Seeing Light (The Seraphina Parrish Trilogy)

by Warren, Michelle

“No, not really, only if you beckon me.” He laughs. “It’s quite like a genie bottle, actually.”

  “I like the sound of that. My personal genie.”

  “Tell you what.” He sits on the bed, facing me, one leg bent beneath him. “I’ll grant you three wishes, but then you have to set me free.”

  “Is that how it works?” I say, willing to play along.

  He smirks back. “So, what will your first wish be?”

  I stare into his eyes and immediately know the answer, but I could never say it out loud. For you to be alive. I drop my gaze and play with the edge of the comforter, rolling the fabric between my fingers.

  “And you can’t say the obvious,” he clarifies as he leans back on one arm.

  “And what would that be?”

  “A make-out session with yours truly.” He waves a hand across his body.

  “Ha!” I laugh out loud. A real laugh, in a way I haven’t laughed since he died. Despite the pressure that I’m feeling, he manages to make me feel better. My face burns with embarrassment but I continue to play because ironically, Hologram Turner is the one thing in my life at the moment that feels real. “Well, now that you mention it,” I say. His eyes light up. “No, we aren’t making out!” I smack him on the leg and laugh again. “That’s not what I meant. I want to show you something.”

  “Okay.” His brow furrows and he tilts his head.

  “I think that there’s something special I can do, and I want you to be the first person I try it with.”

  “Now, this is getting good.” He rubs his hands together with a grin.

  “Do you ever stop?” I giggle. “Just calm down, Casanova, and give me your hands.” I grab each of his hands. The electricity that they’re composed of radiates with warmth, shocking me with pins and needles. “I haven’t really done this before or even attempted to do this yet, but I think it will work.”

  “I’m a guinea pig, then?”

  “I’m afraid so. Do you trust me?”

  “I’m putty in your hands, love.”

  My lips quirk. “Good. Just close your eyes, relax, and be quiet for once—if you can.”

  He raises an eyebrow but does as requested.

  “Look into your mind,” I suggest.

  I settle into a comfortable pose the way Sam taught me, close my own eyes and relax all my muscles, but I’m not looking to see the life path of an object, I’m looking to share my thoughts and memories with my Protector, just as if I were his Seer.

  Then I focus on the evening of the gala, letting him see exactly what happened between us from my point of view. He deserves to know the truth. I don’t want him to regret anything from his Wandering life.

  Bishop makes his way through the crowd, disappearing from view. Now I finally have a moment to do what I’ve wanted to do this whole night. I scan the crowd. When I find Turner alone I march over to him, where he’s pouring punch for himself. Perpetua chats with a group of friends across the room.

  I stand next to him, practically burning out of my skin. With quick movements, I grab a cup, swipe the ladle from his grasp, and pour a drink for myself. I take a quick swig, casting my disapproving gaze over the rim, and then I slam the glass on the table. My opinion can’t be held in any longer.

  “I can’t believe you brought her with you!”

  “Are you suggesting you have a problem with my date?” He smiles, acting innocent.

  “She’s a horrid, back-stabbing witch!”

  He shoves an arm under mine and hisses, “Aren’t you the one who told me to move on, Seraphina? What was it you said exactly? ‘Find someone new,’ I think it was.” He drags me out a set of ornate doors and onto a veranda that overlooks a holographic city. Turner kicks the doors closed behind us. The party and music disappear, leaving us in silence.

  “Ugh!” I grunt and stomp away, but he grabs my arm.

  “No! We’re having this out now! You aren’t going anywhere!” He swings me back to face him. “Why don’t you ask yourself why you’re so jealous of her?”

  “Jealous? I am not!” I scream. “You’re out of your delusional mind!” I pull away.

  But he isn’t done with me. He pulls me back again. My body lands with my chest against his. Before I can react or even say another word, he crushes his lips into mine and kisses me. I struggle to get away, but he holds me there, letting his hungry fingers skim over my shoulders and down my back. His kisses are frantic, hot, and out of control. I lose my mind, because suddenly, I kiss him back.

  All the tension that has built up between us explodes into fireworks. They sizzle through my veins, shooting throughout my body. The kiss, heated with passion, is the consequence of the raw and careless emotional disturbance that’s been building for months. His scorching lips work mine over. I reach into his dark hair and twine my fingers into its roots, pulling him closer, gasping for more.

  Turner kisses the line of my collarbone and bare shoulders. In a frenzy, he lifts me from the floor and staggers backward. I land seated on a ledge and lock my legs around his hips. Then I grab his collar, jerk him closer, and lose myself in absolute delirium. There’s passion—so much more intense passion than I’ve ever felt before.

  “Sera!” The veranda doors fly open.

  We pull away from each other. Turner’s wistful eyes lock with mine. I drag my wrist across my wet lips, breathing heavily. I want to jump back into his arms and devour him when he steps away.

  Sam rushes forward. Her beautiful taffeta gown sweeps behind her. She slaps Turner in the face and grabs my arm, quickly dragging me away. I only look back over my shoulder, staring at his silvery eyes. I want to return and allow his kisses to consume me. A ghost of a smirk reaches his lips as though he can read my mind. Then he’s gone from my view.

  The image fades, and I open my eyes.

  “Whoa,” Turner says and squeezes my hands.

  I blush and look up into his electrified eyes. Reliving the moment brought it all back: the feelings and the passion. Nothing’s changed. Looking at Hologram Turner now, I know in his living life that we belonged together, even if it’s impossible for us now.

  “I could have done without the slap,” he says and releases my hands.

  “You aren’t happy?” I read his expression. “I thought that’s what you wanted? Your only regret.”

  He stands without saying a word and paces the room. With each step he rakes his fingers through his long, wavy hair. He stops and rubs both hands over his face and drops his hands to his side, clenching his narrow hips.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown you.” I stand and cross my arms, feeling vulnerable and wanting to take it all back.

  He quickly steps forward, picking me up and crushing me to his chest, burying his face in my hair as he says softly, “It’s just that it shows me everything that I lost, and that hurts more than you can ever imagine.”

  “There’s more.” I lean into him and close my eyes as I hesitate, knowing that what I’m going to tell him won’t be easy. “You can’t know the one thing without the other.”

  ::20::

  A Field Trip

  Hologram Turner looks at me skeptically. “Go on.” He sets me back on the floor.

  “Well.” I clear my throat. “I know about how Bishop cheated you out of a team. And what you are to me—that you were meant to be my Protector.”

  He has the same reaction as the first time I told him that I knew. Through a bright red blush, relief flashes behind his eyes and his demeanor changes. His hardened macho shell dissolves.

  “I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you for so long, but I’ve been forbidden.” He hangs his head, saying exactly the same words to me as he originally did as a real person.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s the Society.”

  “All I ever wanted was to be recognized by you. Now, tell me how you did what you just did. How’s that possible? Does it have anything to do with what we found in that jail?” He examines me as though the answer is on my face.
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  I fill him in on everything that’s happened since he died. Honestly, he takes my stories about his “hero’s funeral” better than expected. To my horror, he loves every minute of the attention, the parades, the pomp and honor of being recognized as a hero.

  “Is there to be a statue in my honor?” He poses, flexing his muscles.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you!” I smack his leg and he laughs. In response, I roll my eyes but then continue the story, relaying the events of my trip to Nocturna, what Terease told me about my destiny, the prophecy, and that if I’m the Chosen, I’ll fully manifest the gifts of all three team members—Protector, Seer, and Wanderer.

  At that point I pause, deciding whether to tell him about his family. It doesn’t seem right to go there when you have to deal with knowing about your own death too. I leave it out because Bishop and I agreed not to tell him and if we do, we’ll do it together. Besides, there’s nothing Hologram Turner can do about it anyway. Technically, he’s dead.

  “What is it,” he says, eyeing me. “I can tell you’re hiding something from me, I sense it. Like, Protector sense it.”

  Of course he can, because he now knows that I can share thoughts with him. Without even realizing it, I’ve opened the door for him. Will he be able to read all my thoughts now? My mouth drops open in horror.

  “Don’t worry, I can’t read your mind. Not yet, anyway.” He smirks.

  But he wouldn’t be smirking if he knew what I was really keeping from him, so I continue talking. “Sam taught me how to see earlier today and it worked. She thought that I wouldn’t need my team any longer, but the one thing I realized after, was that I’m drawing from the energy of my team—all of you. I’m pulling from Sam to see, pulling from Bishop to protect, and even though you’re not really here anymore, I believe that you were meant to be part of our team. The fact that I can do this with you proves it’s true.”

  I lean toward Hologram Turner and capture his gaze as I say meaningfully, “Just because there’s never been a four-person team before doesn’t mean it wasn’t meant to be. And how would the Society ever know anyway, since they normally kill off one of the twins that may make a four-person team? They’ve been messing with the true order of life for a long time, and this is one of those situations.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “We were all meant to be together for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. And there’s something more to it that I haven’t pinpointed yet, but I will.”

  He narrows his eyes and places a protective hand on my knee. “You realize that traveling back to the beginning is ridiculous. I can’t allow you to do that.”

  “How can I not with everything that’s happened? This is my destiny. I can set everyone in Nocturna free, I can stop the brain manipulations, the sacrificial murders, the bribing of all the students, and the way we’re controlled by our genetics. What we’re doing isn’t living. It’s just existing.”

  “You have a choice. You can walk away.” He pulls his hand away and his posture stiffens in that way I know so well, and I sigh inside. That stubbornness that makes Turner such a great Protector is making this so much harder. He wouldn’t argue with me if he knew the entire story, that his family is wasting away in Nocturna, but this is the best I can do to protect him.

  “No, there’s no choice because there’s only one right thing to do.”

  Turner and I argue early into the next morning. By the time I lay my head on the pillow, we’ve reached no middle ground. He sits on my bed with a perturbed look on his face until I fall asleep, and then he cuddles with me like we never argued. When I wake in the middle of the night, I find that he’s gone. Even the Animate is nowhere to be found.

  Morning arrives too early with a knock at my door. I roll over to see Gabe prancing into my room with a long garment bag. I’m on edge for a moment, thinking he knows that I’ve broken into his penthouse of glamour, but he seems to be acting normal, so I act normal.

  “Ugh, I forgot.” Today is a Wandering field trip. I rub my sleepy eyes.

  “I’m offended, my little pot pie. Do you know how hard I work to put these fantastical adventures together?” He hangs the bag on the door, turns, and places a hand on his hip in exaggerated Gabe fashion.

  “No, but I’m afraid you’re going to tell me, aren’t you?” I lift my head, hair nested and ratted on one side, and throat dry from arguing with Hologram Turner all night.

  “For now I have to finish my costume deliveries, but I’ll make a note to come back and school you.”

  “Awesome, I’ll put it on my calendar. ‘Meet Gabe for a snooze fest.’”

  “Sass me all you want, sweet cheeks.” He waves a painted fingernail. “I’ll only haunt you more.” He shuts the door behind him, and I smile with satisfaction for getting under his skin. Our beloved activities director deserves a much worse punishment for what he’s apparently involved with, but it’s a start. I sit upright, legs dangling over the side of the bed, and yawn before I stand and stumble across my room into the bathroom.

  I lean into the mirror, inspecting the “contacts” in my eyes, which I assume I’m leaving in since I don’t think there’s a way to remove them. Red veins feather from my irises from lack of sleep and stress, reminding me that the clock’s counting down. I have to find the relic to take me back to the beginning—to free us all, I hope.

  After I’ve showered, I unzip the garment bag Gabe left. On any other day this would be like opening a present. What girl wouldn’t want to play dress-up in these gorgeous historical gowns? But today I grumble through fastening each button of the bustled blue day dress. Then with a few more huffs, I fix my hair, following the instructions that he provided for hairstyles of the late 1800s. I should be focusing on finding Unika’s crown, which would take me back to our beginning, rather than lying low like Miss Swift suggested.

  There’s a knock on the door. When I open it, Sam stands at the threshold. “What’s up?” I ask and allow her to enter.

  “Wanted to make sure you were here and following orders.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I turn to her as I’m slipping on a pair of earrings.

  “Normally you’d be off on your own, Wandering through time to solve everything yourself.”

  “That was the old Sera. This is the new and improved Sera.”

  “I like her. She should stick around.” Sam begins making my bed and I snicker to myself. She’s such a neat freak; it’s like she can’t help it.

  “Good, ’cause you’re stuck with her.” Until she dies trying to save the Wandering world as we know it, came the unbidden thought. My mood dips briefly before I force myself to be cheerful. “Besides, why would she leave when she has you to clean up after her?”

  “I’m always good for something.” Sam fluffs the pillows. “Now if I could only coax you into cleaning up the rest of your crap.” She eyes my room, which looks like a wrecking zone.

  “That’s the part of old Sera that you’re stuck with. Sorry.” I stick out my tongue and one side of Sam’s mouth twitches in response.

  “Bishop’s made some tea, and I think you’ll want to watch the morning news.”

  “What now?”

  “More attacks.” She frowns.

  I follow her into the living room where Bishop sits in front of the TV, slouched on the sectional sofa with an arm hung over the back pillows. He’s watching frightening video coverage of an explosion at a Wandering university in Russia. Then additional videos of similar scenarios play out in different cities around the world. In every one, people run and scatter, screaming frantically for their lives. Plumes of smoke and debris fly through the air.

  At the end of the terrifying footage, Gabe’s face appears on the screen. This newscast is prerecorded and runs on a loop on the Academy’s TV station from early in the morning until lunch. “Even with the unconfirmed death of the Underground leader, Cece, all signs indicate that the rebellion has brought the fight between us to the Normals’ wor
ld. Grand Master Levi indicated that it will be increasingly difficult to hide our secret organization from the outside world with such brazen attacks, singling out our Society facilities.”

  Slowly, our magical world is leaking deeper into the Normals’ in ways other than manipulating time. My gut twists and pinches more with each new revelation.

  “Casualty reports are still coming in, but we know at least two hundred are injured, and forty-eight are confirmed dead. Most of them Normals.” Gabe flips the note cards in his hand.

  My heart drops at the news, and I slouch back into the couch next to Bishop in shock. “Everything really is falling apart, isn’t it?” I look to my team, whose faces mirror my own sadness.

  Bishop flips off the TV. “I can’t take any more madness.” He stands and without another word retreats to his room, shutting the door behind him. If I had to guess, he’s probably sitting in his favorite reading chair with his headphones on, blasting classical music. If I wanted, I could try to check his mind and see, but I’m not ready to share that ability with him, and opening that door would mean that he would realize we had that connection. For now, I like having my thoughts to myself.

  “He’s just upset because he can’t stop what’s happening to you. He can’t protect you from your destiny,” Sam says, leaning over my shoulder as she grips the back of the couch.

  “I don’t think anyone can.”

  “Did you find anything else in the journal last night?” She walks around the couch and seats herself next to me.

  “No, just what we found before, the hint about the prophecy and a lot of drawings. But it didn’t help that Hologram Turner argued with the me the entire time.”

  “Nothing’s changed between you two, then.”

  “He’s as annoying as ever.” And I still can’t have him.

  At that instant, the scorpion Animate crawls across the floor to my feet, and I bend down and scoop him up. “Where have you been?” I say as I lift my hand and the machine skitters up my arm and onto my shoulder.