But the real beauties were two enormous oil paintings. One painted entirely in pastel colors with a pair of shadowy, semi-translucent figures in the center entitled, “A Walk with the Father.” The second was flanked in bold hues of red and orange surrounding a blue and black center, simply called, “Ramifications.”
“Must be some kind of pain or suffering.” Brooke cocked her head at the bold painting.
I stared at the pair of paintings, gnawing on my bottom lip. “You think? Maybe that Ramifications one could be, I guess.”
“Hey, Felicia,” Tony shouted across the gallery.
Bryan jerked back as a streak of green flashed toward us. His eyes rested on the auburn beauty in front of us.
“Hi, guys. Glad you’re here.” Her emerald dress matched her kitten eyes that stared right back at him. Her smile sagged as she smoothed down her hair. “Hectic night.”
Bryan wrapped one arm around her in a side-hug. “Your work looks great.”
Her eyes lit up at his touch, at his compliment. Somewhere deep inside, an old ember burned.
“I really couldn’t have asked for more. My pieces are professionally lit and displayed. The gallery even promoted this event well. I’ve talked to a ton of reporters. Not the Times or anything, just small markets. Still, it’s been a blast.”
“Way to go, Felicia.” Lenny cheered, pumping his fist over the crowd. “These are awesome.”
“Calm down.” With her tiny hands, Laura wrestled his arm down. “No need to cause a ruckus.”
“You’re no fun. Everyone likes a good ruckus now and then.” Lenny winked at me as if my traitor thoughts were written all over my face. He slung his arm over Felicia’s shoulder. “How about a teeny hubabaloo?”
Laura rolled her eyes, then burst out laughing. “Do you mean—” she said between giggles, “—you mean, hullabaloo?”
Lenny held his head high. “No, I mean hubabaloo. It’s my new word, like hubba-hubba, with the added bonus of a ruckus.”
“So you think my art is attractive?” Felicia narrowed her eyes at him.
“You bet. I’d say they’re quite something.” Lenny wriggled his way out from under her glare. I gulped back a laugh. “Especially those paintings.”
“Thank you, everyone.” Her face bloomed as red as her hair. “It’s an exciting night for me.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it.” Bryan rested his arm on her shoulder. She pressed her cheek against his hand, closing her eyes.
The ember inside me sizzled.
He patted her head, then slid his hand back. “What’re friends for?”
She flinched, turning a catty glare on me. “I better get going. My dad wants to do a celebration dinner. Thanks for coming guys, I’ll see you at school.”
Felicia waved goodbye and headed for the stairs, toward a man in black-framed glasses with salt-and-pepper temples. A strange silver necklace gleamed from his neck—a pyramid pendant with an oval in the middle.
My next breath beat against the bars of my ribcage. An image flashed in my mind, of him dressed in all black.
Felicia kissed his cheek. How did she know him? He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, smiling down at her almost like a father would.
I backed up, right into the wall. My fingertips bumped against the corner of Felicia’s painting, Ramifications. The canvas warmed at my touch, growing hotter and hotter under my fingers.
“Ouch.” Wincing, I yanked my hand away and turned to face the painting. A tiny symbol glowed white-hot on the bottom white corner—a swirling eye inside a triangle, dashes radiating from the outer corners.
The same symbol on Felicia’s Dad’s necklace. A symbol that was burned into my skin.
Red and orange brush strokes blurred into oblivion until the colors burned like flames. A shriek almost ripped from my throat but some strange Latin words, the name for that symbol, screamed back at me. Signum Videns. Lack of oxygen blurred the gallery into splotches. Slowly, I sucked in a full breath.
The revelation finally eeked from my lips. “It’s the mark of the Seer.”
Chapter 22
“What about the Seer?” Like a knock on the door of my sanity, a gruff voice pulled me out of the fire, back into the real world. This time it was Tony’s pale face and dark brown eyes I stared into. He shook my shoulders, but his words barely registered. “Talk to me, Lucy.”
“I thought I saw ...” My finger traced the outline of the symbol on the painting, then swiveled to the stairs, his escape. “With Felicia.”
He examined the painting. “Felicia? Of course she’s not the Seer.”
I honked out an ungraceful snort. “No, not her. The guy with her. He had on a necklace, with a strange symbol.”
“You mean this one?” When I nodded, his forehead scrunched up like he didn’t believe me. Then his eyes widened, and he scratched his chin. “You know, now that you mention it, he did seem kind of familiar. Show me.”
Without a glance back at Bryan, or anyone else, I clutched Tony’s arm and dragged him down the stairs to the front door. We raced down the sidewalk, mauling through the crowd, until we hit the subway station.
“There.” I spotted a flash of green dress, aiming his head in their direction.
She brushed back her auburn hair, and the man pecked her cheek. A streetlight caught the silver, reflecting it back to us. It was only a profile shot, the necklace barely visible. Then they disappeared into the shadows.
Tony stopped two feet from the entrance, mouth dangling. “Okay, that was definitely the same symbol that you were branded with. Who was that guy with Felicia? He’s old enough to be her father.”
I thumped his shoulder. “Brilliant, Watson. My thoughts exactly.”
He shook his head back and forth, like a sad bobble-head staring down the gaping hole of the subway steps. “What’s so important about him? Why can’t I remember where I’ve seen him before?”
His questions huffed white clouds into the air. They thinned out, dissipating into the inky black sky. My insides squeezed into tiny knots, as the street noise filtered in and out, blurring into a dull roar.
“I think maybe…” I trailed off, my suspicions almost
