Night Prowler Part One

by Samantha Steele

  I was beginning to understand what he thought, but it was still dumb. It was an interesting concept, sure, but did he really expect me to believe it?

  “And you’re saying I’m this Seeker guy?” I asked. Blaise nodded.

  “Yes. Though the Seeker isn’t always a guy; sometimes it’s a woman. The Signs aren’t always women, either, sometimes they’re men. It just depends on what cards we’re dealt in that cycle.”

  “So, who is this Sign?” I asked, though I had an idea what he was going to say. Things were beginning to be a little too coincidental. The whole thing had to be some big prank; but if Sam was involved, which I assumed she was, why would she want me to say I wanted to kill her? I thought she was on my side.

  “I don’t know. You’ve met her, though. I can tell you’ve felt the rush, the rush of being so near to someone you so desperately wish to kill. Are there any girls you’ve only ever had very short conversations with? A girl you can’t stand to be around because you feel like you’re going to explode? Some say it feels like love until you know what it means. At least, that’s what past Seekers have said.”

  I blanched. But it had to be a prank. It had to be. A really well thought out, elaborate prank. No way in hell was I this so-called “Seeker” and Sam was a Zodiac sign. It’s just a stupid indulgence, it’s not real.

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  Suddenly Blaise reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a shiny, blood-red apple. He set it on the table in front of me.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

  “An apple,” I answered.

  “Do you know where it’s from?” Blaise rolled his eyes, the first sign of annoyance he’d shown since I met him.

  “I’m going to guess a tree, but I don’t know which one,” I said sarcastically. Blaise rolled his eyes again.

  “It’s an apple from the Garden,” he said, lacing his fingers together.

  “What garden?”

  “God you are so dim,” he mumbled before smiling like a frustrated teacher. “The Garden of Eden.”

  I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. Actually, it wasn’t even a laugh; it was full-on guffaw. A deep, belly-clenching, make-you-fart kind of laugh. Tears actually came to my eyes I laughed so hard.

  “If you don’t believe me, taste it,” Blaise called over my laughter. I ignored him, nearly ready to puke. My diaphragm actually started to hurt, it was clenching so much.

  “Phew, oh God I’m sorry,” I said when my fit was over, wiping tears from my eyes. “It’s just, I mean, really… do you hear what you’re saying?”

  “Just taste the bloody apple,” Blaise sighed. “It’s not going to kill you.”

  I had been about to take a bite, but I stopped. Something made me distrust him. Why would he say, “It’s not going to kill you?” I didn’t even suggest that.

  “No I mean it, it’s really not,” he begged, leaning across the table and grabbing my hand. He shoved the apple into my palm. “Please, just taste the apple. If you still don’t believe me after that, I’ll admit I’m a loony and let you go. But I promise, unless I’ve lost my ability to find souls and you’re not the Seeker, this apple will make you believe.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to believe,” I said.

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  Blaise let his head fall to the table with a thud. “Please,”

  he called, his voice muffled from the tabletop, “eat the damn apple. If I fail,” he lifted his head to look at me, “I don’t know what they’ll do. This is my first time out of England. They trusted me with this because I’m the only one who can find you. If I don’t come back with you… Then there’s no way we can defeat the Palace and someone else, someone far less jolly, will come find you and take you against your will.”

  “Are you threatening me?” I asked. My voice had become that scary sound it had been in the hall after I’d beaten Eric. It was like I wasn’t even speaking; I was just listening to myself. Blaise laughed nervously and cowered in his seat. His smile was nervous and fearful.

  “See?” he said, his voice shaky. “That voice, you don’t recognize it, do you? It’s the Seeker’s voice. It exists deep inside you. Your soul is the Seeker. When you’re around the Sign, your body reduces to its most primal need: survival. Your instincts fight with each other because you know she can kill you, but you know you need to kill her.”

  Blaise looked up at me, his expression just short of pure terror. It surprised me; just minutes ago I had been terrified of him. No one had ever been this afraid of me…

  Except Eric.

  Eric had called me the Seeker. He’d known I was a threat to him; that’s why he tried to take me down. And when I came back, he assumed I’d be weak and easy to fight. But I wasn’t.

  When he realized that, he’d prayed. He’d been terrified.

  Was I honestly that scary?

  I lifted the apple to eye level. What could it hurt? After all, even if I wasn’t convicted, clearly the world had been taken over by lunatics believing in time travel and destiny and all that crap. If the apple was poisoned, what could it hurt?

  Why am I thinking about poison apples? Storybook much?

  I bit into the apple. It was pretty damn delicious. The feeling was hard to describe. It wasn’t a sudden rush of knowledge and memories; it was more like a slow wave creeping

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  over my skin. The more I chewed, the more the juice washed down my throat, the more I believed everything Blaise had said.

  Everything began to make sense. Why did the Signs get to choose who lived, who died, who got promoted, who ate the last doughnut? It wasn’t fair.

  We should be allowed to choose for ourselves.

  I took another bite and knew all about the Palace and the Core. I knew the original demigods who protested the Signs had been cast from the Palace and labeled Corrupted. But they weren’t cast to hell.

  No, hell would be the realm of Hades and the other dark side gods. But they were still part of the Palace. They were still divine and humans still worshipped them. By shunning the Signs, the Core had shunned all of the gods. They were banished to Earth, where the signs had complete control. That was the worst punishment of all.

  The third bite showed me the current Sign in cycle, Sagittarius. I knew that Sagittarius was the fiercest Sign, only called into cycle when a battle was to ensue. My battle.

  Sagittarius would fight me. I was the Seeker, and I was going to kill the Warrior of the Gods, the Archer, the Centaur.

  Sam.

  “Do you believe me, now?” Blaise asked as I licked the sticky juice of the apple from my fingers.

  “Is there more?” I asked hungrily, my voice a low growl.

  “One apple from Eden is hard enough to steal without losing your life,” Blaise said with a sly smile. “Eden’s apples are like meth; you feel intensely high after eating one, like you can do anything, but they are highly addictive and extremely dangerous. One is all you need, Zac. There is nothing else to learn; not if you believe me now.”

  “I believe you,” I said, my eyes wide, face blank. “That was amazing.”

  “I wish I knew how you feel,” he said.

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  “You’ve never had one?” I asked, my voice light and breathy. My heart was pumping hard and I wanted to do something impossible just to show it wasn’t.

  “I was raised in the Core. There was no need to force me to believe, to understand. I grew up learning these stories. Eden’s apples are too rare outside of the Palace to use outside of dire circumstance.”

  “When do I start?” I asked, slamming my hands down on the table. “When do I go after her?” Blaise laughed the same laugh I’d given when he told me where the apple was from.

  “I might be supernatural but I’m not Superman,” he said.

  “I can’t bust you outta here. As far as we know, the Sign hasn’t learned what you hav
e yet. Besides, there is a two year grace-period for her, and you, to learn and understand how to use your powers before you are open for attack. Stupid law created by the Goddess,” he mumbled.

  “I thought we went against them,” I asked, my heart still pumping from the apple, itching for a good fight.

  “No,” Blaise said loudly and firmly. “Never does anyone go against the God or Goddess. They are the neutral entities we all respect and worship.” Blaise looked at the ceiling as he said this, putting his palms together in a prayer pose. Then he looked at me. “Piss them off,” he said, “and you won’t live to see the consequences.”

  “But they created the Signs. Aren’t they the ones who started the whole thing?”

  “Most likely they did it to create distinct barriers,” Blaise said, wringing his hands. “It’s not a good idea to talk about them like this.

  By “distinct barriers” I knew he meant good and evil.

  Before the Signs, good and evil had mixed and created nothing but gray areas of war and famine. With the Signs, the future was set in stone and the clear opposing side was mine.

  “You’re going to have to go through the trial process,”

  Blaise said, distracting me. “We can’t do anything to change the human processes – like I said, the future is set in stone… that is, unless the future says you’re going to kill her.”

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  “I don’t get it…”

  “When I say the future is set in stone, I mean no one can change it but her. So what I really mean is, the date that decides the future is set in stone. You may still defeat her and open the future to its fated thousands of possibilities. Ah, our dinner is here.”

  The guard who brought me in pushed a cart towards the cage. Another guard followed him and carried the cart up the stairs while the first guard unlocked the door. He pushed the cart into the cage without a word and walked back to his post at the door.

  Blaise got up and walked toward the cart, which had two silver serving dishes and two beers on it. He pushed the cart towards the table, whistling, and placed one dish and one beer in front of me, and then did the same for himself.

  “You have no idea how hard it is to get good beer in the United States,” Blaise said, sitting down and removing the lid from his tray. On it was a rather juicy, delicious looking steak, fancy mashed potatoes, and an array of brightly colored vegetables. He popped the cap off his beer with his teeth and spat it across the cage. It landed on the floor outside the cage with a tiny “click” and one of the guards came to pick it up.

  “Here, let me get that for you,” Blaise smiled, grabbing my beer and putting the lid against his forearm. He twisted the bottle and the cap came off, stuck to his arm. “There you go, mate. Please, enjoy your dinner.”

  I did.

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  Chapter Six

  Court

  Samantha

  “I don’t want to relive this,” I said to Mitch, scratching my scar.

  “I know you don’t,” he comforted. “None of us do. But Zac needs our help if he’s going to stay out of jail.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted Zac out of jail. Something about the last time we saw each other had me spooked. It was a stronger reaction than I’d ever had before, and I could tell he felt something, too. I wasn’t sure if it was the same something, but it was definitely strong.

  The logical side of me said I was just fearful about testifying. Jacob would be there. It would be the first time I’d seen him since he tried to kill me. Who knew how I’d react? I didn’t want to break down and start crying in the middle of the courtroom. Then again, crying might make me look more sincere, and I had to remember that although the Fastners chose to only charge Zac, I was still suspected as being part of a very intense plan to end Jacob’s life.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

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  “Five minutes later since the last time you asked me,”

  Mitch said with a strained smile, clearly annoyed with me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m scared. I haven’t seen Jacob since that night.”

  “I know, hon,” he said reaching across the table at Starbucks to take my hand. “You’re going to be safe, I promise.

  Zac will be in the room, remember?”

  He laughed and smiled, but I didn’t. I didn’t want Zac to be there any more than I wanted Jacob to be there. To avoid speaking, I grabbed my iced tea lemonade and started sucking on the straw.

  “I’m not sure what order we’re going to testify in,” Mitch said, taking a bite of pound cake. “So you might want to ask your parents to come pick you up later. You know, in case I go in last or something.”

  “I’ll let them know,” I mumbled between drags from my straw. I probably shouldn’t have ordered a venti; I was going to have to pee painfully bad by the time we reached the courthouse.

  Nerves wouldn’t help.

  “Just relax,” Mitch coached. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  I wanted to believe him, but something deep inside made me think that no matter what the outcome was, something would go terribly wrong.

  “I know you’re freaked out,” Mitch said, putting a hand under my chin to force me to look at him. “I am, too. I don’t just hate Jacob; I completely and utterly loathe him. What if I jumped off the stand and started beating the shit out of him again? That wouldn’t look good for Zac.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed and some of the tension eased off my shoulders. Mitch could always make me laugh; it was one the reasons I loved him. He also made me feel safe, despite what had happened on prom night. And, of course, he was drop dead gorgeous.

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  “I thought you weren’t going to show up!” Cami cried, throwing her arms around me. Mitch and I had just entered the courthouse.

  “We’re thirty minutes early,” I coughed. Cami was cutting off my air.

  “I’m glad you’re going to testify,” she said, finally letting me go. “Both of you. I feel like the majority of this is my fault.”

  “Cami, we’ve had this discussion hundreds of times. No one believed him. Nobody blames you,” I said. Mitch nodded.

  “I should’ve checked the door,” he said. “The front desk chick shouldn’t have let Jacob up there. We should’ve told someone the little shit threatened to kill Sam. We can’t dwell on the things we should’ve done; the best thing is to move on and eat our mistakes.”

  “Speaking of eating, I’m fucking starving,” Cami said, rubbing her stomach. “I’m gonna get a doughnut.”

  As Cami walked over to the little coffee stand in the courthouse, Mitch and I sat down on a bench to wait for the lawyers. All six of us – Cami, Bryce, Annika, Evan, Mitch, and me - were being called by the defense, but it was highly likely we’d each be questioned by the prosecution as well. Zac’s lawyer had asked us to come extra early so he could brief us on what was appropriate courtroom behavior.

  I just assumed telling the whole truth was the best plan, but apparently selective truths are a better bet.

  Not long after Mitch and I arrived, Evan, Annika, and Bryce showed up. We were all pretty nervous about testifying, but I was the worst. Everyone else was looking at the situation thinking they were going to help Zac; I was worried about being in the same room with him again.

  If I had another severe adrenaline rush like at the penitentiary, there would be a problem. The jury might think I was strung out on drugs, or just plain crazy, and ditch my testimony. It wouldn’t help Zac’s case, in fact it would make him look worse, but Zac’s case was too closely tied to my possible case to allow for any screw ups.

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  “I saw your mom outside,” Annika said, interrupting my thoughts. “She and my mom were talking to Zac’s lawyer.”

  “My mom said she’d meet me here,” Cami added.

  “Same,” I
sighed. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Mitch asked. I laughed.

  “No, hon, I’m not afraid of my mother.”

  Mitch gave me an awkward smile like he always did when being overprotective. I walked outside and took a deep breath, relaxing a little in the cool summer air. I spotted Annika’s skinny blonde mom before my own, talking with a man I assumed to be Zac’s lawyer. My mom spotted me and offered a quick wave before dismissing herself to come talk to me.

  “You okay?” she asked, giving me a hug.

  “I will be when this is over,” I answered, returning the embrace. “I’m nervous about seeing Jacob. And things are weird around Zac.”

  “You said the prison visit went well, though, right? I wish you’d let me go with you.”

  “It was fine,” I lied. My mom had been pretty much terrified about letting Mitch and I go visit Zac alone in prison. So obviously I hadn’t told her what really happened. I said that I’d thanked Zac, which I had, and that I was more than willing to do anything in my power to get him out of there. I wasn’t, of course, though I didn’t know why. I figured it best my mom didn’t know about my crazy adrenaline rushes. After all, she didn’t know I could read minds, either.

  “Mr. Lowe, Zac’s lawyer, said you’ll be the first to testify,” my mom said, putting an arm around my shoulder and leading me into the courthouse. “I hope you’re up for that. He said you’ll probably get called in about an hour.”

  “Oh, that sounds like fun,” I joked, taking a deep breath.

  “Ms. Steele, why don’t you tell us what happened on prom night, back in April?” Mr. Lowe asked, pacing in front of the witness stand. I explained the night from start to finish,

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  leaving out the drinking, of course. “You say there was no conspiracy to murder Jacob Fastner?”

  “None at all, sir.”

  “Now, he had mentioned he wanted you to die before, hadn’t he?”