He let the matter drop and began to clean up. He moved the light switches up and down and the room soon illuminated again. Arinai could only stand motionless and consider recent events.
"Oracle, I may have to retract my earlier statement," she said as she pondered the facts. James stopped cleaning as he turned to her.
“Oh?” he asked.
Arinai nodded her head solemnly before speaking.
"Vera may indeed hate you."
Chapter 18
The next few days passed swiftly for James. He spent a lot of time feeling for Vera with his senses while refraining from physically searching for her. His mind told him she was safe—Camulas had tasked himself with keeping tabs on her—and Arinai told him to wait. That combination kept him momentarily inactive but slightly restless.
He attempted to catch up on his work, a very daunting task that kept him busy coordinating clients and solutions. Thankfully, he was assisted in his efforts by an increased ability to perform his duties. His clients even noticed the proficiency and commented on it—one even paid a bonus when he moved up their R&D time table by six months.
Thoughts of visiting Vera plagued him, but these thoughts were banished as he faced his heavy workload. It was tiring, but at least he was able to get some sleep at night.
The beasts outside his apartment remained. Each day saw a few more arrive, and each day he was forced to leave his place and ask to be ignored. This tactic seemed to work, and he wasn’t followed as he left. However, try as he might, he wasn’t able to get them to leave the area. James mood wasn't helped when Arinai told him that he may never have that skill.
"The Oracle is a position of knowledge, not power or will, and you’ll be limited in what you can do," she had told him.
James resigned himself to that fact and was grateful that he could at least hide his presence in some situations. He hadn’t asked for this personal hell, nor did he believe he deserved it; he just hoped that he would eventually be able to extricate himself from it.
The third day after Vera had stormed off from his apartment he found himself contemplating his actions as he sat in a small deli not too far from the waterfront. He had finished what projects he could and refused to take on any more work, deciding it was best to concentrate on his personal problems rather than corporate ones.
He thought about Vera and reached out for her with his mind. She was still difficult for him to locate, and the only thing he could get from her was that she was very sad, but safe, somewhere to the east and near the shores of Lake Washington. James assumed that she was home in Madison Park, and relayed that information to Camulas via a text. He was pleased when Camulas replied that Vera was indeed safe and being watched by a trusted ally.
James frowned and reached outward to see if he could detect this mysterious ally. When his mind found an inconspicuous dog in the vicinity of Vera, he had to smile. The hellhound appeared to be loyal to Camulas, even to the point of vacating its position outside his apartment in order to guard its new ward.
Thank you, Camulas, James thought.
"May I sit here? The other tables are full."
James came back to the present and looked at his new companion. She was holding a tray of food and appeared anxious to set it down.
James was stunned by her appearance. She wore a fine black evening dress accentuated with tasteful jewelry, and her hair, nails, and makeup were perfect. It was a very odd vision considering the other people in the establishment were in business attire or tourist clothing. Most people appeared dressed for work or travel—this woman looked as if she was about to attend the opera.
"Ah, yes sure. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere."
The woman sat down and James went back to his thoughts of Vera. He felt shame, guilt, and concern for her. He decided that he would visit her later that night. Hopefully, she would see him.
As his mind left Vera's presence, he felt outward across the city. His apartment building was still the center of attention, but he could feel several other beings throughout the surrounding hills. The Ballard locks drew his attention, and he sensed something very odd. A beast was making its way from the Puget Sound, moving through the locks and into Lake Union. He felt for its mind and came across instinct and hunger—it was a primal entity. Unable to get more information, James left the beast alone and moved on to the other entities.
He felt for and found Arinai. She was out walking the city with Camulas, learning what they could about the area: its strongholds, its weak points, and other strategic positions. James was pleased that he could locate his new friends so easily; it was a skill he had only recently acquired with regard to the ancients. After a few more minutes of monitoring them, he returned his attention to his food and took a bite of a sandwich.
It was then that he noticed his companion hadn’t eaten any of her food. In fact, she was doing nothing but staring at him. He stared back. It was very odd, and when the realization struck him that she wasn't human, he cast out his mind and felt for her presence. He couldn’t feel anything and concluded that she must be normal. He almost laughed at that thought. What was normal nowadays?
They stared at each other for another moment and James felt very awkward. He thought about saying something, but the silence had gone on too long and now he feared breaking that silence. He tried to think of something to say, but his mind betrayed him by going blank.
The woman leaned in slightly and smiled oddly as her eyes flashed with interest.
"My, you’re a very handsome man, aren't you?"
The words were tinged with a playful hunger, and James wasn’t sure what to say but decided to return the compliment. This woman was indeed very beautiful, from her black dress to her black hair and even her eyes were as black as...
A raven's.
The words intruded into his mind, but he had no idea where they had come from. He thought it might be the woman before him, but that didn't sit right. Something else had spoken to him, and he was reminded of the voices heard by schizophrenics. There was some part of his brain that was beginning to provide a narrative to his life, and he didn't like it.
His realization of the woman's identity was tinged with doubt. He couldn’t feel her presence, not like he could the others. Trying again, he still felt nothing. Deciding on another tactic, he attempted to blink and see a demon side.
The woman before him changed slightly, and he had his confirmation as well as a bigger problem. She was even more beautiful to his new eyes. The dress appeared to move and change; it was as if the garment was part of her being, and James could see that it was made of feathers, but feathers so fine and smooth that they shone as if they were fine and supple leather.
Her hair and eyes also became more enchanting, darker than the night and adding a sultry component to the woman. She smiled wickedly as he scrutinized her.
"Hello, Lover," she said gleefully.
James decided not to speak. He had made a mistake the first time he had been in this type of situation, and that mistake with Drake and his ilk would not be repeated.
"Oh," she cooed, "does the cat have your tongue? That’s too bad, because I can think of so many things you can do with that tongue of yours." Her eyes brightened and she appeared genuinely turned on."You know, that was very naughty of you the other night. You invaded my mind and made me remember things long forgotten. I have never experienced something like that. It was almost like..." she pondered for a moment as she considered what word to use. Her eyes widened as one finally came to her, "...Rape," she finished gleefully.
She leaned in to him, smiled wickedly, and in a sultry voice commanded him.
"Do it again!" she said.
It was now James' turn to become wide-eyed. He could see that she was serious. However, he had no intention of attempting to enter that maelstrom of a mind again. He cast out a thought to be ignored and for a moment he thought it would work. The raven became confused and lost her train of thought. She looked around and attempted to gain her bearings
. It was then that her presence hit him full force. He could feel her and even see images of her life.
She was somehow blocking me, he thought as he realized why he had been unable to feel the woman.
He had to conclude that her block was a very conscious effort and his command to be ignored had somehow affected that block. Once she had ignored him, her defenses had come down.
Unfortunately, the woman's confusion didn't last long. Her block came back into effect and she returned her gaze to him. He tried to get her to ignore him again but failed. The woman only smiled at him.
"That was very naughty," she said as her eyes continued to dance with a perverted joy. "Tell me, James," she said, pausing in mid sentence for effect. "Yes, I know your name," she stated in response to his look of surprise before continuing. "Do you intend to always be this naughty? If so, I can think of much better methods and much more entertaining forms of cruelty that you can perform on me."
"What is it you want, Deboin?"
"Oh, he speaks, and he knows my name," she said, becoming more excited. "This will be interesting."
She leaned back in her chair, smiling insanely as her eyes sparkled. "You’re so new, and I have never seen anything like you. I find you interesting. No one has been able to rape me like you did."
James repeated his question. He didn't want to extend this conversation unduly, but short of invading her mind, and he was loathe to do that, he could see no way of learning her motives other than asking.
Deboin leaned in while turning her head from side to side. She appeared almost like a raven, examining a piece of food on the ground.
"The rape was interesting," she said. "Do it again!"
James looked at those excited eyes. He had witnessed more than one woman who hungered for sex, but while this act was close in appearance, it was also very different.
He tried to leave, but as he moved the cafe darkened. The ceiling edges blackened as if with oil and the viscous fluid spread across the area roofline, towards the far corner of the cafe. James watched in silence as it reached the edge and slithered its way down the wall to the floor. He thought about running but realized it wasn’t heading for him. It was making its way to a small baby cradle that was sitting on the floor next to its mother. The opaque oil wrapped around the cradle, and the lack of reaction by anyone else in the area informed him that he was the only one who could see it. A moment later the baby stopped breathing, smothered by darkness.
"Stop this!" he said.
She leaned in and seethed through her teeth.
"Do it again!" she commanded.
James thought quickly. The mother hadn’t noticed that her child was in trouble and she may not—not until she left and saw that her baby was dead. Frantic, James thought about what to do. He quickly decided to surrender.
"Alright, open your mind to me," he commanded of her, angry at being pushed into this position.
"Uh uh," she said, grinning and shaking her head. "Rape me!"
James was getting angrier, and the baby was still not breathing. The only thing he could think to do was attack, but he had never used this talent for attack.
He focused on the woman before him. His eyes widened, and without blinking he saw her true form. Ignoring the beauty of the flesh, he concentrated on how much he hated her. He stared at her eyes, which were now fully black. Not a single part of the sclera was visible, and it was those eyes that gave him his opening.
He pierced them and found that her resistance crumbled. He had a mental feeling of breaking through a concrete wall. Deboin had used all of her strength to keep him out and he cast her aside as if she were a 90 pound weakling. He delved into her mind and she audibly gasped as he forced himself into her.
Her hands grabbed the edge of the table and held firm. James tried to command her to release the baby, but she didn't obey. He didn't have the kind of power, but as he moved about her mind she followed. It didn't take long before she lost concentration of external events. The viscous material covering the baby moved away and dissipated, but James knew that the baby still didn't breathe.
James concentrated on his actions. The images he witnessed were horrid, and he had to fight his physical disgust of them. Deboin now had her eyes closed, and a wicked smile, a firm grip, and rapid breathing told him that she was enjoying herself.
Take the child, his narrator said into his mind. James didn't wonder where the advice came from. He simply heeded it.
He stood from the table and almost fell back down. It was difficult to concentrate on what he was doing both mentally and physically. He tried again. This time more slowly and found it possible to stand and even maintain his attack on the raven. He walked over to the mother who was still oblivious to her child's predicament.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," he said, putting urgency into his voice. "I don't mean to intrude but I noticed that your child appears to be in distress. May I take a look?"
The mother took a second to comprehend what he was saying. She glanced at him warily, but turning to her child, she quickly examined him.
"Oh my, God! He's not breathing!" she screamed.
"Let me," James said as he took a quick look.
The entire cafe was now at attention and James' mind coalesced in the moment. He barked out commands. It didn't take long before someone grabbed the mother and pulled her away. She was screaming for help and wasn’t fit to be near them. A nearby nurse was at his side, and she took a second to examine the child.
"His heart is stopped," she said. "Let's get him clear and perform CPR."
They moved the baby out of the cradle, and James spied Deboin through the crowd of onlookers as they did so. She was just as he left her; gleefully enjoying his penetration of her. His mind continued to feel hers and for a second, he lost his newly acquired objectivity. He could smell burning flesh and hear children screaming. Deboin's back arched slightly, her hands tightened, and her knuckles became white.
My god, that thing's having an orgasm, he thought.
The baby was cleared and they were careful with the neck and head. The child was much too fragile to risk moving to any serious degree. Two quick breathes followed by two finger compressions to the chest produced a response, and the child began to breathe.
The nurse performed a few more checks and then handed the child to the mother, telling her to follow her to the hospital. The mother continued to cry and examine her baby, all the while thanking the nurse and even James. She was in tears and emotionally distraught. The nurse put her arms around the woman and worked to guide her out of the deli.
As he stood, James realized that the raven's mind had faded from his. He could still feel her presence, but there was no resistance. Also gone was the intense passion of her experiences. He could now make out details of the creature without being forced to share the emotions that it felt. James turned to his table and noticed that the demoness was gone.
Switching from her memories, he realized that he could see through her eyes. She wasn’t far, just a few feet down the block and making her way across the street. She didn't sense him—not now, anyway—and James became slightly confused. Just moments before, Deboin could feel every aspect of his intrusion. She now seemed oblivious to him. He decided he didn't care what the reason was and pulled out of her mind.
The mother of the child was still crying hysterically and thanking everyone profusely as the nurse tried to get her to leave. The mother gave James a large hug, and had to be consoled more so than her child, who had cried upon breathing once again but was now quieting down to a silent state.
James took a deep breath and shook his head as he attempted to extricate himself from the back pats and congratulations of his fellow professionals. It was nothing, he told them, and he really believed anyone else would have done the same thing; the difference in this case was that the child had been in danger because of him, and that fact didn't sit well with him.
The phrase do no harm, entered his mind, but he didn't know if it was from his n
ewfound psychotic narrator or from his own philosophical beliefs.
Unsure what to do, James pulled his phone from his pocket and hit his speed dial. It began to ring, and he smiled as the lilting tones of the recipients chosen music played for him. It was always different and always pleasant.
Chapter 19
"This is my big sister Vera Linn Monroe, but you can call her Vera," Anna's childish voice said distinctly.
The scene changed rapidly; the cameraman had been an obvious amateur, unable to control his equipment. Vera watched Anna on the screen as the little girl continued to introduce her sister to everyone. It was Anna's 5th birthday party, and she was excited. They had met at the park and she, along with several of her friends, was looking forward to cake and presents.
The video ended and Vera put in another. She sat back down and continued to pull at the ears of Anna's favorite stuffed animal. It was in terrible condition, but Vera held onto it and protected it.
A loud whoop of a siren caught her attention. She made her way to the window and looked out to the street. The patrol car was still there. It had been parked on their street since before she arrived home.
"Excuse me, are you Vera Linn Monroe?" they had asked when she had dragged her tired body to the front door a few days prior.
"Yes," she had replied.
The officers had wasted no time in gathering her up and taking her to the station. She was tired but was forced to spend countless hours answering questions. Her family's murder was big news, and the prominence of her father caused the city's elite to push for a quick resolution. She hated her father at that moment; everyone cared for him and his money, not for Anna. They told her how tragic it was that her mother was killed, but it was her damn father that got the attention. Even her mother was a side note.
"It must have been someone that he failed to defend," the police had said. "Or, maybe he was working on a civil case and the defense wanted him quiet."
Celtics Rising: Birth of an Oracle Page 17
