Fate of the Seer: The Vampire Flynn - Book Three
Praise for THE VAMPIRE FLYNN
“The characters are vivid and realistic, and thank goodness no weak, whiney or defanged vampires in sight. These are real vampires – real hunters with a lust for blood and a lack of empathy for their food that I once enjoyed with Anne Rice.”
Author Ke-Yana Drake
TIME SPEAKER
“Flynn is not your typical vampire protagonist, by any means. He is ruthless, bloodthirsty, and rather sadistic in nature. In many other vampire books of today, Flynn would be considered the villain of the story, rather than the main character. But he’s not, and that’s what I love about this story. It’s refreshing – if not a little frightening – to see a vampire character actually act like a vampire.”
Jordan Butcher
THE INK PUDDLE
“The character development absolutely explodes into a fireworks display of nuance as Flynn begins to realize his calling and as a result is thrown headlong into conflict with vampires, other seers, sorcerers, and himself. Yes, himself. He’s schizo, remember? He’s getting better, but he’s still still got little shards of his own personality floating in the wreckage of self that his vampire maker left behind. And his struggle is intensely real.”
Reader Review
“Once again, This is my kind of vampire book. If you haven’t read it yet, pick up this series. The first book [Eyes] delved deep into the mind of a sociopathic killer, and we watched his struggle and rise from his murdering ways. [Rebirth] was more story focused. We still get to see Peter’s struggle but we also got to see more of the antagonists, from narrow minded sorcerers to bloodthirsty vampires. You learn more about Monica (Love Monica!) and meet quite a few new players. Mr. Dawes style is still very elegant. The continuation was well worth the wait.”
Reader Review
“Dawes lives in the real world, where a stake through the heart will do you in before you can say ‘ouch’. Vampires burn in the daylight, are reduced to piles of ash, need human blood to survive, and oh yeah, are KILLERS. They are Classic, and there is a reason such things are called Classics in the first place. All hail Bela Lugosi.”
Author Jessica Fortunato
THE SIN COLLECTOR
The Vampire Flynn Series
Eyes of the Seer
Rebirth of the Seer
Fate of the Seer
Short Stories by Peter Dawes
Featuring The Vampire Flynn
A Vampire’s Game
Nocturnal Embers, an anthology
Lost Highway
Red Phone Box, a story cycle
All Fall Down
Turn About Is Fair Play
More from Crimson Melodies…
crimsonmelodies.com
1st Edition Release May 2014
Fate of the Seer
by
Peter Dawes
CRIMSON MELODIES PUBLISHING
Digital Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, then please visit crimsonmelodies.com to find out where you can purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Crimson Melodies Ebook
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2008-2014 by Peter Dawes
Edited by J.R. Wesley
All rights reserved, including the right to
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Front Cover Design © 2014 by Crimson Melodies
Front Cover Illustration by Christine Griffin
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Accent Brush by Obsidian Dawn
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Part One: A Brother’s Commission
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Part Two: A Master Seer
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Part Three: Before the Fall
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Part Four: Venom and Treason
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Part Five: A Dance with the Devil
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Special Thanks
Find Us Online
Prologue
“How would you fancy a challenge, my killer?”
The wicked intonation to Sabrina’s words caused me to perk an eyebrow. Poised before a small table situated at the far end of a lavish, penthouse bedroom, she had her jewelry spread out in preparation for the evening to come. I had maintained a vigil, waiting for the reason why I had been summoned, while knowing better than to speak until she deigned to acknowledge my presence. Whether or not the pause encapsulated a moment or longer, it became a trial of patience, laden with expectation.
Such is why I never minded the gap of time between my entrance and her first words. Each second she took to apply her makeup – each blessed spritz of perfume or dust of powder – kept her in the position of authority, tying me up with her dominance and forcing me into submission. Every piece of clothing she put on was one I imagined stripping from her, while chiding my idle hands not to touch. With that first blissful comment, however, I felt a rush of tension escape me, rivaling any climax I had ever experienced.
“You ask me that as though I might refuse,” I said, leaning against the adjacent wall for support while I folded my arms across the tailored black linen of my suit jacket. The question bore delicious undertones, circling around like a fragrance designed to tempt me and me alone. I breathed it in and could not fight the slight, devilish curl of my lips, an expression mirrored by the redheaded vixen before me even while her eyes remained set upon her task. Lifting an earring, she affixed it to her lobe with practiced ease, an exaggerated sigh chasing away her smile by the faintest of margins.
“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t,” she said, ensuring the one piece of jewelry secure before moving onto its mate. “Personally, I wish I could join you instead attending yet another droll social gathering.”
“Where are you going?”
“Newark.” She breathed the city’s name draped in a sigh. “I was invited to a blasted New Year’s party with your brother, and he’s been kicking and screaming about attending. He’ll like it even less when I’m dragging him along to New York later in the month.”
My smile broadened. “He protests with any attempt to drag him from the coven house these days.”
“Yes, but he particularly fancies spending New Year’s
on his own. I’ve told him a year without one of his outings wouldn’t kill him.” She lined me in her periphery, her face lighting up. “Be a dear and help me with my necklace.”
“As my mistress wishes.” Pushing off the wall, I lowered my arms as I walked over to her, pausing behind where she sat. She lifted the gold chain up to her throat. I took hold of the ends and clasped the piece of jewelry into place, punctuating the action with a soft, lingering kiss on her skin.
Sabrina tilted her head, allowing me to touch my lips further up her neck. As she pushed against the back of her chair, I felt her shoulder press against my chest and nearly wanted to groan. “Your birthday approaches soon,” she said, knowing what her proximity had managed to provoke in me.
“I have not forgotten.” My fangs strained to descend. I straightened to a full stand again, but not before breathing her in one last time. “I suppose you are going to tell me to behave myself until then.”
“No, to get into the right form of mischief.” Sabrina pivoted in her chair to face me. One leg crossed over the other, hitching up the bottom of a ruby red dress as she rested her elbow on the back of her chair. Her hands folded properly, one on top of the other. “I want you to kill one of Matthew’s elders.”
I perked an eyebrow at the way she delivered the order – terse, but with the underpinnings of something much more duplicitous afoot. “An elder?” I asked, arms crossed again while I studied her eyes. That she was serious only intrigued me further. “Have the natives been restless under Master Pritchard’s roof?”
“You would think the man would’ve learned his lesson by now,” she said, “But it seems like he needs an additional reminder. Timothy informs me that his Greek mongrel, Demetrius, has been nosing around where he doesn’t belong and I need to know why.” Her smile faded, eyes taking on a dark, serious undertone. “I don’t want you to just remove this one, my assassin. I want you to question him. I don’t care what you have to do, just get him to spill something past those filthy lips of his.”
“What has he been doing, my mistress?”
Her facial expression tightened, a flash of hurt crossing her gaze. “I caught him fraternizing with Robin. Which isn’t anything new, sadly, but the timing is unorthodox and your brother won’t tell me anything.” She paused. “I smell something on the wind.”
“All the more reason to determine what it is, if you ask me.” I punctuated the comment with a nod. As our eyes met, my posture straightened. I saw the challenge leveled before me again, this time without words spoken. An unholy grin crept across my lips. “How much time do I have?” I asked.
“Three days,” Sabrina said.
“I shall have it done in two.” Bending an arm across my waist, I bowed, eyes never wavering from hers. “Happy New Year, my mistress.”
“I believe it might just be that.” A delighted curl of ruby lips served as my reward, as it had been most times I was given an assignment by my maker. We maintained eye contact until a faint knock at the door preceded Timothy entering her quarters.
“The car is ready, Mistress,” he said, offering me a casual glance.
I smirked in response while she lifted to a stand. “I will be eager to hear what that mutt tells you when I return,” she said, kissing my cheek on her way out the room. I nodded, lingering behind while musing on my first step. Setting out right away would be a bad idea. My brother, Robin, would ask too many questions and regardless of what might have transpired, I thought keeping him blissfully ignorant might be a small mercy.
That included the relish with which I looked forward to this particular kill.
A parting exchange between my brother and our maker still echoed from the tiled vestibule when I emerged from my room. Adjusting a pair of black, leather gloves, I carried more in the way of weaponry, the scabbard of my new katana hitting my leg while I bounded down the stairs and a set of throwing daggers pressing against my torso when I secured my coat shut. The other vampires residing in the coven house ignored my passing much the same as any other night, most of them already engaged in revelry as though midnight depended upon their state of sobriety. Within minutes, I had exited the front doors and disappeared down the alleyways of our troubled corner of the city.
Long walks and dalliances with the subway system had become old friends by then. I had traversed the path to Matthew’s neighborhood so many times the sidewalks should have carried the impression of two wing-tipped, size twelve shoes leading nearly to his doorstep. I smoked a cigarette up to the block before and tossed it away before using the fire escape of an adjacent building to climb up to its roof. The vantage point served its intended purpose. I had Master Pritchard’s front gates in view and settled in for a long wait ahead.
The hours ticked closer to midnight. One depleted cigarette after another sailed down to the alley behind the building while I mulled over my plan of attack. The only friendly face who would have been able to give me any idea as to Demetrius’s nocturnal habits had been dragged off to New Jersey. And as the human populace stumbled about from one bar to another, the repeated sound of “Auld Lang Syne” reminded me the information provided would not necessarily apply anyway. I let my eyes drift past the wrought iron protecting their property, through as much of the landscaped tree line as possible, but not a cursed soul entered or left the estate through the duration of my vigil.
“Survived another year, Demetrius,” I said, long after firecrackers and cheers issued in the first of January. “You shall not be so fortunate for long.”
A facetious challenge. That was what my retort to Sabrina had amounted to, and yet when I ventured out the following evening, I left just as darkness extinguished the final embers of sunset and took up residence on the same rooftop by the time most mortals were settling in for dinner. The air felt electric, and this time my patience was rewarded by the first strains of activity from the Pritchard estate. I did not recognize the first collection of vampires who left, but when a second departed shortly thereafter, I began to notice a troubling trend. Four vampires left with the first batch; five, with the second.
The third comprised of four immortals again. It also contained one in particular, who matched the description of my target.
I had never met Matthew’s children during my early weeks as a vampire, or been given any visual aids with which to recognize them prior to becoming an assassin. At the same time, his taste for the eclectic gave me a perfect record when it came to singling out his wards. Surrounded by two women of different nationalities and appearances – and joined by another gaudily-dressed male – the shorter man resembled all the hearsay I had ever heard spoken about him. His hair bore dark, wavy locks, and his style of dress boasted a pair of jeans and a black suit jacket with a silk shirt underneath. He might have been considered handsome by the right set of eyes, and certainly seemed to recognize this in the way he held himself.
Sharing a laugh with one of his immortal sisters, he also appeared none-the-wiser to the fact that he was being watched.
My unholy grin returned as I reached into my coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, I walked to the opposite edge of the roof and tracked their progress down the block, appreciative to whatever demons had blessed my endeavor when they passed beneath where I stood. I gave them enough chance to round the corner down the block before I quietly descended the stairs. Tossing my cigarette away, I adjusted my coat while giving casual pursuit.
Groups. I mused on that as I attempted to disappear against the urban landscape, slowing my stride to make my gait look less conspicuous. A couple strolling in front of me provided all the cover a tall vampire wearing sunglasses past sunset could hope to receive. At the same time, such proved ample enough camouflage to keep the quartet from glancing back at me. If Matthew had gotten wise enough not to allow his children out alone, this made Sabrina’s challenge all the more difficult. Unfortunately for them, it also made me all the more compelled.
I felt confident enough to allow my eyes to wander. Other
residences and small shops dotted the landscape, one townhome along the row advertising it was for sale while the rest looked at least casually occupied by city dwellers. We left the neighborhood, and turned onto a major road often traveled by tourists who liked to take in the night life while visiting Philadelphia. When the quartet paused at the front doors of a large nightclub, I stopped several establishments away and ducked into one of the narrower side streets, waiting for them to disappear inside.
They shuffled past a stocky human situated at the door with Demetrius bringing up the rear, tugged inside by one of his immortal sisters while resisting halfheartedly. Giving them a fair chance to get comfortable, I emerged shortly thereafter and made my way into the nightclub after enthralling the bodyguard to forget I existed. A throng of bodies waited for me on the other side, more than enough people despite the early hour to ensure I went undetected. Drifting to the far side of the bar counter, I slipped into one of the unoccupied stools.
“Patience, Flynn,” I said to myself, adjusting my coat as I sat to conceal the weapon by my side.
A simple drink order granted me solitude. The noise pulsating around us to made eavesdropping on the quartet impossible, but gave me time to observe them. They ordered their first round, and then a second, and by the third, I became bored enough with watching to consider myself bold. Rising from my stool, I took my drink with me and sat at one closer to their table, my back to them so the sight of my sunglasses did not cause them any question.
I could have ended the lot of them in one fell swoop. This much I knew, and the thought caused me a twinge of frustration while I listened to their idle banter. One woman worried that her style of dress had become antiquated as she surveyed the humans in the room. Her sister offered a hundred assurances while the men provided yawn-worthy commentary on the ladies’ devastating good looks. I found myself caught up in thought when Anthony mentioned locating a charm for the elder of a different coven, but when Demetrius spoke, the thrill of the hunt surged to prominence again.