The Phantom Oracle (Vampire Innocent Book 5)

by Matthew S. Cox

  Which makes me wonder if there is some kind of ‘acceptable limit’ of exploiting things before they get involved. Maybe making life easier with a bit of money wouldn’t bother them at all and they’re only concerned with vampires who go off on killing sprees? Could be their role is purely to keep the public in the dark about supernatural things. Whoa. Could that mean aliens are real, too?

  My superhero identity, Follows Rules Girl, barely managed to encourage Mom’s boss not to lay her off, and only because it would’ve been based on ego bullshit. She won’t kiss his ass, so the dick would’ve let her go first out of spite. Something like that doesn’t bother me as much.

  And okay, I guess I did compel people to buy Girl Scout cookies. Is that an abuse of power?

  Thump, thump thump.

  The unmistakable sounds of a small boy approaching come from the hallway.

  Eep!

  I leap up from the bed and scramble into my clothes as fast as I can move, nearly tearing the fabric. Being able to hover in midair makes getting pants on fast super easy. A quick grab-and-toss covers Hunter up to the neck with blankets. No sooner does my butt land on the bed than Ronan, the younger brother, pokes his little blonde head in. He’s the same age as Sam, nine, but looks smaller.

  Fortunately, I managed to put everything except my socks and boots on before he made it down the hall. He looks at me, at his brother, then back to me.

  “Hey, bud,” I say. “What’s up?”

  “What’cha doin?”

  I scoot my feet back and forth on the rug. “Hanging out. Your brother’s kinda tired, so I was going to head home and let him sleep. He needs it.”

  Ronan steps into the room and points to the left. “The bathroom light’s not working.”

  Hunter shifts and yawns. “Gimme a sec, Ro. I’ll get it.”

  “Hurry. I gotta go.”

  “I can change a lightbulb.” I pat Hunter on the leg and get up, following the boy to the end of the hall and a small closet.

  If not for him watching me the whole time, I’d have skipped the stepstool, but being normal is easier than erasing memories. Once the bulb’s changed, I head back to Hunter’s room and find him up, in sweat shorts and sitting at his computer desk, though it’s not on. That computer will never turn on again after his shithead of a father broke it. Hmm. I can probably find a bargain laptop somewhere. He’s going to need it for school.

  He swings around in his chair, smiling at me. “How many vampires does it take to change a light bulb?”

  I roll my eyes and plop down to sit on the foot of his bed. “Ha. Ha.”

  “Sorry for falling asleep like that.” He runs a hand up over his head, mushing his hair around.

  “It’s fine. You’re working yourself too much. Not your fault my schedule puts school late in the day. It’s annoying it cuts into the time I can spend with you.” I stare down, wondering for the hundredth time if having a relationship with him is unfair since we’ll never have anything close to a normal life together.

  “Yeah, but it’s only a couple years.” He grins. “Kinda ironic for you to complain about not having time. You got plenty of it.”

  I sigh at him. “Yeah, but you don’t.”

  “I’m busier than hell, but the time I get to spend with you makes it all worth it.” He holds his arms out in a come here gesture.

  I move to sit in his lap, smiling at his words despite the doubts swirling around in my head. As soon as he kisses me again, the overwhelming happiness radiating from him pushes my hesitation aside.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask when we come up for air.

  “Positive. I can do homework tomorrow.”

  For the second time that night, I wind up naked on Hunter’s bed staring at the ceiling.

  I decided to let myself enjoy the time we have together. He certainly doesn’t seem to care about the unusual dynamic between us. Suppose it probably is premature for me to obsess about ‘our entire life’ together. Honestly, people our age only stay together ‘happily ever after’ in stories. I can’t think of anyone I know whose parents met around eighteen and are still together. Heck, Mom never met Dad until she was like twenty-six. Granted, they fell for each other hard. She wound up pregnant with me before they married.

  So, yeah. Before I work myself up over ‘stealing’ Hunter’s life, I need to relax. For all I know, we might not work out. Then again, he does have an entire notebook full of doodles and poems about me. If he’d have managed to find the courage to talk to me in high school, I might not have been killed. Of course, in that case, I’d still be able to get sick, grow old, and die for good.

  I blow a raspberry at the ceiling.

  Vampirism is pretty damn cool. I get why most of us leave their mortal families behind now. Constant risk to them is the only thing I regret about what happened to me. If I knew for a fact that they’d be hurt, I’d wish myself back in time like none of it ever happened. But just for myself? Nah, hell with that. This is awesome. I can make this work though. Just keep my head down and not piss off any elder vampires until the littles are no longer little. Not that I’m planning to start trouble the instant Sam moves out, but I’ll be able to relax at that point. I hope.

  I lay there for a while brushing my hand back and forth over Hunter’s chest. He fell asleep again. Okay, perhaps he had a little help in that regard. It’s almost one in the morning now and he’s got to wake up in time to do homework before his job. So, I may have ‘encouraged’ him to sleep. The plush Snoopy I got him sits prominently on the shelves above his desk watching us. Wonder what he thinks of us being together. Probably doesn’t mind since he’s still smiling.

  The pleasant silence dies a sudden death when my iPhone explodes ringing.

  Once again faster than humanly possible, I fling the covers off and dive to the floor where my pants lay in a heap, and fish the noisemaker out of my pocket.

  “Hello?” I whisper.

  “Sarah, mon cheri,” says Aurélie. “I hope you are well.”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  I bite my lip. Do I tell her I’m kneeling on the floor of my boyfriend’s room with no clothes on, a potential embarrassing situation due to roaming parent or little brother inches away at any loud noise? Nah.

  “I’m at my boyfriend’s place and he’s asleep. I was just about to head home. Don’t wanna wake up his parents.” I snag my underpants and pull them on.

  “Oh, mon dieu! Why did no one ever tell me about these PlayStation things? This machine is rather addictive.”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle and slide into my jeans before grabbing my T-shirt. “They can really soak up time.”

  “I am looking forward to meeting your sisters. When do you think you will be able to bring them to see me? I am sure Sophia would adore my dolls.”

  “Oh, yeah… she’ll either be in heaven or wind up in therapy for the rest of her life. Some of those dolls are creepy. Do straitjackets come in frilly pink?”

  She laughs.

  I set the phone down on the rug long enough to get into my shirt. “Umm, maybe tomorrow or next Friday. I can’t keep them out late on a school night.”

  “All right.”

  “And I gotta make sure my parents are okay with it.”

  Aurélie keeps quiet. Hmm. Is she surprised I’m like actually asking permission instead of just taking them?

  “Still there?”

  “Oui. Un moment. Montée dangereuse dans le jeu,” she mutters in a distracted voice.

  “Umm. What?”

  Another few seconds of silence go by before she sighs. “Oh, forgive me. I’m playing the game. The climb was dangerous so I had to concentrate. Yes, of course, make sure it is all right with your parents. They are still children after all.”

  I decide not to mention St. Ives people attacking me at Wolent’s place. Maybe the bitch will take my lack of complaining as a peace offering of some kind, and I also don’t wanna be that kid who
runs to mommy whenever someone gives me a dirty look at school. Besides, Wolent knows who sent them. That’ll cause her enough trouble. No need to involve Aurélie. Of course, she probably knows already.

  “Cool. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

  “Perfect. Good night, mon cheri.”

  “Night.”

  I hang up, pull on my socks, then slip into my boots. Feels a little weird having shoes on inside, but Hunter’s mother doesn’t care about that at all. Not like my mother. The way Mom reacts, you’d think we tracked live Anthrax around the house if she catches us wearing shoes inside.

  After kissing Hunter, I whisper, “Night. Sleep well.”

  On the way out, I pause by his mother’s bedroom door. I could be super lazy and bite her, but nah. Feeding on my boyfriend’s mom just feels wrong. It would be awkward even in an emergency with her permission. Not that she’d give it since she doesn’t even know what I am. Yeah, not going there.

  I let myself out a second-floor window and fly off toward Seattle in search of someone to eat. Oh, and I should probably buy a wetsuit while I’m in the city. The ’rents are going to bite my head off for spending money on something like that without asking first, but my father is fond of a phrase that applies here.

  Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

  26

  All Emo and Stuff

  I awake in my bed Saturday afternoon still smelling like shower soap.

  Yeah, going twice with Hunter and getting dressed without a shower happening put those clothes in the actual hamper. My laundry is divided into several floor piles. Basically, I’ve got the ‘could still wear all day’ pile for stuff I only put on for like an hour or so. Pile two is ‘too dirty to wear outside, but fine at home.’ Pile three is ‘better this than naked.’ I don’t have a pile four. Anything I would put into an even filthier category goes straight into the bin. Really, I haven’t had a situation to wear pile three clothes once, so I should probably scale it back to two piles. I mean, my room is literally fifteen feet from the machines. No excuse to be lazy anymore.

  Not having any plans yet, I ditch the long T-shirt I slept in for a tee and sweat pants from pile two, and head upstairs. It’s a moderately cloudy day, but not quite gloomy. Leaving my sanctuary of darkness before sunset is going to make me hungry by nightfall, but I want to spend time with my family.

  It’s about quarter to three when I make it up the stairs. Everyone’s in the dining room around the table playing a haunted house board game. Sophia’s sniffle-crying while trying to keep herself as quiet as possible. Sierra’s eyes are ringed with red like she’d been crying recently, but her expression has settled midway between furious and like she lost a pet. Sam is neutral, apparently oblivious to their emotional state, and focusing entirely on his arrangement of story cards.

  Strangest of all, my sisters have their chairs together and they’re sorta-hugging.

  Both girls look at me like they want me to insert myself into whatever family love fest is going on, so I head over there. Soon, we’ve got three chairs touching and I’m being hugged from both sides.

  “Umm…” I glance at Dad and Mom. “What did I miss?”

  “Sierra screamed the F word at the TV,” says Sam, matter-of-factly. “She’s grounded off video games for a week.”

  Sierra sniffles and looks apologetically at Dad.

  “I offered to play a board game with her,” whispers Sophia, “but she got mad at me, too. I said something kinda bad.”

  “It wasn’t bad,” mutters Sierra in a tone indistinguishable between surly or somber. “Just depressing.”

  I’m assuming that since Mom hasn’t said a word, she’s got a lump in her throat.

  “Sierra started to stomp upstairs but Soph yelled at her to stop.” Sam rolls dice and moves his figure around the map tiles. “Soph said like ‘please don’t be mad at me. What if you die like Sarah did and the last thing we did was fight?’ That made Sierra cry.”

  I choke up. “W-what?”

  “I’m sorry.” Sophia hangs her head. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was mean.”

  “No, you’re right. Any of us could die whenever,” says Sierra while staring into the table. “We almost lost Sarah. What if me or Sophia or Sam don’t come home from school someday? We shouldn’t be crappy to each other.”

  And… I’m done. I squeeze them together and sniffle right along.

  The parents both cringe. Neither one of them have said much about their fears concerning a lunatic showing up at the littles’ school, but they have to be thinking about it. I’m sure they’re also well aware how much it’s affected Sierra. I’m tempted to erase the idea of it from her head but I can’t keep doing it every time the school runs a drill. As freaked as she is now, if I got rid of the very concept that someone could hurt her at school, the next time they run an exercise, it would completely traumatize her.

  Mom dabs at a tear while Dad gets up and comes around the table to give us all a squeeze. At that, she also clings to the group hug from behind.

  “I’m getting diabeetus,” says Sam. “Will you guys stop being like all emo and stuff?”

  I sputter into a giggle.

  Dad lets out a heavy breath.

  Sam puts his cards down and crawls under the table to add himself to the family hug by climbing into my lap—but only for a moment before he slips down and scrambles back to his chair.

  “Sorry for swearing, Mom,” says Sierra barely over a whisper.

  “Another idiot say something in the game?” I ask.

  “Nah. The controller died in the middle of a match.” She takes the dice when Sam pushes them close to her. “We’re out of apples.”

  I snicker. “Not sure that would’ve helped. Or were you already having a bad match?”

  “Nah. I was doing okay ’til it stopped working.”

  The game’s well into progress, but I add a character and draw a hand of cards anyway. Ooh, enchanted crowbar—the best weapon. Dad mentioned it was a reference to an old video game, but I don’t remember which one.

  Mom and Dad return to their seats and we resume playing. Sophia stops crying, though she’s hanging on me like we’re adrift at sea. Sierra goes back to her normal personality in a few minutes, or perhaps a slightly more vulnerable version thereof. She keeps leaning against me, and even tolerates my arm around her shoulders while I’m not moving pieces or rolling dice.

  The game ends in a little less than an hour with everyone in much better spirits.

  Mom glides over to us as we’re packing up, giving us each a brief back pat. “I’m thrilled to see you three getting along so well, but”—she looks at Sierra—“you’re still grounded for a week.”

  Sierra draws in a breath to snap back at her, but holds it.

  I stare at Sierra, trying to see into her thoughts. The ambient light in the room dials up from ugh to ‘shit! ouch!’ for a few seconds. Fortunately, it’s dim enough inside that I don’t need to be in a life-and-death (or should I say a death-and-deathier) situation to redirect power from shields to primary weapons so to speak. Still, it hurts like hell, so I only manage a brief peek before my brain snaps back like a hand off a hot pan. Sierra wasn’t acting nice in hopes of changing Mom’s mind about grounding. Sophia’s remark about any of us—well them—dying at any minute stabbed her straight in her anxiety gremlin over school shootings.

  “She wasn’t playing nice to get off being grounded.” I grab Sierra and hug her despite the squirming. “You just really hurt her feelings.”

  Mom cringes. For an instant, she looks guilty, but covers it up with a cough. “Sarah, don’t read your sister’s mind.”

  “Yeah,” says Sam. “It’s below your grade level. You should read something harder.”

  Sierra raspberries him.

  “Sorry.” I try not to glare at my mother. “Exigent circumstances. You really didn’t need to poke her about that.”

  That Sierra hasn’t yelled ‘get off me’ by now is roughly
equivalent to Sophia bursting into tears.

  “I…” Mom sighs at the rug. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not even sure why I said that. Stress from work probably.”

  “At least you don’t have to worry about being laid off.” I smile.

  “You messed with your mother’s job?” asks Dad.

  “I claim plausible deniability. A conversation may have happened, but it was just some random girl dropping off Girl Scout cookies.”

  “Okay…” Mom walks over and collects Sierra from me, hugs her, then pats her on the shoulders. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. How about a compromise offer? Instead of a week of no video games, you vacuum all the carpeted areas and help me with the windows tomorrow instead? Your choice.”

  Sierra thinks it over for about eight seconds. “I’ll do it.”

  “Hey, it’s Saturday. Sarah doesn’t have class.” Dad claps his hands. “Movie time?”

  “What particular strain of Eighties cheese are we to feast upon tonight?” I ask.

  “I was thinking Ice Pirates.” Dad rubs his chin.

  “Can it wait an hour? I gotta vacuum stuff,” says Sierra.

  “That sucks,” mutters Sam.

  Sierra and Sophia groan. Mom facepalms. I giggle. Dad scoops him up like he just scored his first touchdown.

  “He punned!” Dad fake-sniffles. “I’m so proud.”

  “C’mon.” I pat Sierra on the shoulder. “I’ll help move stuff out of your way.”

  27

  Small Price

  Sierra finishes vacuuming the house, including the main basement room, with a few minutes to spare before dinner.

  That means Ice Pirates waits until after we eat. And, being that Mom made spaghetti, I don’t at all feel guilty about ‘wasting food.’ Hmm. I might as well throw this out there now while everyone’s in the same place.

  “Umm, Mom? Dad? Aurélie asked if the girls could visit.”