Amends: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Series (A Diana Hawthorne Supernatural Mystery Book 2)

by Carissa Andrews

  Lost Causes

  Renaldo quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “He’s your grandpa?”

  I plaster on a sympathetic smile and nod.

  Ren’s BS-o-meter is probably picking up what I’m laying down, but the excuse is believable enough that he’s struggling to fully question it.

  I gotta hand it to him, he’s more intuitive than I give him credit for.

  “Then why did you call him Kyros instead of gramps or something?” he asks, his expression hardening.

  “He gets confused. Part of the dementia. We use his name to keep him grounded to reality,” I say, surprised at how easily the lies come.

  If I weren’t immortal, I’d be heading straight to hell, or Tartarus, or the underworld—whatever you want to call it these days. However, I trust my instincts and I know without a doubt that Renaldo would lose his ever-loving mind if he knew the whole truth. If I can protect him from all of this craziness, I’m going to. Or at least do my damnedest.

  He mulls over my words, narrowing his eyes, as he untangles his arms and presses his palms over his knees. “Well, I guess that does explain a few things,” he says, exhaling deeply. “At least that means I don’t have to worry about working with him. My god, could you imagine?” His eyes nearly bug out of his head and he fans himself like the thought alone might make him faint.

  I chuckle. “Funnily enough, I can.”

  He shudders in response.

  “Oh, behave. He’s not that bad,” I say, trying hard not to smirk.

  The truth is, Kyros and Renaldo have a lot of tendencies in common. They’re both fiercely loyal, great with the clientele, and gay. Granted, I’m pretty sure that last tidbit would throw Ren over the edge.

  However, as I consider the similarities, my connection to Ren makes more sense than it ever has.

  Could it be that a part of me remembered working with Kyros, even though my memory of being the Oracle was locked? Or at least the idea of him?

  “What?” Ren says, suddenly self-conscious under my scrutiny. He pinches a strand of his hair as if he might find something stuck in it.

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m just happy to be back. I missed your crazy ass.”

  His features soften, as I knew they would. He can’t resist a compliment. Backhanded or otherwise. A slow grin spreads across his lips.

  “All right, before you get too big of a head, can I make that call to Demetri?” I ask, tilting my head toward my desk.

  Ren sits up a little straighter, his head bobbling on his neck slightly as he weighs his additional questions against his own worry for Demetri. I sit back and wait, feeling the tide in his emotions turn back again toward helping Demetri.

  “Yeah, you better get on that. I know I’d feel a lot better knowing you were able to talk some sense into that man,” Ren says, his voice betraying the fact that he does actually care about others more than he lets on.

  I smile at him and nod. “Good.”

  He gets up, then walks over to the doorway leading to the front of the store. He stops in the archway and turns back. “Just so you know, I’ll hold clients off for as long as I can, but I make no promises as to how long that will be.”

  “Thanks, Ren,” I say, understanding full well he means for today. No one knows I’m back yet, so if I want to have some time to myself, I’ll need to grab it now.

  His lips press into a thin line. “It’s what I do.” He runs his hand through his hair and straightens his shoulders with cocky flair. With head held high, he does a mock hair toss and stalks off.

  I huff a quiet laugh and walk to the phone. Without a second thought, I dial Demetri’s number.

  Practically holding my breath, I listen to the ring of the phone until the machine picks up.

  “Hey, this is Demetri Lykaios but looks like you missed me. Drop me a message and I’ll get back to you.”

  BEEP.

  “Hi Demetri, it’s Diana. Renaldo said you called. If you’re there, pick up,” I say, closing my eyes and putting my feelers out into the universe. Part of me anticipates the crackle of the phone as it disconnects the machine. When it doesn’t happen, I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to force my mind to locate him.

  Instead of getting a pulse on where Demetri is, an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach and I clench my jaw.

  “Demetri? Are you there?” I repeat, panic seeping into my voice. “All right, don’t answer. I’m on my way.”

  I hang up the phone, knowing full-well this means even more time away from Blake and Kyros, but it’s unavoidable. If something is wrong with Demetri and I did nothing to check it out, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

  Picking up the phone, I call my home number. Blake answers on the third ring.

  “Hey, Blake, it’s me,” I say, sighing as I slump into my leather chair.

  “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good,” he says.

  “I’m really sorry. I know I said I wouldn’t be gone long, but I need to check in on Demetri,” I say, unsure just how much detail I should go into. He already knows about the call, since I filled him in quick before I left, but there’s a strange edge of anxiety talking to Blake about Demetri. I suppose it’s thanks to the fact that Demetri and I had a passing fling before we realized it wasn’t going to work.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t been able to get ahold of him and after talking to Ren, I’m worried. I just want to check in on him quick to make sure he’s all right,” I say, tapping the desk beside the phone. “Will you be okay for a little longer?”

  There’s a bit of a pause, but he says, “I think we can manage.”

  “Thanks, Blake. Really, I’m so sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can and I promise, I’ll make it up to you,” I say, ignoring the guilt riding me in waves.

  “I like the sound of that,” Blake teases. I can hear the smile in his voice and a shiver rolls through me as the implications weave through my mind.

  Without meaning to, I whimper a little too loudly.

  Blake chuckles. “Go, Diana. Do what you need to do. But hurry back, if you can. I’m making arrangements, so we can go to dinner. Without Kyros.”

  “You are?” I say, my pulse quickening with the idea. It’s not often I’m caught unaware, but when I am it seems to be with him. I kinda like it.

  “Just be back here by six, okay?” Blake says, his voice almost husky.

  My eyes flick to the clock. “It’s barely gone noon.”

  “Then you should have no trouble,” he practically purrs. “Talk to you soon, beautiful.”

  He hangs up without giving me a chance to say goodbye.

  I set the receiver down and moan softly.

  A dinner with Blake sounds heavenly. If I can just get to that point…

  “All right, Diana, let’s knock some sense into Demetri, so I can get back and enjoy the rest of the day,” I whisper to myself, as I make a quick escape through the back garden.

  Demetri’s house isn’t far if you’re in a car, but when you’re walking it still takes a good half hour. Thankfully the spring day has warmed enough that the walk there is enjoyable.

  By the time I’m standing on his front stoop, I’ve thoroughly fantasized about the way my dinner date with Blake might turn out. As much as I would love to sneak into his mind and get an idea of what he’s up to, I continually remind myself that being surprised is a thing of beauty.

  Now, however, reality is slapping me upside the head and I know this conversation with Demetri will likely be a buzzkill, regardless of how necessary it might be.

  Demetri and I have always had a fairly easy-going relationship, even after the romance fizzled. But now, I just feel awkward as I raise my hand to knock on the door.

  “You’re a big girl, just get this over with,” I mutter under my breath. Without allowing myself a chance to change my mind, I rap my knuckles against the wood as hard as I can.

  I take a step back, waiting.
In the past, Demetri’s powers would have alerted him to my presence, and he would have been inside the door, ready to invite me in. This time, the silence that expands between my knock grows with my anxiety.

  Taking a step toward the door, I knock again. “Demetri? It’s Diana,” I call out, hoping hearing my voice will be enough to get him to come to the door.

  I close my eyes, allowing my mind to settle and my gifts to take over. The knowing pulses through my being.

  He’s inside. That much is certain. The rest is a big question mark.

  A fresh wave of anxiety blooms inside my gut and I slam the side of my hand against the door.

  “Demetri,” I say again, louder this time, “come to the goddamn door, or I swear to all that’s holy, I will make a spectacle out here. I know you’re in there.”

  I don’t exactly know what kind of spectacle, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.

  Luckily, I don’t have to consider the possibilities too long because the lock behind the door clicks back and opens a crack.

  “What do you want?” Demetri asks, his voice gruff and his words slightly slurred.

  “Have you been drinking?” I blurt out.

  “What’s it to you? You the alcohol police now, too?” Demetri snorts.

  My mouth snaps shut. “You know what I mean. God, Demetri, it’s barely gone noon.”

  His gray-blue eyes are watery and he blinks slowly at the comment. However, he doesn’t say a thing.

  Sighing to myself, I take a step back. “Look, Ren’s worried about you and now so am I.”

  “Well, yippie,” he mutters. “I now rank ‘worry’ by the great and powerful Diana Hawthorne.”

  “Oh, stop. What the fuck is this, Dem? This isn’t like you—”

  “Like me?” he growls, opening the door wider. The stench of alcohol and body sweat rolls out and I do my best not to wrinkle my nose. “Nothing’s like me anymore. Not even me. So, what difference does any of it make? Maybe this is the new me.”

  “So, you’re…what? Gonna throw in the towel? What the hell kind of mentality is that?” I spit. “Maybe the universe was right in taking away your abilities if this is how you treat your life—like it doesn’t matter at all.”

  “The universe didn’t take away my gifts, Diana. You did,” he fires back. “Your obsession with your damn past finally backfired big-time. Only, I’m the one who paid the price.”

  I open my mouth to tell him how it didn’t backfire. That I remember everything now thanks to his sacrifice, but I think better of it. Instead, I glare at him and clench my fists.

  He tips his chin and smiles sardonically. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know damn well this reverb should have been yours.”

  “Maybe it should have,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “That’s why I’m here. I want to help. We can figure this out and fix it.”

  Demetri huffs out a laugh. “Wow, your delusion of grandeur knows no bounds, does it? You walk around like you’re a god, Diana. But I have a news flash for you—you’re not. This is out of your control. Thanks for your offer, but I think I’ll pass. You’ve done enough damage.”

  “Demetri—” I say, taking a step toward him.

  “Go away, Diana. Ignore what I said to Renaldo. I was drunk and said some shit. I’m a lost cause, but I’ll figure it out on my own. Cut me loose and be a big deal somewhere else,” Demetri says, slamming the door in my face.

  Part of me wants to kick the door down so I can talk some sense into him. But the wiser part of me—the more knowing part—tells me I need to let him sit in his misery for now. It’s enough for him to know I came to talk to him. That I made the effort. Even if he wants to shut me out at the moment.

  But if he thinks this is over, he’s far off base. I’ll be back and I will get through to him—or help him somehow. He’s right about all of this being my fault.

  Now, it’s up to me to fix it, even if he doesn’t think it’s possible.

  God, I am not, but I do know a few, dammit. And they’re gonna help if I have anything to say about it.

  9

  What in God's name?

  How did I get myself into such a big mess?

  On one hand, my life has never felt more complete. My memories continue to fill in gaps that have been missing for as long as I can remember. In addition, the draw to Blake is so intense at times, I can hardly imagine my life before I realized who he was and how important he is to me.

  But there are still so many pieces of my past that have cracked wide open and I need to fix them before they blow up in my face.

  I take a deep breath, allowing the warm spring air to calm my nerves as I walk.

  I’d love nothing more than to go home, wrap myself in Blake’s arms and forget any of these problems exist. But I know myself better than that. Without a resolution, I’m going to be a ball of nervous energy and suffice it to say, that’s not great date material.

  How am I going to be able to enjoy dinner with Blake knowing Demetri is teetering on the edge? My only consolation is that if Demetri did try something crazy—I’m ninety-eight percent sure I’d get a heads up from my gifts. He’s been too much a part of my life these past few years.

  Houses fly by in my periphery, as I lose myself in my thoughts. Both my mind and my psychic abilities get to work, as I try to find a solution to the problem. Unfortunately, outcomes shift through my mind like sand, with no clear guidance rising to the surface.

  Without meaning to, I find myself at the backside of Inner Sanctum, my feet instinctively carrying me to the most prominent place in my world. At least, it was.

  For a moment, I internally debate whether or not I should keep walking or head inside. But something niggles at the back of my awareness, like I should be here. Perhaps it’s so I can unwind a bit before heading out on my date? If anyone can help me get in the right mindset, it’s Ren.

  Smirking to myself, I take step toward the back gate and unlatch the lock to enter the garden. The moment I swing the gate open, Renaldo spins around with a high-pitched yelp that could rival a little girl’s.

  His splayed hands fly to his mouth, and his dark eyes are tiny dots in a sea of white. After a second, he fans himself with one hand to evidently keep from fainting. “Diana-bloody-Hawthorne, don’t do that.”

  I narrow my gaze and speak slowly, suddenly suspicious. “Don’t enter my place of work?”

  “You know what I mean, for crying out loud,” he sputters, opting to drop his splayed fingertips to his chest.

  “I really don’t,” I say, blinking slowly.

  He gapes at me. “For someone so psychic, you sure are dense.” Twisting around, he stands on his tip-toes and peers into the windows of my reading room.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? I’m hiding,” Ren says, clutching the collar of his shirt like it’s a cloak of invisibility.

  I open myself to the energies in and around the store, but I don’t find anything out of place.

  “I’m not sensing—”

  “Shhhhh—” Renaldo says, cutting me off. He ducks and gropes for me on the way down.

  I crouch down with him, unable to stop the giggles from erupting. “Are you hiding from Brody?”

  He shoots me a confused look. “What? No—I’m hiding from the giganta-line of people who want to have a word with, and I quote, ‘the most powerful psychic in the world.’” He ends the sentence complete with air quotes.

  “What?” I stand up, trying to peer through the windows the way Renaldo had.

  He grabs hold of my hand and tugs me back down. “Are you insane? They’ll see you—”

  “But shouldn’t you be dealing with them? Get them on the books?” I say, trying to be reasonable as I fight off the internal alarms sounding in the back of my mind.

  Why can’t I sense them? And how the hell did they know I was back?

  Most. Powerful. Psychic.

  “Shit,” I sputter, running my hand over my face.


  Ren shoots me an annoyed look. “What in god’s name now?”

  God’s name is about right.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I repeat, as I pace the central walkway in the back garden.

  I knew leaving Greece wasn’t going to be the end of things. Apollo’s been hiding his intentions from me, pulling back my abilities just enough so I didn’t question it.

  “Dammit,” I spit. “Okay, look, Ren…we need to deal with them. They’re not going to go away.”

  “Have you lost your mind? The line practically goes around the block,” he squeaks.

  I straighten my shoulders, settling into the resolve I feel growing. If Apollo thinks he’s going scare me back to Greece by invoking everyone here with a pressing question, he’s got another think coming. In ancient times, I could see thousands of people a day without batting an eye.

  “We can handle this,” I say, reaching for the door.

  “Like hell, we can,” he says, his hands swinging out in diva style. “No offense, but have you met you? You barely let me put five people a day on your books and you want to deal with a horde? Kid you not, it’s a horde. Did you hit your head on the way to Demetri’s?”

  I close my eyes and inhale sharply through my nose.

  Shit, he’s right.

  “Well, what do you propose we do? Hide in the garden for the rest of the day? I have a date with Blake tonight and I’ll be damned if I miss it,” I mutter, dropping my hand from the door and taking a step back.

  For the briefest of moments, Renaldo looks like he’s about to get excited over the prospect of my date—but the back gate that I came through rattles. Without missing a beat, he races past me and clicks the lock into place.

  “I heard that. I know you’re back there—” someone says from the other side. The gate rattles again, pulsing in and out, like they’re trying to yank it open despite the enormous steel lock.

  Renaldo rushes back to me, grabbing hold of my arm, as he hides behind me. He pushes me forward a bit like I’m the sacrificial lamb. “See what I mean? They’re ca-razy,” he hisses. “Oh my god, we’re going to die back here.”