The Oracle Series: Volumes 1-3

by Cynthia D. Witherspoon

  “Always.” He grinned as he lifted the black device onto his shoulder. I swear, sometimes I wondered if he slept with that thing. “You going back in?”

  I snorted. “Of course I am. My new Louis Vuitton is in there.”

  “Right.” Joey positioned himself behind me. “Go.”

  “So we’ve just entered the grand hotel here at Kentauros Equestrian Estates,” I turned just enough so that Joey could catch a glimpse of my face. “And I’ve literally been thrown out of my hotel room by a spirit who does not want to talk to me.”

  I smiled as I turned the door knob. “Let’s go find out why, shall we?”

  I shoved open the door, expecting to hear the whispering which had greeted me before. But there was nothing. No whispers. No strange shove. The room had gone absolutely silent. I frowned as I stepped forward with my hands on my hips.

  “Hello?” I called out to the empty room. “I’m back. With the camera as promised.”

  Nothing.

  I took a step forward. Then another as the other two followed me inside. As I rounded the corner of the bed, I saw the vanity mirror and instead of seeing spirits?

  I saw my own reflection without the flickering faces or clamoring stories as the spirits of the dead called out to me. I leaned forward until my nose was almost touching the glass as I studied my own face. My eyes were still gold. I was still rumpled from the flight and drive. But that was it.

  “Joey.” I spoke slowly as I turned away from the glass. “I’m not making it up. There was something here just a minute ago.”

  “Where could it have run off to? I mean…”

  He was interrupted by Erin’s scream as I felt two hands clasping themselves around my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t respond while Joey lifted the hilt of Cyrus’ sword from its spot on top of my bags.

  “Eva!” Joey threw his camera down onto the bed as he rushed over to me. I managed to get the sword in hand as the spirit began pulling me back towards the mirror. I ignored the black spots dancing in front of my eyes. I ignored the fire in my chest and the pain in my throat. I waited until my back was against the glass before I reacted.

  I slammed the heavy gold hilt into the glass, praying to Apollo that my actions wouldn’t release the spirit. He must have heard me. I heard a scream of anguish behind me as the hands released me. The whispers returned with a vengeance.

  “Joey.” I managed as I reached for him. “Get me out of here.”

  He was silent as he wrapped his arm around my waist. Joey helped me out into the hallway as the massive choking fit I had managed to control took over. I doubled over until it stopped. When I did, I realized he had knelt down next to me.

  “You ok, McRayne?” Joey glanced up at Erin, who was visibly shaken. “Can you get her some water?”

  The girl took off like a shot as I sat down on the thick carpet to rest my head against the wall. I swallowed a few times before I could speak again.

  “I told you I didn’t like it here.”

  “Hardy har har.” Joey didn’t look as amused as I thought he would. “Listen, we need to call Elliot. Tell him what happened and get Cyrus back here stat.”

  “No.” I reached up to rub my sore throat. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t trust him.”

  “Who? Elliot?” Joey shook his head. “Listen, I heard about all the drama between you two, but he wouldn’t put you in a position where you could get hurt.”

  “Yes, he would. He does it all the time. That’s what Grave Messages is all about, remember?” I fought back another round of coughing as I heard the elevator ding. “Pretty blonde girls who go into scary places make for great television.”

  “True. But pretty blonde dead girls make the news. And that’s not good for Theia. Much less Grave Messages.”

  Erin bounded off the elevator with a bottled water in her hand. “Here. Are you alright?”

  “What the hell are you hiding?” I took the water without a single ounce of gratitude. “That’s not a normal spirit.”

  “No, it’s not.” The girl stood up to wrap her arms around herself. “I didn’t think he would actually attack you though. Not yet.”

  “Not yet?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “So that thing attacks people?”

  “Yes.” She whispered while she stared at the door to my room. “We call him Alex, but none of us have any idea who or what he is. We were hoping you could help us with that.”

  “Ok.” I took Joey’s hand as he offered to help me up. Once I was standing, I took a deep but painful breath. “We are doing interviews today, right?”

  “Yeah. But we can hold off if you want.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Let’s go get your camera and get started. Erin, go round up anyone who has ever encountered this thing. We need their stories. Then, we’ll figure out how we’re going to survive the night up here.”

  “You can’t seriously be considering sleeping up here.” Joey opened the door to my room. “That’s practically suicide.”

  “Immortal, remember?” I offered him a small smile. “Come on. You grab your camera. I’m going to grab my makeup bag. We’ve got people to talk to.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I love this place. Been coming here since I was a kid.” Daniel Ortez, the current owner of Kentauros was sitting in front of me with a smirk that spoke volumes. “We are a prized hotel. Award winning stables. All this talk about spooks and hauntings was made up by the staff.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  I leaned forward, oblivious to the fact that Joey was rolling behind me. We had been interviewing guests and staff all afternoon. And this idiot was the first one to deny anything was out of the ordinary.

  “Mr. Ortez,” I took a breath to regain my composure. As it was, I wanted to throttle him as I had been by the spirit upstairs a few hours before. “You wouldn’t have called us here if nothing was wrong. When did you first get reports that things were out of the ordinary?”

  “Hell, those stories have been floating around since time began.” He waved off my question with a flick of his wrist. “You’re in the West, darlin’. We thrive off the living and the dead here.”

  “I can see that.” I pretended to glance down at the notepad in my lap. “How many shows have you hosted here in the past few years? Eight? Nine?”

  “Eight.” He grinned. “Good for tourism. People come here for the ghosts. Stay for the horses. And come back because we treat ‘em right.”

  “I’ll bet.” I muttered as I wrote on my pad. “Alright. What about the disappearances? What is your explanation for them?”

  “Lots of people get lost in the woods.” He shrugged. “Once the forestry call off the search, it’s only a matter of time before the stories start circulating.”

  “So this has nothing to do with a skinwalker?”

  The man in front of me turned pale. His eyes widened as he leaned forward in his chair to point his finger in my direction.

  “You listen to me. You will not go around spreading those kind of lies about my hotel, understand? I will sue you for everything you’ve got.”

  Now it was my turn to grin. “Myths and legends are not something you can sue over, Mr. Ortez. And your contract says I can air anything I want to.”

  He stared at me for a minute before he stood up to walk away from the seating area we’d chosen in the main dining room. I watched as he stopped to talk to Erin, and I was sure he was talking about me because he kept gesturing in my direction. Finally, he stormed out of the room altogether.

  “Good move, McRayne.” Joey nodded while he lowered his camera. “Now I know we’ll get spit in our supper tonight.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault.” I turned in my chair to face him. “Who’s next?”

  “I am.”

  A man in his mid-forties approached us from the door Ortez had stormed out of. His long black hair was peppered with gray, and his features were obviously Native American. I stood when he approac
hed us to shake our hands.

  “My name is Askuwheteau, Grand-Chief of the Chippewa-Cree tribe. Our reservation is just down the road.” He smiled as he clasped his hand over mine. “Call me Ash.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I tilted my head as he released me to take his seat. “I’m Eva and this is Joey.”

  “I know.” He brushed out his button down shirt before folding his hands over his lap. “The spirits have been clamoring for your arrival.”

  “At least someone is.” I returned the man’s smile. “Have you been interviewed before?”

  “Yes.” Ash nodded. “I will tell you if I cannot answer any of your questions.”

  “Alright. Joey?”

  “Ready when you are.” My companion lifted his massive camera up. “And…go.”

  “This is Ash, Grand-Chief of the Chippewa-Cree tribe.” I put my papers back down in my lap. “What experiences have you had here at Kentauros, sir?”

  “None. I have no interest in your ghosts, Ms. McRayne. I am after a Skinwalker.”

  I felt my jaw drop. It actually dropped like some bad actor in a play. The man winked at me as he continued.

  “How have you heard of them, Ms. McRayne? What do you know about our twisted brethren?”

  “Nothing.” I swallowed as I tried to regain my composure. “I heard the word in a dream before we came out to Montana.”

  “Ah. A warning then.” The man nodded. “Would you like for me to tell the story then? I fear one of these monsters is exactly what you are facing.”

  “Of course.” I leaned forward to listen, wishing that Cyrus was here with me. “Are they really monsters? Demons?”

  “No.” The man didn’t move as he closed his eyes. “They are very much human. Yet, they are unnatural. Their magic has twisted their souls to a point no one will ever be able to understand.”

  I didn’t respond and I didn’t need to. Ash opened his eyes and continued.

  “You are a product of Apollo, Greek god of the Sun. Yet, as you well know, our people have their own gods. Powerful forces of nature who intercede when it is necessary to protect the tribe. We worship them as your people worship their God. Or gods, if that is the case. Each tribe is different.”

  He took a bottled water from the cooler provided by the hotel and twisted it in his hands.

  “The skinwalker was first brought forth by the Navaho. It has been said that a man, confused by the power brought on by the Witchery Way, began to chant the songs backwards. As he sang, those around him tried to intercede. They tried to stop him. But he was filled with a dark power. The man’s soul was twisted by the magic ritual.”

  “What is the Witchery Way?” I interrupted. “And what does this have to do with the haunting here at Kentauros?”

  “Ah, my apologies.” The man smiled. “I should have been more precise in my story. You see, the Witchery Way is the Navaho form of witchcraft. Men and women who conduct rituals to the gods. Since the man twisted good magic by saying it backwards, he called forth the dark forces instead. Evil filled him to the point where he could no longer regain his senses. He committed an act of savagery so violent; the dark gods gave him more power than his companions had ever known. Future skinwalkers would follow in his path. Men and women who wish to gain power by losing their humanity.”

  “And you believe this being is what is haunting the Kentauros?”

  “Yes. You see, those who call upon the dark gods must offer a sacrifice in order to gain their power. They are able to shift into any animal of their choice, then back to their human form.”

  “What sort of sacrifice?” I tilted my head as I tried to piece together what he was saying. “And what would such a creature want here?”

  “Victims.” Ash sat his water aside as he rested his elbows on his knees. “As I said, the skinwalker is not a Cree belief. It is a Navaho tradition. Yet, we believe one has made its way up to Great Falls. You’ve heard of the disappearances around the hotel?”

  I nodded. “Yes. It is one of the reasons why we are here.”

  “Each had been snatched from the back of horses as they rode into the surrounding forests. Their bodies were never found, but the horses returned no worse for the wear. Some claim an animal is behind the attacks. Yet, what animal is powerful enough to pull a grown man from the back of a horse?”

  “A pack of wolves?” I shrugged. “A bear?”

  “Yes, but without damaging the horse?” Ash shook his head. “Skinwalkers need humans to sacrifice to their gods. Beating hearts ripped from the chest in order to keep their strength and abilities. There is no point in going after the animal. This is why they are not harmed.”

  “Ok.” I breathed the word as I sat the notepad aside. I wasn’t going to need it since Joey was catching all this on film. “So let me get this straight. Men and women conduct dark rituals with the intent of becoming shape shifters. But in order for them to keep that power, they must appease their angry gods by murdering innocent people.”

  He nodded. “Yes. This is why we call them monsters. They have lost their grip on humanity.”

  “And you believe a shape shifter is responsible for the disappearances around Kentauros in order to maintain their power?”

  “Yes.” He nodded again. “Ms. McRayne, there are shape shifters in every culture. The Norse had Beserkers. The Japanese had the Kitsune. Your own Greek beliefs have the story of Proteus and Tiresias.”

  I froze as he said Leyton’s true name. “Wait. What did you say?”

  “Beserkers. Kitsune..”

  “No, no.” I shook my head. “The last name. What did you say?”

  “Tiresias. The man who was changed into a woman by a dark goddess.”

  Well, if that wasn’t the best description I had ever heard for Hera. I gestured for Joey to turn off the camera before I stood.

  “Ash,” I began to pace in front of him; a habit I’d picked up from Cyrus over the past year. “How can you identify a skinwalker?”

  “It is difficult at times.” He frowned as he stood with me. “Most interact with humans as humans. It isn’t until they are alone that they show their true form.”

  “There must be some way.” I tapped my finger against the skin beneath my right eye. “I’m marked as the Sibyl by my eye color. These babies used to be green. Surely a magic so powerful would physically affect the practitioner.”

  Ash sighed. “It is believed they are disfigured in some way. A scar across the face. A disability which would mark them as an outsider in the tribe. Only when they transform do these disabilities disappear.”

  Disability. Shape shifters. Tiresias. I couldn’t help but feel there was a connection, but my day was wearing down on me. I was starving. I was in desperate need of a shower. And I wanted nothing more than to curl up by Cyrus’ side to sleep the night away.

  “How long are you staying here?” I stopped pacing to face Ash. “I’m afraid I need to call it a day.”

  “I will be here until the creature is caught.” Ash took my hand again to squeeze it. “I will also be available to answer any questions you may have.”

  “I may need more than just answers.” I released his hand. “I may need your help before this is over.”

  “Indeed. I am at your service.” The man shook Joey’s hand again. “My room is 204. Stop by at any time.”

  He was gone by the time Joey whistled. He plopped down in my chair to rub his hands over his face.

  “Are we really going to call it a day?” Joey gave me a pleading look. “Please say yes.”

  “Hey, it was your idea to hold interviews this afternoon.” I collapsed in the other chair. “I’m used to having a day to get over my jetlag before you throw me to the wolves.”

  “Poor choice of words.” Joey smirked for two seconds. Then, he got serious. “So when are you going to let me in on your little secret?”

  “What secret?” I was studying my fingers as my mind moved at a million miles a minute. “I don’t have any secrets from you, Joey.”
>
  “I saw how pale you got when he mentioned the name Tiresias.” He pointed in my direction. “Do you think whatever is in your room is the shape shifter?”

  “No.” I looked up to him in surprise. “That’s right. You didn’t get to hear Leyton’s story, did you?”

  “What does Leyton have to do with this?”

  “He’s Tiresias. The shape shifter that Ash mentioned.”

  “Wait, what?” Joey held up his hands in mock surrender. “Ok. Tell you what. Let’s see if this place has room service. If it does, then we’ll reconvene in my room.”

  “Why not mine?” I grinned. “You don’t want to play the hero again?”

  “Nope. I’m the man behind the camera. Not the chick who beats up the bad guys.” He grinned as he stood. “Come on. I’m sure Erin can help us with room service.”

  “I’m sure that’s the only thing she can help you with.”

  I dodged his hand with a laugh when he swatted in my direction. I was glad that Elliot let Joey come with me while the others stayed behind. I needed a friend right now. Especially with Cyrus on the sidelines. The truth was, Joey did save me earlier. If he hadn’t been there, I could have been possessed by the spirit. I could have been pulled through the mirror.

  As I followed him to the lobby, I whispered a prayer of thanks to Apollo. He hadn’t abandoned me. He made sure I wasn’t alone.

  ***

  It took some doing, but Joey finally convinced me to switch rooms with him. I sighed as he lugged my bags into the hallway to pile them up by the door to my new abode. I didn't miss how he was grumbling under his breath the entire time. Something about how I couldn't have had that much time to pack so much crap since Elliot demanded I leave L.A. immediately.

  "Hey." I snagged my rolling suitcase and pulled it upright. "I'm not the one who insisted on switching rooms."

  "And I'm not the one almost strangled by a damn ghost." Joey huffed as he put my makeup case down. He stood up to dust off his hands. "Do you know how many ways Cyrus could slaughter me if something happened to you?"

  "Yeah, yeah. Bring the boyfriend into it." I smirked. "Go to bed, will you? Apparently, we have a tour to get to in the morning."