Oracle's Legacy: Shadows of Fate (Book 2)

1

Atlanta, Georgia

Smoothing her hand over the afghan, the Oracle marveled at the oranges and reds of the crocheted pattern. They blended like sunset, melding in harmony even though different. Her people were like this blanket, blending and melding.

No, her people were nothing like this blanket. They had no harmony and no warmth. How could such a people lead the world to unity if they were divided themselves?

She pulled the afghan up to her neck, snuggled under it, and closed her eyes. The visions of those she wanted to see were getting blurrier. The visions of everyone else were still clear and their voices still called to her. And though she was usually happy to hear from her husband, his was the loudest voice.

Bethea

He was relentless, no matter how she tried to ignore him. She had cut her ties with him, so he could not visit her, but she still allowed herself to feel his mind.

Bethea, where are you? What have you done? What game are you playing? Where is my daughter? Where is Ollie? Where is she?

He had been calling to her for weeks using every energy channel available to him. And she had held her ground just the same. Tuning him out, she let her mind silence. Sometimes it was best to be in the quiet of her own mind, not allowing the visions to influence or hurt her. Even the strongest of people need a rest sometimes.

But not even the silence of her mind could shut out the pain. She sighed as her heart ached.

Ollie was changed: death. Her precious daughter was gone. Her daughter was one of nineteen children, but Ollie was just as special as each of the other eighteen. She had touched all of them. But her sacrifice and trials served a larger purpose. It brought back the Void. He walked among them once again. Not as he once was, but still the power flowed through him. And the carefree daughter…just the thought of what purpose she served was frightening.

The destruction of the Structure would begin.

House Moon has turned its allegiance to that very purpose. But most of the Pillars of the Structure were preparing to stop it, because they sought Uni'ki. And Uni'ki was a dream of unity that was wrong. All that was left for her to do was watch and wait, since her hands were tied.

Feeling an odd presence, she opened her eyes. Someone was watching her. He was not in the room or anywhere she could see him, but his energy saw her with eyes staring from a concealed location.

And he knew she knew. A smile came to his lips. A smile?

There was only one person whose power could find her without her permission. Only one. But she wasn't used to him smiling. She opened her mind and drew him to her careful of the energy barrier in the room.

Creed. Her thoughts greeted the Level Four Moon who had ordained her Oracle and trained her in everything she would need to know for the position.

You're well. His thoughts were a whisper in her mind.

I did not think you would visit. She graciously returned his smile. Though she was more powerful and in a higher position than he was now, she still respected him for all he did for her and for his guidance. And for his age.

Hmmm, I am impressed that you are the only Oracle to accomplish the Void's resurrection. Though three thousand years overdue.

A compliment, almost.

Bethea, energy…is only as merciful as its living host. So if energy has no living host, it can be quite…unforgiving. And when energy tries to find balance, its cruelty knows no limit. None. Pompeii is a good example…or Uni'ki.

She already had this knowledge, so where was he going with this lesson? Her eyes gazed around the dimness of the room. She turned lights on with her mind, illuminating her penthouse prison.

The order of things won't be satisfied with the Structure's fall. The darkness we dream of, that we feared would happen if the Structure's fate was not met, is becoming a reality. Tesen's prophecy warned us. Creed's smile faded.

She had already accepted the damage that the past had caused and the repercussion fast approaching. It was coming.

Muscles aching, bones creaking, and joints praying, she slowly rose from her recliner, letting the blanket fall to the floor. Fear of her own knowledge trickled down her sweaty brow. What are you saying?

His mind was confident with the answer. I can no longer aid you. The balance of this world has been unstable for too long. My attention will go elsewhere, because you and I both know not enough of the Structure will be left to rebuild a new society if I don't.

He was abandoning her. Though it hurt, the living needed him now more than she.

I understand. She sighed.

I knew you would. Though your term of Oracle was the shortest, you were the most resolute of them. Anyone who could sacrifice her own family, as you did, deserves the honor I give you.

His words held a cruelty that slapped her in the face. She wanted to lash out at him, but he was right. As painful as it was, she had done nothing more than her job, for the benefit of humanity. Just as he had taught her.

What is this honor? Her thoughts were bitter, but she curbed the sting she wanted to pin him with.

I bring news. Your blurring future sight is not because you are dying, it is because of death. None of us will see the future for long. The stronger she gets the harder it will be to see our destiny.

Yes, but why? How could such energy limit what they saw in the future? Then how will the future be saved if no one can see it? She let her mind stare into his dark cold eyes.

Brutal laughter echoed through her. Maybe she doesn't want it saved. Or maybe she is tired of meddlesome people like you and me messing with it. Whatever the reason, it will be an interesting game. You do what you must, as shall I. If we succeed, the Structure might, indeed, survive in some way. But is that what you want?

No empire stands forever. She understood that. That was why she had to bring back the Void. And if any civilization tries to last, balance will find a way to bring it down. Energy was not good or evil, but its existence was a flawless cycle. Uni'ki, the first of their kind, understood this. Energy embodied everything in countless forms. It created and destroyed, ebbed and flowed. It was beyond intelligence and beyond supreme worship. Pure and simple: it was balance. Even in chaos, it was order. When wars were sparked, it was not the energy of evil men, but of the world correcting itself. Energy balanced. If it rained in one part of the world, it did not in another. If one man went hungry, another man was well fed. Balance. And if the balance tipped in favor for one thing too long, then it would correct itself violently.

If everything could come into perfect balance, nothing in excess or lacking, then energy would be at peace. No high, no low, no stop, no go. It would be Nirvana. But living creatures could never accept such a paradise. This defined the eternal struggle and Bethea's part in it.

Creed's presence began to fade.

There is no winning or success. She sighed before stooping, picking up her blanket, and sitting back in her chair ever so slowly, so that her bones would not ache too much. She settled into the cushions.

Winning…we will see. Keep your eyes on the darkness a little longer, my old pupil. His whispering thoughts dissipated.

The darkness they dreamed of, and feared, was more heartless than the Void. And far more destructive. The Void swallowed energy whole, keeping it intact, disconnecting a minority from the majority like slicing a branch off a tree. But the darkness they all dreaded shattered energy to the point that nothing was recognizable. Like shattering a mirror. There would be no whole left, just devastation. Leaving nothing recognizable. A power that knew only destruction.

But all sides must at least put up a good fight against such destruction. What would be the point of watching a one-sided war?

Bethea clutched her afghan closer as her mind reached out past the window and looked into the night sky over the city of Atlanta. Her eyes and mind stretched to their limits. She and Creed had taken their positions in the upcoming chaos, just like the others. Each wanting something different, yet striving for the same things -- to protect what they loved. There was one final piece left to be played, before the real game began.

Dropping the barrier in her mind and around her heart, she let the shadow in. Jamali, you must protect your family. Or they will be killed.

()()()

The Order of the Oracle Training Facility, Switzerland

He squatted quietly on the floor close to the wall in the medical lab, arms resting on bent knees, balancing perfectly on the balls of his feet, admiring the body that lay on the examination table, covered with a crisp, white sheet. The healing process was taking far too long to please him. He wanted her in fighting shape. And still she wasn't ready.

His skin crawled with the need to destroy the monsters in his mind, and she was the only one capable of doing it. She was the one who could destroy it all. And he was going to make sure she did. His thoughts screamed with impatience, as his muscles tensed. He pulled a knife from his hip holster. Pain was a way to make a person react in unusual ways.

His chest rose and fell with silent laughter as he glanced down at the cold steel. Good, good. Just one jab, and she'll wake off that bed in so much pain she'd come back to this world, and to you.

About to stand, his skin twitched, hairs standing on end. The air had changed, but why? The girl hadn't returned. The sheet covering the sleeping body lifted with a startling, painful pull of air. His heart jump-started. Was she finally awake?

A melodious sound of sheer pain vibrated against the walls. Her body fell back on the table hard as she coughed, cringed, and groaned, trying to still herself.

Don't fight it.

But that is what she does. She fights. And he was going to enjoy breaking that fight.

Her curly head jolted up. Did she remember? It took everything in him not to laugh and cheer. Did she remember him and their last beautiful moments together? As she blinked, looking around wildly, he noticed her sight still hadn't returned. Her eyes weren't that same glowing green in the left and engulfing flame in the right. She appeared too normal, even with one green and one amber eye.

Good, good. You could use that to your advantage. As long as she is weaker than you, you can bend her and mold her.

But first, he had to break her.

As she waved her hand in front of her face, he wondered if she knew about her condition.

Hello? she finally called with a throat full of gravel. Hey! she shouted, her hands feeling about the steel platform she was lying on. She was exploring her surrounding even though she was vulnerable. Such a lack of fear.

Good girl. He thought to himself. Show me how strong you are, so I know how much of you I need to break. I need to destroy all that strength. Show me more.

Clasping the sheet that had covered her, she slowly sat up and wrapped it around her long, sleek body. He tilted his head in admiration at the way she tested the area around her that she couldn't see. Cautiously, she lowered her legs to the floor and grimaced.

It couldn't have hurt you to put carpet in this cold bastard, she said as if to him. Did she know he was there? Of course not, or she would be livid.

She steadied her body to stand fully on her legs, and he smiled to himself, knowing her legs weren't going to be of much help. Not after lying there so long. And sure enough, as soon as she was on her feet, she began to fall backward, reaching out desperately, grabbing for anything. He held the laughter to himself as her ass hit the tiled floor with a bam.

Will someone please, please have the courtesy to tell me where the hell I am? She sounded too reasonable, but he knew she was frustrated. He could taste it on the air. And he loved its sweet flavor.

With closed eyes, the caramel-skinned beauty began to crawl around the room. She still wasn't giving up. Hmmm. With splayed fingers, her hands searched the walls, looking for something, an exit maybe. You're here to stay. There is no other place where you belong other than here with me.

He had claimed her by right. He made sure she was brought back, and he was the one to make sure she was healed, so she belonged to him. All of her.

She continued to feel along the walls, until she found a table and then the surgical tools. Well, now wasn't this getting interesting? She grabbed a scalpel from the table. Always prepared, right?

She was whetting his appetite something fierce. It was all he could do to keep from moving, from giving away his presence. And then she began to inch closer to him…closer…ever so close, until she paused right next to him. Her closeness tickled against his skin as fear laced the air. And it tasted more decadent than any sin he'd devoured.

With so much apprehension, even his gut clenched as she slowly reached out to him. She knew he was there, and yet she had no idea. His lips curled into a smile of anticipation. Her fingers touched his arm, trailing over it lightly until the fear spiked to an orgasmic high. She jerked back, and he couldn't help but let his amusement erupt from his chest.

Did you enjoy the show, you sadistic asshole? She spit fire as her grip tightened on her newfound weapon.

Oh, how he enjoyed it. Sharp as ever, He said moving closer, making sure she didn't escape.

Where am I? She asked. She scooted back, knowing his closeness. It thrilled him for her to be so aware of him. But it was time for her to be aware of some other things as well. Like her unavoidable situation.

Aren't you going to ask why you can't see?

Shit. Her curse was soft, but stung with spite.

He reached out and touched the soft skin of her cheek, then jumped back when she tried her hardest to stab him with that scalpel.

Can't have that. He laughed, sliding the weapon from her grip. I see your fight has returned. Goodie. The harder she fought, the more he would enjoy stripping her of her pride.

What did you do to me? Her voice was pure acid.

He moved around her on his hands and knees, inhaling her antiseptic scent. He closed in by her ear, wanting to taste it. I had the pleasure of killing you and watching you die. She jerked back from him, hitting her head on the wall. He laughed so hard his stomach began to knot. This is too much fun.

I'll kill you.

You'll try. And he would enjoy every attempt. Just being close to her malice aroused him. Grabbing her arms, he stood, taking her with him. He could sense a struggle rising in her, so he slammed her into the wall, making sure she understood her position: submission.

"Let me go!" she squirmed.

His gaze caressed her body, thrashing about earnestly for freedom. This was perfect. You belong to me, now, to do with as I wish. She clumsily kicked her stiff legs. If you calm down, I might humor you and tell you about your funeral.

The fiery woman cooled instantly. My what?

His attention shifted to her thick, ripe lips, and he drew closer.

How long…? she finally asked.

You were dead for four days.

She turned her head away from him. If he didn't have her body caged, she would be across the room by now, trying to get away from him. He wanted her to fight, but then, he wanted her to give in, make it easy, so he could enjoy that, too.

My family?

Why the hell did she bring them up? They'll be fine. It takes a while for people to cope with death.

The fire returned in an explosion that gripped his groin. "Shit! You lousy muthafucker, let me go!"

He tightened his grip to make sure his sexy weapon didn't escape as she fought. No. He followed that tasty-looking ear. You belong to me. Who do you think dug your sorry ass up? And as far as your family is concerned, they're safe as long as they know you're dead. And as long as they stayed away from what was his.

Mine. You belong to me.

What are you going to do with me? She calmed down, as if resigned to the fact.

Shit, this was no fun. She should have fought harder. Especially knowing how important her family was to her. What was she up to?

Good, good. If she wants to know what you are going to do with her, then humor her.

I'm going to make you perfect. When I get through with you, you'll be so obedient that all I'll need to do is pull your strings. My own weapon of death.

He stepped back, releasing her, and smiled as she slid to the floor. He could smell her hate, like boiling sewage. It was refreshing. She might be subdued for now, but she would fight. And he would adore ripping that will of hers to shreds and then burning anything that was left. He got goosebumps just thinking about it.

Though he cherished her fight, worshipped it, he couldn't use it for what he desired. He needed her to be obsessed with him in every way that mattered. That was the only way he could use her.

Good, good. And to do so, you will have to make her hate you, completely. Submerge her in a hate so deep she won't think of anything else but you.

Right. A hate so deep her family would be nothing more than a memory. A hate so deep and desperate it would transform and bloom into the most volatile of loves.

Yes, that is what he needed from her.

Love…so meaningless.

()()()

Ollie wondered how in the hell she was going to get out of the mess she was in. Her family thought she was dead, according to the Demon. And for all intents and purposes, she was. She had been dead for four days. And now she was alive again. Who said lightening didn't strike the same place twice. Did she hold the record for dying yet?

Her memories kept nagging at her. Names, places, dates, but she didn't understand why these memories were important. What about these people she knew as family made them important to her? It was frustrating. She knew them and yet she didn't. Maybe she really was dead. The only real emotion she relished right now was loathing for Demon's Wrath. Fear peaked for a moment when she learned she was blind, but that emotion faded when she decided to overcome that obstacle and get at that bastard. Blind?

Remembering the Demon's filthy hands on her, she cringed. He watched, enjoying how she made a fool of herself. If she only had her strength and sight, she'd torture him.

The pressure in her ears released. She perked up as an unsealing sound came, but it sounded far off. Then she heard another sealing sound like a lid being peeled off an airtight plastic container. It came from inside the room, far from where she was sitting.

Oh, my…I…Ollie…I didn't know you were… That voice…she couldn't place it. It was an odd light accent, with a lilt. Like a mix of German and… Asian? This was someone far friendlier then the Demon. Um…I just went to eat… I didn't think you would be awake so soon, after the night you had last night…I mean…

Last night?

Please, forgive me. I had no intention of leaving. Please… From the self-conscious way she rambled on, and the soft uncertain tone, Ollie began to draw a picture in her mind of who this woman was. The memories showed a short woman whose mother and father were Bengali. She had last seen the girl about nine years ago, when she was ten. She had had long, black, wavy hair and a chubby face. Her lashes were long. Her greenish brown eyes were large and kittenish. What was the girl's name? Lily? No, but it was a type of lily.

Her mother, who was half-German, had moved to Europe after her husband died. This happened right before the girl was born. And her mother named the girl after…it was a flower. A water lily? The national flower of Bangladesh…Shapla. That was her name, but that is not what Ollie called her. She was no water lily. She was awkward and clumsy, but smart, with the eyes of a hunter. This girl was a different type of lily.

…I must pay better attention…or…

Tiger, what the hell is going on? she snapped. The stammering woman fell silent.

Did you call me…your memory has... she squealed in complete joy. It didn't take as long as I previously thought. Amaz--

Did you hear me, or am I mute as well? Ollie growled, rubbing the sides of her head. "Dammit, I'm blind, naked, cold, confused as hell, and harassed by that damn Demon. So bring me up to speed, and tell me why the hell I'm blind?"

Y-y-yes ma'am, The girl's feet shuffled about the room. I'll…ummm…

Where's George? Ollie asked while the girl scurried.

Around here somewhere.

Ollie exhaled a rush of relief. At least her cousin was around. He wouldn't let Demon's Wrath get too carried away. Although few had the balls to stand up to the sadist.

And where am I?

Swiss Moon base. Her answer was followed by a clanking, a grunt, and then a sound of something metal sliding and scraping across the floor. Maybe a table or chair.

What happened to me?

Your energy could not regenerate your body fast enough. Your T-Cells were replicating at an abnormal rate, attacking your DNA. Your RNA was deform--

Ollie groaned. I only understand bad English. So make this short and sweet.

You died.

Yes, that bastard already told me that, but how is that possible? Especially four freakin' days. How am I here talking to you?

"Well… um… the best way I know to explain it is… usdeeb."

"Us- huh?"

Well. There was silence. "It is basically extinct but I will try to explain. Usdeeb is an ancient technique that was once performed by Uni'kiites before the joining."

Huh? Ollie played dumb now, as she recalled something Creed had taught her. There is a way to enlighten while reflecting on life and death in complete neutrality. Those of the pre-Structure knew about it. Only a few are capable of using this technique, and mastering it…What else was it he said?

"Usdeeb is a trance like…suspended animation…sleep…"

I was in a coma?

No and yes. The girl made a low humming sound. Clinically you were dead, but your energy sustained you and…cocooned you in perfect preservation. Nothing advancing, but nothing deteriorating.

A damn mummy.

"A perfect mummy."

How did I do it if I didn't know how?

Um…ah…c-can't say.

But how did she know about it without knowing how Ollie got into that state?

You said I was awake before, Ollie said.

Oh. Yes, after I revived you, but…but you had none of your faculties. The girl seemed to be very cautious about what she was saying and not saying.

Was she being monitored?

I don't recall waking up before or even dying or whatever. Ollie rubbed her forehead, wishing she could see. And wishing she could do something that didn't hurt. Her whole body ached. Grenades were going off under her skin and in her bones. A platoon stomped in her head, firing missiles against her muscles. War was hell.

"Your energy is still repairing you. All you can do is wait until it's finished. But at the rate you're going it shouldn't be long. Especially being as close as you are to Pillar status."

What? Ollie felt one particular pain all over but it didn't feel like the pain from the bruising, so she couldn't tell how much her seal had spread. She couldn't see it, nor could she feel her energy like she once did. It was like being cut off from all her senses, not just sight.

Can I get some clothes? Ollie asked, not wanting to be nude, just in case she was being watched. And she had a skin-crawling feeling she was.

Moments passed before Tiger finally answered. Yes, I'll go get them for you. Feet shuffled, a door slid open, the air shifted, and the door slid shut. That silence before she left…she must have been getting permission from someone. And I wonder who?

You son of a bitch, what kind of leash do you have Tiger on? Ollie asked, knowing Demon's Wrath was still in the room.

His laughter sickened her as it thundered around the room. Unlike you, she is very obedient.

Like a damn dog. That's why I asked about the leash. You're as slow as always. Why are you still here?

I told you. You belong to me now. And I'm going to train you.

Like Hell. Ollie proceeded to stand up, but her legs were weak, so she reached back to the wall. Clinging to it by her fingertips, she used it as support to pull herself upright. Feeling pain in her legs, she wondered how far the door was. Step by stiff step, she began to walk, holding onto her sheet with one hand and feeling around with the other. Her feet knotted in the sheet, and before she could untangle them, her knees gave way. Landing on her hands and knees on the floor, she lay down, as laughter echoed in the room. Bitch. She huffed, worming out of the sheet.

That's more like it. His voice carried suggestion as she wiggled free of the sheet. She slid across the cold floor, in her birthday suit then climbed to her feet, trying to remember what direction the door was in. Damn.

The pressure in the room changed again and the door slid open. Um…oh, Tiger sounded surprised. It must have something to do with the bare-assed beauty queen in the middle of the floor. If she struck a pose for the pervert and the priss, it might brighten their day.

Clothes? Ollie turned toward Tiger's voice and cautiously made her way in that direction.

Y-yes, be careful of the examination equipment. Tiger's voice got closer.

The pressure changed again. Someone else was coming to give her a visit, or that sadist was leaving.

Get out. It was a different voice, someone new.

Exactly who do you think you're talking to, kid? Demon's Wrath seemed to smile.

You, bloke, get out. Warm Cockney accent? Husky undertones? Only George had such a voice. George, her cousin…the memories were there but she didn't have any emotions connected to them. Why are you important to me?

Remember, you only have two days, The Demon said before the door opened again.

Sorry, Loon. I should 'ave been in 'ere with you. Bloody 'ell, woman, put some clothes on me cousin, he snapped.

Yes, yes sir. I have your clothes here, Tiger said, beside Ollie. I can help you…I mean…

Fine. Ollie sighed, not wishing to make a bigger fool of herself.

She did as Tiger said, lifting her arms to get her shirt on and stepping into her pants. Either her skin was sensitive or the material was really scratchy; the garments were uncomfortable. But at least she was clothed.

Once she was dressed, the scraping sound of something being dragged across the floor again caught her ear. Something touched the back of her calf muscles.

Sit down, slowly. George told her. Ollie did as he said. Once seated her hands braced the seat bottom for balance. There was another scraping sound.

Tell me everything, Ollie said, leaning forward, propping her head on her hands, elbows on her knees, eyes closed.

After you died… Georgie started.

You mean after that bitch killed me.

Um, yes, well you were dyin' anyway.

Ollie turned her head toward his voice. Was he saying he supported what happened to her? I see. What the hell was going on?

Once we 'ad the funeral, we made sure yer body was exhumed. They had allowed her to be buried, knowing she was coming back. Then Tiger began the resuscitation process.

Demon-ass said I was dead for four days. How is that possible?

Energy preserved yer body after death. Decay is extremely slow.

Not this again. But how did you know you could revive me?

Creed knew. George's answers came too fast. Someone had coached him. Who was this man? He was her cousin and yet he acted so callous.

Once I was revived? She asked.

Tiger went to work repairin' yer seal, makin' sure you didn' die completely.

It took some time for you to adjust. Tiger added her two cents. The five days after your revival you were in a lighter…healing trance. The next three days you woke for short periods of time. By the end of the second week you were awake, but barely coherent. You had none of your faculties, like an adult baby. Three days ago you started talking, but you were hysterical because your mind wasn't completely healed from the trauma, and nothing made sense to you. You even spoke in different languages at times.

Languages? Ollie frowned.

French…or Italian…

'er guardians were French, and Creed's Italian, George clarified.

Memories of abuse came rushing to the forefront of her mind. They were in France when she died the first time. That was the first language she had learned, the first time she had tasted hatred. She cringed, feeling that pedophile's hands on her skin and in places they should have never gone.

Loon?

Ollie jerked, realizing she had a death grip on her hands. Easing her hold, she reminded herself that it was done, finished, and that monster was dead. It was in the past and nothing could change it.

Finished…she swallowed back the memories and anxiety that came with them. It is a part of me, but it is not who I am. She toiled in the dark of her mind, unable to see, remembering the darkness of the closet she was locked in that time. Fear was present and yet it meant nothing. She reveled in the remembered pain of the starvation she once knew. It would give her strength, and empower her to face the coming hurdle.

Continue, she said, opening her eyes, just to feel air touch them.

Well…um… Tiger stammered, I think your energy is slowly coming back. With plenty of rest and food, it should come faster. Within the next month you should be one hundred percent. But that is an approximation. Your powers should return, as well as your eyesight. I hope. You could be the perfect…Ollie. That last phrase was not convincing. She was going to say something else.

Perfect Ollie, huh? What was she going to say? Demon's Wrath said she was going to be a weapon. Was that what she was going to say? That Ollie was going to be the perfect weapon?

George--

'George?' Ollie why d'ya call me that? Don' you remember, you always call me Georgie?

Maybe her memories are not fully returned, Tiger told him.

But she didn't feel like this was her Georgie. She felt no attachment to the man before her. She thought of her family. Not one of them had a hold on her heart anymore. She was alone in the darkness with memories that meant little to her.

Sorry, Georgie, but I just found out I've been dead for four damn days and out of it for two weeks. Then I wake up to find out that some damn Demon wants to train me… saying I'm his. What the hell is that about?

Her questions were met with silence. It was true?

"What have I missed…Georgie?" The words were so wicked, that even she didn't recognize them.

Yes she did. She recognized the growing disdain for her surroundings and her situation. This place was getting under her skin and these people, whoever they were, were making her feel powerless. They were hiding something from her. They were conspiring something that involved her, and without her permission. This situation was bad, and there was only one way to find out how bad it was.

I need to talk to Creed.

It's not--

Creed isn' takin' any phone calls, George cut Tiger off. We're tryin' to find out if anythin' 'appened to 'im…but you know it's 'ard to reach 'im.

Tiger was about to say something and George silenced her. They were definitely controlling the girl; there was no doubt about it now. George, her so-called cousin, was being just as deceptive as Demon's Wrath. If only she could get Tiger alone.

And they couldn't reach Creed? That meant one of two things: either Creed was on the move again, or he refused communication. Both scenarios were signs of hell.

I can get in touch with him if you allow me a line. Her back curved into the chair. It was time to play the game.

Okay, George agreed readily. What's the number?

She told them and heard movement. The door unsealed and resealed.

Is George gone? Ollie asked the timid girl.

Umm…yes. Tiger answered.

Did he post guards inside?

Yes.

She smiled. For you or for me?

Both. Tiger's voice was barely a whisper. The woman was on her side, which meant there were those in Moon who still followed her. Since they insisted on monitoring Ollie, it would be awhile before she could speak to Tiger alone. She would have to find another way to get the information she sought.

The pressure in the room changed. We routed the line into the speakers overhead.

What, no privacy? she asked with a frown, though she had expected as much.

Precautions. Just in case--

He was compromised. I understand. Oh how she understood. She got quiet until she heard a beep.

How are you, Olivia? the accent that greeted her was a mixture of Italian, Austrian, and British. It was definitely Creed.

Fine, how are you old man?

Why are you bothering me?

I was just wondering how you were taking my death. Oh, and by the way, thanks for the heads up, dickhead.

Mmm hmm. Anything else? A tapping sound echoed in the air.

Are you tapping your fingers, Creed? Impatient? With me? Shit, you're the one keeping secrets. So you tell me, dickhead, what else do I have to look forward to?

He groaned without answering. Such an asshole. And to think there was a time she actually liked him. As lousy and useless as her real father.

Kiss my ass! I'll let you talk to Georgie, I'm sure he wants to ask your useless ass some things. She wanted to reach through that phone line and choke the daylights out of him.

Are you not even going to ask about your twin? Creed asked.

Her brow creased deeper. Twin?

Pain jolted in her head as Ellis's face flashed into her mind. For the first time, she felt something. Grief and regret flooded her mind and tears burned her eyes. Her last memory before dying was a wish that she could say goodbye to her brother. He'd be torn by her death and she didn't want that sadness for him.

But she wasn't dead was she?

She wiped the tears from her face.

He'll be okay. Ollie sank down in her chair, wishing to hide.

Olivia, I know you're pissed. But when you get some time, come visit me. I haven't seen you in a while. We can talk and catch up. The line went dead.

Ollie smiled to herself. That was what she was looking for.

Creed knew what was going on. He always did. But he could do nothing about it, not without his followers. He was a recluse for safety reasons, and had others do his bidding. If Ollie was right, he would have disbanded his followers if someone was coming after him.

Creed was in as much trouble as she was. Most of Moon had overturned him or betrayed him, which would have never happened if she was still alive. He was powerful, but his power was limited and could barely protect him. Seeing everything didn't mean he could stop everything.

Because of his three hundred plus years of experience and his Level Four seal, the man with the Eyes of God was immediately deemed head of Moon and Master of Order. But how had they overthrown him? Or had they? Maybe they were still in the process? Was that why they allowed her to talk to him? Because they needed to find his location? It wouldn't happen. He wouldn't answer his phone if there was a potential for leaks.

He had answers, his voice told her that. Ollie had to get out of her prison, find him, beat the answers out of him, and then kill him. It seemed like a fitting punishment for letting her go through hell.

Ollie? George grabbed her attention. Do you know 'ow to reach 'im, just in case?

I haven't got all my memory back, but I remember enough to know better than to tell you, Ollie snapped. So when are you going to tell me what's going on? The truth.

He said nothing.

Fine. But when I get my energy and my powers back, your ass will be the first I target…cousin or not. And if any other Moon wants some, they can put their name on the list. So I suggest you kill me now in my weakness.

Ollie--

Kill me, George, or I swear there'll be no place safe from me.

No one will hurt you, Ollie, without permission, because they are scared of Demon's Wrath, Tiger chimed in.

Shapla, George warned.

Bingo. There had to be a ringleader. Though it was not clear before, it was now. Demon's Wrath was the monkey running the circus.

Ollie calls me Tiger. She stated as if it was law and she a servant to the law.

Right. George's voice moved. He was looming over Ollie. Loon…I apologize if you don' unnerstand right now, but--

George, if you are leaving, could you do it quietly? Ollie said, as coldly as she meant it.

Loon?

And don't call me Loon, Ollie snapped. He had no right to call her anything. He was nothing to her.

Bu-

She said leave, Tiger's voice was as cold as Ollie's.

Watch yer tone, George warned. Then he turned back to Ollie and said, Fine, but I'm still yer cousin.

She didn't say a word, not caring who he thought he was. This man was just as nameless and faceless as the Demon to her. She felt the pressure in the room change.

Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat. And I will be transferring you to another room.

"What, are you my keeper?"

Yes, the girl answered honestly.

Oh.

Anything that you need that they will allow me to get you, I will fetch. I am the only one.

Fetch? Ollie said, smirking. They trained Tiger to be a dog. Poor girl.

What…what is so funny?

Nothing, kid. Food will be fine and sleep better. Pain killers would make life even sweeter, Ollie said curling her legs up in the chair. And my eyesight, if you could give me that as well.

()()()

After feeding the angry woman, Tiger gave Ollie her arm to hold as she ushered her to her living quarters. It was a small room with a sleeping mat, shower, and toilet. The room was a closet compared to the room adjoining it. This was where Ollie's training would begin. It was an empty room, but Tiger knew all too well that empty was not always a good thing. Surveillance cameras captured three hundred and sixty degrees of both rooms. Every breath Ollie took would be recorded.

How long will I be here? Ollie asked, releasing Tiger's arm.

Until Demon's Wrath is finished with you.

Ollie touched the wall to find the door of her room. How long will that be?

He didn't give a time limit. So until he is satisfied. Tiger swallowed, glancing up at the video cameras.

So in other words, this is my prison until he breaks me. Ollie found the doorway.

Tiger didn't respond, but Ollie already knew the truth. She was always smarter and more alert than the people around her. This was why Ollie would die before breaking to Demon's will.

I will bring food and a change of clothing for you every day. If you would like to speak to George, I can arrange it.

Ollie's wicked amber and green eyes narrowed. You can forget that.

Believe it or not, you are not the only prisoner. Tiger tried to make her understand without telling her that Moon was in a crisis.

We make our own prisons, Ollie said, sliding her feet into the room. And I refuse to be anyone's prisoner. Her feet touched the mat and she slowly lowered herself to it.

You make it sound easy.

I don't know about easy, but I know about making it reality. I'm sleepy, she said lying down.

Ollie's body needed more time to regenerate, to rebuild her strength. Tiger left the woman to her dreams. As soon as she was outside of the training room in the main hallway, she was slammed into the wall and held by her throat. Fear kicked up inside her as she began to tremble. There was only one who tormented her like this.

Listen and listen carefully, little girl. You are her attendant, not her friend. Do not inform her about anything without my permission. And guess what? I'm allowing you a choice: obey me or I kill you. He squeezed her throat harder, cutting off her breath. And I'll really enjoy killing you. He grinned.

Tiger closed her eyes, petrified.

Good, little girl. He kissed her on the cheek before dropping her. Willpower alone held back her tears as she tried to gain balance on wobbly legs. It took awhile before she could move again.

The Demon was a Level Three Moon, and one of the deadliest. He was known as the number one assassin in the world, and for good reason. Not only could he creep into a person's heart, creating a slew of nasty emotions, he could sniff out the tiniest weakness.

Tiger had several weaknesses, so it wasn't hard for him to find them. She was obedient to him only from fear he would use them all against her.

Fear was how he broke his adversaries. If one of them dared to overcome a weakness, he would create a new one. Ollie had no idea, but if she ever got her sight back, he would be right there to bring her an even bigger obstacle. That was the kind of monster he was.

He ruled by fear, and by fear took over Moon. Control was easy for a man like him to grasp, a man who feared nothing, not even pain or death.

But there was a rumor, an almost unspoken rumor, that Demon's Wrath had one fear; a fear named Ollie. Out of all the people that could have been considered a risk in Moon because of unpredictability, Ollie was the principal risk.

Ollie's powers, and her tendency to do as she pleased, made many afraid of her. There were whispers that she was the only one who ever stood up to the Demon, even though she had never met him. What scared Moon even more was her disregard for life. Not just her own, but everyone's. Creed had told Tiger that if killing was one option out of many she could use to resolve a situation, Ollie would take it with few, if any, hesitations. The only thing that stayed her hand was her ability to think ten steps ahead. If she saw no real use for a person, that person was disposable. But if she saw some value, she adopted him or her into her circle and bestowed a label or nickname identifying the value she saw.

Though it seemed twisted, everyone knew Ollie was unorthodox. And everyone knew there was no one more suitable to take down the Demon.

Tiger took in a heavy breath as she walked to her lab. She would make sure she did her best to help Ollie heal and get her to full strength, so that the woman could kill that evil man.

When Tiger entered the controlled environment, she went to her desk and put on a sweater. They kept it cold to limit germs and bacteria growth. She understood it, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Tiger.

She jumped, thinking she was alone. Turning, she saw George by the door that had not opened. He was a shadow dweller, so wherever there were shadows, there was George. He was one of the best shadow dwellers in Moon, able to go great distances, and even spy from the shadows. And he was only a Level Two. He approached Tiger's desk.

He loved Ollie. But even he was under the Demon's thumb now that Creed had isolated himself from Moon's reach. Though Tiger felt sorry for the man, she knew her position. What Ollie wants, Tiger wants.

Turn around and pretend yer workin', that I'm not 'ere.

She did as she was told.

Do you think…do you think Loon will forgive… He paused. She's not like other people. But I 'ave to protect our families, both of them. This is the only way. It was my agreement with--

Tiger gasped. He had promised to hand Ollie over, all his control over, to protect both of their families. She had no idea. Ollie would definitely understand.

You mussn' say a word.

Tiger nodded. Even though you'll have to be against her?

I know 'er better than I wish. I could see it in 'er face. She's goin' to fight. But I 'ope it won' be against me.

You could get in trouble telling me this, she said, looking up at the security camera.

They see and 'ear nothin'. George chuckled. As far as they can tell, I'm not 'ere.

Then why not go tell Ollie?

They 'ave twice the security on 'er. I can fool one camera but I 'aven' the energy for guards and several cameras. All I want…all I want you to do is to tell 'er that … I'm still 'er cousin. She might not unnerstan' it, but maybe … maybe she might try.

Do you think he'll keep his word? Tiger asked, skeptical.

George groaned. 'e's sick and sadistic, but 'es Moon. I'm 'oping that part wins out.

Yeah, but he made an oath to Moon and …

'e 'as kept it. In 'is own twisted way. Despite 'ow it looks, 'e 'asn' broken it.

He was banking on Moon honor. It was all based on an oath to protect the Oracle's position.

He sighed. His voice lowered. I'll be through to check on 'er, but, you won' see much of me, cause I 'ave to locate the Oracle.

She's still not found?

Thank you. She felt him say before he faded to nothingness.

()()()

Shooting pain had Ollie groaning, holding her head, waking up. Memories crowded her mind. Tears streamed down her cheeks from the agony that traveled down her spine to every nerve and fiber in her body. No matter how still she lay, it wasn't still enough.

Ollie heaved, as sweat dripped down her forehead. The pain eased as she thought of her brother, Geo. He was one of many who had trained her. Because of her active and violent behavior, Mama made him teach her to give her some discipline. That was the only time she and Geo actually related to each other. He was hard to open up to and talk to, but when the two of them fought, they understood each other. She remembered now why she cared so much about him. Her memories came back slowly, but some of them still did not evoke any emotion. Death had changed her yet again.

Rising from the firm mat she slept on, she moved around looking for a light switch until she remembered she was blind. She exhaled her frustration as she made her way around the room searching for the toilet. She would have to remember where it was precisely, so that if she ever had an emergency she wouldn't piss herself, or worse.

She froze. Something brushed against her neck. It was slight, but she felt a touch. Then she felt it on her arm so light it was almost unnoticeable.

Bitch, she struck out with her fist, but only hit the wall.

Laughter followed.

Ignoring the sting in her knuckles, she turned to his voice. When Tiger told her the room was small, Ollie had no idea how small, but she was starting to get an idea. As her hands braced the wall for stability, his harsh laughter drew closer. How the hell was she supposed to fight him blind? The disadvantage was bullshit.

Fingers threaded through her hair, grabbed tight, and yanked. She tried to move away from him, but he pulled harder. The sting brought tears to her eyes and all she could do was follow his pull.

Such beautiful hair, you should really take better care of it. He mocked and chuckled, throwing her down on the floor. Though there was some spring to the surface, it still hurt like hell to fall on it. Stand up and take a stance.

Peeling her face off of the floor, she crouched wearily. She still didn't have enough strength, but that wouldn't stop him, would it? He was going to do as he wished, which included not waiting until her strength returned. And if she begged or pleaded, it would get worse. If she trash-talked, it would get worse. What the hell, she would lose no matter what.

So, bitch, how you want your-- Before Ollie could get the words out and herself on her feet, she landed hard on her back, her head hitting the floor with a thud.

What was that? I didn't hear you. he snarled.

Shit, she wheezed, shaking off the throbbing, getting up. I'm going to bruise you so bad you-- she doubled over in pain, falling to her knees, when something plowed into her stomach.

I can do this all day. The demonic choirboy practically sang.

He beat her until she felt her skin open in places she had never been wounded. Pain constricted her body. It wasn't long before his beating took its toll on her. Not long at all.

Ollie lay breathless, wishing she had the strength to drag herself to the bathroom. If only she knew where it was. Having waited too long and being too disoriented, she let her bladder go as well as her pride.

When Tiger came with breakfast, she said nothing. The girl helped Ollie to the shower and cleaned her. After dressing her, she began feeding Ollie like she was a baby. If Ollie could move or even speak she would have cussed the girl out for making her feel so helpless, even though she was.

She squeezed the tears back until Tiger left. As soon as Ollie was sure the girl was gone, she let them come, hating her helplessness. She had only felt this helpless once before. After she survived that, she had promised it would never happen again. Her blindness was a constant reminder of that dark, cold closet. The Demon reminded her of that sick twisted man who had raped her. Demon hadn't