Seers (24 page)

“I’ll let you figure it out.”

“You expect me to believe that you came here to help us?” Patrick asked, incredulous. “After you forced her to touch you?”

“That was just for a bit of fun.” He popped another piece into his mouth, and then glanced at his watch. “I really better be going. I have places to be, you understand.” He gave us each a last smile, then turned and walked away, leaving us standing there; the overpower-ing smell of popcorn almost sickening to my twisting stomach.

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Twenty-one

Lying on my bed in my dark room, it was almost hard to imagine that the events of the night had actually happened. I’d survived the double date, and talked with my first Demon. Not that the talk had been very enlightening. He’d come to warn me, but had never really gotten much out besides the basic watch your back kind of thing. In reality, the whole thing was scar-ier than no warning at all.

After the Demon had abruptly left us, it took a while before Patrick released my arm. But he stayed very close to me as I ordered a few different treats at the concessions counter, and for pretty much the rest of the night. Walking back toward the theater, I wanted to talk about everything that had happened, but it was clear by Patrick’s dark and pondering expression that he’d rather not.

Just before reentering the theater, however, he spoke quickly.

“Do you think you could come by the warehouse tomorrow morning sometime?”

I’d given him a quick nod, and then he didn’t speak directly to me the rest of the night.

The only upside of the Demon encounter was that nothing in the movie even came close to scaring me.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep. And when I did, I kept having this dream that I was in a movie theater, completely surrounded by people with black auras, and unable to get out.

They were all speaking Spanish, and I kept hearing the name Quin

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Romero. It was probably the worst dream I’d ever had, though I didn’t fully understand it.

I was glad when seven o’ clock came around, and I could finally justify getting out of bed. It was late enough that I shouldn’t be asked too many questions, but if Grandpa saw me I would probably get more than a strange look. After all, it was a Saturday, and I’d come in quite late last night.

I hurried to get dressed, settling for a plain white tee shirt and a pair of old capris. My hair wasn’t completely flat, so I gathered it up in a ponytail, showing off the remaining curls to their best advantage. I skipped the makeup, even though I knew I’d be seeing Patrick. I kept feeling like I was taking too much time as it was.

Grandma was up, making homemade muffins. I think she’s the only person I know who—without fail—wakes with the sun. She complained a little that I was leaving before the muffins would be ready, and I had to take two granola bars before she’d let me leave. (I told her I was meeting Lee at the mall, for an all day shopping spree. I know, I shouldn’t tell lies—but sometimes the truth is worse.)

Anyway, she told me to have fun, but be home before five that night. Grandpa was taking her to the symphony, and I would be on twin duty.

So after the short delay, it was just after 7:40 when I pulled up to the old warehouse. It wasn’t until I switched the car off that I realized that I hadn’t even called. Not much I could do about that now, I finally decided. So I snatched up my purse, locked the car, and then moved to the familiar double doors. I pulled open the left one, and stepped into the darkish room. Every scuff of my feet echoed loudly across the floor, and so I found myself taking the stairs two at a time—anything to end the awful, empty sound.

Though I’d only been to the warehouse once, I knew which hall led to the right door without any hesitation. I stepped up to the closed door, and then quickly knocked.

There was a pause, and I found myself needlessly holding my

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breath. And then I heard a couch offer a protesting squeak, followed by slow footsteps. The door swung open, and Toni grinned at me.

“Ah, an early riser. I like that in a woman.” I hardly knew what to do with such a weird greeting. “I, ah . . .

sorry I didn’t call first.”

“Don’t be silly—come in, come in!” He pulled the door open wider, stepping to the side as he did so.

I slid past him into the room, but soon paused before the low table; awkwardly fondling the strap on my purse as I stood, waiting for something. Anything. Maybe I just wanted Toni to say something else—invite me to make myself at home. Not that an invitation would make me overcome my sudden shyness, but still.

I noticed that someone had cleaned the place up a little. Of course, I use the term clean very loosely. The floor needed to be swept, and a little dusting wouldn’t go amiss. But the garbage that had previously littered the table and floor was gone.

Patrick’s absence from the room was also duly noted, but before I could ask, Toni was closing the door and waving toward one of the closed doors—Patrick’s bedroom. “Our esteemed group leader still sleeps. He’s not exactly a morning person.” He strolled casually toward me, still smiling widely. “It’s great to finally see you, Kate. I mean, when you actually know everything.”

“Um, yeah,” I said, uncertain if I should be offended by the way he said that—like I was completely dumb the last time we’d spoken.

He put out his brown-skinned hand, and I shook it a little unsurely. But at his warm touch I felt myself relax slightly. “Welcome to the team,” he said happily. “This is pretty much my favorite part—the Demon hunting. This preliminary stuff—getting to know you, slowly telling you everything—that gets boring. But this—this is why we’re here.”

I released his hand and shook my head. “Easy for you to say. It wasn’t your life spinning out of control.” 184 K • • •

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“Touche.” He clapped his hands loudly together, and I almost winced at the unexpected sound. “So! How’d your whole first Demon encounter go? Patty didn’t share many details.”

“Patty?” I asked, smiling despite myself.

“He likes it. Secretly. Very secretly.” Toni ambled back to the couch, then sat and faced a new-looking laptop that rested on the coffee table. Since it hadn’t been there last time, I assumed it was courtesy of Terence’s most recent visit.

“What are you doing?” I asked, curiously stepping closer.

“Research, mostly. It’s another project—you wouldn’t be interested.”

Before I’d actually given my body the command I was sinking into the couch next to him, my eyes searching the screen. It was a news article, but that wasn’t what first caught my eye. It was the headline that grabbed my attention: Death Train Continues To Advance.

“I know this story. My Grandpa was telling me about it.” I felt my body stiffen, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. “Is it . . . a Demon?”

“You’re quick,” Toni commented, impressed. “And yup, it totally is.”

A door opened suddenly, and I twisted quickly around to see Patrick just coming out of his room. He had sleep lines criss-crossing against the right side of his face, and one hand was running through some very untidy hair. His blue eyes squinted a little, confusion on his face. He was wearing blue and white plaid pajama bottoms, and a gray tee-shirt that was a bit too small for him. It tugged especially tight across his shoulders, outlining his strong muscles impressively.

“Kate?” He asked, his voice croaking groggily. “What’s wrong?

Has something happened?”

Before I could say anything, Toni was clearing his throat loudly. “Uh, dude, you’re in your jammies. Don’t embarrass the company.”

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“I heard your voice,” Patrick continued, ignoring Toni and completely focused on me. He stretched open his eyes, as if that would help banish the lingering sleep, and then he expelled a heavy breath. “I was worried.”

I knew I was staring at him, but I couldn’t help it. I’d never seen his body this accented—seen so much of his muscular arms.

“I’m sorry—I should have called or something. I know it’s early . . .” He just shook his head, pinching his eyes closed briefly. “No, that’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He glanced toward Toni, brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Toni shrugged, turning back to the computer. “You just looked so darn cute and peaceful,” he said, his words only partially laced with sarcasm.

Patrick swallowed hard, and then rubbed a hand over his face—but not before I saw his eyes roll. Now that his initial scare was over, though, he was beginning to look slightly embarrassed.

“Right. Well, um, I’m going to go and, get dressed.” He hesitated, then turned suddenly, muttering something I couldn’t quite catch.

He stepped back into his room and firmly closed the door behind him.

I heard Toni chuckling, and I turned questioningly toward him. “What?” I asked.

He just shook his head, eyes on the screen, lips tugging into an unwilling smile. “Nothing at all, Kate. Nothing at all.” I wanted to question him further, but my eyes had followed his, and soon I was reading the article along with him.

A few short minutes later, when Patrick stepped back into the room—this time fully clothed, though he was wearing a brown t-shirt instead of the usual button-up one—Toni and I were just finishing the last line of the article.

Patrick looked over at us as he moved for the fridge. “Learn anything new?” He asked, once he saw Toni lean back, signifying his finish with the news story.

“Nope, not really—he’s getting closer though.” 186 K • • •

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“How can you know it’s a Demon?” I asked, glancing between them. “I mean, they’re just accidents.”

“That’s just what he wants humans to think,” Toni answered quickly. “Terence knows it’s a Demon, though. Whoever he is, he calls himself Far Darrig.”

“Far Darrig?” I repeated the strange words a bit uncertainly.

Patrick broke in from across the room, where he was tossing some wrappers and things into the nearby trash can. “Fear Dearg.

It’s Irish.” When he spoke the old Gaelic words, they sounded musical.

“He’s an evil spirit in Irish legend,” Toni said, eyes wide and voice haunting.

“Actually, he’s one of the Good People,” Patrick caught sight of my confused face over his shoulder, and elaborated. “A Fairy.

Like the fabled Leprechan. They’re known also as Wee People.” Toni snorted, then apologetically raised his hand at Patrick’s sideways look. “It’s just hearing that word—especially in your beautiful lilting brogue. It cracks me up. Wee. Wee wee. Wee wee . . .”

“Anyway,” Patrick overrode his partner. “Fear Dearg exists in fairy tales as a mischievous fairy who enjoys playing practical jokes on humans—usually causing some harm and anxiety on humanity’s part. He’s also been called the Red Man, because in the stories he would wear a red cloak and cap.” Toni put his hands behind his head and reclined back into the couch. “Personally, I prefer Cinderella at bedtime.”

“So this person, this Demon—is he Irish?”

“All the nuts are—no offense, Patrick.” Toni paused, then continued, his tone allowing. “But, if you happened to take some, that’s okay too.”

Patrick rolled his eyes, but didn’t verbally reply.

I was still confused. “How do you know so much about this Demon, if he’s still at large? I mean, you know his name, but these deaths didn’t start all that long ago.”

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“Because,” Toni spoke calmly, “This isn’t the first string of freak accidents to ever happen. This has all happened before.”

“It has?”

“Sure. Once in England, and a few years ago in China. Once in New York, too, I think—but that was in the late 1800s or so.”

“Also in Australia,” Patrick added, searching the nearly empty fridge. “Toni, did you eat all those apples?”

“Poss-i-bly?” He said it slowly, making the single word sound like a question.

Patrick sighed, then closed the fridge and turned to me. “Have you had breakfast?”

I nodded, and then he came to join us on the couch—thoughts of food forgotten—continuing the conversation despite the quick break. “There could have been other instances that we’ve missed, but whoever this Demon is, he’s one sick guy. These killings are just a stalking maneuver for him. A way to make his real victim feel the fear of the hunt, and keep humans unaware, but on edge.

He basks in the hunt, obviously.”

“You mean, he’s after someone specific?” I asked, feeling my stomach tighten. “A Guardian?”

Patrick hesitated, debating how to answer me.

Toni didn’t have that problem. “Actually, Terence said he usually kidnaps a Seer.”

Patrick shot him a look, and Toni flipped his palms up; the universal sign for, What did I do?

“A Seer?” I repeated, fear coming into my voice against my will.

Patrick offered a final scowl to Toni, then he focused solely on me. “Don’t worry about it, Kate. Terence just wanted us to keep an eye on things, because it’s happening near here. Other Guardians are handling it. We’re like the optional backup, in case they need help. Besides, we have no indication that Fear Dearg even knows about you. You’re still relatively new.”

“What happens to the Seers he kidnaps?” I had to ask.

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He sighed, and lightly scratched one of the deeper sleep lines, high on his cheek. “Usually, they’re never seen again.”

“Except in Australia,” Toni said quickly. “The Seer was found by her Guardians. I mean, she wasn’t alive anymore, but . . .” his words trailed off, and Patrick took over.

“This is all unimportant. Right now, we need to focus on the immediate Demon problem.”

I pulled in a deep, bracing breath, and then nodded my agreement. If I worried about anything else, I was going to have a mental breakdown. “Right. What are we planning to do about that, exactly?”

“Well,” Toni said expansively. “The best approach to finding a Demon is to do sweeps—go to populated areas and set you loose on them. You find one, we question it. Quite simple, really. Or, of course, we could just wait for them to find you.” Patrick was shaking his head. “No, I was hoping you could do a search on the Internet for me. The Demon gave us a name.”