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The Oracle Series: Volumes 1-3

Page 15

by Cynthia D. Witherspoon


  "Yeah? I didn't know you had it in you." I shook my head. "At any rate, Elliot made it quite clear we were through. Besides, I've made progress. I'm moving on with my life."

  I fiddled with the radio dials before me as I considered what I had just said. When we first came out to L.A., I had agreed to do Grave Messages for one single, simple reason. To be with Elliot. I was so afraid that if we were separated, he would forget all about me. So I signed up to do the show in the hopes of keeping our friendship intact just a little longer.

  It was great the first few weeks, aside from me turning into the Sibyl. We had spent everyday together working on the show. When Elliot confessed he couldn't live without me, I jumped at the chance to be with him. I had been in love with him for years. I was just too stubborn to admit it to myself.

  Ah, but as with all good things, we didn't make it. Our first and only fight was our last. Now, all the papers liked to talk about was his new girlfriend.

  "What was her name again?" I turned to Cyrus as he parked the car. "Andrea? Amanda?"

  "Allison." Cyrus gave me a condescending look. "Progress, hmm?"

  "Lots and lots of progress." I grumbled to myself as he came around to open the car door. "And no snide comments. I'm just curious."

  "I'll bet." Cyrus took my hand to help me out. "Come on. I put your wine in the refrigerator this morning. And you mustn't keep your tears and beer soundtrack waiting."

  I grumbled again, but this time, my words were not meant to be shared. I followed him through the parking lot to the condo Theia Productions had given to Elliot and me when we first moved to California. Even though Elliot had moved out within a week after our fight, I stayed behind because it reminded me of him. Gorgeous. Comfortable. Easy.

  I knew what I was going to find when I went inside. The same furniture, the same large rooms; even an astonishing view of the city below.

  The one thing I wouldn't find was the one person I wanted to see more than anyone else in the world. I swallowed back my sudden tears as I thought about the empty space Cyrus was leading me into.

  I could do nothing more than follow.

  ***

  "I don't care. I don't care. I don't care."

  I mumbled to myself as I flipped through a massive book of Greek mythology Cyrus had suggested. The pages flew beneath my fingers as I searched for something to preoccupy me. But no matter the story, I couldn't focus on the words in front of me. So after a dozen or so 'I don't cares' and two glasses of wine later, I threw the book across the room in frustration. Unfortunately, the resounding crash brought my keeper straight to my side.

  "Eva?" Cyrus stepped out of the shadows to pick up my book from the floor. "Is everything alright?"

  "No." I twirled my wine glass between my fingers. "I can't get settled, Cyrus. Not even my wine is helping tonight."

  "Perhaps you should take tonight off from your moping." Cyrus sat the book aside before reaching over to turn off my stereo. "You could always watch television."

  "No. There's nothing good on tonight." I tapped my fingers against the wooden desk I was sitting at as I made my decision. "I'm going out."

  "Out? As in outside?" Cyrus raised a single eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

  "Quite certain." I shooed him out of my room. "And you're coming with me. Now leave so I can get ready."

  Cyrus disappeared in an instant. I'm sure he was convinced that if he didn't, I would change my mind. I bolted over to my closet and threw open the doors in the hopes something would jump out at me to wear. I needed an outfit that screamed I was young. Happy. Single. But there were too many black shirts and gray pants to say anything other than I was depressed and boring.

  I pushed them aside until I found what I was looking for. It was a dress Theia Productions had wanted me to wear to one of their premieres. At the time, I refused. It was too short. The gold sequins were too gaudy. But for tonight?

  It was perfect.

  I threw on the dress then found the shoes to match it buried beneath a pile of boots. I slipped them on and tried not to fall as I stumbled over to one of the only two mirrors in the entire condo. It was safer that way. When we had returned from our first filming session in Kansas, I had refused to go inside unless every mirror was taken out. It wasn't until Elliot asked me how I was going to get ready in the morning without one that I relented. Even then, I would approach it with caution.

  I was all too aware of the dangers a single piece of glass posed for me. The abilities of the Sibyl are connected to mirrors. Scrying was the technical term since I had to use glass to connect to spirits in the Underworld. Cyrus was still working with me. Still teaching me how to protect myself from being possessed or attacked. In fact, he had insisted I not look into any mirror save the golden monstrosity passed down from Sibyl to Sibyl as a precaution. But I was stubborn. So much so, I had him keep Apollo's mirror in his room. I didn't want it anywhere near me.

  I sat down in front of my bathroom mirror with my eyes shut, whispering a quick prayer to my patron god to keep the spirits at bay. I envisioned the door I used to keep them out. It was simple, really. Then again, most magic is based on belief. I didn't need fancy candles or bags of herbs to do what I had to do.

  I had me and it was enough.

  When I felt it was safe, I opened my eyes to see that my door was there. As it faded, I could see the toll my voluntary seclusion had taken. My hair was tied up in a top knot with little frizzled pieces sticking out around my face. My skin was splotchy from the wine. It would take a miracle to get myself put together enough to go out among the Hollywood crowd tonight. For a moment, I reconsidered my decision. I wasn't a party girl. I hated the loud music and the crowds and the inevitable hook ups witnessed in the dark corners of such places. But Cyrus was right. I had to do something. I couldn't sit here to just waste away.

  I squared my shoulders and pulled out every beauty tool forced upon me by the makeup gurus at Theia Productions. If I was going to perform a miracle, I had to get started.

  ***

  I slipped out of my room forty-five minutes later to see Cyrus lounging on the couch, scrolling through his ever present cell phone. He had kept it simple with a black t-shirt and matching slacks. When he failed to look up as I entered the room, I cleared my throat to get his attention.

  "Well?" I spun around and almost twisted my ankle in the process. I'd like to think I recovered nicely because he made no mention of my stumble as he looked me over. "What do you think?"

  "Your dress is too short." Cyrus tucked his phone in his pocket as he stood. "Are you sure you want to wear those shoes? You are going to break you neck."

  "I can't break my neck. I'm immortal." I smirked as I pulled out my own cell phone from my clutch. "And you're just jealous because you don't look this good. Goth is not really your style, Stick."

  "Stick?"

  My keeper looked confused as I laughed.

  "Yeah, Stick. As in stick in the mud. If you're going to live in the modern world, you have got to modernize your way of thinking. Right now? You sound like my dad, Cyrus."

  He must have decided to ignore my comment because his only response was to offer me his arm. "Here. Hold onto me. Immortal or no, I am not spending the night at Ceder-Sinai while you heal up if I can help it."

  I let him lead me out of the condo as I pulled up the Google app on my phone. I typed in a single phrase as we reached the elevator and waited. Within seconds, I had the answer I was looking for. "Perfect!"

  Cyrus glanced over my shoulder. "Fallen?"

  "Yeah." I pulled up the directions just as the elevator stopped to let us out in the parking garage. "According to Google, it's the place to be seen right now. There was even a B list celebrity in attendance last night."

  "B list, huh?" Cyrus raised a single eyebrow as he unlocked the car. "You're a celebrity. What list are you on?"

  "I don't think there is a letter in the alphabet low enough to label that list." I slid into the passenger seat as he joined me inside the
car. "Come on. I can't be out all night. Connor called a meeting for ten o'clock in the morning and I have to be there."

  "Does this mean your vacation is over?" Cyrus started the car, eased us backwards, and then maneuvered us into traffic. "I thought the show was on hiatus."

  "Turn at the next light." I muttered as I glanced down at my phone. "It is on hiatus from filming until next week. We're leaving for Chicago on Friday, remember? Anyway, some viewer panel thought we could use a new theme song. I get to help pick it out."

  "Fine. We'll have you back by two." Cyrus reached over to squeeze my hand. "I must say, I am proud of you."

  "For what?" I shifted in my seat before pointing at the next light. "Turn right."

  "For listening to me. For doing something other than hiding away in your room. This could be good for you, Eva."

  "Yeah, yeah." I muttered. "Just drive, will you? At the rate we're going, I'm about to change my mind."

  Cyrus chuckled as he dropped my hand. I turned my attention to the passing cars and buildings as we flew past them. My keeper was right. I should get out more often. After all, Elliot hadn't let our break up effect his nightlife or his work. He had shown up to every filming, every meeting, and every promotional event as if there was no where else he'd rather be than by my side. Yet things between us were so different than how they used to be.

  Don't get me wrong. Elliot was nice enough. But there was a coldness about him I'd never experienced before. He had started letting my attempts at conversation go flat whenever I tried to approach him. So I stopped trying just as he had done the moment things got tense between us.

  I shook away the memories of our fight to focus on giving Cyrus directions. There would be time and wine enough for those memories later.

  I was going to have fun tonight. I was going to find someway to enjoy myself.

  Even if it killed me.

  Chapter Two

  "Are you sure we're in the right place? I think your Google is wrong, Little One."

  Cyrus leaned across the steering wheel to get a better look at the club we had pulled up to. Fallen had been listed as one of the hottest new spots in L.A. for the young and famous, but it reminded me more of the seedy bars back home where the bouncers gave you a gun when they checked your I.D.

  You know. Just in case.

  "Google is never wrong." I scoffed at him for his blasphemy as I grabbed my clutch from the floorboard. "Check out that line, Cyrus. There are people dying to get in here. And they have valet."

  "He looks more like a thief in a fancy jacket to me. Are you sure this is how you want to spend your evening? We can still catch a movie."

  A big man dressed in black had appeared by my door and was reaching for the handle when I heard the unmistakable click of car door locks.

  "What in the world?" I turned to my keeper and crossed my arms over my chest as I realized what he had done. "Oh, you're just being ridiculous."

  Cyrus gave me a look of pure innocence as I glared at him. I heard the door handle jiggle as my friend responded.

  "Oh, all right. But if he steals your car, I'm going to tell the authorities that you practically gave the damn thing away."

  I slid out of the car as soon as he unlocked the door. Within moments, Cyrus bounded over to my side muttering something about punks with holes in their faces. I didn't ask him to repeat himself as I started to rethink this whole idea.

  There was a line, sure. And every person I could see was dressed to the nines. But the building itself gave me a creepy feeling I couldn't explain. Its brick facade had been painted black with no business sign in sight. I started to back away. I started to tell Cyrus to find my damn car and let's go get dinner instead. But just as I opened my mouth, I saw a familiar face with a dark haired beauty on his arm walk past the line. Elliot said something to the bouncer by the door, laughed, and disappeared inside.

  "We won't stay long, I promise."

  I marched past the people waiting in line to get inside and stopped in front of the bouncer who looked me over with a grin that told me he liked what he saw. The man said something I couldn't hear over the resounding booms coming from inside the building, but when he caught sight of Cyrus behind me, his grin fell.

  "Name?" He barked over the noise. "Make it a good one or you're out, girlie."

  "Eva McRayne." I shifted in my high heels as he wrote something on the clipboard in his hand. "I'm with Theia Productions -"

  "Yeah, yeah. Now I recognize you," The man took my I.D. then wrote something else. "My girl makes me watch you every Thursday night. Here. Sign this."

  He passed the clipboard to me, but I couldn't read it thanks to the shadows around us. "What is it?"

  "Autograph." The man grinned. "Make it out to Denise, will ya? This will keep me out of the doghouse for at least a week."

  I chuckled as I signed my name then passed it back. "Here."

  "Anything we need to know about this place?"

  Cyrus called out from his post behind me, ever the vigilant bodyguard. The bouncer tucked the note into his pocket and nodded.

  "Yeah. The mixed drinks are shit. Stick with the shots."

  "Any mirrors?"

  "Really keeping it in character, eh?" The man tapped his pen against his board. "Behind the bar. Keep to the booths and you'll be fine."

  "Thanks." I managed as he turned back to the others in line. I was slipping my I.D. back into my purse when I realized he had stuck a small note on the back of it with his name and number on it.

  "You alright?"

  Cyrus held the door open for me as we entered the club. I nodded as I passed the note to him.

  "Yeah. Our new friend wants you to call him. Thinks you're cute."

  I laughed at my keeper's blank expression as he crumpled the paper in his hand. Tonight just might be fun after all.

  ***

  Two hours and too many shots later, I decided Fallen wasn't fun. It was a nightmare. Sure, the drinks were great, but the music was too loud and the place was too dark. Not to mention Cyrus. He kept fading in and out with the shadows as he typed on his phone. I knew who he was talking to. His phone was his connection to Apollo, the patron god and creator of the Sibyl. So I figured it was important enough to ask about.

  "Are you tattling on me?" I leaned across a table scarred with knife marks. "You've been on that damned thing all night."

  Cyrus glanced up at me before shaking his head. I knew that look. It said something was up and he'd tell me later. Either that or he really wasn't in the mood for a yelling match conversation over bass so loud, it vibrated the table beneath my arms. I started to tell him that I'd had too much to drink and I was ready to go when I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder.

  "You couldn't look more miserable if you tried, Evie." Elliot leaned in to speak into my ear. "Is it the place or the shoes?"

  "Both." I offered him a small smile. "You don't look too great yourself, Elliot. Not your scene?"

  "Not tonight." He slid into the booth next to me. "Where's your keeper?"

  I didn't miss the sneer in Elliot's voice. There was no love lost between him and Cyrus, but I was surprised by his comment. I glanced over to the booth across from us to find it empty.

  "He was here a minute ago." I shrugged. "Must have gotten a call on his Apollo phone."

  "His what?"

  "Nothing." I shifted to face Elliot as he threw his arm across the back of my seat. Even here in the shadows, I could see the flush in his cheeks. Elliot was drunk.

  Very drunk.

  "Where's your date?" I managed as he reached out to play with my hair. "I thought I saw a girl with you earlier."

  "You did. She's around here somewhere." Elliot shrugged. "Allison took off upstairs with some friends of hers. I saw you over here and wanted to say hello."

  "Because you wanted to or because you're drunk?" I caught his hand and freed it from my hair. "Don't get me wrong, Eli. I've wanted to talk to you for awhile. But now is the worst -"

  He cut
me off when he kissed me. I couldn't tell if it was all the shots I'd had or all the weeks of missing him, but my judgment was clouded. I responded with a passion that surprised me. Elliot broke away from me after what felt like forever, rubbing his nose against my ear.

  "I've missed you, Eva."

  Elliot started to kiss me again, but I remembered our fight. I remembered how betrayed I'd felt when I found out his father had set it up so that I would become the Sibyl, then kept that knowledge from me until we finished the first episode of Grave Messages. Most of all, I was reminded of how hurt I'd been since Elliot let me walk out the door, only to replace me within a matter of weeks.

  "Stop." I placed my hands on each side of his jaw to hold him still. "Elliot, you are really close to becoming a very bad idea."

  "Come on, Eva. Tell me you don't miss me too." Elliot turned his head just enough to kiss the inside of my wrist as he grabbed my hand. "You can't tell me you don't feel anything right now."

  "You're right, I feel a lot of things," I freed myself from him. "But most of all? I feel drunk. Go. Find your date. We can talk about this when we're sober."

  Elliot seemed to be studying me because he didn't try to argue. Finally, he nodded.

  "Alright. Lunch. Tomorrow."

  "Deal." I pushed him away from me. "But you're taking me somewhere expensive."

  "There you are!"

  We both looked up to see a slender woman wearing sunglasses standing behind Elliot. She blended into the shadows of the club so well I had a hard time seeing her. Elliot slipped out of the booth to stand next to her with a grin I knew all to well. He wasn't happy with the interruption, but he was happy with not getting caught making out with his ex.

  "Allison, meet Eva. We work on the show together."

  "Don't be silly, Elliot. Everybody knows that." Our uninvited guest leaned over the table until we were almost touching noses. "Evelyn, is it? I'm surprised. You look much so much taller on television."

  "Just Eva." I shouted back with a smile as I leaned away from her. "I must say, I'm surprised too. You look so much thinner in the tabloids. It's amazing what Photoshop can do these days, huh?"

 

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