Children of Sun (Oracle's Legacy)

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Children of Sun (Oracle's Legacy) Page 4

by R. B. Holbrook


  She took it to the cashier, who weighed it and rang it up. "Nineteen-eighty."

  Before Ollie could reach for her wallet, a twenty-dollar bill came from behind her. And the cashier took it, ringing her up, too impatient to ask if she objected. Ollie glanced at the cuff of the threaded business suit.

  The enforcer.

  She grabbed her bag of goodies and turned to the man, who was eyeing her suspiciously. "Thank you," she said before walking past him.

  "My men tell me you recognized them." He frowned. She had already figured those men in the newsstand belonged to him; it was just too much of a coincidence. As was the woman who had just entered the candy store and was looking around; she kept looking over her shoulder at Ollie, giving herself away.

  "What do you mean?" Ollie asked innocently as she fumbled through the bag and pulled out a handful of chocolate.

  "Who are you?" he demanded, not believing her ploy.

  She put a piece of chocolate into her mouth and chewed, watching him, wondering exactly what he wanted to hear from her. Just as she was about to touch the mind of his spy, her phone rang. "Let me put you on pause while I answer this." She winked at him before answering it.

  "It seems you're in a bind, Fire Eye." A smooth, deep male voice slid into her ear. Now, this she didn't need. She continued walking, knowing Sebastian's eyes were following her.

  "Can I help you?" she said very sternly, trying not to give away her distain.

  "Why, oh why would Sebastian and his flunkies be in the same airport as you, I wonder? Maybe someone tipped them off." He laughed.

  That bastard-ass son of a … "Funny. I did as you asked. So why the call?" She narrowed her eyes.

  "That little message you sent me wasn't cute. I don't appreciate it one bit. I've told you before not to piss me off." His voice grew icy, and she smiled.

  "I didn't have to do your little task, but out of the kindness-"

  "Quit the games. You owed me--"

  "Not a damn thing." She gritted her teeth, clenching her jaw to keep from screaming into the phone.

  "You were warned before. No more warnings." He sounded more than livid.

  She smiled again. "Since you gathered the actors all around, I might as well put on a show. Enjoy, dickhead," she said, hanging up, knowing he was there somewhere. He was such a prick. As soon as she slid the phone into her pocket, she glanced over at the two men in the newspaper stand momentarily. Letting her guard slip, she slid another piece of chocolate into her mouth.

  One of the men began to shout at the other. The other pulled out a gun, and screams followed. Sebastian ran over immediately to break it up before it got out of hand. They passed a caravan of business types, who immediately gave their attention to the conflict, causing even more chaos as the professionals began to shout.

  Slipping her defenses back on, she licked her fingers clean of chocolate as she continued walking, not the least bit concerned about the commotion. When Ollie got back to her brother, she sat next to him and popped a chocolate-covered almond in his mouth. He chewed without a word as he turned the page in his book.

  ()()()

  Atlanta, Georgia

  The meeting with Granger didn't take long. Arthur got a very flat answer from the man. No, I'm not interested. No, I will not help you. With that answer, he would have to go lower in the food chain to get what he wanted.

  Arthur already had his best agent in the field. And Elliot was a godsend. His specialty was spying on other Houses, and it paid off.

  The news Elliot had brought about the Oracle's power weakening was invaluable information. Opportunities like this came once every two hundred to five hundred or so years. To take the seat of power for a single House brought honor--honor, power, and anything you wanted. If he could bring Flame that kind of power, he would sit at the head of House Flame and make it the most powerful House in the Structure. Though now the throne of power was held by Sun, it would not be long before the choosing process began. How would that work?

  Over two hundred years ago, when the last Oracle was chosen, there was war within the Structure. Most of it was overseas, because America was still young, but now with advanced communication … How had they managed back then?

  Arthur looked down at the books and papers that now consumed his desk; they contained histories of the different Houses and new reports from the past weeks. Even his chair was not suitable to sit in. But it didn't matter. The information was there, the plan was made, and all he needed was the right pieces to click into place.

  While the different Houses were ready to go after the Oracle directly, no one knew who or where the Oracle was. Arthur, on the other hand, would work toward finding more information about potential candidates. No matter how expensive the task, he would make sure that everything was covered.

  His own candidate was hidden and safe, and he had alerted the Heads of Flame about the potential for conflict. This went over extremely well. The House of Flame put him in charge of all matters concerning the Oracle. It was clear that the ambition was mutual among most if not all in the House. House Flame had only had the honor of producing an Oracle twice since the beginning. And with that honor, they had directed the Structure well.

  Sun, it appeared, was clearly favored to get it this time too, with its prophetess who was said to be stronger than any prophet from the last five hundred years. What made her so unique was the fact that she was Sun. Most prophets came from River. It wasn't her visions that made her so unique; it was her ability to predict events using theory and probability. Her abilities alone made it no surprise that Sun had kept the Oracle position far longer than any of the other Houses. They seemed to be the most candid, intelligent, and enlightened among the Houses. But no longer would they hold Flame back.

  Even though Sun had held the seat the longest, they were of no real threat. They were not very interested in conflict, and therefore they would be easy to eliminate. The real threat came from River. With the largest House in the Structure, River had twice as many candidates as Flame. They also had Mary Alexander, one of the three River Heads of the Grand House.

  The Grand House was the ruling council of the Structure. While the Oracle was considered the overall ruler, the Oracle never actively ruled. The Grand House did. It made decisions and rules for the Structure. The Oracle only intervened if necessary, being the final word. And being the most powerful in the Structure, the Oracle was the most powerful in the world, so no one questioned the Oracle's rule. That is why the Oracle was always the most enlightened: to limit human failings.

  Those who helped bring an Oracle into power were considered honors to the House they represented and the Structure. That was why so many were preparing to do what it took to secure this honor, especially Mary Alexander. She was a ruthless woman who had clawed her way to her position. She definitely would take this opportunity, as he was going to do. But her approach would not be subtle. "A bull" was the only way to describe her. She ran headlong into everything she wanted, and when the bull charged, everyone got out of her way. So there were few who said no to her.

  Yes, she would be a challenge. But how would she begin? He would have to keep an eye on that one. Eyes …

  Arthur needed extra eyes and more information. Only the best would do. And there was one woman who could get him anything he needed. Information galore, for the right price. That was the one he would seek out.

  Getting on the phone, he began to see the pieces coming together.

  ()()()

  3

  The flight only took an hour and a half out of their morning, and they ended up in Atlanta, Georgia. Ellis had ignored her for the whole flight, with his face in his book, so all Ollie had to occupy her mind was the expensive-ass candy she'd got at the airport terminal. The minute they arrived, they went to the passenger parking lot, where a black fully refurbished 1970 Camaro was waiting for them. Ollie took the keys out of her back pocket and threw them at Ellis. He caught them, popped the trunk, and put his bags and her
s inside.

  Ollie got out her cell and began to dial, making arrangements. "Troy, brutha, we're here. We need a roof and some equipment,"

  "No doubt. See you in thirty," Troy replied before hanging up.

  After thirty minutes of dodging traffic, they pulled into a small housing complex that looked like something out of Southern Living. When they pulled up to the blue two-story house with a white picket fence, she saw a wiry man sitting on the porch with a glass of something in one hand and a cigar in the other. The thirty-year-old didn't smoke anything legal, so it was laced. And the brown stuff in his glass had to be alcoholic, because her brother's taste was attuned to only one type of beverage, even before lunch.

  Troy wasn't a big man, but his attitude was big, and anyone who was anyone in Atlanta knew him somehow. He dealt in arms--illegally, of course, but the underground market was good to him and he to it. And if the cops had any idea how his operation ran, they might catch him, but until then, all they had were suspicions. His real name was Malcolm, but she called him Troy because he was like the Trojan horse. He was that deceptive.

  Being House Stone, Troy's powers were more substantial than those of other Houses. He had the ability to disorient and distract by manipulating his body's energy and electromagnetic field to emanate light and control it just enough to create a temporary light show. Just enough to throw off a person's concentration. Like a shiny object to a toddler.

  The "underground" was what they called business that went on in the Structure, under the nose of the powerless public. Keeping it below radar was as crucial as keeping the Structure from the notice of humans without the seal: the marking on the skin that indicated what House a person belonged to and what level of power he or she possessed.

  Troy rose from his chair and met them at the stairs. His hair was more afro than it had been the last time she saw him. His sunken jaw and darkened lips began to show his addictions. His wide, dark eyes showed the kindness he could never hide. The T-shirt and slacks hung loosely on him; he had lost more weight.

  The guy seemed to be on a slow, self-destructive fixation ever since Mara had left him. The prissy bitch. She would never find a man who would be as good to her as Troy. He would have done anything for that woman. Too bad he wouldn't let Ollie hunt that woman down and scalp her. She would've done it with a smile.

  He embraced Ollie around the neck, kissing her on the cheek. "Missed you," he said. His gravelly voice and woodsy smoke aroma warmed her to the toes. He kissed her again. He let her go and put his cigar between his teeth before grabbing Ellis's hand. "Takin' care of my sister?"

  "Who else will?" Ellis said, nodding toward Troy's glass.

  "In the house, on the counter. Help yourself." He took one of the bags Ellis was carrying. "So how's the shaman and the rest of the pack?" he asked.

  She got him up to speed on family business as he showed her the arsenal of weaponry she had to choose from for her assignment, at the kitchen table.

  "It's goin' down today?" Troy asked.

  "Yeah, because as soon as he catches wind that I'm in town, he'll go ghost on me."

  "Hmm. Well, it's an hour before noon, so you better get goin'. How long you plan on stayin' in town?" he asked, exhaling smoke into the air.

  "Plane leaves tomorrow afternoon."

  "Good. Maybe I can get that stiff brother of ours into a strip club tonight." He chuckled.

  "Or maybe not," Ellis came up behind him and sat down next to a sniper rifle.

  "I'll try anyway. That one there." Troy pointed to the rifle. "A Wolfe original."

  "Seriously, Cee's Wolfe?" Ollie gleamed at its titanium alloy.

  "Um … who else?" Troy cocked his eyebrow.

  Ollie reached for it.

  "Touch it and pull back a stump." Ellis narrowed his eyes at her, making her hand stop in midair. Why did he have to be so anal?

  Troy laughed. "He pre-ordered it, darlin', so it is rightfully his. However, I got somethin' especially for you. Modified with you in mind." He put his cigar in his mouth and pulled a large, unfinished pine box from under the table. "First, you gotta tell me how you got Geo to sit in one place." He lifted the box and placed it on the table.

  "I put him on house arrest." Ollie took Geo's keys out of her pocket, dangling them. "And gave him an ultimatum."

  The man unlatched the metal clasps, before saying, "Damn, girl, you got twice the sack of any man I met." He laughed while trying to keep his cigar in his mouth. He opened the box, and inside were two double-barreled twelve-gauge pump-action sawed-offs.

  "Holy ..." Ellis stood up and looked into the box. "Where did you get the hillbilly twins?"

  "Who else? Wolfe sent 'em to me, thinkin' I'd see you before he would, and of course he was right. Then again, Cee might've told him." He grinned as he joked about their sister, the foreseer. "He said he modified them to give you twice the bang without all that damn recoil. He also sent special armor-piercing rounds for 'em--not like you need 'em. Supposedly these bad boys can blast through a vault door. Now, I ain't believin' that for a minute."

  Ellis said, "If Wolfe said it--"

  "It's true," Ollie finished as she touched the polished titanium of the barrels. "Billy and Bob. Hell, I've missed them." She grinned. "But he didn't send me a new case."

  "Girl, he ain't Mr. Stitch-It. He does weapons and mechanics, not crafts," Troy groaned, hitting her in the arm. "I'm surprised he's done this much for you, considerin' what you put his creations through."

  "And I'm surprised you're surprised, considering he still thanks me to this day for introducing him to Cee," Ollie returned.

  "I ain't believin' he gives you the credit for that. He was my partner."

  Ollie closed the box. "'Cause I brought her down here with me."

  "So I'm always reminded." He turned to look at Ellis, who was sitting, shaking his head.

  "And yet you keep bringing it up." Ellis downed the rest of his brandy. "We should get going." He stood, his height towering over even Troy. He picked up the rifle and began to break it down.

  "So what do you want for dinner this evening?" Troy asked, picking up Ellis's glass.

  "Spaghetti," they said in unison. It was his specialty, because it was the only thing he cooked well. So naturally nothing else would do.

  He paused, and a blast of laughter came from his gut. "I've missed you two." He walked to the sink and set his glass on the counter. "Homemade, right?"

  "You have to ask?" Ollie began to pack her bags. "Troy, can you send the hillbilly twins north for me? This is too much firepower for my current task."

  "Yeah." He went to the refrigerator and brought out some tomatoes. His refrigerator didn't have much to offer. He wasn't eating like he needed to. Was he really giving up on life without much of a fight? She looked over at Ellis, who looked at her. It was time for an intervention.

  After finding out where her target was shacked up, Ollie got on the phone with O-no, who helped her with the security system.

  Ollie hung up the phone. Sitting in the car, they waited for the system to be disengaged outside the club in downtown Atlanta. She looked over at Ellis, whose head leaned back against the headrest of the driver's seat. He was preparing himself. His apprehensions never stopped her from doing her job. Her twin never said the words, but he had them. He worried entirely too much about her. But it was her fault, and there was no way she could think of to ease him. Not even giving up her job would do that.

  "We have five, before the system hiccups. That gives me fifteen to get in and out," she let him know. He nodded.

  Candy. She needed something sweet. Reaching into the glove compartment, she pulled out her candy and frowned at the half eaten bag. She was running low. She took out a peppermint stick, unpeeled the wrapper, and stuck it in her mouth. Handing him the bag, she scoped out the front door of the club.

  The club was a seedy-looking one-level building that offered nothing to the already deteriorating community. It was a nasty area, but the freaks had not
come out quite yet. The only things that might be a threat were a homeless guy sitting on a trash can and a scantily clad hooker with enough makeup to be a clown, posted at the building next door. Hooser had poor taste when it came to business ventures, and this was his latest in failures. He owed yet another very connected individual. He had been cut off by Daddy More-Bucks and then his sister, and still he refused to learn.

  Boy, would this cost him. She really was tired of looking at the man. It seemed like she was visiting him every year. This time it was twice in one year. He would be dead before he was twenty-five. And she had a feeling that she would be the one putting the bullet in him. His family would be livid, but …

  "Go," Ellis said.

  His words put action into her body. All her thoughts were of the job. She got out of the car, already strapped, and ran across the street and through the alley to the side door. She slipped in the unsecured door without any problem. Once inside, the smell of stale smoke and something rancid like vomit made her nose wrinkle. There were sounds of men chuckling in a nearby room. Tranqs or bullets? She moved slowly down the hall as she pulled out her tranq gun. The debt was to be expensive, not bloody, so bullets were not in the equation.

  If she could only use her powers, she would be in and out in no time. But before she'd left, she had given her word to Geo that she would limit the use of her powers. What in hell did I do that for? Instead, she would only use them if it was totally necessary. Idiot.

  The way the men talked seemed to suggest cheap guards, or maybe club help. Then she caught a hint of what sounded like smacking. They were eating. Too easy. She turned into the doorway and shot a tranq into each one. They were sound asleep before they knew what had happened. She looked at the sleeping faces and shook her head. Hooser was on a tighter leash than she thought. They hadn't put up the fight she'd had last time. At least last time, the tranqs had taken longer to work.

 

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