That had his attention.
Did she just say…?
He swallowed. He was aroused and turned on, but he prayed that it wasn’t showing. It was hard not to be. Brianna Collins was a gorgeous woman, and he’d always thought American accents were sexy.
Exotic.
Fancy.
“Your gift,” she said, explaining. “Not that other turned on,” she offered, blushing a little.
His heart skipped.
She was so…perfect.
He relaxed.
“The woman in my office…?”
Brianna laughed, and his whole body reacted to the sound of it.
“You mean Oracle? She has a name.”
He supposed she did. Laird should probably use it since they were somehow tied together in this mess.
“Yes, Oracle. She said that she’d opened my third eye. What the hell does that mean?” he asked.
Now she got it.
That was why she couldn’t feel him earlier. Had his eye been open, their auras would have combined.
It made sense.
“That’s your psychic center. They say that everyone has that gift, but the eye is closed. Only a few people know how to open it, or they’re born with it open.”
“She touched me.”
“What did you feel?” Brianna asked.
He couldn’t lie to her.
“EVERYTHING.”
Laird wanted to blurt every truth he’d ever discovered to her, but he was afraid he’d tell her about what he saw. He couldn’t tell her about her death.
That might scare her more.
“Have you been having flashes?” Brianna asked.
He nodded.
“Yeah, a few the last couple weeks, but nothing like before. They hit me hard.”
“Your eye opened, and everything being suppressed came through. It’s nothing to be afraid of,” she offered. “It will take some time to adjust. The worst is at night. When you want to sleep, you hear the static.”
That didn’t sound appealing at all.
He wasn’t good with sleep to begin with. He’d seen too much, and this mess wasn’t helping.
“I don’t know how I feel about any of this.”
She understood that. She was scared shitless, too, but with help, maybe that would go away. Brianna could feel the good in him, and in Oracle.
She trusted her.
For the last two weeks, the woman kept her company in the dark. She soothed the screams, she calmed the pain, and she helped her focus.
Now this man did the same thing.
It was…scary, but an adventure, and Brianna loved one of those.
“Have faith, Laird.”
That was the foundation of his life. That she was offering him that advice…Laird didn’t know what to think.
“You’re seeing a killer, and I’m seeing the future. That’s definitely something to be afraid of,” he corrected. “Maybe I’m going mad.”
She didn’t speak.
“No offense.”
“None taken,” Brianna offered. “I totally get it. This was dropped on you two hours ago. I’ve had two weeks with Oracle in my head. She’s not what I thought she’d look like,” she admitted.
“What did you think she’d look like?”
Brianna smiled, and his heart skipped in her head. “I tend to romanticize just about everything. You know, the brave knight, the fair lady, and the dragon in the castle.”
“Please tell me there are no dragons.”
She snorted at his joke. “There are no dragons.”
He smiled.
This was getting easier.
Laird was finding a level footing with the woman beside him. Despite all of this, he was calm. That was something different. Normally, his mind went a mile a minute. Before today, he was beginning to believe he had some issues with attention deficit disorder.
Now, he could see why.
Damn that third eye.
“I really thought she’d be more Amazonian. From the power she has, I figured…”
“Wait.”
Brianna did just that.
“What do you mean power?”
She tried to explain it. “In the static, you can hear them all calling for her. She’s incredibly strong. They all want her help. She chose us.”
“For?”
“To catch this killer, I guess. She has her reasons, Detective. If you want to know them, you’ll have to ask her. Oracle is Oracle.”
He was so confused.
There was one thing he wasn’t confused about.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“It’s okay. You looked so angry when you saw me. I shouldn’t have run, but I don’t like confrontation. I don’t like to surround myself with that kind of bad energy. Peace begets peace. That’s why I love being a teacher. I get to be around the innocent. Kids are good. They are born pure, and they’re molded.”
Yeah, he got that.
He was around death and bad things.
He could ONLY imagine what that said about his life and what surrounded him.
Brianna heard his thoughts.
“It means you fight for justice and that’s a very noble thing.”
He stared over at her.
“What? You can read my mind? Now?”
“We’re connected,” she said, pointing down at his leg. His was leaning against hers.
He moved it.
“Now I have to try to read you. When we touch, it’s just there.”
“This is all so damn weird.”
She didn’t disagree. “I’m sorry, Mr. Maguire. I wish I could make it easier for you. I wish I could snap my fingers and help you see the whole picture, but you have to make this journey on your own.”
He didn’t want to be alone anymore.
“What are you going to do?” he asked, finally able to bring it up.
“I’m going to find Oracle and help her. If I can stop one person from what I’ve seen, then it’s worth it. As a human being, it’s my duty. Don’t you think?”
He didn’t know what to think.
Laird wanted to help, run, hide, scream, and most importantly…pray.
For her.
For him.
For the people dying.
She touched his arm. “I wish you peace. I wish things had been different. I would have enjoyed that date with you,” she admitted.
Her words rattled him.
She was walking away.
Everything in Laird told him to stop fighting and hold onto what he’d found. He felt as if he was on the pinnacle of something, and he was either going to discover or fail.
“Wait!” he said, grabbing her wrist. The energy sizzled between them.
“What?” she asked, staring down at his long, strong fingers touching her. It made it difficult to focus with his hand on her bare skin.
She wanted to touch him back.
Brianna fought the compulsion.
“What if you help her, and it gets you killed? This killer…I have the pictures here. I know what he’s capable of doing.”
Brianna thought about it.
“If I don’t help, Detective Maguire, how do I sleep at night knowing I might have made a difference? I teach my kids to do the right thing, no matter the outcome. I believe that. If I’m not going to live those lessons, trust in the higher power, and myself, what’s the point of living? Is a long empty life better than a short fulfilled one?”
He saw her death again and again. He listened to her words, and Laird wanted to protect her.
“Miss Collins,” he began.
What was he going to say? He could see her dying, and it matched what he had in the crime scene photos in his office.
And it sucked.
“Be safe, Mr. Maguire,” she offered, pulling her arm free. “Molly, you take care of him. See you, sweetheart,” she said, pulling a peanut butter cookie from her purse. “May I?” she asked.
He watched her.
It s
taggered him.
“Those are her favorite cookies.”
“I know. I saw it in your head the second I walked into your office. You keep the box in a locked cupboard. Molly can pick a lock,” she said, feeding the dog the cookie.
She was absolutely right.
Mostly, she could yank a door off a cabinet to get at food, and he’d had to take desperate measures into hand to preserve his home. That she knew that one thing…
It gave him hope.
“Miss Collins,” he called, stopping her in her tracks.
“Yes?”
“Wait up. I’ll go with you. I think we have to do this together, or it’s not going to work.”
She was surprised.
“You want to help?”
Yeah, he wanted to help her. That was the ONLY reason he was going to do this. He couldn’t let her end up a photo on his desk. She was still wearing his flower, and that spoke to him on some masculine level.
Here was to fair maidens, knights, and dragons.
“I’m in. How do we find her? Where is she?” he asked, falling into step beside her.
That surprised her.
“Are you sure? You don’t seem to buy into this. Why do you want to do it?” she asked.
“Because you’re right. How will I sleep at night if I don’t help? This is my job. I need to do this.”
She began walking in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?”
“To Oracle.”
“You know the way?” he asked.
“Yes, and more importantly, so do you.”
* * * O R A C L E * * *
Graymoor
When Avalon, Nate, and Luke got back, the place was stirred up. Maura and Jagger had just returned, Bishop was pacing in a robe, and even Roxy looked freaked out.
The house, well, that was a different story.
It vibrated in a weird energy—almost like a tuning fork that had been struck.
“What happened?” Avalon asked, as Nate led her into the room.
“We have a HUGE problem,” Jagger stated. He hoped they were ready for more weird and bizarre because here it came.
“What?” she asked.
Bishop told them. “During, uh…sex, Lucian stopped being Lucian.”
They all stared at her.
The three who returned looked just as befuddled as when she told Maura and Jagger. She wasn’t expecting anything less than that look.
“How?” Avalon asked, trying to get all the details. If she was to help, she needed more.
Bishop flushed.
This was mortifying. She couldn’t believe she was going to talk about her husband and sex with EVERYONE.
“You can tell us,” Nate said. “We’re your family, Bishop. There’s nothing you can tell us that will shock us.”
Oh, she wasn’t so sure about that, but here went nothing.
“He got rough, he called me Maribel, and now he won’t wake up. I don’t know what to do! I’m trying really hard not to freak out, but this is making me want to do really irrational things like run around and scream like a girl.”
No one could blame her.
When she put it that way, it didn’t sound good.
At all.
“Where is he?” Avalon asked.
“He’s in our bed. I don’t know what to do, Avalon. You have to help him!” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
That was her plan.
“One minute he was fine, and the next…he was calling me that weird name.”
Avalon glanced over at Luke’s aura. “Do you have your tablet?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Can you search that name and this house, and find me something?” She suspected it had something to do with the dead woman she’d seen in the haze outside the place.
Nate figured it out first.
“Wait! You think it’s that dead witch you saw outside, don’t you?” he asked his fiancée.
This wasn’t really her thing, so she wasn’t one hundred percent sure. Oracle dealt with psychic and latent abilities. While she’d talk to spirits, like she’d used to do at Fire Bay, she never had one that was this strong following her around.
This one was a tad bit stalker-ish.
Still, it was the same thing, right?
The continuum was the same.
The players were different.
“I don’t know that for sure,” she admitted. “I’m at a disadvantage here, but if I listen long enough, I’ll get my answer. All I do know is we have a killer playing witch.”
Maura had to know. “Are you sure about that?” Maura asked. “You can’t communicate with this killer, so how do you know for sure?”
Again, her always skeptical friend was challenging her. Avalon wasn’t shocked. She expected it. When she brought them to Ireland, and plucked the two from all the static, she knew this case would be harder, and challenge them.
Sometimes, complacent people needed to be shaken up, and her team had to stay on their toes for what would come.
“While I may not know everything, I can learn a lot by listening,” she offered. “The voices know what’s going on, who needs help, and what we can do.”
Maura was having a tough time buying that. It didn’t seem tangible.
That she got.
This…no.
Avalon continued, “I wish I could give you a definitive answer, but how do you know that split second before something bad is about to go down?” she asked Maura.
“My gut.”
“Well, that’s pretty much how I know. They are my ‘gut’ so to speak.”
Maura sighed.
That was all she was going to get. She would have to live with that. Avalon couldn’t explain it any more.
“Besides,” she offered, “we have a house that’s haunted, where a woman was burned as a witch. It seems a little too…”
“Coincidental?” Maura asked.
“Yes.”
Luke began researching as Avalon had to handle the other issue. She needed to keep them on track. There were lives at stake, and bigger things that needed to happen in the future.
“Can you take me to Lucian so I can see what needs to be done?” she asked, holding her hand out to Bishop. “They will search. You and I will talk.”
That worked for her.
Bishop led her upstairs.
Her heart was breaking. This was hard for her. She was putting everything she had on this woman—and she couldn’t help but think that Lucian’s life depended on it.
“Don’t be scared. This is my thing,” Avalon offered.
Bishop couldn’t help it.
“Ireland, it’s scary. Is that part of this?” she asked as they walked toward the room. “Is what’s happening to him part of this mess?”
Again, she wasn’t sure. Avalon wasn’t dealing with psychic. This was out of her reach—for now.
“Ireland is a wild card,” Avalon admitted. “I’ve never felt anything like it here. The whole place is alive with so much energy, spirits, and other things. The whole country might be haunted.”
“Well, that can’t be good,” Bishop offered.
“It might not be bad,” Avalon returned. “Think about it. This is a country of wisdom, Celtic traditions, and magick. I can’t pretend to know everything. I deal in psychic ability. I’m out of my element here, but I’m willing to learn.”
Bishop really didn’t want to hear that. This was Oracle. They were putting their faith in her skill. If she wasn’t sure of herself, they were screwed.
Oracle was focused.
She heard Bishop’s thoughts.
“Yes, I am her, but I’m also human. This is trial and error for me, too, Bishop.”
She got that, but this was her husband.
“He’s your partner in this. Avalon, you have to do something,” she begged. “This can’t be good. He’s a healthy man, and now he’s…”
She patted her arm. The closer she got to him, the more
Avalon could feel him. He wasn’t dying.
He was just…trapped.
“He’s not hurt,” she said. “I can find him in the static. He’s okay. He’s reaching back for me. I think he’s confused as to what happened.”
Well, that was a relief.
“Where is he?”
She tapped her head.
“Well, tell him his wife needs him to come back. Hell! We all need him.”
Bishop knew that the relationship between Lucian and Avalon was special. At times, it made her jealous, but never once did she doubt either of them. They both had a powerful gift, and they mattered.
It was hard at times, but easy at others. She didn’t have a gift like Avalon or Lucian, so how could she begrudge them their relationship when both of them were suffering as they helped people?
She couldn’t.
Bishop had become a cop to help people.
They helped.
As they entered the room, Lucian was lying prone on their bed. Bishop let go of Avalon’s arm and the woman felt her way to him. His aura gave him away.
It was blue and calm.
Avalon knew he was going to be fine.
“Is he…?”
She didn’t speak.
Instead, she found his hand.
Taking it in hers, she climbed up beside him and took her spot alongside his hip. “He’ll be okay. I just need some time to lead him back. It’s not an easy journey, but I’ll figure it out.”
“What happened?”
She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t feel right.
“If you want to help him, get dressed and go help Luke. The detective and Miss Collins are on their way here. We need to be ready. The killer will be moving again at some point, and they are the only way we’ll know about it.”
Bishop did what she said. While Avalon held his hand, she got dressed.
She wanted to be the one helping her husband.
Wasn’t that her duty? She felt like she was letting him down on some level.
It sucked.
“I can hear you,” Avalon said.
“How?” she asked.
“He’s focused on you, not me. He wishes you shared his gift, too, but he wants you to know you share something more important.”
Her heart skipped.
“What?”
“A soul, a heart, and love.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I needed that, Avi. Thank you. Sometimes, his gift can be overwhelming.”
Oracle Haunting (The Phoenix Files Book 4) Page 12