14
Amelia ran a hand down the wrinkled page.
Black letters in block script over white paper, reminding of ants scattered across fresh snow.
Her fingers traced the sheet as if it were living flesh – softly, curiously.
Just as they had explored Mikhail’s scarred skin.
Under her touch, the four wounds had come alive, prompting her to want, to search, to receive…
more. And therein lay the problem. What she’d wanted, Mikhail couldn’t give.
Amelia pierced the paper with her index finger. She didn’t want to think about that night.
She read the text her hand was pointing to.
“They all claim they knew me, too. They call me divine son. I know my provenance. I am not divine.
I am a mistake.”
A strange elation arose in her. She continued reading.
“They believe that by interacting with me, they’ll become stronger. But everything I touch loses its vigour. They want my companionship in order to feel special. But the only thing I can offer them is to become the ordeal on today’s menu.”
Amelia set the journal aside, goosebumps of enthusiasm spreading over her entire body.
Mikhail invaded her thoughts once again.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to banish him from her mind.
Instead, she found herself drawn back into a memory – the manticore pinning her beneath his magnificent body, his arousal pressing against her most intimate parts.
She had stared into his glowing golden eyes, the torment of longing etched across his features.
Suddenly, he blurred and transformed into a new face – a stranger who held her down, his lips crushing against hers.
Her pulse quickened, and her body ignited with heat.
Amelia’s eyes flew open. It took her a few seconds to regain control of her breathing.
Had she just experienced a vision? She glanced at the discarded copy of C.’s journal. An unsettling feeling crept in – the stranger in her vision was the author. But who was the woman through whose senses she had perceived… whatever had just transpired?
Ever since she had become the Oracle, her body behaved strangely.
She had lost her appetite, and when she did eat, it was only fruits and vegetables – everything else upset her stomach.
Yet an unquenchable thirst plagued her. Often at night, her lips dried out, her throat tightening, and her skin stretched taut, like an ill-fitting shell.
She would gulp down an entire glass of water, then another, and another.
And sometimes – like a moment ago – a hot wave would wash over her, heating her skin, making her breath hitch, and stirring certain scenes in her imagination…
Amelia sprang to her feet, deciding to clear her mind with some fresh air.
She was pulling on her boots when an unfamiliar melody made her jerk. Glancing around the room, she remembered the mobile phone Stella had left her earlier that day. Spotting it on the nightstand, she leaned over to read the name on the screen several times: Mikhail Korovin.
Amelia stared at the ringing phone. She hadn’t seen Mikhail since their strange conversation yesterday, when they had agreed their relationship would remain formal. So why did her hand tremble when she reached to answer the call? “Mikhail?”
“Hello. I’m outside your door.”
She snapped her head towards the mirror, inspecting her reflection – a cotton blouse and fitted pants, hair tied back in a low ponytail that reached the middle of her spine. Her face was pale, with a faint flush on her cheeks.
Get a grip . She cleared her throat. “I’m coming.”
Mikhail was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Her gaze fell on the tattoo on his left forearm and her breath caught.
She had seen his arms bare before, and there had been no tattoos.
She stared, unable to tear her eyes away from the intricate design wrapping around his muscles like a sleeve. “You got a tattoo?”
He lowered his arms and glanced at the design before focusing back on her, frowning. “You can see it?”
“Yes, why?”
Mikhail cast a quick look down the corridor, then nodded towards her room. “Let’s go inside.”
Amelia peeked over her shoulder, remembering the sheets of paper she had written on. Even though she had discarded them, her muscles tensed at the thought of Mikhail entering her personal space.
She was about to come up with an excuse, but when she glanced at him again, he was inches from her face. She took a step back to create some distance between them, which he interpreted as an invitation, and walked right past her.
As soon as Mikhail sat on the edge of her bed, her room felt impossibly small. Choosing the spot furthest from him, Amelia positioned herself against the wooden desk, gripping its edge. Her eyes sought the black figures encircling Mikhail’s arm.
He extended his hand. “This is the Council’s tattoo. It has always been there, but it’s only visible to Council members and those who serve the Council. For example, the hybrid twins, Zacharia, and other beings who have pledged their loyalty.”
Loyalty. Amelia suppressed the rising panic crawling up her spine. She hoped the title of Oracle didn’t oblige her to serve the Council, which would mean being officially subordinate to Mikhail.
“Why do I see it now?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe because you’re the Oracle?” His green-brown eyes drifted over her thighs.
Amelia ignored the flutter in her stomach. “What does it mean?”
“Come closer and take a look.” Mikhail patted the bed beside him, smiling that smile that, a few months ago, had made her forget he wasn’t just an ordinary man.
Not a man, but a beast, Amelia.
She gripped the edge of the desk, refusing to let him cross the boundaries between them again. “I prefer you tell me.”
A spark flickered in his eyes. “All right… These are the intertwined images of the six immortal species. Here’s a winged lion, the secondary form of the manticore.
” He bent his arm, pointing with his other hand.
“This is the necromancer’s skeleton. The wolf symbolises the lycanthrope, and the face with sharp teeth represents the vampire.
The hand with elongated fingers belongs to the nymph, and this face here represents the witch species.
The idea is that the Council has no place for division or prejudice.
We work together for the good of the immortal world. At least, that was the original idea.”
“It’s… nice.” Amelia longed to examine the intricate weave of symbols from up close, but she recalled the last time her curiosity about Mikhail had taken over.
She kept telling herself that their moment of intimacy had been an impulsive incident.
But that impulse had been brewing long before, wrapping her senses and thoughts in desire.
Now, he was standing before her, and she couldn’t decide what to do.
She could simply walk away – this time, he had no hold over her – and forget about him and Ana forever. And hope her conscience wouldn’t eat her alive. But if she didn’t help Mikhail and address the impaired regeneration, what was the point of becoming the Oracle?
Another option was to stay and act as if the situation with Ana had never occurred. And live with the fear that the Hospital could be attacked at any moment. Which, realistically, would leave her with many sleepless nights.
Of course, she could search for the ring.
The idea made her cringe – just as it had yesterday, after writing the note.
Trusting the woman was out of the question.
Yet, the threat remained real, and Amelia had agreed to fulfil the demand.
In the end, circumstances had brought her here.
But if she explained this to Mikhail, would he believe her?
Chills ran down her spine. Based on her experience with him – unlikely.
As much as she hated to admit it, her single option was to proceed with Ana’s plan. Mikhail would hate her, but at least she would have helped the immortal world.
Feeling awkward for her thoughts, she resorted to the first topic that came to mind. “Why didn’t you hand over Elisanda to the Tribunal?”
Mikhail wrinkled his nose. “When we received Kaliope Gazis’ decapitated head, I didn’t want to involve the Tribunal because of nosy hounds like Kane.
His goal is to catch the perpetrator, but not their motives.
If he got to Elisanda first, he’d lock her up in Prokaliya without caring about what led to the murders, nor would he give me a chance to interrogate her.
Alas, despite receiving partial information about reptilians and a woman she’s been serving, I haven’t had much success with Elisanda. ”
Amelia swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “A woman?” As in, the Mother of Reptilians?
“Elisanda said a she would conquer the Earth. Or something to that effect.” Mikhail shrugged.
She clutched the desk behind her, her heart beating fast. Avoiding his gaze, she asked, “What will happen if the Tribunal finds out Elisanda is behind it all and you were keeping her locked up?”
“We’ll know soon enough. At least the first part of your question.” Mikhail’s face was devoid of emotions. “Since she’s no use to me, I decided it was time I call Presyian and let him handle her. One of his men came to take her during the night.”
She shouldn’t care if Mikhail was holding some nymph captive and inflicting pain on her. But, she did. An unexpected surge of relief rushed through her at his admission. “What did you tell Presyian?”
“That she was missing for a while before yesterday, and she came to me and admitted having committed the murders, and threatened the Hospital.”
Amelia raised her eyebrows. “And if she says that you’ve had her locked up this entire time?”
He shrugged once again. “It’d be my word against hers.”
“Mikhail, I think you’re underestimating the situation…”
“I’ll handle it.”
He rose to his feet and closed the distance between them in a few quick strides.
She braced herself for his touch, but he simply stood before her, his expression serious.
“Amelia, I need to tell you something else. You – being the Oracle doesn’t force anyone to follow a set behaviour.
Many creatures are sceptical of the title’s legitimacy.
Some even see it as a sham. The previous Oracle always carried a distinct aura.
I caught a trace of it in you when you entered the Council chamber…
But it’s faint, only detectable by those who knew the previous Oracle.
And trust me, meeting her was no easy task. ”
Amelia crossed her arms over her chest. As if it wasn’t enough that she struggled with her new identity, she also had to convince others. “Agent Kane knew I was the Oracle.”
Mikhail shook his head. “That scum definitely has more sources than we realise. Plenty of beings saw you at the Council. Someone must have talked.”
She lifted her chin to add a bit of height. “So, what do I need to do to not seem like a fraud?”
Golden flames flickered in Mikhail’s eyes, and the corners of his lips curled up. “Do you really care how you appear to others?”
Amelia was pressing too hard against the edge of the desk behind her.
I care about how I appear in your eyes.
She immediately cursed herself for the thought. It shouldn’t matter whether he saw her as a worthy Oracle or not.
Nor should his proximity raise goosebumps across her skin.
“Develop your skills. Give yourself time. And patience. In the immortal world, things often happen slowly. Your power grows with your confidence and diminishes with your fear,” Mikhail said.
Her shoulders sagged. “It’s hard to feel confident when I have no control over my powers.”
He stared at her, a thoughtful grimace on his face. “I can’t help you with mastering your visions, but there’s someone who might.”