Oracle Haunting (The Phoenix Files Book 4)

by Morgan Kelley

  As Luke was placed on the couch, Maura glanced over at him. She began crying.

  They all stared at her.

  “Oh, Lucas, I’m so damn sorry,” she whispered, as Roxy worked on her arm.

  He turned his head. “I hurt you, Maura. God! I could see myself doing it, but I didn’t have control.”

  Lucian knew how they felt. He’d hurt Bishop too.

  Avalon didn’t move.

  “They want to be free. We have to figure out what’s going on, and they’ll move on.”

  Well, that was fucking dandy.

  If they didn’t die first.

  Nate crouched in front of Luke. “What happened?” he asked, holding the towel to his head.

  “I wanted wine. I headed downstairs, and I started looking at all the bottles.”

  “We had just talked about the bodies in the wine cellar,” Roxy stated.

  Luke was confused.

  They told him about Sir Lawrence Keane’s killing of his staff and leaving them down there.

  “Jesus. I need an aspirin.”

  Bishop handed them each a few and some water.

  “I could see myself raping Maura,” he said, struggling to get the words out. Tears began slipping from behind his lashes. He couldn’t even look at her.

  “I could hear what I was saying to her.”

  “What did you say?” Nate asked, holding his friend’s hand in support. This had to be hard on him.

  He couldn’t imagine doing that to Avalon.

  “The way to a man’s heart is to keep his belly full, and his balls empty,” he said, trying not to break down. He’d never say anything like that to his wife.

  Never.

  He could only hope she’d forgive him.

  Maura was done being bandaged up, and she moved closer to her husband.

  He turned his head. “I would never hurt you like that, Maura. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

  She curled into his body, giving him the reassurance that she wasn’t mad.

  “I would never hate you. I know that wasn’t you. I could tell by your eyes. They were off.”

  He pulled her mouth gently to his and tentatively gave her a kiss. When she didn’t pull away, he wanted to weep.

  “I love you.”

  She knew he did.

  “Is that all he said?” Nate asked.

  Maura shook her head.

  “I told her, something along the lines that I put my seed in her, and her daughter was mine. Someone named Polly.”

  Lucian, Maura, and Avalon had read that name earlier.

  “Who is Polly?” Jagger asked.

  “That was Maribel’s illegitimate child with Lawrence,” Avalon stated. “I’m a little creeped out that he wanted her. I hope not as in wanting—wanting.”

  Yeah, they did too.

  “Maybe he wanted to perpetuate the killing?” Bishop asked. “He was making another him.”

  That made sense.

  It was disgusting, but it gave them a little more insight into what they were working against.

  They had a killer.

  A witch.

  And some taboo relationship.

  It was all too weird.

  Avalon couldn’t help but feel off about that, but she didn’t know why. She’d ask the spirits later.

  Roxy worked on the cut on Luke’s head. “This is going to hurt. I have to stitch you closed.”

  “Just do it. God! Nothing can hurt more than the knowledge of what I did to Maura,” he said, touching the bruises on her throat. “I hurt you, baby. God! I hurt you.”

  She kissed him softly. “I’m okay. We’re okay,” she said, lying. Maura was rattled to her core.

  Luke stared into her eyes as Roxy threw the first stitch into his flesh. He didn’t even flinch.

  “I love you, Maura.”

  She gave him the words back. “I love you, Lucas.”

  And she did.

  Only, she was afraid.

  He ran his fingers over her bandaged arm. “I can’t believe I did this to you. I couldn’t fight it.”

  Lucian got it.

  “I couldn’t either.”

  Roxy tied off the last knot. “You’re good. You’ll have a scar, but it’ll heal well enough.”

  He thanked her.

  “Can you help me get Luke up to bed?” Maura asked. “We need to crash.”

  Jagger dropped the man’s arm over his shoulder and hefted his weight. Maura followed them, making sure that Jagger didn’t drop her husband.

  When Luke was placed in bed, Jagger pulled her outside the door.

  “Are you really okay?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  With Jagger, he knew her best. She couldn’t lie to him, so she went with the truth.

  “I had to hit him, Jagger. I had to put my hands on my husband to save my life.”

  He hugged her.

  Maura didn’t break ever, but if there was one way to take her down, it was through Luke.

  He let her cry.

  “It’s okay, honey.”

  “Just be careful,” she whispered. “Lucian lost it during sex, and so did Luke. Be careful.”

  He got it.

  His dick was going NOWHERE near Roxy. Not until they could get the hell out of that house.

  He wouldn’t risk her.

  “Try and get some rest,” Jagger offered, wiping her eyes for her. “He needs you to be okay.”

  She was aware.

  “I’m good,” she said, rolling her shoulder. Her arm hurt like a bitch, but she’d live.

  Luke was safe.

  That’s all that mattered.

  “Jagger,” she said, looking over at him.

  “Yeah?”

  She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for being part of my family. I love you.”

  He patted her cheek. “Major, it’s my pleasure. Go rest.”

  She headed in.

  Once inside their room, she found Luke in bed. The second he saw her, the tears came.

  He broke down.

  Maura knew she couldn’t mourn what had happened. She could only help him. Later, she’d privately weep over all of this.

  “Baby,” he whispered.

  Maura climbed across the bed and joined him.

  “It’s okay, Lucas,” she whispered.

  He hoped so.

  With each other, they could be real.

  They’d come close, and that was scary.

  Way too scary for either of them.

  * * * O R A C L E * * *

  The Bog

  He couldn’t believe this was happening.

  The woman he had just told he knew was the ‘one’ had just been sabotaged by some jealous little girl.

  Laird was waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

  Brianna stood, and began moping the wine from her lap. She was flushed with embarrassment. “I’ll be back,” she said, slipping out of the booth.

  He sat, ready to lose his temper.

  “Jenny!”

  She smiled. “My bad.”

  Sean came rushing over. “What happened?” he asked, seeing the mess.

  “Your sister doused my date in wine, and then laughed about it,” he said.

  Sean pointed at her. “Go do the right thing! If you don’t apologize, I’ll tell our father what you’ve done, you mean little girl!”

  She rolled her eyes and headed toward the ladies’ room. Oh, she’d make it right.

  For her.

  Inside, she found Brianna drying her jeans with a hand dryer.

  “Need help?” Jenny asked.

  “No, I’m good.”

  “You’re not good enough for him,” she said.

  Brianna was trapped. What wouldn’t she give to escape all of this?

  When a woman tried to use the bathroom, Jenny pointed.

  “OCCUPIED!”

  Brianna wished he’d save her, but she didn’t reach for him. She couldn’t.

  This was mortifying.<
br />
  Jenny continued, “You’re nothing more than some American who will roll out of his life. Why don’t you have the decency to go home? We don’t want you here, and he should be with people who get him. Not you.”

  Brianna stared down at her stained jeans.

  “You’re very mean.”

  She laughed. “You’re very naïve. If you think I’ll stop, I won’t. He’s going to be mine. I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember. You’ll move on, teacher, and he’ll be mine. Go home because you don’t have what it takes to be with him. He’ll just cheat on you anyway. You’re a prudish little twit.”

  Brianna went to move past her.

  “Or I can beat your pretty face in, drag you out there, and really show you how we do it here in Adare. How embarrassing for him, no?”

  Brianna had enough.

  She wasn’t a mean person.

  She headed out, walked through the bar, and found a cab outside waiting for a fare.

  “The bed and breakfast,” she whispered, handing him money she’d stashed in her pocket just in case. While she felt bad about leaving him there, Brianna couldn’t do it.

  She’d spent most of her life trying to hide, and she couldn’t face this down. She was right.

  She wasn’t good enough for him. That was the theme in her past.

  As the cab pulled out, Brianna looked back. She was too humiliated to go back in there and see him. She was too embarrassed that she was a chicken.

  She wasn’t a fighter.

  Jenny had been right. She was just some teacher who could barely handle her anxiety.

  She slid down in the seat, and she did the only thing she could.

  She cried.

  When Jenny came out, she was smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Immediately, that put both men on guard.

  Jenny was wicked.

  “Where is she?”

  “Oh, your pretty little school teacher? She took off after I offered to help her.”

  Laird wanted to be angry.

  No, he was angry.

  In his head, he reached for her, but he hit a wall. She’d shut him out.

  Jaysus!

  How did this go so bad?

  “What did you do to her?” he asked. “What did you say?”

  She smiled. “I just told her the truth. She’ll be packing her shit and heading back to the US before the night is out. Oh well. There’s nothing worse than being saddled with a fake Irish lass when you can have the real thing. So, when’s our date?”

  He glared at her. “When hell freezes over,” he said, his accent going deep.

  Even Sean was appalled.

  “Oh please, she’s some tourist. She’s not from here, and she won’t get it. It’s time he moved on.”

  Laird was horrified.

  “I’ll never be back in here,” he said. “Jenny, you’ve crossed a line.”

  “You’ll be mine. I know you will. I have a feeling you’ll be back. Forget about her.”

  “You’re nothing but a child, Jenny. I wouldn’t commit myself to you because of that, and that you’re quite possibly the ugliest human being inside I’ve ever met, and I’m Garda. That’s saying a lot.”

  She slapped him.

  Sean grabbed his sister and pulled her back toward the kitchen.

  Laird grabbed his jacket and headed out. Once in the cool air, he reached for her again, and this time, he could hear her.

  It broke his heart.

  ‘Brianna, where are you?’

  All he heard was weeping.

  ‘Please tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.’

  ‘I’m leaving in the morning,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t do this. She’s right. I have to go.’

  That was what he was afraid of, and it was coming true. Jenny had screwed him over big time.

  ‘Please don’t leave me, Brianna. We’re in this together. We have to find this killer. He’s coming tonight,’ he said, straddling his bike.

  ‘I need to be alone.’

  ‘Just promise you won’t leave, Brianna. I just found you. Please…’

  She said nothing.

  ‘I’m sorry, Laird,’ she finally offered.

  What could he do?

  Tomorrow, before dawn, he’d find her. He’d make her stay, if he had to beg. Hopefully, she’d calm down. He didn’t blame her for being embarrassed, but this was on him.

  He hadn’t protected her.

  ‘If you need me, Brianna, find me. I’ll protect you better than I did tonight. I made a mistake. I meant what I said. If you leave, you’ll break me.’

  She didn’t reply.

  She didn’t have to.

  Fate had spoken, and it wasn’t the answer he wanted.

  The sky opened up, and the heavens poured on him.

  Laird got it.

  His luck sucked.

  * * * O R A C L E * * *

  Two Hours

  Later

  It was time.

  The next one was chosen, and that woman would be the offering for the night.

  Under the cover of darkness, she would forfeit her life to Carman. She’d be the willing donor for the evening’s festivities.

  She was a regular around town.

  She’d come and go, doing anything she pleased.

  Well, she’d been marked.

  Carman would appreciate her heart, and it was likely the only thing on her that wasn’t decayed.

  So, in the darkness, she was spotted.

  And then led to the alley.

  Before she could scream, her neck was broken, and the deed was done.

  A few stabs.

  A slice across the throat.

  And the heart was removed from her chest. It was warm, it quivered, and it held power.

  Oh, it was a good time to be alive in Ireland.

  And to be a witch.

  * * * O R A C L E * * *

  Wednesday

  One AM

  It took her forever to sleep. All the while, he kept calling to her in her mind. Laird wanted to make her feel better, but she was humiliated.

  Nothing was going to help her forget that. She’d put so much hope in that date. She had been ready to tell him she’d known, too, but that horrible girl…

  She had to let it go.

  They had a psychic connection, and that was all it could be. Maybe he would be better off without her.

  What did she have to offer?

  She was just some mousy school teacher, and he was far too handsome for her.

  She ran from the States because she was awkward with men, people, and social settings. Coming to Ireland, she should have known better.

  When he found her on the street, she shouldn’t have flirted, but instead run.

  Only, he felt safe.

  With the voices, fears, and insecurities, he felt like someone she could trust. God knew her other choices in men had been lacking—or should she say her parents’ choices in men.

  God!

  She was so sick of being afraid.

  So, as she climbed into bed, she blocked him out, knowing it would destroy any chance she’d have with him. Maybe that’s why she did it.

  She needed to think.

  Falling asleep had been hard, but once there, she was at peace.

  Until it began.

  There were the flashes of an alley.

  The snapping of bones.

  The screaming of pain.

  Blood.

  Brianna was scared, and she could smell the blood all around her.

  It woke her from sleep, and she sat up with a start, clutching her own body to try to stay away the shivers.

  As it played out in her head, she silently watched, trying to learn everything she could.

  She’d tell Oracle.

  She’d help them.

  Then she’d go.

  That’s when it got weird.

  The male voice hissed at her, calling her name. It talked about her like she was going to be on an altar, sacrificed.


  HOW?

  How did it know she was watching it play out?

  Her heart began pounding.

  She was scared.

  There was a touch to her mind.

  “Oracle,” she whispered, when she realized who it was.

  ‘You have to get out of there,’ came Avalon’s reply. ‘You’re not safe. Go to Laird!’

  ‘I can’t go to him!’

  ‘You have to go! You’re going to die!’

  That was all she had to hear.

  Brianna pulled on the dress she’d laid out for the following morning. She tugged on her shoes, and she raced down the stairs of the inn.

  In the darkness, she raced from the porch out into the pouring rain. Brianna didn’t look back.

  She headed down the street, trying to find his home. When she opened her mind, she reached for him.

  ‘Bri!’

  ‘It’s after me! God! I can feel it trying to touch me!’ she shouted into her mind.

  ‘Come to me!’ he said. ‘I’m coming!’

  She raced through the streets, something sinister and unseen behind her. She could hear the fear racing through her own body, begging her to hurry.

  As she raced around the corner, someone grabbed her.

  She screamed, and fought to be free.

  “BRI!”

  The second she heard his voice, she calmed. “It’s after me, Laird! I can feel it!”

  He could too.

  The detective was back in her mind, and what he saw terrified him. As they stood in the rain, he wrapped his arms around her, protecting her.

  He didn’t see anyone.

  “Oh, God! I’m so afraid,” she whispered, clinging to him. They were getting soaked, and she was freezing, but she finally felt safe.

  “I have you! No one will hurt you! I swear!”

  Leading her back down the street, they went into his house to get safe. As they stood there, they were soaked.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  He took her by the arms and stared into her eyes. “Don’t be sorry, Brianna. Let me help you. Let me do what I was meant to do.”

  She sniffled.

  “I don’t want to die,” she whispered over and over again.

  Laird knew what shock was, and Brianna was suffering from it. Gently, he led her across the room, and he sat with her in front of the fireplace. The whole time, he was holding her against his body.