Damian's Oracle (5 page)

Damian breathed in her scent, brutally aware
that all that lay between her tight little body and him was a long
t-shirt. He’d never been mistaken for a gentleman, but the woman
shimmered with a sweet, pure aura that made him feel obliged to
behave. Her turquoise eyes had been so lost and confused, he
couldn’t help but take pity on her.

Her eyes shimmered with more than tears –
they swirled with silver, the way the eyes of ancient oracles did.
He’d not seen anything like her since he sat in his father’s court
as a child.

“You’re safe,” he told her.

She sighed. With her large, two-toned eyes,
flawless skin, and long, straw-colored hair, she resembled a doll.
Hers was a cool beauty, and her gaze belied intelligence. That she
was an oracle was fantastic. A
sexy
oracle? Nothing short of
miraculous!

“She ok?” Han asked.

Damian heard the laughter in his voice. None
of his men had ever seen a human woman throw herself into
his
arms. His own Guardians stayed out of arms reach of him,
and humans picked up and ran.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, drawing
away.

To his surprise, she’d passed out. He scooped
her up and placed her on the bed, gaze sweeping over her toned,
shapely frame. He felt unusually protective of the small,
vulnerable human on the bed before him. Not sure what to make of
her, he led Han out and closed the door.

“I think know the answer, but do we have any
records that survived the Schism?” he asked, moving away from the
door.

“Is she ok?” Jake asked anxiously.

“Kid, back off,” Han warned.

Jake obeyed and darted to the bottom of the
stairs, pacing.

“Not that I know of,” Han answered. “There
aren’t any living oracles to mentor her, either.”

“That could be an issue,” Damian said, gaze
returning to the door he’d just left. “I don’t know shit about
training oracles.”

“I don’t think anyone living does, except
maybe Czerno. He knew enough to find her and plot to bind her to
him.”

The idea of something so sweet in Czerno’s
depraved hold irked him. He wouldn’t let someone like her get stuck
in the middle of their war.

“Most oracles don’t live long to be of use,”
Han added. “Or they’re terrible.”

Not this one.
He felt it in his bones,
just as he felt a soul deep connection to her the moment he’d
touched her.

He pulled out his cell to text his
confidantes.

U still online?

Both Dusty and Jule responded with smiley
faces.

B on in a sec.

“Han, until I let you go back to war, you’ll
be her bodyguard. She knows Jake. If he doesn’t drive her as crazy
as he does me, divvy up shifts with him,” he said. “She’s gonna
have a rough time ahead of her.”

“Most Naturals get a little more notice
before transforming. I think she’s already started?”

“Yeah, and she knows shit about us or what
she is.”

Han nodded. Damian felt the unusual urge to
look in on her again, to feel her soft skin against him once more
and make sure she was safe. Shaking his head, he retreated to his
office.

“Either of you know anything about oracles?”
he asked as he picked up the headphone-mic combo.

Fuck no.

“Nope,” Jule seconded. “We were just
discussing HQ. You having any issues?”

“You mean, like an influx of vamps to
Tucson?”

Bingo.

“Yeah. If Dusty doesn’t object, I might
reorganize the southwest sectors. Something is up.”

Do whatever you want. You always do.

“Damn, Dusty, you’re a jackass today,” Jule
said, amused. “You sure you don’t have a woman plaguing you?”

Damian smiled, waiting for Dusty’s response.
He could guess what Dusty was pissed about, and it didn’t have
anything to do with him rearranging his sectors.

Today’s my birthday, dick. You forgot
again.

“Oooooooohhh,” Jule breathed. “Another
birthday? Not sure why you’d count at this point.”

“
I
remembered,” Damian said promptly.
“You’d think after oh, a few thousand years, you’d remember,
Jule.”

“I’m sorry, bro. I owe you one,” Jule said,
chagrined.

No, you owe me about thirty. Thousand. It’s
not every day your BFF turns 300K.

“I forgot you’re still a baby. I passed that
mark a few hundred thousand years ago. I’ll send you this video
game I’m addicted to,” Jule offered. “You might like it.”

If you love me, you’ll send me the blu-ray
versions of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour.

“Ah, my love, your wish is my command.”

Damian chuckled. At more than double both
their ages, Jule was as old as the Watchers, exiled to earth after
pissing off someone somewhere just before the Schism. He’d never
said why, and Damian didn’t ask.

“You happy, Dust-man?” he asked.

Yes.

Han knocked, and he looked up.

“Rainy from the Tucson Sector is here.
They’re having issues,” Han said.

“Gotta go, boys,” he said. “We’ll chat
tomorrow.”

He pulled off the headphone-mic combo and
rose. Ruling an empire wasn’t getting any easier; he rarely had a
minute to himself anymore.

“Let’s go.”

Northern Virgina,

The Black God’s summer retreat

Two rolled from his place on the concrete
floor in the corner and unwrapped the ratty blanket he used to keep
himself warm. His skin was cold to the touch; his breath hung in
the air as he moved. His master didn’t believe a slave deserved
heat. He dressed himself mechanically and deliberately, hiding away
the scarred body his master hated. Every day he awoke wondering
what happened to him, but he remembered nothing beyond waking up
the day before. The scars covering him from head to toe were from
more than his master’s beatings. They were too deep and knotted to
be from the daggers or the whip or the hand strikes of his master
and his master’s men.

Pants, socks, shoes. T-shirt, sweater,
gloves. He made a rhyme out of the process, though he’d forgotten
it again this morning. He put on his hood last and tucked its edges
into his sweater. Above all, his master hated his scarred face. He
flew into an abusive rage when he saw it.

He left the basement and entered the heated
first floor. It was time for his master’s breakfast, so he went to
the kitchens to fetch his food. The cook was afraid of him and left
everything in one corner. He took his bread and canteen of water –
the morning sustenance for a slave - and tucked them into a cargo
pocket. He lifted his master’s tray. It held breakfast for two, and
he racked his mind for who the other was. He couldn’t remember - he
never did.

He climbed the steps to his master’s chamber
and knocked.

“Come in, Two,” his master replied.

He obeyed. The air of the dark bedroom
smelled of sex and blood. He opened the windows, which did little
to shed light into the stone room with its masculine, black
décor.

“It’s so creepy,” a woman’s voice
complained.

He recognized it. When he turned to place
their breakfast on the table near the patio, he thought he
recognized her. Maybe when she came in. He must have seen her then.
His master said a slave didn’t need to remember anything but his
master, and he didn’t try too hard to remember her.

His master emerged from the bed, naked. His
hair was silver, his body broad-shouldered and muscular. His
visitor wore a t-shirt and had hair the color of last night’s
sunset.

“I don’t know why you bother with
it
,”
she said in disdain, looking at him the way his master did.

“Your breakfast is served,” Two said
automatically.

“I see that, you fucking idiot,” his master
said and slapped him.

Two took his place in the corner, where he
stood all day, no matter which room his master was in, in case his
master needed him.

“Now that you’re here, my lovely Claire, you
can help me nail that son of a bitch for good,” his master
said.

“Anything for you,” she said.

They looked at each other. His master looked
to make sure he was in his corner, then pulled off the visitor’s
clothing. Two looked without seeing.

“I want him to watch” his master said “while
I fuck you every way I know how.”

His woman laughed huskily and approached Two
naked. Her body was beautiful, curvy, with large breasts. He
thought he remembered seeing her naked before, maybe when she
arrived last night. He didn’t know for sure.

“This is for you,” she said then returned to
his master.

Two watched them tumble into bed and fuck for
hours, wondered why it seemed familiar, then decided master was
right – slaves were too stupid to remember.

The monster in the corner of her mind was a
man, shrouded in darkness. He wasn’t a vision - this much she knew.
She heard him even when she was awake, and his crying made her head
pulse, as if he were trying to pry his way into her unwilling
mind.

“You’re still pissed at me?” Jake asked.

She focused on flipping through a magazine.
The mansion’s heavy drapes on the ground floor were closed and the
lighting in the library dim enough for her to tolerate. She’d
roamed the ground floor before adopting the library as her favorite
room and settling in front of a deadened hearth with a stack of
celebrity magazines.

“I brought you here, didn’t I?” he tried
again.

She gave him a withering look, wondering what
crack he was smoking to think he did her any favor by bringing her
here instead of to a hospital.

“Come
on
, Sofi, I’m trying to help
you.”

“Ok fine,” she said, tossing the magazine.
“Tell me where I am, why I’m here, and what’s wrong with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then leave me alone.”

Han chuckled from his position near the
window. He was pretending to read a book, though she suspected he’d
been emplaced as her bodyguard. He’d followed her all around the
house earlier like a bored puppy.

“Han, you following me to the bathroom, too?”
she challenged, standing.

He snorted. He remained in the same spot
until she returned. So did her lying, cheating bastard of an ex
boyfriend. If she could slap him, she would.

“You’re in Arizona,” Jake said as she resumed
her defensive position in the library’s most comfortable chair.
“This is one of D’s compounds. It’s where we come to … be
safe.”

“Who is we? Safe from what?”

“You’ve always had this problem,” he said,
standing. “You’re stubborn, suspicious of
everyone
, and you
ask so many damn stupid questions.”

“I have every justification to be suspicious
of
you
, Jake.”

“Here we go again. Maybe if you didn’t
suffocate me, I -“

“Suffocate? You sleezeball! You couldn’t keep
your hands off -“

“You two know each other?” Han asked,
lowering his book.

“Unfortunately,” she snapped.

“Hey, now, I did bring you here and try to
help you,” Jake pointed out.

He was right, but she didn’t want him to know
she knew it. She’d long since forgiven him for cheating on her.
They’d dated only for a couple of months, and she knew he wasn’t
right for her the first date. But he was so handsome, and she so
amazed he wanted to go out with her that she ignored her
instincts.

“And it didn’t last.”

He rolled his eyes at her.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he said with no
heat.

She sighed.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” she said. “I don’t hold
our past against you at all. I’m just … really frustrated right
now.”

“I’m a target of opportunity,” he said. “I
know. It’s ok, really. I just wish you’d trust me. I’d never hurt
you, Sofi, and I hope you know that and can trust me enough to know
you need to be here.”

She nodded and chewed her lip.

“
Our
past,” Han mulled. “Anyone care
to share?”

Jake ignored him, and she shook her head. Her
gaze turned to the curtain, where not even a lost sunbeam could
enter the room. Struck by longing, she gave a soulful sigh.

“Can I ever go outside again during
daylight?” she asked.

“Yeah, after the transformation is complete,”
Han responded.

Jake shot him a look.

“Transformation?” she asked.

Han opened his book again, jaw clenched.

“Han, what do you mean?” she prodded. “What
am I transforming into?”

At their silence, another thought hit
her.

“Jake, am I a vampire? Were you joking?”

“You’re not a vampire,” he assured her.
“They’re not intolerant do daylight like you are. We’d have to kill
you if you were anyway.”

He was serious, and she gaped at him.

“They are
not
cool,” he added. “Right,
Han?”

“Yep.”

“Who can tell me what’s going on?” she
demanded.

“D,” the two responded simultaneously.

Damn.
The thought of him made her feel
like a girl in junior high being asked to her first dance. Or a
drugged rabbit wandering into a hungry bear’s den. She wanted to
see the mysterious D and yet couldn’t repel his magnetic draw. Even
now, her heart quickened and her thoughts raced to the image of him
in tight black clothing.

“Most people react like that,” Han stated.
“Not many willingly confront him, especially when he’s in one of
his moods. Smart girl.”

She wondered what he meant. She didn’t fear
him – she wanted him. Did most people want him? What if he was the
only person on the planet who could ever touch her again because of
her wacky visions?

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Outside,” Jake said. “If you’re brave
enough, you can see him when he’s back.”

“And why should I be brave? What’s wrong with
him?”