She moved to the window and looked out. To her left, she could see a group of men, big men not far from the cabin, all wielding swords and intent on something. But she couldn’t see what because—and wasn’t this just the best news ever—there were two women on her porch.
Shit. Two females. She wasn’t exactly “girlfriend” material in the platonic sense. And if they’d brought a plate of brownies, she might just scream.
She sighed and opened the front door. The lead woman wore jeans and had enough cle**age showing from a snug tube top to support a bunch of nicely folded “ones.” She had straight black hair just past her shoulders, some serious black eyeliner, and a spiderweb tattoo on her neck. Her right eyebrow was pierced with a thin silver loop and she had a second piercing, a small amber jewel, beside her left nostril. Her eyes were steely gray and damn, the woman was tall, maybe six-two. She leaned against the doorjamb and narrowed her eyes looking down at Marguerite. “Heard we had a new Seer in town.”
Well, wasn’t this a surprise. No brownies, just attitude.
But Marguerite was so not in the mood. “Screw you.” She slammed the door but was really surprised when she heard the women laugh and the other one say, “Told ya she wouldn’t like it, Brynna.”
Told ya?
Curiosity got the better of her and she reopened the door. “What the hell do you want?”
The woman next to Brynna, a shorter chick with red hair, said, “Neither of us could get a reading on you in the future streams—which can mean only one thing, a Seer of power. Brynna”—she jerked her thumb at the Amazon next to her—“just wanted you to know that we’re not your typical Seer outfit.”
Huh. Maybe she needed to rethink her “Amish” theory.
“Well, I guess you’d better come in and tell me what the hell is going on then.”
She headed back to the leather couch, picked up her cup of coffee, then curled up in the corner. She would offer them a cup as well, but she wasn’t in the mood to play hostess. She felt that same overwhelming need to get out of this colony … now.
Brynna crossed the room to straddle the rounded edge of a big leather club chair, but Red moved to the windows to watch the men just down the street.
Brynna said, “We hear Arthur and one of the Warriors of the Blood slaughtered some death vamps last night.”
“Yep. Eight of them.”
“We’ve never had them here before.”
“Never?” That was another surprise. She glanced at the window. In the distance, above the trees she could see the mossy mist. “You’ve got some interesting protection. I guess that’s kept them out.”
“You can see it then?”
“Can’t you?”
Brynna shrugged. “Yeah.”
Red called out, “But the rest of us can’t. Brynna’s the only one with power like Diallo, and Arthur, too, I guess.”
Marguerite shifted her gaze back to Brynna. “So you’re powerful?”
Brynna shrugged again, but her lips got a pinched look and she didn’t meet Marguerite’s gaze.
“Well what do you know,” Marguerite said. “You don’t like having all this power, either. I thought I was the only one.”
Brynna shook her head and now stared at the rag rug beneath the coffee table. “I … I hate it. I’ve felt like a goddamn spectacle most of my life and of course my parents, my loving parents, always pushed me forward making me perform. It really sucked.”
“So let me understand. Your Seer power is not your most potent gift?”
Red turned to face the room. “She can go invisible all the time. It’s really annoying.”
Marguerite looked at Brynna. “You mean like folding?”
But Brynna faded to nothing really slowly and said, “Not like folding at all.” She fell silent.
Marguerite could feel her move, though, almost like a ghostly presence. She sensed that Brynna’s hand was near her head so she reached up and caught it, trapping her wrist in a tight fist. She looked up into surprised gray eyes as Brynna made herself visible.
She nodded, but this time she actually smiled as she said, “Well f**k me, this time. No one has been able to do that, ever.”
Red faced her. “Not even Diallo.”
“Nope.” Brynna added, “I don’t know about Arthur. But he’s a little too young to mess with.”
Marguerite frowned. She knew she was powerful, but it sometimes surprised her just how different she was from most ascenders. She glanced at the mist again then back to Brynna. “How long have you two been here and where did you come from?”
Brynna had been in the colony a couple of hundred years. That long? Red, less, just forty years. And her name was Jane, come to find out.
“Do you miss Second Earth?” Marguerite asked.
“Sometimes,” Brynna said. She plucked at the buttons on the flannel shirt she wore loose around her tube top. “I miss the air. The air is different on Second. And of course I miss the gardens. We don’t have public gardens like Second does.”
“Why did you come here then? Why did you leave?”
At that, Brynna and Jane exchanged a glance.
Oh, shit. “Tell me.”
“We’re Seers Fortress refugees. Jane escaped from the Atlanta Two Fortress and I’d spent one day in the St. Louis Two Fortress but like I said that was two hundred years ago. Diallo found us on the run and brought us each here, far from our families—or at least it was far away at the time.”
Marguerite nodded. The whole Seer system was for shit. Any time an ascended child or the occasional young adult was discovered to have Seer ability, the families of the gifted would be persuaded through land grants and wealth to relinquish rights to the individual, always of course with the promise that the child would be given an excellent education, rich lodgings, and all that an ascended vampire could wish for on Second Earth. The families were also encouraged to consider the profound honor the child would have as a Seer in Second culture since most Seers assisted their territorial High Administrators. That the Creator’s Church sanctioned and encouraged children to be removed from their homes and placed in Seers Fortresses only added to the pressure families experienced to give up their gifted children.
Though the occasional High Administrator of a Seers Fortress was liberal-minded, kind, and followed through on the promises made to the families, for the most part abuse seemed to be the order of the day. Over the centuries, the Fortresses became locked-down facilities and the Seers subject to the kindness or villainy of whatever disposition the administrator possessed.