The Seer

by Marie Johnston

  “Ah, Scurn. I admit to selfishly not wanting it to.”

  A smiled ghosted his lips before he paid attention to their surroundings. They were leaving the business district where their hotel had been and were entering residential neighborhoods. “Do you have a better reading of where she’s at?”

  “I know when to turn left and right and that’s more than I had last night.”

  “I should call Demetrius.” A kid was in danger and while he was a trained warrior, he hadn’t fought in a long time, nor did he know who or how many they’d be up against.

  Isabelle tensed briefly. “Yes. I guess you should.”

  Did she have a problem with it? He got on the phone. Demetrius picked up immediately. Scurn rattled off the information.

  “Shit.” Demetrius was silent a moment. “Text the address as soon as you can. Better yet, where are you now?”

  “East Freemont. Just past Washington and Third.”

  “Got it. Stay on the line and keep on with the directions.”

  Scurn wanted so badly to ask about the Synod and what Demetrius was going to tell them, but now wasn’t the time.

  Isabelle made two sharp turns, a right and a left.

  The sounds of fabric rustling and breathing came through the line. Demetrius was on the move but holding the phone to his ear. He barked, “Rourke.”

  Scurn peered at the road signs. The houses were close together, the blocks small. They were still close to downtown. “We’re on Eight Street and Twelfth Avenue.”

  “Rourke and I are on our way,” Demetrius said.

  Rourke was probably the first person Demetrius had passed in the hallway. Any of the team would be fine. Scurn had nothing to prove to himself. Isabelle’s safety and that of the child were paramount.

  Isabelle parked in front of a square, white clapboard house. “This isn’t it, but we’re close.”

  Scurn rattled off the address.

  “Be there in a few.” Demetrius disconnected.

  Scurn and Isabelle craned their necks all around them. The houses were all similar. The one they were parked in front of had two stories, but others on the street had only one. Some had white trim, black trim, others were painted garish colors that could only reflect the decade they were built in. When had sickly green been in style?

  “It’s not late enough by human standards,” Scurn muttered. “There’s too much movement.”

  A car passed them, an average-looking sedan. A couple strolling hand in hand crossed the street and disappeared down the road.

  Isabelle tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not getting new information. Should we get out?”

  Scurn shook his head. “Strangers in a neighborhood dressed in all black? Not a good idea.”

  Isabelle killed the engine and shut the lights off. They should’ve done that right away. He casually glanced at the house they were in front of, but no one was peering back out the window at them.

  A minuscule bike with training wheels and pink designs up and down the frame was parked in the yard. The narrow driveway was empty, and the lawn was ragged but minimally maintained. This family was not prime.

  It hadn’t occurred to Scurn before now that another seer wouldn’t be born into a prime family. His stomach fell. This family would have fewer resources to fight the Synod’s interference in their daughter’s life. They’d have less ability to fight anyone who wanted access to their daughter’s gift. Unless they were the type to try and profit off her.

  Demetrius and Rourke hadn’t arrived yet. If they’d never been here, they probably couldn’t flash and had to drive.

  A shadow flitted across the street, moving faster than any human and way larger than any cat or dog.

  Scurn narrowed his eyes. Another shadow passed across the lawn and disappeared. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he would’ve missed it. The house that was the center of the suspicious movement was a one-story pale blue structure with a one-stall garage haphazardly leaning off the side. Simple, but with the generous window wells of a full basement. A vampire family would have little use for a second story.

  “Did you see that?” Isabelle’s nose was pressed to the driver’s window. “We have to get to her.”

  She put her hand on the door, but Scurn reached over to keep her from opening it. “You are unarmed. Demetrius is on his way. I’ll go.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. “You’re correct. I am unarmed. How could I not plan for that?”

  “Because you didn’t know the girl’s life was in immediate danger. The family will be scared when I go in to fight. You need to be the one to go in after me and calm her and her family.”

  She nodded and her eyes unfocused. “Greed flows like a foul river.”

  The attackers’ or the parents’?

  She blinked and her gaze was pointed. “Be careful.”

  Scurn opened the door. The dome light flipped on. Isabelle gasped and flailed for the controls but nothing worked with the keys in the ignition. Scurn rolled out and refrained from slamming the door. He crouched and eased it closed. It didn’t latch all the way, but as long as that damn beacon didn’t stay on, it was good enough.

  He remained crouched as he sensed the environment. Traffic could be heard around him, but not on this street. Televisions from inside homes resonated enough for him to pick up murmured words and snippets of music.

  He inhaled deeply. Vampires. Male. He smelled faint traces of the family they were after. The males were new and didn’t belong.

  Flashing into the shadow of the home next door to his target, his shoes crunched on landscape rock. He ground his jaw together. Had it been so long that he’d gotten this sloppy? His gaze swept the vampire family’s yard ahead of him. To be fair, in his day, he hadn’t had to worry about dome lights and landscaping other than a few bushes or trees.

  There was nothing in the front yard. Had the males broken in the back door?

  Scurn skirted the neighbor’s house, moving to the grass to keep the sound down. No fence bordered the front yards and he sensed no movement outside either house. Separate chain-link fences surrounded both backyards. He jumped over into his target’s yard.

  Raised voices came from inside the girl’s home. Scurn ran around the back. The screen door hung open, leaving a gaping black hole where the door had been pushed in.

  He drew out his knife, ignoring his gun. A gunshot could draw human attention that would hinder his rescue attempt. He treaded through the entrance. To his left was a compact kitchen with a dining area. To his right was a coat closet, another door, and a stairwell. Voices drifted up from the basement.

  “I told you about her because I trusted you.” A female. The mother?

  “You were right to.” A male with a hint of snide arrogance. “Your daughter’s one of a kind. I hate to waste her potential.”

  Two of a kind, asshole.

  “And what do you think you’re going to do with her?” another male said. The father? “She’s just a kid.”

  “She won’t always be,” a third male said. “But she’s old enough to predict the Powerball numbers.”

  “That’s why you’re here? To get rich off our kid?” Definitely the mother.

  “Get rich. Get powerful. Eventually breed her.”

  Scurn’s lip curled to reveal his fangs. Was that what the council would have done with Isabelle? The smell of these males wasn’t prime, but they were ripe with greed. How would the Synod react when they found out about both Isabelle and the girl? Isabelle had never mentioned seeing numbers that could win the lottery.

  A snarl came from the basement, followed by a grunt and the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh. Scurn used the commotion to cover his descent down the stairs. He moved too fast to be seen until he hit the bottom. A slight male was restraining the frantic mother. She reached for her spouse, who was engaged with the second male. Fists flew, but the father wasn’t naturally a thug like the male he fought.

  The mother
spotted Scurn first and her eyes flew wide. She opened her mouth to scream, but he gave his head a sharp shake.

  She froze like she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t scream, but his presence registered with the male holding her.

  The wiry one twisted to stare at him, and the thug wrenched the father in a chokehold and spun around.

  “No one is taking that little girl against her will,” Scurn said evenly, his knife held at the ready.

  The slender male shoved the mother. “Who the fuck else did you tell?”

  The father sputtered and grunted, barely able to drag in a breath. The thug held a gun to his temple, but Scurn didn’t move. A bullet wouldn’t kill any of them. He sensed the girl, but she was nowhere to be found. Hopefully, she would stay hidden.

  “The girl is mine.” The slender man spoke with confidence. He was the leader. He wasn’t prime, but he carried an air of authority.

  “Nope.” Scurn calculated all his options and the outcomes and settled on taking out the leader first. He’d been the one to voice his vile intentions.

  He exploded into motion, yanking the male back with one hand and stabbing his knife up into the guy’s gut. The move was instinctual, the feel of the blade slipping into flesh and the automatic slice upward all coming back in a startling rush that made the last 105 years nothing but the blink of an eye.

  The leader groaned and flailed. A gun went off. Scurn felt no impact or the fiery burn of a bullet. The father must’ve been shot. Regrettable collateral damage, but reversible.

  Scurn withdrew his knife and let the male fall. Slashing in an arc, he aimed for the neck. The attacker could bleed out and answer to Demetrius later—or get his head entirely removed from his body.

  A force tackled him from behind. The thug was big enough to make an impact, but he wasn’t the professional Scurn used to be. Scurn dropped his slippery knife and flung the second male over his shoulder to the floor.

  The mother shrieked and darted around them, probably going for her mate. Scurn wrestled the gun from his opponent. The attacker’s strength was no match for decades of pushups in the hallway. Scurn flipped the gun around and planted a bullet in the male’s head. He wouldn’t die, but he’d be useless until his body healed the bullet out.

  Human law enforcement would be here soon.

  He spun to find the parents. The father was on the floor, bleeding from his forehead, the other side of his head blown out. “He’ll heal.” She had to know it to be true, but if it was her first violent encounter, her shock might convince her otherwise.

  The mother looked at him, her terror clear in her blue gaze. “Who are you?”

  Scurn debated what to tell her. He resisted sharing Isabelle’s secret, but it was going to come out and getting the girl and her family to safety was critical. “I was sent by another like your daughter.”

  Disbelief flickered in her eyes. “You know about Katrina?”

  “She knows things. We want to help protect her.”

  The mother’s expression rippled with indecision, her thoughts playing out in her eyes. She couldn’t help her mate and her daughter at the same time. Scurn was offering but she didn’t know him or trust him.

  “Who are these males?” he asked. And where is the girl? But the mother wasn’t ready to tell him where her daughter was hiding.

  She tipped her head to the slender one. “He’s my boss. I confided in him about the weird things Katrina has been saying and how she’s predicted the lottery numbers every week for the last month.”

  Lottery. Stock market. Horse races. The ways to get rich off Katrina were endless, and anyone with a surplus of greed and a deficit of morals wouldn’t hesitate to use her.

  Sirens blared in the distance. The mother jerked her head up.

  “Get Katrina,” Scurn ordered. “I’ll get your mate.”

  She hesitated for only a moment before she jumped up and ran to a room with a closed door. Scurn stooped and lifted the mate to his shoulders. They could go through the garage and load everyone. Isabelle could follow—

  The mom came rushing back out. “She’s not here! Oh my god, she went out the window.”

  Hellfire. How were they going to find her and clear out before the cops arrived?

  Chapter 6

  Scurn turned as he scented another male. Demetrius appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his expression grim as he assessed the situation. The mother cowered behind Scurn, her breathing ragged.

  “Your daughter’s with my sister. She’s safe.”

  The mother didn’t calm down. “What— Who—”

  Demetrius held up a hand. Calm radiated from him, mellowing the mother. “My sister and your daughter are very much alike, I believe. Though I admit I don’t know near as much as I should.” He smiled. “Ignorance was safer.”

  The mother nodded, likely wishing she hadn’t spoken so freely about Katrina to her boss.

  Demetrius met his gaze. “Rourke is dealing with the police. We’ll convince them the gunfire was nothing but a discharge while cleaning and only some drywall was damaged.” His gaze switched to where the two bodies lay. “You get Isabelle, the girl, and her parents back to the compound. Rourke and I will deal with these two after the police leave.”

  “Yes, Master.” Scurn started to move, the mother staying in his shadow.

  He exchanged a look with Demetrius as he passed. The male’s green eyes were solemn. They both knew this moment changed the course of Isabelle’s life. Her secret was out. The Synod would have to know. He was probably reading too much into the look in Demetrius’s eyes, but it was almost as if the male wouldn’t blame Scurn if he ran off with her to keep her safe. Or was that just Scurn’s wishful thinking?

  He cleared the top of the stairs. “Grab your keys. We’ll have to come back to grab anything else.” The family’s life in this house was done.

  The mother did as she was told.

  “I’m Scurn, by the way. Bartholomew Scurn.” It wasn’t right, introducing himself while he had a limp body draped over his shoulders.

  “P-Penny. And, um, that’s Daniel. Havers.”

  He nodded. She grabbed a set of keys off the handle and plowed through the door to the garage.

  “Open the back door.” Scurn inclined his head toward the family’s maroon sedan. “I can’t drive, but I’ll get in back with him and try to give him some of my blood.”

  Penny stopped with her hand on the door. “You’d do that? Why are you helping us?”

  “Because doing the right thing doesn’t give me nightmares.”

  She frowned but opened the door. Scurn hefted Daniel into the back. Some sort of plastic contraption was in the way. Daniel was half on and half off of it, but Scurn wedged himself inside. He could change the male’s position en route to angle blood into his mouth on the way to the compound, maybe even get him conscious so his daughter wouldn’t have to see him like this.

  Penny got in the driver’s side and punched the button to open the door. As the garage door groaned upward, they both tensed. Penny’s gaze jerked to the rearview mirror while he craned his neck around. A police cruiser was parked in front of the house, but its flashing lights weren’t on. Rourke and Demetrius stood on the sidewalk next to two officers. Demetrius waved them out.

  Penny didn’t move.

  “Go,” Scurn urged gently.

  That was enough encouragement. She put the car in reverse and backed down the narrow driveway. “I want to see my daughter.”

  “Back out to the left, and when you drive up the road, she’ll be in the dark Mercedes.”

  Penny’s hands clutched the wheel and she drove slowly past the car. Isabelle smiled and waved like they were long-lost besties. A young girl in the passenger seat with hair as translucent as moonlight grinned.

  Penny stopped the car. “The car seat.”

  “What?” They were in the middle of the road, calling more attention to themselves than the police.

  Penny reached back and wrestled the plastic ob
ject out. “I know we’re immortal, but I don’t want her to get hurt if we’re in an accident.”

  She got out and shoved the seat into the back of the Mercedes. Katrina scrambled over the front seat and was buckled by the time her mother got back in the car and continued driving. Scurn rattled off directions to point her to the compound.

  “That female? She’s like Katrina?” Penny continuously monitored the rearview mirrors.

  “She is. I was sent by our old government to kill Isabelle when she wasn’t much older than Katrina.” Penny gasped and he rushed on. “Almost did, too. But I went against the vampire council and I’ve been her guardian ever since. This is the first time we’ve heard of another seer.”

  “Seer?” Penny’s knuckles whitened. “Why Katrina?”

  Scurn thought of Isabelle and the obstacles and isolation she’d faced her entire life. “She can handle it. And you as well. Isabelle’s last name is Devereux.”

  Penny’s sharp inhale was clear. “A prime? Her parents accepted her?”

  “Demetrius, too. That was him back there.”

  Her mouth gaped. “I’ve heard he was an involved leader, but I…”

  “Wasn’t going to believe it until you saw it? You are wise to do so. But he’s dedicated to his people, to his sister, and he’ll do right by Katrina.” Would he, though? It was quite the conflict of interest.

  Scurn brought his wrist to his mouth and nicked a vein with a fang. His scent bloomed through the cab, but the cut was small, allowing only a trickle. Daniel wasn’t aware enough to swallow.

  He cradled the male’s head against his chest. Putting his wrist to Daniel’s mouth, he let his blood drip in.

  Penny managed not to speed through Freemont. Scurn’s admiration of her level head grew. He barely remembered his parents. They’d died before the incident with Isabelle. His father had been killed on a council mission and his mother had walked into the sun not long after. She couldn’t survive without his father.

  What would Isabelle do without him? Technically, she’d fired him. But he’d never been for hire, and he wasn’t leaving her side unless she expressly wished it.