by S. E. Akers
Copyright 2015
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords or any other authorized online retailer and purchase your own copy from their store. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This eBook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
To my son, Tyler
I couldn’t have asked for a brighter ray
And, to every person who has taken
the time to send me an email or
write a review to express a few
kind words…Your sentiments have
meant more to me than you could
ever possibly know…
I had originally intended for Larimar to be the next book in the series, however, it just got bigger and bigger and BIGGER, and then all of a sudden I realized why it had: I was writing two separate stories instead of just one. So then it made much more sense to split the two and make Oculus a tale of its own.
I’ve never been a huge fan of insta-love, insta-kick ass, insta-training . . . Basically, insta-everything. That’s what is great about eBooks. You don’t have to cram everything together or rush a story along within a certain number of pages because someone’s fussing that it costs a fortune to print (and yeah, it does). If you’re purchasing this, you’re already aware that I like a longer book, filled with descriptions and tons pertinent details. Other than describing a setting, there really isn’t a lot of filler. Everything mentioned will eventually come into play whether in the current story or a subsequent one. I guess that’s just the interior designer in me, lots of “purposeful fluff” & “strategic staging”. And as much as I love the supernatural elements of fantasy & sci-fi, I like building the relationships and delving into the characters just as much and then finally melding them into a contemporary setting with the hopes of making them seem as real and genuine as what the genre allows.
So Oculus is a little different. It’s more of a Coming of Age story, focusing on what happens when distractions arise and end up muddling our paths. It’s so easy for anyone to lose focus. The hard part is putting things into perspective and then the real struggle comes when you’re fighting to claw your way back. Sometimes we stare our greatest enemy in the mirror every day, focusing on all the self-doubt and crazy that somehow we’ve let creep in there. But this will be the only one like this, more character-based and personal. And though there is plenty of magic and mayhem throughout the following pages, the rest of the books (Larimar, Amethyst, and then finally Moonstone) hold far more action and adventure on their horizons. But don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of trouble awaiting a bad-luck karma magnet like Shiloh.
So to end this…Thank you for continuing on with the story & happy reading!
Table of Contents
License — Notes
Dedication
About this Book
Chapter 1 — Unwelcome Wagon
Chapter 2 — Heads or Tail?
Chapter 3 — Worth a Thousand Souls
Chapter 4 — Disorientation
Chapter 5 — My Fair Talisman
Chapter 6 — Hoodwinked
Chapter 7 — Diamond in the Rough
Chapter 8 — Dream a Little Dream
Chapter 9 — Who’s the Craftiest of Them All?
Chapter 10 — Rainmaker
Chapter 11 — Fireworks
Chapter 12 — Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner
Chapter 13 — The Looney Bin
Chapter 14 — The Talisman Plays the Blues
Chapter 15 — That’s What Bosom Friends are For
Chapter 16 — Lady and the Vamp
Chapter 17 — Three’s a Crowd
Chapter 18 — Eye-Opener
Chapter 19 — Splitting Hairs
Chapter 20 — Unlikely Ass-istance
Chapter 21 — It’s All About the “Y”s
Chapter 22 — Out of the Ashes or Down in Flames
Chapter 23 — Wrecking Ball
Chapter 24 — Fifty Shades of Professor Grey
Chapter 25 — Starry Skies…Starry Eyes
Chapter 26 — Roman Holiday
Chapter 27 — Supernatural Snub
Chapter 28 — Say Hello to My Little Friend
Thank You
Larimar — Talisman : Volume IV : Chapter 1 — Cloud Number Nine
CHAPTER 1
TAKING A SPIN UP A WINDING MOUNTAIN was so commonplace for this West Virginia girl, I never second-guessed any of the risks. And for the record, I’d yet to cross paths with a curve I couldn’t hug in my 2 1/2 legal years of backwood roads and crazy hairpin turns. HOWEVER, everything about the untraveled path I was currently cruising along had me questioning myself in one way or another. My excitement soared right along with its steep pitch (though the dips my stomach took were totally self-triggered). Every twist and turn jostled my thoughts with random scenarios. Even the towering, leaf-laden trees shadowing my trail seemed to cloak my confidence with inhibitions. I thought all of my lingering insecurities had been stowed away—well, most of them at least—but they resurfaced with a vengeance the more miles I tallied. A smile stretched across my face when a lone structure up ahead shifted into view. From the hard edginess of the residence’s stone façade to the unpretentious embellishments that coaxed your eyes with a tender sweep, the rugged yet poised Tudor manor mirrored its owner in every way.
My Charger slowed to a stirring stop just shy of the open gate. If the name stamped on the bronze plaque wasn’t enough confirmation, the escalating beats my heart thumped out sure hit the nail on the head.
The tips of my fingers forged a rousing trail down the silver chain and halted once they had a passionate lock on the powerful little amethyst.
Ten weeks… Seventy days, I thought dreamily, already wishing for countless more.
With a couple of much-needed deep breaths now under my belt, I eased off the brake and crept down the long cobblestone drive. Every bump of my tires added even more vigor to the butterflies already fluttering in my chest. After a semi-conscious wind around the half-circle drive, I found my Charger perfectly aligned with a flawlessly seamed flagstone walk washed in a palette of warm and inviting caramels. My fingers squeezed the key as I pulled it out of the ignition, almost like I was the one who really needed the pinch. I was finally here…and this was exactly where I wanted to be.
This was to be my home-away-from-home until my classes began at Yardley in August. A prickly twinge coursed down my spine and inevitably came to a jolting stop in my gut like a sucker-punch. I could always count on “guilt” to find a crack hiding somewhere surrounding the walls of my happy-place. I’d barely left Katie over an hour ago, but that didn’t stop every inch of my vertebrae from rolling into a cringe. She wasn’t the least bit thrilled about her living situation, not like I was. Granted my bosom friend wasn’t as miserable as she’d been while on lockdown at Bea’s, but rest assured her rear wasn’t snugly planted on Cloud-Nine like mine either. Though in Katie’s new roommate’s defense, Bethesda hadn’t expected a recently “risen-from-the-dead” country-cousin to be plopped on her doorstep like a ton of bricks. Scratch that. More like a nuclear bomb, courtesy of my subtle BFF. Thankfully the—eh hem—eagerly accepting, worldly witch nat
urally presumed SHE was SOLELY responsible for her resurrection. Good for her…and us. No lies necessary. Talk about “a bonus”. Katie was swiftly welcomed by her cousin and viewed simply as what she appeared — a prized trophy the aspiring witch’s self-esteem was desperate to plop on her proverbial pedestal. Yes, a self-serving ego-boost, even if Bethesda happened to be only one of three souls who knew about the “miraculous feat” the clueless novice was convinced she had performed. Now that part of our plan took a lot (and I mean A LOT) of persuasion, but in the end Bethesda finally agreed not to reveal her crowning achievement to anyone else, especially not to any of her kooky coven-counterparts. Surely someone outside her circle would eventually find out if she blabbed. Dead cousin resurrected by a local witch? Now there was some major-network News at Six. Then there was the inexplicability of the “freak occurrence”. Her peers would have to question the validity of her claim on some level and most likely insist upon seeing her “do it again”. I’d seen crazier things, and even I would want some sort of proof. Whether it was Katie’s pleas about not wanting her parents to ever discover her resurrection out of fear that she would never have a life beyond the mountains of West Virginia or quite possibly the “shock of it all” sending them both into full-on cardiac arrests, who knows? Compelling Bethesda would have sealed the deal for sure, but that was impossible with her always wearing that charmed medallion. I still wasn’t sure what type of magic it possessed. I never could get a close enough look at it for a thorough investigation, and believe me I TRIED — but she even showered with the daggone thing! Even though I had access to all of her thoughts, AT NO TIME could I coerce that brain of hers into anything. That alone made me determined to find out what it was and what other powers it could possibly possess. I did learn that it was actually a gift from a girl named Sabra, her recently departed ex-room / coven-mate, who had apparently split town a couple of months ago. That pretty much dead-ended my investigation. Lucky for us, something eventually sank into that mindless mystical head of hers. Then again, it may have been my consistent barrage of discreet suggestions about it being a BAD IDEA that helped sway her decision indirectly. I happened to catch her out on the fire escape trying to bring a dead bird back to life on the night we’d arrived. She was hard at it too. I seriously thought her head was going to freakin’ explode from all the veins popping out on her forehead. Not pretty. But no matter how many times or how much emotion she put into the same magic words I’d heard her chanting at Katie’s funeral, nothing happened — and it wouldn’t. That’s when I saw my opening. I didn’t think a few repeated warnings about her witch-friends would hurt our cause, nor a couple of innuendos implying how embarrassing it would be for her to cry wolf. From what Katie and I had learned about the Witch-World over the past several days, it was all about politics and power. So naturally like any other arena of that sort, desperate rivals were in abundance with their jealously driven intentions leading the way. Failure in conjuring spells was seen as a lack of faith, which was construed as weakness by anyone in The Craft, plain and simple. No-No Number One. Bethesda may have been the current reigning queen of her piddly little coven, but in the vast earthly realm of witches and their hierarchy, she had as much clout as a pesky flea clinging to a dog’s derrière…and there was always a paw within reach just itching to scratch you off.
I tilted the rearview mirror for a quick check. Katie had spent over an hour on my hair and make-up, so I had to make sure all of her primping was still intact. It wasn’t a high-school dance, but she insisted my arrival today was a special occasion nonetheless. I didn’t put up the least bit of a fuss. I wanted to look especially nice, even though it had only been a week since I’d seen Tanner Grey. One thing was certain: that misty form of his had caressed way more than I’d ever expected that night. I couldn’t get him off my mind, no matter what I was doing or how hard I tried. Now sitting here just outside his house thinking about his unorthodox departure made me truly realize why he’d done it. He knew I’d want to see him THAT MUCH MORE. Oh yeah… A tease and a player. Nevertheless, I was here with my myriad of emotions in tow, wanting desperately to find out if my feelings could ever be fully returned and hoping they wouldn’t get crushed along the way. This was the perfect opportunity. No supernatural distractions… Nobody interrupting any intense moments… No one but the two of us all alone for twenty-four blissful hours each and every day.
As nervous as I felt, I couldn’t help but crack a smile when I looked down at the first closed button on my shirt. The highly contested button, I might add. Katie kept popping it open all morning, and I kept refastening it. Hell, I didn’t want to be THAT OBVIOUS, but Katie insisted if Tanner could leave me panting outside Bea’s house then I needed to pushback hard with some tempting of my own. Now that sort of game kind of bothered me, but not because I was the least bit prudish. Was I a virgin? Yes. Were my morals and convictions intact? Without question. Was I feeling emotions churning inside me that I’d never felt for anyone before? Most definitely. Did I want to hop out of the kiddie pool and take that plunge into womanhood with the other more seasoned swimmers? Abso-freakin’-lutely.
Well, at least get my toes wet for a start.
I held up the amethyst, staring thoughtfully at the stone. Seriously? It’s just ONE button. I doubted if a nun would even bat an eye. After all, my blouse does cover up the last stone Tanner gave me. I’m sure he’ll want to see that I’m capable of holding on to this one, I reasoned. Even if it does draw a little more attention to “the girls”. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen them before.
What the heck, I conceded with a shrug and then slid the tiny white button right out of its conservative little hole. (Yeah, I may have commenced with a slight lift & shift, just for good measure)
A stream of salty gusts whipped my shirt like a sail as I rose from my Charger. I brushed my hair from my eyes and panned the stunning seaside surroundings. The stately manor rested on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Atlantic. The banded flecks of sunlight glinting on the endless miles of water commanded a closer look. I wasn’t the least bit surprised by his home’s location, what with the respective source element of Tanner’s stone, nor by its placement so far away from the shore’s reach — vertically speaking. I strolled over to the edge for a precautionary peek. Though the thousand-plus feet drop looked as harrowing as the jagged rocks lying below, I felt safe by the fact that I was well out of the sea-bitch’s watery reach — at least twenty-eight and a half days out of the month. Hopefully my mentor’s wards would push that figure over to a firm twenty-nine and change. The memory of that night in the river still haunted me. The vile look blackening Lorelei’s eyes… The shakiness to her frame while she stood there silently watching the Bloodstone Talisman on the bank… And the frightful look on his face when he’d spotted her there. I didn’t take Damiec for someone who could be easily daunted by anyone, let alone scared, but something plagued my suspicions of just that. So if Lorelei’s former-lover showed cause for alarm, then I should follow his sway…and then some. I knew my moonstone was what she truly sought—her one desire that lay at the top of her Most-Wanted List—but her wrath towards me that night seemed like it was fueled by something else. Possibly? Regardless of her motives, I knew one thing rang damn-sure true: the half-Talisman / half-Leviathan had to be seething with revenge. Watching both the stone she needed to walk on land anytime she pleased, along with the rare shot of claiming the diamond wand to be right there for her taking, only to see them slip through her slimy tentacles because of a freak fate-altering stone? I shuddered while my mind conjured a few retaliation scenarios. My only consolation was a big white ball in the sky to give me a heads-up on when I should expect the vengeful sea-bitch to show her spiteful old hide again.
I glanced down at my watch, keeping tomorrow morning’s 6:02 AM moonrise in mind. Suddenly a violent wave, considerably much larger than the others I’d seen break, crashed against the stones directly below me. Its spray shot over halfway up the cliff’
s craggy face and left an irksome “hiss-s-s-s” stinging my ears.
Hopefully, I pondered as I warily scanned the murky waters below.
With a confident lock on my purse, I spun around and headed straight for the steps leading to the front door. There weren’t many flowers gracing the planters, and the overall grounds were mostly flagstone walkways bordered by manicured hedges and meticulously planted patches of green. Even the thick clumps of ivy scaling the side of the manor looked as classic and carefree as its owner.
Though the knob was brass, I gave the buzzer a firm, respectful press. I needed a few composing extra seconds anyway. Though despite my intended strategy for a relaxed appearance, I inevitably whirled around as bubbly as a champagne bottle about to pop at the sound of the door opening. My cork quickly fell as flat as my smile when I discovered an older gentleman standing before my eyes, donning a crisp black suit. Sadly, the hair on his head was the only thing “grey” about him.
“The eager Ms. Wallace, I presume,” the prim and polished looking man surmised with an obliging air.
“Yes,” I confirmed and swiftly forced a smile, trying to play off my disappointment (as well as my embarrassment). We both stood there for a moment, each of us collecting our first-impression data, though his nonchalant visual sweep held more restraint. The refined man appeared well within the realm of his golden years but hinted a subdued spryness from the grace of his precise movements. My first guess was “butler”.
“Welcome. I am Silas . . . here and at your service during the length of your stay,” he announced with a slight bow.
I placed my hand in his for a hospitable shake, but Silas abruptly flipped it around and gave it a suave peck, throwing me off-guard and ultimately tightening my muscles like a guitar string.
Silas released my hand. “Don’t be alarmed, Ms. Wallace. Though if you prefer a less chivalrous social grace, I shall adjust my approach for the remainder of your stay. My sincerest apologies.”