Seeress: Book Three (Runes Series) (16 page)

When Torin called out and slowed down, I didn’t want to stop. I was in the zone. I shot past him, went on for a minute or two, and then looped back. He grinned, closing the gap between us. He wasn’t even sweating or breathing hard.

“How was that?” Torin asked.

“Amazing.” I pulled off my jacket. “How often do you come out here?”

“Once a week. I’d like to make it every other day. That won’t stay,” he added, nodding at my jacket, which I was tying around my waist. “I can carry it for you.”

“No, I’m good. It’s beautiful up here.” The trees to our left were even denser, but I got my bearings fast. “Is Snake Creek down there?”

Torin nodded. “Tomorrow, we’ll go all the way down to the creek and back up. Ready to head back?”

 
“Yep. I’ll lead this time.” I didn’t wait for his response. “Eat my dust,” I yelled, engaging my endurance and speed runes.

I was good with directions, always had been. Even as a child, Mom would watch me with amazement as I gave directions to people. Torin was gaining on me, and I made the mistake of glancing back at him. I didn’t see the tree, but he did and shot forward like a bullet, grabbed me, and pulled me out of harm’s way. At a freaking full run.

He put me down. “Later, slowpoke.”

I pushed to catch up with him with little result. When I burst out of the trees, he was sitting on the bike chugging water. He reached inside the saddle, pulled out another bottled water, and tossed it to me.

“You were just humoring me. You are fast.” I guzzled my water. “I mean, really, really fast.”

“I try.” He pushed the hair from my sweaty forehead. Then he handed me my jacket. “You dropped this, too.”
 

“I did?” He was always right, which could be so annoying sometimes. “Tomorrow, don’t hold back. I want to see how fast I can go.”

I sat in the middle of my bed and watched Femi remove rings from her jewelry box. I was still pumped after our run, despite the fact that I’d showered, eaten, and even spent a few minutes with Dad. His fever was under control, but he was still lethargic.

“These are mementos from tours, so nothing scary. Every concert I attend, I always visit local shops run by witches and buy something. Some people buy concert T-shirts and hats; I collect charm bracelets, amulets, and rings.” She placed three bracelets, two pendants, and several rings in front of me. “Remember, these are visions. They are not real even though they might feel like it.” She sat back. “When you’re ready, pick up one.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
Please, let the visions be clear this time.
I reached forward, lifted a charm bracelet, and closed my hand around it. Femi gave me an encouraging smile. Then her face faded to black.

The screaming fans filled my ears, and bodies appeared to press against me. Next to me was Femi waving and jumping to the beat of Michael Jackson. The King of Pop was on stage, but my blurry vision wouldn’t let me see him properly. I swear, once my vision cleared, I was so touching this bracelet again. I looked at my hand and realized I still clutched the bracelet.

I opened my palm, and the bracelet dropped. The concert scene disappeared, and my eyes met Femi’s. I grinned. “I didn’t fall over.”

“No, you didn’t.” She grabbed a hand mirror and held it in front of my face.

My hazel eyes were golden.

“Your eyes didn’t roll into the back of your head,” she added. “They glowed and stayed transfixed on me.”

“That’s good, right?”

She nodded.

“So you were a Michael Jackson fan?”

“I still am. If you ever visit me at my house, you’ll see. I probably attended more of his concerts than any other musician. The Beatles and Elvis come second and third. Was your vision still blurry?”

I nodded. My eyes fell on the picture of me that Eirik had taken and given me on my seventeenth birthday. It wasn’t the best or the worst of his work, but it meant the world to me.

“They were like some pictures Eirik used to take whenever he used the wrong lens. Oh, and I could control my return. I just let go of the bracelet.”

“You want to try another?”

I nodded and palmed the ring, which took me to a Bon Jovi concert. I lingered. Torin loved Bon Jovi. Another bracelet took me to a performance by The Beatles, then other bands with familiar songs I couldn’t name.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Femi said. “We’ll do more tomorrow.”

Femi collected her things while I studied my reflection. My eyes still had the golden glow. As I watched, the color faded to hazel, the brown dominating
 
the green.

Once Femi left, I texted Cora before opening the portal to her bedroom. She waved from her desk. “Almost done editing,” she said.

Echo wasn’t around, and her door was closed. I stood beside her and read the links she was adding at the end of her video. “That’s nice.”

“Isn’t it? I had no idea how many organizations out there help people deal with grief. I thought I’d add them in case they can’t talk to a friend or relative.”

When she was done, we watched the recording. She’d named it Entry A. “What’s going to happen when you reach Z?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far. I’ll do one every other week. If the response is great, then I can do weekly.” She got up and stretched. “What’s the verdict?”

“It’s great, Cora. You said it was a hypothetical situation and didn’t use real names. You focused on the power of forgiveness. Anyone should relate to that.”

Cora leaned on her desk and quickly changed the title to The Power of Forgiveness. “Now it’s perfect.”

A knock at the door made us both jump back. I engaged my runes before her mother entered with a hamper. “Hey, hun. Was that Raine?”

“W-what?” Cora asked.

“I heard Raine’s voice.”

Cora glanced at me and made a face. I pointed frantically at her cell phone.

“Yeah, we were talking on the cell phone. I put her on speaker while I worked on my new vlog.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were back to vlogging.” Her mother’s voice said she didn’t like the news. She might change her tune once she saw it.

I pointed at the portal and Cora nodded.

“We don’t see her anymore, the poor dear,” her mother said, entering Cora’s closet. “Does she mention Svana and how she’s doing?”

Cora got up. “No.”

I glared at her. We’d talked about this. She had to stay true to our story.

“I mean yes, she’s talked about it, but no, Mrs. Cooper is not doing well,” Cora corrected. She made a face at me as though to say “sorry” and followed her mother. “Mom, I’ll take care of my laundry.”

Her mother patted her arm and kissed her temple. Watching them, I fought the urge to cry. I missed Mom. Missed her voice. Her hugs. Mom loved hugs. She would embarrass me with long hugs when she’d drop me off in middle school. That was why I’d preferred Dad driving me to school. Now I would kill for one of her hugs.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Cora’s mother said. “Remember it’s a school night.”

“Kay, Mom.”

I waited until the door closed behind her and then rounded on Cora. “Seriously?”

“Oh, come on. I panicked and blanked out.” She went to the door and peered outside. “She’s gone.”

“Stick to the answer we agreed on, please.”

“Okay. Your mother is at a private institution in Portland. You visit her every weekend, but you don’t like talking about her. One of these days, she’ll ask for the name of the hospital and why I don’t go with you.”

“Tell her only family members are allowed and it’s a name you can’t pronounce. See you tomorrow.” I paused by the portal. “Show her your vlog. She’ll love it.”

She grinned. “I know. She hated my old vlog.”

I waved and disappeared through the portal. I brushed my teeth and crawled under the covers. Something fell from my bed and rolled onto the floor. I turned on the lights and searched for it. It was one of Femi’s rings.

Without thinking about my abilities, I palmed it. The room started to fade. I quickly sat and scooted back until my back pressed against the bed.

I’d expected another band and screaming fans. Instead I was inside a shop. Must be where Femi had bought the ring. A woman dressed like Mom stood behind the counter. Mom was into Boho chic—belted maxi skirts and cute embroidered tops, hair down, head accessories, and lots of handmade jewelry. The woman’s image was a little clearer.

I strained to see her properly.

The door dinged, and two men and a woman entered the room. “We are looking for a friend and a regular customer of yours,” the woman said.

“I have many customers,” the witch said.

“Her name is Femi. Short, brown skin, and blue eyes,” the female of the trio said.

“Femi only comes here when there’s a concert. I haven’t seen her since last year when Bon Jovi was in town.”

“Do you have her contact or last known address?”

“No, I’m sorry,” the witch said. “I don’t give out customer information.”

“She’s hiding something,” a male voice said.

My stomach dropped. It was the same British accent. I turned as the man drew closer to the trio by the counter. Same long dark hair. His face was still blurry, but I couldn’t miss the blue eyes if I tried. Who was this man that looked so much like Torin? His brother? Maybe he never died.

The others stepped aside to let him pass. “You know where she is, luv, don’t you?” He lifted his hand and did something I couldn’t see. “Tell me, witch.”

“
Ylvis
is coming to town next week for a performance,” the woman said in a flat voice. “She will be here.”

“What is Ylvis?” the Brit asked.

“Two Norwegian brothers talk show hosts and comedy duo, my Lord,” one of the men said. “Their song went viral last year.”

My Lord? Maybe it was not Torin’s brother leading this band of killers. Maybe Torin had a long lost relative who looked just like him.

“Thank you, Keegan.” The head honcho lowered is hand and the witch crumbled behind the counter. I let go of the ring.

My eyes opened and met familiar sapphire eyes. Torin was seated opposite me on the floor, legs stretched out on either side of me, elbows resting on his knees.

I couldn’t think of anything else to say except, “Hey.”

“Hey. You okay? You had that Bambi look going.”

I smiled. “Yes. It’s called being in a trance without blacking out, something I worked on tonight. Are my eyes still golden?”

“Yes. They’re kind of… disturbing.”

“They’re beautiful,” I retorted, reaching for the mirror on my bedside drawers and studying my reflection. Color me vain, but I loved them golden. I looked exotic and powerful.

“I love your hazel eyes. They’re beautiful. I love how they change color under different lighting or with the color of your dresses.”

I lowered the mirror and glared at him. “You don’t like my witchy eyes?”

“No.” He got up and offered me his hand.

“Tough. I love them.” I grabbed his hand and let him pull me up. I took a tissue from a box and picked up Femi’s ring. “I need to talk to Femi about my vision.” I started to leave my room but remembered I needed my laptop. I turned and bumped into Torin. He always took too much space.

“Slow down.” He gripped my arms. “What is this about?”

I squirmed out of his hands and went for my computer. “This evening, I touched Femi’s magical jewelry and saw visions of concert after concert she’s attended. The visions were blurry, the concerts loud, and the fans crazy.” I left the room, and he followed. “Then just now, I found a ring she left behind.” Sounds came from downstairs, so I knew Femi was still up. “I picked it up and got a new vision. Do you know the two brothers who sing
What Does the Fox Say
?”

He groaned. “I hate that song.”

“Seriously? It’s fun and catchy.” Femi was watching TV in the living room and looked up when we stepped off the stairs. I gave her the ring. “It must have dropped from your box.” I explained what I’d seen. “He did something to her.”

“That’s Rosalinda. She owns a shop in Philly.” Femi shook her head. “But
Ylvis
’ tour of America doesn’t start until next week. They don’t come to Philly for two more weeks.”

“So I just saw something that hasn’t happened?”

She nodded, her excitement matching mine. She reached for her phone and tapped in numbers. I sat, opened my laptop, and booted it.

“What are you looking for?” Torin asked from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Confirming that the duo is coming to Philly in two weeks and not next week. Concert dates change.” He sat beside me, but there was an edginess about him tonight. He was restless. “Have
you found out anything about your seal?”

“No.” He slouched lower, propped his arm along the top of the chair, closed his eyes, and played with my hair. “Someone gave them to the auction house with a bunch of family heirlooms we thought were lost years ago. Even the present Earl of Worthington didn’t know about them. They weren’t listed in the family heirlooms, so they must have been stolen centuries ago.”

Echo once said that Torin’s family had lost their fortune in a humiliating way. The online articles didn’t mention it. “Have they always been wealthy?”

Torin grimaced. “No. They’ve been hit by hard times like everyone else, but I always help.”

Typical Torin. Noble and protective. “How? I mean, you can’t write them a check or drop off a gold bars?”

He chuckled softly and tugged a lock of my hair. “Cute. Sometimes a mysterious, long lost uncle dies and leaves his fortune to the family.”

“And
you
are the mysterious uncle,” I said.

“You’d be amazed what you can do with the names of dead people without family ties. They get a ‘Descendant of Willian de Clare, Earl of Worthington’ added on their grave to the amazement of their friends while a few members of my family get a fortune. Other times, they just get money from an anonymous benefactor.”

“And they just accept it, questions unasked? I’d want to know.”

He shrugged. “A few have tried and gotten nowhere. Andris is very good with computers and creating dummy companies behind dummy companies. We haven’t found the person who stole these items, but Andris is tracking down the buyers and getting them back. The things they sold meant a lot to my, uh, parents.”

“Do any of your relatives look like you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I told you, no one looks like me.”

That was arrogance speaking. “So no black-haired and blue-eyed cousins or uncles?”