Oracle Saving (The Phoenix Files Book 3)

by Morgan Kelley

  Oracle already knew the latter was heading her way, and not even she could stop it.

  * * * O R A C L E * * *

  Luke made the call and placed it on speaker.

  When Lucian answered his phone, the man wasn’t exactly shocked to hear from him. That meant one thing. He and Avalon had been having a talk in the static.

  Since leaving Ravenswood, Avalon had been helping the man learn to control his gift. It was clear that he was doing much better now.

  “Lucian, we have a situation.”

  He told him everything that Avalon had shared with them earlier.

  “I know. I’ve heard about it. Last night, all the voices were out of control, and then they stopped. It was that brief moment that I heard Oracle.”

  “She’s already sending Jagger out.”

  There was a quiet pause. “Does he know…?”

  “No. He’s unaware that Roxy is the one who will be there for him to save.”

  The man whistled. “He’s going to be pissed.” Lucian knew he would be if he’d been ambushed with Bishop like that. Yes, granted, he’d been in love, too, but no man wanted to be forced into a situation.

  “Are you in?” Luke asked as Nate entered the room.

  “Yes, I’m in. I don’t know what I can do to help, but we have to do something to save Roxy.”

  “Can Bishop keep it quiet?” Nate asked. “We can’t have Roxy getting the heads up.”

  There was a pause and the sound of a door closing. “Sorry, but my wife is in the shower. I don’t want her hearing this from anyone but me,” he stated.

  They got that.

  “Roxy has only sent a few post cards. She really hasn’t called much in the last two months. I think Bishop and Roxy are having girlfriend issues. She ran, and we eloped. It’s been touchy since then.”

  “We need her help. Is she up for it?”

  He headed into the bathroom. “Baby, Nate and Luke are on the phone. They want to know if you’re up for a case. They have one they’re working on, and Avalon needs my help.”

  “Hell yeah, I’m in! I’m going stir-crazy here at Graymoor. Please tell me it’s going to involve bad guys, guns, and a few shootouts.”

  “Yeah, maybe this is a bad idea,” Lucian stated. “One of us was recently shot. It may not be a good idea to let her play with any of the above things.”

  She snorted. “I got shot because a crazy nearly got you. It had nothing to do with me.”

  Nate and Luke both got that.

  They understood that fear.

  They dealt with women who were constantly in danger. No one could blame Lucian for being nervous about that.

  Bishop laughed. “We’re in,” she stated. “Where do you want us to meet you?” she asked.

  This was going to be the tricky part, and all three men knew it.

  “We’re going to Happy, Texas.”

  At the mention of the name, she turned off the shower. “Wait, are you saying we’re going to THAT town?” she asked, staring at her husband. He was wearing his eyepatch, but his other blue eye gave him away.

  There was more to this than they were letting on.

  “Son of a bitch,” was all she could say. “She’s gotten herself into trouble, hasn’t she?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Nate offered. “This is the worst kind of trouble too. It’s the psychic kind.”

  Bishop didn’t have to hesitate.

  This was Roxy. Despite it all, they were friends. She’d have her back.

  “I’m still in. We’ll meet you there.”

  Nate was glad they could count on the couple. Bishop Killion-Monroe was an excellent ex-sheriff, and her husband had an amazing gift.

  Together, they would be an asset on this case.

  “We have to drive in, but if you get there, lay low,” he stated. “We have Jagger going in first.”

  There was an audible gasp.

  “She’s going to kick his ass. That poor man. It sucks we’ll be getting there to pick up the carnage.”

  She could say that again.

  “I’m not looking forward to it,” Nate admitted.

  “I’m not either,” Bishop said.

  Yeah, that said it all, only Jagger wasn’t the only one who was going to get their ass handed to them when this was all over. He was the only one who was going in blind. The team knew the truth. Oracle had better be right, or this was going to be one hell of a mess…

  The kind that destroyed a family.

  * * * O R A C L E * * *

  Happy, Texas

  Evening

  She’d had a long day. Heading into the small mom and pop corner store, she saw the older man behind the counter. He was whittling away at a block of wood just like he was the last twenty times she’d been there. Each time, the wood was the same, the grin was the same, and the conversation too.

  It was like a bad case of déjà vu.

  When she walked past him, she noticed he smiled and gave her a wink.

  “Good evening, miss.”

  “Yes, it is,” Roxy said. “How are you tonight, Mr. Fry?” she asked. “How’s that arthritis of yours?”

  Mordechai put down his block of wood. “I’m a might tired and stiff, but you know how it is when you get to be my age. Youth is wasted on the young.”

  She pointed at the pack of cigarettes on the counter. “If you quit smoking, you’d feel better.”

  He laughed. “I’d also be bored out of my mind, Doctor. We all have to have one vice.”

  Apparently, word had traveled that she was the new coroner. “How’s your family?” she asked, picking out a few things before she headed to the aisle with her main purpose for being there. The place was so small that they could continue their conversation.

  “Harold is a pain in my ass, the missus is a bitch on wheels, and the dog ran away. Same old.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, except you don’t have a dog and your wife is dead.”

  He laughed. “I know. Any good cases?” he asked.

  “Nope. Same shit, different day. We’re born and we die. Nothing really changes in the middle.”

  She heard a sound from the other side of the store, and Roxy turned to see the man’s son heading her way.

  He was dusting shelves.

  “Hey, Harold.”

  “Ma’am. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Roxy,” she offered. The son was early twenties but looked like he’d been rode hard, and put away wet.

  If anything, the family that smoked together and had bad vices together, got lung cancer together.

  Here was the proof.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, trying to get her things and then out of there. She was tired, and she was pretty sure it was a combination of the life she was growing and the hours she spent standing over the two dead women.

  “Sure thing, miss,” Mordechai said, going back to his whittling.

  Roxy headed toward the cereal aisle. All day, she had this irrational need for some sugary cereal—which was insane, since she didn’t eat sugary cereal ever.

  Hell!

  She never ate cereal. She was more a coffee kind of girl, but things were clearly out of her control. How did she know?

  She also needed to put chocolate milk on the cereal.

  Not white.

  Not almond.

  But chocolate.

  Yeah, hormones were crazy. As she shopped, she could feel eyes on her around the store. Harold and a few other citizens of the town were studying her.

  It made Roxy nervous.

  Still, she got it.

  She was the oddity there in Happy. She was the outsider, and they’d never seen anything like her. The old coroner was a geezer with white hair, a cranky disposition, and plenty of time to gossip with the locals.

  She was the opposite.

  Roxy was young, dressed well, and loved her heels. She’d die before giving them up. Gratefully, she wouldn’t be in Happy much longer. Once the town found a permanent coroner, she’d h
ead off into the sunset to find another standby city to work in.

  Maybe she’d head overseas.

  Maybe she’d just use her trust fund and say screw it.

  Maybe she’d figure out what she was going to do about the little life growing in her.

  Either way, she was getting out of there soon enough. Well, after she figured out what the hell was killing random women in the town. The mystery was simply too big to ignore.

  Grabbing her things, she headed toward the counter and the old man.

  “Is that it?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, minding her manners. It was the same conversation every day. At that moment, Roxy was feeling edgy, snarky, and she missed her bestie.

  Happy sucked.

  He rattled off the total and struggled to bag her things. When he’d finally finished and she’d paid, she waved goodbye and headed out. When she got into her car, she was compelled to lock the doors.

  Roxy didn’t know why.

  Suddenly, she felt unsafe as if eyes were watching her from across the street. The hairs on her arms were standing, and the entire time, one word kept going through her mind.

  Evil.

  Something evil was there.

  The sleepy little town was off, and she could feel it.

  Then she laughed.

  “Roxy, you’re losing your mind. This pregnancy is making you a paranoid mess.”

  She started the car and drove the short distance to the little shiplap cabin she was renting. When she pulled up in front, she swore she got a whiff of something that shouldn’t be there.

  “Jagger,” she whispered.

  Roxy knew that wasn’t possible. His cologne…she’d never forget it as long as she lived. Whenever she thought she smelled it, her night was generally plagued with the same things.

  She was going to think about him.

  And…she was going to dream about him.

  Great.

  She was getting sloppy and stupid with pregnancy. Still, it was one of the few things in her life that gave her peace. For two months, she’d missed him, missed his cocky grin, and most of all—she missed his touch.

  Grabbing her briefcase, the bag of groceries, and her purse, Roxy headed toward the door. Once there, she got it unlocked, but still felt like she was being watched.

  It was making her skin crawl.

  Rushing in, she locked the door behind her. As she leaned against the wood, she tried to calm her irrational fears. There was nothing to be afraid of in Happy but boredom.

  She knew better.

  Since she stared at the dead all day, things didn’t freak her out. She was being a baby.

  Roxy headed toward the bedroom to get changed. As she slipped out of her skirt and heels, she pulled on a t-shirt.

  Not just any t-shirt.

  It was his.

  After her best friend had been shot, she’d sat in the hospital weeping a puddle of tears, afraid she was going to lose Bishop. Jagger sat beside her, and he held her in his arms. When he drove her back home, she’d told him she didn’t think she’d ever sleep again.

  He’d pulled off his shirt and handed it to her.

  That moment changed everything.

  That one act made her realize the truth. She loved him so damn much. Until he gave her that shirt, she was going to stay and help Bishop heal.

  After?

  She had to run to save them both.

  The worst part was that he’d been right.

  It did help her sleep.

  That was the issue. He solved all her problems but one. Men hurt you, and she couldn’t risk it. She’d loved her parents, and they’d broken her. Roxy’s father raped her for years, and when she’d finally been strong enough to tell someone, her mother, she didn’t believe her.

  They betrayed her heart, and they were the people who made her. How was she supposed to trust some ex-Marine Fed? He was a stranger.

  Yeah, one she fell in love with.

  Bringing the t-shirt to her nose, she sniffed it. The scent of his cologne did two things.

  She calmed, and she got wet.

  Damn him!

  This was why she was halfway across the country. She couldn’t risk this response.

  Setting her hair free, she thought about the food waiting for her. Roxy was starving, and she had someone else to think about beside herself.

  Grabbing a bowl of cereal, she took it and her folders back into her bedroom. She climbed onto the large bed and got comfortable.

  Then she began studying the five cases from the previous year, and the two from the women in her morgue.

  As she read, two things became clear. This was a huge mess, and she was so damn tired. It was as if the energy was being sucked out of her.

  Maybe she’d rest.

  She could work later.

  Placing the cereal bowl on the nightstand, she cuddled down into the blankets. The last thing she recalled was the scent of Jagger’s cologne right before she fell deep into sleep.

  Like when she got into her car earlier, there, she wasn’t alone.

  Her mother was there.

  So was her father and the horrors she had barely survived were back.

  Roxy couldn’t fight it.

  She couldn’t escape.

  The nightmare had found her, and she was helpless to stop it or her father from breaking her all over again.

  Roxy wanted to die.

  Chapter Three

  Happy

  Wednesday Night

  It was a long ass trip.

  While the team was driving, Jagger had to fly into Dallas, then catch a small commuter flight to some tiny airport in the middle of the panhandle, and then rent a car. It took hours, and he was hungover and edgy.

  His gut was screaming.

  He couldn’t help but feel off about something—he just didn’t know what.

  Still, he kept going despite his better judgment.

  In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter what he felt or if he was getting that ‘feeling’. He had a job to do, and he’d save this woman’s life. If it came down to screwing up, he’d rather quit and move on. When Oracle said she had to live, there was no doubt in his mind that he had to take care of business.

  Well, it was getting late.

  The flight was delayed.

  The drive sucked.

  By now, he knew she’d already be asleep. Time, he knew, was essentially running out for this victim.

  Parking in front of the address, he scanned the area. It was pretty much the middle of nowhere with a side of desolation to make it a scene out of ‘Deliverance’.

  He only hoped he didn’t get shot. That would be the cherry on top of his sucky life. His idea of fun wasn’t pulling lead from his ass as he explained to Avalon how he’d failed his one mission.

  Yeah, that would really be bad.

  Heading toward the cabin, he didn’t see any lights on inside, and that spoke volumes. The woman was definitely asleep.

  Popping in his Bluetooth, he made the call to Avalon. She said she’d walk him through the process of waking the woman. He hoped she was going to pick up, because he didn’t know anything about this woo-woo shit.

  He was a Marine.

  Give him a gun and knife any day.

  Just as he was about to dial, there was a scream so loud that it sent chills down his spine. It was icy and full of fear.

  There was only one place it could be coming from, and that was the woman inside.

  Oddly, it sounded familiar, but he didn’t know why.

  Jagger pushed that feeling aside as he took out his kit to pick the lock on the door. Breaking it in might scare the person inside, and from the sound of it, she was already terrified.

  Once the door was open, he pulled his sidearm and cleared the first room.

  It smelled familiar.

  His gut reacted to the scent of perfume wafting in the air. It threw him off balance. He knew it anywhere, but that simply couldn’t be.

&
nbsp; There was no way…

  Then there was another scream and this time it sounded like a woman was being assaulted from the other room.

  Instinctually, Jagger knew he couldn’t let that happen. The sound of the voice and the scent of the perfume—it all added up to one thing.

  Racing toward the bedroom, he slid to a stop when he saw the woman in the bed.

  Holy shit!

  He’d been right. It was Doctor Roxanne Faust.

  For that brief second, he was thrown for one hell of a loop. Here was the woman he loved, who left him, and who he stumbled back upon without being any the wiser.

  He didn’t know what to do.

  It was as if his legs stopped working. His brain shut down, and his body was refusing to move.

  He was angry.

  Scared.

  Mad.

  Terrified.

  He was everything all rolled into one, and he was super pissed at Avalon for this. She’d crossed one hell of a line by not giving him a heads up on this one. She had to have seen this, and still…

  He wanted to hurt someone.

  He heard the whimpers of fear from the bed, and he knew he had to snap out of it in order to save Roxy. While Avalon didn’t warn him, there was no way she’d lie about a case.

  He didn’t have much time.

  Avalon said the woman was going to die, and that meant that she wasn’t going to make it.

  In that moment, Jagger understood why she sent him there, but still, it was painful, and they would be having a conversation later. Shit like this didn’t fly with him.

  Roxy moaned, grabbing his attention.

  Jagger hustled his way toward the bed. He climbed onto it and touched her face. She was ice cold. Her lips were going blue, and he didn’t doubt that this was going to be the last time he saw her.

  She was dying.

  In that moment, he let the anger go. Her life mattered more than being pissed over her leaving and Avalon’s stunt. So much welled up in him.

  Most of it was the fear of losing her again.

  He had to fight to save her.

  “Come on, Roxy. Wake up for me,” he said, patting her cheeks. When that didn’t work, he shook her. When that didn’t work, he picked her up in his arms and held her against his body as he sat on the bed.