He scoffed. “Somebody like you would hardly understand my business with your brother.” As he drew a deep breath inward, he brushed the debris from his clothing and pulled a shard from his arm. “So, Mistress Sabrina has her feathers in a bunch?”

  “She takes any threat rather seriously, as I am certain you can imagine.”

  “She fills your head fill of paranoid nonsense more like it.” Demetrius tossed the bloody glass to the ground. He allowed himself to stare at it for a few lingering seconds. “Tell me, was it your brother who informed her of our meeting?”

  I huffed. “Hardly. At the same time, mortal-loving inferior, did you think Sabrina would accept your prying without question?”

  Something in his demeanor shifted, a more defensive posture following what appeared to be an obvious weight falling from his shoulders. His gaze lifted to engage mine again. “Call me what you want, Flynn. Your brother loves you, but even you are trying that long-lived patience of his. I haven’t made my feelings about you secret, or your immortal mother for that matter. Sabrina has no respect for our ways and you’re the ignorant neophyte she sends to do her bidding.”

  “Insulting my mistress will hardly get you anywhere, and belittling me only makes me want to toy with you, Demetrius. As it is, I have been moved nearly to retch at being forced to witness what I just saw.” I shook my head and sneered. “You, who take company with the humans and indulge their petty, Gothic games. Who fancies himself an elder, yet acts as though they are your equal. Tell me, is this endemic of all the vampires of your coven, and if so might I do them all the favor of ending their misery?”

  “You nearly have.” He narrowed his eyes, stepping back another pace. “Your coven is a contemptible band of sadists with no respect for the natural order. None of you deserve the loyalty your brother has given you.”

  “Spare me.” I advanced the step he took. “You pretend you know him when I have never seen him indulge the sort of nonsense you exhibit.”

  “You call respecting what you once were nonsense?”

  “What is there to respect about death and disease? About hypocrisy? Does scum like you find such traits admirable?”

  Demetrius laughed. “Ignorant neophyte, just like I said.” He shook his head derisively. “You’ve been blinded to the hypocrisy of your own kind while just as duplicitous as the rest of us.”

  I had suffered this two-faced immortal for long enough. My fangs descended, my irritation bubbling to the surface as I made a charge at him. The lapse in judgment cost me dearly, though. Demetrius leaped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the end of my blade, and rolled before coming to a stand again.

  We turned to face each other. I swung my sword, but he dodged the blow and kicked me in the chest as retaliation. Sparks of pain exploded from the point of impact. They were eclipsed only by the punch which collided with my jaw, sending the sunglasses protecting my sensitive eyes from my face. I hollered in offense when the first beams of moonlight burned my retinas, quickly covering my face with one hand. “Son of a fucking bitch,” I swore. “You shall die slowly for that.”

  His retreating footfalls clamored for the opposite end of the room. I quickly dashed into the shadows and opened my eyes only when the shroud of darkness granted me enough reprieve. Even then, it took rubbing my face and gritting my teeth past the lingering burning for me to steal a glance at him. He closed in on a back entrance, which inspired me to action. I had no time to waste. Pain or not, if I lost him to the rear door, I would lose him for good and I was not about to let my flawless record be blemished. Drawing a dagger, I threw it at his back with a deft flick of my wrist.

  The blade plunged deep into the fleeing figure’s shoulder. He yelped in pain and stopped only to steal a glance behind him and pull the knife out. I emerged from my hiding place, caution thrown to the wind with my bright blue eyes blazing fury. The ambient moonlight was shrouded intermittently by stacks of boxes; just enough for me to pull another knife and throw it directly for him. He slid onto the floor to avoid it, but as I took refuge again, I saw a man seated on the floor, staring at me in utter confusion.

  I had not been expecting the reaction. The shock of me getting the upper hand, perhaps; I was more than accustomed to that by then. His gaze read of more than mere surprise, though. A form of realization so profound that it overrode his sense of self-preservation overtook his entire countenance. I paused when I first registered it, which must have been enough to knock him from his stupor. He stood again, his silk shirt now patchy with drying blood, and sprinted for a wall of crates before I could claim another step.

  Furrowing my brow, I scanned the floor for my glasses. A large patch of moonlight stood between me and Demetrius and even peering in its general direction was igniting flames of wrath anew. He interrupted my examination when he spoke from his hiding place. “The Fates damn us all. What has Sabrina done?”

  I focused first on locating my glasses, plucking them from the ground once I spotted them and sighing with relief the moment I slid them onto my face. Adjusting my suit jacket, I now peered without handicap toward where my target hid. “If you think you are going to deter me by spewing madness, you do not know me nearly as well as you might think,” I said.

  The glint of the moonlight shone the direction to one of my discarded knives. Recalling that my adversary still bore its mate in his possession, I slithered carefully toward where it lay. “Is this her plan?” he asked, continuing as I plucked the blade from the ground. “Turn one of you into a vampire and rain down Armageddon on all of us?”

  “What the devil are you talking about?”

  Demetrius addressed himself with his answer. “I have to tell the others before it’s too late. Fucking Michael, he knew it all this time. No wonder he…” He trailed off and no sooner had the words escaped his lips than he shot from his sanctuary and made a fevered run for the back door. He spared just one glance at me before looking straight ahead and pouring all of his focus on his last point of refuge. I sneered and dashed across the room to intercept him.

  Slipping the knife back into its sheath, I freed both hands to wrap around my katana’s hilt as I pursued my target. He stepped up his pace, ignoring me even when I closed in on him. All he saw was freedom and he was hell-bent to have it.

  I pounced at the last moment, though, thrusting the blade forward and impaling Demetrius through the stomach. He froze as the blade cut through him and I used my hold to direct him forward until I pinned him against the wall. His hands hit the flat surface and he wailed in agony. I gritted my teeth and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “So much for getting away, Demetrius. It would appear you are stuck with me, would it not?”

  “Damn you, devil,” he managed. He shuddered, his mouth struggling for words, but it taking longer before the first coherent sentence could emerge. “Fucking assassin. Wolf in sheep’s clothing. That’s what the fuck is wrong with your eyes. You’ve been hiding the truth behind those damn sunglasses.”

  I fought the urge to twitch. “I have no idea what you are railing on about.”

  “You know we’d murder you in an instant, you bastard! Any elder who had the chance to lay eyes on you would know what you are just by looking into your eyes. They might be blue for now, but they won’t be forever.”

  Here it was again, the grand allusion to the great mystery, and I was only growing more aggravated by the moment. I twisted the sword, carving equal holes in both the plaster and Demetrius’s midsection. He screamed appropriately. “Listen to me, mortal lover,” I said when his cries died down. “I have no bloody idea what you mean, so spell it out for me. What is it that has you in such a snit?”

  He barked out a laugh. “I don’t believe it. Sabrina hasn’t told you?”

  “Told me what, goddamn it.” I fought the urge to add another twist. I needed him lucid if he was to answer me. “Answer me or your life is forfeit.”

  “My life’s forfeit either wa
y. I only hope your brother finally has enough sense to murder you after this.”

  “This is your last chance.”

  Demetrius scoffed, his hands clutching to the wall as his legs began to shake. “If you’re looking for answers, you’re asking the wrong person, assassin. It’s better you remain ignorant until someone else finds out about you.” He paused. “Or until one of your own kind finds you and rids the world of the demonic atrocity you are.”

  “I have had enough of this.” Swiftly, I pulled the sword from his body and swung it before he had the chance to turn around. His head fell to the ground just before his entire form became ash and disintegrated. I studied his remains; fangs still protruding, rage bubbling like lava beneath the surface. The katana slid into its sheath with his blood still on its blade. I would clean it later.

  “Burn in hell, bastard,” I said. “All of your cloak and dagger bullshit bores me. Go rail to the devil now, as he is the only one who shall hear your voice.” I crouched, tearing a swath of his shirt and shoving it into my pocket for delivery to the House of Matthew. As I emerged from the abandoned warehouse, I fought the temptation to attach both it and my customary black rose to a brick and throw it into Matthew’s coven house. As it was, I made certain to leave both somewhere conspicuous before retreating to our estate for the morning.

  It was the first time in a while someone had made mention of my hidden gifts and the mark of more to come. Robin’s reaction to the news of his death was ominously silent and the wave which crested over me in days to come brought me the reckoning I had desired for five years. Several nights later, I dreamed of Lydia and then received my commission to end the vampire Anthony. The sword came into my possession and my dance with Monica commenced, bringing me around to where I found myself now. It was a chain of dominoes, one hitting the other until I came full circle.

  And now, my brother had returned.

  With as much as I had discovered to this point, I knew more secrets lay in wait. I had made it this far with the woman I came to love, but now I had the aid of my most trusted ally.

  I only hoped Robin was more forthright with me than he had been when we lived under Sabrina’s roof.

  Hunting On Halloween

  The reasons why I enjoy this time of year could be counted on both hands, with sentiments both inspiring and bittersweet behind each tale. I have lived as both prince and pauper through a litany of autumns, with an eternity of them waiting to add another pen stroke to an already full existence. It is that eternal promise which brings forth my darker desires as September turns into October, though. That is when demons such as I come out to play.

  Seducing prey becomes far too easy on All Hallows Eve. For one night, mortals imbibe their more sinful pleasures, becoming whatever they wish to become and doing those things they would only confess toward doing in secret every other day of the year. Costumes adorn the masses, hiding their identities while revealing their wildest fantasies at the same time. I have watched both the lies and the truth painted before me in a confession no priest would ever absolve.

  While I could join in the festivities, masking myself like a charlatan, there is something to be said for being one’s self while the rest of the world is busy being somebody else.

  Especially when one is a vampire.

  For one night, my smiles become wider, my words of seduction more pointed without fear of it scaring away my target. These days, I do not kill in such a wanton manner, but during my days as Sabrina’s assassin, the world was an oyster and I feasted until my heart was content. At times, I could even get my older, more regal brother to join in the fun. Halloween of 1986 was one such occasion.

  It should be noted that Robin was no saint and would never purport to be as such. At the time, however, the vampire elder who served as my mentor realized what kind of creature I became under his tutelage. I loved sadism; lived for the kill so much that I became a monster in a black suit rather than a hunter of the night. As much as Robin blamed himself for the demon I was, he still had his base instincts to contend against.

  I passed him in the vestibule on my way out the door.

  The grand entryway, boasting gilded banisters and plush carpeting, was the one place in the coven you would be likely to brush past me if you saw me at all. It was its own central meeting place beyond the common area where my brethren would lounge about in sloth for the better part of the night. I never had use for such behavior. As such, when I alighted from the stairs that evening and strolled past my immortal brethren, I did not so much as cast a glance in their direction.

  It was not until Robin spoke that I paused.

  “Brother?” he said, his voice so familiar I would have recognized it in my sleep. The sound of footsteps accompanied his words. “Please, wait for me.”

  Stopping halfway between the stairs and the front door, I turned to regard my brother as he jogged to catch up. His hair tied back as always, he wore a three piece suit and bore same regal air he did every night. A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth as I noted the rigid formality latent even in his stride. I wondered if all elder vampires were as stodgy as he was. “Yes, Robin?” I asked, grateful that the dark sunglasses I wore to protect my sensitive vision also blocked the way I rolled my eyes.

  Robin stopped a few feet shy of me and sighed. “For a moment, I suspected you meant to ignore me.” As he raised an eyebrow, he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Where are you headed?”

  “To see to the night.” My smirk turned dark. “Doing what it is we vampires do.”

  “Doing what it is you do, you mean.” Robin huffed, glancing away momentarily. “I swear you feed upon the world as though it is all feast and no famine.”

  “The mortal populace continues procreating. It is hardly my fault. My word, Robin.” I laughed. “Are you touchy this evening?”

  He sighed. “My apologies, brother,” he said, looking back at me. “I’ve had a poor evening and the night has just begun.”

  “You and Sabrina, yet again?”

  “Need you ask?”

  “No.” My smile faded. “A layer of ice forms on the floor whenever you happen to come within fifty feet of each other. It is a wonder you are her second.”

  “There are moments I marvel at the same thing, dear brother.” Robin’s eyes shifted downward, gaze fixed upon the tiled floor.

  The fine linen of my jacket formed creases at the elbow as I folded my arms across my chest. One hand rested upon my upper arm, my fingers tapping out a silent rhythm. “What in God’s name has become of you?” I asked.

  Robin’s eyes rose to meet mine. “What are you talking about?”

  “You.” I shook my head. “You used to be a hunter on par with no other, from what the others have told me. I still recall being that neophyte immortal being scolded by you on everything. My manners, my tactics, my fucking language.”

  He scowled, as I knew he would. “I hate when you do that.”

  “Yes, yes, when I curse, or smoke, or inhale air in a manner not becoming of an immortal.” I paused. “And you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Precisely. What about you? Let us talk about acting in a manner unbecoming of an immortal.” Lowering my arms, I clasped my hands behind my back, commencing to pace around my brother. “Here you are sulking while the world continues turning around you. Do you recall what tonight is?”

  “Yes,” he said in an exasperated huff. “It’s Halloween. Samhain. The mortal world’s excuse for dressing up and whoring themselves to the darkness as though the darkness would have them.”

  “You are looking at this in altogether the wrong manner, Robin.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning a bit closer, becoming the serpent seducing Eve. “Tonight is not merely Halloween, it is opportunity.”

  He furrowed his brow, a skeptical look forming on his face. “What sort of opportunity?”

  “Listen to you. Use your imagination, dear brother. Think of the mortal world, begging for its monsters to visit them; its
witches and werewolves and vampires. Think of two handsome, pale gentlemen walking into a nightclub.” I paused, relishing the thought as though imbibing the sweetest of wines. “Flashing smiles in the same manner that rich men flaunt their wealth, watching the mortals fall into their laps for a dance with the vampire. Their minds so at ease; so placated with the warm notion that what stands before them is just another human playing a game in their embellished masquerade. Think of the surprise in their eyes when they discover the monsters are real.”

  Robin did not respond right away, but I sensed him tense a bit, as though pretending his vampire instincts did not taste the notion on the tip of his tongue as well. “I refuse to play your games, Flynn,” he finally said.

  “Fine.” I lifted my hand from his shoulder and shrugged. “Then purchase a drink and watch. Either way, you need to remove yourself from this coven before you disgust me. You, who were my teacher.” I tsked. “What would the elder vampires say if they caught sight of you wasting such a night in favor of sipping brandy and brooding in the dark?”

  Robin raised an eyebrow at me. “You truly are the devil.”

  “In the flesh. Now, come...” I motioned forward. “Do not make me have to drag you. That would be all the more embarrassing of a sight and Sabrina would mock you for nights to come.”

  My older brother bristled and I laughed, waiting until he followed along before closing the distance to the exit and exchanging brusque ‘good evenings’ with the doorman as he held the door open. Robin strolled behind me until we descended the front stairs and strolled out onto the streets of Philadelphia.

  The night bore temptation in the air, palpable enough to cause my fangs to start to ache. Warmer than usual for the season, a breeze yet hinted toward the chill of winter on the horizon. I lit a cigarette and glanced at Robin, noticing him step away from me a few paces lest he be forced to inhale my addiction the next time he drew a breath. I smirked. “You know, dear brother,” I said, “These clubs are notorious for being filled with smoke.”