Oracle: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Series (A Diana Hawthorne Supernatural Mystery Book 1) Carissa Andrews (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) š
- Author: Carissa Andrews
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Perhaps Blakeās rightāmaybe itās a completely isolated event. It seems that way so far, at any rate.
All I know is, when this is all over, Iāll need to do some heavy-duty chakra clearingā¦
A couple of blocks away from the eighties-style houseāor maybe itās a cabin, Blake slows the vehicle down to a normal speed. His facial expressions flits back and forth, as he works out exactly how to go about things. I watch him, enthralled despite myself. Ordinarily, in this close proximity, Iād be hearing snippets of everythingāunless I specifically warded my own mind from the barrage.
Finally, he parks the car in the driveway and cuts the lights.
āYou sure thisās the place?ā he asks, turning back to me.
In the light of the waxing moon, the house stands nearly silent. Only a single sign of life inside is evident; the television set in the living room as it flickers with the commotion of whatever the manās watching. Heās on the edge of drifting off to sleep; cheap whiskey the culprit at this early hour. My eyes flit to the clockāitās just barely gone 9:00pm.
I nod, taking a deep breath.
āAlrightāstay here. Trust me, Iāve got this covered,ā Blake says. āItās not my first rodeo.ā
Before he can exit the Rover, glimpses of the Esther asleep inside the cabin flood in. Sheās clutching a tattered teddy bearāitās not hers, but it reminds her of home. The puppy is curled up beside her. The space is tinyābut the sound of the TV creeps into the small enclosure in muffled bursts.
āBlake,ā I call out before the door closes.
āYeah?ā he says, twisting to look inside the vehicle.
āSheās in thereāin a small room. Maybe a closet?ā
His lips press into a thin line, and he nods. āSheās okay, though. Right? Alive?ā
I nod.
With a tip of his head, Blake closes the door and saunters up to the front entry. Despite myself, Iām mesmerized by his walk.
Damn, those jeans definitely suit him.
I run my hands over my face and close my eyes.
Get a grip, Diana. This is the same jerk who pushed you into the puddle and stormed your house.
Blake knocks on the door, and after a moment, a light flicks on in the entryway. A second or two later, an older manānearly seventy by the looks of itāopens the door. His grey hair is matted against his forehead, and he looks as though he hasnāt changed his dirty grey shirt in days.
The manās got a gun stashed nearby and isnāt too keen on strangers. Especially ones who knock on his door as night is falling. Especially pickup nights.
Reaching for the handle of the Rover, I pull up short. Something must have been said to appease the manās initial skepticism, because he opens the door wider and letās Blake inside. He doesnāt look back my way at all, just waltzes straight in.
The moment the front door is closed, mine is open, and Iām on my feet.
I donāt care how much this Blake guy thinks he has this under controlāIām not about to sit this one out. A little girlās life depends on it.
4
FOLLOWING MY INTERNAL GUIDANCE, I creep from the Range Rover to the back side of the house. With Blake occupying the creep inside, I should be able to slip in and out with Esther relatively easily. In fact, Iād wager itāll be done way faster than Blake trying to fumble around in whatever manhandling kinda way heās used to.
Thanks to Blakeās stunt earlier on his own front door, I check the handle on the back doorāfinding it unlocked. Images of sleeping children with pillowcases placed over their heads barrage my mind, but I push past them and shut their assault down. There will be time to deal, and make this monster suffer. Justā¦not yet.
Holding my breath, I slip quietly inside.
After all of these years, one thing Iāve learned to do well is sneak about unnoticed. Call it another one of my gifts, if you want.
The stench of alcohol and decomposing food assaults my senses as I enter the kitchen. Certainly a stark contrast to the outside appearance. Pieces of the laminated floor are missing, and others are peeling up in large chunks. It doesnāt look as though anything has been cleaned for years. Beyond the grungy kitchen, Blake and the man are discussing something in hushed voices.
I try to reach out, to get a better idea of his plan, as well as try to anticipate their next movements. Unfortunately, whatever block I have with Blake influences everything going on in the other room.
Talk about inconvenient.
Training my ears their direction, my eyes flit from wall to wall as I search for the hidden doorway from my vision. Rather than focusing on the men, I take a moment, trying to train my senses on Estherāusing her as a needle; telling me whether or not Iām getting close.
I close my eyes and broaden my awareness so it blankets the houseāsearching each crevice and corner. It settles on the wall in the main hallway, separating the living room from the rest of the house with a large staircase. Sheās under the stairs. Of course, heās kept her close.
I tiptoe closer, scanning the wall on this side of the hallway for the hidden doorwayābut itās no use. Iām pretty sure itās on the other sideāwhere, of course, the men are.
āThere are a lot of crazies out this way, to be sure,ā Blakeās voice filters to my ears. āGlad to hear youāre staying safe.ā
āYeah, I dunno about none oā that, but I āpreciate ya stompingāer, stopping in,ā the man says, his words garbled and slurred.
A small scuffle shudders through the hall as someone gets out of a chair in the other room.
āMind if I use your bathroom quick? Gotta take a piss,ā Blake says.
I take a step closer. If the man shows him where the bathroom is, maybeājust maybeāIāll have access to the living room long enough to get Esther out.
āDo what ya gotta do. Sādown the hall on the
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