Redemption

PROLOGUE

A heavy fog hangs in the air, the fine mist of it coating the city of Seattle in a blanket of white mystery, and uneasy intrigue. It isn't necessarily unusual weather, especially at this time of year, but Brianna is fairly certain the fog hasn't ever been this thick before.

At least, not for a very, very long time.

She vaguely recalls a time, before the age of industrialism, when such weather wasn't uncommon at all. But those days have long since passed, and human ingenuity has a way of changing the world around them.

She still remembers the day the first settlers arrived, remembers how quickly her self imposed exile was forced to an end. She'd spent over a hundred years roaming what would later become the state of Washington alone, lost in a downward spiral of bitter hate and self revulsion. And then, from nowhere, a group of mortals appeared and everything was irrevocably changed.

Her perfect peace shattered, she'd been forced to learn how to live amongst men once more.

And it hadn't been as difficult as she would have thought.

No.

What was difficult, was just how many of her supernatural brethren had followed in humanity's wake. Men, she could handle, being a seer meant she could easily avoid sticky situations where mortals were concerned. But demons, angels, and all of the others of the preternatural ilk were a different beast altogether.

Still are, for that matter.

But she'd managed nonetheless.

A large part of her success probably has to do with how little she interacts with others. Up until recently, she'd always lived as far away from civilisation as possible, preferring the quiet of the forests to the hustle and bustle of the mortals cities and towns. Such places often called to the other kinds of immortals, and so it had been relatively easy to retain her solitude, for the most part, the further away from humanity she'd remained.

And she probably would have isolated herself for far longer, had she any real choice in the matter.

But, three years ago, her safe haven was shattered, ruined by the arrival of a creature she could not see. Had she foreseen his arrival, she could easily have avoided confrontation, well versed as she is in the art of illusion. But she hadn't, and the experience had left her entirely too shaken for comfort.

The whole situation had given her pause to think, and she'd realized a rather important truth. There's safety in numbers, and, secluding herself as she had for so long only endangered her immortal existence.

It'd been a hard pill to swallow at first, but by now she's plenty adjusted.

Happy, even, she might say.

When she'd fled here from Salem in 1696, she'd sworn never again to use her gifts for mortals. First hand she'd seen how easily mankind could turn on you the moment you tell them that which they don't want to hear, and as she'd fled she became determined to steel her bleeding heart against humanity, to never again interfere in the lives of mortals. Too weak willed, they were, and prone to corruption.

But in truth, that vow had been a crime against the oath she'd taken as a seer, and deep down, she'd felt lost and without purpose.

Eternity has a way of becoming dull without meaning, though she'd tried her best to ignore the longing for a reason to her existence.

But mortals nowadays are so open minded, so different from the mortals of that time, as she'd quickly discovered while integrating into modern society. Now, she owns a quaint little tarot shop, and nobody bats an eyelid about her ability to see into the future.

Granted, she knows that half the population probably considers her to be a quack, and a fraud. It hadn't taken her long to discover that modernity had robbed humankind of their superstitions, but she finds the general public's disbelief to be refreshing.

Honestly, the less people actually believe in the supernatural, the better. At least in her opinion. She gets to make a real difference in the lives of the few who do believe, and that's good enough for her.

She's even managed to make a few steadfast friends amongst her kind, not seers in particular, but immortal nonetheless. It seems that humanity aren't the only one's who have evolved, much to her genuine joy and surprise. Truthfully, she finds it amusing that immortals and mortals live so harmoniously together, and yet mortals are so entirely unaware of it.

Of course, that's not to say that all of her kind are so benevolent, nor can she claim that humans are no longer ever casualties to the cruelty that most immortals are naturally disposed to. But it certainly isn't anywhere near as bad as it once was, that much she can concede whole-heartedly.

Taking a sip of her tea, she sighs, realizing that it has grown cold. She might be tempted to brew another cup, but honestly, it might be time to go ahead and close up shop.

When the weather is like this, she doesn't get very many customers anyway. She thinks it might have something to do with how creepy the fog is, that something about it causes discomfort in the hearts of mortals. The idea causes her to smile wryly.

Even if they aren't truly aware of it themselves, mortals are right to be unsettled by such unnatural fog. It's clearly the influence of a higher level immortal. Not that this is of any real concern to her, however. So long as she keeps her head down, and stays out of their way, most higher immortals are keen enough to leave her be.

Seers are valuable commodities after all. There are only really a handful of them left in this world, making her a bit of an endangered species in the eyes of most immortals, higher or not.

As she locks up the shop, a sense of dread falls over her. She glances about, having long since learned never to ignore her instincts, but nothing seems amiss. She can't quite shake the feeling that someone or something is watching her however, and it makes the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention.

It isn't the first time she's experienced this sensation. As a matter of fact, it began nearly three weeks ago. Much like the creature which had invaded her sanctuary, she is unable to see whatever it is that is stalking her, but she knows it's there nonetheless.

She can sense it.

She isn't sure what it wants, or why it's watching her, so the fact that it hasn't attacked is little consolation.

What she does know, is that only the safety of her apartment above the shop will ease her fear, as the creature has yet to become bold enough to follow her there. Regularly she burns sage and maintains the protective talismans, the latter of which were gifts from her witch friend, Marie.

The bubbly witch had been the first person that Brianna had turned to when whatever this is had begun, and Marie had long since learned to trust her seer friend's intuition.

She'd quickly whipped up a few bonecharms, and provided Brianna with them. It had warmed the witch's heart to know that the taciturn seer had come to her in her hour of need.

With one final glance around the shop, Brianna retreats to the safety of her home.

The stairs leading up feel lengthier than ever, and as she ascends, she can't help but feel as if her tormentor is waiting for something.

But what?