The Oracle Series: Vols. 4, 5, & Grave Endowments

by Cynthia D. Witherspoon

  I couldn't handle anymore changes right now. I didn't have it in me.

  I opened my eyes when Cyrus came up beside me. In silence, he ran his fingers through the hair falling down my back as the press conference began. An older white man dressed in full police regalia was standing in front of a podium decorated with the emblem of the Charleston County Sheriff's Office. He waited until the buzz from the gathering press died down before he began to speak.

  "Good afternoon. As you all know, I am Sheriff James Soloman with the Charleston County Sheriff's Office."

  He looked down at the podium as if reading from a series of notes as he continued.

  "On Thursday night at nine p.m., we received a call for service to the home of Janet and Martin McRayne on Sullivan's Island. When our men arrived on scene, they found the bodies of both victims. The area was secured and our investigation began."

  The sheriff glanced out across the crowd. I wondered if he was looking for me because when he didn't find what he was searching for, he started again.

  "It is well known that their daughter, Eva McRayne, has returned to Charleston for the time being. I ask all of you to respect her privacy at this difficult time. I am open for questions, but I will not speak of the ongoing investigation."

  He gestured to the crowd and a woman stood up. She held her hand against her ear then spoke.

  "Is it true that the Sibyl saw her parents in a mirror back in Los Angeles?"

  "I haven't met Ms. McRayne in person but there is no support to that claim. Next question."

  A man this time, rumpled and dark. He leaned across the chair in front of him to get in closer.

  "Will the murders be on the next season of Grave Messages? Will Eva try to contact her parents?"

  "That's just ridiculous." Sheriff Soloman frowned. "Now see here. I do not have anything to do with Ms. McRayne's television show. This press conference is about the deaths of two citizens in Charleston County."

  "They don't care." I whispered as I watched him choose another reporter who asked another inappropriate question. "They don't care that two people were slaughtered in their town. Where are the questions about the investigation? Where is their fear about a killer on the loose? It's all wrong."

  "Are you surprised, dear girl?" Cyrus was grim. "You are the story everywhere you go. No one else matters."

  I turned the television off while Sheriff Soloman was in mid-sentence. I didn't need to know the gritty details. Nor did I want to witness the press badgering the poor man because of me. I wanted to get this whole ordeal over with and get back to the life I had made for myself in L.A.

  After I had finished my business with Elliot that is. I returned the remote to its drawer.

  "Go grab Joey, will you? I need to get a few things from upstairs before we go."

  I left Cyrus before he could answer. My keeper was too good to me. I knew he would do as I asked. So I returned to my original purpose of going upstairs. I found the closet door still open, but this time, I ignored the blood and opened the top of the jewelry box.

  The object I was after was right where I knew it would be. I lifted up the dark blue velvet box and snapped open the lid. Inside was a large sapphire necklace encased in a delicate silver setting. I moved over to the window until the afternoon sun shown down on the stone.

  This single piece of jewelry was the only heirloom my grandmother had passed down to me. I knew why she did it. I had been fascinated with the necklace from the moment I had learned of its existence. Sure, it was beautiful. Yet, that wasn't the reason I loved it so much.

  I adored the story behind it. I offered the box in my hand a sad smile as I thought of how my grandmother would sit out on the front porch with me and tell me how my grandpa had stolen it from a castle outside of Berlin during World War II. He smuggled it home as a present for her. I stroked the stone until my fingers started to tremble. It was an eternal symbol of their love to each other. And she had promised to let me have the necklace on my wedding day.

  Yet, there would be no wedding day for me. My life had turned out to be the complete opposite of what she had envisioned for me. Hell, it wasn't what I had envisioned for myself.

  I closed the box to lean my head against the window. I could see the ocean below me. A family of four were walking along the sand. Maybe they were neighbors. Or maybe, simple tourists enjoying the beach. For a moment, I was just as envious of them as most were of me. I would have given anything to be normal again. No wolves at my door. No deadlines or paparazzi. No Apollo or Sibyl or horrible violence.

  Wouldn't I? I cupped the box in my hand to rest my chin against it. If I were honest with myself, would I go back to the life I had led at UGA?

  No. Not even after this. I treasured who I was - who I had become - too much to change it now. I was the Sibyl and no one could take that away from me.

  I tucked the box into my pocket before I headed to my father's closet. He had the smaller of the two in the master bedroom. I threw open the doors, ran my hands over his polo shirts, then pushed them aside to expose the video security system hidden underneath. I'd laughed at him when he insisted one be installed after the last hurricane evacuation. Several houses on the island had been hit by looters before the owners returned. My mother had been horrified, but relented when he agreed to have the cameras placed over the front and back doors. Looters, he had argued, never stopped to think about security until they were put in jail where they belonged.

  I wondered now if murderers had the same philosophy.

  I pressed the black box on. I considered calling Joey upstairs to figure out which button would eject the DVD I was after right before I found it. I pulled out the silver disk and slipped it into a plastic case sitting on top of the electronic equipment.

  If I couldn't see my parents, I would have to settle on exposing Elliot for what he had become. This would prove to the world once and for all that the bastard was their killer.

  I was sure of it.

  ***

  The first thing we did after we left Sullivan's Island was to go shopping. Thanks to the high class clientele that often frequented the boutiques downtown, we were able to get ushered inside and hidden within a series of private rooms. Cyrus helped Joey find a good suit he could wear to the funeral. Don't get me wrong. The two of us attended black tie events all the time. But Theia was armed to the teeth with wardrobe people who knew exactly what they were doing. Which meant that Joey didn't have to know a dam thing. He wore what they told him to then returned it the next day without another thought.

  I'll admit it. I was the exact same way. I hated fashion worse than I hated being outside. But I got what I needed from the boutique, and then?

  I got more.

  I bought shirts and dresses and more shoes than I would ever be able to wear in my lifetime. I picked out purses. Jeans. Coats. I watched as the sales girl piled up my purchases behind the counter before I added more to it. By the time I was finished, I was exhausted. I pulled out the credit card that had been issued to me by Theia Productions and passed it over.

  "Take out the black dress suit I tried on. Have it wrapped up and sent to The Carriage House."

  The girl swiped the card and punched something into the computer. "And the rest of your purchases, Ms. McRayne?"

  "Box it up and send it over to the local women's shelter." I took the credit card from her and returned it to my purse. "Do you have a card or something I can write a note on for them?"

  "Of course!" The girl gushed. She reached behind the counter, pulled out a blank card and a pen. "Ms. McRayne, I must say, this is just the nicest thing. Are you sure you don't want to keep some of it for yourself?"

  "No." I scribbled my message, signed the bottom, and handed it to the girl. "Have the director sign for the packages and send the invoice back to me. I want to make sure they receive my donation."

  "Absolutely." The girl nodded. She clasped the card to her chest as if it were made of gold. "I want to tell you how sorry I am for you
r loss. From what I saw online, it seems like you are going through a horrible time."

  "I am." I tensed up despite myself. "Please, forgive me. I can't talk about this now."

  "No, I understand." The girl gushed as she typed something else into her computer. She pressed one last button before passing my bags over the counter to Cyrus. "Come back soon to see us, alright? I'll take care of the delivery myself."

  I waited until we were back in the car before I spoke. When I did, I growled.

  "Why can't people just leave well enough alone?" I snapped my seatbelt into the buckle with more force than usual. "Why do they have to be so damn nosy?"

  "It's the human condition." Cyrus raised his eyebrow at me. "Eva, did you use Theia's credit card to buy all that stuff?"

  "Yes." I nodded. "Elliot will be responsible for explaining my little shopping spree to his father. Besides, if it falls back on me, I'll just say I did it for promotional purposes. What I spent was a hell of a lot cheaper than one of the time slots Connor bought last year during the Super Bowl."

  "True." Joey leaned forward from the back seat. "So...question. How exactly are you going to extract your revenge, Ms. Philanthropist? I'm sure you've thought about it."

  "I'm dreaming of it." I admitted while I fiddled with the radio. "But if I'm honest, I have no idea. I feel lost, Joey. I don't know what to make of it all."

  "Like what?"

  "Like Elliot murdering people out in L.A. Then my parents. Not to mention the warning from Kassandra or the bounty Hera put on my head or even the creepy kid and Kampe."

  "Whoa." Joey held up his hands. "What creepy kids? And who - or what - is a Kampe?"

  "Some chick who visited me outside Percy's office this morning." I shrugged. Had it really have only been a few hours ago? It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since I fought the woman on the sidewalk. "Cyrus? Care to join in on our conversation?"

  He gave me the crooked smile I loved so much as he flicked the turn signal. My keeper made the turn onto a tree-lined street before he responded.

  "Kampe isn't a well-known figure in our history. She is recognized as a guard in Tartarus."

  "What is she doing up here?" I turned down the radio so I could hear him better. "I don't believe for a second she was checking up on me."

  "Who knows? Hades will allow his followers the opportunity to come to this plane from time to time. But as I told you, I am not convinced there was a true bounty on your head, Little One. I believe it was a facade so that Lancaster could be awarded for doing the Queen's dirty work."

  "Tell me more about Kampe." I shifted in my seat until I was facing him. "Tell me more about anything. I need a distraction, Stick. Greek stories are better than nothing."

  Usually, I tormented and teased Cyrus when he launched into a long monologue about Greek beliefs. But when he began to speak, I leaned back against my seat to listen. This felt better. It felt right. Besides, I welcomed any distraction to the dull ache in my chest.

  "There isn't much known about the she-dragon." Cyrus shrugged. "History tells us that Kampe was created by Gaia to guard the wicked souls who reside in Tartarus. In particular, she was assigned to Cyclops and the Hekatonkhieras."

  "The what?" I shook my head. "I have no idea what you just said, Cyrus."

  "You really should let me teach you Greek sometime, Evie. It would make my job so much easier."

  "Yeah, no. I'm good. I have a hard enough time with English." I nudged the elbow he had leaning against the armrest between us. "What did she guard again?"

  "You've heard of the Cyclops." Cyrus glanced at me. When I nodded, he continued. "The Hekatonkhieras were the uncles of Zeus. The story told amongst the humans was that our King of the Heavens killed Kampe to free his family members. They fought beside him and helped to overthrow the Titans."

  "Ok." I glanced back at Joey who had decided to put his earphones in to tune us out. He must have decided Cyrus' original explanation was enough to fulfill his curiosity. "You said that was the story told among the humans. What really happened?"

  "Kampe's true form is a marvel in creation. Her upper body is the human form you encountered today. Yet, her bottom half is that of a dragon."

  That explained the massive tattoo on her neck. "What does that have to do with Zeus?"

  "According to our stories, Kampe stayed hidden in the shadows. She charmed Zeus when it became obvious that he was there to kill her. She exposed only her beautiful half to him and promised to become his ally if he would allow her to remain at her post in Tartarus. He agreed and his uncles were set free."

  "So she's on our side?" I frowned. "If she is aligned with Zeus, and Zeus is aligned with me, then she is my ally by default."

  "No." Cyrus shook his head. He was inching the car through the mass of photographers who were camped outside my hotel. "Kampe is on whichever side can benefit her the most. Since Hera is still in power, it would only make sense that the monster would support her."

  "Cyrus, I love you, but you make my head hurt." I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. "Tell me another story. Just not one that involves political alliances. I don't think I have the concentration to keep up right now."

  He chuckled for the first time in days. My keeper interlocked our fingers together while he maneuvered the car into a parking space. He looked out at the photographers that were now being kept back by a line of police barriers. The mass of spectators were growing by the second. I shuddered at the thought of the circus they would create at the funeral.

  "Let's get you inside, Eva. Today has been very trying. You should eat and rest."

  "I don't want to rest. I think too much when I do." I reached into the backseat and tapped Joey on the knee. He looked up with a start. "We're here."

  "Great, I'm starving!" Joey took out his earphones and stuck them in his pocket. "Breakfast was hours ago."

  "I'm sure you can get something delivered." I shrugged. "I'm not really hungry."

  "Actually," Joey climbed out with a guilty expression. "I was wondering if I could leave you and Cyrus alone for awhile. This is my first time to Charleston. I wanted to explore the town a little."

  "Fine." I got out to stand next to him. "Take the car. But do yourself a favor and avoid the ghost tours, alright? I don't want you planning an episode here."

  "You're absolutely no fun whatsoever." Joey grinned with relief. "Sure you don't mind? I can stay..."

  "Go." I waved him off. "I'm sure me and Cyrus can find something to do."

  "You're the best, Evie." He kissed me on the cheek. "I'll meet you in the morning."

  I watched him pull his new suit out of the trunk when Cyrus took my hand. My keeper nodded towards the sudden movement of the crowd across the street.

  "We need to get inside unless you plan on talking to them."

  "No thanks." I fell silent and followed my keeper with my head down. We ignored the patrons milling around the lobby who stared when we went past them. We ignored the ones who called out their condolences to me. Under normal circumstances, I had no problems interacting with my fans. I would answer their questions. Sign autographs. Anything to keep them happy. But this was different.

  This was awful and awkward.

  By the time we unlocked the door to my room, I was ready to hide away forever. I knew that they meant well. And I really did appreciate the kind words of everyone who dared to approach me during my flight across the lobby. But I couldn't handle the constant reminders. It was too much. Especially after the emotional afternoon I'd had. I dropped my purse by the door and flipped on the lights with a sigh.

  "I don't know how I'm going to handle tomorrow, Cyrus. I hate funerals. They are so...final."

  "You of all people know that death is not the end of a soul, Eva."

  "Yeah, but Apollo said it was too dangerous to expose myself to their spirits. He banned me from contacting my parents." I couldn't say their names. It hurt too much. So I turned around to face my beloved. "They are as good as gone. My family is gone."


  "No, Little One. You have family right here." Cyrus pulled me against him. He gave me a soft kiss before he continued. "Joey, too. We may not be blood, but we are your family."

  "Hmm." I leaned back just enough to look at him. "I'm glad we aren't blood related, Stick. That's just creepy. And could you imagine the headlines?"

  My keeper smiled. "My point is that we stand by you. We support you. We love you."

  "I know you do." I rested my head against his chest. "Have I told you lately that you're the best keeper ever?"

  "No need." Cyrus rubbed my back. "I am well aware of how amazing I am."

  "So touching! So romantic!"

  We jumped apart to see a man walk out of my bedroom suite. He clapped his hands together and laughed at our shocked expressions.

  "The infamous Sibyl has a heart! The rumors circulating on Olympus has been proven false before my very eyes."

  "Who are you?" I demanded. I started to take a step forward, but Cyrus held me back. "What are you doing in my room?"

  The man looked to be about twenty years old. He wore a black ball cap decorated with a small set of silver wings. His eyes were a bright gray that seemed familiar somehow. He swept his hat off his head and drew it in a wide arch around his body while he bowed.

  "I am Hermes, darling Sibyl. How lucky you are to meet me."

  Chapter Eleven

  "Hermes? Who the hell is Hermes?" I whipped around to see my keeper had knelt down onto one knee with his head bowed. "Cyrus?"

  "You haven't heard of me?" The man's eyes widened. "Dear god, girl. But I'm famous!"

  "So am I." I shot back. "That doesn't mean anything."

  "Come. Come over here, darlin'." Hermes threw himself onto the small loveseat that dominated the center of my suite. He patted the seat next to him. "Let me educate you. You can rise, slave."