Scryer Read online

  Scryer

  by

  Sinden West

  Copyright@ 2015 Sinden West

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher except

  for the use of brief quotations in a book review

  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design (www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk)

  Editing by Chelsea Kuhel at Madison Seidler (www.madisonseidler.com)

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Prologue

  The leaves crunched underfoot as he walked deeper into the trees. Mottled light stole in between the now sparse leaves that still clung stubbornly to the branches. He found her immediately. His men had covered her with a blanket. The color was a rich red, and he nearly found himself smiling. She would hate it. Of all the colors in the world, red was the one that she hated the most.

  Crouching down and steeling himself, he reached for the edge of the blanket and pulled it back to reveal all of her form. He let out a breath that he didn’t know that he was holding. She was intact. Her pale skin was unmarred except for the vicious red stripe across her throat that had stolen her life.

  His men had poured water over her to wash the blood away, and for that, he was thankful. Slowly and carefully, he arranged the blanket over her so she was covered once more.

  “Not long now,” he whispered to her, before standing and brushing stray leaves from his clothes.

  To his men, who waited a small distance away, he called, “Take her. It’s time.”

  Chapter One

  I am a scryer.

  It is my name and my talent.

  I can peer into the flat surface of water or mirrors and see the future or the past as if spun for me by mischievous sprites or cruel devils. In another century, I would have been burned at the stake. Brutal bindings would have cut into my skin as I choked on rising smoke while flames licked at me with vicious teeth. My flesh would melt as the blaze climbed higher and the crowd would hiss with hatred and chant “witch, witch, witch” to drown out my screams…

  “Here it is!” My roommate, Penzance, the daughter of two musical fanatics, stepped forward with a bowl of water. She liked bowls, just as I liked boxes, and this particular bowl was green with porcelain fairies melded around the edges, staring down at the water to see their own reflections. I wondered if she had brought it with her. It seemed too tacky and cheap to belong to this luxury cabin her friends partied in for the long weekend.

  “Ivy’s going to tell us our future.” She set the bowl down on the floor in front of the fire. Even though it was the end of summer, the cold bit hard this high in the mountains. The water in the bowl rippled, and the flames of the fire were reflected in its depths. Penzance was sweet; a little too bubbly and eager to please perhaps, but she’d be all right. Her future showed a charming banker husband and two sweet, chubby twins.

  Sometimes I was so jealous of futures like that that I could nearly be sick.

  Someone laughed. “Yeah, right,” he sneered. I didn’t bother to turn my head. I was used to non-believers. These people at the cabin, these friends of Penzance, they weren’t the type to believe, and it didn’t bother me. They were enjoying their post-college experience where drinking and sex ruled over all else. “Where’s her crystal ball?”

  Penzance rolled her eyes. “Shut up. Ivy’s talented. She can use anything.”

  Maybe I should have been angry at Penzance for divulging things that I had told her in secrecy, but it was my own fault. I knew what she was like and she was harmless. Plus, she liked me, which was rare. My weirdness and coldness put people off. The only other person who had ever taken to me so easily was Lake, but as I found out later, his motives weren’t pure. My trust wouldn’t be given that readily ever again, but Penzance was different. What I saw in her was all that there was.

  Penzance’s friends were spread about the living area of the cabin, which wasn’t really a cabin, but more of a luxurious home built in a log style. Some lounged on cushions on the floor in front of the fire, and all were drunk, myself included. Drinking helped with the visions; it helped to dull my reaction to the horror that I sometimes saw.

  “Go on, witch, tell us the future.”

  My eyes darted up in a flash to the guy who had spoken and a shiver went down my spine. He had never spoken to me before, but I knew who he was, of course. His family owned this cabin. Caleb was cursed with good looks, and used them to his advantage. He had probably slept with every available girl here…at least several over the long weekend alone.

  “Don’t call her a bitch,” Penzance told him, looking pissed, but maybe that was because he had screwed her once and never been back for seconds. A spark of happiness went through me anyway that Penzance was sticking up for me, not that I needed anyone to fight my battles of course, but still; it was nice. She really wanted her friends to like me and include me as part of her crowd. Thus far, I’d resisted, and her friends had kept their distance.

  “He didn’t,” said the girl who was lying on the cushions at his side. “He called her a witch.” Her hand trailed down his chest to the edge of his t-shirt, ducking under at his waist to touch his skin.

  “Oh.” Penzance settled herself down on a cushion. “I guess that’s okay.” She reached for her paper cup to take another swig of her drink. Most of the attention in the room wasn’t on me; the majority of them were more interested in their drinks or with whom they would hook up that night.

  “C’mon, witch. What’s the hold up?” Caleb continued. I kept my face like stone. I had heard that he was an asshole, and I wouldn’t be provoked.

  “Someone needs to ask me to read for them. I won’t do it unsolicited,” I answered simply.

  His lips twisted up into a smirk. “Do me then.” His blue eyes watched me as he seemingly ignored the girl next to him whose hands were roaming over his body. I doubted that if it were up to her that he would be clothed much longer.

  I turned my own gaze to the bowl. The ripples had settled and now it was still and calm…but no visions appeared. I watched it carefully. I knew that my outward appearance showed nothing but a still and icy shell, however, inside, my heart beat rapidly with excitement like it did every time I met someone that I was not cursed with reading.

  “There’s nothing for you,” I told him, never removing my eyes from the bowl. This was a rare occurrence, but not unheard of. I couldn’t read my own future or other scryer’s, and the members of the Circle were unreadable except for when we were performing the ritual, and of course then it was only to answer their questions to satisfy their greed. But on occasion, we would come across some ordinary people who were unreadable, their secrets locked away. I had thought Lake was one of these, but of course, he wasn’t. Now I knew how to tell that I was in the presence of a Circle member, I didn’t then. Caleb wasn’t blocking me. I just had no ability to read him, and that was a beautiful thing.

  “Caleb’s going to die!” a girl yelled out, her drunken glee undisguised. Her past appeared to me. She was one of his forgotten conquests, bitter and ignored.

  “No,” I said sharply. “Sometimes people are unreadable.” I would often see death in the future…this was not the case here
.

  “Do me,” said the girl feeling up Caleb. She didn’t bother to look in my direction. “Tell me my future. My tonight future.” She wasn’t really speaking to me, her words were directed toward him, but his eyes were firmly on me.

  “Go on, tell Stacy’s future,” he said.

  I waited a beat for her to correct him, but she didn’t. “Her name’s Stella.”

  His lips flicked into a quick smile. “Whatever,” he mouthed at me.

  I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to give him a look of disgust. Instead I looked in the water. Like always, a fog unseen by all but me brewed there, gradually clearing to reveal Stella’s future. I saw many things…love, sadness… I even saw her own death which would be premature but not for years yet. There was heartbreak before that…the death of a child and divorce…but I would not tell her that. No one ever wanted to hear that news; they only wanted hope.

  “You’ll become an editor at a major publishing house,” I began, and it was hard to ignore the smile that spread across her face. “One of your daughters will be a ballerina with a French company. You’ll sit in a balcony seat and watch her in Swan Lake.” An image flashed of that same daughter dying in a horrific car accident, but I forced a smile and tried to block it out. “Your husband will be a doctor; he’ll be important in cancer research.” That same husband was naked and sweaty in a hotel room with a work colleague while she desperately tried his cellphone to tell him that their daughter was in critical condition and would not make it through the night. I kept that smile frozen on my face. “And,” I said, my voice hoarse now with emotion, “you’ll have a horse. You’ll ride him every weekend.” That same horse would throw her to the ground, breaking her neck.

  The girl’s attention was on me now. Caleb was forgotten as she raised herself up from the cushions. “Wow. I hope that’s all true.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block everything else and clear my mind. This always happened; no one ever had a perfect life. While there were nearly always joyful occasions, there were always nearly twice as many bad things happening. That was life: filled with good, and twice as much bad.

  A wave of sickness and dizziness came over me, and I clutched my head for a moment before getting to my feet. The bathroom was down a corridor at the rear of the cabin, and as I headed in that direction, I heard whispers behind me. That was okay, though. I was used to it. My whole life others had picked up on how weird I was—I learned quickly not to fight against it and pretend to be something that I’m not. It was easier that way. Who needed friends when you could see the devastation that lay ahead? How could you be happy for someone getting engaged when you saw what a cheating troll her partner would be just a few short years down the line?

  Men, though, were different. Men were attracted to me. I was tall and thin, an easy feat when some of the things that I saw made me too sick to eat. I didn’t flirt or play games like other girls, and for some reason they liked that. Sometimes, I would take one to bed, try to block out everything, and just enjoy the pleasure. But that never happened. All too soon, the things that he had done in his past or would do in his future, would overcome me as I caught sight of some reflective surface, so I would just lie there while they thrust into me, oblivious to the turmoil within me.

  Consequently, whenever I found a man I could not read, I would take him to my bed.

  That is why, as I leaned over the toilet bowl vomiting, my thoughts were on the arrogant Caleb. I couldn’t read him and that made my mind spin with possibilities. If I could touch him and have nothing come through to me, then for a short moment, I could engage in normal activity just like any other girl my age. As his hands searched my body, then I could just enjoy the touch, the feeling, without it being tinged with anything sinister…

  I pushed myself back from the toilet once everything had been purged from me and rested my head against the cold tile. Fuck this, fuck living like this…if I could block everything out, then I could live like bubbly Penzance and her self-absorbed friends. Groaning, I got to my feet and turned the shower on before shrugging off my clothes and stepping under the spray, which was surprisingly strong for being in the middle of nowhere. But I guessed that the rich didn’t put up with anything mediocre. Although, was I not one of them as well? It was easy to forget about the wealth that my mother had accumulated from her lover before their deaths and now sat in a trust fund for me. My mouth twisted at the thought.

  I began to lather the soap and wash myself as the door banged open. I didn’t jump, merely turned my head to see who the intruder was. Caleb met my eyes as he stood over the toilet, undoing his fly and letting out a steady stream of urine. I stopped washing and just stared at him. Eventually, his eyes moved from my face to drag down my body. They seemed to take in every inch of me, appraising and measuring my worth. If I hadn’t been naked already, the way he was looking at me certainly would have made me feel like it.

  When he had apparently finished his study of me, he merely zipped up his fly and flushed the toilet before leaving the bathroom with without a word. I resumed washing myself, letting my hands massage my breasts and wondering what it would be like to have him touch me there without seeing images of the asshole things that he had done.

  He was an asshole, pure and simple, but that didn’t bother me. I just didn’t want to have to witness in full color the pain that he had caused. Innocence would be bliss. I let my hand slip down between my legs and half-heartedly stroked myself. How nice it would be to take pleasure from another…I giggled at my desperation, and my coldness. Sometimes I felt like I was a piece of ice and anyone who touched me would turn black and perish. But I had to be like that—the alternative would crush me. If I let everything I saw in, then I would have ebbed away slowly over the years until I was nothing but a living corpse with a fucked up mind.

  I finished my shower with no further interruption, but I didn’t feel clean. Instead, I just felt dirty with the thoughts that ran through my head. I wanted sex, I wanted touch, and I wanted it now. I sighed as I wrapped my towel around me. There were a dozen guys here who could do what I wanted, but the pleasure for me would disappear the minute I caught sight of any shiny surface, mirror, or the like. I gathered my clothes together in a bundle and exited the bathroom. All I heard now were low murmurs coming from the living room. The party must have broken up. These guys had been drinking for two days straight and no doubt the staying power for some of them was succumbing to the need to sleep. I started up the staircase and headed for the room that Penzance and I were sharing, but before I could open the door, the sound of her flirtatious giggle and a man’s deep voice drifted toward me. I sighed and stilled my hand; no doubt Penzance would be occupied for the rest of the night, and there was no way that I would creep into the single bed adjacent and pretend not to hear.

  Footsteps behind me made me turn.

  “Nice shower?” Caleb asked as he finished climbing the stairs. A smirk played on his features as he took in my half-naked situation. I lifted my chin and faced him head on. It was now or never, he was alone. I could use him for my needs and would never need to acknowledge or think about him again.

  Penzance giggled again and the guy with her laughed. Caleb gave a nod. “You don’t want to intrude? My room’s this way.” He nodded with his head toward a half open door before he made his way in. I watched him, hating his cockiness, but loving the way he made it so easy. I let my clothes drop in a pile at the door of the room that I was meant to be sharing with Penzance.

  He was waiting on the bed when I entered. He lay up against the headboard in only jeans, exposing his chest and abs that showed how obsessed he was with himself. It took a lot of gym time to look like he did. I went to take a step closer, but then I spied the large mirror attached to the dresser. Closing the door behind me, I let my towel fall from around me before I placed it over the mirror, just in case.

  “You don’t like seeing yourself fuck?” Caleb asked as he sipped his beer. I didn’t answer him; there wa
s no need. This was supposed to be only a way of satisfying my carnal needs. There was no point in engaging in chit-chat. I walked over to him, making no attempt to cover my nakedness because there was no reason to. He had already seen all of me, and I was never one of those girls who would act like they were ashamed of something when in fact they were proud…and I liked my body. I ran every day and my slim thighs were muscled and my bottom tight. I was only twenty-two, and my full breasts were in their prime — pert and firm. In terms of beauty, my body rivaled his.

  If he were impressed, he didn’t let it show, but then a guy like him wouldn’t. I climbed up on the bed on my hands and knees, but I wasn’t being submissive. If anything, I felt like a tiger or some other vicious creature on the prowl and ready to attack. Submission, being the faux reluctant damsel about to be seduced: none of that suited me. I was open about what I wanted.

  I didn’t bother meeting Caleb’s eyes, merely plucking the beer bottle from his hand and taking my own drink before placing it down on the bedside table. Then my hand went to his shoulder, and I gave him a hard push so that he lay flat on his back. Laughing in surprise, he went with the momentum and didn’t put up any kind of fight. That annoyed me slightly. I was in the mood for a fight, to draw blood if necessary. I straddled him swiftly, sitting just above his groin as I let my hand run along the sculpted muscle that he must have worked so hard at. I knew his eyes were on me, even though I didn’t bother to look at his face. I let my fingers lightly circle his nipples that were already rock hard. They were delicious, and I was tempted to put one in my mouth and play with it. But instead, I gripped one and twisted.

  He hissed. “You witch.”

  Only then did I meet his eyes, allowing a small smile to cross my face. “Shh,” I whispered. “I don’t want you to speak. You’re only here to serve my needs.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise, before letting his face relax into a lazy smile. “By all means, use me.” He wasn’t used to girls like me. He was used to flirty, eager-to-please types— girls like Penzance who thought they were there to serve instead of to rule.