Oracle: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Series (A Diana Hawthorne Supernatural Mystery Book 1), Carissa Andrews [read my book .txt] 📗

“What makes you say that,” I say, playing the part.

“Well, if you are what you say—then confusion probably doesn’t land squarely in your court a whole lot. Then again, you could be really good at educated guesses,” he shrugs.

“One may never know.”

Blake pulls the vehicle into my single car driveway and I automatically open the door as we come to a stop.

“Well, Blake—I wish I could say it was nice to meet you…but it’s been an odd day at best. Good luck getting the back windshield fixed. Thanks for the ride home.”

Before he can say anything, I close the door and cross the front lawn. I’m halfway up the front steps when I’m pulled up short.

“Hey—I, uh—have a good night,” Blake says, as I turn around. “I appreciate your help.”

“You said that already,” I say, my eyebrow quirking.

“Did I? Oh, well, night,” he says, stepping back and waving awkwardly goodbye.

I stand on my front steps, watching him turn around and walk away.

Even at this late hour—even after getting to know him a tiny bit—he still has a great ass.

I sigh to myself and turn to the front door. With my keys in hand, the lock clicks open, and I walk inside; closing the door behind me.

I’m not sure what it is about Blake—he makes me question myself.

No—that’s not true. He makes me question my previous assumptions about people. It’s pretty obvious he’s a good guy—at least his heart’s in the right place. He’s still a jerk in his own way, though. Deliberately running into me, breaking into my house.

Mental note: I gotta figure out how he did that. Kinda creepy.

Probably should have asked him, Diana.

I roll my eyes at myself.

Flicking my keys onto the table in the entry way, I make my way to the refrigerator and grab the Mexican leftovers from last night’s meal. Until this moment, I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I suppose being damn near kidnapped the moment you get home will do that to a person.

With lights low, I sit down at my dining room table and eat. My mind races through the evening’s events; through all that happened and all that coulda went wrong. I avoid any stress—or forcing my abilities to go anywhere they don’t want to go. As it is, my body is already heavy and ready for rest.

If I didn’t have such an aversion to technology, this is where I’d pull out a smartphone or something and text Renaldo to have him cancel tomorrow’s appointments for me. If I’m up before noon, I’ll be surprised. Unfortunately, I don’t have one and likely never will.

I reach for the ordinary landline wall phone that’s probably as old as this house. Dialing his number, I glance at the clock on the stove. 1:47am.

Yikes. Brody’s gonna kill me.

Fortunately, his voicemail picks up and I leave a quick message, “Hey Ren. It’s me—sorry to call so late, or early depending on how you look at it. Anyway, I’m not gonna be able to make it in to work today. I’ll explain later. If you can reschedule my list, I’d appreciate it. Talk to you in the morning. Bye.”

With that said and done, I place my dishes beside the sink and go through my nightly routine—pee, floss, brush teeth, rinse and spit, slip outta the day’s clothes and into my tank top.

I don’t bother with my lights, instead opting to wander the halls in darkness. Sliding into bed, I take a final breath, resting back into my pillow, and squirming around enough to get comfy. My eyes close and almost instantly, I’m drifting into the peaceful bliss of sleep.

Before I can enjoy any of it—I’m pulled back to the Range Rover—to being shot at. Glass shattering.

As our vehicle speeds off, the two men haul ass inside. After seeing Ralph—the man who was holding Esther—tied up to the chair, they race to the hidden room, and find it raided. They know their time is limited, so they shoot him in the head and vacate the premises.

My eyes pop open.

Shit, the real bad guys got away.

6

DESPITE THE REVELATION of the men getting away, I close my eyes and try to slip back into sleep. There’s nothing I can do about it, anyway—and besides, the cops should know by now. They were coming in right as we left. I’m sure they’re already on the hunt, trying to locate and apprehend them. The best thing I can do is stay out of their way before someone freaks out at my gifts again.

Darkness consumes me, and I give in to its beckoning. For the longest time, I drift, quietly and peacefully through a multicolored mist—reenergizing; reconnecting to the source of all. After a while, the energy shifts, molding into something familiar, but distant—as though it’s a dream I’ve walked once before but have never recalled.

Torches burn along the walls of a cavern—it leads somewhere important, but I can’t place why. My heart thumps against my chest, because I already know the outcome isn’t good. Somewhere within my soul the awareness seeps in—he’s gone—someone’s taken his energy and displaced it. Even though he means something to me—I don’t know who he is. Or why. All I know is I need to make this right—

As I reach the end of the tunnel, light floods into the walkway from inside. Torches along the wall smoke and flicker, but within the chamber, is utter silence. Before I can cross the threshold into the main chamber, I notice a symbol along the wall. It looks like a cross between the more modern male and female symbols I’m used to—but not.

I reach out to touch the symbol, drawn to the power emanating from it. As soon as my fingertips touch it, I’m thrust from the cavern and back into my bed.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

My eyes flicker open, and I take in the streaming daylight cascading in from