“I better get to class,” I said, taking my still-full plate with me. I heard Celeste and Peter fighting quietly as I wandered away.
THE HALLOWEEN PARTY was held on Saturday night. Like the first party of the year, the schedule was the same: wait till Professor Springer was snoring in her little bed, and then sneak out in pairs of twos and threes. Margot announced this in the living area, staring directly at me as she said, “If all of you dare to come, know that there won’t be any teachers present to take care of you. Whatever happens, happens.”
I raised my hand, wanting to ask something snarky about if she was going to let me go on another solo sailing expedition. But she turned her face away from me, addressing the girls on the other side of the room. “I know tonight will be amazing. And I hope that all of you have gotten your costumes together. It’s Halloween, after all! The sluttiest, evilest day of the year.”
Even though Celeste really didn’t want me to go to the party, she had still gotten really excited when we had plotted out our costumes. To pay homage to the shitty thing Margot had done to me, I had decided to go as Cleopatra, while Celeste had decided on a black cat. “It’s boring, sure,” she smirked, “But you can get super slutty with it, and Peter prefers it when I wear fewer clothes.”
“Fair enough,” I winked at her and then laughed.
Celeste and I helped each other get dressed just after ten when we heard the other girls whispering and preparing for the night ahead. Neither of us had mentioned the topic of my birthday all day. It was our very own elephant in the room, and we were dancing around, laughing and playing music. I told myself these were the last few hours of my normal life, and I was going to enjoy every single fucking minute.
For the outfit, I donned a gold dress, which snuck down between my breasts, cupping them evenly. The dress ended at mid-thigh, allowing my thin legs to stretch out beneath me. My shoulders looked regal and strong, my arms slender. I wrapped a choker necklace around my neck and then added an Egyptian crown to my head. Celeste did my makeup: cat eyes with eyeliner, drawn-out half-way toward my hairline.
Celeste really maximized her cat sluttiness to her credit. She wore a slinky little black dress, a tail, and fishnets. She wore heavy eyeliner and bright red lipstick and finalized everything with some cat ears on top. She looked absolutely fantastic.
“We should take a picture,” I suggested. Even as I said it, I knew that it was going to be the final photo—before everything changed.
We took a few selfies. I felt like our smiles looked a little sad, although that might have been just a projection. I held her tight against me, wearing a pair of white gloves—careful not to catch her future or her past. I only wanted her present. I wanted her right then.
Celeste drew her hand over the handle of my door, glancing back at me. “If you’re really sure we should do this...”
“Stop!” I cried. My stomach clenched with fear. Basically, everything inside me told me to turn back, to stay home. I didn’t fucking know what was going to happen. But I had to be brave—like Mom had been when she had left everything she’d ever known to go into the world and meet Dad. Brave in the way that she’d been, unfurling her arms and telling the world to give it whatever it was going to give her....
If I was going to get my powers, I wanted to do it in style.
Celeste and I walked quietly from the dormitory, winding toward the line of trees near the docks. From the trees, we could hear the thuds from the DJ table. The leaves actually shook on their branches. Celeste grabbed my gloved hand and squeezed hard, giving me a bright-eyed glance.
When we appeared at the party, I felt the stares immediately. Since the incident in the attic, everyone had been treating me like even more of an unwelcomed bitch. It was obvious that Margot fucking hated me—and everyone was petrified of Margot. Since I had broken the windows and escaped the attic and acted like such a wild card, I was sure they didn’t know who to be more scared of. But Margot was still in charge.
“Let’s grab drinks,” I knocked Celeste’s shoulder, indicating her to follow me.
Celeste and I marched to the drink table and grabbed two glasses of champagne. We clinked them together while she mouthed, “Happy birthday!” and gave me her signature grin. I shivered. It was just past eleven at night, which meant that my birthday was in about 55 minutes.
Which meant I had less than an hour to forget.
We scampered out on the dance floor and began to shift against one another, careful to keep our skin apart. Other people on the dance floor eyed us suspiciously but were soon a bit too drunk to care. People were dressed as movie characters, 1920’s flapper girls, slutty burlesque girls, men who raced cars, men who raced horses.
Of course, that’s what everyone did on Halloween—try to dress up in the best, most outrageous costumes. I guess everyone was just trying to escape their own reality. That’s what Halloween was all about.
Across the dance floor, I spotted Margot standing next to Ezra. Ezra hadn’t bothered to dress up—hell, he already looked plenty terrifying all the time, anyway. He wore just a black t-shirt, with his tattoo snaking out beneath the sleeve, and a pair of tight black jeans. He looked like he belonged in some kind of punk band. Margot had decided on being a French mime—how typical. She wore a striped shirt, with white powder on her face and a little red beret perched on her hat.
Despite how cute she looked, though, her face was scrunched up. It was obvious she was yelling at Ezra for something. I tried for a second to focus on her lips—to propel my thoughts toward them to listen in. But I think Celeste sensed that I was trying to use my powers. She grabbed my hand and tugged at me, shaking her head.
“Don’t. Not right now,” she shot at me. “You have time for that later.”
I rolled my eyes, grateful to her. “I’m too nosy, I guess.”
We drank another glass of champagne, and then another. I felt the minutes ticking away, like soldiers marching to their death. But god, I felt delicious.
I realized I had lost Celeste a bit later. I glanced around, hunting for her. Probably, she was off making out with Peter somewhere, half-drunken and totally in love. I shrugged it off, wanting her to have a good time. Maybe it was the booze, but I was having a fucking killer time alone. Nobody would really talk to me since they had allegiance to Margot or whatever. But all I needed was my body, the music.
I rounded back to the drink table, my brain fizzing. As I approached, Raphael sprung out in front of me, blocking my way. He stood over me, six-foot-three and muscular, entirely powerful.
“Are you trying to intimidate me, Raphael?” I asked, my voice saucy.
Raphael seemed a bit taken aback. “Um. No.” He took a step to the side. “I wanted to tell you that you look really beautiful tonight.”
“Oh?” I looked down at myself and then back up at his gorgeous face. I didn’t know what else to say, so I bit my lower lip waiting for him to say something.
“Not—not just beautiful,” Raphael continued. He glanced to the ground, his cheeks growing faintly pink. “I think you look super fucking sexy. Goddammit. Do you know who you’re making wild with jealousy tonight? Margot. She won’t stop yelling at Ezra, me and Quintin to stop looking at you. But fuck it, Ivy. You’re gorgeous.”
He moved forward a bit, his lips eager and shining. I draped my gloved hand across his chest, pressing against him slightly. Was I going to have a vision every fucking time I touched someone? Maybe not. I needed to test it. I glanced at the side of the party, where some of the boats shifted against the docks in the darkness.
“Let’s go over there,” I whispered.
Raphael followed behind me. I could feel his eyes on my ass, sweeping across my thighs. In his eyes, I really did feel beautiful—not like the weird monster; everyone thought I was. I knew that men could be weak, brought down with a single slinky dress. But just now, I was enjoying the power.
When Raphael did finally kiss me, he pressed me against the pole that one of the boats wa
s attached to. His lips were tender, soft, and totally different from his gruff demeanor. I let out a soft moan as he kissed me, drawing my lips apart and entering me with his tongue. I hardly had the chance to be grateful that—for whatever reason—I felt no prophecy coming. It was just him and me, and the growing wetness at the juncture between my thighs. I pressed my breasts harder against his lower chest, eager for him to feel me. I felt the girth of him press against me and drew my hand over it, squeezing it through his pants. He let out a groan.
Quickly, I drew my hands toward his belt and unlatched it, shoving his pants to the ground. We were deep in the dark, with only the moon and the stars giving us any sense of light. My fingers crept under his waistband. I knew I was driving him absolutely crazy with me snapping at his waistband, flirting with touching his cock. He bit down hard on his lower lip, revealing those shiny, sharp teeth.
He unbuttoned my Cleopatra dress hurriedly, thrusting it down. I hadn’t bothered with underwear or a bra—thinking, maybe, that I wanted to fuck. I don’t know. Maybe I was just as slutty as they said. I stood with my legs wide, watching as his fingers dove into the soft peach darkness between my thighs. I dropped my head back, whispering to the sky, “I need you inside me.”
Raphael tore forward, dropping kisses across my neck. He yanked his legs out of his underwear, drawing his cock into the air between us. He pressed me harder against the pole, lifting me up—preparing to enter me.
That’s when I heard Ezra’s voice behind him.
“No. Not like this.”
My eyes sprung open. I craned my neck a little to see Ezra and Quintin standing behind Raphael, their faces stoic and mean. I was completely naked, as was Raphael—and the feeling of being watched was alluring. My nipples were rock-hard in the night's air.
Even with Raphael’s body pressed against me, I still felt just exactly right there in time.
Still, no vision.
God, I was so glad.
But Ezra took a dramatic step forward, saying, “This isn’t right. Not against the pole. Not like this.”
Ezra reached toward me, beckoning me. I was half-drunk and sensual, so I draped my hand over his palm and allowed myself to be led toward the other side of the dock. A little shack stood there in the moonlight, complete with a porch swing in the front and plants growing at the windowsill.
“Some of the boat guys live down here. But they’re away this weekend,” Ezra muttered. His eyes glittered like he was on a mission. At the door, he drew a key out of the mailbox and opened it easily, like he had done this a million times before.
I could feel Raphael and Quintin coming up behind us. I tried to yank my hand away from Ezra, but he held fast.
“Why are you doing this, Ezra?” I whispered. “You act like I’m scum. Like I don’t deserve to be here, but now...”
Ezra seethed. His fangs flashed out as he said, “You know I can’t let them have something I want first. That’s not how this works. I’m a vampire. Don’t you understand what that fucking means?”
I didn’t. But I was beginning to.
The little shack was a single room—just a kitchen at the front and an enormous king-sized bed in the back. It smelled clean, like lemons. Raphael and Quintin entered the door as well, stretching out against the kitchen countertops, watching. Raphael had grabbed his pants and donned them again.
I was dripping wet. I’d never been wanted so badly before.
And I had no fucking clue what time it was.
Ezra lifted me into him, kissing me softly, but the softness didn’t last. He forced my lips open, exploring me with his tongue. His lips found my neck; his teeth tugged at my ear. He pressed me against the top of the bed, watching my tits bounce. He tore off his t-shirt, then removed his belt, his jeans and his boxers. His cock was enormous—longer than Raphael’s, if not as thick. I tore myself back to the far end of the bed, my heart thudding with fear. There was something about Ezra’s eyes that I didn’t know if I could trust—like maybe he would actually have taken me to this shack to tear into me—to drink me.
But no. Ezra moved over me almost gently. He rubbed my clit slowly, whispering, “You know, Ivy—you’re the only one who’s seen images of past, my childhood.”
“What?” I murmured, my voice catching. I felt like any minute he could wrap me up in an impossible orgasm. Every part of my body felt like it was on fire.
“You saw the moment that everything changed for me. The moment I changed,” he continued. “I know what you saw that day. I don’t know how you did it or what you’re capable of, but it fucking terrifies me. And I’m not used to being terrified. It fucking turns me on.”
He slipped into me, filling me completely. I gasped, arching my back and drawing my hips against his. We built up a rhythm, his chest pressed against mine. My eyes were only half-open and bleary. I dragged my fingernails down his back, knowing instinctively that he was the kind of guy to like a little bit of pain. He moaned. “Yeah, baby,” he muttered. “Goddammit.”
The fucking grew more violent. Maybe I wanted that. He drew his hands around my wrists and thrust them down on the mattress. With his hands gripping me harder, he fucked me hard, his face changing, his breathing staggered. It was actually nice to see him so vulnerable — the vicious vampire, Ezra—sweating and panting and horny.
I had done that to him.
In the midst of fucking, I felt my gloves come off. I didn’t care—hardly thought of it. But that’s how I figured out; it was my hands that brought on the visions. Because when Ezra brought his hands up to grip mine, I felt an overwhelming panic—knowing I was being cast back into his memories.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Not in the middle of—
It was too late. I saw it all over again. His father’s lips, dripping with Ezra’s blood. I heard Ezra’s cries, loud enough to rip through your skull.
“Stop! Stop!”
I forced myself out of Ezra’s brain and blinked up at the ceiling. Ezra had stopped the rhythm and lay on top of me; his cock still deep inside of me. He had stopped holding my hands and instead gripped my wrists again.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I whispered, trying to sound gentle. I actually felt for him, especially after seeing this horrendous vision of his past. God, watching your father drink your blood— it could turn anyone evil.
Ezra drew up a bit. He looked at me with glowing eyes and for a moment, I thought of compulsion but shook off the thought. This seemed genuine, a mutual respect that was growing between us. My entire heart beat only for him. I’d forgotten about the other boys behind him. I had forgotten about everything else. He dropped his mouth over mine and kissed me like in the old movies, with love aching on his lips.
I thought we’d avoided it—the vision destroying our lovemaking.
But I’d forgotten.
God, I’d forgotten.
His hand released my wrist as he sat up straight, smelling the air. His face was marred with confusion as he looked down across my stomach, his eyes wide in shock. Aunt Maria had warned that my mark would appear the minute the clock struck midnight on my seventeenth birthday. I felt the skin begin to burn like someone was burning my skin with a hot poker.
My face scrunched up with pain and Ezra jumped off me and stood with the rest of them gazing down at me.
“Fuck. Fuck...fuck...” I groaned in pain.
Ezra’s eyes became enormous. “Why is your skin burning, Ivy... What the fuck is going on?”
Panic flooded through me. I glanced back to Raphael and Quintin, who both looked anxious, hovering around like they didn’t know what to do.
“What time is it?” I demanded.
“What?” Raphael asked.
“What time is it?” I yelled, irritated.
“What the hell does that matter?” Ezra cried out from where he stood.
“It’s twelve o’clock exactly,” Raphael answered, glancing at his phone.
“Fuck,” I said again.
I could feel the powers overtaking me.
It was like having hot water poured over you. It was nothing you could question. I tried to look down at the surface of my stomach and watched as a band of chalice circles traversed across my stomach, like a band of red ambers. My head arched back against the pillow and my teeth clenched tight as another wave of intense pain rippled throughout my body.
I had no idea how painful any of this was going to be. I just hadn’t understood it.
My head fell back from exhaustion and slowly, I felt myself lift off the bed. I don’t know how but was of my own accord, and I could feel the magic flowing through me, through my bloodstream, drawing me into the air. As I lifted, Ezra finally slipped on his jeans quickly. I could see the frightened look in his eyes.
“What the fuck! Her skin... it’s glowing.”
My eyes popped open. I was completely naked, hovering about two feet over the top of the bed. My heart beat was steady, my head sure. I had never been more certain of myself. With a tender motion, I lifted my back and head, so that it looked like I was sitting down, although I was floating in the air. My hair hung in wild streams across my shoulders. I looked down at my glowing, porcelain skin—and then turned to look at the boys.
It burned brightly and I remembered what Aunt Maria had said about the symbol: that it was an ancient and universal symbol of unity, sacredness, wholeness—that it represented infinity, the goddess within us all, feminine power, and the sun.
I felt all of that power unite within me, becoming something even bigger than the sum of its parts.
God. The power I felt course through me was overwhelming.
Ezra took a step back alongside the other two.
“What the fuck are you, Ivy,” he finally said.
I gave the boys my purest smile, before stretching out my legs and dotting them on the hardwood floor of the little shack. “An oracle, Erza,” I began. “I am the one that will keep the alliances among our races at ease and prevent war from happening.”
After a pause, I giggled gently, whispering, “However, I think perhaps all of you have fucked with the wrong supernatural.”
The Forbidden Oracle Page 16