by Flynn, Mac
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Other Books
Oracle of Spirits #3 (BBW Paranormal Romance)
MAC FLYNN
Text copyright 2016 by Mac Flynn
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission in writing from the author.
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CHAPTER 1
My life, and my house-mates, were a strange bunch. Here I was part of a paranormal detective agency filled with mystics, ghost-seers, a werewolf, and a walking encyclopedia of spirit knowledge who absolutely hated me.
And here was little old me, a latent mystic who had the bad luck to catch the attention of a Phantom Whisperer and get herself dropped into this paranormal world of phantoms, spirits, poltergeists and God-knows what else. Such a life had its ups and downs. One of the downs was the change in sleep schedule. Ghosts worked at night, so we did, too.
It was one of those nights a week after our last assignment, and my first, when I shuffled out of my bedroom on the second floor of the creepy Victorian house. The hallway was dark and the house was eerily quiet. I rubbed my eye with one hand and shut my bedroom door the other while I wondered what lay in store for me this night. I turned to walk down the hall and froze.
A dark figure stood at the end of the hall just in front of the staircase.
The tempo of my heartbeat quickened. Whoever it was they were definitely not Ian or Cronus. They stood as stiff as the dead some ten yards from me. Their wardrobe was a black overcoat with black shoes and pants. The collar of the coat wrapped around their neck and covered everything but the upper half of their face. Their bare head had black hair, and their eyes were the collar of bright, living coals. My gut sense told me the rest of this thing was far from living.
I blinked and my heart stopped.
In that single moment the person had moved three yards closer to me. I still couldn't see any movement from their person. Not a single arm twitched, nor did its glowing eyes avert its gaze for even a moment. The chest didn't move up and down to breath. I stumbled back and involuntarily blinked.
The thing stood three feet from me.
I yelped and tried to scramble backwards. It finally made a move. One of its arms stretched impossibly far over those three feet. The pale fingers wrapped around my neck and lifted me a foot off the floor. I clawed at its hand as the thing shoved its pale face into mine. The close proximity gave me a better view of its face, and I saw it was a man of forty, but what a man! The face was as pale as death and his ears ended in points. The cold fingers wrapped around my neck bit at my flesh.
The blood-red eyes studied me with slow, careful interest.
"What are you?" it hissed.
"W-what?" I gasped.
His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened. "What are you?"
"Ruthven, there you are!" a familiar voice yelled. I looked over the thing's shoulder and saw Ian's head pop over the top stair. "What are you doing up here?"
The thing that held me opened his fingers and I dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Air refilled my lungs and I choked on the blessed sustenance. Ian came up to us and put a hand on the thing's shoulder.
"I see you've met the newest addition to our little group," Ian commented as he gestured down to me.
I sat up and glared at the pale stranger. "He tried to kill me!" I choked out.
Ian turned to his acquaintance and clucked his tongue. "What'd you do now?"
The red eyes glared at me. "I did nothing."
"Nothing my ass!" I snapped as I struggled to my feet. I rubbed my neck to get some feeling back to my chilled flesh. "He comes up here scaring me half to death with his ghost act and lifts me by my neck off the ground. Then he goes trying to question me about what I am and you come up."
Ian raised an eyebrow. "Why'd you ask that?"
"Because I wish to know it," Ruthven replied.
"I'm a woman, if you want to know," I growled at him.
"That is not what I asked you," Ruthven argued.
"You know, I think you two got off to the wrong start," Ian spoke up. He slid between us and gestured from one to the other. "Miss Enid Runa, this is Ruthven. Ruthven, Miss Enid-"
"I don't think a proper introduction excuses him from trying to kill me!" I protested.
Ian dropped his arms and shrugged. "I just thought I'd try. Anyway, I'm a little curious what you were doing trying to get info from her," he commented, addressing his pale acquaintance. Ruthven's eyes narrowed, but he didn't reply. Ian sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, don't tell me, but you'd better have a good reason for sneaking into my house."
"Several reasons," Ruthven told him.
Ian's eyebrow raised. "All right. Let's hear them, but downstairs."
The thing turned away and strode towards the stairs. I grabbed Ian's arm. "What the hell are you doing with this funeral parlor reject?" I hissed.
Ian turned to me with a sheepish grin. "Actually, I hired Ruthven to sniff out some clues to that Whisperer who was so fond of you," he revealed. He turned his attention to Ruthven. "I'm guessing you're here to tell me something, and not to scare the spirit out of my assistant."
Ruthven paused at the top of the stairs where I first saw him and bowed his head in our direction. "I am."
Ian grinned. "Then let's chat about this over a bottle of blood."
I froze. "A bottle of what?"
Ian nodded. "Yep. I'm sure you've noticed my friend here isn't exactly living, but he's not exactly dead, either. Since he's not rotting that can only make him a vampire."
I felt the color drain from my face and I slowly swiveled my head to stare at the pale man. "A. . .vampire?" I gulped.
"What better informant in the world of night than a night stalker?" Ian pointed out.
"I have limited time," said night stalker spoke up.
Ian shot a glare at him. "And I have limited resources, so I hope you found something good for me."
"I will let you be the judge of that," Ruthven returned.
"That's fine with me," Ian agreed as he turned to me. "You can stay up here if you want."
I snorted. "Like hell I am. I want to hear what he has to say, and did you already forget I'm your partner?"
"Assistant, but I suppose even an assistant should know what's going on," Ian agreed. "Let's go."
CHAPTER 2
Ian led the way with me close beside him and Ruthven behind us. As we made our way down the stairs I glanced over my shoulder at the undead. His red eyes were stuck on me. I glared back at him.
"Do you scare people for fun or is that just part of the job?" I quipped.
"Both," he replied.
"Figures. . ." I mumbled as I looked away from him.
We reached the parlor and Ian took his usual chair. Ruthven stood close to Ian between the chair and the doorway, and I squished myself into the far corner of the couch. That guy gave off a creepy vibe that, even if we hadn't met under such terrifying circumstances, would have left me with an uneasy feeling.
Ian lit up a cigarette and tossed the mat
ch into the crackling fire. "Shoot."
"You asked me to investigate the movements of the Whisperers, specifically in regards to this creature," Ruthven reiterated as his eyes fell on me. I glared back at him. "I found that the Whisperers are in search of women who have shown themselves to have extraordinarily keen senses to the paranormal world."
Ian raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I do not know," Ruthven replied.
"Do you know how they're finding them?" Ian asked him.
"Yes. The Whisperers have enlisted the assistance of witches to create stones that can find latent mystics." Ruthven reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a large, smooth river stone. "This is one of them."
Ian took the stone from him and turned it over in his hand. "Do you know what incantation is used to imbue the stone?"
"No, but I did find there was one witch who was approached with the task, but refused," Ruthven revealed.
"And that was who?" Ian wondered.
"Jenny."
I noticed Ian's shoulders slumped and his face fell. "Did you try talking to any of the witches who were employed by the Whisperers?"
"I attempted to speak with one, but she exploded," Ruthven replied.
I blinked at him. "Exploded? Like blew up?"
"It's not impossible," Ian spoke up as he set the stone on the end table beside him. "No doubt the Whisperers demanded the witches be bound to silence. That sort of binding magic meant that any attempt the witches made to talk about the contract kills the talker."
My mouth dropped open. "Why would anyone agree to that?"
"The Whisperers aren't lacking in money and influence," Ian commented. He returned his attention to Ruthven. "What about this Whisperer I met? Did you find out anything about him?"
"Your description did not fit any known Whisperer," Ruthven replied.
Ian frowned. "Check your sources again. That guy was definitely a Whisperer."
Ruthven's eyes narrowed and I noticed his fangs peeked out a little more from beneath his upper lip. "My sources would not lie to me."
Ian gave him a crooked smile. "Fine. Don't get your fangs in a knot. Besides, I want you to check out a hunch of mine."
"I will not work for free," Ruthven warned him.
"And I'm not asking you for a free job, but the information you brought me doesn't begin to cover what I already paid you," Ian pointed out.
"I have answered your questions," Ruthven argued.
Ian's eyes narrowed and he removed his cigarette from his mouth. "You really wanna make a fuss, or are you going to get out there and get me what I asked for?"
Ruthven pursed his pale lips, but bowed his head. "I will look into what you requested."
Ian smiled and stuck his cigarette back in his mouth. He stood and patted Ruthven on the arm. The vampire winced and snarled. "Good," Ian commented. "I need you to find out whatever information you can about something called the Dark Council."
Ruthven started and his eyes widened. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. This was the first evidence of emotion from the vampire other than disgust, and it looked like he was terrified.
"You think you can do that?" Ian asked him.
Ruthven composed himself and frowned. "You wish for me to look into a myth?"
"If that was true then I'd say you were terrified of a myth," Ian returned. He turned away and plopped back down into his chair. "Besides, I have it on good authority that it isn't a myth, so I'd like you to look into it."
"I will try," Ruthven grudgingly agreed.
"And I'll pay you for your results," Ian replied.
"Is that all you wish?" Ruthven asked him.
"Yep. I'll send a bat your way if I think of anything else," Ian assured him.
Ruthven bowed to Ian and left the room. With him went the icy chill and Ian's tall posture. Ian slumped in his chair and his cigarette hung low in his mouth.
"Damn, that guy's tough. . ." I heard him mutter.
I raised an eyebrow. "You didn't handle him that badly. He looked like he was afraid of you."
"It's either take a tough stance with him or get eaten alive. Literally," he told me.
I cringed. "He'd really do that?"
He sat straight and took a drag on his cigarette. "He's tried it on me before."
My eyes widened. "And what happened?"
Ian puffed out the smoke and grinned. "I beat the crap out of him and took him on as my go-to man for info."
I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
He frowned. "What? You think a werewolf can't beat a vampire?"
"We're not talking about any werewolf, we're talking about you," I pointed out.
"If you don't believe what I'm saying then I can show you the marks," he replied as he stood. He unzipped his pants and pulled them down to reveal boxers.
My eyes widened and I jumped to my feet. "What the hell are you doing?" I yelped.
"Showing you where he sank his fangs into me," he told me. He tucked his thumbs into the band of his boxers. "The damn vampire took a chunk of of my ass just before I kicked his."
He wiggled his boxers down a few inches and I held out my hand. "Wait! Wait!" I shouted, and he paused mid-undressing. "I'll believe you, but just this once."
He grinned. "You sure? It's pretty impressive."
It was at that moment that Cronus decided to appear. He paused in the doorway and his eyes swept over the scene. One of his eyebrows slowly raised.
"Is this a bad time?" he asked us.
Ian sheepishly grinned at him and hiked his boxers and pants back up. "No, I was just showing off some scars to my new assistant so she could identify my body should the need arise."
My mouth dropped open. "What?" I yelped.
"But what's up?" Ian wondered as he nodded down to some papers in Cronus' hand. "We get a new case?"
"Yes. A missing person case," Cronus replied.
Ian frowned and swished his cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the other. "You know we don't take those. That's up to the police to handle."
Cronus held out a slip of paper with typed words. "This is a rather unusual one. The kidnapping had a witness, and she swore it was a Phantom who stole away her sister."
Ian stepped forward and browsed the contents. His eyes flickered up to Cronus' face. "Can we speak with the witness?"
"She's the one who contacted us, thanks in part to your acquaintance in the department," Cronus told him.
Ian grinned and folded the paper in half. "Good ol' Morgan. Call the lady back and tell her I'll meet with her as soon as she wants."
"The location?" Cronus asked him.
"The gazebo in the park on two-hundred and fifteenth street," Ian answered.
My breath caught in my throat. That was just a few blocks from where I used to live, and less than that to Mr. Shannon's grocery store.
"We also have a problem," Cronus added.
Ian raised an eyebrow. "The usual or something new?"
Cronus turned his dark eyes on me. "Her friends and family have contacted the police to report an Enid Runa as missing. Because of the timeliness of the disappearances the police are currently treating the two missing person reports as connected."
Ian frowned. "Damn. That won't make our job any easier." He turned to me. "That means you get to stay home and watch the fort."
I crossed my arms over my chest and my eyebrows crashed down. "Like hell I am."
"The police are looking for you. If they find you then the Phantoms will, too," he argued.
"What if I was around somebody all the time? The Phantoms might not take me then," I pointed out.
He held up the folded piece of paper. "This kidnapping has a witness. Don't think the Phantoms won't get the job done just because of a few humans."
I frowned, but couldn't argue. "Can't you at least just take me along?" I pleaded. "I'll stay ducked down in the car if I have to."
Ian pursed his lips, but sighed and nodded. "All right, but you're staying in the ca
r. Got it?"
I stood at attention and saluted him. "Aye, aye, sir!"
CHAPTER 3
The appointment was scheduled for that night at just shy of midnight. The witching hour. As we three drove to the meeting place I leaned between the two front seats.
"Did Ruthven really mention something about witches?" I asked Ian.
Ian leaned back and nodded. "Yep."
"So they really exist?"
"Yep."
"Can you say anything other than 'yep?'"
"Yep."
I rolled my eyes and dropped back against my seat. "So why are we meeting this witness at the park? Why not at the house?"
"You forget I'm trying to keep you, and us, safe," Ian replied. "That means telling as few people as possible where we live."
"So who does know?" I asked him.
"You, me, and Cronus. Oh, and Ruthven."
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow. "With how much trust you have you must've been really popular at school."
"Trust doesn't keep me alive," he returned.
I frowned and glanced at the streets that flew by. My eyes widened. We passed the street signs so fast I couldn't read them, but I could recognize my neighborhood. There was the bus stop, and down that block stood Mr. Shannon's grocery. A large lump formed in my throat. I was home, or practically there.
Ian didn't notice my tearing eyes and quivering lips. He sped through the places of so many of my memories and into the higher-numbered neighborhoods. I looked over my shoulder for one last glimpse of my past life.
"Don't look," Ian spoke up.
I turned to him and frowned. "Don't look at what?"
"At what you can't have any more," he explained.
I faced ahead like a good little girl, but my thoughts still lingered on the neighborhoods behind us. Cronus had said my family and friends were looking for me. Now was my chance to tell them in person that I was all right.
We arrived at the park a few minutes later. The gazebo stood fifty yards inside the large green lawn spotted with trees great and small. The parking lot was lit with a few scraggly lampposts that hardly illuminated their bases, much less the parking spots. Ian and Cronus climbed out of the car, and Ian turned to me as he shut his door.
