“Yes, by talking and working together, not to be treated like a criminal. I came to you in good faith, to answer questions and open up my life to you so we could get answers together. But now I’m in jail and while you can take your sweet time figuring out what’s going on, my life will be in shambles. Isn’t that special?”
“I promise I’ll get you home as soon as possible.”
“Forgive me for saying that your promises don’t mean squat.”
He drew in a deep breath, his eyes searching hers, as though he was trying to figure out how she worked, at least enough to say something that would have her agreeing to stay by her own free will.
The door creaked and opened and a man entered. He had curly ginger hair with sideburns and was wearing jeans and scuffed up tennis shoes, with a grey T-shirt under a battered dark brown leather jacket. He walked over to Wulver, leaning close and whispering into the leader’s ear.
Wulver’s eyebrows furrowed and he stared at ginger boy. Ginger’s mouth turned down and he nodded, then left the room.
Laire, Fallon, and Aislynn looked on with curiosity. Not a sliver of sound reached Larissa, but from the way Wulver’s mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed, she knew he didn’t like what he heard.
His eyes settled back on her. “For having the cleanest record I’ve ever seen, a whole lot of people want to meet you. What is your secret?”
“Wulver,” Fallon called. “What’s going on?”
Yes please, what the hell is happening now?
Wulver sighed. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face, the way people do when they’re expecting an explosion. “The Oracle has summoned her.”
“Ah, hell no!” Fallon said, and Larissa flinched. Wulver really could have warned her about the volume Fallon could achieve, at least given her some ear plugs. “What do you mean summon? We only just got her to the safety of the compound.”
Wulver stood, facing the swordswoman. “The Oracle commands that Larissa be brought to her at moonrise.”
“The Oracle can also feel the backside of my boot.”
Anyone who irritated Fallon that much couldn’t be all bad. This might be fun. And hey, she was an Oracle – hence the name. Maybe answers would finally be forthcoming.
Larissa stood, looking to Wulver. “Can she tell me why all this has been happening to me? Is that why she wants to see me?”
Wulver didn’t look like he believed that was a possibility, but after a moment he plastered on a smile and said, “I don’t know why you’ve been called, but yes, the Oracle may give you some answers.”
“Wouldn’t count on it,” Fallon muttered.
Wulver pinned his gaze on Fallon, command and authority in his bearing. Yes, this man was leader here. “She is to go to the Oracle.” Do you understand? was unsaid, but Larissa felt it.
Fallon crossed her arms, slouching back against the mirror. “Yeah, got it.”
Wulver left the room. The second the door closed after him Laire started jumping, a huge smile on her face and her body shaking in repressed excitement. “I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go! You don’t even like the Oracle. Let me.”
Before the first words were out of Laire’s mouth, Fallon started to shake her head, and as soon as the green-haired woman took a breath, Fallon used it as her opportunity to say, “No way.”
“Please please please.”
“Let me rephrase. No way in the four hells.”
Laire stopped jumping, a small pout coming to her lips. How she had been able to prevent an ankle fracture on those spikes, Larissa didn’t know. “Why not?”
“Because if they have an orgy going on, you’ll want to join. And if they don’t have an orgy going on, you’ll want to start one. I’ll take Aislynn with me.” Fallon looked over at Larissa. “Congratulations. You are about to do something many mortals dream about but few get to experience. You’re about to meet the Oracle.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
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The acolyte was a young elf male, no more than hundred years old. His hair was shorn in the way of all those newly pledged to their necromancer master while the scar pattern on his chest denoted who his master was to those that knew the code. His eyes gleamed with a feral and fierce devotion, one the gargoyles had yet to crack.
Terak stood before him as he had the last several hours. “I ask again, why are you here trespassing on our lands? Your master knows my kind is resistant to your magic, so it is not in his best interest to court the wrath of gargoyles.”
The high-pitched giggle teetered on the edge of sanity. “Perhaps my Master knows he has nothing to fear from a gargoyle obsessed with a worthless human woman. Tell me, Gargoyle, is what’s between her legs so unique that you let it take you away from your Clan?”