Oracle of Spirits #3 (BBW Paranormal Romance)

by Flynn, Mac

  That wasn't gonna happen.

  I focused all my anger, all my disgust into that little bit of paper and threw it. The talisman sliced through the air like a dagger and plunged into the forehead of the nearest Phantom. A bright light burst from the hole and out the back of its head. The creature, its momentum carrying it forward, screamed and fell to my feet as nothing more than a small pile of cinders.

  That got their attention.

  The other Phantoms stopped their assault and hovered three feet around me. Their numbers meant I was completely surrounded, but that wasn't going to stop me. I pulled out another half dozen of the talismans and twirled around, throwing them as I spun. Each talisman hit its mark, and another half dozen Phantoms disappeared forever. The other Phantoms hesitated. They didn't like the idea of being nothing but plant food.

  I heard a clap, and looked through the Phantoms to the man in white. He finished his clapping and his big stupid grin was still on his face.

  "Bravo. I would ask for an encore, but I really am fond of my Phantoms," he commented. He snapped his fingers again. The Phantoms retreated, but not without a prize.

  The creatures pulled back, and with them they took Ian. His body emerged from the pile as a rag of cuts, slashes, and gashes. He was bruised from head to foot, and blood poured from his wounds and covered the tiles with a red wax. Two Phantoms held onto his arms and dragged him so he was suspended beside the man in white.

  I pulled out another half dozen talismans and pulled back my arm. "Let him go!" I ordered him.

  The man in white clucked his tongue and shook his head. "I wouldn't do that, my dear. You see, something bad could happen to your friend."

  One of the Phantoms floated so it stood in front of and to the left of Ian. The creature stretched out its arm in front of Ian and flexed its fingers. My eyes widened as I watched its finger stretch to a foot in length. Their dagger-like tips were aimed at Ian.

  "Now will you come peacefully with us?" the man in white asked me. His eyes flickered to the Phantom with the long claws, and it moved its hand closer to Ian. "Or must I prove how foolish your stubbornness is?"

  CHAPTER 9

  Trickles of sweat slid down the sides of my face. My tense arm cramped. I looked from Ian's face to the ashen one of the stranger. His eyes narrowed and he raised his hand.

  "What will it be, Enid? With one snap of my fingers I can take away the life of this werewolf. Do you want his death on your conscious, or would you rather take the sensible route and come with me?" he wondered.

  I eased my tense arm to my side and hung my head. My body shook as I shut my eyes.

  "Damn it. . ." I whispered.

  Tears sprang into my eyes. I couldn't let Ian die. He was-well, he was pretty special to me now. I couldn't quite pinpoint what I thought of him, but I'd miss his stupid remarks and funny grin. I'd even miss that stupid cigarette.

  A single tear slid down my cheek. It teetered over the edge of my chin before it dropped to the floor between my feet.

  The tear was like a splash in an ocean of light. The room was suddenly engulfed in a brilliance that was so bright I was forced to cover my eyes. The light spread across the floor and walls as swiftly as the fastest tsunami. It swept over my foes, and the moment it touched the Phantoms they threw up their arms and screamed their terrible screams.

  The noises didn't last long. The light evaporated them into millions of pieces of glitter. Those who held Ian also disappeared, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes face-first onto the floor.

  The man in white weathered the storm, but he, too, had his arm over his eyes. He took a step back and bent low against the brilliance that threatened to swallow him. Through the light I could see his hateful eyes. They were wide and locked on me, and I felt a shudder run down my spine as his gritted teeth slipped into a triumphant grin.

  The man lowered his arm and swept it across his chest before he bowed at the waist to me. He raised his head and a dark fog swirled up from his feet. The fog pushed away the light and engulfed him in its clutches. The light punctured the tornado of darkness, but as the fog evaporated the man was revealed to have disappeared.

  The light, too, weakened and drew back to the place of my tear. It vanished into the small puddle of water, and all was dark and quiet.

  My shaky knees couldn't support me. I collapsed onto them and placed my palms on the ground. A deep, weakening exhaustion swept over me, and my breathing came out in harsh gasps. My body felt like I'd ran a triathlon. Every muscle shook and ached.

  A groan caught my attention, and I raised my head. Ian shifted in a pool of his own blood. He tilted his head to face me, and reached out with one hand. Ian pulled himself towards me with that one hand.

  I wasn't going to let a half-dead werewolf beat me.

  I climbed to my shaky feet and stumbled over to him where I knelt by his side. I wrapped my arms around his chest and pulled his slashed body into my lap. He grunted and clenched his teeth, but a teasing light slipped into his eyes as he looked up at me.

  "You're really something, you know that?" he asked me.

  I choked out a laugh. "Yeah, I guess I am, but try not to talk. You have to save your strength."

  He sat up and winced. "I'll. . .I'll be fine," he gasped.

  I frowned at him and wrapped my arms tighter around his chest. "No, you're not fine. You have more holes than Swiss cheese and you're bleeding all over the place."

  He stretched out one arm and pulled back the long sleeves of his overcoat and shirt. His skin was slashed and gashed, but my eyes widened as I watched the wounds slowly heal themselves.

  He chuckled. "Sometimes it's not so bad being a werewolf."

  "Wow," was my brilliant reply.

  Ian's eyes flitted over the empty lobby. "Save the wow for another time. Where the hell is that coward?"

  "Who?" I asked him.

  "Cronus. That guy was supposed to back me up after I flicked my cigarette," he explained.

  "I will do so now," a voice spoke up.

  Cronus stepped from the shadows close at hand and strode over to us. He knelt in front of Ian and inspected his wounds. Ian swung a weak punch, but Cronus leaned back and Ian missed his jaw by a mile. I pulled Ian back so he sat straight again, but his body trembled and he ground his teeth together.

  "You asshole! Where the hell were you?" Ian snapped at him.

  Cronus frowned. "Talking will only aggravate your condition."

  "To hell with my condition!" Ian growled.

  "That may be your destination if you don't let me treat them. Your werewolf abilities are doing little to stem the bleeding of the deeper wounds," Cronus insisted.

  "Stop being so stubborn and let him help you," I scolded Ian. My eyes flickered up to Cronus and I frowned. "Then you can beat him up."

  Cronus bowed his head. "I will take what punches connect with me," he agreed.

  Ian choked out a laugh. "You know I can't hit you."

  "Precisely."

  "Damn it. I still want to know where you were," Ian persisted.

  "If you must know, I kept my word to this woman-" Cronus nodded at me, "-and investigated the area."

  "And? Found the woman?" Ian asked him.

  Cronus reached into his jacket and pulled out an ankle bracelet. Ian's face fell and he took the anklet in hand. "Perfect. Just perfect."

  "Yes. Our foes underestimate the ingenuity of their captives," Cronus commented.

  Ian frowned. "What's that mean?"

  "Look inside the ring," Cronus instructed him.

  Ian turned the anklet over and I leaned forward. A faint glistening caught my eye. "Is that-"

  "Writing," Ian finished for me. He lifted the anklet closer and squinted his eyes. "2. 4. H." He leaned back and furrowed his brow. "That's it."

  My face drooped. "So what does it mean?"

  Ian shook his head. "I have no idea." His eyes flitted up to Cronus. "You have any clue?"

  "They are a mystery to me," he replied.

/>   Ian sighed and tucked the anklet into his torn overcoat. "I guess this is another clue for Ruthven to look into." He tried to stand, but his legs buckled and he fell onto his knees. "Damn. Those things really packed a punch. . ." he murmured.

  Cronus studied a deep gash on Ian's arm. His eyebrows crashed down and his eyes flickered to Ian's face. "Were these Phantoms?"

  "Yeah, but not normal ones. That guy in the white suit said they were courtesy of the mystics they've caught so far," Ian told him. He again tried to rise, and his wobbly legs supported him with most of his weight leaning against me. "But how about we talk about this at home where there's probably fewer witnesses for when I kill you."

  "It would be wise to leave before our foes decide they have a chance against us," Cronus agreed.

  Cronus slung one of Ian's arms across his shoulders and I did the same. We hefted Ian outside, and Cronus pushed us to the left.

  "What's the big idea?" I growled at him.

  "He's saying, in his pushy way, that the car's that way," Ian explained.

  "Oh. Right."

  We dragged Ian around the office end of the factory. There was a stretch of twenty feet between the building and the fence, and the car sat just inside the fence. The entrance for the vehicle was a large hole in the chain-link. You could've driven a tank through it.

  "How'd you know that hole was there? You scout it out beforehand?" I guessed.

  "No, Google Maps," Ian told me. "We doubled-back after you went inside and parked there before we snuck inside through an office window. We figured the Phantoms would be so distracted by you that they wouldn't notice."

  "And if you'd been wrong?" I asked him.

  "Then we'd probably be using that code clue to look for you," he replied.

  "Thanks. That gives me such comfort," I retorted.

  We hefted Ian to the car, and he grabbed the driver's side car door handle to get into the driver's seat. I pulled us away and his fingers slipped from the handle.

  "Oh no, you're not getting us killed," I told him.

  "You have your license on you?" he asked me.

  "You don't have enough strength to turn a door handle, much less a wheel," I retorted.

  "I will drive," Cronus offered.

  We both turned in his direction and blinked. I'd never seen him drive.

  "Do you know how to drive?" Ian asked him. Apparently the feat had never been witnessed by him, either.

  "Yes," Cronus replied.

  Ian sighed. "All right, but try not to scratch the paint."

  "I will do no worse than you," Cronus told him.

  His partner cringed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

  CHAPTER 10

  Ian was deposited in the front passenger seat, and Cronus drove us home without mishap. By the time we reached the house Ian was able to walk on his own. He led the way into our abode and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Ian turned to me as I stood behind Cronus at the end of our strange conga line.

  "You should get some sleep," he advised me.

  I frowned. "Why me?"

  "Your light show probably isn't good for your health without some rest," he pointed out.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "I feel-" A sudden exhaustion swept over me as the events of the night came back to haunt me like a bad burrito. I cringed and clutched at my stomach. "Or maybe not." The ache in my body, pushed aside by my concern for Ian, now returned in full force, and told me I was an idiot.

  "As an untrained mystic you'll drain your energy on easy uses. That wasn't an easy use," he commented.

  I clutched the banister and put my foot on the first step. "Maybe I will go to bed. . ."

  "Goodnight," Ian called to me.

  I mumbled something to him in return, but my mind was focused on rest. All of our adventuring that night meant the hour was past two when I flopped face-first onto my bed. I was out like a light, and didn't wake up somewhat later.

  The dark and shadowed view outside my window told me it was still night. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My body was still sore, and there was a ringing in one ear that I couldn't explain. My gaze wandered down to my clothes. They were wrinkled and covered in dust from the factory lobby.

  "Keep this up and you're going to end up like Ian wearing an overcoat all the time. . ." I mumbled to myself as I slithered out of bed.

  My shambling feet guided me downstairs, and a light from the front living room caught my attention. I stepped up to the entrance and looked into the room.

  Ian's chair, usually facing the entrance, was partially turned towards the hearth. A crackling fire burned brightly in the hearth and cast long shadows against the walls. Ian sat in the chair with a cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth. A thin stream of smoke rose from the lit end and into the air.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but something in his face caught my attention. There was a pensive expression on his face as his eyes watched the flickering flames without seeing what was in front of him. He held the anklet in one hand and turned it over and over again over his fingers.

  I cleared my throat. Ian started and spun around to face me. His eyes held a dangerous yellow in their depths until he realized it was only me. He relaxed and laid the anklet in his lap.

  "So you're finally awake," he commented.

  I snorted and took my usual place on the couch. "I haven't been asleep that long. It's still dark."

  "Yes, but a different night. You slept through the entire day," he revealed.

  I blinked at him. "Again?"

  "Again," he affirmed.

  I leaned back and ran a hand through my hair. "How do you do it? Making a living off of all this stress?"

  "The only other occupations I could think of for a werewolf were canine tracker or lab experiment. Compared to those this is a dream job," he told me.

  A strong flame from the fire cast its orange light on the round metal in his lap.

  I nodded at the anklet. "So what'd her friend say when you told her what happened?" I asked him.

  He took a drag on his cigarette and shrugged. "I told her we found a lead and were going to follow it."

  I frowned. "You know, that's almost lying."

  "'Almost' being the important word," he argued.

  "You contacted Ruthven yet to get his opinion?" I wondered.

  He chuckled. "You're on top of things for being asleep for most of the day."

  "My batteries are charged, but that doesn't answer my question," I argued

  Ian raised the anklet to eye-level and pinched the cigarette between his lips. "He's looking into it, but it's not much of a clue. We don't even know if the mystics are located inside the city. The Whisperers could have taken them anywhere."

  "But that Whisperer is still around, the one in white. Maybe that means the mystics are, too," I pointed out.

  Ian shrugged. "Maybe, or maybe he's their tracker to find the mystics." He tilted his head and studied me. "I've never seen a Whisperer so obsessed with a mystic before, especially a novice."

  I glared at him. "I'm not that much of a novice. I can make that light thing, and Cecilia can't even do that."

  He pulled out his cigarette and tossed it into the fire. "It's a good thing, too. Her body would probably explode."

  I straightened and blinked at him. "Say what?"

  "Her body would probably explode from the effort," he rephrased as he lit up another cigarette. "It takes a lot of built-up energy to create that light barrier. The effort would probably kill her."

  I cringed. "So if I do it wrong then-"

  "You're toast," he finished.

  My face fell. "Just great. My best ability and it could blow me up."

  Ian took a drag of his cigarette and sent a puff of smoke into the air. "It could, but I don't think it will."

  I frowned. "How come you know so much about mystics? Even Cecilia didn't mention anything about her blowing up."

  "It's not my area of expertise. Cronus told me about it," he informed me. />
  I glanced around the room. "So how does he know about it?"

  "That's for-" I waved my hand.

  "I know, I know, for me to find out by asking him," I finished for him. I snorted and dropped my hand into my lap. "Like he'd tell me."

  Ian turned to look at me, and his face grew contemplative. "You know, I don't think he really hates you."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Are we talking about the same Cronus?"

  Ian chuckled and tucked the cigarette into his mouth. "He doesn't say much, but in a pinch he's never failed me."

  "Then what about last night?" I asked him.

  Ian shrugged. "We didn't need him, did we?"

  I furrowed my brow. "No, but it might have been helpful for him to throw in a few talismans while you were getting your butt kicked."

  His eyes swept over me and there was a softness in their depths I'd never seen. "I think you came to my rescue pretty well. It was like having my own guardian angel complete with a bright light."

  I blushed and looked away. "Well, don't expect me to save your ass twice in one night every night. It's a little exhausting."

  He chuckled. "I can imagine. I tried to wake you up for food, but even yelling in your ears didn't get you up."

  I cringed and rubbed a finger in my ear. "I guess that explains the ringing."

  "Of course, I suppose it's not really important that you woke up," he added as he turned to look at the fire. "Tonight is going to be a quiet night until we get another case or learn something from Ruthven."

  "So no chance of going for a stroll or a midnight ride?" I asked him.

  He smiled and shook his head. "No. I may look healed, but my body's a little too sore to save you from another lamia."

  I leaned back against the couch and slumped further into the cushion, forgetting that it wasn't he who'd saved me from the creature.

  "Just one call. . ." I whispered.

  "Pardon?" he asked me.

  "Isn't there some way I can contact my family and friends?" I asked him. "You know, by phone? Maybe an email?"