Oracle Seeing (The Phoenix Files Book 2) (7 page)

“What does your gut say?”

“That we’re fucked.”

“Bishop! Watch your mouth!”

“Or what? My momma is going to roll over in her grave? Oh wait! She’s not dead. She’s off screwing half of Washington DC in her new life. She can’t roll over. She’s likely handcuffed to a bed.”

He looked appalled.

“Relax. I’m pretty sure everyone who would care if I cursed is focused on the killing—with the exception of you.”

He sighed. “You make me a nervous wreck.”

“This killer should make you a nervous wreck.” She told him about the body, what his granddaughter had found, and how gross the whole thing had been.

He looked horrified.

“I’m waiting on the tox, the trace, the COD, and just about everything else. I can’t move forward until I get something. Right now, it’s about doing the notify, perfecting the fine art of the media blow off, and bracing for what’s coming.”

“Which is?” Silas Reed asked.

“Let’s just say there are three jobs I wouldn’t want in this town right about now.”

He stared at her. “And they are?”

“Yours, mine, or Roxy’s. In the next week, we’re going to be the scapegoats if I don’t get something good with the trace and tox. All I have is a man who might have been pissed his wife was cozied up to the judge.”

“Half of Ravenswood was doing that, Bish. Judge Abrahms liked getting laid. He spent half his time on the bench and the other half under it.”

She was well aware. When she’d become a deputy, her father warned her to avoid the man. The judge liked young, hot women. Honestly, she wouldn’t be shocked if Silas had laid down the law with the judge, protecting her and Roxy.

That’s how he rolled.

“About the judge. Before we go spreading rumors…”

She laughed.

This was fact, and they had the proof. She had received one trace report from the house, and it was of the man’s bed. He had more semen and vaginal fluid in his sheets than at a madam’s whorehouse on a payday.

It was gross.

“As you can see, Silas, I’m waiting on something. Either I can be really patient, or I can be a stark, raving lunatic. That would mean putting pressure on Roxy, and she’s doing all she can. You’re going to have to hang in there.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Great. Then I don’t have to get you a serial killer for Christmas, Grandpa. That makes my shopping so much easier. Fruit of the month club it is.”

He pointed at her, and she winked. It always did his heart good when she called him that. They weren’t blood, but he’d adopt that girl in a heartbeat.

She was touched in the head, but damn good at her job.

“People are already afraid, and they don’t need you stirring the shit pot, Bish. You need to play this one low key.”

“I play everything low key. As a matter of fact…tomorrow, I’ll be in the field doing some investigating, and I’m going to be doing it in jeans and sensible shoes. I can’t go chasing down a killer like this. I’ll break my freaking neck.”

“The rules…”

“Blow, Silas. Cut me a break. I’m likely not sleeping tonight, I’m eating your leftovers, and I’m thinking that naked table dancing in Mexico with a bunch of drug cartel guys would be more fun than what’s coming.”

“Oh, good Lord! Where do you get your imagination?”

She snorted.

Bishop grew up in a house full of men.

That said it all.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been twenty three seconds since my last dirty thought.”

The man behind the desk took out a flask and chugged some of the amber liquid inside.

It made her laugh.

“Yeah, that’s about right. Day one of a case, and you’re drinking in your office, but me wearing sensible shoes is out in left field?”

He chugged again.

“I’m telling Roxy.”

“Go ahead, and then I’m telling her that the night you told her you had a blind date to get her off your ass, you were eating ice cream in your truck.
ALONE
.”

What was wrong with that? Ice cream could be a girl’s best friend, especially when you didn’t have the heart to chase down another man.

She stared at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. I saw you. There was no man around—unless you were hanging with Ben and his BFF Jerry.”

“They don’t give me shit when I show up late,” she said, laughing. “Oh, and they like the threesome. It’s all that licking.”

He chugged again, and she couldn’t help but laugh. She loved making the old man nuts.

It was like a game.

“I’m going to ignore that, and I won’t tell if you don’t,” he offered.

She shook his hand. “Deal.”

“I wish your father was here. If he was, he’d get lucky. That man could solve anything.”

Yeah, except who shot him through his damn window in his own home. No one could figure that one out.

Including her.

“Well, it’s not luck, Silas. It’s called skill. Dad had a shitload, and I lucked out and inherited it. Hang in there, cut me a break, and just try not to get all spaz-y when you see the news.”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“I told you. I’m wearing jeans tomorrow and a t-shirt with some guy smoking a joint.”

With that, she headed out.

“Bishop! Get your ass back in here! You better be yanking my chain! I’ll ground your ass!”

She kept going, all the while laughing. She loved stirring up the mayor. It made her day.

She liked it even more because he was family.

He’d have her back.

But she was still going to have fun with it. That’s just how Bishop played the game.

For now, she was heading home, going to pop the top on a beer, and chill with some autopsy reports.

Yeah, she didn’t need a man.

She had her career.

Or that’s what she told herself until this mess got away from her.

Then she’d have neither.

       
                
* * *
  O R A C L E   * * *

He watched him.

It was easy to find him too.

He lived not far from the judge in the rich part of town. So many of the entitled people, who called themselves representatives of the law, lived there.

The judge.

The lawyers.

The people who thought they had the right to play with people’s lives.

Well, the time had come to make them pay. The judge had screamed his brains out, spilling his guts.

Literally.

Now it was time to go after the next person in the long line of guilty assholes who made him suffer.

This time, it was going to the damn defense attorney. He liked to sit in his expensive office, telling the guilty he’d get them off.

AND HE DID.

To him, he was the worst of the worst. It was bad enough when a lawyer failed, but when they helped get a scumbag set free?

Yeah, he needed to die.

So, he was sitting there, watching the man pull into his driveway.

This one was trickier.

He had a wife.

He also had a mistress, two girlfriends, and some extra pussy on the side.

Well, he thought no one knew, but he did. He’d watched him for ten years, and the time was now.

He’d waited long enough to mourn what he’d lost. From here on out, he was getting revenge.

It started now.

As the man parked his car and headed toward the house with his briefcase in his hand, he wasn’t paying attention to what was going on around him.

That would be his big mistake.

As he headed for the door, that’s when it was time. Walking up behind him, the tire iron in his hand, he waited for just the right moment.

Three.

Two.

One.

He cleared his voice.

The man turned.

That’s when he clocked him upside the head with the metal. He fell backward landing on the concrete step. His blood splashed the white roses in the large urns.

It reminded him of the flowers on the grave.

They were covered in blood too. He’d never look at the flowers the same way again. Life was totally different now, and he’d never be the same.

It pissed him off.

It made him want to rage around.

It made him angry.

Grabbing him by the legs, he dragged him into the grass, across the dark yard, and toward the trees. He had his plans all ready for this one. All he hoped was that he didn’t hit him too hard.

He wanted him to scream.

He wanted him to suffer.

What he wanted was to make the man weep for the things he’d done. Then he might have peace.

The best lawyer was a dead lawyer.

And this one had a special place to go.

Chapter Three

To say that introductions were tense would be an understatement. As soon as the rest of the team approached, the man who lived in the large manor looked spooked.

They had heard what he’d said to Avalon, and they were prepared for the worst.

When they saw him, it wasn’t nearly as bad as they’d thought. Yes, he was a scarred mess, his face ruined by the wounds someone had inflicted on him. Yes, his neck was all burns, likely leading down his chest.

Still, he was human.

In fact, beneath the covering across his face, he was still handsome.

Lucian Monroe wasn’t a monster. He had one eye, and the other was covered with a patch, but really, that’s the most shocking part. The scar had been worked on by some surgeons, and while clear, it wasn’t horrifying.

Inside, he stood in the large mahogany foyer with his body ramrod stiff. As Avalon did the introductions, he seemed ready to bolt.

One by one, they shook his hand.

“I’m Major Maura Gaines-Mars,” she offered, smiling at him. “I’m here to make sure that you and Avalon stay safe.”

He shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Lucian was scared shitless of women. He’d encountered a few after his
‘accident’
, and they all gawked. A few even made gasping sounds.

“What?” she asked, looking around. He was staring at her as if she had three eyes.

“Nothing?” he asked, pointing at his face and neck. “No comment?”

“You have a scar. Get over it. My one team in the Middle East got blown to shit and back. Two of my men lost all of their limbs, and two were in bits. Your injury isn’t anything to write home about, Mr. Monroe. From here, it looks like you got a freaking boo-boo.”

He was shocked by her brashness.

No one had ever said that to him. Oddly, it didn’t upset him.

It actually offered some relief.

Luke shook his head. “I’m Lucas Mars, and I’m her husband. She’s bold. Ignore her. I’m here to work the case with my partner.”

Lucian pointed at the man in the corner. He was strapped with more guns than should be legal. That said a lot about him.

Jagger didn’t approach.

“Who’s he?”

“That’s my wingman,” Maura said, much to Luke’s dissatisfaction. “He’s Captain Jagger Armstrong.”

He saluted with two fingers and a snap of his gum.

Apparently, he wasn’t a man of many words.

“Uh, babe,” Luke said, rewinding the conversation a little bit. “Your wingman? That has a totally different connotation for men.”

She stared at him. “I know what it means. That’s what I meant,” she said busting his ass.

Jagger laughed.

He loved this team. They never ceased to keep him amused. Maura could ride ass, and you never knew it was happening.

“Anyway, Lucian, Jagger is going to hide out around your place, making sure that the team stays safe.”

“Does he talk?”

They all looked over.

“Not unless I’m at gunpoint,” he stated. “I don’t like people. They generally suck. When I talk, I feel like pointing that out. Like right now.”

It helped ease the moment.

Lucian actually laughed.

“I feel like that more often than not, so I completely get that, Jagger.”

Then he focused on the last man there. “And you are?”

“I’m Director Nathaniel Carter, and I’m Luke’s partner. I’m going to find the killer, and then get us the hell out of here before anyone figures out who Avalon is.”

They shook hands.

“Why are you angry?” Lucian asked, the second their hands touched.

Nate didn’t answer.

What was he supposed to say? His girl was smiling at another man—a psychic no less—and he wanted to hurt someone.

Yeah, not a good opener when trying to get on someone’s good side.

“I’m not angry. I’m working this mess. We have to figure out what to do. This is my normal sunny behavior.”

No one bought that, but then again, no one questioned it either.

It wasn’t the time or the place.

Lucian led them into the large sitting area.

“Welcome to my prison.”

No one reacted.

If he was waiting for them to comment, it wasn’t going to happen. Both Maura and Jagger had been POWs at one point. This was absolutely nothing like prison.

They’d all dealt with people in their lives who were having one hell of a pity party, and this man was king of them.

They all took a seat.

“What happened?” Nate asked, keeping a close eye on Avalon. She was pacing back and forth not far from them, and how she knew there was no furniture, he didn’t have a clue. Normally, someone had to help her navigate it.

Nate wasn’t sure he liked this at all. It was as if she was at home in his space.

It was making him edgy.

“We want to help you,” Avalon offered. “Maybe you can tell us about what happened?”

She knew, but the team needed to be briefed, and she wanted to focus.

Lucian took a seat in a wingback chair. “I always get flashes of visions. It’s normal. I sometimes see people leaving a scene of a crime or a gunfight. I’ve never seen anything like this before. It grabbed ahold of me, and I couldn’t escape.”

Luke made notes.

“What are they doing?” Lucian asked, as Maura and Jagger each took a window in the large room.

“Security,” Nate offered.

“I’m safe,” he said.

“She’s not,” Nate offered. “Coming here is dangerous for Avalon. We want to help you, but we have to ensure she’s safe too. That’s one of our top priorities.”

He glanced over at the woman.

She looked distracted.

“She’s listening.”

Nate lifted a brow. “And you know that how?”

“She’s silenced the voices in my head for me. I can think now. Before you got here, I couldn’t focus. She’s listening for me.”

“So you can’t hear anything?”

He thought about it. “I can hear it, but it’s not as loud. It’s as if she’s covering my ears. It’s now only low murmurs.”

“Great. Tell us what you know.”

Lucian gave them everything he had. He didn’t hold back, and that was amazing in itself. Minutes ago, he’d seemed hesitant, but now he was relaxed.

Well, as relaxed as a man, who was seeing murders, could be when he knew more death was coming his way.

“I know this isn’t over,” he offered. “I have a headache right now, and I can feel it beginning.”

“What’s beginning?”

“He’s hunting,” Avalon said, breaking her silence. “The killer has someone in mind. It’s a matter of time. The visions are going to be coming, and soon.”

Lucian agreed with her. “I don’t know if I can survive them,” he said. “They’re like knives being shoved into my brain.”

“You’ll be okay,” Avalon offered. “I can help you.”

She moved closer.

“I really don’t want to do this,” Lucian said. “This part of my life is over. I don’t know why you think I can help you.”

It wasn’t so much that she thought he could help. The universe believed he was the center of this. That’s why it led her right to him.

“We’ll find who’s doing this,” Nate offered. “You do your thing, and let us do ours.”

“If I help, can you leave my name out of it?” he asked. “I want to be forgotten. I don’t want to be seen.”

Luke laughed. “Uh, we want our names out of it. You don’t have to worry about us. We like to stay in the shadows.”

Lucian stared at the man.

“Really, my face doesn’t bother any of you?”

“No.” they all said together.

Lucian thought about it. “Okay, count me in, but only as long as Avalon helps me through it. I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

Nate went to say something, but Luke kicked him in the shin to shut him the hell up.

He knew his partner, and the man had the worst timing. He also got loopy over Avalon. That he got, since he felt the same about Maura when other men were near.

He just knew better.

His wife would kick his ass.

“We’re going to help,” Luke offered.

All of the sudden, Avalon stood up. They all looked over. There appeared to be a breeze around her, blowing her red hair around.

“Avi, what’s wrong?” Nate asked, standing.

“Here they come.”

It was all she got to say.

Lucian grabbed his head, and he screamed. As he dropped to his knees, Avalon crawled toward him on the floor. She took his hands in hers and began whispering to him.

“Just hold on. Just hold on.”

Everyone watched in horror as the man was writhing in agony.

“Stop. The. Pain!”

Avalon couldn’t.

But she could use it to hone in on the killer. So, that was what she did. She dove in, praying that she could help or Lucian wasn’t going to survive this.

At all…

       
                
* * *
  O R A C L E   * * *

He took his time with the man.

At one time, the heap of meat had a name—now not so much. Dale Plunkett had been a defense attorney, but that was then.

Now he was nothing more than a ruined pile of flesh.

There was no mercy.

He cut off his ears.

He chopped off his fingers.

All while he was alive.

To him, the man deserved it. When he was screaming and writhing in pain, he offered up all the people who deserved to suffer alongside him.

It was perfect.

As he died in that quivering pile of pathetic-ness, it was time to put the body where they’d find him.

That was the goal.

In order to give a message, they needed to locate the man.

The only place he really thought would be justice wasn’t a good choice, so he went with somewhere else.

He went with his gut.

There was another attorney who deserved to suffer for all the years of letting the people down.

So, it was decided.

He would make sure that before dawn, when it was safe to do the deed, that he placed Dale where he would be forever memorialized.

Then he laughed, checking one more off his list. This was perfect. They were dropping like flies.

He couldn’t wait to finish the list.

Once he did, he’d have his revenge.

He’d make it all right.

Then he could be at peace. Their eternal torment was his only way past this, and it was coming.

One way, or another.

       
                
* * *
  O R A C L E   * * *

Graymoor Manor

When the screaming had final stopped, the team was relieved. As hard as Avalon tried to help the man, she wasn’t able to stop the pain.

It looked wicked.

They’d been forced to watch as Lucian appeared to be living out each and every blow that the victim was feeling. Avalon, clutching his hand, was suffering too.

Beads of perspiration were on her brow.

Her pale eyes went even less blue.

They were both in a shitload of duress, and the team felt helpless as they were forced to watch.

Then...

It all stopped.

There was a collective gasp in relief, and they were finally okay.

“What happened?” Nate asked, helping Avalon up from the floor. She was limp, weak, and looked like she’d done battle for the man’s soul.

He hated seeing her suffer.

If he could take her place, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d carry this burden for the woman he loved.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she placed her palm over his cheek.

It calmed him.

Maura helped Lucian up. “What can I get for you?” she asked.

“I need something to settle my nerves before we talk about it.”

He glanced at the liquor cabinet.