Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (universal ebook reader txt) 📗

I couldn’t help my wince, though I didn’t disagree.

Ember patted Cole’s dark arm soothingly before turning large, cinnamon-colored irises on Seke. Her soft features were streaked and splotched in red, showcasing her grief in a way the others had not. She’d regenerated and returned to the bunker moments after the rest of the team had crossed the threshold. She was still processing the fact that she would never see her friend again. “If you knew Jessica was going to die, why wouldn’t you warn us?”

Had he known?

All eyes turned toward the captain, the god of death. He must have seen hope mingled with accusation as his attention bounced to land on each member in turn. We all held our breath, waiting for his response. “No. I do not know who I will ferry until they meet their mortal end. There is much blame we could place for this tragedy, but really, we need to learn from this instance.”

“You’re seriously going to turn this into a teachable moment?” Raven scoffed with derision. Her already short fuse was getting really close to the point of detonation, and before Seke tried applying logic into the all-too emotional atmosphere, it had only been aimed at me. Now, he would be within the blast radius.

Knowing anything I said at that point would only fan her ire, I decided to keep my trap shut. At least, I actually could in this instance. We’d been trying to work on my banshee skills, but without being in proximity of death, it was an impossible task.

“We have learned two things, each very important,” Seke went on, either not noticing or, more likely, thinking his information would change the emotional tide. “While we knew there were two targets, Aria’s vision upon our arrival at the prison only alluded to one. The second happened during the inciting moment.”

“Because she’s defective!” Raven pointed accusingly back at me without turning away from Seke.

“We do not know a lot about banshee abilities. There are none to ask except this one.” Seke, too, pointed in my direction.

I really wanted to pipe up about being referred to as “this one,” reduced to no more than my supernatural classification, but I refrained. Now was not the time.

“That said, the other interesting fact we learned through this tragedy,” he said, tacking on the appeasement when he noticed the steam emanating from Raven’s ears, “is that she can foretell not only human deaths but supernaturals’ as well.” He stood beseechingly, arm still stretched in my direction as if willing the rest of us to agree, to see what a miracle the notion was.

Raven, not moved by his words, pushed her small frame into Seke’s space. Craning her neck to stare down our leader, the image should have conjured a comedic response. After all, what could one little Raven shifter do to a big, bad god? But at that moment, laughter was the furthest thing from my mind. I thought the little sociopath just might try her hand at killing a god... and succeed.

“Enough,” Seke boomed, his tenuous hold on calmness virtually snapping like a dry twig under Raven’s brazenness.

Shadows gathered and swirled around his lean figure, a swelling cloud of infernal retribution as he stared back at Raven’s defiant form. The air seemed heavier, weighing down on my body, making even sitting upright daunting. Despair leaked into my psyche, making me feel like I just wanted to give up, to leave, to fade away to nothing…

“You will disband. We all need some time to deal with our loss. Find somewhere else to be until this evening when we will reconvene for a proper remembrance and celebration of life for our dearest Jessica.”

When Raven opened her mouth, shadows swirled to wrap around her head like a gag, twisting and tightening until no sound escaped and her overlarge eyes bulged, which Seke took as agreement.

“Go, now. Rest. Recharge. We will speak later.”

Feeling the menace in the air, no one argued with the order, each working against the heavy pressure to stand then file through the open kitchen doorway. My other three teammates gravitated toward one another, Cole’s arms wrapping to envelop his girls in a strong and reassuring embrace as they trudged off together.

The air cleared, lightening again to a tolerable level as I, too, moved to exit the space and leave Seke to his own company. We all had a lot to think about. I would probably go hide in a pillow for a bit before I sucked it up like a big girl and decided where to go from here.

“Don’t let this discourage you,” Seke implored softly.

Looking back over my shoulder, I noticed he still stood rooted to his spot in the center of the area as if he was a natural extension of the wood flooring upon which he stood.

“You are wanted.”

A small, sardonic smile touched my lips. “Sure, Boss.”

Even if he wanted me to stay, the others didn’t. And they would win. A team only worked in cohesion. I was a kink in the hose, a knot in the thread, a screaming banshee in the Harbingers of Death Prison Unit.

“It might be time for me to move on,” I said.

Before I let him reel me in and lure me into a false sense of safety and wantedness, I forced my feet to walk away.

I planned to do what Seke asked, to spend the day ruminating on my emotions, my options. But I was exhausted. The mission had frayed my nerves from the get-go, and I hadn’t slept more than a few hours in over a week. I decided a nap was in order. Then, I’d tackle the big issues of how to proceed with my life. If everything in life happened for a reason, the way it was meant to, maybe this was my cue to leave.

I still needed answers about my tattoo, and after today, maybe I didn’t want to be a banshee. If someone could repair and repower the binding runes on my tattoo, I