Oracle Seeing (The Phoenix Files Book 2) (4 page)

BOOK: Oracle Seeing (The Phoenix Files Book 2)
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“Well, he lived,” Avalon said. “He’s a mess, but he’s alive. When I was focusing for him, I could feel his anger. He’s locked himself away, and he’s full of hate.”

She knew he was going to be part of the mission too. It wasn’t only about finding a killer. Avalon instinctually knew she had to help him.

He’d locked himself away, and that was never a good thing for a person like them. Their minds needed stimulation, to work, to help, and to be free. He was caging his gift.

It had to stop.

“Can you blame him?” Jagger asked. “Look at the pictures of his life before he was nearly killed.”

They all studied them, and Nate described them to Avalon since she couldn’t see them.

“He was drop dead gorgeous,” Maura stated.

Luke gave her a look.

“Really?”

“You’re more drop dead, beach-bum sexy. He’s tall dark and mysterious.”

“This isn’t getting better,” Luke clarified.

Avalon interrupted. “We have to help him.”

They had to set him free.

“He’s still beautiful,” Avalon said. “I can feel his insides and that’s what makes a person attractive. To someone, like me, who can look past the superficial, he’s still sexy. He’s genuinely a good person, but he’s very angry.”

Nate stared at her.

Did she just call another person sexy?

His fiancée?

Why did that make him want to hurt something?

“I feel horrible for him. What he’s lived through has to be painful,” Maura stated.

“So, we’re going to help him?” Luke asked.

“Yeah, but it won’t be easy. He’s not really into helping people anymore.” Avalon knew that was all about the anger locked inside of him. She saw what was coming, and they could help him if he’d let them in. “We have to get him back on track, using his gift for good.”

They were confused.

“He did this before his accident?” Maura asked. “He’s had visions? They weren’t from the explosion and his injuries?”

“No. Read about his career.”

Jagger pulled it up.

As he skimmed through it, he whistled. “She’s right. He was brilliant in the courtroom, closed his cases, locked the bad guys away, and he never even batted an eyelash the entire time.”

“He used his gift. I’m almost positive,” Avalon offered. “He used that to drive his career.”

“Do you think he’ll help us?” Maura asked.

She wasn’t sure.

It was a gamble.

His aura told the tale. Lucian was one pissed off man, and it could go either way.

“It’s going to depend on two things.”

“What?” Nathaniel asked.

“If I can get through to him, and if the next person on the killer’s list hits home for him. He knew the first victim. He knew the judge who was killed.”

This wasn’t going to be easy.

How were they supposed to get into place, investigate, and handle the situation if the person who was connecting to the killer didn’t want to help?

They had to stay low key.

“Maybe we should pass on this one,” Maura offered. Her biggest concern was keeping Avalon hidden. They didn’t need the media, local cops, or the President, getting wind of her identity.

That would be bad.

Very.

Very.

Bad
.

“No, we’re doing it. I just need a shower, to get dressed, and eat something. I’ll be fine. I can pull this off. I know I can. Lucian needs me.”

No one believed her.

“I’ll help you,” Nate offered, despite the sick feeling creeping into his gut.

“Actually, can Maura do it? I need to talk to her about something.”

Nate got worried.

It wasn’t like Avalon to push him away like that. It terrified him. That was the one thing in his life that could, and would, continually keep him wracked with fear.

“Okay, Avi. I’ll get the plans started, so we can head to Ravenswood.”

It took everything he had not to beg her to let him help. Nate knew he’d sacrifice his dignity for her.

Somehow, he kept his mouth closed.

Standing, Avalon headed for the doorway with her tea. She didn’t glance back, she didn’t speak, and she didn’t acknowledge that Nate’s aura was filled with fear.

She had bigger issues at the moment.

As she headed up the stairs, it took everything she had not to run. Avalon wanted to race up to their room, lock herself in the bathroom, and be sick.

When she finally got upstairs, she dashed the rest of the way, praying nothing was going to trip her. Once in the bathroom, she hit the floor and began purging everything in her body.

The tea.

Bile.

Fear.

Behind her, she heard the door close and could feel Maura’s approach.

“Avi, are you okay, honey?” Maura asked, kneeling beside her to pull the woman’s red hair back as she purged.

Avalon was crying as she threw up.

Maura had never seen her like this.

When Avalon was finished, she handed her a towel. “Do you want me to get Nate?”

“No. I’ll be okay. I just need a minute and you.”

Maura held her hand. “What do you need?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Maura’s mouth opened as those words sunk in. That would explain just about everything they’d seen happening to the woman. “Ohhhh. Yeah, okay.”

Avalon felt better after puking.

“Anymore. I’m sick in the morning—all the time. The last two weeks have sucked.”

“Does Nate know?” Maura asked. She prayed he did because if this got out, and he wasn’t the first one to know, he wasn’t going to be happy.

“No. I don’t know what to do. My birth control must have worn off.”

“What kind were you on?” she asked.

“Shots.”

Maura thought about it. “Yeah, that’s likely.”

“I want to make sure. What do I do?”

“You get a test and pee on it.”

She stared at her blindly. “How about I give you some nuclear codes? That I can do. Drive to a drugstore, pick up a pregnancy test, and take it—let alone read it—without Nate finding out, isn’t going to happen.”

And now she knew why she was there. “I don’t have one, but I can get you one.”

“Please?”

“Okay. Can you handle packing? I’ll make up some excuse and get one in town. It won’t take me long.”

She could.

“Maura, I’m scared.”

She could see that. “It’ll be okay, Avalon. If you are, we’re here. We’ll make sure you figure this out.”

“I don’t know if I want to be a mother.”

And there was the fear.

It took a brave person to come right out and say it.

Maura understood what she was saying. She didn’t want to be a mother either—not with her job.

“Okay, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, we have a case, we need to get you a pregnancy test, and then we’ll deal with that, but you’re going to have to tell Nate. He’s like a freaking bloodhound. He’s going to pick this scent up, and there is no way in hell he’s going to let it go. It’s not going to happen.”

She was aware.

“If I am…?”

“We have you.”

She believed her. They were her family. There was no way in hell they’d ever let her down. She would be safe.

“I feel better.”

“Great,” she said, helping her up.

At least one of them did.

Maura felt like shit. She was going to have to keep a secret from the team—worse yet, from Nate. This was going to be ugly.

 

And she knew it.

 

 

 

 

       
                
* * *
  O R A C L E   * * *

 

 

 

Ravenswood

 

 

 

 

Well, this was a mess.

Her day couldn’t have possibly started out any worse. For Sheriff Bishop Killion, she was facing down the worst case scenario. Here she was, at the courthouse, and someone had left her a present.

The judge.

She’d gotten the call from one of her deputies that morning, before the sun had even come up. She didn’t believe it at first, but he’d been right.

Someone had killed Judge Arron Abrahms.

Not only had they mutilated and tortured him, but they left him splayed out on the courthouse steps where he’d worked. It was likely a message.

Yeah, that couldn’t be good.

They had a real sicko on their hands. Whoever had done this wasn’t playing with a full deck. It didn’t take a genius to see that.

“What do we have?” she asked, as her deputies milled around. On the ground, Doctor Roxanne Faust was kneeling beside the body.

“Well, it’s definitely the judge, Bishop, and he’s been tortured. Look at the cuts to his body. They’re pink around the edges, and that means he was alive at the time.”

“That sucks for him.”

“Yeah, it did. His intestines are covered in dirt, leaves, and twigs. I’m going to guess and say that his internal organs were outside his body as the killer dragged him through the woods, or someone’s backyard.”

“Why do I get the feeling, Roxy, that by the time you’re done, this is going to suck even more than I thought?”

The coroner stood and pulled off her gloves. “Bish, this has absolutely nothing to do with me. You simply have the worst luck on the planet.”

She was right.

She did.

Her life was a series of misfortunate misses. The last ten years blew to hell and back.

“What else can you tell me about the judge’s untimely death?”

“You know I can’t give you much without him being in the morgue.”

“Yeah, just spitball it for me, okay? I need to get something so I can keep the mayor from riding my ass. He’s a pain on a good day. This isn’t a good day, Roxy. This day is about as far from good as good can get.”

She happened to agree.

Plus, the mayor was predictable if nothing.

“Well, I can’t give you TOD. When the killer cut him open, that cooled his liver down, and fast. So, I can guess, but that’s about it.”

“Hey, I’m okay with your guesses. You’re pretty accurate when you need to be.”

It was her gift.

“With rigor just setting in, I’m going to say he bought it six to eight hours ago. You figure with all this torture, the fact he’d bled out most of his fluids, and he peed himself—likely from fear or pain—the killer had him an hour or two before that.”

“So, we’re looking at around ten hours.”

Roxy pulled out her phone. “Did you see the paper this morning?” she asked.

“Uh, I was a little busy.”

“With a man?”

She snorted. “Yeah, the one in my dreams. My bed was chilly last night.”

And the last seven hundred nights.

For some reason, Bishop Killion scared the men away. Maybe it was her job.

Or…it could be that she called it how she saw it, and most guys wanted a delicate flower. She was more like a prizefighter ready for the next round.

It was her father’s fault.

He’d made her into this mess—she was sure of it.

“I was working on reports instead of reading the paper. What did I miss?” she asked.

Roxy tossed her BFF the phone. “Read it and weep with gratitude that I’m awesome and kick ass.”

Bishop read the headline.

Her eyebrow winged up, and immediately, she was grinning. “That’s some headline.”

 

 

‘Judge Abrahms caught canoodling with co-worker’s wife at the gala.’

 

 

 

“That might piss me off enough to cut the son of a bitch open to watch him bleed.”

“Yeah,” Roxy said laughing, “especially if you’re the other guy married to the woman being canoodled.”

Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as she thought. If Bishop got lucky, she’d head out to the interview and find a bloody man weeping over what he’d done.

She’d been known to get lucky like that.

In fact, it ran in the family.

Her father, before he’d been killed, was kissed by the luck of the Irish. Evidence fell into his lap on a daily basis, and it helped him arrest the bad guys. The man had some crazy mad skills until that luck had finally run out.

That’s why she was proud to carry on his legacy.

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