Oracle: A Diana Hawthorne Psychic Mystery Book

by Carissa Andrews

  “I suppose get set up in the hotel, check in with Aiden to see if he has any new leads, and… I don’t know, see if you get any sorta read on things.”

  I nod, keeping my eyes fixed on my drink.

  Yeah, certain amount of sense there.

  I blank out for a moment, considering his words. I cock my head to the side, making a face.

  I haven’t had a single read on things since we got on the plane. Not one.

  Usually, I get snippets here and there—but this time—nothing.

  Casting my gaze to the aisle, I sit up straighter.

  “Everything okay? You’re not going to be sick are you?” Blake asks, suddenly serious.

  “No,” I shake my head. “At least, I don’t think so. No, it’s just—I’m not picking up anything on the plane. In fact, I haven’t gotten anything since we got on board. Hell, I don’t remember the last time I got a reading on anything.”

  “You know, if you’re just trying to cop out so you can’t prove me wrong, you can just say so,” he smirks.

  “Shut up. It’s not that,” I say, smacking his shoulder with the back of my left hand.

  “Look, there’s been a lot going on. A lot to digest and take in. Maybe your senses—or whatever you want to call ‘em are on overload.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Give it until we’re settled in at the hotel. Then, if things are still not working out, you can freak.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Well, you are on your fifth drink,” Blake says, his eyes twinkling.

  “This is my fourth, thank you very much,” I say, holding my chin up higher. “I still know how to count.”

  Blake squints, shaking his head and pursing his lips.

  My mouth drops open.

  “Five? Really?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh, well. Bottoms up,” I say, downing the contents.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty. Time to get off the plane.”

  My eyes fly open and I instinctively wipe at my mouth.

  “Holy shit. Where are we?” I say, shaking away the cobwebs. Instantly, I regret it. My brain thuds against my skull, making the world spin.

  “Ugh.”

  I close my eyes, raising my hands to either side of my head.

  Blake chuckles, patting me on the shoulder.

  “We landed a couple of minutes ago and we’re just waiting for the seatbelt light to turn off,” Blake says.

  “Oh my god, why did you let me drink so much?” I mumble.

  “I don’t think it was a matter of ‘let,’ Diana. You’re a big girl,” he casts a knowing look, “who apparently can’t handle her alcohol.”

  I groan.

  “I don’t remember the last time I had a drink. It’s been … years.”

  “Well, that would explain the lack of control.”

  I pop one eye open and glare at him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The seatbelt light clicks off and a loud dinging broadcasts over the speakers.

  “Welcome to Rome. The weather outside is 46 degrees and sunny. You’re now free to unbuckle your seatbelts and make your way to the front exit,” the perky flight attendant announces.

  “Saved by the bell,” I say shooting Blake a sideways glance.

  He quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over me to open the overhead compartment. I shift back in my seat, all too aware how close his torso and nether regions are to my face. The thought makes me squirm in my seat.

  “You know—I could have gotten our stuff,” I say, clearing my throat.

  Blake looks down with a crooked eyebrow.

  “Have you stood up yet?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from his words.

  “Don’t be a dumbass. You know I haven’t.”

  “Well, I figured I’d save you the uncoordinated attempt as you try to get your land legs back.”

  He drops my carry-on in my lap and throws his over his shoulder.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  I feel like I’m swimming in space and time. Light from the cabin meshes around me in strange swirls and I close my eyes again.

  It was a bad idea to drink.

  After a few minutes, the doors open and a mad dash exodus occurs. I stay in my seat, refusing to budge until the last person has been herded from the innards.

  “I think it’s safe to go now,” Blake says, gently reaching under my arm and lifting me to stand.

  He’s right—standing is worse than sitting and I rock slightly from side to side, trying to awkwardly stay vertical.

  I hate that he’s right—this whole standing thing sucks.

  Stumbling down the aisle with Blake dragging me along, I can’t help but long for somewhere flat to rest.

  “She’ll be okay. She’s with me,” I hear him say.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Hate flying,” I say, trying to sound more aware than I feel.

  “Welcome to Rome,” the flight attendant says, shaking her head.

  A coffee pot whirrs to life as it grinds beans somewhere nearby.

  My eyes fly open and I bolt upright.

  The blankets fall to my lap, revealing my torso in all its undergarmented glory.

  “Why am I in my underwear? Where are the rest of my clothes?” I screech, clutching the blankets and pulling them close to my chest.

  “The maid service has them,” Blake says unfazed, stirring sugar into a coffee cup.

  “Why—?”

  “Because you threw up on them in the Taxi and I figured you wouldn’t appreciate sleeping in regurgitated stomach acid.”

  My eyebrows tug in and I make a face.

  Great impression, Diana.

  “Oh,” I sigh. “Well—ah—thanks.”

  “Don’t worry—I didn’t look. Much,” he grins, walking to me and handing the cup over.

  “Wonderful,” I glare back, taking the offering.

  “They should be back here soon,” he says.

  “Where’s our luggage? I could just change—”

  Blake shakes his head.

  “It didn’t make it. The airline’s looking for our stuff. Guess you had the right idea.”

  “See? See—this is why I pack light,” I say, flipping my hand up.

  “Just as well, anyway. Once we got threw Customs—thanks for holding it together until then at least—you pretty much turned into a jellyfish. I didn’t know how the hell I was gonna get you back here—and have to deal with the luggage on top of it.”

  I clutch the hair on the side of my head, “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just—I don’t do well with flying, or cars— It all makes me really anxious.”

  “Funnily enough, I did catch onto that.”

  I run my hand over my face.

  What a mess.

  “How long was I out?” I ask.

  “Not super long—long enough to sleep it off, though, I’m hoping.”

  “Okay, Mr. Cryptic. Wanna be more specific?”

  “Well, it took some time to finagle you to a taxi… You weren’t entirely with it. You know? So, I suppose, thirteen hours. Give or take.”

  “Holy shit—what? First of all, why the hell would you let me sleep that long? Second of all, how freaking slow are the maids at this place?”

  “It took us a couple hours to get here. I had to get you…ah, situated—then checked in with Aiden. I slept for about five hours and now, here we are. Aiden’s just gotten a lead, so I figured it was time to get you up and moving.”

  “Shit,” I mutter, sipping my coffee tentatively to test its temperature. The sugar content and milk are almost perfect.

  I blink up at him, surprised he can make a cup of coffee this good.

  “Don’t worry—it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  “I’m such a dunce. I’m so sorry, Blake. I never should have put you in that position,” I say, biting my lip.

  “It’s no big. Really. We’d just be getting going now, anyway.”
>
  I close my eyes and ignore the thumping at the back of my head.

  “You said—you mentioned Aiden has a lead?”

  “Yeah, if it pans out, we won’t be staying here long.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask, taking another sip of coffee. My senses and wits are returning to me after the idiotic booze haze.

  “His facial recognition system caught something in Greece. One or more of the men are there and it looks as though they’re getting comfortable. They must have bailed on the U.S. girls to move a different group here. I suppose it makes sense if they were worried about being apprehended. If we’re careful, we might be able to move in on them where they feel safe.”

  “That’s—that’s great news,” I say, my eyes widening slightly.

  Greece.

  A knock at the door makes me jump.

  “Room service,” the voice says on the other side.

  “Ah—drat. Must be your clothes,” Blake says with a mock frown, then winking. He walks to the door and opens it just wide enough for his body to block the doorway.

  “Thank you. Much appreciated,” he says, handing the woman on the other side some money before he closes the door.

  He turns around, smiling triumphantly.

  “Just in the nick of time,” he grins, clutching my clothes to his body.

  “Wonderful,” I say, holding my left arm out for them.

  “Uh uh,” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Blake,” I warn, “don’t be a creeper. Give me my clothes.”

  “Oh, I will. But first—I have some questions.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Leave it to a man to blackmail a woman with her own clothing.

  14

  BLAKE STANDS FEET from me, holding my clothes just outside of lunging distance.

  I consider reaching for them anyway. It’s not like he hasn’t seen the goods already. And honestly—after all these years, the last thing I have is an over-abundance of pride for human nakedness.

  “What questions?” I say, letting curiosity get the better of me.

  Blake narrows his eyes and chews gently on the side of his lip.

  I cock an eyebrow and sigh loudly as I place my coffee down on the nightstand.

  “Okay, okay. I’m trying to—I don’t know. I need to trust you and I just—I waffle back and forth.”

  “You sound like a breakfast food. Would you just spit out what you want to say?”

  “Fine,” he says, nodding. “Truth—how did you really know about my relationship with Aiden. He told you, right?”

  I shake my head. Until I have the chance to really show him what I can do—he’s not going to believe me.

  Why would he, I suppose? I wouldn’t either.

  “Look Blake, I get this doesn’t fit in your world view, but I am exactly who I say I am. I pick things up—I always have and probably always will. Don’t ask me why I don’t get a read off you because I don’t know. You are literally the first person this has ever happened with. The first. The only. In my whole life. At first, I thought it was nice—a breath of fresh air after having to constantly ward myself. But now, hell, I wish I did pick up on your shit because it’s driving me a little bit nuts.”

  Blake’s eyes widen, then narrow.

  “Can you—I dunno how this stuff works, but can you shut if off when you want?” he asks.

  “Did you hear me when I said the warding bit?” I say. “I know we talked about that when we first met, so don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

  “What happens when you’re around a ton of people? Like the airplane. Would you have normally been flooded with their bullshit? Or can you focus in on what you really need to—or not, I guess?”

  The tone in his voice tells me this line of questioning is still all hypothetical to him—but he’s playing along for the sake of it.

  I sigh again, trying to decide if I should quit while I’m ahead, or keep going until I feel like bashing my head in.

  “Depends,” I shrug. “Most of the time, it’s like turning down the volume—but it’s technically always there. Things stream in and out all the time. But when I’m not focused on it, it’s like being in a crowded room. You can hear all the chatter, but unless you stop to totally listen, only bits and pieces of it sticks.”

  Blake considers for a moment, then nods.

  “So, you’re saying most of the time, if you really wanted, you can’t shut it down.”

  “Are you asking me to try not to pick stuff up about you? We’re alone and I can’t read you. What more do you want? What do you have to hide, Blake?” I ask, letting frustration get the better of me.

  “Nothing—it’s not like that. But I don’t know—I don’t like the idea of all my stuff just out there. You know? Would you like it if someone could tap into all that you are or have ever been without your permission?”

  I hold his gaze for a moment, trying simultaneously to choose an answer—and figure him out. Is it the military in him that makes him so secretive? Or is there something more? Maybe he’s just a knowledge hoarder. Who the hell knows? I know I sure don’t.

  “I’ve had a long time to think about that,” I say, biting my lip before I say something I’ll regret.

  Blake chuckles, “I can imagine the twenty-some odd years has been rough.”

  “Oh, you have no idea,” I say, casting my gaze to his feet. “Honestly, at this point, I don’t think I’d mind if someone could tap into my shit. But that’s just me. It would be a helluva lot easier than trying to explain my life at this point.”

  If I could pass on this curse of mine or share it with someone else so they can see all I’ve seen—I’d do it in a heartbeat.

  I actually envy Demetri a little—even though I know I shouldn’t. He’d tell me I was a damned fool.

  Kicking off my blanket, I stand up. I’ve had enough of this cat and mouse game. The only way for Blake to understand would be to walk in my shoes—and that’s never gonna happen. Even if I tried to explain or walk him through what my life has been like—he’d have me committed. If he sees it in action, that’ll be another thing. But who knows if that will ever come if he’s constantly blocking my signal.

  Stomping over to him, I thrust out my right hand.

  “Clothes, please.”

  Blake’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he hangs onto them for a beat longer than he should have. His eyes follow the length of my body before I snatch the clothes out of his grasp.

  “I uh—” he says, clearing his throat.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, tugging on my jeans and zipping them up.

  He stands like a statue; not moving from where I left him. He also doesn’t turn around—or shield his eyes.

  I pop an eyebrow.

  “So, Greece, huh?” I say, lowering my eyebrows. “It’s been a long time since I was…”

  I stop myself from saying too much. Instead, I scrunch up my shirt and throw it over my head.

  “You’ve been to Greece?” Blake says, surprise lingering in his voice.

  “Yeah,” I say, trying to sound casual.

  Blake takes a step back, his expression bordering on awe.

  “Huh, you don’t strike me as a worldly type.”

  I snicker.

  “Wow. That hurts, man,” I say clutching at my chest the way Ren would.

  “C’mon. You know what I mean.”

  “No, I actually don’t. What do you mean?” I say, placing a hand on my hip.

  Blake takes another step back, running his hand along the back of his neck.

  “Well, you know. You’re so young, for starters,” he says, flipping his hand out in front of him.

  “Nice save,” I say, nodding as I stick out my tongue.

  He shrugs sheepishly.

  “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but despite my aversion to flying, I’ve actually traveled a helluva lot. Thank you very much.”

  His lips tug down as surprise flits through his face.

  “So, has Aiden sent ove
r any more details? Do we know where in Greece we’re headed? I know the place pretty well. I might be able to get a clear read on things if I have some more specifics. It could narrow down our search. Well, assuming you don’t get in the way.”

  “See, this is why I have a hard time fully believing in the whole psychic thing. There’s always the convenient out,” he shakes his head, “Anyway—yeah, the traffic cams and facial recognition caught them en route to Mount Parnassus—out by Delphi, I guess. Do you know where that is? We’re not sure if they’re using the ancient sites out there as a cover for a meet up and exchange, or if there’s something else out there drawing them. Aiden seems to think there are a number of caves out that way they could be using to smuggle the girls.”

  I nod, “There are.”

  I cast my gaze to the floor, shaking away the bizarre sense of déjà vu. The hairs on the back of my neck and arms tingle.

  Being lost in one of those very caves is the first memory I have of my life as I now know it. You don’t know darkness until you’re lost inside a cavern with no source of light and no way of knowing how to get out. It’s utterly petrifying.

  To be brought back there now—for this—I dunno, it means something. The universe is rarely so lazy.

  A shiver runs up my spine and the memory of me stumbling out of the Korykion Cave, as it’s known now, penetrates my mind. It’s been centuries since I was last in Greece—centuries since I even considered my origin story.

  Suddenly, despite the proximity to Blake, visions of green lights flash in my mind and the memory of the cavern shifts from me then, to present day. I watch as four girls are herded into the innards of the cavern system, led by a single flashlight held by a man much older than they are.

  Fear permeates the atmosphere—they know they’re on a death march, of sorts, with no way out.

  “Shit,” I mutter, shaking away the remnants of the vision.

  “Whoa—your eyes. Uh—they just went completely white. What the hell—were you just—?” Blake stutters.

  I wave away his question—there’s no time.

  “I know where they’re taking the girls. We need to leave. Now,” I say, slipping my feet into my shoes and grabbing my carry-on.

  “Okay, look I need a minute to process—” Blake says raising his hands and shaking his head. “I mean, was that a thing you do? Do you roll your eyes for that effect or—?”