Damian's Oracle

"You okay?" Han asked, his form blurry in front of her.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" she growled. "No, I'm not okay! What normal person can't go outside? You all kidnapped me, drugged me, dragged me to Arizona-if I'm really in Arizona-and you won't tell me why or what's wrong with me! And you know what else? I hate peanut butter. Hate it, hate it, hate it, and I can't stop eating it! I hate it!"

Embarrassed by her words and the tears streaming down her face, she ran past him and up the stairs leading to the second floor, issuing a cry of frustration when she realized she didn't know which of the three wings led to her room.

"Turn right, three doors on the left," Han called.

She followed his directions, slammed her door closed, and locked it. She collapsed onto her bed and sobbed, the man in the corner sobbing with her.

Outside her room, Han whipped out his phone to text Damian with an irritated sigh.

*****

Your Oracle's a pain in the ass.

Damian glanced at the new text message from Han before his gaze returned to the small base camp tucked between two ridges in the Tucson Mountains. He smiled faintly, knowing how hard it was to rile up his trusted Guardian. Unfortunately, none of them knew what to do with an Oracle.

"Wish you had good news for me," he said to the Guardian standing beside him.

Rainy, a brooding Guardian with striking green eyes and a shock of dark hair, was his youngest station chief at a youthful two thousand years old. Damian followed him across the dusty landing pads to the helo-hangar. His phone dinged, and he looked down at one of the zillion text messages he received from any number of his Guardians every day.

The base camp housed the emergency response helicopters for Tucson and neighboring sectors and was manned with a skeletal crew of Guardians and one on-duty pilot, a Natural who'd been trained to fly.

On a good note: logistical arrangements for Quarterly completed, Han texted. Pleased that one thing was going right, Damian tucked the phone away.

"The vamps have been conducting surveillance on us for weeks, but they just now started to act up," Rainy continued. "We didn't catch on until one of the new Naturals we just discovered was able to track them."

"A tracker?" Damian asked, impressed. "Impressive. Haven't seen one in a few thousand years."

"That's what Han said. Good timing. Had to be a woman, though."

Damian looked at him, touching his thoughts long enough to realize Rainy had volunteered to take on the bodyguard assignment to the beautiful woman in his thoughts. He hid a smile as Rainy turned to him.