The Phantom Oracle (Vampire Innocent Book 5)

by Matthew S. Cox

  Priya’s fear shifts to an eye roll. “She’s teasing us.”

  “Umm. I dunno. It does kinda feel weird.” Nicole takes a few tentative steps into the hall, heading toward the bathroom.

  “It’s all in your mind.” Priya shakes her head and unpauses the game. “Hey, you kept hitting me when I wasn’t even looking.”

  “Sorry. I was watching the screen, not you.” Sierra opens a menu. “Restart?”

  “’Kay,” says Priya.

  Nicole creeps down the hallway. Between her black hair, T-shirt, and leggings, she looks like some kind of suburban kid ninja. Or a tiny version of that woman in the vampire movie with the werewolves. I’ve met a few Old Guard who have more color than her.

  “Hey, Dad?” calls Sierra. “Can we get a Oujia board?”

  “No way,” mutters Sophia. “That’s a bad idea. Those things are evil.”

  Priya scoffs. “They’re not evil, they’re fake.”

  While the girls get into a debate over the ‘legit-ness’ of spiritual tools made by a board game company, I get up and wander to the kitchen, grinning at a string of texts from Ashley talking about a guy in her class who showed up drunk. Before I realize it, I’ve got the fridge open and I’m peering inside.

  “Old habits?” asks Dad, right next to me.

  “Gah!” I jump and push the door shut. Grr! I hate not having my super hearing active. It sucks being normal. “You snuck up on me.”

  “Yes, well, that was the intent.” He wiggles his sock-covered toes at me. “Fridge surfing?”

  “Old habits die hard or something like that.” I shrug.

  “Near death experience?” Dad raises an eyebrow. “That’s almost a lie.”

  “Did we not agree that fibbing to conceal certain things is a necessary evil?” I ask.

  He winks. “Yeah. Just teasing. So, about the, umm guest.”

  “I’m working on it. Friend of mine is scouting around for a good place.”

  He nods. “No rush. Just… your mother is a little unsettled at having a dead person in the house.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “That never stopped her from inviting Uncle Hank for Thanksgiving.”

  Dad cackles.

  Like legit Wicked Witch of the West cackles.

  Okay, so my Uncle Hank—Mom’s oldest brother—is like eighty-nine and he basically looks like a mummy without all the bandages. I wouldn’t normally pick on a guy for being ancient and brittle, but he’s not nice. Barks at me and the littles to be quiet even when we’re already quiet, constantly complains about everything, even Mom’s food. I’m really not sure why the heck she keeps inviting him over. Ooh. Idea. If he’s back this year for the holidays I am so going to compel him to shut the hell up. I don’t care if Mom yells at me for it, the old bastard’s going on mute.

  “Do you think I’m doing the right thing going for programming? I still can’t decide. Maybe I should switch to English.”

  Dad wipes laugh tears away, then pats me on the shoulder. “Well, I know some part of your going to college is merely to make your mother and me happy. Neither of us have any illusion that you’ll have a normal career considering. So, you should study whatever you enjoy. Don’t take programming just because it’s what I do. And really, if you decide going to college at all isn’t working out for you, please don’t feel forced.”

  I hug him. “Thanks, Dad. And I’m not in the programming track purely because it’s what you’re doing… it’s something I can do from home. Okay, I’m not as much of a tech geek as Sierra is, but I don’t hate it.”

  He takes a seat at the kitchen table. “What would you have studied if you’d gone to USC?”

  Thinking of Ashley, I mutter, “Majored in homesickness with a minor in being pathetic.”

  Dad chuckles.

  “But seriously? I dunno. I still haven’t figured this stuff out. Probably would have taken core classes at first until something jumped out at me. Is it worse to have no idea what I wanna do with my life or be someone whose parents force them into a particular job from the minute they pop out of the womb?”

  “Well, at least that kid knows what they’re going to do.” He snickers.

  “Programming looks interesting, but I’ve never been that mathy.”

  “You’re certainly smart enough, just a bit on the lazy side.”

  I stick my tongue out at him.

  Dad looks like he’s about to say something, but gets misty eyed. “It doesn’t matter what you study. I’m just happy to still have you around.”

  “Aww, Dad…” I flop into his lap and hug him.

  It takes him a moment to get his voice back. “Whatever you study, I couldn’t care less. As long as you’re happy.”

  “Ehh. You’re right. I’m just lazy, and I guess I’m trying to go undercover as a normal kid.”

  “What?”

  I grin. “Concealing my nerdiness. Wasn’t terribly cool to be into computers, math, science… stuff like that. ’Course the only one I ever really fooled was Scott. Maybe that’s why he treated me the way he did. Once he figured out I was the ‘smart girl’ and he was ‘too cool’ for me or something, so he considered being with me like some kinda charity thing.”

  “You are beautiful, Sarah. You don’t need to disguise anything.”

  “I kinda do.” I make a biting gesture at him. “But I think I’m confident enough to get my nerd on now.”

  He laughs.

  The doorbell rings.

  Sophia yells, “I got it” as if Sierra would bother getting up.

  Dad starts telling me a story from his college days about the ‘grand high wizard of nerdvana’ who lived next door to him in the dorms.

  Sophia walks into the kitchen with a robotic gait and a ‘nobody home’ look in her eyes. “Sarah. There’s a man here to see you.”

  “Who?” I ask.

  She stands there like a statue.

  “Soph?” I snap my fingers in front of her eyes, but she doesn’t react.

  “Umm…?” asks Dad.

  “Shit,” I mutter. “That’s not good.”

  17

  A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

  Someone messed with my little sister.

  I jump out of Dad’s lap and grab Sophia’s shoulders, shaking her. “Soph?”

  She jostles around like a mannequin, oblivious.

  “Soph!” I yell.

  The girl ignores me. I pivot and push her toward Dad. “Here. Hold her. I’m going to rip someone’s face off.”

  I storm down the hall to the living room, where Sierra, Nicole, and Priya remain absorbed in the PlayStation. A thirtysomething man in a fancy black suit that gives off an old-world vibe stands in the open door. Long semi-curly brown hair hangs down to his shoulders, and little round sunglasses perch low enough on his nose he can stare over them. Wow. The only thing missing is the horse-drawn carriage outside.

  He shows no reaction to my scowl as I stomp over and get in his face. “What the hell did you do to my—”

  “Obey me.” The man waves a hand past my nose like he’s trying to do some kinda Star Wars crap.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Umm, dude. Hate to break it to you, but that shit might’ve worked like a century or two ago, but dating has evolved. And you’re way too old for me.” I nearly grab him by the neck, but catch myself upon realizing I’m offline and no stronger than a smallish eighteen year old girl with a minimal degree of physical fitness ought to be. “What the hell did you do to my sister?”

  He blinks at me, looks me up and down, and makes that funny hand gesture again—thumb to ring finger, index and middle fingers pointing up. “Obey me.”

  “How about no?”

  The man makes a face like he’d showed up for a gunfight and forgot ammo.

  “Wait… you like legit expected that to work?”

  “Ordinarily, yes.”

  I exhale. “Wow. You must really be a fun date.”

  He continues looking at me like he’s never seen a girl before.
>
  “Oh, hang on. This is about the mummy, isn’t it?”

  After clearing his throat and staring at me for another few seconds, he smooths his hands down the front of his shiny black vest and nods. “Well, since you are being so direct, yes. I shouldn’t be at all surprised the charm didn’t work on you if you somehow managed to get in and out without triggering any of the wards. Where did you study?”

  “Umm. Seattle Central College.”

  He stares at me.

  “What?”

  The man leans closer, whispering, “The esoteric arts.”

  “Umm.” I laugh. “I don’t use magic.”

  Brows furrowed, he waves that funny hand gesture at me again. “Obey me.”

  “Dude. Really. That’s even less effective than ‘nice shoes, wanna fuck?”

  Sierra, Nicole, and Priya burst into giggles.

  “Oooh!” says Sophia. “She said a bad word!”

  Whew. At least she’s back to normal.

  The man leans in, eyeing the four eleven- and ten-year-olds in front of the TV.

  No sooner do I get the inkling that he intends to threaten them, the previously not-too-bad gloomy daylight ramps up to painful heat. Without really thinking, I grab him by two fistfuls of his jacket, lift him off his feet, and step outside before swinging him around and planting his back against the house.

  “If you, or any of your ‘order’ or whatever you are, do anything to my family, there won’t be a wizard left anywhere in this state. I’ll make the Salem Witch Trials look like Mario Kart.”

  He leans his head back, as much as he can with the house in the way. “Oh… you’re…”

  “Pissed off?” I narrow my eyes.

  The man stares at me, whispering some weird language for a few seconds.

  I keep holding him against the wall, trying to ignore the pain of daylight scorching up my back.

  “Vampire?” he whispers.

  “I’ve been called worse, but not since high school.”

  My flash of rage passes. The sun relaxes from burning to tolerable, and my arms lose the strength to hold the guy in the air. He slides back down onto his feet, though I don’t let go of his suit.

  “Oh, now that is interesting. You are rather adept at concealing yourself.” He looks around. “How are you even awake during the day? And… how is it possible that you even entered the hall?”

  “A girl’s gotta keep some secrets.” I let go of his vest and take a step back.

  “Hmm. I find it most curious to be having a conversation with you like civilized people.”

  I fold my arms. “What were you expecting?”

  “Much more blood.”

  “That can be arranged. Stay away from my family.”

  “Why did you take the mummy?”

  “Coralie was tired of being a slave. She asked me to.”

  “Oh. So… you’ll not be inclined to return her to us?”

  “Not unless she wants to go, and I kind of doubt that.”

  He holds up a finger. “Perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement then.”

  “Would that arrangement involve anyone losing body parts?”

  The man smiles. “No. It shouldn’t.”

  Crap. I know I’m going to regret this, but… I sigh. “Okay. I’ll at least talk. What are you thinking?”

  “Excellent. Please meet us at the Brass Tap next Wednesday night.”

  “Can’t be too early, I’ve got class. And it usually runs long. Teacher’s a slow talker. Ten?”

  “Class?” He tilts his head.

  I shrug. “Yeah, you know, like college?”

  “All right. Ten then.”

  “This is such a bad idea.” I sigh at the grass. “I’m walking into a trap.”

  “Oh, please do not worry. You have my word that we shall undertake no hostilities for the time being. It is an unusual circumstance to meet one such as you and discover they can be reasoned with.”

  “I’m also housebroken.”

  He emits a forced laugh.

  “Do you have a name, or should I just go with ‘hey dickhead’?’”

  His lips form a thin, flat line. “Darren Anderson.”

  “Inferring I’m an animal or creature aside, you did something to my little sister. Calling you a dickhead is getting off easy.”

  “I merely sent the girl to fetch you.”

  “Not big on asking are you? Are you and your friends going to ‘ask’ me to help you with something or should I expect to be charmed?”

  He clears his throat. “I imagine there will be an offer made to exchange a favor in return for what you stole from us.”

  “I didn’t steal anything. I helped a prisoner escape.”

  “Semantics. Either way, the oracle’s usefulness had waned. I believe the others will be amenable to an agreement, provided you do a small favor for us in return.”

  “Such as?”

  “We will discuss it Wednesday night.” He backs up a step, then bows. “The Brass Tap. Ten o’clock.”

  “Right…” I stand there watching him walk off across the cul-de-sac. He takes a right at the end of the street and strolls out of sight. “I should’ve known nothing is ever easy or simple.”

  Dad appears at the door. “Everything okay?” He sniffs. “Someone grilling burgers in September?”

  A distant car door closes with a whump, and an engine starts.

  “Nope. I think you’re smelling me.” Hmm. That’s weird. Guess I subconsciously eased back my vampiric abilities from defense against sunlight to free up the power to make myself a little stronger. “Some jackass was about to threaten the littles.”

  Dad pales.

  “It’s dealt with.” I shoot a glance toward the sound of a departing vehicle. “At least for now.”

  “You going to kill anyone?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “If you have to tear someone’s throat out to protect your siblings, go right ahead. But you should skip the part where they beat you to a bloody pulp first.”

  I lean against him, laughing. “Dad, this isn’t an action movie.”

  “No, but if your sisters and brother are in danger, you do whatever you have to in order to protect them. Except for one thing.”

  “Mix Skittles with M&M’s?”

  “Okay. Two things are on the forbidden list.” Dad kisses me on the head. “That, and disappearing. None of us want you leaving ‘to protect us.’ You got that? We’ll find a way to handle anything unlife throws at us.”

  I hug him, surrendering to feeling like a little kid again for a moment. It’s so strange to think that little ol’ me has become my family’s protector, way more than either of my parents could be. But it’s kinda my job.

  At least, it is once the sun goes down.

  18

  Ghostly Wandering

  I am the exact opposite of happy.

  It’s a little after ten Sunday night and I’m stuck at home. Hunter’s bingeing homework, I think Michelle is worn out and asleep, and Ashley got roped into a graveyard shift at the vet clinic where she’s not-quite-interning. I have no idea why they have her there at this hour since all she can really do for them is clean floors and cages, dole out food, and sing to kittens. I guess she’s a body at the front desk in case someone runs in the door with an emergency.

  Someone’s gotta be there to call a vet.

  So, yeah. I get to be alone with my anxiety. It’s only a little worrying that those mystics came straight to my door. Guess I really do fail at sneaky. I should consider myself lucky they had no idea their command, uhh, ‘spell’ wouldn’t work on me.

  I’d been hoping for a little Hunter time tonight, but I don’t want to be the reason he fails out of school. Thinking about him starts putting me in the mood. Though, I’d have to go to his place. It would feel too strange trying to be romantic in here with a dead woman under my bed. For the same reason, I decide not to take matters into my own hands.

  And that makes m
e laugh at the thought.

  How many people touch themselves with ghosts watching and don’t even realize it?

  Ugh. I need to distract myself somehow or I’m going to go nuts. I eye the computer. Video games to the rescue I suppose.

  My door creaks open.

  Sophia enters, stops two steps in, and looks around like she’s never seen my room before. Upon turning all the way around, she spots the light switch and turns it on, then repeats her slow scan.

  “Soph?” I ask.

  The girl ignores me, gazing at my closet, the desk, my bed, me, and the wall with my life-size poster of my former upstairs bedroom window. Without a word, she walks out.

  Okay, that was weird.

  “Hey, Soph?”

  I listen for a moment, but she doesn’t reply.

  Shit. What now?

  I hop off my bed and follow her out into the basement. She roams down the hallway to the mini bathroom, opening all three closet doors and looking inside each one. Honestly, the girl’s like a cat that’s been relocated to a new house—if cats could do more than scratch at doors they wanted to get past. Wait, no. A relocated cat would be under the bed for days. Let’s go with dog.

  “Sophia? Are you sleepwalking?”

  She pads across to the alcove that holds the washer and dryer.

  Hmm. I don’t remember. Is it bad to wake people up when they’re sleepwalking?

  “Mommy!” screams Sophia—from upstairs. “Help me!”

  Say what? I gaze up at the ceiling.

  “Daddy!” Sophia shrieks. “Guys, stop ignoring me!”

  I stare at Sophia who’s wandering the basement ten feet away from me while simultaneously hearing her shouting upstairs. Okay. This is too messed up.

  “Someone help me!” yells Sophia, again from upstairs.

  The Sophia in front of me continues exploring the basement. When I step in front of her, she calmly moves around me. Okay, so she’s not sleepwalking. Or maybe she is? Can sleepwalkers see? Again, Sophia screams from upstairs, this time just a long horror-movie type ‘girl sees monster’ kind of shriek.

  What the hell is going on?

  I decide to leave zombie-Sophia alone for the moment and run upstairs.