Damian's Oracle (7 page)

By the look on Damian’s face, he wasn’t
happy. She wondered if he knew what she saw. She snatched her
jacket and pulled it on as she raced down the stairwell and down
the hall to the front door. She jerked it open only to have it
pushed shut by an olive hand planted above her head. She cringed at
the thick forearm brushing her ear.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately.

“For what?”

His tone was measured. His scent drove her
body wild, the mix of sweat, darkness, and man.

“I don’t know.”

His hand dropped, and she faced him. He stood
before as he had in the sparring ring, sans any clothing but judo
pants. She felt dwarfed and delicate next to the mass of roped
muscle and taut skin.

Heat rose to her face as she stared openly.
His chiseled features were unreadable and hard. The sword was still
clenched in one hand. The honey eyes were intent, his face flushed
from exertion. She’d had never felt overwhelmed by a man before,
and she’d certainly never been a woman who felt weak-kneed!

She leaned back against the door, mouth dry
and legs shaky.

“I’m not angry at you,” he said at last,
taking a step back. “You have a rare ability among our kind. I
didn’t realize you were as … capable as you are.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not going to eat you, so you can stop
looking at me like that,” he said with a bitter edge that was lost
on her.

She looked down, near tears again.

“That didn’t come out quite right,” he
said.

“Han said you’re moody.”

“Did he?”

She nodded.

“He’s usually right. C’mon. We’ll talk.”

She trailed him up the stairs, taking in
every inch of his perfectly round butt to his slender hips and
thick back. She’d never seen a man so strong, and she couldn’t
imagine talking to him without remembering how beautiful that body
was. Thoughts of his sweaty body poised above hers made her want to
swoon for the first time in her life, and her core ached so much
from the vision that she gripped the handrail.

“My god, I’m a man,” she whispered.

“A what?”

“Nothing.”

He led her to his private suite, which took
up half of one wing. She sat in the living room as masculine as he,
surrounded by wood, wool and leather in dark colors. The window to
a balcony was open, allowing in a cool night breeze that made the
fire in the hearth dance. She pulled her knees to her chest,
feeling small and vulnerable once more.

When he rejoined her, he’d put on a t-shirt
and sandals. He leaned back in a chair across from her with
muscular, feline grace, managing to appear both at ease and ready
to pounce. They gazed at each other until she felt red creep up her
neck. She looked towards the fire.

“Why can’t I touch anyone else but you
without seeing … horrible things?” she asked as the silence grew
uncomfortable.

“In my world, you’d be called an oracle, one
who can see a person’s future by touching them.”

She stared at him.

“It’s a rare gift, trust me,” he said. “And a
treasured one. You’ll eventually be able to see other things
besides their deaths. Death is the only definite, and so it’s the
first vision you see until you hone your skills.”

Her throat tightened.

“As for me, well … “ he trailed off. “That
shit doesn’t work on me. We’ll leave it at that for now.”

“I saw you … I saw … “ she didn’t know how to
say what she’d seen without seeming like the craziest person in the
world.

“That is what we have to talk about,” he
said, leaning towards her. “You will see my past. You will say
nothing to anyone about what you see about me.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” she whispered,
distraught. “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“I know. However, there are boundaries to
your gift that I must give you now. It’s better you learn them from
the beginning. One, no matter what you See, you are forbidden from
telling the person exactly what you see. If you are asked, you can
give them insight into their future, so long as you do not reveal
everything. Two, don’t fuck with fate.”

“I can’t keep such horrible things to
myself.”

“Three, you can’t save the world,” he
replied. “You can tell me what you see, if you need to talk about
it. Does that work?”

She frowned, unconvinced. He rattled off more
rules, and she listened without registering any of them. What the
hell was an oracle anyway? How did one just morph into one? Maybe
it was the mercury in the tuna she ate or the excessive amounts of
chocolate. Could eating fake sweetener turn her into something like
this? If so, what would hard water do to a person?

She laughed.

Damian stared at her.

“Sorry. I was thinking … it’s stupid,” she
said. “I’m overwhelmed. One day I’m a boring financial planner, and
the next day, I can’t go out in sunlight and I see the future.”

“You’ll be able to go outside once you
transform.”

“What does that mean? Transform into
what
?”

“One of us. Our kind tend to live much longer
than the average human. You’ll finish transforming soon and will be
like a human, just with a very, very long and extended life. Except
… “ he trailed off, giving her a considering look.

“Except what?” she demanded, panicking. “I
have three eyes instead of two? I grow a tail?”

The corner of his lips curved up in amusement
once more.

“Nothing like that. One day, I’ll tell you.
You’ll eventually have additional requirements to sustaining your
body.”

“When can I go outside?” she asked again.

“Soon.”

They gazed at each other again, and she tried
her damndest not to look away. A slow, languid smile crossed his
features, one that made her body flush and ache for him. The vision
of him on top of her protruded into her thoughts again. She looked
away.

“I’ll always win that game,” he warned.

You have no idea
, she mused. There
were a great many things she’d let him do to her to win the game in
her head.

“Like what?”

She jerked, eyes returning to him.

“You really can read minds,” she whispered,
stricken.

“Damn straight. I’m willing if you’re
willing,” he said with a lazy smile that set her blood alight. He
clasped his hands behind his head, giving her an unobstructed view
of his body.

“I’m not some sort of floozy,” she snapped,
though she couldn’t help wishing she was. “I don’t sleep with
random men, especially those who aren’t … you’re not even human,
are you?”

“Nope.”

His response chilled her ardor.

“You’re not?”

“Nope.”

“What are you?”

“I guess you could say I’m a divine spirit of
sorts.”

“A ghost?”

“Not that kind of spirit.”

He didn’t expand, and she was too afraid to
ask.

“Good-bye,” she said, standing and all but
bolting out of his suite.

Her head hurt again, this time from trying to
digest what he was telling her. She could see the future and he was
a … what the hell was he?

He could read minds.

It made no sense, but neither did the sudden
craving for peanut butter that dragged her to the kitchen, where
yet another man she wanted to avoid was lounging. She snagged a jar
of peanut butter and a spoon, retreating to her library. Jake
followed, and Han was already waiting for her.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked.

Irritated he continued to disturb her peace,
she leveled a glare on him.

“Transforming. Can’t you tell?”

He stalked off, and Han glanced down from his
bored stare at the ceiling. She didn’t care if he was miserable or
not -
she
didn’t order him to babysit her.

“Is it dark yet?” she asked him again.

“Yes.”

Jake returned with a jug of water.

“Your shift,” Han said and rose.

Sofia rose and retreated to her room. During
her day, she’d found quite a few treasures, to include a dusty
backpack, a flashlight, and Jake’s wallet, which happened to have a
credit card she used to book a flight from Tucson to Virginia.

“I want to go out,” she said.

“Great,” Jake said, rising from his seat in
the library with more enthusiasm than she’d seen all day.

“To the airport.”

His smile faded.

“That’s a no-go, Sofi.”

She pulled out a set of keys and walked down
the hall to the front door.

“Sofia,” Jake called, trailing.

“You’re not allowed to touch me,” she
reminded him.

“D is.”

“D’s in town. Remember?”

He frowned but followed her into the cool
evening towards the garage. Damian had a lot of cars, and she found
the black BMW whose lights flashed when she clicked the keyfob.
Jake slid into the passenger seat beside her, pulling out his cell
as he did.

He dialed and spoke in a different language
to the man on the other end. Her grip tightened on the wheel, and
she assumed he spoke to Damian. He didn’t appear out of thin air to
stop her, and she made it to the airport terminal, where she
stopped in front of the Delta sign and handed Jake the keys.

If she failed to make it on the plane, she
didn’t doubt D would drag her back. She was pretty sure he would
find her no matter where she tried to go.

Damn them all.

She strode into the airport and checked in,
very careful not to brush up against anyone for fear of the jarring
visions. She didn’t relax until her plane was in the air, and only
then was she able to relax only when she sat pressed against the
window to prevent her elbow from touching the man beside her.

Several hours later, just as dawn was
breaking, she entered the disaster that was her apartment. Sofia
dropped her backpack onto the kitchen counter, taking in the
damage.

“Hello, Sofia.”

She froze at the familiar voice.

“I was worried when you didn’t show for your
appointment.”

She turned, startled to find the man in front
her of the same make and mold as Damian’s men. The doctor’s eyes
were the color of cold steel, his face stoic and large form tense.
His hair was silvered.

“Dr. Czerno?” she managed. “You’re not a
doctor, are you?”

“No, Sofia.”

She stared at him and edged around the
kitchen island. Sofia darted for the door, but he snatched her arm.
His visions were more than just his death; they were the first
person experience of torturing and killing of many, many others, as
if
she
were mutilating others. She staggered under the
weight of them, dropping to her knees.

He released her.

“I think you see what I am about,” he
said.

Tears streamed down her face as screams
echoed in her mind.

“I can carry you or you can walk out.”

“Walk,” she managed, shuddering at the
lingering visions that left an acrid taste in her mouth.

“Let’s go.”

She pushed herself off the floor and rose.
The kind of creature that could do such things to other men left
her no doubt he’d do the same to her if she didn’t obey. She
shivered and hugged herself as they emerged into the cold Virginia
dawn.

A chauffer opened the door to a town car as
they neared the street.

Run! Run!

As if hearing her thoughts, Czerno gripped
her arm again. Sofia sagged, crippled by the burning visions. He
shoved her into the car, and she crawled as far from him as she
could.

They merged into traffic. Czerno raised the
privacy glass with the push of a button.

“Tell me, love, just how powerful are
you?”

She shook her head.

“Still transforming, I see.”

And he smiled, a cold smile that did not
reach the death in his eyes.

* * *

Damian turned the cell back on and emerged
from the Marriott’s conference room, the random place chosen by his
spy chief for this week’s intelligence briefing. The situation in
Europe plagued him, as did the declining number of Guardians. This
would be the first year he’d gone into the negative in a thousand
of years. He was losing established Guardians – mostly in Europe –
and an entire class of new recruits.

Dusty’s suggestion of bringing in every
regional commander and station chief for interrogation was sounding
better. As a former assassin and interrogator, Dusty didn’t much
care for people to begin with. Dusty’s skills were legendary, but
Damian had held off on what he considered a reign of terror for his
regional commanders. Dusty’s interviewees rarely lived through the
ordeal, and he wasn’t yet ready for that step.

His cell rang before it could upload the
number of voicemails and texts.

“I’m done, Han. What’s up?”

“This message is from Dusty. He wants to know
what the fuck you were doing that you couldn’t answer your
phone.”

“I’ll call him,” he promised.

“We have a serious issue,” Han said in a flat
voice. “You need to get to NOVA
now.
”

“Consider me there.”

Han had never led him astray in the thousands
of years as his XO. He waited until he was out of sight of the
hotel’s cameras before blinking.

“’bout time,” Dusty said.

Damian accepted his hand in greeting, looking
around. The room was as still as a graveyard despite the dozen
Guardians there. Dusty had called in the entire sector. If he were
personally involved in the operation, something was very, very
wrong.

“I think this is yours,” Dusty said and
handed him a few surveillance pictures taken of one of Czerno’s
safe houses in northern Virginia and an apartment building.

Damian froze as he saw the photo of Czerno
dragging Sofia to a car.

“How the fuck did she get to Virginia?!” he
roared.

“She flew,” Dusty said, leveling a look on
Jake, who stood in a corner with his head bowed.