Obsidian Flame (16 page)

She took a few more deep breaths until she calmed down.

She set her mug on the massive coffee table in front of her and fluffed her damp hair. Well, that was something positive she could focus on. She loved this cut. If she wore it loose, it clung to her neck and face in nice wisps. If she wanted to go clubbing, she could use a curling iron and create a nice sexy cloud of white. A heap of dark red lipstick and she was good to go.

But when the hell could she go clubbing? Especially since she’d looked up and down the lane of this colony and all she’d found were rustic cabins, a few nice houses, and a whole bunch of farms. Maybe this was some kind of ascended Amish colony. There were vegetable and flower gardens everywhere, and she could hear kids out there playing, yelling, crying, all of which supported her theory. A few dogs barked. This was mountain-based suburbia. It didn’t exactly lead her to the conclusion she could continue her forays into freedom here.

Unless there was a bar somewhere down the road.

A girl could only hope.

A knock on the door put her on her feet. Thorne wouldn’t have knocked—or death vampires, either, for that matter. Yeah, she was jumpy, even with all that mossy mist keeping the colony hidden. But the attack last night meant the lid was already blown off this little piece of Eden.

She moved to the window and looked out. To her left, she could see a group of men, big men not far from the cabin, all wielding swords and intent on something. But she couldn’t see what because—and wasn’t this just the best news ever—there were two women on her porch.

Shit. Two females. She wasn’t exactly “girlfriend” material in the platonic sense. And if they’d brought a plate of brownies, she might just scream.

She sighed and opened the front door. The lead woman wore jeans and had enough cleavage showing from a snug tube top to support a bunch of nicely folded “ones.” She had straight black hair just past her shoulders, some serious black eyeliner, and a spiderweb tattoo on her neck. Her right eyebrow was pierced with a thin silver loop and she had a second piercing, a small amber jewel, beside her left nostril. Her eyes were steely gray and damn, the woman was tall, maybe six-two. She leaned against the doorjamb and narrowed her eyes looking down at Marguerite. “Heard we had a new Seer in town.”

Well, wasn’t this a surprise. No brownies, just attitude.

But Marguerite was so not in the mood. “Screw you.” She slammed the door but was really surprised when she heard the women laugh and the other one say, “Told ya she wouldn’t like it, Brynna.”

Told ya?

Curiosity got the better of her and she reopened the door. “What the hell do you want?”

The woman next to Brynna, a shorter chick with red hair, said, “Neither of us could get a reading on you in the future streams—which can mean only one thing, a Seer of power. Brynna”—she jerked her thumb at the Amazon next to her—“just wanted you to know that we’re not your typical Seer outfit.”

Huh. Maybe she needed to rethink her “Amish” theory.

“Well, I guess you’d better come in and tell me what the hell is going on then.”

She headed back to the leather couch, picked up her cup of coffee, then curled up in the corner. She would offer them a cup as well, but she wasn’t in the mood to play hostess. She felt that same overwhelming need to get out of this colony … now.

Brynna crossed the room to straddle the rounded edge of a big leather club chair, but Red moved to the windows to watch the men just down the street.

Brynna said, “We hear Arthur and one of the Warriors of the Blood slaughtered some death vamps last night.”

“Yep. Eight of them.”

“We’ve never had them here before.”

“Never?” That was another surprise. She glanced at the window. In the distance, above the trees she could see the mossy mist. “You’ve got some interesting protection. I guess that’s kept them out.”

“You can see it then?”

“Can’t you?”

Brynna shrugged. “Yeah.”

Red called out, “But the rest of us can’t. Brynna’s the only one with power like Diallo, and Arthur, too, I guess.”

Marguerite shifted her gaze back to Brynna. “So you’re powerful?”

Brynna shrugged again, but her lips got a pinched look and she didn’t meet Marguerite’s gaze.

“Well what do you know,” Marguerite said. “You don’t like having all this power, either. I thought I was the only one.”

Brynna shook her head and now stared at the rag rug beneath the coffee table. “I … I hate it. I’ve felt like a goddamn spectacle most of my life and of course my parents,
my loving parents,
always pushed me forward making me perform. It really sucked.”

“So let me understand. Your Seer power is not your most potent gift?”

Red turned to face the room. “She can go invisible all the time. It’s really annoying.”

Marguerite looked at Brynna. “You mean like folding?”

But Brynna faded to nothing really slowly and said, “Not like folding at all.” She fell silent.

Marguerite could feel her move, though, almost like a ghostly presence. She sensed that Brynna’s hand was near her head so she reached up and caught it, trapping her wrist in a tight fist. She looked up into surprised gray eyes as Brynna made herself visible.

She nodded, but this time she actually smiled as she said, “Well fuck me, this time. No one has been able to do that, ever.”

Red faced her. “Not even Diallo.”

“Nope.” Brynna added, “I don’t know about Arthur. But he’s a little too young to mess with.”

Marguerite frowned. She knew she was powerful, but it sometimes surprised her just how different she was from most ascenders. She glanced at the mist again then back to Brynna. “How long have you two been here and where did you come from?”

Brynna had been in the colony a couple of hundred years.
That long?
Red, less, just forty years. And her name was Jane, come to find out.

“Do you miss Second Earth?” Marguerite asked.

“Sometimes,” Brynna said. She plucked at the buttons on the flannel shirt she wore loose around her tube top. “I miss the air. The air is different on Second. And of course I miss the gardens. We don’t have public gardens like Second does.”

“Why did you come here then? Why did you leave?”

At that, Brynna and Jane exchanged a glance.

Oh, shit. “Tell me.”

“We’re Seers Fortress refugees. Jane escaped from the Atlanta Two Fortress and I’d spent one day in the St. Louis Two Fortress but like I said that was two hundred years ago. Diallo found us on the run and brought us each here, far from our families—or at least it was far away at the time.”

Marguerite nodded. The whole Seer system was for shit. Any time an ascended child or the occasional young adult was discovered to have Seer ability, the families of the gifted would be persuaded through land grants and wealth to relinquish rights to the individual, always of course with the promise that the child would be given an excellent education, rich lodgings, and all that an ascended vampire could wish for on Second Earth. The families were also encouraged to consider the profound honor the child would have as a Seer in Second culture since most Seers assisted their territorial High Administrators. That the Creator’s Church sanctioned and encouraged children to be removed from their homes and placed in Seers Fortresses only added to the pressure families experienced to give up their gifted children.

Though the occasional High Administrator of a Seers Fortress was liberal-minded, kind, and followed through on the promises made to the families, for the most part abuse seemed to be the order of the day. Over the centuries, the Fortresses became locked-down facilities and the Seers subject to the kindness or villainy of whatever disposition the administrator possessed.

All in all, Seers’ rights had devolved to squat.

Marguerite had always thought it some strange kind of miracle that her parents had refused to ship her off to a Fortress when she was small since her Seer ability had been well-documented by the time she was eight. But then, her abusive parents had always preferred having control of her. They only sent her to the Creator’s Convent in hopes of having the devil beaten out of her after she’d gone wild at college.

And right now, if either Jane or Brynna was caught on Second Earth, they’d be sent to any of hundreds of Fortresses throughout the world. Only, with the new technology, they’d be strapped with ankle guards just as Marguerite had worn in both the Convent and the Superstition Seers Fortress. They’d never escape a second time.

“Okay, so just how old is this colony? And how is it no one knows about it on Second Earth?”

“Diallo said he worked for centuries to create this mist. He tested it and retested it until he was certain it was impenetrable by even the most powerful ascenders. So you can see why we’re shocked that you’re here today. Right now, the colony’s council is in an uproar. We left the meeting. Too many men, and a few women, yelling but doing nothing. Same old, same old. Anyway, he created the colony in 909
BC
.”

“Holy shit.” Marguerite frowned then apologized. “Okay, sorry for the profanity. I’m not exactly house-trained.”

Brynna smiled. “What the fuck are you apologizing for? We’re Seers, not saints.”

Jane laughed but then sighed with some gusto as she continued to stare out the window. “That’s some pair of shoulders. Wow. I mean I knew that some of the Militia Warriors from Florida had folded in for some training, but
damn.
” Her tongue made an appearance and she swiped her lower lip. “I’d like to lick the sweat off that.”

Marguerite had seen the men outside with swords. They were grouped in an arc maybe watching some kind of demonstration. The lattice arch and angle of the building hadn’t allowed her to see what kind of man-candy was showing his stuff or apparently his shoulders.

Jane was now fanning her face, her nostrils flaring with genuine female interest. So at least one of the Seers wasn’t shy about expressing her overall interest in the male species. It might be fun to check out the local talent with a couple of girlfriends.

Of course, guilt about Thorne roared once more and she winced. Which of course pissed her off all over again. With her back up, she had a couple of questions she’d like answered. “So what do you do for entertainment around here? Or do you slip over to Seattle One? Down to Portland One maybe? Hit some clubs?” Maybe if she could get things settled with Thorne, she’d follow these Seers to their favorite hunting grounds.

But neither spoke up to answer her question. Instead, she felt a sudden tension in the room. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t get out much? I mean Mortal Earth has some damn hunky specimens.”

Brynna shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

Marguerite had a feeling exactly where this was headed. As for complicated, no it wasn’t. “Let me guess. Because you’re Seers, and maybe because you’re women, too, you aren’t allowed beyond the boundaries of the mist.”

Brynna narrowed her eyes. “Not sure about the ‘women’ part, but the Seer part is right. We get the reasoning. We’re wanted, as in
wanted,
as in if we’re discovered by other rogue ascenders unattached to our colony, then we could get reported, and the whole setup could get blown.”

Marguerite sipped her coffee, but it had cooled off and she preferred hers scalding. She set the mug on the table at her elbow. Her temper, on the other hand, was starting to fire up just fine. “This is such bullshit. For half a second there I’d almost started to like this place. Now you’re telling me you don’t have the same rights as regular vampires?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“There’s not a one of us here who isn’t grateful for this refuge. We all live as we choose and to a certain degree we respect this law. We know what waits for us beyond the protective mist: potential informants, death vampires, or, worse, Greaves. Our choices are a bit limited.” Brynna then lifted her brows in a really in-your-face kind of way. “But if you think it’s unjust, what do you intend to do about it? You’ve got power, unlike most of us who are only moderately blessed with Seer vision.”

“I’m not going to do anything. When did that become my job?”

“Then what exactly are you complaining about? See, it’s really easy for you to sit there and judge, but are you going to stick around, get involved, challenge the status quo? No, of course not.”

Marguerite clamped her arms over her chest. “Oh, whatever.” She knew she sounded childish but she did not like the direction of the discussion.

“Brynna,” Jane called out. “Stop busting our visitor’s chops and come look at this hunk. He kind of reminds me of that guy you bonked at the club in the colony outside Portland One, the one who stripped at Jake’s Fangtap. But this one’s taller and bigger, uh,
everywhere.
The last time he spun and levitated, his kilt flew up. I got a good look and can I say, again, wow.” She followed up this statement with, “I need me a man.”

“Maybe it’s Warrior Thorne.”

“Just git your ass over here. You, too, Marguerite. We heard you’d come in with Warrior Thorne. You can tell us if this is him, because if it’s not, and it’s one of the Florida Militia, I’m all over it. By the way, are you together
together
?”