Damian's Oracle Part 8

She stared at him and edged around the kitchen island. Sofia darted for the door, but he s.n.a.t.c.hed her arm. His visions were more than just his death; they were the first person experience of torturing and killing of many, many others, as if she were mutilating others. She staggered under the weight of them, dropping to her knees.

He released her.

"I think you see what I am about," he said.

Tears streamed down her face as screams echoed in her mind.

"I can carry you or you can walk out."

"Walk," she managed, shuddering at the lingering visions that left an acrid taste in her mouth.

"Let's go."

She pushed herself off the floor and rose. The kind of creature that could do such things to other men left her no doubt he'd do the same to her if she didn't obey. She shivered and hugged herself as they emerged into the cold Virginia dawn.

A chauffer opened the door to a town car as they neared the street.

Run! Run!

As if hearing her thoughts, Czerno gripped her arm again. Sofia sagged, crippled by the burning visions. He shoved her into the car, and she crawled as far from him as she could.

They merged into traffic. Czerno raised the privacy gla.s.s with the push of a b.u.t.ton.

"Tell me, love, just how powerful are you?"

She shook her head.

"Still transforming, I see."

And he smiled, a cold smile that did not reach the death in his eyes.

Damian turned the cell back on and emerged from the Marriott's conference room, the random place chosen by his spy chief for this week's intelligence briefing. The situation in Europe plagued him, as did the declining number of Guardians. This would be the first year he'd gone into the negative in a thousand of years. He was losing established Guardians mostly in Europe and an entire cla.s.s of new recruits.

Dusty's suggestion of bringing in every regional commander and station chief for interrogation was sounding better. As a former a.s.sa.s.sin and interrogator, Dusty didn't much care for people to begin with. Dusty's skills were legendary, but Damian had held off on what he considered a reign of terror for his regional commanders. Dusty's interviewees rarely lived through the ordeal, and he wasn't yet ready for that step.

His cell rang before it could upload the number of voicemails and texts.

"I'm done, Han. What's up?"

"This message is from Dusty. He wants to know what the f.u.c.k you were doing that you couldn't answer your phone."

"I'll call him," he promised.

"We have a serious issue," Han said in a flat voice. "You need to get to NOVA now."

"Consider me there."

Han had never led him astray in the thousands of years as his XO. He waited until he was out of sight of the hotel's cameras before blinking.

"'bout time," Dusty said.

Damian accepted his hand in greeting, looking around. The room was as still as a graveyard despite the dozen Guardians there. Dusty had called in the entire sector. If he were personally involved in the operation, something was very, very wrong.

"I think this is yours," Dusty said and handed him a few surveillance pictures taken of one of Czerno's safe houses in northern Virginia and an apartment building.

Damian froze as he saw the photo of Czerno dragging Sofia to a car.

"How the f.u.c.k did she get to Virginia?!" he roared.

"She flew," Dusty said, leveling a look on Jake, who stood in a corner with his head bowed.

Furious his order had been disobeyed, Damian started for the young Guardian. Dusty planted a hand in his chest.

"D, we need to get to her now. We know what he's planning," he said quietly, calmly. "You hear me? We know where he's taking her."

Damian met Dusty's clear blue eyes, blood boiling.

"C'mon, bro. If he finishes with her before we get there ... "

They were f.u.c.ked. Damian forced himself to calm down, though he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around the newbie's neck. The thought of Sofia in Czerno's hands did worse than anger him he felt fear for the first time in millennia.

"You know where she is," he said.

"Yes."

"We'll do this your way, Dusty. We raze the place. No survivors."

"We'll drop you in first," Dusty said. "Whatever you don't destroy, we will. I called in the DC Sector for support as well."

"He's going with me," Damian said, indicating Jake.

"Agreed. Jake, prep yourself. You've got half an hour."

It was a death sentence, and Damian saw the realization in Jake's eyes before the newbie left for the weapons room. The other Guardians filed out in silence befitting a funeral.

"He's the only one at station who can Transport," Dusty reminded him.

"I don't give a d.a.m.n. If we can't un-f.u.c.k what he did, Czerno will destroy humanity overnight."

And Sofia.

"I'll put out a recruitment requirement for a new Transporter," Dusty said and begin handing him weapons.

Damian pulled off his sweater to reveal a black t-shirt and tucked weapons into his cargo pants, boots and pockets. They were silent, aware this would be one of the most crucial battles they'd encountered in ages.

"Is she like the oracles in your father's court?" Dusty asked. "Does she understand how important her gift is?"

"Not yet," Damian admitted. "She's this s.e.xy little thing with beautiful eyes. Lots of s.p.u.n.k and stubborn as an ox. Nice rack, killer legs. So sweet and innocent. Were we ever innocent?"

"Nope. We were damaged goods when we were dropped onto this planet."

He felt Dusty's thoughtful gaze on him and looked up from strapping a gun to his ankle.

"Watsup?" he asked, straightening.

Dusty shook his head, though Damian saw his faint smile.

"Bro, watsup?"

"Either you need a woman real bad or there's something special about this one."

"Hey now, don't insult my oracle," Damian warned. "a.s.suming she survives tonight."

He ignored Dusty's intent look, aware his BFF knew when he was avoiding answering his question. Dusty was right on both accounts: he needed a woman, and she was special. He didn't dare mess with an oracle, though. It was common sense: never p.i.s.s off the woman who could see the future, lest she alter it and make your life h.e.l.l. Thousands of years hadn't given him much insight into a woman's way of thinking, but this he knew without a doubt.

"As if the European front wasn't enough," Dusty muttered.

"Tell me about it. After this is over, I'll tell you about the Guardian recruitment stats."

"G.o.ds."

"Yeah."

Hang in there, Sofia.

CHAPTER SIX.

They drove west, away from DC. She watched the scenery turn from urban to rural and recognized the roads leading up to Skyline Drive, the scenic route running through the mountains of northern Virginia. The town car moved at a quick pace, bringing them to a mansion atop one of the private, gated drives tucked away from sight along Skyline Drive.

Czerno motioned her out of the car as it stopped in front of the Georgian-style manor house. It was full daylight, and she was already in pain despite the heavily tinted windows.

The daylight almost dropped her to her knees. She staggered against the car, cringing away from Czerno as he s.n.a.t.c.hed her arms and dragged her to the house. He released her and tossed his coat to a waiting maid before motioning her to follow.

She followed, heart racing. She pa.s.sed several men with guns hidden in the alcoves of doors as she walked. Upon pa.s.sing the first, she realized they weren't men at all. No human's eyes glowed red, and their inhuman growls as she pa.s.sed resembled those of animals. They watched her like they intended to make her their dinner. She hurried to follow Czerno, silently praying Jake ratted her out to Damian.

There were two other men in the study Czerno led her to. The door closed behind her, and he pointed to a chair. She sat, taking in the Goth decor that made the study as welcoming as a graveyard. The other two men gazed at her. One was of medium height and slender, an older man with sharp green eyes the color of forest moss who seemed out of place in the middle of the room. The second was closer to Han's age with midnight hair and eyes.

Neither looked friendly. She stayed the urge to curl up in her chair, jumping when a shadow with lopsided shoulders emerged from the corner dressed like an executioner in black hood and gloves.

"Jilian, check her," Czerno ordered. "Two, prep the room."

The man in the black hood left while the man with midnight hair and eyes approached. She blinked, shocked when he walked through the man with the green eyes, as if he weren't there. Jilian wrenched her up. Visions slammed into her, each one as vivid as the next, the sights, smells, sounds. He was Czerno's personal hitman, an executioner with no heart or soul.

"Unbound," Jilian said, releasing her.

She dropped into her chair, shaking.

"I'm impressed," Czerno said. "Bylun's gone soft."

"If he didn't act, there's a reason," Jilian observed.

"If he didn't act, I will," Czerno responded. "Prep her, quickly. Damian's not gonna sit around for this one."

Jilian grabbed her again, and she grated her teeth against the visions, staggering as she tried to keep upright. He led her down the stairs into a bas.e.m.e.nt that looked more like a dungeon. One well-lit room gleamed with stainless steel. Until she saw the blood on the walls and ceiling, she thought it was a surgical room.

The torture room from her visions. Panic gripped her, and she tried to bolt. Jilian s.n.a.t.c.hed her and slammed her onto the table, pinning her in place as he strapped her wrists and ankles in.

"Please don't - " she cried, yanking at her arms and legs.

"Shut up. The more noise you make, the worse I make it for you."

She shut up, breathing raggedly. He retrieved a jar from the small refrigerator and laid it next to a surgical knife, a large rubber tube, and a huge syringe.

Oh, G.o.d, oh G.o.d, oh, G.o.d!! Sofia pulled again at her bindings and closed her eyes against the blood splatters on the ceiling.

"What are you going to do?" she whispered.

"You're the oracle."

"I only see other people's fates, not mine."

"You see mine?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"You die."

Horribly. At Damian's hands. That Damian was capable of the same level of violence as these men reminded her that this world was nothing like hers.

Jilian laughed.

"Guess they forgot to tell you I'm immortal," he said. "Only Czerno or Damian can kill me."

I'm sorry, Jake. I'm sorry, Damian.

"I'm going to drain your blood," he said conversationally. "You should be grateful. Czerno wants this done his way, not mine."