Dark Sight Page 4

“What did you see?” His tone was insistent now.

  Allegra shook her head and inhaled, the sound harsh in her throat. “It shouldn't matter anyway. You said I was a charlatan.”

  She gave a bitter smile.

  His jaw tightened and he glared at her. Faced with his ire, Allegra forced her voice not to shake.

  “What I saw isn’t something people want to hear.”

  His eyes widened. When faced with the possibility of someone seeing into your future, people tend to see things differently.

  Or so Allegra hoped.

  He didn’t respond, but his expression said she was out of choices. She had to speak. “You were dying. Boils all over your skin, lips bleeding, coughing up blood.”

  Allegra hesitated as the memory of the horror in her vision came back to her. She shook it off and looked up at the cop, her expression sad. “You will die a . . . horrible death.”

  The agent’s mouth dropped open. Then it closed again, whatever he’d planned on saying evaporating at the expression on her face.

  Silence echoed around the room and Allegra felt a little deflated now. She was still upset at their accusations, but didn’t think it was worth complaining to their superiors about her treatment.

  Not now.

  Allegra forced her limbs to obey and turned slowly. She walked to her front door, and opened it with a tug, her hands still shaking. She waited there, still and unmoving, until the two agents walked reluctantly toward her.

  “I’d like you to leave please,” she said, tired from the vision, tired of the haunting memories of all the things she’d seen in the last few days.

  They exchanged a doubtful glance, a silent consideration of what to do next in light of her horrific prediction. Allegra entertained a short horrible possibility that they’d arrest her for resisting their questioning, but she was pretty sure that was illegal without a warrant.

  Besides, they both looked far too unnerved.

  Whatever passed between them Allegra would never know.

  Then they walked past her, both men pasting on practiced, formal smiles, pausing only long enough on the threshold for Blond to say, “You will have no more trouble with us as long as you stop with your scam. We don’t suffer charlatans in our jurisdiction.”

  The power of his threat was lost as his voice shook uncertainly. He’d taken her vision to heart. More than Allegra had expected, given his accusations and harsh attitude toward her since he’d walked in the door.

  Then they were walking down the stairs, leaving Allegra furious that they still hadn’t paid attention to her words.

  Or her warning.

  Fear tainted Allegra’s thoughts, and a bubble of nausea rose within her as she slammed the door, bolted it and walked to the living room on unsteady legs.

  Blood rushed through Allegra’s head, her emotions a maelstrom of worry and helplessness. Feeling the need to cool off, in more than just the metaphorical sense, she hurried upstairs to her bedroom, and dragged off her clothing, not caring that she sent her skirt flying into a corner. Right now, a swim seemed to be in order.

  Water always made her feel better, so maybe it would calm her down.

  Allegra rummaged in her closet for her bathing dress. Justifying its astronomical price, it definitely ticked the beautiful box; swathes of draped fabric that repelled water, wrapping their way around her curves. It ended in an irregular-hem, gauzy half-skirt that reached one knee and left the other bare.

  She’d chosen the swimsuit in direct opposition to the new fashion touted by the popular Vestal Virgins. There was nothing virginal about the Vestal Virgins, from the way they partied, to the men they spent time with. Despite their questionable morals, it seemed too many girls wanted to be like them, and too many men wanted to be with them.

  Their idea of a swimsuit was a narrow piece of silk that covered the boobs and crotch, and not much else.

  Vestal Virgins indeed.

  They’d been touting the ultra-revealing swimwear range of a popular designer, but Allegra and Xenia had refused to follow in their wake. Not that she ever did anything because it happened to be popular, or touted by the press.

  Allegra had never aspired to easy popularity, or to follow the latest fad. Perhaps it was because she’d grown up on the edges of society. Acceptable, but not quite rich or beautiful enough to become a part of any important circles.

  Her father, Aleks Damascus, hadn’t come from money. He’d made his fortune in real estate, building in a few years what many of the founding families had taken decades or even generations to accumulate.

  Still, as successful as he had been, he’d never been welcomed into the fold. It hadn’t mattered. Not to Allegra and her family, nor to those people who’d been their true friends.

  Allegra grabbed a towel and headed outside. Her private balcony led one flight down to a marble patio, which in turn opened out onto the teal blue waters of the main swimming pool. She’d always loved the pool, had felt it quite stunning especially as it often matched the blue of the heaving ocean beyond it.

  The pool had been Allegra’s only extravagance after both her parents had died. Built like the ancient baths, it was tiled with pure white, gold-veined marble, its interior painted a deep teal.

  Allegra dropped her towel on a lounger and strode straight to the edge. Without missing a beat, she propelled off the edge of the pool using her toes, launched into the air and curved into a swan dive, neatly slicing through the surface of the water with barely a splash.

  The water swallowed her whole, taking her deeper into its womb, safe and secure. Water had always felt the safest place in her world. Beneath the surface was silence and peace, more so now that she felt bombarded by everything around her. The visions were a persecution that she wasn’t sure she could endure. Not long enough to learn how to handle them and still remain sane.

  She sank lower, almost sitting on the bottom of the pool, staring up at the surface above, her hair spreading around her head like a golden halo. The water caught the sunlight and sparkled, as if she was floating inside a universe of suns. Heavenly peace at last. Calm cocooned her body and mind.

  She so loved the depths of the pool that over the years she’d trained herself to hold her breath longer and longer, enabling her to remain submerged for extended periods of time.

  Just as she was beginning to enjoy the serenity, the sound of whispering shattered her peaceful calm. Allegra straightened, the shock making her lungs tighten. She scanned the pool around her, but she was still the only occupant.

  But there, again, she heard the whispers, like a thousand voices all vying to be heard.

  And then one sentence grew clearer. “It all depends on you.” It seemed to call desperately to her from within the maelstrom of chattering voices.

  “It all depends on you, daughter. Persevere, child.”

  The voice was clearer now, almost familiar. Excitement rippled through Allegra and she felt that when she turned around she’d see the owner of that voice. She spun in the water, swiping her hair away as it floated against her face. But still the pool remained as empty as it had been when she’d last checked it, clear sparkling water occupied only by Allegra herself.

  And the voice echoed in her ears. “Do not fail. Do not let them discourage you, child. Stay the path. It all depends on you.”

  Allegra shook her head, her lungs tightening as air escaped without being replaced. But she wasn’t ready to exit the water.

  Not yet, not until she figured out what this voice meant.

  But even as she spun around in search of the speaker, even as she strained to hear the woman speak again, Allegra knew the voice had gone.

  Her lungs tightened and at last Allegra was forced to give up her wait. She kicked to the surface, breaking through in a frantic splash. She gulped in air, filled her lungs, then sank deep into the water again. But though she waited as long as she could, she heard nothing else.

  Not even the strange scratching whispers.

  At last,
Allegra accepted the voice was gone, and rose to the surface despondently. She’d had such a sense of knowing when she’d heard the voice that she’d desperately wanted to see the speaker, and as illogical as it sounded, given that she’d been submerged, to talk to her.

  She wiped water from her eyes, then swam to the edge of the pool facing the ocean and propped her elbows onto the side, aware for the first time how chilled her skin was. The intense blue of the sky had turned dull, the dark clouds now scudded overhead.

  The weather seemed to reflect Allegra’s inner turmoil.

  The warm stone of the pool’s edge sent heat deep into her skin and Allegra sighed. From her position, she could see the wide expanse of the sea, and a narrow stretch of beach below the clifftop on which her parents had built their home.

  But none of that beauty had any effect on Allegra. All her mind could wrestle with was that voice.

  Who was the speaker?

  What could the message mean?

  Coming so close on the heels of the terrible visions she’d been having, the voice made Allegra afraid now, instead of comforted.

  She had the most awful sense that from here on out, things were just going to get worse.

  Chapter 6

  Knowledge is often its own special kind of torture.

  Sitting at his desk, Maximus Vissarion clenched his fingers into fists, the tendons in his hands tightening dangerously. Frustration wasn’t going to help the situation but at least it gave Max’s restless energy an outlet.

  Just enough to redirect the feeling of utter helplessness.

  With the body of the Pythia Aurelia barely cold, the States’ Governing Council was in an uproar, at a loss as to what to do about the prospect of the world’s impending doom.

  It all sounded so morbid and yet it was the frightening reality.

  Max pushed to his feet, ignoring his chair as it skidded across the fake marble tiles of the FAPA office floor.

  His movement drew the attention of a couple of his subordinates who turned to watch through the open doorway for his instruction. He got to his feet, headed out of his office and curled his finger, beckoning the entire team to follow him.

  This kind of information was best shared in private.

  He’d received the okay from his superiors to bring his team up to speed, but the situation was so precarious that they had to take precautions to avoid a countrywide panic.

  Inside the meeting room, Max headed to the shallow platform and sat on one of the pairs of seats. He’d always hated the low throne-like chairs that resembled the old Roman Caesars’ stools, but tradition was sacrosanct within the agency, so Max had little choice.

  Unlike the boardrooms of more senior FAPA officials, Max’s meeting room possessed no table. He’d always felt less official rooms like this helped to foster discussion and cooperation.

  So far it had worked.

  The rest of the team took seats on stone benches lining the walls, and Max studied them with a critical eye. Probably a good thing full togas weren’t required here, although the swag of purple fabric over every left shoulder was showy enough.

  Max raised a hand, a gesture that immediately settled the team. They all looked at him expectantly. As serious as the situation was, the urge to laugh almost got the better of him. He didn’t think his team was expecting the kind of news he was about to deliver.

  Max cleared his throat. “I have some . . . bad news for you. I want to warn you though. Everything I say within this room is top secret. And let me assure you that anyone who causes panic will be severely disciplined.”

  As if that matters, considering we’ll all be dead soon.

  He got to his feet and focused on the worried expressions of his team. “I’ve just come from a Council meeting. According to multiple, and reliable predictions, we have a major epidemic coming. We’ve been conducting tests all around the world, hoping to identify the source, but as yet there has been no sign of its origins. Unfortunately, none of the seers were powerful enough to provide us with as specific information as we could have obtained from a Pythia.”

  Max began to pace as he spoke, his restless feet refusing to allow him to stand still. His words seemed to have sucked out the air in the room and he wanted to inhale deeply to rid himself of the suffocating feeling. But he refused to show his team how affected he was.

  Agents in Max’s senior position were meant to be resilient, unaffected by catastrophe and tragedy.

  He cleared his throat. “All testing in the New Germanic States has come up negative. At least, as far as we know. But this threat is so dire that I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest to share what information they have.”

  Max slowed his pacing to face his team. “Not everyone agrees with my view. The situation as it stands is one filled with theory and rhetoric. As well as suspicion. The Code 8 states, because of their germ warfare and biological research status, all suspect each other. The only good thing is they’ve agreed to suspend all experimentation and production of artificial viruses and germs for the next five years. But even so, it doesn't change what’s happening right now.”

  Max studied the now-somber faces of his team. They weren’t liking his news.

  No surprise there.

  A few raised their hands but Max sighed. “I know this is hard to take in, but let me get through the whole thing and then I’ll answer questions.”

  He went back to his seat, but sitting felt too much like he was doing nothing. He faced them again. “All pharmaceutical companies and nutrient supplement production companies have had government overseers allocated, so be aware that some of you may be reassigned temporarily.”

  A rumble of dissatisfaction emanated from the seated agents. Max chuckled. “Makes little difference, people. As of today, everyone, every man, woman and child on this planet, have a matter of months to live. Possibly weeks - we won’t know for sure until we find something concrete that will provide a more accurate timeline. If we don’t locate and destroy this virus before it spreads, reassignment will be the least of our problems.”

  Max waved a hand, opening the floor to questions only because he knew his team would be filled with them and he could parse the rest of the details out a little at a time. Probably easier for them to absorb the bad news that way.

  Jerard Bax got to his feet. “Why are we not letting the general public know?”

  Max shook his head. “General Aulus thinks it would cause chaos, and I have to agree with him. Not even the senators have been told, this has to be kept within FAPA and a few other agencies who know to keep their mouths shut.”

  Flavius Lex, Max’s Senior Locator, frowned. “The government is not aware? Not even the President?”

  “Several other countries’ top agencies have been briefed, and the results are not encouraging. Almost everyone in the know is abandoning their duties. A few have delved in charitable activity, others are frantically collecting wealth, as if that will help when they are dead from disease. The majority, such as Senator Gallo have taken to wine and orgies with Vestal Virgins. And other women not so virgin.”

  That drew a round of sober chuckles from the team. “Even preparations for the next Games have been halted, as too many countries’ senators and backers have withdrawn to redirect their funds and energies elsewhere. But of course, the public is not told the real reasons.”

  Gallo had been a mistake. Aulus had made a judgment call, revealing the impending pandemic to the man, thinking he’d use his pull within the pharmaceutical industry to help the cause. Instead the man had gone off the rails. At least he’d kept the news to himself.

  So far.

  “So what else is being done?” asked Corina Brava, one of the two seers on his team. Although not of the same level of power as the late Pythia, she had made invaluable contributions to their investigations over the past five years. She did not look surprised at his news; he wondered if she too had seen something of what was coming, but he didn’t ask. If she’d had anything to
add, she’d have said as much.

  Max sighed. “Senator Calvinius has sunk a large budget into PharmaCorp to develop a vaccine.”

  “How could they do that, without access to the original virus? If it even is a virus.” Corina looked unimpressed.

  Flavius cleared his throat. “He’s been shackled by the Overseers I presume?”

  Max nodded. “Exactly. It’s more of a forlorn hope, and may do more harm than good.” The Code 8 Overseers were extremely vigilant when it came to infringement. “But whether he submits to the rules is something else altogether. The biggest problem right now is that we are chasing our tails.” Max hoped his voice wouldn't reveal how he really felt to his team.

  “Especially now that the last Pythia has died,” Marcus Asante said, the anger in his voice almost tangible.

  Marcus was Max’s second-in-command, the Senior Agent in charge whenever Max was out at meetings, visiting to the Pythia or in the field.

  Max nodded. Only a few days ago, Max had sat a vigil outside a small town in rural Argentina. The last descendant of the original Pythia, Aurelia, had been dying of old age, and her humble farm had been inundated with visitors from major governments from around the world, intent on witnessing her death and hoping she’d be well enough to give them a last prophecy of their own.

  Her decline and impending passing had been kept a secret from the general public in the hopes that the international press would not descend on the home and desecrate the moment of her death.

  To Max it had been emotionally taxing knowing that a line that had lasted nearly three millennia would forever come to an end. From all appearances, Apollo had nothing more to say to humans. His wisdom and advice were so desperately needed, and yet he remained silent. No wonder so many people were beginning to doubt his very existence.

  Max sighed and faced his team. “It’s unfortunate that Aurelia died without giving us any further wisdom, or a clue that would help us save humanity from this new threat. We are on our own from here on out, and we need to behave responsibly with what we know.”

  He scrutinized the faces of his team, no more assured as to their intentions as he’d been of the superiors who had briefed him and a few other division heads an hour ago. People were naturally frantic. Which was more harmful right now, than impending worldwide destruction.