Dark Vision (Ballad of the Seer, Book Two)

Epilogue - What Happens Next

The young receptionist was greeted by a tall slender young man with shaggy, tousled black hair. His gray eyes were intense as he flashed a glimpse of his pearly white teeth in a half smile that made her heart flutter. She had never seen a boy that looked like that in real life before. And to have him make such a flirtatious gesture toward her was unbelievable. She took in every inch of him, from the tip of his designer motorcycle boots, up the legs of his tight black skinny jeans, to the crimson Armani button down - which he'd only bothered doing up the middle two buttons, so it showed off his toned chest and abdomen underneath, as he moved closer to her. He had a black blazer casually tossed over his shoulder, hooked on the end of his middle finger. "She's expecting me." he told the girl, speaking in an American accent. His charming velvety voice practically oozed sexual tension. She couldn't imagine that any straight girl in the world could hear him speak and not fall instantly, madly in love.

Her face got hot, as the blood rushed to her cheeks, when he lifted a lock of her hair, twirling it around one of his long narrow fingers, she noticed a ring on the middle finger of his left hand. It looked old and it contained a large red stone, the color of blood. Normally, she wasn't a fan of men who wore jewelry like that, but he seemed to make it work. In fact, she thought, it rather suited him. "Be a doll and let her know I'm here."

"N-n-name, sir?" the girl stuttered. She cursed herself for getting so flustered. He probably thought she was some kind of weird head case who had never spoken to a guy before in her life.

He didn't laugh or baulk at her, though, as she was expecting him to do. No, he simply smiled at her, like he was used to this sort of reaction from women. And, of course, looking like that, he would be. "Sebastian Caine," he said in a proud, declarative voice.

Her jaw dropped open at the mention of that name. He was famous in magical circles. Or, rather, he was infamous. Everyone around London, at all of the local magic clubs, were talking about him. The undead son of the last high warlock, Maxwell Caine. He had last been spotted in America, in Connecticut, with the other infamous person everyone was talking about these days, Lily Bishop - the great-granddaughter of the Council leader, who had gone off the deep end and started cursing everyone in her town.

At the moment, Sebastian was at the top of the Council's most wanted list, second only to Lily Bishop. He was a fugitive from their custody and he was here, standing in front of her, like he was any other ordinary witch with an appointment in Her Ladyship's book.

"It's alright if you'd like to scream now. This is usually when that happens." His tone was very cordial. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that she had been attracted to him. He was a monster who had mutilated countless witches to steal their powers. Her own sister had been killed by a warlock for that very same reason. She let out a bloodcurdling screech, jumping up from her chair, which fell over behind her. She scrambled backwards, trying to put as much distance between them as was possible. Her hand found the shelf behind her. She felt around for something to help her defend against the warlock. Her fingers clutched the cool metal handle of the silver letter-opener. She held it out in front of her, as if it would do any good against someone with his immense powers. She had heard many rumors about the strange dark magic that flowed through his veins ever since he was brought back from the Other Side.

Just then, the double doors leading to her boss's office opened up. "What on earth is causing you to make such an ungodly racket out here, Beatrice?" Lady Camilla Lancaster van Horne asked. Her eyes immediately jumped to the murderous boy in the middle of the room. He spun on his heel to face her, holding his arms out wide, as if he were expecting an embrace. Well, he had another thing coming, Beatrice thought. Lady Camilla would deal with him, as only a witch of her caliber could.

But Beatrice was shocked when Camilla simply gave a resigned sigh and annoyed roll of her eyes. "I wish that you would stop introducing yourself to her every time you come here."

"I like seeing her reaction." Sebastian shrugged. "After dealing with Lily for so long I'd forgotten what true fear looked like in someone's eyes. She always just looked angry. This one, though. She is absolutely terrified of me. I can see the blood pumping faster through the veins in her neck as her heartbeat increases. Watch as her eyes dart back and forth, searching for an escape. It's rather glorious to behold."

Camilla groaned, turning to walk back into her office. "Would you kindly wipe her memory before we start? We need to discuss what happens next, since your ridiculous witch hunter plan failed miserably."

"It gave you an excuse to get the old lady, didn't it?" he called after her. "Have you killed her, yet?"

Camilla spun around and stalked back to grab the collar of his Sebastian's shirt, showing off even more of his toned chest. Beatrice pushed that thought away, she could not be attracted to him. He was a murderer. He was quite literally the prince of warlocks. Perhaps the king since his father had been struck down. Lady Camilla glared at Sebastian as she said, "You would be wise to stay out of things that aren't your affairs, you vile little snake," she spat.

"You haven't," he said, sounding amused. He cracked a half-smile, looking devilish. "I can smell it when there's murder marring a person's soul." He inhaled deeply through his nostrils. "You may reek of eau de parfum and desperation, but not of death."

Camilla huffed, releasing her hold on him. She cut her eyes to Beatrice for a moment, before looking back at Sebastian. "Take care of that, then meet me inside." She left him there, returning to her office.

Sebastian bowed his head, even though Camilla had her back to him and couldn't see it. He then looked over at Beatrice and the corner of his mouth twisted up into a half-smile, like before, but now it seemed much more menacing. He raised his hand out toward her, with a dramatic flourish palm up that she wasn't sure was entirely necessary.

Beatrice's eyes grew to twice their size upon seeing a tiny sphere of darkness appear above his hand. It steadily grew until it was about the size of a golf ball. With a lightning fast movement he flipped his hand around with his palm facing her and the ball rocketed toward her. She felt a deep sorrow as soon as the ball struck her in the chest. "Don't worry. You won't remember a thing." he said.

Beatrice smiled at the handsome boy, standing in the center of the room. "M-may I help you?" she stuttered. She mentally kicked herself for being so tongue-tied around an attractive guy. Her face flushed with embarrassment and frustration.

He pointed toward Lady Camilla's open office doors. Beatrice smiled and nodded, anxiously. The boy was making her nervous, but she didn't want him to leave. He was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen in real life. At first he turned as if he were going to go into Lady Camilla's office, but then he stopped and looked back at Beatrice with an alluring half-smile that showed his sparkling white teeth. As he walked toward her, his crimson button down shifted around his body, showing off his well-built physique, which she knew was the reason he had worn it unbuttoned that way. He made a circular flourish with his left hand and she saw the flash of the red stone in the large ring her wore. When he held his hand up in front of her, there was a beautiful red rose bloom laying in his palm. "For you, for all the trouble." he said, tucking the flower behind her ear. He grabbed up her hand and kissed it. His lips were strangely cold against her skin, but she didn't care. His whole body could be the temperature of an icicle and she would still want him.

As soon as he walked through the doors of Her Ladyship's office, they swung shut behind him, leaving Beatrice alone in the room to fantasize about the dark and mysterious boy, whose name she didn't even know.