The Devil's Fool (Devil Series Book One) (31 page)

Charlie began to walk backward toward the door. “Bring the laptop up. I’ll have some time in about an hour.”

As soon as Charlie disappeared, Michael said, “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, but you must know we won’t hurt you or anyone here.”

“How did you come to know of the Deific?” I asked—or rather, more like demanded.

“Henry invited me, and I said yes.”

“Why?”

He looked past me. “I was a good person when I was a human, thanks to a great family who taught me strong morals and a respect for life. When I was turned into a vampire over a hundred years ago, I hated myself. I didn’t know how to control the insatiable hunger, but I didn’t want to hurt humans, either. I became a raving lunatic, shouting things on the streets, behaving irrationally. My mind fought my body and it caused me to go mad. Luckily, Henry found me and helped me through it. I owe him my life.”

“And what about you?” I asked Alana.

“I’m here for him.” She motioned her head toward Michael.

“Your turn, Eve. How do you know about the Deific?” he asked.

“Like you, I was found. By Charlie, though. He helped me.”

“But why you?” Alana asked.

I touched my light hair, thinking how different I probably looked from my former self. They may not know me, but every supernatural I had ever encountered had at least had heard of my parents. “I am the daughter of Erik and Sable Segur.”

They looked at each other and appeared to be communicating silently.

Alana turned to me. “We heard she died.”

I smiled, arms outstretched. “Standing right here.”

“That explains a lot,” Michael said. “But you are the last person I thought would ever come here.”

“You hung around a rough crowd,” Alana said.

“A lot has changed. I’ve changed.”

“Then welcome to the Deific,” Michael said. “You will be a useful ally.”

“I hope you’re ready,” Alana said in a mocking tone.

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to fight the evil you once so lovingly embraced.”

Michael turned abruptly to Alana. “Have you so easily forgotten your own sinister past?”

Alana glared.

“It’s fine,” I said. “She’s right. I need to be ready, and I’m working hard to make sure my past stays where it belongs.”

“Just like the rest of us, right, Alana?” he asked.

Alana forced a smile. “Of course.”

***

I didn’t stick around to chat with Alana and Michael. Their motives seemed innocent enough, but I still couldn’t accept that vampires would choose a life inside the Deific trying to stop evil. Ignore it, sure, but actually try to stop it? Accepting Henry as both a vampire and the founder of the Deific was hard enough, but … 

I shook my head and leaned against the elevator.

What was wrong with me? Lucien had stopped me from using my abilities against others not once, but twice. Clearly vampires could be good. My head ached at all these new thoughts. Along with my world, my whole mindset was changing. Lines were no longer clear but blurred. How would I know whom to trust?

I waited in my apartment until an hour had passed. When I returned, Charlie was in his office on a telephone call. He motioned me inside and indicated that I should sit down. I sat in my usual chair and placed the black briefcase on my lap.

Charlie said goodbye to whomever he was speaking with then hung up the phone. “So tell me about what you found.”

I withdrew the photocopy of Lucien from my pocket and unfolded it. “This is him,” I said, handing it over. “The vampire who saved me. The one I visit in my dreams.”

“You said visit?” Charlie asked and took the photo from me.

“A few times now. I go to sleep and wake where he is.”

He studied the photo and frowned. “How strange that it would be him out of all others.”

“Why?”

He looked up. “Out of all the supernatural beings in our world, he’s remained a mystery. We’ve sent in multiple people, even vampires, to try and find something about him, but he refuses to speak with anyone. We watched him for a long time to determine if he was a threat, but he did very little. It’s as if he’s stuck in a private bubble unaware of the rest of the world.”

“So he’s not dangerous?”

“Not in the sense you mean. We have no record of him deliberately harming others, but he has fought every single person we sent in, one he almost killed. It’s as if he will not allow himself to be freed from whatever inner torment he’s putting himself through.”

I considered this. “Do you think that’s why I’m drawn to him?”

Charlie shrugged. “Could be. Maybe you’ve had similar life experiences.”

“It’s more than that. I feel at peace when I’m with him. It’s almost as if—” I tried to find the words, tried to understand. He was like my Eden. His presence was as calming and soothing as the warm sandy beaches and the gentle rolling waves.

When I didn’t finish the sentence, Charlie asked, “Didn’t you say you felt a connection with Boaz, too?”

I flinched at the sound of his name. “Yes, but it was the complete opposite. That connection was a violent one obsessed only with power. With him, I was in a constant state of hate and anger. I craved the power as if it were a drug.”

“Interesting. Everything has its opposite including people. Maybe you found Boaz’s.”

“Charlie,” I began, nervous to reveal the real motive behind my visit. “I was wondering if you could use your gift, maybe find out something about him?”

He shook his head. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? We want to know about him as much as you do. We’ve had many psychics try to read him, but somehow he has blocked us.”

“So if you can’t see anything about him, what about me? Could you try to see my future? See what would happen if I try to meet him?”

Charlie looked doubtful. “A person should not know their future. I only use my gift if absolutely necessary.”

“Isn’t this necessary? You want to find out something about him, and I know I’m going to meet him eventually. I don’t want to know all of my future, just a year or so ahead and just my future with Lucien, if there is to be one.”

Charlie’s lips twisted, and he looked away.

“Please, Charlie. We’ll both get what we want.”

He narrowed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. Give me your hands.”

I placed my palms in Charlie’s. He held them and looked into my eyes before he closed his own tightly. The deep wrinkles in his forehead gathered together in concentration, and soon his eyes began to move back and forth behind his eyelids.

Several minutes passed. His expression changed many times from anger to sadness and even an occasional smile broke on his face. Finally, he dropped my hands and opened his eyes, which were glistening with tears. I waited patiently for him to speak. He leaned back in his chair.

After a moment, he spoke. “Four years ago I married the most amazing woman I had ever met.”

"Moira," I said.

He nodded. “She was my match in every way, and I was never happier than when I was with her. But together we experienced more pain and sorrow than any couple should have to endure. A lot of lives were ruined because of our union. I used to wonder if it was worth it.” He looked up at me. “But I never wonder now. It was worth it, and I would do it all over again if given the chance.”

“Then you think I should see him?” I said, hopeful.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. The pain and misery I just witnessed was ten times greater than anything I had to endure. If you meet Lucien, he will try to kill you, and he will break your heart. The path this choice will put you on will nearly destroy you and those close to you. Lives will be lost.”

My heart sank, and I lowered my gaze.

“But,” Charlie said, taking my hands again, “the love between you two is remarkable. It’s pure, kind, and unselfish. I’ve never seen anything like it. You will experience happiness with him that will make you extremely powerful. Together you will do a lot of good and save a lot of lives.”

“So what do I do?”

“Only you can decide that.”

I sighed. “I was hoping this would be easy.”

Charlie smiled. “It’s not meant to be easy. True happiness and pure, unselfish love is only meant for those who are willing to sacrifice all that they have for it. You will taste bitterness before you taste joy.”

Charlie had been gone for ten days. I’d been looking forward to his return ever since he told me he would teach me how to fight. It was exciting to think I could use something other than magic to defend myself, and I was glad when Dr. Skinner had agreed.

“It’s important you know how to fight,” he told me a few days ago. “Magic should only be used as a last resort.”

I looked forward to my meetings with Dr. Skinner. During our last few, I’d begun to use my abilities again, starting with small things like moving objects. He taught me how to use my experiences at the Academy to call upon my abilities. It was hard to choose just one as I had so many.

The process of using this new kind of magic worked just like he said it would. Instead of beginning in my toes, however, the power was first felt in my chest; a warming sensation that spread to the rest of my body. The room became brighter, images sharper, smells sweeter—the exact opposite of dark magic. What I was experiencing, Dr. Skinner had explained, was the magic of beauty.

It was during this time I decided to tell him about Lucien and what Charlie had told me about my future. He was concerned, but not so much for me. His concern was for Lucien.

“I don’t care who or what you are,” he said. “One should not live like that. Based on the feelings you have when you’re around him, I’d say you were meant for each other.”

My heart leapt unexpectedly.

“But that doesn’t mean you should be together,” he added quickly. “Lucien can only be saved if he chooses to be. Just because you feel a connection doesn’t mean he will too. You must proceed with caution. That means no more visiting him in whatever dream-like trance you’re putting yourself in.”

I began to protest, but Dr. Skinner raised his hand. “At least until you make a decision. You need to choose freely without any distractions.”

I agreed, but that was three days ago and now, as I sat on the gray couch in my apartment, flipping through mindless TV channels, I thought of Lucien and wondered what he was doing.

I’d gone back to see Lucien a few times while Charlie was gone. Lucien never did much. He was always looking into the distance, but I was never sure at what. And during all this time, he’d only fed twice, and each time he seemed to know his victim.

On my last visit, I’d followed him while he dragged a dead body to an alleyway where he opened a rusted manhole and dropped the body inside. Afterwards, he’d leaned against a brick wall of a warehouse doubled over in pain. His suffering had been difficult to watch.

I glanced down at the time on my cell phone. Almost ten o’clock. Charlie was returning today, but he wouldn’t be back at the Deific until noon. I had enough time.

Sleep came easily. I materialized in a dark, run-down bar that reeked of grease and beer. A few people sat separate from each other, heads down while they held theirs drinks protectively. No one spoke, each of them too wrapped up in their own problems to care about anyone else’s.

I couldn’t see Lucien anywhere, but knew he had to be close. When the door to the bar opened, letting in a blast of cold air, I stepped through it before it closed. The sun’s morning light was just beginning to touch the sky, pushing back much of night’s darkness. I loved this time of day. It was a reminder that no matter how bleak my work seemed, dawn would always come.

Ignoring the people around me, I stood on a sidewalk in front of a long row of buildings. Across a street that was just beginning to get crowded with morning commuters was a children’s hospital. I looked around, eventually spotting Lucien not far from its entrance. I moved to be near him, the feeling of peace and serenity growing with each step, but was momentarily distracted by a mother and small boy walking out of the hospital. The boy was shouting and fighting against his mother who held him tightly, but her soothing words did nothing to calm him. He must’ve kicked her hard, because suddenly she dropped him, and he bolted into the street and in front of an oncoming car. An instant before the car smashed into the boy, Lucien appeared, shoving him out of the way. Instead, the car crashed into Lucien, and he flipped up and over the hood, his body shattering the windshield.

The mother rushed to her son, who was crying even louder now, while I bolted for Lucien. I rounded the car to the driver’s side, but when I got there, Lucien was gone. The driver opened his door, and he, too, glanced around for the man he knew he had hit.

I looked up and down the streets. There were several alleys—one in particular drew my attention. It was about one block up and partially concealed by a shipping truck. I jogged over to it.

As I suspected, I found Lucien sitting on a wooden crate with his jacket off. His torn sleeve was pulled up around his bicep and very carefully he was removing shards of glass from his bloodied arm. His wounds healed almost immediately.

I stood in front of him, wishing he knew that I was there and had witnessed what he’d done.

One last large piece of glass protruded from his forearm. He moved to take it out, but his hand stopped and hesitated above it. Instead of removing it, he suddenly slammed his fist on top forcing it deeper into his arm. He threw his head back in pain, but did not cry out. His eyebrows tightened and his jaw muscles bulged.

I stared in horror. I had no idea his self-torture went as far as this. My gaze lowered to the embedded glass in his arm, and I concentrated hard. Using my feelings toward him to invoke magic, I imagined the shard of glass sliding out of his arm. Lucien jumped when he felt it begin to move. I concentrated harder. The glass broke free from his flesh, and I mentally tossed it to the ground.

Lucien glanced around, his expression a mixture of anger and surprise. I was glad. I wanted him to know that someone was watching over him. Hopefully this would make him think twice before he decided to hurt himself again.