Blake’s intense stare pulls me from my own thoughts and he pulls my hands into his.
I’m suddenly inundated and overwhelmed by the love he feels—the trust and loyalty—devotion, even. He doesn’t have the words to express what he’s feeling or why, but I know destroying Mnemosyne’s mark has opened up more than simply my own memories. Something new is arising in him. Perhaps he’ll be able to take what I say after all.
“Diana, I’m not going to say I understand everything you do—or everything we’ve been through…” he begins, “but what I do know is, this feeling I have for you—it’s deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before. I want to know why—I need to know what’s going on with you. Why the secrecy and mystery?”
His eyebrows tug in and the pulse in his hands throbs against my fingertips.
“Blake, you know those dreams you’ve been having your whole life? The ones you had to start drawing in order to get them out of your mind?”
“Of course,” he says, scrunching his eyebrows in.
“You’re right—you and I have a deeper connection than most,” I say, shaking my head.
I sound like a moron.
“Go on,” he urges.
Pulling his hands closer, I lead him to one of the benches placed out for tourists. It’s not part of the original structure, but I’m grateful for their functionality.
“I believe the reason you’ve been having those dreams—is because of a past life,” I say, watching him closely.
“Hmmm.”
He takes the news with stride but sets his hands in his lap as he considers.
“I know it sounds a bit strange to start it like this, but I need to in order for the rest to make sense,” I say, biting my lower lip.
“Okay, so what’s the rest?” he says, narrowing his eyes.
“The dreams were memories for you—traumatic memories. You—well, the person you once were, anyway—you were murdered in the cavern where we found the girls a long, long time ago.”
“How long?”
“We’re talking Ancient Greece times,” I say sheepishly.
“Alright,” he says, skepticism permeating the word, “and I was—murdered? How would you even know? Is this a vision thing?”
“No, not a vision,” I say, shaking my head. “I was with you.”
“So you have your own reincarnated memories?” he says, trying to understand.
“Not exactly. I was there with you—you and I… we were married,” I say, holding his gaze. If he could only see it in my eyes—if he could only feel my soul—maybe he’d know.
Blake snorts. “But that’s impossible. It would make you—”
“Two-thousand-three-hundred-eighty-four,” I say, my eyebrows arcing high.
“How in the hell?” he says, his words coming out slow.
“I’m—oh hell, there’s really no other way to say it, so I’m just gonna spit it out and sound like a lunatic. I’m the Oracle of Delphi. Like, as in, the Oracle. This is my rightful place and you were once one of the guards for the Temple of Apollo. You were sworn to protect me and the Pythia’s sisterhood—the priestesses who were a part of my inner sanctum because they didn’t have the gift of immortality, the way I do.”
His eyes widen.
“You’re…immortal?”
I nod, my lips tightening.
“It’s kind of a shit deal, if you ask me. Definitely not something I would wish upon anyone else. Though, I guess it has its perks. I heal fast,” I say, winking, then placing my palm over my recent bullet wound.
His eyes brighten with recognition, “Whoa—hold up a minute. You’re telling me, you knew you couldn’t die when you got shot because you can’t die—and you didn’t tell me?”
I shake my head in surprise. Of all the things he’s concerned about, it’s that I didn’t tell him not to worry over me.
“You’re right—I should have told you I heal fast. Maybe it would have prevented some of your dismay. But honestly, there were more pressing concerns, don’t you think?”
“Not overly. The girls were safe. Lester was in custody… And hang on a second—I thought I read once, or maybe it was a History Channel thing…the Oracle of Delphi was stoned to death?” Blake says, tilting his head. “If you’re her and can’t die—I’m so confused.”
“There was a time when I was forced into hiding by the Christians, but they never caught me. I have no doubt they would have tried their best to kill me, though. In reality, those stories, in my opinion, originated to explain my disappearance.”
“Why did you disappear?” he asks, his eyes trained on me.
“That’s where you come back in,” I say, gently.
He makes a face.
“One of my sisters didn’t believe our bond was gifted by Apollo. She felt it was tainting the reputation of the Pythia, as I had handed my innocence over to you. We were married in secret and didn’t flaunt it. There was no need—but naturally, everyone knew anyway,” I say, remembering back to the way everyone was so happy for us—thrilled we had found a way to be together, despite the odds. “You were meant to be with me forever—you weren’t meant to die. Apollo approved of our union—but Iphitheme was jealous and heartbroken. She wanted to prove to me—to all the other priestesses you were mortal, just like they were…”
“So, a priestess murdered me?”
“Yes,” I say, my mind instantly flashing back to the standing pool inside the cavern—the blood on my hands. His blood. His limp body. I relive the rushing memories from his consciousness as they departed his dying cells. His shock, desperation, and horror when he realized what was happening.
“Wow—this is…it’s a lot to take in,” he says, staring out at the mountain view in front of him.
“It really is.”
We sit in silence for a few moments, absorbing the revelations and taking in the moonlit view. I wish I could gift him some of the memories I have—some of the insights and feelings I know to be true.
“Because I lost you, I couldn’t deal. I was completely lost. It was as though my whole world was imploding because what I was experiencing—it no longer made sense. My world no longer made sense.”
Blake tilts his head, watching me from the side of his eye, but doesn’t say anything.
I continue, “I was—distraught. I enacted a powerful ritual to remove my memories—all memories of you. All traces of you that I could. The symbol in your dreams—the symbol that continued to haunt my mind and put an immense drain on my abilities—it’s Mnemosyne’s mark. I didn’t expect it to be as powerful as it was—and I certainly didn’t expect how far-reaching it was. I mean, I couldn’t get a single read on you at all—”
“Ah—this mark—that’s why you struggled with reading me.”
I nod.
“Talk about weird physics. Or metaphysics?” he shakes his head. “I meant to ask you—how is it you can read me now? Or know any of this? What happened to you in the cavern?”
“I was being pulled another direction—the entire time we were in the cave, it was as though the ritual was calling me back,” I say. “It was powerful.”
Suddenly, memories from the full moon ritual with Demetri flood my consciousness. I see the circle we cast, the Violet Flame of Transmutation, Morgan and Gabe and her map to find her final five guardians. I didn’t think it had worked for me—but I was wrong. The intentions of how we manipulated its magic to transmute and transform the energy surrounding my memories—it had worked all along. It just needed to guide me to my path so I could fulfill its purpose. Time had to run its course and free will had to play its roll.
“So, you…went hunting for something? Is that why I couldn’t find you?”
“Yes—I know I should have been focused on the girls, but when you’ve spent millennia trying to unlock your mind—and you realize you might be close—”
Overwhelmed by the intense desire to bring him current, to explain myself in a way that can’t be explained by words, I take a breath and al
low the full capacity of my God-granted gifts to flow through me. These abilities—they’ve always been more than just a simple psychic ability—they’re powers in their own right and I’ve never even given them the attention they deserve.
Placing my middle two fingers alongside Blake’s temple the way Morgan did for me, I close my eyes, summoning the power to relay some of the details I’ve lived through these past few weeks. The hunt for Esther, the realization there were other girls. I show him the ritual with Demetri, Morgan, and Gabe—the Violet Flame. The insights to Mnemosyne’s symbol and the ritual of drinking from the River of Lethe. My heartache as I found him dead in the cave and the way I feel now that I know.
The memories rush through me, flooding from me into his consciousness. I show him the thread tying his soul through the ages—directly to back to Anastasios. I gift him the years of memories we shared together—our childhood. The time we spent together by the Gulf of Corinth—first as young children. Our first kiss by the water’s edge. Our moonlit wedding and the gifts granted by Apollo. Everything I feel and have felt throughout the long, lonely existence of my life.
Blake pulls back, his eyes wide, but dazzling in amazement.
He takes my outstretched hand, placing it over his heart.
“I—I don’t even know how to describe—” he begins.
“You don’t have to. I just, I needed you to see and feel what I do.”
I search his eyes, wanting to see at soul level what impact this may have had.
After a moment, he licks his lower lip and takes a deep inhalation. “That was—an experience I will never forget. Well, obviously. I mean, I had no idea—no clue something like that was possible, let alone everything you’ve been through. I mean, I was following you. I heard what you were saying about being the reincarnation of your husband and while I understand and felt something, I dunno, resonate in your words…I guess—it’s nothing like the experience of it.”
A slow smile slides across my lips. “Tell me about it.”
His eyes fall to the ground, as he clutches my hand to his body—his eyes going distant and far away. We sit in silence for a moment, taking in the moonlit sights and sounds.
“I think I hold a missing piece to your puzzle,” he whispers.
“What do you mean?”
“When you—whatever you just did knocked some things loose for me. Memories of my own. At least, I think that’s what they are.”
His eyes narrow as he stares at the rocky ground, trying to recollect.
My heart hitches and I lean forward. “Can you explain?”
“I remember you—us. I remember our connection and my side of the exchanges you sent me. But…I was never gifted immortality, Diana. Or should I say, Amara?” he says, grinning.
Hearing my birth name—or rather, his nickname for my birth name, Amarantham, pulls me up short. It’s been eons since I last went by that name. Tears brim at my eyes and my forehead crumples as I deal with this proclamation.
Blake’s eyes are wide and sympathetic as he waits for the news to settle and his hands refuse to drop mine from his heart.
“But we were told—” I sob.
“We were only told I would be by your side forever. That’s all,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“And how is that not immortality?” I say, splaying my other hand out wide in front of us.
“Because the only way a human soul can walk alongside an immortal is…”
He holds the silence, waiting for me to catch up.
My eyes widen. “Reincarnation. Oh my God. I’m so stupid. How did I not know? How did I not pick that up?”
My fingertips graze my lips and I sit in horror at the revelation. Sure, it would have sucked to locate him again, to have to go through years of childhood and adolescence before he could be with me again—but my gifts would have easily brought him to me. Instead, I forced myself into two millennia alone. I forced him into two millennia reincarnating without me. All that time lost…
“You weren’t meant to know. It was my burden to carry and a promise I made to Apollo in exchange for his approval. He knew we’d continue to find our way to one another and he wanted the timing to be right for you to learn the truth.”
“Why would timing even matter?”
Tears stream over my cheeks, dropping to my lap.
“I don’t know, beautiful. It wasn’t my place to question a God,” he says. “Holy shit—I’ve dealt with a God.” His eyebrows tug in and he shakes his head. “Until now, I’ve been 100% atheist.”
“I’m sure under the circumstances, Apollo will forgive you,” I say swiping at the tears and chuckling despite myself.
“Sure as hell hope so. I mean, wow—how many people can say they’ve had that sort of interaction? Well, and not been locked up for it?” he says, scratching at the back of his neck with his right hand.
“Not many,” I laugh. “I thought for sure you’d have me committed after this conversation was over.”
Blake shakes his head, “No way. We’re in this together.”
My heart lightens, as my burden of loneliness is lifted from my being. For the first time in forever, I feel light as air and smile with the light and love of Apollo.
“Besides,” he adds, “we can’t have our first true ‘official’ date at the coffee shop when you’re strapped down to a bed. Well, okay—that could come after, if you’re into that sorta thing now.”
His grin is infectious, and his lopsided dimples emerge in a way that instantly melts my heart.
“You’ll have wait and find out,” I say, pushing at his shoulder playfully.
“For you—I’ll wait forever and then some.”
His right hand slides beneath my hair, tugging at my neck and drawing me closer. I close my eyes, feeling his lips as they press against my own in a strange mix of memory and magic. I breathe it all in—embracing the present moment and all the beauty it has to offer.
At first, all I perceive is his fragrance of grapes hidden in the depths of his cologne—but it twists into something else.
Mnemosyne’s scent of jasmine and rose floods my nostrils, taking over everything.
“Pythia—it is time. Are you ready to resume your role as the rightful Oracle of Delphi?”
IS THIS THE END?
Diana Hawthorne’s story continues, starting February 2021! Preorder your copies today!
Oracle: Book 1
Amends: Book 2 (February 2021)
Immortals: Book 3 (May 2021)
Awakening
1
Cassidy
It’s craziness to believe the gods and goddesses have returned.
After all this time—millennia of wondering if they were real—there hasn’t been a single inclination to point to their existence. Not truly and really.
I know we’re in a bind here. People are missing, and we can’t explain their disappearances. But I’ll never understand the allure of conjuring up stories to make you feel better. I’d rather face the stone-cold truth for what it is. At least then I can determine whether or not something is in my control.
Braham groans, shifting in his seat for the hundredth time. “We’d get outta here faster if we walked.”
I laugh and nod. “Is that on the table?”
“Sure—haven’t you been training to walk for three hundred-plus miles with a hundred and fifty pounds in tow?” he says, his tone playful.
My lips purse of their own accord, and I shift my gaze out into the sea of cars and trucks in front of me. “Yeah, no.”
He sighs. “Looks like we’re at the whim of the masses then, I’m afraid.”
His gaze shifts from the windshield to me, and my lips curve upward. His dark-brown eyes penetrate my own, and for a moment, he takes my breath away. Even now. Even after eight years of marriage.
Reaching across the center console, he places his warm hand on my thigh and squeezes gently.
“Hey, you’re beautiful, you know,” he whispers.
“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.” I grin back.
He quirks an eyebrow. “I’m beautiful now?”
I chuckle. “You always have been, silly man.”
“Interesting. I always thought I was debonair,” he says, tilting his chin to the side and kissing the air.
“Yeah—beauty gone.” I sigh in mock disgust.
Internally, I’m totally grinning.
Honestly, he can be such a nut when he wants to be. When he’s not completely engrossed in his work, that is. But…that’s over now, with everything that’s been happening.
“Did you read the latest about the disappearances? Some people are claiming it’s a mysterious purge being done to us by the gods and goddesses. As if they are finally angry with us and the direction we’ve taken. They’ve decided to return and wreak some havoc. Can you believe people are actually buying it?” I ask, snickering to myself.
It’s one of the more absurd explanations, but of course the gullible are buying it rather than seeing it for what it is. Likely a government cover-up as the politicians desperately try to bring the population under control.
We’re on the brink of an extinction-level event if we’re not careful.
Absently, I stroke my growing belly.
Braham laughs, shifting in his seat. He throws me a sideways glance, and I sit up straighter.
I know that laugh—after years of marriage you delve deep into the inner workings and outward ticks a person has.
“Oh, no … no you don’t. You don’t buy that nonsense, too, do you?” I ask, my jaw slacking open. “The old gods? Braham—? I thought we were in agreement about this.”
For the first time in ages, he winces.
My hand flies to my forehead, and my mouth pops open. Leaning back in my seat, I stare out into the abyss of glass and steel.
What is this world coming to?
“I dunno, Cass,” he says with more seriousness than he’s had all day. “There’s something about the stories that resonates with me. Can’t put my finger on why. Maybe it’s all that’s gone wrong for the past few years.”
The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension - Limited Edition Box Set (4 Books): A Supernatural Thriller Box Set Page 27
