Visions Across the Veil
By
Gretchen S.B.
Copyright © 2018 by Gretchen S.B.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Works by Gretchen S.B.
Night World Series:
Lady of the Dead
Viking Sensitivity
A Wolf in Cop's Clothing
Berman's Wolves Trilogy:
Berman's Wolves
Berman's Chosen
Berman's Secrets (Coming 2018)
Anthony Hollownton Series:
Hollownton Homicide
Hollownton Outsiders
Delta House Series:
The Doll Making Delta
Short Stories:
The Tongue-Tied Hunter
Poker in Portland
The Big City Bachelor
Acknowledgments
I want to start by thanking all of you Night World fans. Thank you so much for hanging in there and waiting for each book.
Thank you to everyone on my mailing list. I hope you enjoy this story as a show of my appreciation for your support.
Thank you to my editor Lacie at Pelican Proofing and proofreader Markie at What A Nerd. You ladies made this story readable for everyone.
Thank you to T.M. Franklin for giving this book such a beautiful cover.
As always, thank you to my friends and family who cheer me on as I work toward my dream of being a full-time author.
Last of all, but not least, is “He who must not be tagged.” Although he hates to be mentioned, he deserves credit for all his support.
Chapter 1
Narcissa rolls her eyes at the devilish smile and the Warrior who possesses it is standing on her front porch. He is, and always has been ridiculously handsome. Even though he is clearly several hundred years older than her, Narcissa has always considered him a young man. It doesn’t help that Warriors don’t age past the year thirty. As her body grows older Bandit and his brother remain the same rambunctious pirates they were when she first met them decades ago.
"Good morning, my favorite Southern Belle."
Narcissa snorts at the platitude. He has called her that since she was a teenager. It wasn’t true when she actually lived in the South, and it certainly isn’t true now.
Bandit does nothing to show his amusement at her reaction beyond a twitch of his mouth. "My faithful vessel is in need of repairs that may take a few days. I was wondering if I might be able to negotiate a stay with you, as I would much rather enjoy the pleasure of your company than a stay at a hotel."
Nodding, Narcissa moves out of the way so the strong, tall, not-so-young man can step inside. As he steps in, she hears the telltale creek that happens any time somebody enters her home. The building is over one hundred years old so that is to be expected. She expressly told both twins they were never to change it. Things like that give the house character in her opinion.
She also knows he isn’t just here because he enjoys the pleasure of her company. Both Bandit and his brother Buccaneer take turns checking on her, making sure to visit every other month or so. They have been doing this since she reached her mid-sixties. Now that she is in her mid-eighties, it’s at least less annoying than it was twenty years ago. There are things about the house she needs assistance with. Having the Warriors stop by and do things for her helps a lot.
Shaking that train of thought she smiles as she shuts the door. "Convenient; you know I have breakfast at nine a.m. every day. Don't you worry, I had a feeling I'd be expecting one of you today so I made enough for two," she calls with a chuckle, as Bandit already stepped through a long entryway and into the kitchen.
He sets the pack he brought with him down on the floor on the other side of the partial wall to wrap her in a large bear hug, lifting her off the ground.
It is a welcome from both brothers she’s received since she was much younger. She wraps her arms around his neck, settling in to the friendly and familiar embrace and smiles.
That is, until he swings her and his long black hair bats her face. Then she leans back, and he takes that as a signal to put her down.
"You know they can cut that for you. It is in fashion to keep it short, unlike when you were young," she teases before stepping around him and into the kitchen, turning off the stove, and removing the bacon she had warming in the oven. She had not known which brother was coming so she settled on bacon and oatmeal because either of them would eat that.
There is a snort over her shoulder. "Haven't you been paying attention, Narcissa? Long hair on men is in again. All I have to do is put it up in a man bun."
"Oh no you don't, not in my house!" she barks over her shoulder at where she hears plates clanking.
There are three young men with scruffy beards and constant buns three houses down, and they are some of the worst neighbors Narcissa has had in her life.
"What? You don't want me making friends with your neighbors?" Bandit chuckles from right behind her.
She turns, ladle in hand and begins pouring oatmeal into the outstretched bowls. "Only if you plan on staying with them while your boat is fixed."
He chuckles again before moving slightly out of her way so she can walk to her small kitchen table. "You wouldn't roll me out into the wilds of Vancouver to fend for myself, would do?"
The snort that comes up from her throat is accompanied by her shaking her head as she sits in one of the chairs at her small kitchen table. "You and Buck have been fending for yourselves for a long time now. You seem to do it just fine."
He follows behind her, holding both bowls of oatmeal. He waits until she is seated before placing one in front of her and the other across the table. Next comes the business of plating the bacon.
“Don't think I didn't notice you are all dressed up today. What's the occasion? Do you have a hot date?" As he asks the question, he sits down across from her.
Narcissa gives a quiet, sad smile. "It is my and Lloyd's wedding anniversary today. While it would be ideal to visit him in person, as you know his resting place is in Mississippi, so I go out and sit in my garden, conjure up a window to his gravesite and visit him from here. I figure it's a best-dressed occasion since the only times I see him are our anniversary and his birthday."
Bandit's spoon is halfway to his mouth and covered in oatmeal. His expression of shock and surprise tells her he wasn’t aware of what today is, and he isn’t entirely sure whether his being there is the best idea. He lets out a few choice curse words, some of which aren’t common modern terms. "I'm so sorry, Narcissa. Would you like me to leave and come back tomorrow?"
Love blooms in her chest for the pirate at his words. She gives him a soft smile, only this time it isn’t as sad. "Don't be ridiculous. You are always welcome in my home. Besides, while I visit Lloyd there are a few things you can do around the house for me to keep yourself busy." She pats the hand he has resting on the table.
He gives her an appraising look for several beats as if trying to decide whether to take her words at face value. He must decide to because he nods and lifts the spoon the rest of the way to his mouth. "All right then. I assume the to-do list is in the usual place?"
The only response Narcissa gives is a slow nod. At the brothers’ request, she has kept a honey-do list of things to be done around the house for more than a decade. It's on her refrigerator on one of those magnetic notepads, and in true brothers’ fashion, it has pirates all over it. Th
ey clearly bought it from a children’s store and thought it was funny. The cartoon pirates don’t bother her any, and when Magical Practitioners come to visit her or seek advice or training they see that. Most people are either too awkward or too respectful to ask about it. But she can see their eyes darting to the refrigerator as if looking at it more will help them decipher why it’s there.
There are only a couple small things around the house that need fixing. A few doors are sticking and two of the kitchen cabinets have somehow sprung from the top hinge. In a day he can easily complete those things. Depending on how much company he thinks she needs, Bandit can also stretch them out over three days if he tries.
They spend the rest of breakfast making companionable small talk. Mostly it is Bandit regaling her with all the trouble he has gotten in to. She loves the brothers because they are basically family. Sometimes they have gotten on her nerves over the decades for a few very small things here and there, but she can never stay mad long. They are the only family she has left other than some nieces and nephews, her cousin's kids down in Louisiana, she speaks to twice a year. And they email back and forth but that is all their correspondence.
Once they finish eating, Bandit grabs the empty plate in front of Narcissa. "You go get ready and do what you need to do. Give him a hello for me and Buck. I will clean up in here."
Narcissa does not respond beyond a small smile and another nod. If Bandit wants to put the dishes away and tidy up the kitchen it makes no difference to her. She pushes her chair back from the table, twisting as she does so, so she can grab the small cloth bag whose handles she roped around the back of the chair earlier in the morning.
She has done this spell so many times she knows the ingredients and amounts by heart and visited the shed in her backyard earlier to prepare everything.
Her kitchen leads right into the backyard from a small door, so she simply takes the bag and slowly makes her way outside.
Once she stands out on her patio it takes her a moment to adjust to the outside weather. There is a nip to the air that almost makes it too cold for the sweater she is wearing without a jacket. But Narcissa knows as long as the wind doesn’t whip by she will be fine. She turns to her left and begins heading to the small, two-seater, white wooden bench that sits almost in the corner of the yard under a trellis that in the spring and summer will be covered with vines. As it is the weather is just cool enough and they are just late enough in the year that the wicker is bare.
To the left and right of the bench are two small side tables that, more often than not, her company uses to hold food or drink while in the backyard. The small bench looks out into the yard and is Narcissa's favorite. Even though the two other benches of similar size that create a semicircle around a small fire pit are all made to be identical by the same MP as a form of payment for training she gave him decades ago. Something about looking out on the backyard makes her feel contented and makes that one bench her favorite over the others.
Narcissa positions herself in the middle of the bench and faces the fire pit, setting the small bag of ingredients next to her. She spreads out the ingredients that need to go first before using her abilities to set them on fire. She adds the last ingredients and snaps. As she snaps a picture appears, hovering in the air above the fire pit at face level of her husband's grave. It’s next to the grave that will be hers one day so at least in death they can live together in peace. Since moving up north this spell was the closest she could get to visiting him as the flight and lengthy drive were just too much for her these days.
There is a slight sting to her eyes as she looks at it through the three-foot portal. It looks as if the groundskeepers are keeping the weeds clear, which she appreciates and the flowers she sent were placed in front of it.
"Good morning, Lloyd. I know it might not be morning wherever you are, but it is here and I'm sure you know what today is."
Narcissa reaches up to touch the necklace that falls under her shirt and holds the wedding band she wore for a decade and a half after Lloyd's passing. It got nicked when she and a few other MPs got into trouble and she couldn't bear to get any more scratches on it, so she decided to take it off and wear it on the necklace instead; this way it is closer to her heart.
"I know wherever you are you have more information on this than me, but I have a bad feeling, Lloyd. I know as a white MP you tended to believe everything would turn out okay and my bad feelings were nothing but bad feelings. I'm telling you though, this time I think something's wrong with the Night World. I don't know why but something just doesn't feel right. It feels like energized air before a lightning storm. I wish you were here to discuss it with. It would be nice to have your shoulders to rely on."
Narcissa swallows the lump in her throat before continuing.
"Bandit is here. He's puttering around the house, fixing stuff that needs fixing. I am sure you remember him. I only met the brothers a year before I met you, if that. You were always so accepting of our bizarre friendship."
She trails off, unsure of what to talk about. She is sure Lloyd, wherever he happens to be on the other side of the veil, can see and hear everything that goes on so there is no news she can really give him that he doesn’t already know or knew before she did. So instead of continuing on, Narcissa simply looks at the gravestone and not for the first time, yearns for a parallel universe where Lloyd didn’t die within the last month of the Korean War.
He was so close to making it home to her. If he had only held out a few more weeks they would've had decades together. But she can’t think like that. This is the hand they were dealt and someday when she crosses the veil herself, Lloyd will be waiting for her with open arms and she will never have to be without him again. Though Narcissa doesn’t exactly know what is on the other side of the veil, she can say with absolute certainty Lloyd will be waiting for her.
She doesn’t know how long she sits in silence, but her attention perks up as the image of her husband's grave starts to get fuzzier, then snaps into focus and it feels as if she is standing only feet away from it. Narcissa knows this isn’t right; it’s as if she isn’t in her garden anymore and yet no magic has brought her anywhere else.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart."
The sob that leaves her throat accompanies tears. She would know that gravelly voice anywhere even if it was more than sixty years since she heard it last. She spins around and sees her beloved Lloyd standing a yard away from her. He stands in the same uniform he shipped out in, not a day over twenty.
Before she knows what she’s doing or can sense whether this is threat or trap, she finds herself running into his open arms. He swings her around in a circle, just like he used to do. It feels so real and yet it feels exactly like a memory.
As he puts her back down, Narcissa takes a step back and sees movement in the bottom corner of her eye. When she looks down she is wearing her favorite yellow sundress that she was married in when she and Lloyd went down to the courthouse instead of having a big wedding.
It was a spur of the moment thing so they wore what they already had on, knowing they didn't want to go another day, let alone an entire war without being married to each other. She takes a better look at herself and sees she is in the eighteen-year-old version of her body.
That’s when she realizes she probably fell asleep and is now in a dream. But the Lloyd standing in front of her isn’t a figment of her imagination. Lloyd visited her a lot when they were younger; his visits became less and less frequent as she aged but she can still sense the difference between her husband's spirit and a regular dream.
"Happy anniversary, my beloved," he croons down at her with a face-filling smile that could light up an entire room.
"Happy anniversary, Lloyd," she coos back.
There is a moment when Narcissa truly believes her husband showed up just for their anniversary. But Lloyd never was very good at schooling his face. He was a terrible liar, honest to a fault. It’
s one of the things she loved about him. As his smile crumbles ever so slightly around his eyes she knows he has a less pleasant reason for visiting her.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she asks cautiously.
Lloyd takes a deep breath and holds out his hands as if he needs to touch her while he shares this news with her. She reaches out and lays her hands on top of his and he gives both her hands a squeeze.
"I'm afraid you were right in your estimation that something bad might be headed this way, and it’s bigger than you think. It will not be some passing bad thing, but a larger problem. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news but it didn't feel right not to tell you. Something big and bad is brewing in the Night World and we are only at the beginning of it. Though the branches of the future have not yet solidified, not many of them will end well. This is why I decided to visit you. When I heard you say you felt something bad was coming I knew it was only right to let you know."
He’s dancing around something. Something he doesn’t want to tell her. Unease starts to blossom in her chest. She and Lloyd knew each other from their teenage years and were together for almost four years before he died. She can tell when he is avoiding saying something.
"Come out with it, Lloyd; being cryptic is worse," Narcissa responds.
"I'm sorry, beloved. I'm not sure how to phrase it. It would seem death might be coming for you, but things have not yet fully come to pass where that is an absolute certainty. There are two avenues that you can walk down. One will be a struggle and will consist of you needing to go into hiding and protection wherever it could be. Or you stand your ground and death takes you. I know you are not supposed to know what happens in your own future but since this requires a decision be made, you should be aware of both outcomes. Before you ask, I don't know how long hiding would allot you."
Narcissa stands, her hands limp in his, as she stares at his handsome face. He is telling her she is going to die, or at least possibly. Her mind begins to whirl. Surely this happens soon and quickly or else he wouldn't already be coming to her with it.
Visions Across the Veil Page 1