I’ve learned a few valuable things: I need a wetsuit for this as a bikini isn’t going to cut it. Also, I should probably get a mask or goggles. Then again, if my suit won’t even stay on at even a quarter of the speed I’m capable of, a facemask is likely to rip right off, too. If I have to swim so fast I can’t see, chances are I’ll be running away from something like a shark, so it’ll be straight up.
Okay, now that testing is done… I’m a child. Admittedly, I spend an embarrassing amount of time playing in the water by moving my body around to see how it affects my speed or steering. Like, while doing the human torpedo thing, I can move my hands like the flaps on the side of a submarine and steer. Kinda like a little kid sticking their hand out the window of a car. Why that’s so amusing, I have no idea.
It’s a little awkward carrying my suit instead of wearing it, but compared to how fast I can swim down here, the speed at which the water rips it off me feels like crawling. Once I’ve got a decent feel for ‘flying’ underwater, I dive straight down until I land on the bottom. With no air in my lungs, I don’t start floating back up. And yeah, it does feel weird to ‘hold my breath’ with an empty chest. Even when I hid in my bathtub, I did so with full lungs like any normal person holding their breath, only for like two hours.
The lake bottom is super icky to walk on—so I don’t do it for long, deciding to fly again and practice ‘looking around for a shipwreck.’ I do find a few, but only small rowboats. There’s a car tire or two and even a full toilet. What the f—. All right. As bizarre as it sounds to be hanging out at the bottom of a lake, this ‘fishing’ expedition is starting to sound almost plausible.
I’d say sorry for the pun, but I’m not.
Okay, time to go home and get warm. For me, cold is evidently a state of mind. A morgue cooler felt fine until I realized what it was, then I became chilly. Right now, I want my bed and blankets.
I fly straight up to the surface and catch myself before pulling the drunken dolphin backflip out of the water. Giant splashes are the opposite of subtle. So, I come to a near halt, slip my bathing suit back on, and breach the surface. It takes me a few seconds to figure out where the hell I am and fly back to the tree in which I stashed my shirt and jeans. Since I’m drenched, I don’t bother putting them on and carry them with me on the maybe forty second flight home.
While flying in over the house, I notice the front door open and an unfamiliar blond guy in a grey blazer struggling to back outside like he’s attempting to steal our sofa without anyone helping him. The hell? I can still hear the television on, which means I haven’t been gone so long the ’rents went to sleep. Shit. This is not good.
My thoughts leap to Sierra and that guy who threatened to kill her over the PlayStation.
I swoop down on the front lawn. Within a second of my feet touching grass, I realize this guy and another one inside are slamming Coralie headfirst into the ward over and over again. Her spirit is standing behind the inside dude screaming at him to stop.
Oh, these must be those other mystics who scared the shit out of Sophia…
Eyes narrowed, I dash in and try to kick the outside guy in the balls hard enough to launch him onto the roof. Both men unstick from slow motion time. The guy nearest me spins to face me at normal speed, even a bit faster than me. He catches my leg at the shin and I wind up hopping on one leg when he doesn’t let go.
We lock stares.
Beard, neat hair, grey suit jacket over a white shirt with tight pants. Ugh. This guy’s so hipster it’s painful—and he’s a vampire. He’s giving me a somewhat surprised and confused look mixed with a dash of ‘go away, kid.’ The other guy’s wearing a legit suit, but he’s also got a beard halfway down his chest and like this Indiana Jones type hat. Both are maybe late twenties, and reek of craft beer and incense.
“Oh.” I hop. “Sorry. Thought you were someone else. You must be St. Ives’ people.”
He lets go of my leg.
I lean to the right enough to peer past him at my parents, catatonic on the couch. Ugh. Seriously? That’s so not cool. Bad enough Dalton ‘did it, I can’t have random vampires showing up and switching my parents off.
“Guys, really? What the hell are you doing?” I flail my arms. “My parents?”
They look at each other.
“Umm,” says the one in the back. “Nothing permanent, you should know.”
I point at Coralie. “You can’t take her.”
“You’re going to stop us?” asks the blond one.
“Well, I actually meant that in a more literal sense as in you are physically incapable of removing her remains from the house at the moment due to a magical ward.”
“Will you please tell them to stop mashing me into it? I’ve got a headache now,” yells Coralie.
Both men sigh.
“So you can see her?” I fold my arms. Yeah, I’m so totally intimidating standing here sopping wet in a bathing suit. At least when I have clothes on it’s not so painfully obvious how un-muscular I am.
“Tell her to drop the wall and we’ll be on our way,” says Inside Man.
“Give us the body.” Blondie steps up on me, though he feels more like he’s trying to order a kid sister around than threatening real violence. “Now.”
“I can’t get her out the door either. Aren’t you listening? Go complain to the mystics.”
“Okay…” Blondie does this weird Buddhist meditation breathing thing for a few seconds, like he’s trying to keep himself Zen. “Give us the body… or we’ll twist the head off one of your little thralls.”
I toss my shirt and jeans to the grass to free up my hands. “First, they are not my thralls. Second, do I have to remind you again that if you touch my family, Aurélie will rip St. Ives’ uterus out and beat her to death with it.”
They both lean back, blinking.
“Well, that was needlessly graphic,” says Blondie.
“How the hell did you even find her here?” I ask.
Inside Man shrugs. “Shadows work for favors, too. Not only for friends.”
“But… I thought they were like one big community or something.”
“Your friend must not have asked them to ‘guard the knowledge’ or whatever it is they call it.” Blondie scratches at his beard. “Look, kid. We—”
“Need to leave before I remember you threatened to harm my family. Maybe we won’t be able to perma-kill each other, but do you really want to deal with having the shit clawed out of you?” I stare at his crotch. “I’m not above fighting dirty since I’m small. And claw wounds hurt like hell for days.”
They squirm.
“Look,” says Inside Man. “It’s not personal.”
I rake my hands up over my hair and bite back the urge to scream in frustration. “Why does that woman have a bug up her ass? Will you two please just go away? Tell her that Coralie is stuck here for the time being and can’t leave. And, if she’s got some grand idea of using ‘The Oracle’ to see the future, it doesn’t work like she’s daydreaming it works. She has no control over what she sees or when she gets a look at the future. St. Ives can’t feed her questions and win the lottery—or whatever it is she wants to do. Why do you think the mystics are so willing to let her go?”
The guys exchange a glance.
Inside Man bonks Coralie into the force field again, shrugs, and sets her down leaning against the wall like an ironing board. She—the ghost—balls her hands into fists and fumes, unable to do much but scream and fire off nasty looks.
I take a step back to let the men go by. They look around at the cul-de-sac, and evidently confident no one is watching, glide into the air. Wow. They really just left without a fight. I really ought to go inside before someone notices me out here in a bikini. Grumbling, I pick up my clothes and head inside.
“You are drenched,” says Coralie.
“Wrong turn at the lake on the way home.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but just winds up staring at me.
&n
bsp; “Kidding. Experimenting tonight.” I nudge the door closed, secure the deadbolt, and pick up her body. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“No. The preservative enchantment makes me quite robust, and the ward is not exactly solid.”
I start to carry her down the hall to the kitchen, but stop short, realizing my parents are still catatonic on the sofa.
Sigh.
“Dammit.”
23
A Tentative Trust
I ease Coralie’s stiff-as-a-board body back under my bed, and pull the spread down to hide her.
As if.
Eleanor St. Ives’ people know where she is. Not sure how they realized I had the body. As far as under the bed goes, they might’ve mined that out of my parents’ thoughts. No way they lifted it from my siblings’ heads. They didn’t know the mummy was even here.
My siblings.
Shit.
I dash upstairs to find the girls in Sierra’s room on either side of a layout of Magic cards. Sophia’s on her stomach, chin on her hands, one foot up. Sierra’s sitting cross-legged, scowling at the cards in her hand. Both of them stare into space with a little drool rolling down their chins, like they’ve been exposed to a fourteen-hour marathon of Jerry Springer. For an instant, I get so furious my claws pop out… but since neither appears hurt, I calm myself and take a knee to peer into their eyes.
Sierra has a blurry spot in their memories, likely the vampires erasing their presence. Sophia, however, remembers seeing the two and knows she’s been zapped paralyzed. In her head, they both had auras, one yellow, one dark blue. Both glows have a thin layer of black under them. I don’t see any compulsions in either girl other than to zone out for a while. Their eyes flutter after I remove that command, and they resume playing cards like nothing happened.
At least for the two seconds it takes them to notice me crouching beside them.
Both of my sisters scream.
Sierra jumps back, throwing her cards in the air. Surprisingly, Sophia realizes it’s me before she starts crying from being scared, and just sits there clutching her chest.
“Crap!” yells Sierra. “Don’t do that!”
Okay, do I take the blame for scare pranking them or let them know what really happened? Meh. Sierra’s already walking on eggshells over that shooter drill, then the PlayStation threat. I can’t wind them both up in fear that vampires might just walk into the house at any time and mess with their heads.
“She didn’t,” says Sophia. “She un-froze us.”
Sierra asks “Huh?”
Damn, Sophia remembers it… but how?
“A couple bad vampires made us sit still for a while. Sare just fixed us.”
The look on Sierra’s face says she wants to kill someone, but I know that expression—she’s terrified.
“One had yellow light and one Dark blue.” Sophia pushes up from being flat on her belly and hugs me. “I didn’t wanna do what he said, but I couldn’t break out.”
I pat her back. “Well, crap. Sorry you guys.”
“What happened?” Sierra narrows her eyes.
“One of the elders that’s kinda a bitch tried to kidnap Coralie.” I explain the mummy situation to them, but don’t mention where she is. “I’m trying to get her to a safe place. You guys don’t have to worry about it, okay? Aurélie is like the oldest vampire in the area. She’s protecting us. Well, you guys at least. If someone messes with me, it’s different. But my family is off limits.”
“That’s the one who wants to stick me in a dress, isn’t it?” grumbles Sierra. “I’m eleven. I shouldn’t be extorted like that.”
I laugh. “You don’t have to. Her protection isn’t conditional.”
Sierra nods and proceeds to collect the cards she threw all over the place.
“And, let me go check on Sam.”
The girls resume their game. I head across the hall and find my little brother in his computer chair, staring at the lobby screen of Overwatch. He, too, has been ‘paused.’ To avoid a similar awkward conversation after scaring the crap out of him, I erase the compulsion to be catatonic, then dash out of the room as fast as I can go.
“Huh. Stupid game kicked me out,” mutters Sam.
Whew. Okay. I really need to relocate Coralie somewhere safe.
I rush back downstairs, zoom past my catatonic parents to the kitchen and… don’t go down the basement steps. I catch myself on the doorjamb, hang my head, sigh, then trudge back to un-pause the parents.
“Gah!” yells Mom. “Please don’t jump scare us like that.”
Dad twitches, glares at me for a second or two, then cracks up laughing.
“It’s not funny, Jonathan. You know I used to hate it when you did that to me. Wonder where she gets it from?”
“Guys.” I sit on the sofa between them. “Some vampires who work for St. Ives showed up looking for Coralie’s remains and tried to steal her. They basically paused everyone.”
“Paused us?” asks Mom. “Are Sierra, Sophia, and Sam okay?”
“Yeah, they’re fine. And you know, like a movie? Paused.”
Dad shakes his head. “Young lady, we’ve spoken about your friends coming over at all hours and mind controlling us.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he laughs again.
“Really, Jonathan?” Mom rubs the bridge of her nose with both hands. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Sorry.” I look down. “Why is it every time I try to do something nice for someone it blows up in my face? Guess I should’ve realized helping a 200-year-old ghostly prophet escape a sect of mystics would’ve put my family in danger.”
Both parents stare at me.
“It’s probably an entirely inappropriate reaction, but I find it kind of exciting.” Dad smiles.
“Life isn’t an Eighties action movie.” Mom smirks at him.
He gestures at me. “It’s coming pretty darn close. And no, sweetie, you’re not in trouble. I’m just making light of the situation.”
“Still. I need to re-home her as fast as possible. You guys okay?”
Mom’s expression says she’s not, but she collects herself after a moment, then nods.
“I don’t imagine there’s much of anything any of us could’ve done about what happened,” says Dad.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Mom reaches for the TV remote on the coffee table.
“If I was here, they wouldn’t have done it.” I stand. “Gonna go call them.”
“The vampires?” asks Dad.
I shake my head. “No, the other ‘them.’ The mystics. They need to drop that ward and let me move her.”
“And if you were here, they probably would’ve just waited until you weren’t.” Dad puts an arm around Mom. “And you’ve got entirely too many ‘thems’ these days.”
“There’s got to be something we can do.” Mom’s glare at the wall nearly burns a hole in it. She hates not having control of a situation.
“Those guys?” I grin and make a throwing motion. “Just toss a thing of beard cream to distract them and run the other way.”
Dad snickers.
“Okay, let me try to deal with this.” I point at the hall, then hurry to the kitchen. The instant my hand touches the knob, Sophia starts screaming like someone’s trying to stab her.
“I got it,” says Dad.
Nodding, I keep going downstairs. As soon as she shifts from shrieking to shouting “Get Mom or Sarah” I’m pretty sure this is an already-in-the-bathtub-plus-frog issue, so I allow myself to relax. I have bigger problems… like trying to figure out which pair of jeans on the floor of my bedroom has that mysterious business card in the pocket.
I crawl around grabbing anything denim.
Coralie walks out of my closet. “Ugh, what is wrong with those two?”
“Assuming you mean the guys trying to grab you? A lot.”
She points. “It’s in that pair. And, I mean why did they continue bashing me into the ward over and over again. Did
they honestly think it would break?”
“Thanks.” I pounce on the jeans she indicated and pull the plain white card out of the pocket. “This is going to sound silly, but I’m pretty sure ninety percent of vampires think magic is made up.”
Coralie folds her arms.
I flop on the bed with the iPhone and dial. The line rings for about a minute before someone answers. Two seconds pass in silence.
“Hello?” asks Darren, hesitant.
“Hi. It’s Sarah.”
“It’s only been one day. We’re still working on—”
“I know. It’s not that. Look, can you guys drop the ward? I really need to get Coralie’s body out of my house before some idiots cause problems.”
Darren emits a long-suffering sigh. “And move her somewhere we cannot reach her?”
“Isn’t that technically true right now? Otherwise, why did you ward her into my house? Listen, I’ll do your thing… find that box or whatever. Just, don’t be assholes about it ’kay?”
“If she is presenting problems, you could simply return her to us.”
I shake my head at Coralie. “She doesn’t want to be there.”
“What? You spoke to her?”
“Ugh. Of course. Why do you think any of this happened? Aren’t you guys supposed to be like smart or something? Do you think I just randomly figured out you existed, had a dead woman’s body stuck in your vault, and decided to help her escape?”
“Incredible,” says Darren in an awed voice. “You can see spirits.”
“Yeah, well. I kinda got one foot in the door of the afterlife.” I sigh. “Look, just please turn off the ward thing, okay? I promise I’ll help you find the books as soon as you come up with a way for me to locate them.”
“What guarantee do we have that you will?”
“Umm…” I twirl some hair around my finger. “How about I’m like super honest and never lie?”
Darren laughs.
“No, I’m serious. Ask my mom. I suck at lying. Besides, you clearly know where I live and I just want to go back to living relatively normal. The last thing I need are a bunch of angry mystics trying to mess with me. You guys don’t screw me, I’ll keep my end of the deal.”
The Phantom Oracle (Vampire Innocent Book 5) Page 21