Oracle Haunting (The Phoenix Files Book 4)

by Morgan Kelley

  But protection wise…?

  It wasn’t easy.

  Everyone noticed she was struggling. Luke, her husband, could sense it in her actions, and he was helpless to assist her with it. Maura was the perpetual mother hen, and she felt like the chicks were wearing bull’s-eyes.

  It made her edgy.

  She’d been tasked to keep them safe, and she was trying. She clucked over Avalon. She worried about her husband day in and day out.

  And it got worse…

  One chick wasn’t in the roost. Maura was missing one soldier from her group, and it was making her edgier than hell.

  Jagger.

  He’d gone off and got hitched, was having a baby with Roxy, and she was stressed the entire time he was away. Avalon had managed to save him on their last case by some wicked luck, but that weighed on her.

  Was it a fluke?

  Was his life still on the line?

  Maura was worried that something would happen. While he wasn’t there, she had to think about all the what ifs, and that stressed her out.

  As a control freak, she liked all her ducks in a row, and her Marine partner duck was MIA.

  They were definitely NOT in a row.

  When Jagger arrived, IF he arrived, she’d feel better about everything. Then she could go back to planning their safety. Any unknown elements were never a good thing.

  She needed to control freak the entire process to be calm. She was crazy, and she knew it.

  Maura’s frenetic fretting was the only thing stressing them out. All in all, the team, or family as they’d become, was settling in fine.

  Thanks to Lucian, they had a safe place to hide.

  They owed him big time.

  Still, this day was off to an odd start. The energy seemed to be…humming.

  On that morning, the calm didn’t seem to be there, and that was unsettling. Normally, wherever Avalon and Lucian were, there was a sense of ease.

  Today, not so much.

  Lucian was there, and he seemed just as agitated.

  They gave off those vibes when they were together. It was something about their gifts feeding off each other, balance, yin and yang, or whatever they called it.

  Without one, the other was off kilter.

  It was a marriage of sorts.

  While couples were common, couples not in a relationship were the oddity. To say they were close would be an understatement. There was a part of the tapestry of their lives that had been woven together.

  They fit.

  They were a match.

  They weren’t a couple.

  Why?

  That question made Nate nervous, and it was another reason why he desperately wanted to get Avalon to the altar. While it wouldn’t be legal, since their documents were all fake, it still mattered to him.

  He wanted a wife.

  He wanted her.

  So, as they sat at the table in the large kitchen, there was silence.

  Uncomfortable silence.

  “Will someone talk?” Maura finally asked. “I feel like someone threw a ton of concrete all over us and I’m sinking in it,” she said honestly.

  Luke felt it too.

  He’d been experiencing that sensation since he awoken that morning. It probably didn’t help that Maura had been up and pacing their room with a vengeance.

  That was always a bad way to wake.

  Now the stagnation of energy was suffocating him to the point he wanted to burn it off with some crazy adrenaline junkie activity.

  He’d been thinking of climbing the house…literally. Since it was made of rock, why not?

  He couldn’t help himself.

  “I feel off,” he said, agreeing with his wife. “I feel like I need to do something. I’m itching to do anything.”

  “I want to hurt someone—like as in a fist fight,” Bishop admitted. “I feel out of control.”

  There.

  Bishop said it.

  No one disagreed with her.

  So, she continued, “My gut…it’s riled up. I can’t put my finger on it, but something wicked this way comes.”

  Yeah, they got it.

  While Bishop wasn’t a full-blown psychic, she did have extremely good luck. That was based on her gut instinct. While all cops needed it, not all were blessed with it.

  She’d been gifted by her Irish father.

  Maybe being there was setting something off in her.

  Who knew?

  Lucian picked up her hand and rested his lips across her knuckles. He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch, since no one in their ‘family’ seemed to pay his missing eye any attention.

  They were all comfortable around each other, and that helped him not to focus on his disfiguration.

  It was nice.

  Lucian wanted to calm their nerves—like he’d seen Avalon do so many times before.

  “It’ll be fine,” he offered. “The energy shifted this morning.”

  They all looked over at him.

  “What does that mean?” Nate asked, sipping his coffee. When he’d left his bed, Avalon was sound asleep.

  “Something is out there,” he admitted. “It’s calling to her for help.”

  They didn’t get it.

  “A person?” Nate asked. “A case?”

  He shifted in his chair. His whole body moved like a ripple on a pond. It was calling to him too.

  “Lucian, are you okay?” Bishop asked.

  He owed them the truth.

  It might help them.

  “In Ireland, it’s incredibly difficult to be here,” Lucian admitted. “There are so many old spirits haunting the isle. Ireland is a country of deep history, wild past, and so many ghosts. From the Celts to the Druids, this country is alive. It feels like it’s a breathing, living entity.”

  They looked at him like he was cuckoo.

  Yeah, it got worse.

  He continued, “In fact, there are many spirits haunting this land—here where we sit.”

  “There’s no such thing as that bullshit,” Maura said, sipping her coffee. “You’re born, you live, you die. That’s all she wrote.”

  Lucian knew there was more than that. You couldn’t be fettered to the static and not feel that it was so multi-leveled that there had to be more.

  He believed there was.

  “Nothing is here,” Maura reassured. “I secured this place multiple times.”

  It wasn’t so much the place as the area surrounding them. Lucian could feel it non-stop.

  Luke, unlike his wife, knew that everything wasn’t so black or white. They’d seen some crazy shit.

  Why not more?

  Besides, it was hard to ignore. When you looked out the windows, the HUGE, old gnarled trees sat in the grove, and they looked eerie.

  When the wind danced across the knoll, you swore they moved along, casting their own spell.

  He didn’t want to be out there in the dark.

  The place looked spooky.

  That was saying a lot since he chased serial killers with his partner, Nathaniel Carter, all those years.

  “What kind of spirits?” Maura asked.

  Nate didn’t like that word.

  Spirits drew up all kinds of negative connotations in his mind, and they all meant Avalon was in danger.

  To him, he couldn’t risk that.

  There was no going back. They were officially dead to the United States Government.

  He had to know. “Are they the kind that want to hurt you?” Nate asked.

  An ounce of prevention was worth a ton of cure.

  For Avalon.

  For them.

  For the Phoenix Files.

  Lucian and Avalon had discussed this the previous day. They knew at some point, they were going to have to let the team in on it.

  They were too smart to be oblivious.

  It looked like he was up to bat.

  So, Lucian gave it a shot.

  “The dead here…they are different,” he admitted. “They don’t
pass easily. Once Avalon and I arrived, it stirred them up.”

  “Great. The dead. Well, I’m ready to move on,” Maura stated. “What do you have on a tropical island? The rain here sucks.”

  He laughed. “What kind of island? I have a few more Graymoors…”

  She laughed.

  Of course he did.

  “Seriously, are we in danger?” Nate asked. “I don’t like sitting like ducks about to be picked off by anything—let alone spirits.”

  Lucian knew what Avalon was working on in her head, and he knew what was coming. This was going to be a hard one. They were going to be delving into something they didn’t often see.

  The past.

  It was coming back.

  At that moment, they were so connected that Lucian could hear Avalon in his mind. He could hear her weaving, talking, and stalking their case until she knew when it was time.

  It was a delicate balance, and they both knew it.

  He knew what was coming, but he wasn’t the leader. He was simply someone who handled the static while Avalon manipulated it to get the plans. They were partners, but his gift wasn’t as controlled without hers. She was the key, he was the lock. Before her, he never thought about being psychic.

  It had been a curse.

  Now he magnified Avalon’s gift, and she tamed his. They matched, and that made them a good team.

  “We’re not in danger, so you can relax,” he offered.

  Nate calmed marginally.

  That was the best news for him.

  “Thank God. All we need is danger. What’s next?” he asked. “Warlocks and witches?”

  The house seemed to echo around them.

  They all stopped moving with the exception of the owner. Lucian didn’t seem to be fazed by it. It was like he was accustomed to the crazy.

  “I feel chilly,” Bishop stated.

  Lucian pulled her closer to his body and dropped his arm over her shoulder. “Old houses are drafty.”

  She picked up the slight sound of it in his voice. Lucian was keeping something from them.

  This was more than a draft.

  She didn’t think that was it.

  Lucian wasn’t being one hundred percent forthright. She knew her husband, and she could see it in his eye. He looked…haunted.

  “Tell us about Graymoor part two,” Luke asked. “I went downstairs and there is one hell of a wine cellar. There’s even wine and port there.”

  “I hope you didn’t,” he said, glancing up. “Bad things live there.”

  They all stared at him in horror.

  He began laughing.

  “Guys, I’m kidding. You all need to lighten up a little bit. The house isn’t going to eat you.”

  Bishop hit him. “We’re all on edge. Don’t be a sexy smartass.”

  He winked at her. “It’s hard, but I’ll try. They both come so damn easily for me.”

  “Yeah, along with that massive ego.”

  He kissed his wife.

  “What can you tell us about this place?” Luke asked. “It feels old, but it also feels new.”

  Yeah, there was a good reason for that.

  His parents.

  They had loved this place. It had history, and his mother was big on that.

  “Graymoor two-point-oh, Luke, has been here a long time. There was a house here before it, but it burned to the ground a couple hundred years later. A wealthy landowner took over after, and built this house. Back then, it was grand—not castle grand—but still something not seen here often. Most places in Ireland back then had thatch rooves, were one floor, and heated by wood. This house was made to be a showpiece.”

  Oh, that it was.

  The wood was carved, the tile was gorgeous, and the wealth was clear. Someone dumped a lot of time and money into the place—even back then.

  “There are stories attached to it,” Lucian offered. “My mother liked them best.”

  Luke liked a good backstory.

  Besides, he was bored.

  When they didn’t work, there was only so much you could do to keep yourself busy.

  He and Maura had a lot of sex.

  NOT that he was complaining. He just didn’t want to walk funny, so he needed other entertainment.

  “What kind of stories?” Maura asked.

  She liked to be prepared.

  “It’s going to be the stuff you scoff at. Are you sure you still want to hear it?” he asked her.

  Maura was a tough critic, which was ironic since she was tasked in protecting a powerful psychic. She did believe, but it took a lot to get her to that side.

  “Woo-woo shit doesn’t faze me, and you know it. Drop it on me, Lucian.”

  He could do that.

  “Well, Europe had its own witch trials,” Lucian stated. “It’s said that one of the eight women accused, after she escaped prison, had come to Adare to find peace. She built a home here, and she went on living her life.”

  They all listened.

  “It’s said that her persecutors tracked her down, hung her from a tree out there, and covered her in tar. Then they lit her on fire to end her life.”

  Bishop was listening, weighing each word with as much speculation and belief as she could. She liked to get the facts and weigh them on her bullshit scale.

  This one was fifty-fifty, so far.

  “That’s horrible,” Luke admitted.

  He agreed.

  “It was over three hundred years ago, but it’s said she still haunts this land. As they were lighting her on fire, she placed a curse on the house, and anyone who touched it.”

  Maura laughed. “Well, that explains your luck, Mr. Pirate,” she said.

  He laughed. “Maybe.”

  “Please continue,” Nate said. He was fascinated.

  Lucian did.

  “While this is a country of spookiness, some things, like witchcraft, weren’t tolerated long ago, and she was murdered for her beliefs.”

  That was a common theme in many parts of the world. Nothing made people more vengeful than religion.

  Christians.

  Muslims.

  Jews.

  They all went bat shit insane in the name of their Gods, and for good reason. Beliefs were the core of a person. Ireland was one of those countries that had deep rooted beliefs.

  “She suffered for what she held dear,” he said.

  “Poor thing,” Bishop said.

  She couldn’t imagine.

  Thank God the times had changed.

  Nate shook his head. This made him all uncomfortable.

  Why?

  Avalon was like a modern-day witch. Three hundred years ago, she would have likely been tried, convicted, and stoned.

  That freaked Nate out.

  “I don’t like this story at all.”

  Lucian could hear Avalon in his mind. She didn’t want him freaked out. Once Nate lost it, the whole team was usually right behind.

  What was coming…it was going to be tough.

  “She’s safe,” Lucian stated. “If anything, her gift is calling to the spirits. They won’t hurt her, and no one kills witches anymore.”

  He lifted a brow.

  “That we know of,” he stated.

  Luke laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “If they killed witches…”

  He pointed at his wife.

  She glared at him.

  “I’m going to kill your sex life.”

  He closed his mouth but winked at her. He knew Maura better than that.

  “Really,” Lucian offered. “She’s good.”

  Still, Nate was unsure.

  “Yeah, if I had a dollar for every time HER gift was a catalyst to something more, I’d be rich.”

  Lucian got it.

  He really did.

  Loving a woman who wasn’t exactly meek and safety conscious could try a man’s ego like nothing else. Look at his Bishop.

  She was tough.

  Smart.

  Badass.

  The
re were days he lost sleep over her choices. Lucian worried about her since the day she took a bullet for him, and he’d worry until his dying day.

  That was love.

  “So, we’re basically sitting on a giant pit of sorrow, pain, and hate?” Maura asked. “I mean, that would explain why I feel like crying, laughing, and then blowing something up.”

  Yeah, that would do it.

  He laughed. “Maura, what I like most about you is you don’t sugar coat it.”

  “That’s my wife. She’s straight to the point,” Luke said. “My dainty flower has a way with words,” he teased in a really bad Irish brogue.

  She punched him.

  “And she’s straight to the punch,” he muttered, rubbing his arm.

  Maura laughed.

  Nate had to know. “Is it like this when you come here all the time?”

  That was the funny part.

  He stayed away.

  “I don’t come here often. I think the last time I was here was right before my parents died. We all came, and I left feeling…”

  “What?”

  “Off.”

  That, they got.

  Maybe there was something to the legend.

  “Well, whatever it is, I hope we get a case soon,” Maura stated. “I also wish Jagger was here. I miss him.”

  They all stared at her.

  “What?” she asked. “Is there something in my teeth? Why are you all giving me that look?”

  WHY?

  Did that actually come out of Maura’s mouth? Something so sentimental, and proving she had a heart under that tough Marine exterior?

  Luke picked up his water bottle and splashed some on her.

  Maura sputtered as she took the water right to the face. “What the hell, Lucas!”

  “You sounded possessed. I was just checking to make sure you were alright.”

  She stared at him. “You’re insane. That’s not holy water.”

  He grinned. “You’re not holy. You get the regular stuff. I don’t want you to melt.”

  She didn’t know what to say.

  So, she laughed. Her husband was amusing, and she was glad he was in her life.

  Honestly, she’d be lost.

  Nate ignored the antics.

  They were normal.

  “Jagger is coming,” Nate promised. “He called me two days ago. He and Roxy are busy….”

  She stopped him. “If you say fornicating, I’ll puke. I don’t want to picture it. I said I missed him. I didn’t say I wanted to visualize him in any position but on his feet holding a gun.”