Sebastian (11 page)

Karas interrupted her dark thoughts by landing on her head, and when she did not immediately respond, he pecked her lightly. With a wan smile, she reached up a hand and allowed her pet to perch on her wrist. He cawed affectionately, and then he made a big show of twisting his head back and forth, as if he were looking for Sebastian.

“Don't you start,” she sighed

But she didn't even have the heart to be amused by her pet's cleverness. Sometimes, she wondered at Karas's interest in staying close to her when he had the entire world to wander. But more often, she was simply grateful for his company and his seemingly unswerving loyalty.

She crossed the fairgrounds back to her tent. There would be no customers there, but she could at least get things packed up for the move tomorrow. Being part of a traveling circus suited her, and she liked her place just fine. There was just that aching sense of restlessness tugging at her mind and her heart. Nicolette was just getting to her tent when suddenly Karas exploded into motion. With frantic croaking cries, he lifted from her wrist and flew around her head, shrieking loudly enough that he threatened to deafen her.

Nicolette squawked in surprise, and she held up a hand to fend her pet off.
 

“
What has gotten into you?
” she yelped.

She ducked into her tent to get away from his panicked flutterings. The darkness inside was a contrast from the brightness of the day, but she could immediately tell that she wasn't alone. Nicolette's instincts were sharp, and she didn't stop to question what was going on or what was happening. Instead, she whirled and tried to run back out the door, but a thick hand wrapped around her waist and held her still. She opened her mouth to shout, but a foul-smelling cloth clamped over her face. She thought of the defense moves that Sebastian had taught her just the previous day. Then she caught a glimpse of the man's aura as the world swirled closed. The last vision that she took down with her into darkness was one of ugly white shot through with diseased gray.

SEBASTIAN TRAVELED WITH very little when he was on the hunt. He carried knives like most of the Corps, but typically he kept a few sets of dark clothes, his wallet and a pair of boots in the trunk of his car. The rest would be provided for in the safe houses that he used, or he could do without.
 

The morning wore on, and he took a call from Stephan, who sent him the coordinates of his debriefing and the information on his next posting.

“How's it looking?” he asked by rote, and Stephan sighed.

“Hard to say. We'll know more when you get out there and tell us.”

“Ah.” Sebastian made a face and was about to hang up, but Stephan stopped him.

“What happened out there?”
 

“Looking for gossip?”

Stephan's laugh was dry. “Hardly. Let's put it this way. Out of all of the Corps officers that I coordinate, you're more or less the dream. You respond when you say you will, you don't fall off of the map. You get the job done and then you're up for the next one.”

“But?”

“But yesterday it was like trying to page a brick wall. What happened out there? I can ask as your friend now, or you can get to your debriefing and answer to me when I'm wearing my uniform.”
 

Sebastian grit his teeth, but the worst part was that he knew that Stephan was right.

“I'm waiting for the debriefing,” Sebastian said shortly. “Deal's done out here. Mission's over. That's it.”

“Don't believe you, but do what you got to do, man.”

Sebastian hung up on Stephan, shaking his head. He wanted to get out of Boston. He knew that in the future, this city would be a closed book for him. He wouldn't be able to look at it without thinking of her. But if he couldn't look at her and touch her, he didn't know if he could bear it.
 

Sebastian carried his bag to the car, and he paused for another moment, wondering why he was putting it off. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, and he was going to be on the road for almost eight hours. Still he waited, though he could not have said what he was waiting for. He stretched his consciousness through the earth, feeling the footfalls of the people passing by. Their hurried steps calmed him, made him open up his mind to the lives that passed next to his.
 

When he looked up into the bright blue sky, he almost wasn't surprised to see a dark speck circling down towards him. Karas's cries were hoarse and panicked. He quickly offered the bird his wrist. The African crow was unhurt, but all of his feathers were puffed out, and the noise he made, unnervingly similar to that of a crying baby, raised the hairs on the back of Sebastian's neck. He knew immediately that there was something wrong with Nicolette. Familiars reflected the mood of their witch or warlock, and this level of agitation in an animal was something serious.

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, and then he flicked his wrist, tossing Karas into the air. The bird flapped to right himself, and Sebastian climbed into his car. For a moment, he wasn't sure that the crow would understand what he wanted, but in just a few seconds, the crow took off, heading west, towards the edge of the city. Sebastian drove as fast as he could, his fears about the Templar who had eluded him bright and strong in his mind. It would take a fairly powerful Templar to stay out of his way even for twenty-four hours. Now it seemed that his worst fears had come true.

“Please, please be safe,” he whispered.

He could only pray that Nicolette would be able to hold out until he got there.

NICOLETTE'S HEAD SPUN, and when she opened her eyes, she felt as if she was swimming up through layers and layers of cotton. Her first feeling was confusion. She remembered being outside of her tent. She had wanted to go pack things up before the circus moved on tomorrow. But this wasn’t her tent or the circus. Only when she tried to move did she realize she was bound, hands and feet. Suddenly she remembered being attacked and tensed with fear.

“She awakes,” said a male voice. “How unlucky for her.”

Nicolette tried to turn her head to see who was speaking, but she couldn't. Though she heard the crackling of a small campfire, it was so dark at first that she thought it was night. But as her eyes adjusted to the shadows, she finally realized that she was inside a cave. She knew that there were a system of caves close to the outskirts of Boston. Is that where she was? A tremor of terror worked its way up her back. If she had no idea where she was, no one else would either.

“Who are you?” she called out, her voice tinny and echoing. “I know you're back there.”

The man's chuckle was wet and ugly. His hulking form was barely visible.

“The little witch wants to know who I am. Foolish thing. Does a deer ask the name of the knife that's about to gut it?”
 

 
“I'm not a witch,” Nicolette tried. “I'm just a fortuneteller with the circus. It’s just games. You know, cards and crystal balls–”

The big man moved quickly and landed a solid foot in her midriff. Nicolette yelped involuntarily. The pain was short and sharp, spreading outward. She sucked in a sharp breath but found that, in a strange way, the pain focused her. It cut through the thick terror, and her mind cleared a little.
 

“The little witch is a liar. It is terrible that she should be so damned and yet also a liar. It is oddly upsetting.”
 

“You're a Templar Knight,” she said softly. “You want to kill me.”

The man laughed unpleasantly.

“I
am
going to kill you,” he said, and the tone in his voice was sickeningly precise. “You are an abomination that must be purged from the earth. I am the will and the sword and the might that will do so.”

“You don't have to do this,” Nicolette said.

In answer, he kicked her again, harder this time. A loud grunt was forced from her lungs, followed quickly by a wave of nausea washing over her. A sudden fatigue overwhelmed her as consciousness flickered. For a strange, disjointed moment, she imagined she’d have an immense bruise later. But with a jolt of realization, she knew there might not be a later.
 

Focus,
she thought.
 

Even if she was looking at her last moments on Earth, she didn't want them to be spent panicking. It wouldn’t do any good to deny what she was.

“I'm not just a witch,” she said desperately. “I'm a person. I had parents. I…I want to do things with my life. I'm in love.”

The last slipped out seemingly from nowhere, but it made the man pause.

“Love,” he said, the words dripping with malice. “With the Corps major who was in Boston.”

Something about the way he said it made her want to take the words back. But she couldn’t. The only thing she could do was say no more.

Almost perfunctorily, he kicked her hard again, actually moving her across the dirt. A deep groan filled her throat as she fought for breath. But as her eyes filled with tears, she reminded herself that she had endured far worse from Vacek. She remembered the cold place that her mind went when she was being beaten. Unbidden, that gift came back. She calmed her breathing and saw more clearly.

“Tell me, little witch, do you love him?”

She’d already said as much.

“Yes,” she hissed, hoping to stave off another blow.

“Does he love you?” She started to answer, but the man cut her off. “Stupid question. Of course he doesn’t, else he would have protected you better. Still you can go get him, can't you?”

“No,” she said, voice trembling, barely under control. “He…he's already left town. He was called away to fight others. He had no more time for me.”

“
That's a lie
.”
 

This time he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back so hard that she wailed.

“He is still here,” he said, “and you will lure him out for me.”

“I can’t,” she gasped. “He’s already gone!”

 
“Liar!”

The man's shout echoed from the cave walls, and she cringed. He was the first Templar she had ever met, and from what she had been told, a certain madness ran through the entire order. The Templar Knights were famously strong, and famously unhinged.

“You are going to go. You are going to find him. You will lead him to me. I will kill him, and you, little Judas goat, I'll send you bleating back into the world.”
 

“But I…”

“That is the bargain, little witch. I am not to be trifled with. Find the warlock. Bring him back. Then run away. You can live your pitiful, little life for a short while longer.”

“No.”

For a moment, they both froze. The word had come out of her mouth crisp and clear, as powerful as a trumpet's song.
 

Nicolette had lived her life in the shadows. She had always been someone who had done what was necessary. She knew how to protect herself and how to survive, and for the first time, she realized that there were things more important to her than survival. She imagined this maniac hovering over a betrayed Sebastian, and it was like cold water had been dumped over her head. She could no more see him harmed, than she could take her own life. Remorse flooded through her at the thought. She’d rejected the very thing she’d been desperate for, and risked his life in the bargain. She stared directly into her captor’s eyes with all of the venom she could summon, and spat.

“Take your offer to hell,” she said scornfully. “I am not negotiating with a murdering lunatic.”

For a long moment, her captor was still. He could have been made of the same rock as the cave around them. Then he stood and stoked the fire a little higher. She could see his face now, and in some ways, she was surprised at how normal he looked. He was a bulky man of middle years. In his sweatshirt and jeans, he would have been unremarkable on any street in any city.
 

Whether her training with Sebastian had indeed sharpened her reflexes or if a close proximity to death had made her extra sensitive, she could see his aura too. It flickered around his head, that same sickly white streaked with gray. Now she could see the beginnings of a red rage bleed into it as well. He shook his head.

“You'll take some convincing,” he said softly. “I can see that. But you'll agree. You’ll have to.” She shook her head, out of words. All that was left was her resolve. “Little witch, you are going to change your tune.”
 

He smiled, as he picked up his knife.

Nicolette watched, her eyes wide as he raised it. Its bright gleam caught the flickering fire light.

“So sing for me, little witch,” he said quietly, moving the flat of the blade to her throat. With deft smoothness, he slid it behind her ear. An involuntary shudder ran down her body as the tip of the blade came to rest behind her neck. “Sing,” he whispered, as he slowly pressed the knife inward.

She screamed.

KARAS SQUAWKED ANGRILY, fluttering above the entrance to the cave. The bird looked at Sebastian as if to ask him what he was waiting for. The fact that it was a cave made Sebastian feel a little better. His power made this home ground, but it wasn't Karas's.

“Stay here, you got me?” he said, pointing at the bird. “That's no place for you.”

Familiars were extremely intelligent, but they could be unpredictable. Many of them felt they knew better than their masters or mistresses. Whether they would take orders from another witch or warlock was entirely a matter of chance.

Though Karas screamed again, he settled on a tree nearby. His gimlet gaze bore into Sebastian, and Sebastian got the message. He took a knife from its sheath as he opened up his consciousness and entered the caves.

He got a feeling from the surroundings as soon as he walked in. It was a sensation that made him queasy. There was something unsound about the walls and the ceiling above. Over the centuries, water had eaten its way through the stone, now riddled with crevices. This was a cave that was looking for a reason to collapse and, to Sebastian, it was too much like entering a burning house. When he was younger, he might have run forward, but with this much at stake, he had to keep himself in check. Even a warlock attuned to the earth could trigger a rock fall. Then all would be lost.