Oracle Haunting (The Phoenix Files Book 4)

by Morgan Kelley

  Nate patted him on the shoulder. “She can. If you want to come now, you may. We have room in the car.”

  He needed tonight.

  He could see the strands of fate, hear the voices, and he needed tonight to do one last thing—claim her as his own.

  “Tomorrow.”

  Avalon slipped back into her coat.

  ‘Live tonight like it’s your last night,’ she whispered into Brianna’s mind. ‘Make it count and know that he’s a good man who wouldn’t hurt you. He’s the one.’

  Oh, she would.

  There was no doubt about that.

  Laird escorted them out and sent Brianna up to the loft to get some sleep. He was going to be a gentleman and sleep on the couch on the first floor, but first he was going to check on her.

  You know…to make sure she was safe.

  It was about being a good host.

  That was what he kept telling himself.

  When he climbed the ladder, he found her pacing back and forth.

  “You’re not going to run, are you?” he asked. “Do I need a raincoat and sneakers to chase you?”

  She looked over at him. “No, I don’t plan on running. I’m just burning off nervous energy.”

  Well, that was good to know.

  He’d rather her burn off energy than do the sprint through the killer infested streets after one in the morning.

  He liked an adventure, but not that kind.

  “Need my help?” he asked, teasing her. “We can jog in place, jumping jacks, or arm wrestling,” he offered, trying not to think about earlier on the couch.

  Her body pressed to his…

  The way she smelled and felt…

  “Yes, I do need your help.”

  He looked up, only to find her dropping the robe.

  She was naked.

  Completely and totally naked.

  He began praying.

  Then he closed his eyes.

  “That’s not the response I was hoping for,” Brianna admitted.

  “I’m trying to keep from cumming in my jeans. If I stare at you, that’s the outcome. I have never wanted anything more than you. I don’t have much control.”

  There.

  He went with honesty.

  She started laughing. Then she took a chance. Oracle said live like it was her last moments on Earth, and that he was indeed the one, and she believed it. Brianna could feel it when he was near, and she wanted to be part of him.

  Well, let the fun begin.

  She raced at him.

  He opened his eyes in time to catch her mid leap. They landed on the floor, her on top.

  He let himself feel.

  Laird, the man who always pretended, was done doing that. Life wasn’t perfect, and this situation sucked, but they had a shot. He was willing to make the gamble.

  Their mouths fused, and they rolled around, hands stroking, fingers exploring until they were both breathless.

  It was heaven.

  It was torture.

  He never wanted it to stop.

  When she began kissing down his body, goose bumps raced across his flesh.

  “Jaysus! Mary! Joseph!” he moaned, as her fingers found the button on his jeans. In his head, he began praying and saying one hell of a rosary prayer.

  Laird was rock hard beneath that zipper, and he swore if she stopped he was going to cry like a freaking baby. He was only a man.

  His body needed her.

  HE needed her.

  Brianna loved the way he responded to her. No man had ever had this much passion when they were in bed together. She couldn’t wait to take her sexy Irish protector for a ride.

  “More,” he begged, as her fingers lightly stroked his erection. He wasn’t wearing boxers beneath his jeans, and he wanted her to take him in her hand.

  “Tell me what you like,” she asked, running her finger down his erection.

  “Mouth, dick, and orgasm—always in that order. We men are simple creatures,” he muttered as the butterfly light touches made him wild with lust.

  Brianna took him in her hand, and teased the head of his dick with her mouth. When his hips nearly came off the floor, she knew he was really into it.

  She began stroking him.

  Licking him.

  Sucking him.

  He begged, pleaded, and spoke in Gaelic to her, promising her anything he had to keep going—including his heart.

  As she worked him into her mouth, running her teeth up and down his erection, she knew she’d found what made him happy.

  “Brianna, A grá,” he whispered.

  It had been so long since he’d really been into sex with a woman. He had needs, and he filled them, but with her, he didn’t worry about his needs.

  He worried about hers.

  They were creating this bond.

  ‘Am I doing this right?’ she asked into his mind.

  ‘YES! I’m going to cum!’ he replied back, not even thinking about communicating with her that way.

  It was natural now.

  It was second nature.

  It was perfect.

  The static in his head went silent, and it was only Brianna he was focused on.

  His hips bucked, and he slid all the way down her throat. It was all it took. He came with such force, his body shook.

  She swallowed him, and then gently crawled up his body to straddle his hips.

  She was staring down at him.

  When he opened his eyes, she smiled the smile that was like a million angels singing. “I think the Earth just moved,” he said, pretty sure it had.

  “It’s always moving,” she admitted. “We rotate at a constant speed,” she began. “If it stops moving, we have a gravitational emergency.”

  He started laughing. “I love that about you.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re unfettered with your knowledge, my love. You just say what’s in your heart and on your mind.”

  “Well, I’m thinking about sex.”

  “Well, so am I,” he teased.

  Then her face went serious. Her eyes closed, and a tear dropped onto his chest.

  “Bri?” he asked, sitting up.

  She went against his body and began sobbing.

  “Oh, honey, what?” he asked.

  “I don’t want them to come here and make me leave, and I don’t want to die. Why couldn’t I have met you a year ago?” she asked. “I would have had time. It’s going to be too late to change it.”

  “Oh, A grá, don’t cry,” he whispered. “We weren’t meant to meet then. This is our time. This is our now. Maybe one of us wouldn’t have been in the right place here,” he said, touching her head. “We can’t begrudge fate. We can only work with what we’ve been given.”

  She wiped her eyes. “There’s so much I’ll miss. I won’t be a mother, or get married. I won’t grow old or have someone to be old with. Those dreams were wasted on a woman who has no future,” she whispered.

  His heart ached. “Go home with them. I’ll find you again one day, Brianna. I’ll come searching for you. When this is over, I’ll track you down. Give me your address in America, and I’ll find you. I’ll give you that dream.”

  She couldn’t risk it.

  If she left, what if he didn’t come?

  She’d spend her life wondering.

  NO.

  Brianna didn’t want to wonder. She wanted to live.

  Gently, and with so much love, she touched his cheek. “No, Laird. I’d rather two more days with you than a year without you. I’m going to stay. I belong with you, even if it’s only a couple more days.”

  He wiped her eyes.

  “Then let me give you something to hold in your heart,” he said, picking her up from the floor to carry her to his bed. When they tumbled into it, he tugged off his jeans so he could be skin to skin with her.

  “I love you, Brianna Collins,” he said, staring down into her eyes. “I don’t know how it happened so fast, but it’s true.”


  She knew.

  The second they met, their souls reconnected.

  “I love you, too, Laird Maguire.”

  That was all he was waiting for from her. Then he filled her.

  She moaned his name, her body arching into his.

  Laird began moving.

  The strokes were long, deep, and filled her. He was in her body, bare, and he didn’t care.

  That’s how he knew she was the one. For a Catholic who didn’t believe in birth control and used it so many times before, he didn’t want to with her.

  He wanted to make all her dreams come true.

  The idea that maybe, just maybe, he’d keep her alive, make her his, and give them a future gave him hope. He wanted to make her a mother, a wife, and fulfill everything she wanted.

  He wanted to watch her happiness rather than be happy.

  If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.

  Her legs went around his waist, and he continued the pace, driving her up to the crest, and right to the edge. When he slid deeper, kissing parts of her that he never wanted anyone else to ever experience, she tumbled off the edge.

  She came with his name on her lips.

  Laird watched her tumble, and he rolled placing her back on top. He wanted to watch her above him, riding him.

  She opened her brilliant aqua eyes and understood.

  Them.

  One.

  Together.

  She began riding, his hands at her hips. He took in the marvel that was her body. The full, ripe breasts, the slender column of her neck, and the way her breath caught in her chest with each slide down his erection.

  He knew.

  Without a shadow of a doubt, she was meant to be his wife.

  “Marry me.”

  She stopped moving.

  “Laird.”

  “I’m not doing it for any other reason than I can’t stand the idea of anyone doing this with the woman who is mine. You’re meant to be mine, Brianna. When the sun comes up, before I have to go to work and stand over another dead body, marry me. Be my wife, A grá. Be mine.”

  She stared down at him.

  He didn’t pressure her.

  He didn’t try to order her around.

  It was her choice.

  “Yes, Laird. Let’s get married. I want to be your wife,” and she did. IF only for two more days, it was still more than she ever thought she’d find. He found her and filled her.

  Laird throbbed within her body. “Finish us off, Brianna, my Celtic Goddess. Take us to the end, and I’ll follow you there and wherever you may roam.”

  The Irish in his voice brought tears to her eyes.

  Here was her adventure.

  Him.

  She began riding him again, and they both were breathless. She wanted this one fall to matter more than anything in either of their lives.

  And it would.

  He pulled her down, impaling her body with his, driving his hips up, and filling her with his need. As she began to shake, he was with her.

  His hands found hers.

  Their eyes met, and they let the tide roll through them. She came, and he followed her like he promised.

  Together, they fell into bed, cuddled, and stayed that way.

  “Did you really mean it?” she asked, out of the silence.

  “About marrying you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve never had unprotected sex with anyone in my life. If I didn’t want you as mine, I wouldn’t have just gotten you pregnant.”

  She lifted her head.

  “What?”

  “We all have our gifts, A grá. I know you’re going to have my child. She’ll be beautiful like you, and she’ll have our eyes and our gift. We just created a miracle. Listen to the voices in the static.”

  She did.

  Sure enough, it was there. He wasn’t making it up. Those whispers changed everything.

  She had to live.

  “You will,” he said, tucking her against his body.

  She cuddled into him, her mind racing a million miles a minute.

  “You’ll be an amazing mother to our child,” he promised, playing with a red curl.

  She believed him.

  “Thank you for tonight,” she whispered, leaving kisses across his large chest. “I’ll love you forever.”

  “I know,” he said, reading her mind.

  And he did.

  Because in that moment, she’d live, and he’d make the sacrifice to save her. Brianna wouldn’t die.

  He would.

  Fate had changed.

  It was coming for him instead.

  He could feel it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cork, Ireland

  H e didn’t see the lure of the Emerald Isle. In fact, the place irritated the hell out of him. Having to leave Ravenswood to drag his granddaughter back home was a pain in his ass. She should know better.

  Silas didn’t like messing around.

  The only reason he wasn’t furious was because he knew Roxanne had lived a horrible childhood. Her father, that scumbag, had molested her. That had to have skewed her ability to see a man for his worth.

  That’s the ONLY way to explain what she saw in Jagger Armstrong.

  Yes, Silas did his research on the man.

  He was, indeed, the son of Michael O’Banion. The dead mob boss was long gone, but he’d left his legacy behind. Silas wanted him handled, but few would take a shot at Jagger.

  They were scared.

  Why?

  He didn’t know.

  Well, he wasn’t going to worry about it. He’d put the word out that Jagger Armstrong was worth some money if he was dead. Silas knew how to handle men who didn’t know their place.

  Roxy’s father had been executed after a rather painful death. When they dropped his sick, vile body into that hole in the desert, no one missed him.

  Well, except his daughter.

  She’d taken her own life out of sorrow.

  She’d been controlled too. It had to be her husband’s doing. Well, he wasn’t letting his granddaughter go down that road. As her last family alive, he had to make a choice.

  The Irish mob in Boston was more than happy to know the man’s real name. While the papers and news said the Marine had died in a fire, he knew the truth.

  Was he betraying Roxy?

  Yes.

  Was it for her own good?

  Absolutely.

  His great-grandbaby wasn’t going to be on the lam, living out of a suitcase, and in danger. So, he was going to handle it.

  As he walked into the pub, cane in hand, he saw the man he was looking for in the shadowy booth.

  He took a seat.

  “You have the money?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do. Again, he’s not my concern. I want her taken, loaded onto that jet, and brought back to the US.”

  “What if she fights?”

  Silas leaned forward. “My granddaughter had better not have a scratch on her, or the baby she carries. If she does, Hell will have no mercy on you. While I can hire you to handle this, I can hire ten more men to handle you. Do the job, do it right, and make sure she’s safe. That’s my damn priority.”

  “And if she’s not alone?”

  He thought about it.

  “She’s with her best friend.”

  Silas pulled out his phone and showed the man the picture of Roxy and Bishop he had on his screen saver.

  “This is Bishop Monroe. If she gets in the way…”

  “Kill her?” he asked.

  Silas was appalled.

  “NO! You’re not to kill her either. If she gets in the way, take her with Roxanne. I can keep them both hidden. She’s trouble, but she’s my other family.”

  The man made a mental note of the woman’s face.

  “And if you put your hands, or dick, on either of them, I’ll take your fingers and lower brain. I suggest you think with your upper one.”

  The man smile
d. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m a transporter. I don’t use the goods. If you want them back in the US, I’ll get them there.”

  Silas did.

  “I’ll be at the hotel. When you get them, I’ll meet you at the jet. Remember, I don’t give a shit about the man. For all I care, run him over. The two women? They matter. Don’t fuck this up!”

  Silas pushed the envelope across the table.

  The man looked inside, and was pleased.

  “That’s half. When I see Roxanne on that jet, you get the other half. Clear?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Then he was gone.

  Silas lifted a finger and a barmaid headed his way. “Whiskey,” he said. “Triple.”

  The woman headed off.

  And Silas had to swallow what he’d just done.

  Hopefully, his granddaughter would forgive him.

  One day.

  * * * O R A C L E * * *

  Graymoor

  Wednesday

  It had been a long night for Avalon. She’d been up pacing the house, doing her thing. That meant it was also a long night for Nate, who refused to leave her side.

  What he wanted was to be cuddled up and making love to his new wife.

  What was happening was the exact opposite.

  When she stopped, midway through her worrying, he had to ask.

  “What?”

  “Oh, that’s not good!”

  Nate wasn’t even the least bit psychic. He couldn’t even pretend to understand what was going on in Avalon’s mind. In fact, he really didn’t want to know most of the time.

  She was scary and a force to reckon with on a good day. Today? Yeah, he could only imagine.

  This time, he had to ask.

  “What?” he offered again.

  “He’s altered fate,” she said, facing her husband. “He’s changed the course.”

  Nate smiled. “Well, that’s good, right?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Now I have to backtrack and figure out a way to save him before it’s too late.”

  “What did he do?” Nate asked.

  “She’s having a baby. They’ve just created a life, and he’s going to die for her.”