The fourth book of the Vampire Flynn Series, Divided By Night, is scheduled for release on December 29, 2015. In it, we see the world as it is ten years after Fate of the Seer, but the road to our story contains many different people with many tales in their own right.
This one has been brought to you from the journal of Michael “Robin” O’Shane.
This is a special sneak peak into Book Four.
From the Journal of Michael O’Shane
January 17, 1989
It seems I often spend my life reliving thoughts and memories between the clacking noises of a train, something that occurs to me as I peer across Europe and watch the landscape slip past me like grains of sand. My disposition has been significantly heavier in recent days. Until now, I have wondered at the trajectory my eternal life has been hurtled toward, being alone again for the first time in decades. I sit. I read and I flip through dusty tomes attempting to unlock languages that have long since perished. I have languished in a world without much color to it, and I am only now realizing this.
When I rose yesterday, I did so in Bucharest, surrounded by immortals in mourning that have been transitioning leadership from one coven master to another. I have done my best to aid their endeavor with the limited experience I have serving under Sabrina, knowing that once, it was my goal to become the head of our house. They have expressed their gratitude by giving me my books and my solitude, but something has been missing. Something I could not have placed a finger on yesterday except to note the listlessness in my spirit.
Last evening, however, I received a phone call that changed everything. And today, I am headed home to Ireland, to see the man I love.
I doubt I’ll say that to his face, coward that it makes me. I have been so well trained at biting back emotion and repressing heartfelt sentiment, both as an act of self-preservation and to protect others from the viscous wrath of my now-dead maker. Even to write those words feels strangely detached. Gone and perished, Mary ‘Sabrina’ Ravensdale. Never to walk this mortal coil again. She cost me Ilya and Timothy. Demetrius.
Flynn, in some regards.
But before that, she claimed Patrick from me and I had been a fool to allow her.
A part of my soul fears letting go of my guard. Surrendering to the impulse to lose myself in another after so many disappointments. I wish I could recapture the man who first emerged from immortality with nothing but hope for the future, but I have lived enough of a life that gas lamps have become streetlights and carriages have become cars. That young vampire I once was saw the world as a story yet to be written, but a century has left me jaded. Not ready to give up on life altogether, but cautious of its lures and snares. I want to see my old friend and say I am sorry. Sorry for going back to Sabrina. Sorry for each and every time he and I have lain together and I have lapsed into old stories rather than considering future plans.
I want to hope, but truth be told, I am tired and afraid.
My oldest and dearest friend, who was wronged by Sabrina before she had even sired me, has been a constant in my immortal existence, to the point that his absence blotted out some of the color in my life. My adventures with Peter gave me purpose for a time and for a time, I could embrace the antics of a world in which I do not belong. Perhaps that has been the problem as of late. I sank back into what was familiar and until the phone rang, I failed to see why life has felt so hollow. Without listing his name, I have missed Patrick, and now I am on my way to him again. And now, I am utterly petrified.
We share a past, but there is a future. We have weathered scars, but surely those can mend. We have been through hell, but I still love him and I pray that he can see past my indiscretions to care about me again. I hope when I see him tomorrow evening, I still see the light he has for me in his eyes, a beacon that has been present throughout most of my vampire years.
And perhaps one day, I can trust my lot in life enough to show him the light in mine.
An áit is áil le do chroí, leanfaidh do chosa.