Seeress: Book Three (Runes Series)

SEERESS

Book Three

Ednah Walters

Copyright © Ednah Walters 2014

Published by Firetrail Publishing

Reproducing this book without permission from the author

or the publisher is an infringement of its copyright.

This book is a work of fiction. The names of characters, places,

and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are

not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living

or dead, actual events, locale or organizations

is entirely coincidental.

Firetrail Publishing

P.O. Box 3444 Logan,

UT 84323

Copyright © 2014 Ednah Walters

All rights reserved.

ISBN:
0991251717

ISBN-13:
978-0-9912517-1-1

ARC-Edited by Jeanette A. Cockling

Cover Design by Cora Graphics.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be

used or reproduced in any manner

whatsoever without permission,

 
except in the case of brief quotations

 
embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Firetrail Publishing
publication: April 2014

www.firetrailpublishing.com

ALSO BY EDNAH WALTERS:

The Runes Series

Runes (book one)

Immortals (book two)

Grimnirs (A Runes book)

Seeress (book three)

The Guardian Legacy Series:

Awakened (prequel)

Betrayed (book one)

Hunted (book two)

Forgotten (coming 2015)

The Fitzgerald Family series

(Writing as E. B. Walters)

Slow Burn (book 1)

Mine Until Dawn (book 2)

Kiss Me Crazy (book 3)

Dangerous Love (book 4)

Forever Hers (book 5)

Surrender to Temptation (book 6)

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to

my older sisters, Joyce and Meb.

Meb, you introduced me to romance genre

And I haven’t stopped reading or writing, thank you.

Joyce, thanks for trading books with me.

You two rock as sisters.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

§

Many thanks to people who’ve supported me over the years:

To my editor, Kelly Bradley Hashway, my beta-readers and dear friends,

Jeannette Whitus and Jeanette A. Conkling,

you ladies are amazing. To my person/virtual assistant,

Julia Hendrix, I’m so lucky to have found you.

To my critique partners, Dawn Brown, Teresa Bellew,

 
Katherine Warwick/Jennifer Laurens, and Mercy,

thank you for being there when I need to vent.

Our friendship goes beyond writing and publishing.

To my husband and my wonderful children,

thank you for your unwavering love and support.

Love you, guys.

Last, but not least, to my wonderful fans

 
who have embraced this series

thank you for your support, show of love,

and spreading the word about it.

You guys rock!!!!

Trademark list:

Google

Nikon

Mercedes

Elantra

Sentra

Harley

Chex Mix

Vampire Diary

Supernatural

The Originals

Warner Bros

Cheetos

Coca Cola Company

Glossary:

Aesir
: A tribe of Norse gods

Asgard
: Home of the Aesir gods

Odin
: The father and ruler of all gods and men.

He is an Aesir god. Half of the dead soldiers/warriors/athletes

go to live in his hall Valhalla.

Vanir
: Another tribe of Norse gods

Vanaheim: Home of the Vanir gods

Freya
: The poetry-loving goddess of love and fertility.

She is a Vanir goddess. The other half of the dead

warriors/soldiers/athletes go to her hall in Falkvang

Frigg
: Odin’s wife, the patron of marriage and motherhood

Norns
: deities who control destinies of men and gods

Völva
: A powerful seeress

Völur
: A group of seeresses

Immortals
: Humans who stop aging and self-heal

because of the magical runes etched on their skin

Valkyries
: Immortals who collect fallen warriors/soldiers/fighters/athletes

and take them to Valhalla and Falkvang

Bifrost
: The rainbow bridge that connects Asgard to Earth

Ragnarok
: The end of the world war between the gods and the evil giants

Artavus
: Magical knife or dagger used to etch runes

Artavo
: Plural of artavus

Stillo
: A type of artavus

Grimnirs
: Reapers for Hel

Hel
: The Goddess Hel in charge of the dead

Hel
: Home of Goddess Hel, dead criminals, those dead from illness and old age

Nastraad/Corpse Strand
: The island in Hel for criminals

Yggrasil
: The tree of life or tree of knowledge that connects the nine realms of Norse cosmology

Seidr
: An old Norse term referring to a magical practice by the Norse, it includes act of divination or prophecy performed while in a trance.

Spá
kona:
A Seidr Seeress.

“
Wet, drenched through, and shivering cold, despairing of ship or boat, we lifted up our eyes as the dawn came on
,” I read. “
The mist still spread over the sea, the empty lantern lay crushed in the bottom…
”

I studied my father’s face, and my heart squeezed.
Moby-Dick
by Herman Melville was one of his favorite classics, yet even that couldn’t hold his interest anymore.

“You stopped,” he said slowly, his voice low and whispery.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” I said and cleared my throat before adding, “Do you want me to continue?”

His eyelids lifted, and I stared into eyes the color of muddy pond water. The same eyes stared at me in the mirror every morning, except his were lackluster.

“No, pumpkin. I think Captain Ahab will have to wait until tomorrow. Get Femi, okay?”

“Okay.” I reached for his hand, but he jerked away, cringing from my touch. His eyes sharpened in reprimand, and for one brief moment, I saw the father I’d known before the cancer ate up his brain. “Dad?” I asked.

“No more, Raine. You cannot keep trying to see my future when there’s nothing to see. Accept it.”

“I have.” I meant to say it matter-of-factly, but my voice came out shaky.

A film of tears brightened his eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver from mine. “I love you, sweetheart, but you cannot touch me anymore. The anguish in your eyes every time you do is too much. You must stop.”

My hand fisted and fell to my side. I tried to tell myself he was right, but it still hurt. He was my father, the man who’d pushed me on swings, wiped my tears when I fell, and read to me from books about Norse pantheon when I was young and naïve and didn’t know the stories were real. Now I couldn’t touch or hug him because I was a Seeress. He closed his eyes, long lashes forming a canopy over gaunt, pale cheeks.

“Go,” he urged.

An ache spread across my chest. I stood, stepped away from his bed, and placed the book on the table, my hand shaking slightly. Tears weren’t far, but I fought them. He wasn’t dead yet. I hated crying. Hated that I was a Seeress yet I couldn’t see his future. Hated that I knew magical runes yet I couldn’t heal him.

What good was magic and abilities when you couldn’t help those you loved? The pain my father was enduring was too much. It wasn’t natural. Somehow, I knew the Norns were behind it.

“Do you want the TV on?” I asked.

“Not right now. Just get Femi.”

I left the room. Femi was in the kitchen looking up something online. Femi Ross wasn’t your typical nurse. She was an inked, smart-mouthed Immortal who’d fought more battles than she had amulets and charm bracelets weighing down her arms. Looking at her spiked black hair and smooth brown complexion, you wouldn’t guess she was Ancient Egyptian. Half the tats on her arms were hieroglyphs, including the ankh, the symbol of life.

She looked up and smiled. She had the same startling blue eyes as the boy I was madly and unequivocally in love with, except Torin’s were brighter and sexier and had the ability to make me go soft and gooey inside. Hers didn’t look bad on her either, just unusual for a brown-skinned person. I had no idea where Mom found her, but Valkyries and Immortals seemed to be everywhere these days.

This was the world I lived in now. The world of soul reapers and those they served and helped them: Valkyries, Grimnirs, Immortals, Seers, Norse gods and goddesses. Even my best friend Cora was part of my world, although I doubted she had a title. Soul Whisperer perhaps? She helped souls find closure. I was the Seeress who couldn’t see anything. An epic failure as far as I was concerned.

“Are you two done reading?” Femi asked in a voice made raspy from screaming at concerts. She’d attended many, from rock-n-roll to rap. Personally, I think she used to be a smoker before smoking became uncool.

“For now. He wants to see you,” I said.

She hopped off the chair and hurried toward me. Something about her often reminded me of Pink, the singer. She had the same rough-around-the-edges look and personality. She touched my arm. “You okay, doll?”

“Yeah.”

“If you want to talk, I’ll be back once I etch some pain runes on your father.”

I shook my head and pushed hair away from my face. “No, I’m good.”

“Super, but I’m here if you need me. I’ll order something for dinner, so go visit the others.” By the others she meant Torin.

She disappeared inside the den, my father’s new bedroom. Mom had refurbished the room for him when he became too ill to climb the stairs. She’d be in there with him right now if she hadn’t gone to Asgard for her hearing. She’d decided to rejoin the Valkyries after giving up soul reaping for love. For Dad.

Exhaling, I entered the bathroom by the den and closed the door. Lavania, my tutor, had said I could get premonitions by touching items and people. A soft brush with strings of Dad’s brown hair, which I’d also inherited from him, begged me to pick it up.

I hesitated, unsure whether I should. Scared of what I’d see. Or not see. Blowing out air, I placed an unsteady hand on the thistles and closed my eyes.

Nothing. No sounds. No images. Just inky darkness.

Frustrated, I left the bathroom. Femi was a coffee addict, so there was always some brewing in the coffeemaker. I poured myself a cup, added creamer, and glanced at Torin’s house.

The house next door would always be Torin’s even though my childhood friend, Eirik, was the first to live there. The other Valkyries and Immortals had moved to the mansion up the hill, but Torin liked being close to me. It didn’t matter that most places were only a portal away. He liked to glance out his kitchen or bedroom window and see me. Cute. I liked catching him watching me.

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and frowned when I saw a tawny-haired guy at the mailbox. What was Blaine doing picking up mail at Torin’s?

Blaine Chapman came from a long line of Immortals. He and his family had left town until Torin asked for his help. Immortals were the backup team for Valkyries. They were earth-bound and provided Valkyries with anything they needed, including pretend parents.

I carried my mug to the portal mirror in the living room and debated whether to use it. No, I only did that when Torin was home. It still amazed me how much my life had changed in the last seven months.

Last fall, I’d been your average high-school student with a crush on her childhood friend. Nothing exciting was happening in my life, just a looming seventeenth birthday and swim practice. Then a leather-wearing, dark-haired British guy knocked on my door and my life had never been the same.

Sipping my drink, I let myself out of the house. Spring was in the air, but the weather was typical Willamette Valley, Oregon: sunny one minute and rainy the next. It had rained a little in the morning, but the sun was back up again. A non-Oregonian would consider the day cold. To someone like me, born and raised here, it was perfect. I adjusted the hem of my fitted T-shirt.

Mrs. Rutledge, the nosey neighbor across from our cul-de-sac waved when she saw me. Before Dad’s illness, she couldn’t look at me without judging me. She hated young people. Or resented them. Now she found me tolerable. I was the poor girl whose father was terminally ill. Someone to be pitied.

I crossed the yard just as Blaine disappeared inside the house and closed the door. I should have used a portal. It was faster and private. I glanced over my shoulder and caught Mrs. Rutledge peering at me from behind her curtain.

Get a hobby already, lady.

It felt strange knocking on Torin’s door. Usually the portal from my house led straight to the one in his bedroom or living room.

The door was yanked open from inside and Blaine scowled down at me. I was five-seven, taller than average for a girl, but he loomed over me. Most Immortals and Valkyries were tall. I tilted my head back and smiled.

“Oh you,” he said as if I was the last person he wanted to see.

I didn’t let his attitude get to me. He was in mourning, and my heart ached for him. Three months ago, his girlfriend, Casey Riverside, died during a football game, and he was pissed off at the world.

“Hey, Blaine.”

He frowned, glanced over at my house then back at me, and cocked his brow.

“We haven’t really talked since you came back. Do you want to come over?” I lifted my cup and grinned. “I have coffee.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his topaz eyes. Girls used to swoon whenever he turned those eyes and his megawatt smile in their direction. Me included. Now he was sullen and broken.

He shook his head, his wavy locks of hair flopping over his eyes. “I have to do some stuff at the mansion.”

He sounded impatient to leave. “Oh. Okay. I thought I’d ask. See you.” I turned to leave.

“How’s your dad?” he asked.

I turned and gave him a tiny smile. “Still hanging in there.”

“You know this is
their
fault,” he said, voice low and accusatory, his eyes suddenly burning with rage.

“Whose fault?”

“The Valkyries. They have the power to save lives, but they pick and choose who they save.”

“No, Blaine. The Norns are the only ones with the power to change destinies. Valkyries get in trouble if they use their artavo on Mortals.”

He shook his head as though he didn’t like what I was saying and stepped back from the door. I noticed the blade in his hand. Seven months ago, if a guy his size had stared me down with such rage while stroking a blade that sharp, I’d have taken off screaming. But I recognized the dagger for what it was—an artavus. We used them to draw runes on our bodies and on surfaces to create portals. Besides, as an Immortal, a cut might hurt for a second but it self-healed right away.

Blaine’s anger was totally misdirected. He needed to talk to someone. “You sure you don’t want to come over and talk?”

Topaz eyes met mine, then he looked away, but not before I saw the despair in their depth. “I’m heading back to the mansion then hitting the gym.”

They had a fully-equipped gym at the mansion and an Olympic size pool. So unfair. “I could join you if you’d like.”

A sad smile touched the corner of his lips. “Nah. I’m good. See you around, Raine. I hope your father… I hope you find him some help.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Dad’s cancer had metastasized. Nothing could save him. Not human medicine and not all the runic magic in the world. Only death could set him free, and he was being denied that, too. I hated Norns.

“See you at school tomorrow.” I turned and headed home.

TV sounds came through the door to the den, and I wished I was in there with Dad watching a game. I didn’t even like football, but I now watched Sunday football religiously. How was that going to work now that I couldn’t touch him? We’d probably sit far away from each other with separate bowls of popcorn.

My eyes smarted. I missed Mom. She would make all this bearable.

I glanced at my watch. It was barely after five and Torin wasn’t due home for several hours. My best friend Cora hadn’t called the whole day. She was probably out with her boyfriend, Echo.

I sent her a text, then grabbed a bag of lettuce from the fridge. I was in the middle of making myself a mean salad when warmth crept up my spine and my heart tripped.

Torin. His eyes on me always had the same effect.

“You’re back early,” I called out and glanced over my shoulder.

Torin walked away from the mirror portal in the living room. Leather jacket, jeans hugging narrow hips, and windblown hair wrapped in pure deliciousness couldn’t begin to describe him. He sauntered to where I stood, his sexy smile melting my insides.

“I had a feeling you needed me,” he said, the British lilt stroking my senses. He came to stand behind me and ran his knuckles up and down my arms, his movements slow and sensual. I shivered and leaned against him, welcoming his heat. “Your arms are freezing.”

 
“I went outside to talk to Blaine.”

“Blaine visited you?” He cross-crossed his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, curving his body into mine. I closed my eyes and inhaled. He smelled amazing. But when he rubbed his cheek against the side of my head, I tilted my head, so our faces could touch. His skin was hot.

“Freckles?”

“Hmm…”

“You’re purring.”

I was. “No, I’m not.”

“Am I distracting you again?” he whispered.

He always did. “No. Did you ask me something?”

He chuckled. “What was Blaine doing here?”

“Collecting the mail from your mailbox. I invited him over, but he wasn’t interested.” I zipped up the plastic salad bag and put it aside. “He’s a hot mess.”

“He needs to get his act together.” His breath teased my nape, and I shivered.

I turned in his arms and faced him, the bowl in my hand acting as a barrier. “He needs to talk to someone, Torin.”

“Not you.” He lifted the bowl out of the way and returned it to the counter. “You have enough on your plate.”

“Then you do it.”

He scoffed at the idea. “I’m not Dr. Phil.”