Foresight Page 2

  Head down, I march for my room, winding my decision over in my head, though I know it’s the right one. I can choose to continue feeling conflicted, letting doubt tear me apart. Or, I can dig for answers and uncover the truth behind what I’m seeing.

  If this blue-eyed woman truly is the Light One and not the Dark as I’ve been told, I need to understand why we are so misguided and who, exactly, is the real enemy.

  I almost feel better as I take the short flight of steps to the next level and the living quarters. I pass a pair of young girls who giggle behind their hands, soft cream robes whispering around their feet as they skip on. I owe it to them, to the Oracles of my family, to find out why we are being misled, or, if we aren’t, to clear my mind at long last.

  I’m so deep in my contemplations, I miss the fact someone waits by my room. When I finally realize I’m not alone, it’s too late to slow my pace, too late to avoid the grinning, handsome young man leaning against my doorframe.

  A soft groan tries to rise, but I smother it with a forced smile of my own, turning sideways to Kayden as I unlock my door with a touch of flame.

  His hand brushes my hair and I twitch away, the lock making a soft sound under my touch. “Looking beautiful, as usual,” he says. His voice is a warm tenor, full of meaning and song, and is sighed over by some of the younger girls. They can have him. That angel’s tone disguises a dark core, needy and hurtful. I’ve seen him destroy more than one Oracle’s heart with a careless glee that leaves me with a vile taste in my mouth.

  I open the door, but only a crack, staring up at him with my blankest expression. Anger does nothing, kindness is worse. The only response that seems to frustrate him is empty nothingness. “Excuse me,” I say.

  His green eyes flicker with anger, but he’s still smiling, one hand falling on my upper arm. It’s not an overt move, but I know if I try to pull away, he’ll tighten his grip. How Kayden loves the chase. I refuse to become a toy for his pleasure.

  “Dinner awaits.” He gestures with his free hand, straightening to his full height, a head over me. His dark blond hair spikes artfully, chest broad under an expensive shirt. He’s spent hours in front of the mirror, I can only guess, as self-absorbed as he is arrogant. “Thought you’d join me tonight.” White teeth flash as the touch of his dark magic makes its way from the floor at his feet to pool under mine.

  My flames react before I think, burning away the black tendrils of sorcery before they can advance any further. He hisses at me, squeezing my arm, but flames erupt there, too, and he pulls back, shaking his singed hand.

  I see the fury in his eyes, the monster of hate he hides from everyone, pass through his gaze and know he will hurt me if he can. My fire rises from the depths of me, ready to act, flames disturbing my view of him as they burn in my eyes.

  “Zoe!” I spin at the sound of my name, Kayden’s hand grasping once again, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise before dropping away. Dark hair bobs around full cheeks as my cousin, Rena, comes to a halt next to me, bright smile turning up toward Kayden. Her full breasts strain against her t-shirt as she turns her head and winks at him with blown kiss. “Hello there, handsome.”

  Kayden is all charm again, leaning past me to kiss Rena’s hand. She giggles when he releases her, smiling like nothing just happened between us.

  “I’ll see you two at dinner, I guess.” He doesn’t look at me, sauntering off with his ass stuffed into tight jeans, long legs carrying him in smooth strides down the hall to the stairs. Rena sighs audibly, leaning against the wall next to my door, fanning herself.

  “That,” she says, “is the definition of hotness.”

  I roll my eyes, pushing open my door. “I prefer flames,” I say.

  She follows me into my quarters, flopping down into the large sofa next to the fireplace. I shed my jacket, draping it over a chair, before heading to my bedroom and the bathroom attached to it.

  “Where have you been?” Rena’s high voice sounds petulant, though I know she’s only teasing me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Walking the deep halls,” I say, crossing my room to the bathroom door. The light switch rewards me with a reflection in the mirror, my tired face still angry. I need to learn not to wear my emotions so clearly, and am usually much better at it. But Kayden and his dual nature bring out the worst in me.

  “Whatever for?” Rena appears at the bathroom door as I twist my long, dark hair into a bun at the base of my neck. She wrinkles her small nose. “You spend far too much time alone.”

  I turn to meet her brown eyes, as dark as my own, though that and our thick, black hair are the only two traits we share. She has her father’s build, the sorcerer who mated with her mother a stocky man with round cheeks and thick limbs. My father was tall, from what I’ve been told, and lean, like Piers.

  I must not think of Piers. My cheeks heat as I turn from Rena’s watchful gaze, to splash water on my face in the hope of cooling the sudden burst of flame rising when I think of him.

  “Helps the visions,” I say, hoping she’ll drop it.

  She does, though when she speaks again, I almost sigh and wish she’d go back to her previous line of questioning.

  “Rumor is, Kayden asked Sibyl to be your Pyros.” Rena sounds like she’s jealous, but I couldn’t care less for her hurt feelings as I gasp and turn to her again, water still dripping down my face. She hands me a towel with an irritated expression. “Oh, for Gaia’s sake, Zoe. Surely you knew it was coming. You’re twenty-one, already two years past choosing a partner. And Kayden is the most eligible of all the sorcerers.”

  I shrug, patting at my face to cover my disgust. “Considering there are so many of them, and so few of us, I plan to take my time choosing.” Rena can’t argue with my logic. Nor can my grandmother, though Sibyl has tried. I suppress a sigh as I think about it. Over a hundred young sorcerers live in the sanctuary, all men hoping for one of the dozen or so Oracle women of mating age to choose them. There are times I feel like I’m living in a game show and I’m the prize.

  Rena hooks my arm in hers, all smiles. “Then let’s go examine a few and see who fits the bill.” She throws me a saucy wink, leading me out of my room and down the hall, barely giving me time to lock my door.

  It’s hard not to laugh at her antics as she flirts with the first pair of young sorcerers we encounter, flashing her busty chest and wiggling her walk as we pass them. She’s only seventeen, still two years from mating, but I can tell she’ll have no problem deciding who she wants to claim as a partner, though maybe it will be an issue for Rena. Not that multiple partners are frowned on, but she might wear herself out.

  I snicker at the thought and Rena grins at me, clearly thinking I’m into her little game.

  “At least this batch is cute,” she says, whispering to me as we descend into the main level and our encounters with others grow more frequent. I avoid eye contact with the black-clothed sorcerers, as much as I take time to smile and wave to the cream-clad Oracles who are my family.

  “Time was we could choose from any normal men,” I say, hearing the complaint in my voice, knowing it stems from thinking of Piers followed by Kayden’s assault. From the tenderness of my arm, I know he’s left a dark bruise with his heavy handedness.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Rena says, snotty nature showing. “No more hiding who we are from our suitors. No more worry our normal mates might betray us.” And what of the sorcerers? I wonder. She goes on, oblivious. “And no more running a risk of having a talentless and unseeing baby.” Rena shudders. “Imagine.” She’s always been more than a little pompous about our position, though I find nothing to be arrogant about. We have a sacred gift, given to us by our beloved Gaia. Feeling superior about it seems disrespectful to the Goddess. “And considering it was Grandmother’s idea?”

  Sibyl’s plans for us seem promising. How many times have I heard her tell us tying our fate to the sorcerers only makes us stronger?

  I’m not so sure, e
specially now, though Piers himself is a sorcerer. I lick my lips as we pass through the arched opening and into the dining hall, the pressure of sound almost sending me back out again. The weight of the presence of so many people, the volume of their voices and the closeness feels like an invasion every single time.

  Only a hundred and fifty or so souls, but enough to pull me to a halt with my heart in my throat. Being around so many people can trigger my visions, especially the family. And sorcery seems to feed the flames, rather than the other way around.

  Rena pulls on my arm, keeping me moving, while my tension slowly eases. No visions, at least, not yet. I sink into the seat she pulls out for me with impatience before landing hard in her own next to me with a gusty sigh of irritation.

  “For Gaia’s sake, Zoe,” Rena rolls her eyes at me. “We don’t bite.”

  She’s never experienced the level of connection I have to the future so I hold back an angry retort. Instead, I look up, and find my grandmother watching me.

  Sibyl waves, like a queen on her throne, dark hair gone steel gray, though her face is as young as any woman here. Her deep brown eyes observe me, making me squirm under such scrutiny.

  How was your walk, dear? She smiles ever so slightly.

  Fine, thank you. I try to look away, but her mind holds me, her fire that of old coals and heat.

  Anything new to report? She’s heard the same excuse I gave Rena, that walking the halls helps me with my foresight. It seems to keep her placated enough she doesn’t hunt me down every time I disappear.

  Not today. I very firmly cut her off, though I know I’ll pay for it later. But I can’t have her in my head right now. Haven’t I just decided to prove she’s been lying to me? Being in her presence makes me feel like small, as it always does, though I surpassed her own power at visioning long ago.

  Her partner sits beside her, face tight as he devours his meal. I look away quickly so I don’t have to meet his sharp gaze, the way his goatee hugs his thin mouth always stirring feelings of unease. Perhaps it’s because he’s a small man he works so hard to appear larger than life. But the result simply raises the hairs on the backs of my arms. It doesn’t help he and Sibyl are always preaching preparedness, stirring fear. I look around the room, at the eager young sorcerers, the Oracles of my family. I hope I’m wrong, though I know now, more than ever, I’m right about being lied to.

  Something is coming, all right. Liander Belaisle is correct about that. But the cause and the future are far different than I think he and my grandmother are willing to admit.

  “Rena.” I look down at the plate of steaming vegetables and the slice of rare meat before me, the scent suddenly making me ill. “Do you ever doubt what you see?”

  She stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You’ve been so odd lately,” she huffs, filling her mouth with mashed potatoes, washing it down with water. “Are you all right, Zoe?”

  I shrug, hands tight in my lap. “It’s nothing.”

  Her hand reaches for mine, covering them with her pudgy little fingers. But her intense gaze is caring, not judging as she speaks.

  “I’m worried,” she whispers. “You’ve been too much in the flame.”

  I pull free of her, smile, shake my head. “I’m fine, I promise.” I sigh and lift my fork, prodding my dinner. “Just not hungry.”

  Rena nabs my plate with a wink. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

  I sit in silence in a room filled with sound and wonder if she’s right about me. While I think of Piers and hope.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  I swirl the water around in my crystal glass, keeping my head down while Rena chatters away beside me, overflowing the space between us with her endless runoff. I nod politely from time to time, grunting agreement here and there, all she needs to continue.

  A flicker of motion on my left draws my gaze, lifts my chin enough I can observe who hides in wait. I’m not surprised to spot Rupe hunched in the doorway leading to the main hall of the sanctuary. He always seems to hover, on the outside looking in, his face twisted in a mixed look of madness and terrible loss. Big hands flutter at his sides, pattering over the dirty fabric of his jeans, his t-shirt stained and hanging in baggy dejection from his shoulders.

  His eyes catch mine, head jerking around as though he knows I’m watching him and, for a moment, I fear he’s noticed me. I have nothing to be afraid of. Rupe is Liander’s pet, well- heeled and knows full well if he were to harm any of us, his sorcerous master would punish him. And has in the past when Rupe’s eager insanity has led him to strike out at one of the sorcerers living in the sanctuary. But there is such hopelessness in the man’s eyes, such a lack of reason and so much despair I wonder if perhaps, someday, Liander might lose control of the beast living inside the young sorcerer and, in doing so, let loose such rage as we have never seen.

  For he is a sorcerer. I feel the darkness in him, my Oracle’s power set deep in the black of that base magic. But he also has fire inside, and a creature I can’t identify. At times I sense the same from him as I did with Charlotte, the werewolf woman. But his beast doesn’t have the calm quiet of lupine possession. If Rupe is, in fact, part werewolf, something has gone terribly wrong with his assimilation.

  Rupe waves at me with sudden enthusiasm and I remember the person he used to be, an image of a tall, strong-willed and handsome man superimposed over the hunched wreck he’s become.

  “That ghastly piece of work really needs to find somewhere to curl up and die.” Rena rolls her eyes, jabbing the air between her and Rupe with her silver fork. “Honestly, he acts like he’s still king of this castle or something, instead of a waste of space.”

  My forehead creases into a frown before I can stop myself, nodding to a young woman who bows to me before taking away my unused cutlery. She has a little power, but is mostly latent, like all the servants who care for the sanctuary. I wonder how difficult it must be for her, surrounded by so much magic and only able to access a fraction of her own. If it were me, I’m not sure if I’d rather avoid the powered, save myself the pain of lack, or be immersed in the hope maybe, one day, my own would wake.

  I don’t have to worry about such things, but my empathy is more powerful than I am at times. Like now. I study Rupe as he slides further back into shadow, eyes locked on Liander and Sibyl. It’s hard not to pity him, at least for me.

  “I used to think he was so handsome.” Rena sets down her fork as the same young servant takes her plate, waving the girl off with absent arrogance. “You remember?”

  I do. I nod in answer, heart seeping a little for Rupe as he shakes his head, tapping his temple with one finger, whispering to himself. Surely Liander could see fit to either heal Rupe or somehow ease his pain?

  Rena’s eyes narrow as she turns to me. “Tell me you don’t feel sorry for him.”

  I roll my shoulders, sipping my water for a distraction. “He’s mad,” I say. “There’s no need to prolong his suffering.”

  “Liander seems to think so.” Rena sniffs at my reluctance to agree.

  Something cracks inside me, anger sizzling in fire through the crumbling ashes of my sadness. “Your precious Liander isn’t all that anymore himself.” I catch my breath, cursing softly at myself in my head. I never meant to speak that out loud.

  Rena winks at me, a wicked grin on her lips. Seems she doesn’t care whom she gossips about, as long as she gets the chance to be spiteful. “I know, right?” She casts a slow glance at the end of the table where our grandmother murmurs a conversation with the sorcerer leader. “I remember being so scared of him when we were little.” She twiddles her fingers at me, sparks falling from them to the table while I hiss at her and bat them out.

  Something changed in him, we all felt it. Eight years ago, things were different. Liander’s visits were infrequent, though often enough to keep my grandmother happy. And then, he appeared one night and hasn’t left since, at least not for any length of time. Shortly thereafter, his young so
rcerers began to appear and the new arrangements with his people and mine began.

  “I hear he’s lost most of his power.” Rena taps the side of my glass with one manicured nail, cheeks rosy with the joy of her secret offering. “That he’s hiding here.”

  I chew my lower lip, not meaning to stare at him but my eyes drawn to his face as she speaks.

  The Liander I remember as a girl was arrogant and self-assured. The one who dominates the sanctuary now is bitter, cruel.

  “I don’t get his reasoning,” Rena says, accepting a large slice of chocolate cake from the serving girl. I wave mine off, only to have my cousin grab the girl’s arm and pull her back. “Why he had us stop our readings is beyond me.”

  She’s as bad as some of the older Oracles, gossiping so. And I have no doubt her emulation of them is intentional. Her own mother is the queen of controversy, something I do my best to steer clear of.

  Rena is correct, though. I remember as a little girl, being asked to read for outsiders, brought to expensive mansions and sea-side houses, penthouse suites and underground offices, all to see the future for private, wealthy clients of the Oracles.

  Liander’s permanent residence put an end to that. Now, we only read for him. I’ve often wondered why the change. It feels as though we’ve lost our purpose, though Liander insists—as does my grandmother—our future depends on our secrecy.

  “We should be out there,” I mutter. “Helping like we used to.”

  Rena pokes me with the tines of her fork. “I, for one, prefer not playing trick pony,” she says, her arrogance returned. She licks chunks of cake from her knuckles. “Besides, we shouldn’t be talking about this.”

  Leave it to my blabbermouth cousin to tell me I’m speaking out of turn.