by Bianca D’Arc
While he was moving around Syd’s house, he couldn’t help noticing things. Her possessions were light. The house looked as if she’d just moved in recently. Or maybe, she just liked the Spartan look, but somehow, he doubted it. He did find her laptop and put that aside. He’d have to spend some time examining that to see what the interlopers might’ve installed there to spy on her computer usage. He assumed there’s be a keystroke logger, at the very least. Perhaps something even more insidious.
Once he cleared the laptop’s system, he could use the machine to download the surveillance chips, then clear them to reset the individual pieces of equipment. He found a few wires that would suffice for the task and put them and the computer on the dining table, near the pile of disabled gear.
Every time he ventured back into the living room, which was part of an open-concept design where the living, dining and kitchen areas were all part of the same big space, he checked on Syd. She would rouse and ask him what time it was or for a sip of water, but then would lapse back into sleep—or unconsciousness—he wasn’t sure which. She would be okay, though, until he was certain they weren’t being watched. Then, he’d do a bit of magic and fix her up as best he could.
Syd became aware of someone touching her head. Paul. The handsome man who’d been in her car. He was in her house now, and she wasn’t quite sure how that had happened. She felt a tingling warmth spreading from his hands to her head, and the pain and confusion lifted a bit. It still hurt, but she was able to think a little better. Then, she remembered.
“Those people,” she whispered. “You made them go?”
“It’s okay, Syd,” he crooned to her as he let her head fall gently back onto the throw pillow. She realized she was laying on the couch in her living room. “They’re gone now, and I’m removing the things they put in your house. You’re safe now.”
She felt him move closer and smelled the cinnamon-y scent of him as her eyes closed. And then, she thought she felt a whisper of a kiss on her forehead before sleep took her away again.
The next time she roused, she opened her eyes and immediately saw Paul sitting at her dining table, her laptop open and on in front of him. Why was he using her computer?
Syd sat up, her hand going to her head as it throbbed. Ow. Darnit, that other man had hit her on the head, and she was going to be feeling it for a while, she was sure. But her mind was clear. That was something, at least.
She just sat there for a few minutes, giving her head time to stop spinning a bit. She glanced over at Paul and the computer and was a little shocked to see images of her own bedroom on the screen. The image showed Paul walking into the room and looking around. He paused by her bedside lamp and removed something small with wires from under the base. He made his way around the room until seeming to recognize the camera. Then, he reached out for it, and the last image was of his hand—an ultimate close-up before the image went black.
“How are you feeling?” Paul asked, even as he unhooked some wires from a small device then plugged in another piece. Immediately, another image started playing on her laptop screen. This was a view of her living room and the strange people in it, moving through her house.
Syd rose slowly to her feet, more interested in what she saw on the screen than the pounding in her head. She walked slowly over to the table, her eyes glued to the screen.
“Those people were all over my house,” she said, watching them in utter bafflement. “Why?”
“They were a team sent to install surveillance gear,” Paul told her in a calm voice as he pointed to the pile of black wires and tiny plastic bits on the table. “I removed it and am downloading some of the images, so we can identify the team members, if possible. Then, I’m blanking the individual chips in each piece of the gear and resetting everything, so nobody can remotely access anything.”
“What about my laptop? What if somebody steals that? Won’t everything be on there now?” she asked.
Paul pointed to a USB drive sticking out the side of her laptop. “I’m saving it all to this, not your hard drive. It’s far easier to keep a little USB drive safe than a laptop.”
“You sound like you know what you’re doing,” she observed, wondering again about him and what he was doing here, even though she didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d saved her from those people and knew what to do about the bugs. She was grateful for that and wouldn’t press him too hard. She needed his help…at least for now.
“I’ve done some work in electronic security back home. All this gear is made in China and Japan nowadays so it’s pretty universal. We use the same stuff in Romania.” He turned to look at her. “How’s the head?”
“Painful, but I’m thinking clearly again. Thanks for watching over me.” She took a seat next to him at the table. “How long was I out of it?”
“About an hour,” he replied. “Maybe an hour and a half. I checked your pupils, and you don’t seem to have a concussion, but I was standing by in case you needed help. If you didn’t wake up on your own soon, I would have called in medical help.”
“Thank you,” she said, knowing she owed this man a great deal for the assistance he had rendered. She was going to say more when her attention was caught again by the action on the screen. She saw herself walking into her own living room from the side door that opened onto the driveway. “Damn. I blundered right into the middle of that, didn’t I?” Paul moved his hand, probably intending to turn off the playback, but Syd reached out and covered his hand with hers. “No, let it play.”
She watched herself run out, followed swiftly by the man who had hit her on the head. There was audio too, she realized, and she grabbed the mouse herself and turned up the volume. She saw herself being carried back in, slumped over the man’s shoulder in a fireman’s lift. He dumped her on her couch and started barking orders to his people to hurry up.
“He’s the leader,” she realized, speaking it aloud.
“Yes,” Paul answered. “I believe so.”
The team was bustling around, moving into high gear, and then, Paul walked in. All activity ceased as he spoke, and she watched in fascination as he confronted the leader of the group. It was clear from the words and images—and the body language—that Paul was not in league with these people.
Syd trusted her ability to hear when someone was telling a lie, and nothing she heard from Paul’s side of the conversation with the team leader rang false. The other man, however…
When the leader claimed to be Altor something, he was lying. She heard it as plain as day. Syd clicked the pause button and turned to Paul.
“You know he was lying, right?” she asked him point blank. “He’s not this Altor whatever. He’s something else.”
“How do you know?” Paul’s eyes narrowed as he regarded her.
She countered with a question of her own. “How did you see the tattoos you two were talking about? I don’t see anything. There are no marks on them.”
Paul sat back in the chair and just looked at her for a moment. He seemed to search her gaze for something, then come to a decision.
“All right,” he said on a gusty sigh, both of his hands on his thighs. “I have some magical ability. The tattoos they had were magical glyphs, only visible under certain circumstances to the vast majority of people, but visible to me at all times. I have what’s known in my country as sight. I can literally see magic.”
Syd was nonplussed. Of all the answers she might have expected, that wasn’t one of them.
“That’s a thing? Like a real thing?” she asked before she could stop herself. Paul seemed to find it amusing, his lips curling upward.
“Yes, Syd. It’s a real thing,” he told her patiently. “In my country, magic is much more widely accepted than here. Romania has an ancient culture.”
“Whereas the United States is less than three centuries old. I get it,” she told him, nodding. “We rely more on technology than magic here.”
“Now, tell me, how do you know he was lyi
ng?” Paul seemed interested, not disbelieving.
Syd shrugged. “It’s just something I’ve always been able to do. I know when people are lying to me.”
“Really?” He looked skeptical, so she decided to prove herself.
“Like when you lied to me about being used to cities. I knew right away that wasn’t true. You prefer the country, don’t you?” She had never told anyone about her little lie-detecting ability before, but suddenly, it was important to her that Paul believe her.
His gaze narrowed again. “You are correct. I prefer wide-open spaces, but what I told you wasn’t a complete falsehood. I grew up in a city.”
“Maybe, but you said something about preferring cities. That was a lie.”
Paul bowed his head slightly. “Very true. I can see I’m going to have to choose my words more carefully around you if I feel the need to tell falsehoods. That is an impressive gift you have. It must be very helpful to know when you are being lied to.”
“Helpful…and isolating. You wouldn’t believe how many people find it acceptable to lie all the time about silly things. I just can’t be around that type of person. It drives me nuts.” Her disgusted tone earned her Paul’s amusement. Rather than continue the conversation, she clicked the play button on the video and watched the rest of the drama unfold.
She was incensed when she heard her car trouble described as a delaying tactic. Those bastards had not only invaded her home but had sabotaged her engine! They were the reason she might’ve been stranded alone on a stretch of road that seldom saw vehicular traffic.
Syd wanted to applaud when Paul threatened the call the police and the leader’s face visibly paled. But when Paul threatened to kill them all… Syd frowned. He hadn’t been lying. Not one little bit. Was Paul a murderer?
Then, he said he wasn’t human. Not human? Syd turned to look at Paul.
“What are you, if not human?” she asked, shaken.
“Have you ever heard of shapeshifters?” He countered her question with one of her own.
She frowned at him. “My friend, Arthur, is Native American. I know his culture has some stories about people who can turn into animals and back again. Is that what you are?”
“Something like that,” he replied, and she could hear no falsehood in his words. “But from the other side of the world.”
Just at that moment, her phone rang. Syd got up to answer it, breaking the tension in the room. She hung up after only a few moments and went back to stand by the table.
“It was a telemarketer,” she told Paul unnecessarily. He’d probably figured it out already based on her part of the conversation.
“Good. Don’t have any conversations on that phone until I’ve had a chance to check the line.” He turned back to the computer and booted up another section of footage. “They say something here you should hear,” he told her, before hitting the play button.
Chapter Four
Syd’s jaw just about hit the floor when she heard the people on the team that had invaded her home mention the name of one of her coworkers. Elliot worked in the office, while Syd spent most of her time outdoors in the nursery, working with the plants and trees they nurtured for sale and eventual inclusion into the local landscape.
“That bastard!” she said, when it became clear from the talk between two of the team members who were placing bugs in her kitchen that Elliot had reported her recent strange behavior to these people.
“What happened at work that revealed you?” Paul asked in a no-nonsense voice once the recording had ended.
“I saw something fall on Lizzie and break her leg, only, when I came out of my momentary daze, it hadn’t happened yet. It was about to, though. I ran over and caught a large stone statue, redirecting its path so it didn’t hit her, just in the nick of time,” she admitted. “And there were a couple other things like that.” She didn’t really want to go into detail.
“You see the future?” Paul asked point blank.
“I don’t know. Maybe? I see things, but this is new. It only just started happening in the past few weeks, and it’s been getting clearer and clearer, but I can’t control it or anything.”
“So.” Paul sat back in his chair. “Something has awakened a magical ability in you, and this Elliot person knew enough to not only recognize the signs but also who to call to put you under observation.”
“Who were those people? What is that Altor thing you all were talking about?” She could only focus on so much at a time. The fact that Paul had claimed not to be human was something she would deal with later. As was the fact that he didn’t seem at all nonplussed by speaking of magic and clairvoyance, while it still freaked her out.
“The Altor Custodis is an ancient order of watchers. They have kept detailed records of magical folk for centuries. Perhaps millennia. It’s hard to learn much about them, because to be a member, one is supposed to be a non-magical human. They seem to think that by keeping track of all the Others in the world, they are doing some kind of service to humanity or something. Frankly, I have my doubts about their mission or their groups’ purity. It may have started off well enough, but in recent decades, their databases could have been easily corrupted to isolate and destroy those of us who fight on the side of Light.” He paused, taking a breath and seeming to consciously suppress some of his anger. “There have been warnings issued at the highest level in recent years that the AC has been infiltrated by the Venifucus.”
“And the Venifucus are…?”
“Servants of evil. Magical folk who use their powers for dark purposes in service to the Destroyer of Worlds, the Mater Priori, a fey witch named Elspeth, who laid waste to this realm centuries ago. Some say, she’s come back, and the Venifucus organized it, though I haven’t seen any direct proof of that yet, only anecdotal evidence.”
“She doesn’t sound like a nice person,” Syd said, knowing she was making quite the understatement.
“If evil has a face, it’s hers.” Paul’s tone was flat as he seemed to suppress his deeper emotions.
“So, let me get this straight. Elliot noticed a few things that happened at work, and he either knew someone who’s a member of one of these groups or is one himself. He felt strongly enough about the little incidents that I thought I had hidden pretty well that someone sabotaged my car and set up this huge operation, not to mention laying out the money for all this equipment, to watch my every move.” Syd was struck again by how sinister this all seemed.
“That’s about the size of that.” Paul gestured toward the pile of wires and plastic in the middle of the table. “Though, we can reuse a lot of this. If not here, in a security system for your house, then I know some people who can definitely put this stuff to better use. They might even pay you for it, if you like.”
“They’re not like those others? They won’t use it to spy on innocent people, will they?” She wanted to make sure before she agreed to anything.
Paul shook his head. “Strictly protective use. Defensive. Never offensive. I swear.”
“Then, you have my blessing to just give it all to them. As far as I’m concerned, I never want to see any of it ever again.”
Paul looked as if he wanted to argue—perhaps about installing some of it around her house or on the grounds—but she’d made up her mind. That equipment might be innocent in and of itself, but it would always carry negative connotations in her mind. She didn’t want it around.
“So, what else can you do?” Paul hit her with the question seemingly out of left field.
“What? Like magic tricks?” She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m new to all this. I have no control over what I see, or when I see it. Even then, I usually don’t understand what it is I’m seeing. Just lately, the visions all have to be some kind of weird metaphor.”
“What makes you say that?” Paul’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her.
“Winged things. Fire in the sky. Fiery wings and dark wings,” she told him. “Arthur says they’re mythological creatures. Phoenixe
s and dragons. But what does it all mean?”
Paul had a better idea of what her visions could mean than he really wanted to let on. He had made the statement to the supposed AC agents that he wasn’t human, and he knew Syd wasn’t just going to drop that subject. She would ask him more about it. He was sure of it. But admitting that he was a dragon wasn’t something he wanted to do right now. If it came out later, so be it, but he wasn’t going to advertise the exact nature of his other half when Syd was still largely an unknown, and a target of one of the ancient orders.
Whether it was the AC or the Venifucus didn’t really matter. Paul didn’t want to become a target for either one of them, though perhaps he had already drawn the bullseye on his own back by coming to Syd’s defense tonight.
She seemed so genuinely confused about her visions that something inside him wanted to take pity on her and explain. He couldn’t do it. Not in full. Perhaps, though, he could give her a partial explanation. Something that might help settle her mind and help her interpret the things she saw a little more easily.
“There are shapeshifters that fly,” he told her gently. “Winged things. Eagles. Hawks. Mostly larger birds of prey.”
“The things I’ve seen aren’t exactly like birds. At least, not any kind of bird I’ve ever seen. The ones with feathery wings are always on fire, yet they don’t seem to mind. Arthur said they might be phoenixes. The things with the scales and dark wings are breathing fire. Like dragons in some kind of dark fairy tale.” She frowned. “It has to be some kind of metaphor, doesn’t it?”
Paul knew he was making a pained face. How could he tell her this without revealing too much?
“Not…uh…” He squirmed a bit, not wanting to say this badly and fearing her reaction a bit. Would she scoff? Or would she get scared? Either was a possibility.