Demon Kissed (Demon Kissed #1) - Page 18/43

“You noticed enough. And don’t worry about today. I have to meet with Julia, you talk with Al, and then we can go to the gym and practice some more.” The church had an old gym, complete with circa 1945 gym equipment. It was a relic, but it provided a safe place for me to learn. Valefar couldn’t enter churches. Since the gym was attached to the church, we were safe.

“Thanks Eric,” I pulled my curls over my shoulder, and away from my face. “So, what do you think Sister Al wants with me?”

Eric looked in my direction briefly, before turning his gaze back to the traffic. “Maybe she figured out what your gift is?” All the Martis were sorted into one of three groups based on their natural abilities or giftedness. This gift was supposed to help me fight Valefar. It was supposed to make my life easier, but it was taking Al longer to determine my gift than usual. She wanted to speak to me about it today.

“Maybe,” I replied. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop when Al pegged me with a gift. It was going to be a big fat Valefar shoe that clunked with a resounding GONG. Lowering my head, worry pinched my face. I hoped she found a gift that was normal for a Martis. I couldn’t afford to blow my secret—not yet.

We pulled up to the back of the church building, and piled out of the truck. Eric walked next to me. It felt like we had both called in to the principal's office. Eric said nothing, as he pulled the door open. Stepping over the threshold, I immediately smacked into someone. The tall brunette was irritated with my clumsiness. She acted like no one had ever stepped on her before. She looked like an Italian supermodel, so maybe no one had. Her waist was tiny, and her hips curved just so, and met up with some killer legs. Most girls couldn’t get legs like that, even if they stayed on a stair climber all day. Her dark hair was smooth, and pulled back neatly into a clip at the nape of her neck. She was dressed like a librarian, wearing a gray pencil skirt and a sweater vest. And she was glaring at me.

Eric’s hand was on the small of my back, as he pushed me back towards her, and into the room. “Ivy, this is Julia. Julia, Ivy Taylor.” He looked at Julia, adding, “She’s new.”

A single perfectly plucked brow arched on her angular face, as her brown eyes evaluated me. She spoke in heavily accented words, “Pleased to meet you,” though I could tell that she wasn't. “I am the Regent Martis of the Dyconisi.” Her thick Italian accent continued, “Are you going to be a warrior or a healer?” My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say. I looked at Eric.

Eric answered for me. “She doesn’t know what she’ll be yet. Al’s been working with her to figure it out.”

Julia hmmed me.

Feeling a trickle of panic, I realized that her gaze scared the crap out of me. I stepped a tad closer to Eric, and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Sister Al will tell you. You need to go talk to her,” Eric said sweetly.

Julia’s arms were folded. “Yes, it is her job. Go and speak with her. Report back when she is through.” And she waved me off. Julia’s words carried authority, and I doubted there was anyone who didn’t listen to her.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Eric cut off my retort, “Let me point which way to Al. Come on.” He pulled on my arm, leading me out of the room. When we were in the hall he said, “That person’s important. She’s my boss—sort of. And someone you don’t want to piss off. Be nice.” Releasing my arm, he left me in the hall, alone, and walked back to her. I frowned, and padded away slowly.

The tightness in my chest increased, as I came to Al’s door. I closed my eyes for a second, and took a deep breath. I wasn't afraid of the old woman—actually, I liked her. However, wondering if she knew, or suspected that I was anything but a Martis made me dread talking to her. Talking to her alone made that feeling worse. It was only a matter of time until I blew my cover. Either Al would discover what I really was, or I'd do it to myself.

“Are you gonna stay outside forever?” Sister Al’s voice spilled into the hallway. “Get in here girl. Don’t make me wait all night.”

I stepped over the threshold and into the sitting room. The nun was in the rocker she favored. “It’s, like, 4 o’clock,” I jibed. We’d developed a little rapport. She was actually very funny, which shocked me at first. I’d thought nuns would be serious, and demure. Al wasn’t.

“Stop being a smart mouth and get in here, girl. Close the door behind you.” I pushed the wooden door shut, and walked to the empty seat next to her. Before I sat down, she said something that made me freeze. “Ivy Taylor. You are not what you appear,” she said.

My eyes shifted, avoiding her gaze, as my heart lurched. “I don’t know what you mean,” I smiled. Smiling made liars seem more truthful. I hated lying to her, but I couldn’t tell anyone.

Her gnarled finger pointed at the floor in front of her. “Sit. Let’s talk.” I folded my legs under me and sat like a six-year-old on the carpet; then I tilted my chin up to look at her.

Weathered skin hung loosely on her face, covered in tiny creases. She looked at me, missing nothing.

I liked to rip the band-aide off in one fast, painful, pull. I blurted out, “What are we talking about?” Time to get this over with.

“As you know, each of us has a different purpose. It’s time you get yours. I’m a Seyer. I mentioned it to you before, but I never told you what it actually means. A Seyer literally sees the future. We see visions, and then it’s our job to bring them to the Dyconisi. They make laws, rules, and ideas about what we see.” She paused, folding her old fingers into her lap. “There are very few Seyers left. I’m one of the last. That’s why you come to me. I can see what you will be.” My stomach felt like I ate a lead pancake, as dread filled my veins. Assuming she wasn’t nuts, seeing what I was, was a major health hazard.

“So you know? You know that I’m… what I am?” I felt the purple mark burn on my head. I wanted to dig my nails into my flesh and scratch it. But, I kept my fingers laced in my lap.

“Yes. And you don’t have to be afraid of me. I see what you are.” She paused, “But you don’t. I’ll tell you the basics. I’m sure you want to know what gifts Eric and Shannon have.

“Eric is a Polomotis—a warrior. His job is to protect the Martis and the innocent. He is ranked highest amongst Polomotis in this area of the world. He can formulate military strategy with our limited resources. It’s servants like Eric, who protect us, all of us, from the Valefar. Without them we would be vulnerable… and most likely very dead.” She cleared her throat.

“And, Shannon, she’s a Dyconisis. A healer. She can heal wounds. Only physical ones. Not spiritual wounds.” She paused and looked up at me. “There’s a difference.”

I nodded. “Yes, there is.” I knew the difference very well. “So, she can heal a wound—a physical one. But she can’t heal a broken heart? Right?”

She nodded, “Yes, exactly. Our Dyconisis heal and study our laws. Which do you think you are, girl? A Polomotis, Seyer, or Dyconisis?” Her old eyes studied me. The rocker creaked as she pushed gently, swaying the chair.

“I have no clue. I don’t feel like any of those things.” I looked at her. I couldn’t tell what I was, or what traits I had. I didn’t have visions. I couldn’t heal, and Eric already showed me that I couldn’t fight.

“True,” she agreed. “And while you don’t see yourself as a warrior—you will be. You will be the greatest warrior we have seen for quite some time.”

My eyebrow shot up, as I stifled a laugh when I realized she was serious. “But I can’t fight. You saw me with Eric. How can I be a warrior?”

Her aged face considered me before she spoke again. “Eric is going to have his hands full with you. And while you rebel against laws, you can’t help but find comfort in them. And while you cannot heal yourself, you seek to heal others.” She paused, “But out of the three, the biggest portion of your soul is a Seyer’s. You are a Seyer, Ivy Taylor. Like me.”

“But, I don’t see anything. I don’t have visions,” I answered.

Nodding, a soft smile spread across her face, “But you will. The time will come. And you will see. It’ll lead you in the right direction. When it touches you, grab onto it. It will be soon, girl. And I’ll teach you, don’t worry.”

Millions of questions flooded my mind, but it kept spinning back to one. One she already alluded to, but didn’t say for certain. “Can you see my future?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen it.”

My heart was hammering in my ears. She had to know. Why didn't she just say it? I asked, “Then you know?” I was half hoping she would say it was okay that I was tainted. Then there would be hope for me. Staying stuck in the middle, hiding my festering soul, was tedious.

“I know all I need to know,” she said, evading my question in a typical Martis fashion. Her ancient eyes were sharp. She leaned forward in her rocker, “Ivy, your position is Seyer. We’ll help you be what it is you’re supposed to become. Seyers are rare. Very rare.” An ancient finger pointed at my chest, “Especially your kind.”

Instinctively, I flinched. She knew. She had to know. I wanted her to say it. But she didn’t. That was the end of our discussion, and she shooed me away. I slowly made my way toward Eric, slightly fazed. If Al knew I was the prophecy girl, why didn’t she rat me out? Slowing as I neared the room Eric occupied, I could hear their voices carry into the hall.

Julia’s rich accent spoke, “...not acceptable. We cannot allow something like this to occur. Have you found nothing since you've been here? We can't have the same thing happen again, Eric. You know your duty—and how important it is for us. Who is she?”

Eric’s voice followed. “I don’t have her exact name, but I know that she’s formed. There are too many Valefar here, and it's not like last time. There are more Valefar on Long Island than on the entire east coast. They’re searching for her as well. No, this is the right place. It’s her this time. It’s the right spot, Julia. And, I know how important this is. If the prophecy comes true, everything we’ve worked for will be lost. I won’t let that happen.”

“Good,” she replied, “Destroy her. And I want you keeping me updated. When you find her, bind her the way we discussed. She will have new traits, and we believe that will hold her. Then the Tribunal can meet and dispatch of her properly. Creatures of Hell need to be destroyed, so they don’t resurface at a later time. We cannot have her return.” It took every ounce of strength I had not to run screaming from the building. They were talking about me. I leaned in toward the room, trying to be totally silent.

Eric said, “When I find her, you will be the first to know. We’re close. Very close.”

“Thank God,” the strain in her voice lessened, “You and I have looked for this creature for over a millennia. This is one of the only times we have had any indication that the time and place are correct. And last time was a nightmare. You are sure the Valefar are here for her?”