Oracle Seeing (The Phoenix Files Book 2) (6 page)

Well, it would be if he had anything to say about it.

As she approached, he couldn’t help but think she looked like a ghost. Her skin was so pale, and so were her eyes. He’d seen that cloudy look before. It was in his one eye before they removed it.

“Are you really Oracle?” he asked.

She stared at him. “I am, Lucian. I told you that we’d come. We’re going to help you.”

“I think it’s happening again. I’m feeling the same way I was before,” he said, remaining in the shadows. “My head is beginning to hurt. I think the killer is on the move.”

She didn’t doubt it.

The static was going crazy in her head too. He wasn’t the only psychic noticing what was going on around them.

Others, like them, were aware. The whole psychic spectrum was alive with chatter.

“It’s okay. We’ll work on it.”

As she went to approach, he stepped back.

“Stop, please.”

“Why?”

“I’m scarred and hideous.”

“I’m blind. You look like everyone else to me. I have the luxury of judging a person by their inside, not their outside.”

He went silent.

Avalon could tell he was thinking about her words.

“How did you walk toward me if you can’t see?” he asked. “You didn’t even trip on your way up here.”

“Your aura led me, and I have some peripheral. Right now, you’re full of pain, anger, and fear. You think I’m going to be afraid of your disfigurement.”

“Everyone always is. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re not. Your insides are pretty amazing. You used to help people. You wanted justice. Every day, you got up, went to work, and did everything you could to put the bad guys away. That’s not ugly, Lucian. That’s pure beauty, and that’s what I see inside.”

Her words only angered him.

That man was dead.

He was gone.

“I once helped, Oracle, but not anymore. I’m of no use to anyone anymore.”

“Avalon,” she said, holding out her hand to him. “Oracle is my government name. Avalon is the name I was given at birth. I wish we could be friends, and you’ll feel comfortable enough to use it.”

She waited.

He took her hand with only the slightest hesitation. That meant she was on the right path to getting to him. Her blindness was going to be an asset. He wouldn’t be afraid of her, and he would let his guard down.

That was a start.

“It’s not a trick?”

“No.”

“You really can’t see me?”

She shook her head. “I can’t tell what you’re wearing, what color your hair is, or anything else that describes you. I can tell you that you’re smart, funny, and you used to love your life.”

“I once did. I loved helping people.”

She patted his hand. “You will again. If you trust me, I’ll get you back on the right path.”

“No, it’ll never happen. There’s nothing in this life for me anymore. I had it all, and now I have nothing.”

She felt horrible for him.

Yet, Avalon understood. She’d felt that way, too, when she was a prisoner to her gift.

He was a prisoner to his injuries.

“Want to bet?” she asked.

“What?”

“I’m serious. Want to bet that you’ll start helping people again?”

He couldn’t believe this sprite of a woman was real. Not only was she calming the noise in his head, she was trying to offer him some peace.

He liked her.

She reminded him of someone’s kid sister, sweet, friendly, and safe. He felt safe.

That was a first in about ten years. The last woman who made him feel like that…

It didn’t matter.

She was long gone.

“Uh, okay. What’s the bet?”

“If I’m right, you heal, find happiness, and survive this, then you’ll bring a date to my wedding.”

“What?”

“I said…”

“I heard what you said, Avalon. I’m not fit for a wedding. I’m more like the monster that rings the bells in the tower of the church.”

She didn’t understand that analogy, but it made her curious.

“Make the bet, Lucian. If I’m wrong, I’ll stay after the case and help train you on how to control the voices. You don’t know how to block. You need help.”

He stared at her. “You’re an odd woman, Avalon.”

She laughed, her voice offering so much calm.

If he only knew the half of it.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You don’t know that you can’t.”

He was getting frustrated.

“Let me warn you, Lucian. All my life, I was told I couldn’t do anything. I was expected to live my life out a mistake by the universe. I learned to persevere. You can too, if you let yourself believe it’s possible.”

He wasn’t sure.

“Let us help you. I can promise you right now that the people waiting by our cars won’t hurt you. They won’t judge you, and they will accept you for the man you are. You’re a hero, Lucian. You helped victims get justice. That’s what we do in our own way. We are fighting the same fight. I promise.”

He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Trust me,” she said, her voice calm and peaceful. It washed over him as she focused on his aura. It was changing. Avalon was getting stronger. She was able to calm the man with just a touch.

“Okay. Deal.”

He shook her hand.

“Great,” she said.

“What do I do now?” he asked, unsure how to handle this. The whole thing was new. He only knew one other person who heard the voices, and that had been his mother.

“Can I feel your face?”

He was horrified.

“
NO
!”

“It’s how I see.”

“Avalon.”

“Please?”

He didn’t know why he wanted to feel her fingers over his scarred cheek. She felt so safe, calming, and peaceful. Maybe Lucian wanted to see if some of her happiness would rub off on him. He could read her.

She was a good person.

He’d become good at seeing people for what they were worth. It’s how he used his gift in the courtroom.

“Okay, but I warned you.”

She moved close. With gentle fingertips, she touched his face. Her fingers ran the length of the scar.

“Well?”

“You see the past. I see the future. You’re more scarred on the inside than the outside.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you think you’re ugly, hideous, and a monster, but you’re not. Your face isn’t bad at all. It’s all in your mind. You hate yourself so much that you don’t see you’re still as handsome as you were. I see that handsomeness.”

He stared at her.

She was out of her damn mind.

Here was the proof.

“Can my team come in? We have work to do. We want to start working on this case.”

He didn’t know what to say.

This little redheaded woman was rolling right over him, and he didn’t think he could tell her no.

“Avalon.”

“Let me help you. I see what’s coming for you. I need you to trust me. If you do, I promise you won’t be let down. This is my job, Lucian. This is what I do. I help people like us. I help psychics who are trapped and can’t find their way out. Let me guide you out of this mess.”

He was scared.

There were four strangers not far away, and he knew they were going to be disgusted.

Everyone always was or they pitied him.

He hated that most.

“Okay, but one gawking look, and I’m kicking everyone out.”

That was the best she could hope for at this point. Lucian was going to take a lot of work.

Yet, he had a chance to heal.

She knew how.

His future was crystal clear, and Avalon knew how to make it happen.

Her name was Bishop.

And she would save the day.

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

Ravenswood Town Hall

Silas Reed’s Office

She genuinely liked the man she called boss. Silas Reed was a good man and a close family friend. When she needed a job, he allowed her father to hire her on as a deputy.

She’d been green as grass, and likely a menace to everyone around her, but he saw something in her.

Bishop appreciated that.

“Bish, we have a mess,” he said, running his hands through his very gray hair. “Have you seen the news?”

She laughed. “Do you really think I had time today to kick back, grab a cold one, and watch the media prattle on about bullshit stuff they have no business discussing?”

He snorted. “No, not really.”

She glanced at her watch. “Silas, I didn’t have lunch or dinner. I’m ready to eat that stuffed raccoon of yours,” she said, pointing at his taxidermy friend in the corner.

“I have half a sandwich,” he offered, opening the little refrigerator beneath his desk. “I can order you something if you’re hungry.”

“I’ll go with the sandwich. I don’t have much time. I have to get back to the morgue and check in with Roxy.”

“How is my granddaughter doing?”

“She’s crazy. She plays with organs and maggots. Something is definitely wrong with her. You tell me what she’s thinking about.”

He laughed.

Silas loved this girl.

She was like one of his own kids.

“I’m worried about this,” he offered.

She ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwich like it was the only thing left in the world to consume. When she got home, she was taking down a box of cereal next.

“You should be. I’m worried.”

That said a lot.

Bishop Killion was tough. She had been raised with a house full of brothers, and a father who was a cop. Oddly, she was the
ONLY
one who followed in his footsteps—with good reason.

She had
‘the gift’
.

You could see it in her green eyes when she was watching a suspect. The girl was just like her father. She had balls a plenty, and the ability to solve a puzzle with the best of them.

That’s why she was the youngest sheriff in this town, or any of the surrounding ones.

It had nothing to do with the older men around her playing deputy. It had everything to do with the fact that in Ravenswood, the Killions were known for three things.

They raised hell.

They were wicked smart.

They all had gut instinct that would make a psychic weep.

It was that last part that made them good at finding justice and fighting for the truth.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

She pulled out her phone and slid it across the table. “Look at the pictures. Ignore the selfies of Roxy and me. There was way too much tequila that night, and she takes that girlfriend crap way too far.”

He snorted. “Okay.”

When he found the note, his hand actually shook. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, that’s why you should be worried. This is the first of seven. We’re about to be boned big time.”

He closed his eyes. “Maybe we should call in for backup.”

“Oh my God! Is that what I’m supposed to do, Silas?” she asked sarcastically.

“You’re pushing it, missy. No one likes sass on a good day, but today is a really bad time to push your luck.”

Didn’t she know it?

“Yeah, maybe, but the facts speak for themselves. I can’t call for help yet. The first thing the FBI will ask is how many bodies. We have one.”

“But the note.”

“The second thing they’ll ask is if it could be a prank to mess with us or throw us off track.”

“Is it?”

“How the hell should I know? I have one body and one note. I can’t answer that unless a second pops up.”

“So we’re going to wait until you find a second victim? That doesn’t sound counter-productive at all.”

She shook her head.

Bishop hated that idea. She really, really, hated it, but there was nothing she could do about it.

This was one of those things. It was the nature of the beast. Time was the only way to get more information about what they were working against.