Night Shadows (Children of Nostradamus Book 2)

by Jeremy Flagg

  “I am not your first telepath.”

  “You won’t be my last,” the man said.

  “My name is Jacob Griffin.”

  “You’re a mentalist, and I assume the company you keep are also mentalists. I’m assuming you work for the Society.”

  Jacob couldn’t hide the expression on his face.

  The man smiled. “You didn’t think anybody outside your organization was aware? Or is it just that it took somebody with the ability to see the big picture to put the pieces together?”

  “And that somebody is you?”

  He shrugged.

  “Dav5d,” Jacob muttered.

  “Eventually you’ll wear me down and be able to read my thoughts. That’s if…” the man’s chest puffed out “…you can keep up.”

  “I want to know about your friends.”

  Dav5d shook his head. “You’ll have to pry that out of me.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  With the first step forward, Jacob’s body exploded, leaving behind a smoky figure twice the size of his previous form. It wasn’t a voice in the back of his head, it wasn’t that darkness touching his mind, it was him now. The power coursed through his veins and he understood just how strong he had become. With each step forward the anger fueling his transformation grew. Reaching for the man, he was determined to tear down the Child’s defenses.

  A single punch threw Jacob backward, knocking his body from the smoky armor.

  “How the fuck—”

  “I’ve been sleeping with a telepath for as long as you’ve been able to read thoughts.”

  In the operating room, Jacob let his abilities wrap about Dikeledi and Lily, granting them entrance into the man’s mind. They appeared on the steps of the church before the telepath understood what happened. He had once acted as the bridge between two people, but strained to maintain the connection. Now, his abilities called to them like it was second nature.

  Jacob’s body levitated upward until he was standing on his feet again. It was the first time he found an opponent to test out these newfound abilities. He wondered what limitations the man had, or if there were any at all.

  Kill him.

  Jacob’s body vanished and reappeared behind Dav5d. He clutched the side of the black man’s skull, letting tendrils of smoke pour out of his hands and wrap about his neck. Dav5d spun about, ducked out of the hold, and with a single palm forward slammed into Jacob’s sternum. Unlike before, Jacob hardly budged.

  “Fool me once,” he said, waving his pointer finger.

  Dav5’d body was thrown, hurled against the steps. Jacob watched as Lily motioned subtly with her fingers. She raised her hands, lifting Dav5d into the air until they were face to face. She inspected him, curious about what made him so special. “You don’t seem so dangerous.”

  “That’s the funny thing about mentalists. Your powers are limited by your mind.” He dropped down to a crouch. With a swift fluid motion, his fist landed on the underside of her jaw. “My mind doesn’t have any limitations.”

  “Like a mentalist,” Dikeledi said. “So complex. Your mentor taught you well.”

  Jacob didn’t try to hide the anger. The man was stating he was better than them. He claimed he was capable of outmatching three mentalists. Jacob didn’t attempt to strike the man’s avatar with his own. The mentalist was familiar with this battlefield, but he wondered how often the man’s lover had tried to maneuver his thoughts. He didn’t need the visuals of this scene to infiltrate the man’s psyche.

  Dav5d’s avatar froze.

  The smoke poured off Jacob until a shadowy form stood next to him. The figure stomped toward Dav5d and latched its arms onto him. In a rush of sound, Jacob heard the million thoughts being processed by Dav5d at once. He attempted to understand what was happening, calculating the powers being exerted on him.

  Jacob watched as the shadow grappled with the Child. For a moment fear entered his mind. He understood there was no difference between him and the shadow consuming his thoughts. At first he believed the relationship between them was symbiotic, but as he witnessed memories of the green woman fighting a person, him, his sense of self vanished into the darkness.

  “Warden,” Dav5d whispered.

  Jacob had suspected it before. But as he listened to a memory of the Child’s lover describing a dream where a shadowy figure tried to consume her essence, he became certain it was the Warden. As the man struggled, Jacob smiled, the power of the dead mentalist wrapping around him.

  “Yes,” Jacob hissed. He drew back his hand and plunged it into Dav5d’s chest. The man’s thoughts slowed as the shadows strangled him. Jacob clenched his jaw, forcing his will onto the man, determined to break him.

  Dav5d’s eyes were glassy again. Jacob sensed him trying to lock down parts of his mind, to hide somewhere inside his psyche. With every barrier Jacob’s powers encountered, he blew apart the doors, invading every ounce of the man’s mind. Jacob screamed out at the awesomeness of his abilities. His former self would never have been able to keep up with the Child, now it hardly seemed fair.

  “Vanessa,” Dav5d whispered as his eyes filled with black smoke.

  Jacob staggered back from the man. He knew the sensation of consuming a person; the Barren were similar, dolls ready for his command. He didn’t think he’d be able to do it to a person without the numerous synthetic cocktails they fed the Barren volunteers. The victory was only made sweeter knowing he had broken a Child of Nostradamus, one of last bastions against his abilities.

  “Jacob?” asked Lily.

  He turned to see the two women on the steps leading to the church. He sensed their fear as they watched the smoky outline about his body appear more akin to a monster than his normal self.

  “Is that you?” she asked.

  “And so much more.”

  Chapter 18

  2033

  A stillness in the warehouse made it even creepier than it appeared. He felt the cold cement against his cheek as he stared off into the distance. It took him a moment to realize he was in his warehouse. As Conthan grasped at memories, he fought to keep exhaustion from consuming him.

  It had been a year since he sat on the scavenged car backseat while drinking around a fire. He remembered the rest of his collective cheering on his opening show. It had been the night before his world changed and he went from up and coming artist to Child of Nostradamus. As the pounding in his head moved in time with his pulse, he wondered if there was any vodka left.

  “Dwayne,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from yelling in the subway. The man lay on the ground, his body unmoving. Conthan let his muscles scream at him as he pushed himself up to his knees. The world spun and his stomach threatened to hurl its contents.

  He crawled the several feet to Dwayne. He moved his ear close to the man’s nose, listening to the faintest of breaths. He touched Dwayne’s neck like they did in the movies and the pulse was almost nonexistent. Conthan touched his cheek, giving it a light tap, seeing if he could wake him.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

  “We can’t do anything,” Vanessa said, her green form sprawled out on the ground.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s in there, I can still hear him. But his body—”

  Vanessa stood, her feet staggering underneath her. She almost appeared drunk, unable to hold herself straight. She rubbed her eyes and blinked several times. Conthan couldn’t figure out what she was looking for as she spun about, eyeing the shadows.

  “What are you doing?”

  Vanessa lunged, grabbing at the air. She growled as her hands passed harmlessly through the empty space. She spun about and tried again, missing her invisible enemy. Conthan thought she lost her mind. With her third lunge, his eyes widened as it seemed a woman appeared and vanished quicker than he could make out.

  “Who’s there?” he asked.

  “There’s another Child in here, Conthan. I can sense them, but they’re sk
illed at hiding their thoughts.”

  “Conthan?”

  She stepped out of nothingness. The signature shaved side of her head and long neon pink locks resting on her shoulder gave away her identity. He thought back to the church and was certain he had seen her. The tattoos snaking their way up her neck and onto the side of her head were one of a kind. Before he could speak, Vanessa tackled her to the ground.

  “Who are you?”

  He tried to stand but his legs gave out under him. “Vanessa, no!”

  The gargoyle paused, turning back to her friend. She held the woman to the ground with one hand firmly planted on her chest. “Who is she?”

  “Gretchen,” he said, his voice giving away his disbelief.

  “Long time no see. Now get off me, you beast,” she said shoving Vanessa backward.

  “It was you I saw at the church.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Sorry about that, couldn’t let the synthetics catch me.”

  “Why were you there?”

  Gretchen vanished from sight. It felt like an eternity as Vanessa reared backward, uncertain with what was happening. A few seconds later Gretchen appeared again, dusting off her ripped jeans.

  “Funny fucking story.” She smiled. “The people there kind of worship me.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause I’m a Child.”

  ***

  Jasmine shielded Skits and Alyssa with her body as her back skid along the ground. Her shoulder blades dug into the flooring, threatening to break through the surface as she came to a stop. She let go of her passengers and they were fast to their feet.

  Alyssa stayed low to the ground, inspecting her surroundings to see if they were followed. Jasmine had no doubt the girl’s powers had faded. Her stance was awkward, and it appeared as if she mimicked movies more than showing the skill of a martial arts master. Skits was in a similar situation, her hands barely able to glow. Jasmine wondered if the plasma burned the same temperature or if it grew cooler as the girl tired.

  “Where are we?” She groaned as she worked her way to her feet.

  “I’ve been here before,” Alyssa said.

  Jasmine’s skin loosened and her muscles relaxed as her powers slipped away. She felt as if she had been holding her breath and as she let go of her tough exterior, she breathed easier. She hoped they were alone and that she wouldn’t need her abilities.

  The room wasn’t huge, perhaps a hundred people could fill the space. It was empty, the floor littered with napkins and plates. Smashed glass seemed to be scattered here and there. The walls were painted a solid white and evenly spaced frames hung along the wall. It dawned on her she was standing amongst walls of art.

  “A gallery?”

  The layer of dust on the floor and the mess left by patrons told her it hadn’t been used in quite some time. She watched as Alyssa’s body eased to a standing position. The young girl inspected the burn mark along the wall. Her attention was captured by one of the poster-sized frames.

  Skits joined her and finally Jasmine walked over to see what drew them. She gasped out loud as she saw the figure in the painting. A young girl sat for the artist, wearing a man’s button down shirt, her shoulder exposed for the viewer. Where the supple skin of her breast should have been, a rock-like formation broke through the skin, obscuring her femininity.

  “It’s Sarah,” Jasmine whispered.

  The woman’s face was covered in similar bone growths. The girl appeared bashful, almost ready to blush at the artist, but she held her cheeks in check. However, from the majority of her skin, bones emerged, consuming her flesh, making her look more like a golem than a pretty young girl.

  “We’re at the gallery where Conthan discovered his abilities,” Alyssa said.

  “That’s a creepy coincidence,” Skits said.

  “I’m not sure I believe in coincidences anymore,” Jasmine said as she moved to the next painting.

  “Vanessa sent Dwayne and me to keep any eye on him. The party was great, people were admiring his work. I mean, they said he had real talent, and then she got up and gave a speech about him. That’s when his life changed.”

  “He’s never talked about the specifics,” Skits commented.

  “I don’t know, he went out the back door and we provided cover for him. The Corps showed up. They swamped the place and we stopped them.”

  “He is quite talented,” Jasmine said as she inspected a charcoal drawing. She had never been big into the arts. She hardly listened to music, and she couldn’t recall the last movie she watched, but she saw the beauty in his work. Underneath the transformation of his friend, there was a beautiful young woman and she understood the world stopped seeing that as the bones pushed to the surface. Whatever she was before, now she served as a freak show for the public.

  To everybody but Conthan, she thought.

  Jasmine admired how every push of the black lines seemed to take a gentle approach in showing her calcified exterior. She had to wonder if he felt this way before her transformation or if he idealized the beauty he thought existed in all people. He captured a memory of somebody lost to him.

  She thought of the young girl from Troy.

  Tears streamed down the side of her face. She could handle machines sent to exterminate her or even fighting to a point where she might die. She had no problem with the physical. But as the emotions rolled over her, she reminded herself that beneath the tough exterior, she was human. She wiped the tears off her face and caught the girls staring at her.

  “Why here?” Skits asked, avoiding an awkward bonding conversation.

  “Maybe it was what he was thinking about when he made a portal?” said Alyssa.

  “I’m sure there’s a reason we’re here,” Jasmine said. “I don’t buy that it’s a coincidence.”

  “What about the others?”

  Jasmine couldn’t ignore the worry on Skits face. “Let’s get ourselves in shape to travel, then we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  “I could sleep for days,” Skits said as she slid down the wall.

  “You have two hours, soldier,” Jasmine said. “Then we find the others.”

  “Then what?” asked Alyssa.

  “We’re going to find who is hunting us down and kill them.”

  “Sold,” Alyssa said, sliding down the wall next to Skits.

  Jasmine gritted her teeth. She was ready to begin killing anybody who got in her way. It wasn’t enough to think about revenge. Somebody wanted to eradicate their existence, and the only way she knew to fight back was to kill everybody involved.

  ***

  Conthan checked on Dwayne, covering his half-naked body with a flannel blanket. His prone form hadn’t moved since the attack earlier. He breathed deeply, little snores slipping in here and there. His body barely fit on the backseat torn from an old car. Conthan rested his hand on the man’s chest, taking comfort in the warmth of Dwayne’s skin while it rose and fell in time with his breathing. Conthan wished he could make him more comfortable, but for the moment, this was the best they had to offer.

  Vanessa, on the other hand, sat on the roof of the warehouse. He thought about joining her, but she needed to work out her demons in solitude. He didn’t have to ask; he knew she was torn up over what happened with Dwayne and losing Dav5d.

  He wondered if he could find the man. In a few seconds he could teleport in, vanish, and be back before anybody knew he was gone. He wished he had the ability to locate people. Perhaps Vanessa could do it and guide him. For now, he’d have to wait until she made peace with what she had done.

  “He looks weird without eyebrows.”

  “Says the girl with enough piercings to set off a metal detector.”

  Gretchen had procured a black shawl, wrapping it tightly around herself. The cold of the water started to set in. He stood up and inspected Dwayne’s face again. “Not weird,” he said, “more like unique.”

  “Did you just say that out loud?”

  “You and Skits are going t
o get along too well.”

  “The gymnast?”

  “The plasma maker.”

  “Hi,” she said, “you open black holes. He shoots lightning. The gargoyle on the roof can fly and read minds. And you have a girl who makes fire? My name is Gretchen, I go invisible.” She took a moment to let the reality soak in—that she harbored jealousy for powers a little flashier than her own.

  “They treat you good?”

  He smiled as Dwayne snorted in his sleep. He hadn’t thought of it in a long time. There had been a time it had been weird; they had been strangers, and he was a struggling artist. Now, he wasn’t sure he could go back to his old life. He’d miss the morning coffee in the bar. He’d miss the people, present company included.

  “They’re family.”

  “I thought I had family issues.”

  She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned against his body. He wrapped his arm around her. He wasn’t sure what to say. She had been such an important person in his life. But that life didn’t exist anymore. He wasn’t sure if she’d like the person he had become.

  “Who is he to you?”

  He smiled again. “Great, another telepath.”

  “Ew, I wouldn’t want to hear what goes on in that head.”

  “He’s somebody…”

  “Special?”

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded in silence. He appreciated her knowing when to avoid asking more questions. He wasn’t sure he’d have answers for her at this point. Seeing the man unconscious on the couch caused a tightness in his chest. Whatever demons Vanessa dealt with, Dwayne had them as well. Conthan realized he had his own to deal with at this point.

  “I need to go.”

  “I’m going with you.”