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Authors: Peter W. Dawes

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Richard scowled. “Well, you’re not special, Flynn. All you are is evil, and around here, we exterminate your kind.”

I stole a glance toward my partner in crime, seeing her struggle against her guards while staring intently at me. Her lips moved, however, and, I realized, not with a covert message. Something about their cadence rang familiar. My eyes shot back to Richard before he realized the same thing I did, and I fought against a grin as I formulated a plot. “Tell me something,” I said, “Before you send me to my second death. Would you humor a convicted criminal, Richard?”

He stopped a few feet shy of me and looked up at me skeptically. “
Why on Earth would I do that
?”

“I want to know how beings such as you think.” I tilted my chin, able to do that and nothing else. “You presume yourselves higher than The Fates if you think you can ignore a direct communique from them. You did not put it to the test or evoke whatever fucking charlatan witchcraft you bastards wield to see if we were lying. You automatically discounted us in favor of your own agenda.”

“B
ecause I know your kind.” With one hand, he unbuttoned his coat, and with the other, he reached inside. “Vampires are devious and incapable of reform.”

Something about the motion of his hand unnerved me, but I suppressed the urge to react. “Devious? I suppose so. The duplicity of vampires is rather infamous, but this does not make me a liar by default.”

“True or untrue, we’re
still left with what you are – a
killer. I don’t care if you think you’re reformed now, eventually you’ll slip and we’d be
right
back to where we are.” As he pulled his hand out from beneath the veil of fabric, he revealed a wooden stake
etched with strange symbols, each bearing an arcane – almost Celtic – quality to it. His fingers tightened around the base
. “Your sentence is to be carried out before that happens.”

“And here, I thought I was the only one who liked to conceal weapons.” I grinned as Richard reared back to administer the death
blow. He paused when
he c
aught sight of my fanged smile.


Look at you, a devil who
would
smirk all the way to the grave.

My grin broadened.
“What good is death without a dance?
Though I am
hardly the one
you
should
be interested in right
now.”

“Oh really?” Richard laughed. “And who would that be?”

My eyes flicked toward Monica. “Her.”

He turned to look at Monica as I heard her say, ‘
Now, Flynn,
’ in my thoughts. My focus divided between the guards, necessity forcing me to the next stage of my lessons. Teeth gritted, I shoved the bodyguards away from Monica so her gloved hands could rise. As everyone floundered to regroup, she finished her spell.

“Be freed!” she said.

Richard’s incantation surrendered its hol
d. I fell to the ground, knees
buckling from the sudden
need for self-support
. Richard spun
back
around as I stood. Our eyes
locked and I felt
anger surge. My fingers clenched in
to
a fist
and,
before I could stop
to consider the action, impacted
Richard’s jaw with the force of
my vampire strength behind an
untempered blow. Lifting my foot, I kicked his knee with the same amount of vehemence and ignored his wails of ago
ny as he toppled to the floor.
I brushed the dust from my suit jacket
as I strolled forward
. If not for the fact that Monica ran for me, I might have been tempted to drain the elder councilman.

She took hold of my hand and tugged me forward. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” she said, “Before I completely lose my faith in humanity.”


My sentiments precisely
.”
Together, we
walked swiftly toward the opposite end of the meeting hall. We made it halfway to the double doors
standing between us and freedom
when a voice compelled my watcher to pause. “Don’t do it, Monica,” Richard said, his speech labored.

Monica’s hand tightened around mine as she turned to look at him. Richard met her gaze from his position on the ground. “You leave with him and that’s the end of
any leniency
,” he continued. “You’ll be hunted right alongside the vampire.”

I frowned, trapped in the awkward position of holding hands with a statue. She narrowed her eyes at Richard. “
If that’s how it has to be,
I refuse to leave Flynn.”

“And throw your life away? Why? For
some
pledge you made to your sister?”

“S
ister?” I asked, interjecting.

Ignoring me, Monica let go of my hand and marched a f
ew paces toward Richard. “W
hy should I abandon him? So I can create a self-fulfilling prophecy for you? You’d love to be right, but I’m not going to give you that satisfaction. You do whatever the hell you want.”

Monica continued raining curses down on Richard, but something tickled at my subconscious, forcing my attention away. A chilling omen drowned out my watcher’s w
ords of condemnation as
the air
fe
lt
fifty fathoms deep. I turned my head and perked an eyebrow, trying to discern its source.

The hair on the back of my neck stood aloft. Warning sirens blared inside my mind, frustratingly unspecific in their message. I studied the Council members, seeing them still laid out on the ground as they had been before. All four, besides Richard.

Four. My eyes widened. T
here had been five o
thers, and
I realized this just as the premonition turned more urgent. I swung around and received the largest shock of my immortal life at
the sight before me
.

“Flynn! Look out!”

Monica’s command only froze me in position, rendering me the proverbial deer gazing stupidly into a pair of headlights. Lewis was the one I failed to take into account and, as
he dashed toward me, m
urder clouded his thoughts.
In his hand, he held Richard’s stake.


Fates be damned, I am about to become a pile of dust on the floor.

Chapter Two

 

I was raised on a farm in rural Pennsylvania and went to school just like any other young man. I had been orphaned at thirteen years of age,
and lived
with my aunt and uncle for the duration of my formative years before beginning my studies at Temple Unive
rsity.
I
had been relatively alone, having gone through a
cycle of failed relationships for the bette
r part of my college career. Still,
I had known mo
re happiness than despair. W
hen Lydia Davies became a part of my life, I was a young resident doctor blessed with
a bright, meaningful future ahead
.

The two years we enjoyed together were interrupted by my sed
uction into immortality
. Sabrina had convinced me that
what I had
lacked
permanence. W
ith her words tainting my vision, I
saw nothing but death and ang
uish surrounding me at work,
and the quest to
find
forever became a consuming need. I thirsted for it to the point of obsession. The beast overcame me. Sabrina
granted me that which I desired
and collected my soul in exchange.

And what an accused gift it had been thus far. It g
ranted
me eternal life, but ripped away my humanity.
Nearly every memory
of the years
that followed was
crimson-splattered, haunted by a litany of voices c
rying out against my sins. S
uch were the images
that were invoked
as I stood in the middle of the Council’s meeting room. I saw the deaths of many; almost felt their flesh beneath my fangs and tasted their blood runnin
g down my throat. I watched each being
fall to my feet, reminded countless times how much of a sadist I had become. So lost was I in these thoughts, I hardly noticed Lewis headed for me with a stake any longer.

I did not pause to wonder if my mind was being
manipulated
, so I remained fixed in place. The scene would have only been more picturesque had I lifted
my arms
in acceptance of
death’s sweet embrace. It was not until her voice broke through the madness that I was knocked from my stupor.

“No, Flynn, come out of it
!”

Shaking my head, I blinked several times, feeling as though I had just woken from a frightful dream. As I struggled to orient myself, however, two things occurred simultaneously.

First, I discovered Lewis was far too close for comfort. In the seconds it took for me to begin motioning away, he reached me and thrust the stake forward. The death blow fell short, though, when the second event transpired: Monica, who had begun running for me the moment I failed to respond, shoved me out of the way and placed herself in the line of fire. I toppled backward, twisting and landing on my side when unable to hold my balance. As I glanced up, however, I beheld a harrowing sight.

The stake plunged into Monica’s
upper
chest, dangerously close to where her left lung should have been. She
managed to stumble
to
ward one side until
a shriek of unadulterated agony surged past her lips
and
her knees buckled. I reacted just quickly enough to catch her in my arms.

Her head flopped into the crook of my elbow. “Put me down and get me out of here,” she murmured with her eyes clenched shut, “Before they have the chance to tangle you up again.”

“Woman, you are the most quixotic creature ever fashioned,” I said. Gathering her against my chest, I was careful not to
jostle
the stake protruding from her
wiry frame
. I stood with her and lifted my eyes to stare at the daft human still poised in front of us. Lewis
stared
, wide-eyed, at Monica before making eye contact with me. I sneered. “Heaven help the lot of you if she dies because of this.”

I wasted no more precious time. My foot lifted in a swift kick aimed right for Lewis’s stomach, sending him stumbling backward. As he fell to the ground, I secured Monica as tightly as possible and
ra
n for the back entrance. Angels in the architecture looked down upon me. If the Order had been intending to show me the error of my ways,
the lesson was sorely lost
.

W
e made our way into the night, headed for the only place I could think of going. Vampire speed saturating every step along the way, I rounded a corner and disappeared down an alley with Monica.

My next stop: Temple University Hospital.

 

***

 

As an assassin, I rarely experienced genuine fear. Whether I lacked the same
emotions I possessed as a human
or if it was part of being so desensitized to danger, I hardly found myself fazed and certainly never unnerved. It was what made me an effective killer for five years.

That being said, as I ran with Monica in my arms, I had to fight for every ounce of composure I retained in our dash through the city streets. Wing-tipped shoes pounding on asphalt and splashing in freshly-created puddles, I dodged the drops of an impromptu spring shower, my damp clothes clinging more to my body the closer we got to our destination. I could not tell if the chill running up my spine was from the rain, or from the anxiety I harbored over Monica’s well-being, but a prayer ran through my mind in case it was the latter. ‘
Fates, if you truly exist, do not permit this woman to die. Not like this. Not now.

“I wish I knew what the hell you were thinking,” I said aloud, “Fucking altruistic witch. First, you allowed yourself to be bitten on my account, and now you take a bloody stake to the chest. If I did not know better, I would think you suicidal.” Sighing to myself, I continued running. A plan, a plan… Damn it, I was going to need a plan when I arrived at the hospital. Would I pass her off to the first person I found? ‘
Yes, and how do you plan on expl
aining the stake, you daft seer?

Frowning at myself, I cycled through who I could trust and where I should hide, but time ran out before I could decide on a course of action. The lights of Broad Street rushed upon me, and with them, the signs pointing to the emergency room entrance. “Hold on a bit longer.” I glanced down at Monica and frowned. “I shall make certain you are tended to.”

My eyes lifted toward the sliding glass doors leading into the hospital. Throwing caution to the wind, I charged forward, not missing a beat even after the doors parted and granted me entrance. The triage nurse bolted to a stand when she saw me head directly for the area
past the waiting room
. Another
man – broad-shouldered and tall
– clamored to his feet as well from behind a
desk I did not recall
there before. He wore a navy blue uniform with a badge affixed to his chest.

Splendid. A security guard.

I paid no further mind to either. Kicking the door at the metal bar, I sent it flying
open
and continued
onward
. The security guard caught the door as it closed. Patients and doctors spun around to take in the sight of a pale stranger charging
through
with a bleeding girl. I caught the eye, though, of the one person I sought in all the chaos.

The heavy-set nurse took a double take and frowned when our eyes met. She stepped forward, though, and intercepted me just as the security guard closed within feet of us. I paused long enough to watch Chloe raise a hand and block him from proceeding any further. “I’ve got this one, Rufus,” she said.

His eyes flicked toward us and returned to her. “I expect to hear what the holy fuck this is all about afterward,” he said, his face contorting in a scowl. I turned my back on both. Heading for an empty room, I disappeared inside and set Monica down just as Chloe entered behind me.

The door shut with a click. “Christ on a cracker,” Chloe said. “What in God’s name happened to her?”

I turned to face my old friend, regarding her for the first time since my unfortunate
encounter
with a gang of unruly vampires. The skepticism in her eyes spoke volumes. “Chloe,” I said, indulging in a deep, steadying breath and shutting out her confused thoughts. “
I know you are aware now of what manner of being I am. And I would not fault you if seeing me again is troubling.
This girl shall die, though, if we do not help her.”
I turned my sights
to Monica, as though stating her condition aloud demanded I listen for her pulse before I could look to Chloe
once more
. Her frown deepened as I continued speaking. “I need this room and your help.”

She glanced at Monica again, bringing a hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened with epiphany. “Good Lord. Please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”

“A stake, yes, and obviously intended for me.” My gaze turned solemn; my tone of voice, plaintive. “More hinges on this girl’s survival than you can begin to know. Forget what I am for a moment and think of me as Peter, if just for her benefit.”

My words hung pregnant between us. Chloe’s eyes jumped between me and Monica before she finally si
ghed and nodded. “Okay, w
hat do you need from me?”

“Take her vitals. I am going to strip off this soaked jacket and wash my hands.”

“You’re going to scrub up for this?” Despite the tone of her question, Chloe began pulling items from a set of metal drawers while I dashed for the sink. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“If I do not, then who shall?” Working my arms through the sleeves of my suit coat, I shrugged it off and tossed it
to the side. I
t landed on a chair
and was soon forgotten, my fingers working swiftly to unbutton my sleeves and fold
the cuffs up to my elbows. W
arm water gushed from the tap when
I turned the faucet on. “It is my fault she is in this state. I should be the one to take responsibility.”

“T
he other night aside, you haven’t practiced medicine for over five years.” I ignored the weight of her
stare
as much as I could, reaching for the soap. When she refused to relent, I froze in place. “I’m going out on a limb here, but…” Her statement trailed off.

I sighed and pivoted to look at Chloe. She had ceased her flurry of activity. Setting the soap back down, I rinsed my hands and shook them dry after shutting off the water. Chloe’s unspoken thoughts completed the rest of her plea and caused my stomach to sink. My former co-worker, from the days when I wore a stethoscope instead of the compliment of blades I currently bore on my person, hesitated with her mouth open as though the protest would simply drop from her tongue. A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth. “But what?” I asked.

Her gaze shifted nervously away as she gathered whatever courage humans require for stating the absurd. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?” Her eyes found mine again. “I wondered when I first saw you because you nearly looked like a corpse, and you knew right away what happened to the woman you asked to see. But then, you dealt with those other guys and I saw…”

I cut her off, in part as a mercy to her. “Yes, I am a vampire, Chloe.”

Chloe swallowed hard.  “Are you sure you can trust yourself, then? Maybe I’m speaking out of ignorance, but isn’t it a bad idea to tempt a vampire with the sight of blood?”

Permitting myself a moment to linger on Chloe’s question, my eyes drifted to Monica again. There laid my watcher, frail and pale with crimson continuing to ebb from her wounds. For the first time in a while, I could not summon the gumption to assuage my own self-doubt. Once I pulled the stake out, nothing would hold back the deluge of blood, and I would have to fight my vampire instincts every step of the way. What if her lung had been punctured? Or an artery nicked or, even worse, damage done to her heart? How would I hold my composure when I could already feel my fangs
straining
to descend?

Chloe spoke up again, as though sensing the dilemma. “I’m going to give you another incentive to get out of here and leave this to somebody else.” She waited for me to look at her before continuing. “That guard I chased off your back was brought here because of you. You’re lucky nobody’s recognized you yet. Stick around here and somebody’s bound to put the pieces together.”

“Damn it.” My hand rose, fingers thrusting through my hair
and
gathering a fistful in my palm. I shut my eyes
, barely able to piece
thought
s together
after having the temptation to feed brought to the forefront of my mind.
I drew a deep breath inward, fighting myself for what my reaction should be.
“Fuck. Very well, alright.” I lowered my hand and opened my eyes to look at her again. Wor
ry had begun consuming her gaze.

BOOK: Rebirth of the Seer
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