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

Ren grabs a beginner BDSM kit, clutching it to his chest.

“On that note…” I say, taking a deep breath. “I gotta go. Thank you for all of your help, Ren. Take good care of everything—like I know you will. I’ll call in as much as I can. I’m sure Blake will let me use his cellphone.”

I walk to the front door and reach for the handle. An odd sensation rushes over me—like for some reason, this hunt for the pedophile ring—the way everything is playing out means more than I can completely fathom right now. When I get those types of feelings, I know to stop and take a beat because they’re significant. It might not make sense now, but I have no doubt it will.

Turning back around, I pause and take everything in. The way the small shop is laid out—the lighting, the bookshelves, the herbs, crystals, and Renaldo’s Valentine’s Day merchandise. Ren’s eyebrows tug in, but he doesn’t say anything—he just watches me as I tune in.

The pungent smell of frankincense permeates the air—mixing with lavender and sage. I’ve become so accustomed to those smells, I hardly even notice them anymore. But now, it all seems significant somehow.

“Everything … okay?” Ren finally says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I just—I don’t know. Something made me pause,” I say, shaking my head.

“What was it?”

“Not sure. Just a feeling, I guess. This trip is going to be significant. Perhaps life changing, I just don’t know how yet.”

“Maybe you and Private Eye Tightpants will end up in one hotel room,” Ren says, smiling sheepishly.

I chuckle. “Don’t count on it. But—whatever it is, I wanted to take a mental inventory of things. So I know what’s changed when I come back. It may be nothing … or it could be everything. Who knows?”

“You better take care of yourself, Diana. Be safe, for the love of all that’s holy. Don’t put yourself in any unnecessary danger or anything. Yes, I know you—Ms. Run and Jump Before She Looks.”

Renaldo rarely goes all paternal on me, but when he does, it’s because I’ve spooked him.

I walk over to him, putting my arms around him.

“I’ll be safe. You better be, too. You hear me? Don’t piss off Mrs. Kaminski. Or Brody, for that matter.”

“I hear you. And I’ll try not to.”

“Good.”

With that, I pat him on the back and turn on my heel. I don’t stop as I fling the door open and I don’t turn around as I walk out onto the sidewalk and down the street. Instead, I make my way deliberately forward, knowing full well when I return, things will be very different.

When I’m back at my house, the strange sensations of significance hasn’t subsided. If anything, it’s gotten more powerful. Shivering away the energy, I instinctively flit my eyes to my calendar—one day to the full moon. Perhaps that’s all it is?

Glancing at the clock as I set down my purse and keys, I take a deep breath. It’s only gone 5:30pm.

I need to call Demetri.

There’s still plenty of time to pack and if for some reason anything goes wrong—I need to say my apology out loud.

Walking to the corded phone on my wall, I pluck it from its holder and dial his number.

“Hello?” the woman’s voice on the other end answers.

For a moment, my heart skips a beat—then plummets into my stomach. Demetri and I never were a thing—not like that—but he’s always had a special place in my heart. He’s helped me through so many rough patches over the years. If he has a new woman in his life and he didn’t tell me—things are worse than I thought.

“Uh—hi,” I say, recovering. “Is Demetri there?”

“Sure,” the woman’s upbeat voice responds. “Can I tell him who’s calling?”

“It’s Diana,” I say.

“Oh,” is the response. Not the upbeat, “gotcha” kind of “oh,” either. It’s the “holy shit, it’s her” kinda oh.

I wince.

After a bit of scuffling and voices muttering under a muffled receiver, the call clears up.

“Hi, Diana. What did you need?” Demetri’s rough voice answers from the other end.

“Hey, Demetri. You doing okay?”

Silence greets me on the other end and I wince again.

“Look—I know things didn’t go so well last month—”

“That’s an understatement,” he says.

I take a deep breath and bite my lip.

“I know,” I whisper, clutching the phone.

An awkward pause descends, as I search for the words I really want to say to him.

“Okay—I know I suck. I never should have pushed you to try the ritual with me. I figured since we were already working with the Violet Flame for Morgan and Gabe—well, I thought it would help me, too. It was stupid and reckless.”

“Yeah, and it just about killed me, Diana. Stupid and reckless don’t even cover it.”

My fingertips graze my forehead as I nod gingerly. He’s right—God, he’s so right.

“I don’t know what came over me. It’s just been so long since I felt like doors might open. It was a long shot, I get that, but…” I take a deep breath, “I can’t keep living like this and you were the only one who I trusted. You’re the only one who understands my predicament.”

Demetri blows out a buff of air.

“I get your desperation. I really do. And I know it wasn’t your fault. It’s my fault, too. I’m the one who brought up the Violet Flame in the first place. I mean, how the hell were you meant to know how powerful the magic is surrounding Morgan’s request—let alone your memory?”

“Well, I should have guessed. Morgan has power—more power than I’ve felt roll off a single person in years. And with me … I mean—it’s been a helluva long time and I’ve never even gotten a glimpse of insight. Not even an inkling as to my life before I woke up that day. I’ve tried everything. Literally—everything I can think of. But I thought… I dunno, for whatever reason I thought that night was different. That the ritual we were doing together would be