“Then why am I here?”

With a formal gesture, Siljar pointed toward the opening that loomed just down the tunnel.

“Step into the cavern and all will be explained.”

Not at all satisfied with the vague promise, Anna abruptly threw her arms up as there was a brilliant flash of light and the demon just…disappeared.

“Great. Just freaking great,” she muttered, blinking the pain from her eyes and turning toward the opening of the cavern. The fear that had clutched her since the arrival of the demon in her bedroom remained, but along with it was a rising sense of resignation. Deep in her heart she knew that this was the secret destiny that Cezar had kept hidden from her. That even if she turned and ran from these tunnels she would only be returned. There was no avoiding what was waiting for her in the darkness, so why the hell not just get it over with?

Squaring her shoulders, Anna allowed the always tangible sense of Cezar to fill her mind. He might be miles away, but the sensation of him flooded through her with a comforting force. Her thinly stretched courage returned, as if Cezar were standing at her side, and with an unconscious tilt of her chin she forced herself to walk forward.

If this was to be her fate, then she would meet it with her head high.

At least physically speaking.

Stepping into the inky darkness she sensed a vast opening with a high ceiling that made the slightest noise echo eerily through the silence.

She stopped not far from the entrance, unable to see a damn thing. She wasn’t overly anxious to make her entrance by tripping over something and landing flat on her face.

“Hello?” she called out, unable to hide the impatience in her voice.

Without a breath of sound a torch set in the center of the stone floor flared to life, revealing a small wooden chair.

“Anna Randal,” a deep male voice echoed through the cavern. “Sit. We offer you welcome.”

She hesitated only a moment before moving to settle on the seat. Despite the fact that she could make out only shadowed forms seated at what appeared to be a long table on a dais, she was acutely aware that she was wearing nothing more than a T-shirt, and her hair hung in tangles.

She could actually feel the weight of their gazes on her.

“Thank you,” she muttered, a shiver wracking her chilled body.

“Do not fear, we mean you no harm,” a softer voice soothed. A voice that held the faint hiss of a snake. Yikes.

Suddenly relieved that she couldn’t actually make out more than their outlines, Anna sucked in a deep breath.

“Then why am I here?”

“You know who we are?” the male voice demanded.

“I suppose you must be the Oracles, although I don’t really know what all that entails.”

“We are the justice of the demon world,” a new, guttural voice proclaimed. “It is our duty to ensure that the ancient laws are obeyed and to arbitrate disagreements between the species. We punish those who threaten our world and offer answers for those who seek our wisdom.”

“We are the protection of the demon world.” The hissing woman continued the strange litany. “With our powers we hold the veils between dimensions and help to shroud our people from the sight of the humans who infect this world.”

“We are the compassion of the demon world.” This time it was Siljar who spoke. “We provide sanctuary for those in need. We protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

It was an unfamiliar female voice who spoke the last words of the recitation. “We are the future and the past of the demon world. With the gift of foresight we steer the paths of those who have been revealed to alter our history. We preserve our traditions for those to come.”

Okay.

It sounded as if they had rehearsed that impressive little spiel more than once.

It didn’t, however, answer her question.

“Yes, well, that’s all very interesting, but I’m still not sure what it has to do with me,” she said.

“We have been watching you for some time, Anna Randal,” the guttural voice informed her.

“Watching me? Why?”

“It is foreseen that you are to become an Oracle.”

The breath was wrenched from her lungs as if she’d taken a blow.

Actually, it was worse than a blow, she acknowledged, as numb disbelief flooded her body and threatened to shut down her brain. She’d taken enough hits over the years to shrug most of them aside.

But to be told, out of the freaking blue, that she was destined to become some omnipotent being that was in charge of the entire demon world…well, that wasn’t something anyone was going to shrug off.

She gave a shake of her head. The Commission didn’t seem the sort to use nefarious ploys to trick people. And certainly they didn’t seem the sort to play practical jokes. She’d bet her last dime they didn’t even know what the hell a joke was.

On the other hand, she couldn’t believe for a minute that they were actually serious. It was insane to believe she was in any way Oracle material.

The demons would laugh themselves sick.

Christ, she would laugh herself sick.

“No.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Oh no. There has to be a mistake.”

“We do not make mistakes,” the hissing woman said, her voice cold.

Anna’s brows snapped together. Obviously people skills weren’t a necessary requirement to be on the Commission.

“There has to be a first time for everything,” she said tightly. “There’s no way in hell that I’m an Oracle.”

There was a brief stir in the air, as if she’d managed to shock the ancient demons.

“Why are you so certain?” Siljar at last demanded.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Dammit, what was going on? No one could believe that she was suited to such an important position. Not even remotely.

“In the first place I’m not a demon,” she pointed out, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

“Neither are you human,” a deep male voice retorted. “Your blood is that of the ancients.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Your powers are elemental, the most pure of all powers,” the same demon answered. “They draw upon the energy of the nature that surrounds you without the corruption of lesser magic.”

They sounded great. A pity they only worked when they wanted to.

“They’re also unpredictable, randomly destructive, and occasionally missing in action.”

Siljar, or at least Anna assumed it was Siljar, gave a soft laugh. “You are very, very young, Anna Randal. With time you will learn control.”

“Even if by some miracle I do, they will never compare to the sort of power that the rest of you obviously possess.”

There was a deep, rumbling sigh. The sort of sigh that was usually reserved for annoying children.

“You are mistaken,” the gravelly male voice informed her, “but it does not matter. It is not your powers that mark you as an Oracle.”

“Then what does?”

“Your heart.”

Anna gave a choked cough, that numb disbelief threatening to return. She didn’t know squat about these Oracles, but they didn’t strike her as being touchy-feely types. More the do-as-we-say-or-we’ll-rip-your-throat-out types.

For God’s sake, they held Cezar captive for two centuries just because they had a vision he might keep her alive.

“If you truly know my heart then you must realize I can’t play hardball with the rest of you. It’s just not who I am.”

She thought she heard a muttered agreement from more than one of the Oracles, but it was Siljar’s comforting voice that floated through the shadows.

“You have proven a rare ability to fight for justice, even when you knew it was hopeless, even when you knew that all of your efforts would lead to nothing more than disappointment.”

She stiffened in surprise, disturbed by the thought that these demons had been watching her for so many years. Maybe from her very birth.

“You mean my career as a lawyer?”

“It was more than a career, was it not?”

She thought back to her years battling for those who had no voice. Those who were oppressed. Those who were taken advantage of simply because they were too old, too poor, or too frightened to fight back.

It had been more than a career.

It had been a foundation that had given her life meaning.

“I suppose.”

“And the manner in which you confronted Morgana reveals you are capable of overcoming your human emotions and battling an enemy without the desire to punish your opponent,” a deep male voice boomed.

Anna shuddered. Her fight with Morgana had been a nasty necessity that would give her nightmares for centuries to come, not a job reference.

“I trapped her in a chunk of stone.”

“Yes,” the hissing woman murmured. “Quite amusing.”

Right.

Enough was enough.

With a surge of emotion, Anna rose to her feet and glared at the shrouded forms.

“This is crazy.” She shook her head. “There have to be thousands of demons who would make far better Oracles than I ever would. I barely even know about your world.”




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