"What do you mean?" I dropped back down into the chair I had vacated. "I don't see what you're getting at, Stick."
Cyrus knelt down in front of me and rested his elbows on top of my knees. "Kassandra's prophecies were not meant to be believed nor were they meant to be remembered by the subjects of her visions. That was the condition of Apollo's curse. Her script was bound to be destroyed in some way or another."
"I know what she said." I knitted my eyebrows together. "It wasn't that hard to memorize, you know."
"What do you remember, dear girl? Can you remember?"
"I," I wanted to prove Cyrus wrong. I couldn't do it. The second I tried to recall the words I had read, my mind went blank. It took a few minutes, but I finally gave up with a sigh of resignation. "Nothing. I can't remember anything."
"You are not the first to find it impossible to remember Kassandra's warnings. And the words will never return to you. Apollo was quite specific with the girl's curse. You may remember meeting Kassandra and talking with her. But when it comes to her prophecies?" Cyrus shook his head. "They are worthless."
I glanced over to the now empty coffee mug. Cyrus gestured to it with a nod.
"I will make you another. The kitchen downstairs was buzzing despite the early hour."
"No, it's fine. I'll send Joey to Starbucks instead." I picked up the DVD to check it for damage. There were a few splotches of coffee on the case, but no harm had been done to it. I handed it to Cyrus. "I think we can use this."
"What is it?" My beloved turned the case over in his hands. "A movie?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Sort of. Its security footage from the house on Sullivan's Island. My dad was really particular about protecting us."
"As he should have been." Cyrus kissed me on the cheek. He handed me the DVD back and stole a glance out the window. "It is still very early, Evie. Are you sure you don't want go back to sleep?"
"No. I heard from Percy. The funeral is scheduled for ten this morning. I need to get ready. And come up with a grand plan for Hermes. Not to mention rousting Joey up for that trip to Starbucks."
"Come here."
Cyrus lifted me out of the chair. He led me over to the loveseat and sat down. I curled up next to him to rest my head against his shoulder. He didn't say anything else. Just held me as we watched the sky begin to lighten. When the sun peeked up over the ocean, I whispered a prayer to our shared god. Yet I wasn't asking for his help. This prayer was to thank him for the one man strong enough to save me from myself.
Thank you for Cyrus, Papa Apollo. I don't know if I would be able to survive this without him.
Chapter Twelve
I thought I'd made progress. I thought I had regained a piece of myself before I had to listen to the pastor chosen by Steven Percy to perform the last rites. But as the service progressed and the man droned on about the new peace my parents now found in heaven, my emotions shifted between anger and sadness. I found myself gritting my teeth as I stared at the two ornate vases that held the remains of the people who had brought me into the world.
I shouldn't be here. They shouldn't have died. There was no sense to the violence that had taken them from me.
Perhaps it was my anger. Or perhaps, I was still in shock. I managed to hold my tears in check through each heart wrenching hymn. I stared at the flowers which lined the back of the church when the prayers were offered. I let my thoughts drift when I heard sobs in the pews behind me. I couldn't help but wonder if the mourners were saddened by the loss of my loved ones, or if they were being reminded of their own brief mortality.
I had to keep it together. I wouldn't allow the press waiting outside to see me as a tear soaked mess. So I focused on my anger. On Cyrus and Joey, who flanked me on the front row, each holding my hands as if to remind me that they were there. The family I had made for myself standing strong in light of the one I had lost.
When it was finally over, the pastor invited his entire audience out to the cemetery to witness the placement of the urns in our family mausoleum. I glared at the man when he stepped down from the podium and approached me. He nodded to my companions before helping me to my feet. The pastor was leading me down the aisle when he whispered in my ear.
"There is someone who wishes to see you. I believe they want to offer their condolences, dear."
"Doesn't everyone?"
I hissed as all eyes turned to watch me leave. I wasn't kidding when I said the whole town would show up. The church was packed. I didn't know any of them. I was sure they were all influential in the upper echelon of Charleston society. My mom had spent her entire life trying to be accepted by these people. It wasn't until my star rose that they even acknowledged her existence.
I hated each and every one of them.
Due to the ever present press, the front door was off limits, so the pastor handed me off to a tall man who reminded me of every undertaker I'd ever seen on television. He bowed his dark head to me as Joey and Cyrus caught up.
"The car is this way, please."
"Wait." I crossed my arms over my chest. "The pastor told me there was someone here to see me. Shouldn't I go see them first?"
Yeah. I wanted to postpone going to the cemetery as long as I could. Even if it meant letting a stranger simper all over me with their fake sympathies.
"The gentleman is with the car, m'am. So if you please."
The man began to walk again. I cut my eyes up to Cyrus who had yet to look away from the stranger. I knew what he was doing. I could read it on the stoic expression on his handsome face. He was assessing the situation. Calculating for any chance that we were about to be attacked. Finally, my keeper shook his head.
"Let's go. He will leave without us if we don't."
"I'm not opposed to that." I murmured where only he and Joey could hear me. "I really, really don't want to do this."
Neither Cyrus or Joey responded. Not that I had expected them to. So I squared my shoulders and headed out the door. Parked beneath an alcove behind the church was the standard black limousine seen in every funeral procession known to man. I stopped when I saw Hermes leaning against the door. Gone were the jeans and t-shirt. Instead, he was dressed in a dark suit. The small silver wings I had noticed on his hat were now attached to his lapel.
"No." I snapped when he opened the door. "I do not want to talk to you right now."
"Nice to see you too, Sibyl." The god swept his arm at the door. "I am going to ride with you to the cemetery."
"This is hard enough without you showing up." I glared at him as I lowered myself onto the seat. "I assumed you would have the decency to wait until after the funeral before coming back to make demands of me."
"You are angry?" Hermes grinned down at me through the open door. "Good. We can use that."
I scooted across the seat to distance myself from the god. I mean, really. Hermes was by far the most irritating being I had ever met.
Cyrus and Joey joined us, so Hermes banged on the roof of the limo before taking his own seat. When he was settled, he pulled a bag of bird seed from his jacket pocket.
"You come up with a plan yet?" The thief threw a handful of seeds out the window. When I didn't respond, he scowled. "I'm waiting."
"I am in the middle of something very important." I spoke through gritted teeth. "And you are interrupting it."
"Not as important as making sure the beast has been slain." He threw another handful of seeds out the window when we pulled off. "Be honest with me, Daughter of Apollo. I do not deal well with liars."
"And this coming from the god of thieves." I frowned as he continued his actions as we turned away from the church. "What are you doing?" "
"Feeding my brethren." Hermes must have noticed my confused expression because he was quick to clarify his response. "The birds. It helps me think. Right now, I am trying to come up with a course of action since you are clearly not interested in anyone other than yourself."
"That's not fair." I leaned back against the seat. "Besides, I did what yo
u asked. I came up with an idea. I am just not sure how effective it is going to be."
"Can I butt in on your bickering?" Joey looked between me and Hermes. I shut up and my friend extended his hand to the god riding with us. "Thanks. So who are you? I don’t believe we have met."
"Don’t tell Hermes you don't recognize him." I began to rummage through my purse to make sure I had more tissues. I had a feeling I was going to need them. "After all, he's famous."
“Forgive the girl.” Hermes ignored Joey’s hand. “She’s traumatized right now.”
I decided to bite my tongue as we passed the ornate gates of the St. Lawrence Cemetery. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the window as the memories came back to me. My parents used to bring me here every Sunday to put flowers in front of the black doors of the mausoleum. I thought this was a beautiful place then. Full of shadows and peace. But as the limousine came to a stop in front of the stone structure with my last name engraved across the side, I didn’t feel peace.
I felt like screaming.
I climbed out of the car and held onto Cyrus to keep from falling to my knees. Despite the visits from the police or what I had witnessed in the mirror, or even after meeting with Steven Percy and seeing the house so empty, I was still convinced that I was living someone else 's tragedy.
I knew they were gone. I recognized that as the pastor gathered us all in front of the mausoleum to say more heartbreaking words about death. But that didn’t make it any easier to believe. I tightened my hold on Cyrus’ arm when two men I’d never know placed the urns through the door encased in darkness. I watched them shut the doors before I moved.
The pastor fell silent when I walked past him. I stumbled over the white stones that created a path for me to take. The two strangers stepped aside when I passed them. I stopped only when I reached the doors and pressed my hand against it. I bowed my head as I let the overwhelming sadness of my loss fill me. As the heaviness of my guilt and the knot of my regret made me nauseous. I had fought back my sadness with anger. With Hermes. Even Cyrus. But here, in this place of rest, I couldn’t contain my emotions.
I slid down to my knees to whisper apologies to my parents. I doubled over and pressed my hand harder against the cold surface as I swore Elliot would pay for what he had done. I felt as if my heart had been ripped to pieces as I wept.
I knew I needed to say goodbye. I knew I would have to let them go. But nothing could force those words out of my mouth. I refused to believe I would never see them again. I refused to acknowledge Apollo’s ban. I would see their spirits again.
Someday. Somehow.
Someone wrapped their arms around my waist to keep me from falling forward on the gravel. No, not someone. Cyrus. He didn’t say a word as Joey joined him. I could hear the commotion around me. I could hear the pastor’s demands for the photographers who had stalked us here to step back. To allow me time to say my final goodbyes in peace.
I couldn't focus on them. I couldn’t breathe as I allowed the pain to fill my soul. I shook from the rage that filled my heart.
“Let it out, Little One. I'm here."
Cyrus had lowered his head to press it against mine. Joey tightened his grip around my shoulders. My friend mirrored my beloved’s pose on the opposite side of me. The two of them were doing more than shielding me from the cameras. They were providing me with the strength to unleash my despair. I forced my tears to subside when Joey reached in his pocket to pass me a handkerchief.
“Don’t cry, Evie. I can't stand it. We will do whatever we need to...”
Joey sounded choked up himself when I took the cloth from him. I forced my body to stop shaking. I forced myself to breathe until my heart stopped trying to pound out of my chest. I blew my nose and found the power to stand. My companions stood with me; each of them still holding me as I turned to face the crowd. I saw the photographers snapping their pictures and a news crew filming despite my request for privacy.
I took hold of both Joey and Cyrus. I had to. I would have collapsed if I didn't have them to cling to. I led them through the mourners and down to where the news crew was filming.
“Miss McRayne.” The reporter thrust her microphone in my face. “We here at News Channel 13 want to offer you our greatest sympathies.”
“Yeah. I bet you do.”
I turned to the camera. I knew that anything I said now would be broadcast all over the whole world. Yet there was only one person I needed to reach.
"Come and get me, Elliot. I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter Thirteen
I wanted to sleep when we finally returned to the Carriage House. I wanted to get drunk enough to forget who I was and why I was here. I wanted to run out into the street to shout to the heavens that Elliot Lancaster was a damned coward who deserved nothing short of the worst hell I could think of. But I couldn’t do any of those things. Instead, I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, threw my hair into a bun on top of my head, and went to work.
I bounded out of the hotel bathroom to find three very solemn men in black suits lounging around the suite. After my emotional breakdown at St. Lawrence, Cyrus, Joey, and Hermes began to treat me with kid gloves. Each of them finding ways to touch me. The three of them whispered as if the loudest noise would scare me away. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated their concern. But I wasn’t a porcelain doll.
And I’d be damned if they treated me like one.
“Joey, I need you to do something for me.” I went to my purse, dug around, and found the surveillance DVD beneath my wallet. I turned around just in time to catch Joey glancing over at Cyrus. “I need you to talk to the press hounds for me.”
“Evie.” Joey sighed as he ran his hand through his dark curls. “I can see you scheming all the way over here. Are you sure you are ready for this?”
“To cut Elliot down?” I nodded. “Absolutely.”
My three companions looked at each other before Hermes spoke up. “Look, Sibyl. I know I was hasty before about you helping me with the beast. But I’d forgotten something very important.”
“What?” I snapped. “What could you have possibly forgotten?”
“That you are still very much a human.” Hermes approached me with his hands tucked in his pockets. “You are filled with emotion. Distress. If you were to attack Lancaster right now, you would act based on your anger. You would be careless. And you would fail.”
“Little One, think for a moment.” Cyrus stopped right behind the wretched god. “You know Hermes and Joey are right. If Lancaster takes you up on the offer you so boldly proclaimed on television, then you are putting yourself in more danger than you realize.”
“I said I would focus on him after the funeral.” I breathed out my words in an attempt to control my temper. “The funeral is over. Now, I will do what I have to do.”
“What is that exactly?” Hermes tapped his fingers against his jaw. “What sort of plan do you have in mind?”
“I am going to confront him.” I stared at Cyrus while I spoke. “Alone.”
“Like hell you are.” My beloved’s eyes flashed with his anger. “Eva, you were successful in Montana, but that does not mean you will be a second time. I’ll be damned…”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Cyrus.” I slapped the plastic case against my leg. “Elliot killed my parents. He brought Hell itself to my doorstep. I will be the one to destroy him. Not you. Not Hermes. Not Joey. Me.”
“Not alone, you won’t.” Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest. “We are in this fight together, Eva. You go and I will be right behind you.”
“I hate to ruin this firecracker of a moment,” Hermes broke in. “But arguing with each other is not going to get me Lancaster’s soul.”
I fell silent as I faced off against my beloved. I saw his brief spark of temper diminish and his tense posture relax. He reached for my hand, pulled me past Hermes, and wrapped me up in his arms.
“I can’t lose you, remember?” Cyrus whispered in my ear. “I won’t let
you fight your battles alone.”
“Is that an order?” I closed my eyes when he brushed his fingers against the back of my neck. “Because I don’t follow orders, Cyrus.”
“No. It’s a promise.”
“Gaia’s garters.” Hermes threw back his head with an exaggerated sigh. “I hate having to work with lovers. Will you two just get on with the ‘I’m sorrys already? We have work to do.”
I glared at the god from my spot in my keeper’s arms. Cyrus squeezed me before he let me go.
“Tell me about this plan.” Hermes plopped down on the loveseat next to Joey. “We need to consider all the possibilities since it has been determined that you are our weakest link, Sibyl.”
“First off, I am not weak.” I whirled around to face him. “What happened to using my anger?”
“That was careless of me.” Hermes waved his hand to dismiss me. “Cyrus of Crete, tell me of the Skinwalker. What are his weaknesses?”
“Bullets knocked him down.” Joey rested his elbow against the arm of the loveseat. “But he was still in the fight until Evie stabbed him through the heart.”
“So he is strong.” Hermes pushed himself up until he was sitting on the edge of the cushion. “Does he gain his strength through Hera?”
“In a sense, my lord.” Cyrus stepped around me. “The beast gains his power through bloodlust. He has sacrificed humans to Hera, offering her their hearts. She repays his devotion through the power of transformation.”
“And he has been slaughtering innocents recently?” Hermes clasped his hands together. “How many?”
“Ten, including the McRaynes.” Cyrus glanced down at me. “He began his activities in Montana and continued them in California.”
“A direct blow to the Sibyl herself.” Hermes nodded when he stood up. He walked over to the kitchen area, fixed a glass of water, and handed it to me. “Drink this.”
“Why?” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “I didn’t ask for anything.”
The Oracle Series: Vols. 4, 5, & Grave Endowments Page 11
