The Oracle Series: Volumes 1-3

by Cynthia D. Witherspoon

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  Chapter One

  I ran as if my life depended on it. Somehow, even in this twisted nightmare of mine, I knew that it did.

  Branches snapped back against my skin as I pushed through them. Leaves were crushed beneath my boots. The silence was the most unnerving part. I could feel. I could see. But there was no sound whatsoever.

  Gone were the usual whispers which haunted my dreams. Gone were the voices of those long dead who clamored for my attention.

  I was more alone than ever. Abandoned and discarded by the gods and dead alike.

  I pressed against a tree in an attempt to hide long enough to catch my breath. My lungs were on fire. My legs ached from my run. Yet the moment I stopped, all hell broke loose. The silence was shattered as my hearing returned.

  Dogs howled as they closed the narrow gap I had managed to make. Men shouted words I couldn’t understand as they gave chase. Hooves pounded against the forest floor and I knew they were coming for me.

  This was it. The end.

  And it was all for nothing.

  I was convinced my heart was going to burst out of my chest as I resumed my flight. But to stop now would be my downfall. To slow down would be my demise.

  Even as I ran, I understood my enemies’ fear. I was an unnatural. A monster made by a vengeful god. I had done something horrible. Unspeakable. I knew this. I could feel my victim’s blood stiffening my clothes as each minute passed.

  I just couldn’t remember what I had done. Had I struck out against Cyrus? Elliot? Joey?

  Impossible. I wouldn’t hurt them. Hell, I wouldn’t hurt anyone without justification to do so.

  Would I?

  Flashes of memory flickered behind my eyes in a blur that matched the trees I was passing. Cyrus’ golden sword slashing downward. Blue eyes widening with surprise. The sword thrusting into a chest before the life in those eyes diminished.

  I stumbled as a loud explosion knocked me forward. I slammed against the ground with a plea for mercy as dogs circled around me. The first rider slid his horse to a stop just short of where I had landed.

  “You will murder no one else in this land, Skinwalker.”

  Skinwalker? I felt relief despite the fear gripping my heart. They were after someone else. Of course I wasn’t a murderer. I could be freed from this if the man would listen to me.

  “No, please.” I managed as the man pressed the muzzle of his gun against my temple. “You’ve got to believe me. You’re wrong. I am not a Skinwalker. I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Either way, I will see you dead for what you have done.”

  The resounding shot was deafening until the silence returned and with it, an eternal darkness my soul was all too familiar with.

  ***

  I woke up screaming. I grabbed for anything steady enough to make the shaking of my body stop. Before I could collapse into the tears threatening to overwhelm me, Cyrus pulled me into his embrace.

  “Hush, Little One. It was only a dream. You are safe.”

  I buried my face into his chest as I willed myself to calm down. He was right. There was no gunman here. No one was chasing me. I was secure in my condo on the outskirts of Los Angeles in the arms of a man who would go to Hades before any harm came to me.

  I knew this. I relished in the sweet security Cyrus provided. But now, it did nothing to stop the pounding of my heart or my head. I was still in the grip of my nightmare and it did not want to let me go.

  I had to get a hold of myself. I breathed in Cyrus’ scent of old liquor and counted to five. It didn’t help. All I could see was the man on horseback with his gun.

  “Here.” Cyrus pulled away just enough to press a glass between us. “Drink this. It should do wonders to calm your nerves, Eva.”

  “One, I am not awake enough for whiskey. And two,” I pushed the cup away. “I’m fine. Just a little rattled.”

  “Rattled, is it?” Cyrus put the glass down on my bedside table. “You’ve woken up screaming for the past three nights. Each time I end up having to change shirts because your tears have soaked them through. That is not what I call fine.”

  I shuddered as he reached out to brush my hair away from my face. After a moment, Cyrus broke the silence between us.

  “The Erinyes?”

  “No. Worse.”

  I thanked Apollo that the nightmares of little girls with demon eyes had not made an appearance tonight. I could still hear them giggling over the fight I had been forced into over Elliot’s soul. I shook my head to get rid of the memory as I switched on the lamp beside my bed with a glance over to my alarm clock. It was just after six in the morning.

  “Look, you know I’m no good at talking about things I don’t want to. Don’t push me, Cyrus.”

  “Will coffee help?” Cyrus gave me a crooked smile as he offered me his hand. “I bought a new bag of French Vanilla Roast yesterday for you.”

  “Coffee always helps.”

  I took his hand and let him lead me into the kitchen. Once Cyrus had deposited me at the table, he busied himself with my coffeemaker while I tried to forget the images returning in the back of my mind.

  Running through a forest. Chased down by men on horseback. The sound of the final gunshot.

  My nightmare was always the same. There had been no fluctuations to it over the past three nights. No break in the action. Cyrus had tried to calm me before by saying the bad dreams were nothing more than a workplace hazard. Images born out of the horrible stories of death I had to tell on my television show. But I knew better. What I was seeing wasn’t just the product of haunted houses. They were either memories or premonitions.

  And I didn’t believe in premonitions.

  “One mug with enough sugar to put you in a coma,” Cyrus sat my favorite yellow coffee mug in front of me. “And just enough coffee to give it taste.”

  “Bless you, Cyrus.” I cradled it in my hands. The warmth was soothing. The smell alone was enough to chase away the rest of my lingering fears. “You are the best keeper ever.”

  “I know.” He grinned. “I’m also your only keeper, so you better take advantage of it.”

  Cyrus switched from playful to serious in two seconds flat. He tapped his fingers against the tabletop as he spoke. “Come on, Little One. Talk to me. Perhaps we can find a way to put a stop to this dream of yours.”

  “It’s not just any dream.” I shrugged as I swallowed my drink. “Besides, can you even stop such a thing? I’m sorry, Stick, but I don’t think you can protect me from this one.”

  Cyrus awarded me with another crooked smile at the use of my nickname for him. But what I had said was true. As my keeper, Cyrus was bound to protect me from any spirit who wished to do me harm that I came in contact with as the Sibyl. That was his duty to Apollo just as mine was in using spirit communication to bring him followers. But dreams were different than ghosts.

  No. This was a battle I would have to fight on my own.

  “During my time, it was believed that there were two types of dreams.” Cyrus leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “The insomnium, which could be interpreted, and the somnium which foretold the future. Do you believe this is a dream of prophecy?”

  “No.” I snapped before I could stop myself. I took a breath, muttered an apology, and started over. “At least, I hope to the gods it’s not.�
��

  “Why?”

  “Because it is horrible.” I muttered again. I stared into the remains of my coffee as if it had the answers. “I die, Cyrus. Shot in the head.”

  My keeper didn’t argue with me. He didn’t need to remind me that I had no need to fear death. As the Sibyl, I was an immortal until I chose to relinquish my role. But since I’d broken the ancient mirror used to pass the powers of my position from one girl to another, I knew there was no way I could ever be replaced.

  No, instead of arguing, Cyrus did the most annoying thing. He went silent. It was up to me to fill in the gaps as he waited for an explanation. I didn’t know why I couldn’t talk about what I’d seen. And I couldn’t explain my reaction to it. After all, it was just a stupid dream. So I gave in to his silent treatment and started talking.

  I told Cyrus everything; from the forest to the murder to the gunshot which never failed to wake me up. When I was finished, I glanced over to see that his expression had gone dark.

  “Well, oh wise one?” I took the final gulp of my now cold coffee. “What do you think? Is this some vengeful spirit looking to find the men who killed him? Is it indeed a prophecy and I am killed somehow? Or have I finally gone completely insane thanks to this whole talking-to-the-dead business?”

  “Alright, Eva.” Cyrus held up his hand to shush me. “I get your point. Yet despite your sarcasm, you may just be correct.”

  “That I’m insane?”

  “No, silly girl.” Cyrus clasped his hand over mine. “Remember, if you will, that even in your sleep the spirits can still contact you. It is when you are the most vulnerable. I do not believe that this is a nightmare at all. I think it is a memory.”

  “So do I. But who does it belong to? And why do I tell the shooter that he has the wrong person? That I’m the Sibyl?”

  “I do not know.” Cyrus shook his head. “I think we are asking the wrong questions though. I am curious as to what this monster is. What was it called again?”

  “A skinwalker.”

  “I will see what I can find out while you are in your meeting this morning. What time do you have to be there?”

  “Eight-thirty.” I stood and rinsed out my coffee mug. “Since we are finished with the contract negotiations for season two, Connor wants all the paperwork signed by the time Joseph gets into the office.”

  I was drying off the mug when Cyrus came up behind me. He took the dishrag away from me and put his hands on my shoulders. My keeper turned me to face him before he wrapped his arms around me. I closed my eyes as my heart flipped at his touch. Say what you will about Cyrus, but he was good to me. And he had the most amazing ability to raise my blood pressure. I felt myself blushing as he brushed a single kiss of my ear before he whispered.

  “I will keep you safe, Little One. Monsters or no, you will have nothing to fear in this life.”

  Chapter Two

  My favorite spot in the massive high rise which housed Theia Productions was the coffee shop on the main floor. When I had to get away from the craziness of the show or when Elliot got too excited about a new location, I found myself hiding in the darkest booth I could get. In fact, I headed there first thing every morning I had to go to the office. Today was no exception.

  “Morning, Gladys.” I waved to the woman behind the counter. “What’s a shakin’, Bacon?”

  “You know the deal, Bill.” The old barista grinned as we did our customary fist bump over the display case. Yeah, we greeted each other with cheesy lines. And yeah, we got strange looks every time there were other people in the coffee shop. But it was nice to have a friend outside of the office. Somebody who didn’t care if I talked to the ghosts or not. She went about making my latte as she hummed Amazing Grace. When she was finished, she turned back to me.

  “You here early. You catchin’ a plane this morning?”

  “No. Signing contracts.” I tugged my purse free from my shoulder to get my wallet. “Connor's a little eager to clamp the irons back down in case we decided to take the show elsewhere.”

  “You wouldn't. Not with Elliot's daddy being in charge. Here, this should get you up and movin'.” Gladys handed me my coffee as I paid her. “Good luck, Eva. I’m glad you’re staying with us.”

  I raised my drink to her as I spun around on my heel. Too bad I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. I ended up smacking right into the man in line behind me. My coffee went everywhere.

  “Oh my god.” I gasped as I put the cup down on a neighboring table. “Are you alright?”

  The man reached out his hand and a girl I hadn’t noticed before popped up beside him with a handful of thin paper napkins. He began dabbing himself off while muttering under his breath so low, I barely caught the last part of his tirade.

  “And they say I’m the blind one.”

  “Hey.” I frowned as I offered him more napkins that were ignored. “I am really sorry. Trust me. I’d much rather be drinking my latte than having you wear it.”

  “No harm to my person, love, just my pride.” The man awarded me with a snarky smile. He was wearing sunglasses inside, which made it hard to see if he was being sincere or not. His sarcastic tone, however, told me much more than his eyes ever could. “Not to mention my shirt.”

  I started to respond in kind. I am not known for being able to keep my tongue in these situations. I never got the chance to say what I wanted to. The stranger turned to the girl he was with as if I wasn’t even there.

  “Lilabet, darling girl, will you get me the usual? Make it a double. This day has started off badly.”

  I watched the girl approach the counter as Gladys slid another coffee in my direction with a wink. I mouthed my thanks, grabbed the cup, and tried one more time to play nice.

  “Look, I am really sorry. Can I at least pay for your coffee? I feel horrible.”

  “Not as horrible as I do in this shirt.” The stranger shrugged. “Yet what is done is done. You cannot rectify this mistake.”

  “Come with me, Little One.”

  Cyrus appeared next to me and linked my arm with his. Or perhaps, he had been there the whole time. I was just too preoccupied to notice. As he led me out into the main lobby of the building, I raised an eyebrow when I saw that his mouth was set in a hard line. I couldn’t ask him about it though. Elliot Lancaster, my former boyfriend and current co-host, came bounding off the elevator to greet me with an uneasy smile.

  “Not you too.” I groaned as Elliot fell in step beside me. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Just nervous.” Elliot glared at Cyrus. “She can walk on her own, you know.”

  Cyrus ignored Elliot as we approached the elevator. I won’t go into all the gritty details, but those two have never gotten along. I was sure they never would.

  “Stop.” I narrowed my eyes at Elliot who stuffed his own hands in his pockets. “I will not put up with the two of you fighting. Especially when I am in the middle.”

  “Fine.”

  Elliot’s angry expression now matched Cyrus’. So I did the only thing I could do.

  I ignored both of them as we went up to the floor our office was on. See, the problem wasn’t that they just disliked each other. I get that. Personalities clash all the time.

  This was different. They were fighting a stupid feud over me like two lions on some sort of nature show. Elliot was convinced Cyrus was the reason we didn’t get back together after our very public, very horrible break up. And Cyrus was convinced Elliot would only leave me brokenhearted again. So when the three of us got together, it was awful.

  The elevator doors couldn't open fast enough. At long last, we reached our floor and I bounded out. Cyrus snagged my hand to get me to stop. When I turned towards him, I caught the smirk he threw in Elliot's direction before he turned his attentions back to me.

  "This is where I leave you, Little One. I'll return before noon."

  I nodded as he faded into the shadows cast by a large fake plant. Elliot stepped up beside me with his hands st
uffed in his pockets. He blew a low whistle between his teeth before he spoke.

  "So you two going to make it official anytime soon?"

  He sounded as crestfallen as he looked, but I wasn't taking the bait. Not today. I had enough on my plate to worry about without adding their nonsense to it.

  "Elliot." I warned as I started walking down the hall. "I am in no mood for your unnecessary drama today."

  "Evie." Elliot grabbed my arm as we reached the conference room. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? It's hard for me to see you with him."

  "First off, I'm not with him." I stressed my words while refraining from jabbing my finger into his chest. "So you are just being ridiculous. But right now? We're late. We don't have time for this."

  "There's something else I wanted to tell you." Elliot sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Eva, Grave Messages..."

  "There you two are!" Connor Garrison, our executive producer, slung the door the conference room open. "Hurry up, will you? The lawyers are already here."

  "Coming."

  I threw a look over my shoulder at Elliot as I followed Connor inside. It was time to sign my life away for another year. Whatever he had to say could wait until after our meeting was over.

  "Hey guys." I managed as I approached the conference table. It was surrounded by a series of men and women in high-priced suits murmuring amongst themselves. The moment I spoke, they all fell silent to stare at me.

  "Ok." I took a deep breath. "This is awkward."

  "Eva, have a seat." Connor came up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder. "We have several others joining us, but they are going to be late this morning."

  He led me over to an empty chair with a folder in front of it. I felt a strange anxiety in the pit of my stomach as I sat down. I shook the feeling aside. After all, this wasn't my first time. I'd signed contracts just like this not a year before with Elliot by my side. I had experience now. I had the highest rated show produced by Theia Productions. There was absolutely nothing to be worried about.