by Peter Dawes
He scoffed, taking a drag from his cigarette as well. “I don’t know who to blame, Peter, you or this whole mess.” Julian exchanged his first look with me. “I imagine you have an involved story to tell me. I have one for you when you’re done, but I want to hear what happened from your mouth first.”
“Did nobody replay what occurred using their second sight?”
“They did. We only saw some things, not everything. Or, I think we didn’t see everything.”
I nodded, then settled against the bench, releasing my other hand from the hilt it had been gripping. “You saw me stabbing Brandon Gillies. I doubt Patrick would have masked that, considering it paints a fairly grim picture of what took place.”
“We did.” Julian drew from his cigarette again and admired the lit end while exhaling. “Is it ironic to call a vampire a murderer?”
“Redundant perhaps.” I frowned against the attempt at being lighthearted, when I felt anything but. “My sword ran through him. My hands were on the hilt. It is difficult to explain, but I was not the one who killed him, and even more convoluted to confess that a part of me was being manipulated to do so. What is important is that I believe you were supposed to go on the wild goose chase to find me so you would not go looking for Patrick Flynn.”
“We still have people looking for him. That being said, more people are looking for you right now. You gave the Order a reason to hate you, when they already suspected you and your friend, Robin, might not be on our side.”
“An idea planted by Patrick. He is the one who attempted to incriminate Robin.”
“I know. Or...” Julian sighed. “... I believe you. Though I’m afraid I might be the only one who does, friend, until Patrick is dead.” He bent forward, resting his elbows atop his thighs, and turned his head to regard me. I frowned at the way he studied me. “Did you kill the others? That was what we couldn’t find when we looked. They seemed to be dead already when you killed Gillies.”
I shook my head. “No, they all fell just before Gillies. Simply... fell.” I lifted the hand not holding my cigarette and snapped my fingers. “Whatever he did to them, he killed them without laying a finger on them. I suspect some form of witchcraft behind that.”
“Witchcraft. A talisman to help him. Something like that. I’ve encountered men as powerful as him, but it has been a very long time. They use trinkets to help with more complicated spells, though he might not be able to use it again. Those sorts of spells aren’t easy to perform more than once or twice.” His frown became more pronounced. “What the Order saw – what they think happened – was that you used your gifts against the others before killing Gillies.”
“What about the people I fought in the hotel? I left them alive.”
“You had been surrounded out on the street. They say you killed because you’d been trapped and saw no way out.” He sat upright and held up both hands when I glared, incredulous. “It’s what they think. Not me. The right pieces were left to make you look guilty and nothing exists that links Patrick Flynn to what happened.” Pausing for a smoke, Julian lowered his arms once more. “I understood why their minds went to that place, even if I didn’t believe it. What I don’t understand is why they still think it’s the truth.”
While my expression evened, I felt more confused by the time he finished speaking. He reminded me of the cigarette that I was holding and I used the time it took to draw from it again to identify what about it made me curious. “Something happened,” I said. “You told me they already sent people after me.”
Julian sobered, looking toward the ground before nodding. “They found out you had been confused for a human and taken to the hospital,” he explained. “When you weren’t there any longer, though, the other elders said they lost their opportunity to capture you before you could hurt more people. They brought out one of their artifacts to help.”
“Which one?”
He did not answer at first. Julian stared at the stone and dirt beneath us, something about the way he looked at it indicating he had gotten lost inside his own mind. I waited patiently for him to speak, my eyes set on him until he finally breathed in and exhaled slowly. “I hate artifacts,” he said. “What I hate even more is that we keep them, instead of destroying them.” After drawing from his cigarette again, he flicked the remnant away and looked up at me again. “The one they took out for you draws the energy from a powerful creature. It’s something old they’ve had locked away for centuries, from when there were still other magical orders with sorcerers who would go rogue. It would have contained you. If we still had it.”
We maintained eye contact for several beats. Wind blew the smoke wafting from my cigarette until I decided to take another drag from it and abandon it as well. The implication had been left hanging in the air, waiting for someone to collect it, and I did so once I had the gumption. “How was it taken?” I asked, not even needing to ask who had stolen it.
“Another attack. Like they were waiting for us to emerge with it. And if not that artifact, another one like it. Nobody saw you among the people, but the one man they left alive said it had been two women. One with red hair and the other, dark brown.”
My eyes clenched shut at the mention, the words echoing like one more verse in an already solemn tune. I did not know how little I wanted to hear Julian implicate Monica until he had and now, it left me reeling as another card descended atop a towering stack. Tears welled when I lifted my lids again, both hands lifting to cup my mouth while I scolded myself to stay calm. To keep centered.
‘Do you believe me now?’
I shook my head against the alternate personality speaking in my head, as much to brush Flynn off as to respond to him. Julian watched and while I struggled to find my composure, his expression softened into one filled with compassion. “I am sorry, friend,” he whispered.
“It is...” My voice wavered. I took a breath and lowered my hands, the heels of my palms digging into the wooden bench as I clutched onto it. “It is not your fault,” I continued despite the fact that a tremolo had afflicted my words. The urge to break down became more real and present, making me long once again to be numb. “I take it there is no use in asking if you are certain...”
“The description matches, Peter. I wish I could tell you something else.”
Nodding, I continued scolding myself internally. She was lost and needed to be brought back home. I needed to save her and bring her back home. Something bitter rested on my tongue, warning me that she had indeed come to love evil and wed herself to it, but I warned myself that she might do worse things before I had succeeded in my mission. I would need to prepare myself for things to get far more painful. “It should not surprise me,” I finally said. “Neither should the fact that she would aid them in collecting me. I simply do not know why Patrick failed to when he had the opportunity.”
“Perhaps the artifact is for you,” Julian posited. He shrugged. “It could also be for something else. Maybe he knew we would bring it with us to subdue you.”
“It or something like that, as you said.” Another breath steadied myself at least enough to avoid losing my composure altogether. “This needs to end. Immediately. I need to get ahold of my brother’s journal and pray it has something more to go on.” Without announcing my departure, I lifted to a stand. “Thank you, Julian. You can use that number to get in contact with me if you need to.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, interrupting me as I turned away from him. While I gathered the coat holding my sword underneath my arm, he stood and strode to make up the distance between us. “Do not return to that hotel room. The entire area is crawling with sorcerers, all who are trying to find you.”
I lifted my unencumbered arm in a half-shrug. “What more am I supposed to do, Julian? I do not have a better idea at the present.”
“And you think your brother left you something more to investigate?”
“I know he knows the players in this game better than I do. If he had written down anything th
at might provide us a path to walk, then I need to exhaust that possibility first.”
Julian sighed, folding his arms across his chest and peering heavenward before muttering something in his native tongue again. When his gaze returned to me, he looked resigned to whatever hand fate had dealt him. “Let me do it. I will confiscate any notes or books we found in your room and return them to you. Pick a place where I can meet you, and I will deliver them to you.”
“You should not involve yourself in this,” I cautioned. “If they think you are helping me –”
“I know.” His arms lowered slowly to his sides. “My sister once told me that a calling is never an easy thing, nor does it always follow a direct path. It isn’t loyalty to a person, it’s commitment to a cause.” The other seer glanced away before looking back at me, an unwavering form of conviction while doing so. “If I should be helping you, I will. My stomach tells me it’s the right thing to do.”
Despite the shroud of melancholy which had lowered around me, I could not help but to give Julian a small, heartfelt smile in response. “Then call me when you have it,” I said, “And I will tell you where to find me.”
Julian nodded, and this time allowed me to leave. After hailing a taxi, I arrived back at Evie’s apartment, seeing her seated at the counter adjacent to the living room with Katerina sitting at the table, staring into a paper container containing some sort of food. Richard stood in the kitchen, brewing coffee, while the other two looked at me upon my arrival. I exchanged a nod with Evie before walking to Katerina and sitting beside her.
She looked up at me and flashed a small smile at me. I echoed the effort, with as little sincerity as she offered, the worry etched in her youthful face undoubtedly mirrored on mine. Evie resumed her conversation in the background while Katerina tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, her shoulders slumping while the meal in front of her continued to go ignored.
“You should eat,” I said. “For you, it is not as simple as drinking a packet of blood.”
“I know.” Katerina sighed. “I’m just worried.”
I felt a moment of solidarity with the teenaged girl, seeing the glassiness in her eyes and straining against the urge to revisit the tears I fought in the park. She accepted the hug I offered to her, sinking gratefully against me while I did my best to provide comfort I did not even have for myself. The thought of my daughter in Costa Rica, far away from any such consolation, did not help my disposition any. “You need something to occupy your mind,” I said, though I wondered if I meant the directive toward myself or her.
“Tell me what you were doing. Maybe I can help.”
Nodding, I started into the story of what had transpired while I had been in hiding, from the search for me to the robbery of the artifact intended to aid in my capture. “Julian is supposed to be looking for where they hid Robin’s journal,” I rounded off. “I am hoping that it provides the next piece of the puzzle.”
Katerina furrowed her brow, seeming to be lost in thought. Her gaze found Evie, who hung up the phone, and shifted back to me when the elder vampire paced closer to us. “Did he say what kind of artifact it was?” Katerina asked.
“Not specifically, no. Merely its intention.” I perked an eyebrow at her reaction. “Why? Do you know something about this?”
“Yes.” She winced. “No. Well, maybe. But I don’t know. I need my magical supplies.” Katerina spirited away from the table, her dinner continuing to turn cold as she disappeared down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Evie and I watched her departure, lingering on the sight of the corridor even after she had stepped out of our line of sight. When Evie finally shifted her stance, I broke my stare and peered up at where she stood.
“Was your contact helpful, or did you need to tie up a loose end?” she asked, nodding toward the sword I still held.
It prompted me to set the wrapped-up katana atop her table, avoiding the neglected dinner. “Potentially helpful,” I said. “And possibly on our side. A part of me is grateful for all of the faith being bestowed upon me while another part altogether is nervous at the weight that carries.” I waited as Evie sat in one of the empty chairs before continuing. Richard walked in from the kitchen, carrying a cup of coffee, but remained standing.
I exhaled a breath rife with exhaustion as I continued. “He is going to acquire the journal I am looking for. We need a place to meet with him so that he can hand it off to us. I can always arrange for him to meet with me at the park once more, but I have the sense he could be compelled to offer more assistance.”
“And you believe he can be trusted?”
“I think he would have turned on me in the park if he intended to betray me.”
“Not necessarily.” A grin tugged at the corners of Evie’s lips. “You’re young and far too trusting.”
“You say that and yet, know that I trust you. Is it wise for me to continue doing so?”
“If you were smart, you would know the moment you couldn’t and be on the lookout for it.” She reached for my shoulder and patted it before coming to a stand again. “Will this require another outing tonight, or can I plan this meeting tomorrow evening?”
“Probably not tonight, unless Julian tells me he has gotten himself into trouble.” Slowly, I stood as well. “Regardless of my desire to rest, I should probably lie down on your couch and steal a brief nap.”
“I forget your bloodline can do that.” Evie left the comment hanging, not offering it any further explanation. As she walked toward the hallway, she said, “Your young friend can sleep in the guest room,” and offered nothing else. I watched her open the door at the end of the hallway, saying, “Good morning, Peter, I have work to do before the sun rises,” before she disappeared inside the dark room. Shutting the door behind her, only the sound of locks clicking into place followed her departure.
After that, I heard nothing more.
I cast a glance into the living room, my eyes settling on one of the couches. While the compulsion to collapse into one became that much more present, the sound of soft muttering from the guest bedroom piqued my curiosity. Drifting closer to the open door, I paused at the entryway and peered inside, seeing Katerina kneeling on the floor, lighting a series of half-burnt candles arranged inside a circle. She rested back against her feet and shut her eyes. When she started to chant, I walked further inside the room.
Her hands lifted, palms facing upward, and continued to speak words I did not recognize. The closer I came to her, the more I saw the items she had arranged on the floor, which included a gemstone placed in the center of the circle. Words spilled past her lips, repeated over and over and gaining in intensity until the piece of jewelry lit up, a rush of light traveling from it into Katerina. As her eyes shot open, I instinctively retreated a few paces.
Katerina blinked a few times, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. I thought she might be hurt somehow, until she chuckled. Her eyes met mine and the sound which rose from her mouth turned into relieved laughter, making the young woman before me look deranged for a brief moment. Glancing from the now-depleted gem and back to me, she seemed unable to explain, too lost in the moment to do anything other than marvel.
I strode closer again and perked an eyebrow.
She reached for the jewel. Plucking it up, she held it up to where I could see it. “I’ve figured it out,” Katerina announced. “The spell I had been helping with before you rescued me.” Something about the way she stood made me nervous, as did the way she strode closer. She paused in front of me and held out the stone for me to take, waiting until I clutched it in my palm before explaining.
“He’s going to be the conduit,” she said. “And you’re the gem.”
Chapter Twenty-One
A simple text message, containing the instructions, ‘Meet me at the cafe next to the park. I have the book you wanted,’ flashed up on the screen only an hour past sunset. Even though sleep had been difficult to come by, the summons to action inspired a rush of energy. Adding another piece to
Patrick’s machinations had made them no more clear, except to cast me in the role of its power source. His precise intentions with Raulin Mallowburne’s spell remained an enigma.
As such, I immediately came to a stand from lounging on Evie’s couch. Striding toward the front closet, I did so with such intent, it garnered the attention of my host. Evie looked up from where she sat, at the center island in her kitchen, the newspaper laid out before her. “Did you receive word from your friend?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, plucking my coat from a hanger and threading my arms through the sleeves. “He says he has the book my brother left abandoned.”
“Where will he deliver it to you?”
“Near our last meeting place. Apparently, there is a café adjacent to it.” Adjusting my coat, I glanced around for where I had my sword propped. “I am assuming it will be obvious to me which one he intends.”
“No doubt.” Evie watched in quiet admiration before adding, “Are you certain it’s safe?”
I perked an eyebrow and glanced at her, maintaining eye contact as I strapped the weapon to my hip. “Is anything safe currently?” I asked somewhat rhetorically, following the question with a more honest answer. “Julian would have detained me yesterday if he intended to. I recall saying as such.”
“Yes, but I don’t mean him.” Evie slid from the stool where she had been perched. Slowly, she walked toward me, crossing her arms against her chest as she did. “I heard what you told Katerina last evening. Napoleon stole an artifact intended to be used in your detention. If that was the last thing he needed to ensure your subservience, should you be exposing yourself like this?”