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

light upon the entire sanctuary. Shadows dance through the once magnificent structures. Now, they echo with the haunting memories of times past. I could have brought him in the daytime, but this will mean more. I know it will.

Sliding my tongue between my lips, I sigh.

“Blake—I need to talk to you and truthfully, I dunno how you’re going to take some of the information. Frankly, you’re gonna probably think I’ve tipped off my rocker when you hear it.”

“Oooh, intrigue,” he says, tilting his head. His lips shift into a half-smirk, half-smile.

I let go of his hand, walking into the main Temple of Apollo. Meandering toward its hestia, I pause, taking in the scenery and the way everything has changed from their original glory.

It’s strange to be able to see ancient locations with these eyes—my new modern perception overlays the freshly returned ancient memories from when it was once a thriving venue. Not that the Temple doesn’t still bring its draw of people, it does—just for far different reasons.

I wonder if Apollo would be pleased or appalled.

Blake walks up beside me, searching my face for answers. My forehead creases and I look away. How do I explain everything that’s happened to me without sounding utterly and completely insane?

Blake’s intense stare pulls me from my own thoughts and he pulls my hands into his.

I’m suddenly inundated and overwhelmed by the love he feels—the trust and loyalty—devotion, even. He doesn’t have the words to express what he’s feeling or why, but I know destroying Mnemosyne’s mark has opened up more than simply my own memories. Something new is arising in him. Perhaps he’ll be able to take what I say after all.

“Diana, I’m not going to say I understand everything you do—or everything we’ve been through…” he begins, “but what I do know is, this feeling I have for you—it’s deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before. I want to know why—I need to know what’s going on with you. Why the secrecy and mystery?”

His eyebrows tug in and the pulse in his hands throbs against my fingertips.

“Blake, you know those dreams you’ve been having your whole life? The ones you had to start drawing in order to get them out of your mind?”

“Of course,” he says, scrunching his eyebrows in.

“You’re right—you and I have a deeper connection than most,” I say, shaking my head.

I sound like a moron.

“Go on,” he urges.

Pulling his hands closer, I lead him to one of the benches placed out for tourists. It’s not part of the original structure, but I’m grateful for their functionality.

“I believe the reason you’ve been having those dreams—is because of a past life,” I say, watching him closely.

“Hmmm.”

He takes the news with stride but sets his hands in his lap as he considers.

“I know it sounds a bit strange to start it like this, but I need to in order for the rest to make sense,” I say, biting my lower lip.

“Okay, so what’s the rest?” he says, narrowing his eyes.

“The dreams were memories for you—traumatic memories. You—well, the person you once were, anyway—you were murdered in the cavern where we found the girls a long, long time ago.”

“How long?”

“We’re talking Ancient Greece times,” I say sheepishly.

“Alright,” he says, skepticism permeating the word, “and I was—murdered? How would you even know? Is this a vision thing?”

“No, not a vision,” I say, shaking my head. “I was with you.”

“So you have your own reincarnated memories?” he says, trying to understand.

“Not exactly. I was there with you—you and I… we were married,” I say, holding his gaze. If he could only see it in my eyes—if he could only feel my soul—maybe he’d know.

Blake snorts. “But that’s impossible. It would make you—”

“Two-thousand-three-hundred-eighty-four,” I say, my eyebrows arcing high.

“How in the hell?” he says, his words coming out slow.

“I’m—oh hell, there’s really no other way to say it, so I’m just gonna spit it out and sound like a lunatic. I’m the Oracle of Delphi. Like, as in, the Oracle. This is my rightful place and you were once one of the guards for the Temple of Apollo. You were sworn to protect me and the Pythia’s sisterhood—the priestesses who were a part of my inner sanctum because they didn’t have the gift of immortality, the way I do.”

His eyes widen.

“You’re…immortal?”

I nod, my lips tightening.

“It’s kind of a shit deal, if you ask me. Definitely not something I would wish upon anyone else. Though, I guess it has its perks. I heal fast,” I say, winking, then placing my palm over my recent bullet wound.

His eyes brighten with recognition, “Whoa—hold up a minute. You’re telling me, you knew you couldn’t die when you got shot because you can’t die—and you didn’t tell me?”

I shake my head in surprise. Of all the things he’s concerned about, it’s that I didn’t tell him not to worry over me.

“You’re right—I should have told you I heal fast. Maybe it would have prevented some of your dismay. But honestly, there were more pressing concerns, don’t you think?”

“Not overly. The girls were safe. Lester was in custody… And hang on a second—I thought I read once, or maybe it was a History Channel thing…the Oracle of Delphi was stoned to death?” Blake says, tilting his head. “If you’re her and can’t die—I’m so confused.”

“There was a time when I was forced into hiding by the Christians, but they never caught me. I have no doubt they would have tried their best to kill me, though. In reality, those stories, in my opinion, originated to explain my disappearance.”

“Why did you disappear?” he asks, his eyes trained on me.

“That’s where you come back in,” I say, gently.

He makes a face.

“One of my sisters didn’t believe our bond was gifted by Apollo. She felt it was tainting the reputation of the Pythia, as I had handed my innocence over to you. We were married in secret and didn’t flaunt it. There was no need—but naturally, everyone knew anyway,” I say, remembering back to the