Authors: Hazel Hunter
“Nicolette, I would never. I would never, ever hurt you, I…”
“Then let me go,” she challenged him. “Show me that you're better than Vacek and that you will let me go.”
He stood as still as a statue. Nicolette slowly let out the breath that she hadn't been aware that she was holding. She took a step back, and then another one.
“Nicolette…”
She waited, but there was nothing else. She turned and walked away.
She could feel his eyes on her as she crossed the field, but there were no footsteps and there were no hands grabbing at her.
The air rustled, and with a flutter of wings, Karas landed on her shoulder. He plucked at her hair gently, and she reached up to calm him.
Tomorrow had come, and it was time to get back to her real life.
THE SUN WAS coming up. It was going to be another beautiful summer day, but Sebastian couldn't feel it. He wasn't sure that he was going to feel anything again, though surely that was wrong. In the space of twenty minutes, he had suffered…what? A loss? He had fought a Templar and lost someone that made him feel whole inside. He ran his hands through his thick black hair, wondering when it had all gone wrong. The day he had spent with Nicolette felt more real to him than this did. In some ways, it felt more real to him than the long years before her had.
He took a deep breath and stood up, pacing back and forth along the length of the wall.
In many ways, nothing had changed. She was still a rogue witch. Now he knew that she was a rogue witch with a very rare power. Aura readers could detect the truth in charged situations. They could learn from an enemy and put it to good use. It didn't surprise him that she had been placed with an individual tutor rather than a coven, but what came up when he recalled her situation was a cold and icy rage. He pulled out his phone, and it only rang once before it was picked up.
“Stephan, I need some information.”
“What do you need, Sebastian? Can't be sleep because my watch tells me its not even seven out there where you are.”
Sebastian ignored Stephan's jibe.
“Do we have any information on a warlock named Vacek? Especially one who's trained witches or warlocks in the past few years.”
Stephan's response was quick and foreboding.
“Oh that asshole. What do you need to know?”
“It sounds like he trained the rogue that I'm after. We had a talk, and he's the reason she's resistant to being brought in.”
“Don't blame her. Looks like this guy was operating out in the Pacific Northwest, member in good standing, and all that. He's trained up some people who went on to do just fine, but about a year ago, a witch separated from him, went rogue, joined a coven in Alabama, and then started telling people about the shit that he did.”
“What did he do?”
“From the sound of it, beat the hell out of her and did it all in the name of 'real training.' Some people came out and said that that was bullshit, he'd never laid a hand on them, but when all of the people saying that were warlocks, not witches, well…”
Sebastian gritted his teeth. He had to force his hands to relax out of fists. When he spoke again, it was with a carefully modulated tone.
“And what happened to Vacek?”
This time, Stephan's laugh was a lot more genuine.
“Died not long after this all came up. Throat slit. Believe me when I say that there were not a lot of mourners, you know?”
Sebastian felt himself relax by inches.
“Good,” he said. “Now tell me what we have on known Templars in the area.”
“You know, I know things are getting strange when you want to ask about an abusive asshole who's been gone for a while before you ask me about Templars. I was looking over the intel just last night actually, and from what I can tell, nothing. That area should be clean. Are you telling me its not?”
“Hmm. I've got to go.”
“Oh hell, don't do that to me, I have to–”
Sebastian ended the call and turned off the phone. Technically, it was fine because he and Stephan shared equal rank. In reality, it was completely inappropriate because Stephan acted as the eyes and ears for most of the Corps members in the field. Rendering him blind was generally a pretty poor idea. However, if he had mentioned a Templar in the area, that would mean that the Commandant would likely insist on sending another Corps member in as well. Another Corps member meant that Nicolette might get more spooked than she already was. And it might mean that he would have to share the hunt for the Templar with someone else. Sebastian remembered Nicolette's terrified face when the man had attacked them. This kill was going to be his.
The sun was coming up, and Sebastian started folding the blankets that they had slept on. He needed food, and then he needed to hunt. When the threat was taken care of, he could return to Nicolette. He could speak to her. He could explain that the man who had hurt her had been dealt with.
He could bring her in, and perhaps she would let him keep her close.
NICOLETTE WAS PAYING for her night in the fields with a sore body and with eyes that felt as if she had poured sand in them. She focused on the physical discomforts because if she focused on the emotional ones, she would be a wreck.
In her stuffy, dark tent with Karas croaking menacingly from his perch, she read fortunes. The carnival was getting off to an early start, and the crowd was far better than she had any right to expect. She kept her skill turned down, but she knew that there was something strange about it. Even when she wasn't looking for the auras that she knew swirled around every person, she could see faint glimmers of color here and there. It made her think of Vacek, and how he had told her that close proximity to other Wiccans could enhance her powers. Except that during her time with Vacek, her ability to read auras had felt muted and dull. She had thought the man was simply lying or mistaken, but after her night with Sebastian, she couldn't be sure it was all wrong.
She wondered what would happen if she spent more time with Sebastian, what she would sense then. The thought of it brought a blush to her cheeks, and she focused instead on her work. As if aware of her mood, Karas came to rest on her shoulder, glaring at the people who came in with a truly theatrical flare.
The customers for the day were unexceptional, and she had done her Madame Nicole act so often it was like a second skin. She told fortunes, hinted at great potential, uttered a few warnings to the people who seemed particularly unimpressed. She was looking forward to grabbing food behind the tents, when an old woman came in.
She wore a hat and gloves like something out of an old film, and there was such a sense of peace around her that Nicolette had to look twice. The woman was prim and slightly stooped, and she was far from the normal person who came in looking for their fortunes.
“Greetings, beautiful lady,” Nicolette murmured. “What are you seeking today, hmm?”
The woman smiled, and there was something wistful about it. She put her money on the table, and for a long moment, it looked as if she were gathering her thoughts and trying to figure out what she wanted to hear.
“What do you know of the other world?”
“The…other world? The realm of the spirits, do you mean?”
The older woman nodded. The hand that she rested on the table between them clenched into a fist.
“It's not right, and it's not proper,” the woman said, “but oh, I know that your circus is going to be here today and gone tomorrow. I thought what's the harm if I ask if you know something about what happens when…”
“What happens after we die?”
The old woman nodded, and though it was clear that she was grieved, there was still that strange and pervasive feeling of peace that she brought with her. Nicolette had felt it a few times in her life. She had always associated it with people who were fulfilled, who had known something perfect in their souls and their spirits.
“It is not appropriate for us to know what comes after,” said Nicolette, who had been in this position before. “The veil is dropped after we die, and what comes after that is not for mortals to know.”
“But surely there is something?”
Nicolette smiled.
“There is something. You are looking for a man? Someone who was very close to you?”
The woman nodded, and there was a faint glimmer of tears in her eyes. It wasn't a hard guess, and Nicolette might have felt worse about simply guessing at someone else's tragedy if she didn't see real comfort there.
“He was here for quite some time,” Nicolette ventured. “But he left too soon, didn't he?”
The woman nodded again, and this time, the wetness around her eyes was real.
“He should have been allowed to stay longer,” the woman said, her voice thick with dismay and sorrow, but despite that, there was still the sense of peace.
“What do you need to know?” Nicolette asked gently. “He was a good man, and a kind man, though he was not always clever at showing it.”
“Yes, yes that was him,” the woman nodded.
It wasn't hard to piece together the kind of person this woman would have loved. Nicolette thought she knew what the woman needed.
“I can feel him hovering over us now,” she said softly. “He agrees that he was taken away too soon. He understands that you miss him, but oh he feels so much love for you. He loves you, and he is at peace. You must understand this. He is at peace, and he is waiting.”
“For me?”
“For you. He knows that you will be together again. He is at peace, and he wants you to know that same comfort.”
The woman was crying openly now, but she nodded.
“Thank you,” she said when she had calmed slightly. “That was what I needed to hear. Thank you. I only hope he knows how much I love him.”
“He does, I promise you that,” Nicolette said, and it was far from a lie.
This was not a woman who hid things, and the love that she felt shone from her face like a beacon. Impulsively, Nicolette reached across the table to squeeze the older woman's hand, and when she did so, a bit of that peace warmed her as well. The woman smiled through her tears.
“Thank you. My pastor and my family have been telling me for the last few years that it is time to move on, and I think, now, I might actually be ready to do so.”
As she turned to go, Nicolette gave in to temptation, and peeked at the woman's aura. It was a beautiful gold, though there was some tarnish to it. It made sense given the woman's mourning. Nicolette would have thought no more of it if she hadn't received a surge of images flashing in her mind.
She could see a young woman in a red dress, dancing cheek to cheek with a young man in a suit that was too large for him. The woman was lovely, but the man was as lanky as a rail fence and had ears that stuck out like jug handles. No one would have called him handsome, but when he swung his beautiful partner around, the love on his face would have made a stone weep. She knew that this man had been dead for years, but Nicolette knew to the core of her being that if she could see his aura, it would have been the same gold as that of his dance partner.
Nicolette realized that she was shaking, and Karas landed on the table in front of her, cawing curiously. She shook her head.
Vacek had mentioned that there were some aura readers who could see even deeper, who could see what was inside the minds of others, but she hadn't thought she had that ability.
Before Sebastian had come, Nicolette knew her powers. She knew what she could do. She knew when someone was cheating at cards. She knew when someone was in love or out of it. She knew that using her powers too often could lead to a terrible headache that could last for hours. This was new and, for the first time in years, Nicolette was terrified about what she didn't know.
The next customer came in, and Nicolette had to be Madame Nicole once again.
She had never read her own aura, but she knew what it would look like. It would be a confusion of colors, spinning too quickly and completely muddled.
IT WAS ALMOST 2 a.m. by the time Sebastian made it back to his apartment in the city. The day's hunt had proved frustratingly vague. Though there were people who had seen the Templar he was chasing, no one could tell him where the man hunted or where he denned. Every lead had turned into a dead end, and it was everything that Sebastian could do to avoid starting some serious fights. More than once, the Commandant had stated that Sebastian's gift was not clever talk or diplomacy. Instead he was like an arrow that once loosed could not be changed or altered. He would fly swift and true, and when he struck he did it with pure force.
The apartment they had assigned him for this mission was a beautiful brownstone on a quiet block. It was a safe house for any Corps members passing through Boston and far better than some of the options he had had in the past. Stephan or someone like him had given it every protection that was possible against Templars while making it welcoming to all Wiccans. So when he opened the door, he had known that he would be alone.
Then he heard a gentle caw, and his heart warred with his mind. It couldn't be here, but he already knew that sound. He flipped on the light in the kitchen, and sitting at the table as if she belonged there—and in his life—was Nicolette. She was curled up in the chair, and her braid dangled over her shoulder. Dressed in dark jeans and a black T-shirt, her feet bare, she looked achingly young. It was only the closed look on her face and the tight set to her shoulders that told him he was dealing with a young witch approaching her prime.
Karas perched on the back of her chair. It would have been a foreboding picture if the bird hadn't croaked happily to see Sebastian and swept across the air between them to Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian started, but grinned when the bird lightly nibbled at his lobe.