Seeress: Book Three (Runes Series) (10 page)

I stopped breathing. He pulled off his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Hel’s Mist, he needed to stop.

“Torin!”

He turned and cocked an eyebrow, lips curled in a smirk. “I was sure you’d let me go all the way before stopping me.”

My face burned. “You knew I was out here?”

“I knew you were downstairs snooping, Freckles. You make enough noise to wake up the dead. I knew when you made it upstairs.” He sauntered toward me. He chuckled, and I dragged my eyes from his washboard six-pack and the fascinating thin line of hair disappearing under his waistband. “I can finish if you’d like.”

He needed to stop messing with me. Maybe if I started with what the pendant could do he might stop. “I need to show you something,” I said and reached under my T-shirt for his seal pendant.

“Apologize first.”

“Torin, this is not the time for games.”

“Who said I’m playing.” He braced himself on the doorframe and lowered his head until he and I were on the same eye level. “You told me to stay away from you. Unforgiveable. You implied our relationship might not survive. Totally wrong and cruel. But the worst part, you said your feelings for me make you weak.” His eyebrows shot up. “Weak? Seriously? What in Hel’s Mist does that mean?”

He was furious. “Are you forgetting what happened before I said those things?”

“So no apology?”

“No.” I was dying to, but he had to understand I wasn’t a breakable doll.

He stepped back and slammed the door in my face.

My jaw dropped. No, he didn’t. That arrogant man didn’t just do that. I turned to walk downstairs so angry I wanted to chuck something. Halfway down the stairs, I stopped and glared at my phone, wishing I could send him a nasty text. Too bad he wouldn’t see it.

I stomped back.

When I burst into his room, he was waiting. His eyes said he’d known I’d be back.

“Let me tell you exactly what I think of your tantrum, Valkyrie. It was unforgiveable. You don’t slam the door in my face. Ever. You do it again and I’ll… I’ll…” I took a step back as he closed the gap between us. “What are you—?”

He scooped me up and my cell phone fell from my hand. “I have to be the bigger person and forgive you, Freckles. Now we can make out.”

I wanted that, but… “No, we’re not.” I tried to free myself. “I want to show you something.”

His eyebrows rose. “Will I enjoy it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will
you
enjoy it?” He wiggled his brows.

“You are a perv.” My arms tightened around his neck, so he wouldn’t drop me on the bed. “Stop being difficult.”

He sighed. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m fun. Plenty. I mean, I’m plenty of fun.” I escaped his arms, picked up his shirt where he’d dropped it, and threw it at him. “Put it back on.”

“No.” He sprawled on the bed, stretched, and leaned back against the pillows, his eyelids dropping. The look was sexy and irresistible. He knew how to turn up the heat, the snake.

“At least sit on the chair and turn off the sexiness.”

He laughed. “Turn it off? That’s impossible. I’m the essence of sexiness. The sum of all your fantasies wrapped up and tied with a little… bow.” Something on my face must have convinced him that I was serious.

“The things I give up for you. One day…” He got up, pulled up a chair, and sat with his arms crossed and one leg resting on top of the other. He watched me with narrowed impatient eyes as I kicked off my flats and sat in the middle of the bed. When I pulled the pendant from under my shirt, he uncrossed his arms. His leg landed on the floor with a thud.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a voice that was no longer playful.

“Your pendent is magical. Watch this.” I closed my hand around it, and everything disappeared.

Next second, I was standing in a forest surrounded by trees stretching up to the dark sky. Stars winked innocently at me while gravel dug into my feet. I looked at my feet, but my blurry sight made it difficult to see much. So I used my other senses.

I was no longer barefoot. Whatever shoes I now wore were furry. My jeans and layered tees were now replaced with a dark, heavy cloak lined with fur and my gloved hand was closed around a walking stick.

“Move,” the same voice I’d heard in my earlier visions snarled from behind me.

I turned to glance at him, but he pushed me and I stumbled forward, almost tripping on the hem of the cloak. “Where are we?” I asked.

“What kind of question is that? You brought us here.”

We entered a clearing. The place shimmered like a mirage, but I could tell it was already set for a ceremony. A large tree stump was in the middle of a circle made of dug out earth. There was no soil, so I knew the line wasn’t fresh. This was a place of rituals. Runes were carved on the base of the stump, and a smoldering fire sent aromatic smoke into the air.

“Open the circle,” the voice commanded.

“She sees us, you know,” I said. I wasn’t watching this time. I was the Seeress, or at least I was seeing things through her eyes.

“Then she knows we are coming for her,” Torin’s Doppelganger said. “Get inside the circle and show us where they live.”

I used the staff and waved it above a section of the dugout circle. Dirt filled up the section, breaking the circle. Then something weird happened. I appeared to stay behind the circle while the Seeress stepped inside the circle. Now I could see that she wore a lot of furry things: boots, gloves, and a cap. Over her shoulder was a fur pelt. The circle closed and she turned, pressed her hands together, and appeared to look directly at me.

“I will do the warding spell, too,” she whispered, “but you must protect the others. You must stop them from hurting our kind.”

“Who are you talking to?” the guy with the British accent asked, and I whipped around. Or should I say I floated around and faced him?

My heart stopped. Even through my jacked up eyesight, I recognized the same black hair and brilliant blue eyes. Torin.

“It’s okay,” Torin said, his arms tightening around me.

My first instinct was to wiggle out of his arms and put some distance between us. He was a killer. I might not have known the people with him, but I’d recognized him. This didn’t make sense.

“I’m fine.” I sat up and tried to contain my panic, my mind racing. There had to be an explanation for what I’d seen. Torin was many things, but he wasn’t a killer. The man I’d come to know wouldn’t be. “I, uh, that’s what I meant to show you. The amulet is magical. Every time I touch it I get a vision.”

Torin sat on his haunches, carefully removed the amulet from my hand, and threw it in the chair he’d sat on. He peered at me, concern in his eyes. “What did you see?”

How did I tell the man I loved that I thought he was a killer? He was innocent. He had to be. I slid off the bed, feeling like a traitor for believing what I saw, for suspecting him even for a second. “First, tell me what happened when I lost consciousness.”

“Your eyes glowed golden-yellow then rolled into their sockets and you fell sideways. I tried to wake you, but you were so still. Your face…” He shook his head. “I could tell you were terrified. I hate when I can’t reach you or help. I can’t take these trances.”

I stood in front of the mirror and studied my eyes. They’d stopped glowing and my stomach roiled as I thought about the leader of the people killing the Seeresses. Maybe I’d superimposed Torin’s face onto the killer’s because of the accent. Or maybe it was because his face was the last thing I saw before I went into a trance.

The latter made sense. Yeah, that was it.

“Freckles?”

I rubbed my arms, suddenly feeling cold. Through the mirror, Torin watched me with an unreadable expression, hands in the front pockets of his pants. Shirt still off. I loved and trusted him. If, and that was a big if, he was the man in my vision and what I just saw was going to happen in the future, someone was going to make him do these things, which meant I had to find him help. Who would he search for in the future? Me? Did that mean we would be separated?

“This time, I saw things through the eyes of the Seeress. At least for a while. But when she entered the circle, we separated. She said she’d do the warding spell, but I must protect the others. What does warding mean?”

“Protecting. Did you see the killers?”

Yes. I shook my head. No, I didn’t. It was my mind playing tricks on me. “No, but they were forcing her to hold a séance and find some people. The Seeress mentioned a ‘she’. Said
she
was watching them, and the killer seemed pleased. Why is the pendant magical?”

Torin got off the bed and reached for his shirt. He pulled it on, his eyes not meeting mine. I had a feeling he didn’t want to discuss this. He reached for his socks and shoved his feet into them.

I moved closer. “Torin?”

“It was my mother’s,” he said, his jaws tight. “I’m going to find out where Echo found it and why you are reacting to it.”

“Whoa.” I slid off the bed. “Your mother was a witch?”

He made a sound between a scoff and a chuckle. “No, Freckles. My mother was most definitely not a witch.” Seriously, his distrust for witches made no sense whatsoever. But then he reached under him, pulled out the pendant, and said, “She was killed by one.” My breath stalled in my chest at the anguish in his voice. “A very bad and evil witch.”

 
The pain in his voice was raw and I reacted to it, our fight forgotten. I walked to him, wanting to touch him and ease his pain. I lifted his hands out of the way, sat on his lap, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Even though his arms wound around my waist and his head rested on my chest, his body stayed rigid.

“She used it just before she died. She always kept it in her room. I saw her that night before it happened. She didn’t see me because I was an Immortal and couldn’t reveal myself. She didn’t deserve to die the way she did, a sacrifice to a power-hungry Necromancer. I should have saved her. Would have if it weren’t for Lavania and Valkyries’ laws.”

He went quiet, but I felt his sorrow all the way to my core. Even after centuries, he was still hurting and blaming himself. Torin rarely talked about the past, so this was new, and touching, and sad. I fought tears and gently rubbed circles on his back, trying to absorb his pain. Now I understood why he hated witches.

“I hope you made her pay,” I said.

“He. He got what was coming to him,” he growled. “He and every last member of his coven.”

He? I wanted to ask, but then I remembered that in the eleventh century, before the inquisitions and religious fanatics, magic was practiced by both men and women in England and Europe. “Tell me about her… your mother.”

“Freckles—”

“Please.” Maybe if he shared more of his past, he’d start to let go of the pain.

Wow, that sounded like something Lavania would say. Before she left with Mom, she’d told me to see Dad’s dying as a journey to the next level and appreciate the wonderful moments he and I had together. At the time, I wanted to tell her to shut up. Now it made sense. Torin had been carrying pain and hurt for centuries because of the circumstances of his mother’s death. He wasn’t given a chance to say goodbye.

“What was she like? Was she nice or mean?

He gave me a look that said I was pushing it. “She was loving and caring.”

“Noble or a commoner?”

He smiled. “Noble. She was Norman, a descendant of the Vikings,” he explained when I gave him a blank look. “Norman comes originally from the word
Norseman
.”

“So you have Norse blood in your veins after all,” I said.

He chuckled. “Viking blood sounds better. Conquerors and marauders’ blood, even better.”

“Plunderers, pillagers, murderers, and ravishers of women,” I piped in.

He laughed. “So a few people got killed along the way, and the women preferred the stronger and manly Vikings. You can’t blame them. First they conquered Northern France, then England when William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy, invaded England and defeated the Anglo-Saxons,” he continued.

“Was your father Norman, too?”

Something changed in his voice when he said, “Yes and no. He considered himself an Anglo-Saxon although he was the illegitimate son of an Anglo-Saxon nobleman and a Norman maid.”

“How did he meet your mother?”

His jaw tightened. “Do we really need to go into that?”

“Please.” I stroked his hair. “You know everything about me, and I know next to nothing about you. Except for your brother and the crusade—”

“Okay. My father’s background is where the story becomes murky. King William moved his court and nobles to England after he conquered it, took away land and titles from the Anglo-Saxons, and gave them to the Normans. My grandfather on my father’s side lost everything, but my father somehow got them all back. My grandfather never openly acknowledged him as his son, so instead of using the Oakley name, he chose a Norman name, de Clare.” Torin frowned as though some of his thoughts bothered him.