Damian's Oracle by Lizzy Ford

come. But now he will.”
    “What the fuck does that mean?”
    “To contain the uh, coaching being done, the
Original Beings are ordaining a new god to act as a sort of referee
here on earth who will have the ability to bridge the physical and
divine worlds.”
    “Y’all pissed really them off this time,
didn’t you?”
    “Yes, Ikir, I think we did.”
    “What is this Grey God?”
    “I can’t tell you, but you must be on the
lookout for him. You have to protect him.”
    “Didn’t your Original friends give him
god-powers?”
    “It’s hard to explain.”
    Damian waited. The Watcher returned his gaze
to his phone, reading a text.
    “Fascinating,” he murmured.
    “You gonna try to explain?” Damian
prompted.
    “No, ikir.”
    He studied the small man infatuated with his
phone. He’d hoped never to see the Watcher again.
    “I’ve assigned you a ringtone,” the Watcher
said in satisfaction.
    “Didn’t think you Watchers liked us lesser
beings contacting you.”
    “In an emergency.”
    “Is that your way of saying something bad’s
gonna happen, and I’ll need to call you?”
    “No, ikir,” the Watcher said, looking up.
“But in case it does …”
    “Right,” Damian said, not amused by the
cryptic responses.
    “Will you tell your team captains I may visit
them?”
    Despite his suspicion, he chuckled.
    “You can stop with the basketball analogies,”
he said. “You mean Dusty and Jule?”
    “My apologies, ikir. I wanted to explain
things to you in a way you’d be able to understand.”
    “Yeah, we’re all idiots here on planet
earth.”
    The Watcher smiled in response, and Damian
knew well enough his kind truly thought themselves superior.
    “I’ll tell them not to kill you on sight, if
that’s what you’re asking,” he continued. “But I’ll warn you as
well: if you speak in riddles to Dusty, he’ll cut your heart out.
And Jule may smile at you, but you better disappear fast if you
tell him something he doesn’t like.”
    “I understand,” the Watcher said. “I want
only the opportunity to speak to Dusty, if needed. Jule’s still on
what you might call the otherworldly shitlist.”
    Damian straightened, at his limit with the
cryptic nonsense.
    “Anything else you wanna avoid telling me?”
he snapped.
    “No, ikir.”
    “Walk yourself out.”
    He strode away. He felt the Watcher’s
presence disappear as he entered the mansion. His phone dinged
again, and he glanced down.
    Thank u, ikir.
    “Just when things were complicated enough … “
he muttered and retreated to his study for his evening telecon with
Dusty and Jule.
    They were both online already, swapping vamp
stats.
    “Dusty, do I need to send someone to Miami to
fix your IT?” he asked as a message popped upon his screen.
    “You know he’s a techno-phobe,” Jule said.
“Still using stamps and envelopes.”
    I prefer the personal touch to this
e-shit.
    “Hey, there’s something I need to tell you
guys,” Damian said grimly. “The Watchers are in town, and they may
be dropping by to visit.”
    There was a pause in activity.
    Uh, oh.
    “You have no idea,” he said. “We’ll talk when
you’re in town. Watcha got for me tonight?”
     
    * * *
    “Ok, Ikira, what do you See?”
    She tentatively touched Pierre’s outstretched
arm. He took his place on the sparring field, and Grande leaned
close to her.
    “He’ll win in seven moves,” she told him.
    “Pierre for the kill,” Grande said, handing
Han one from the wad of dollars in his hand.
    “This is working too well,” Han said, eyeing
her.
    “If only you could touch horses,” Grande said
with a sigh of exaggerated melancholy. “We’d be kings at the
races.”
    She was getting a better grip on her newfound
talent. She was able to predict the winner of their rounds –
without flashes of their deaths. Han motioned him away, and Grande
shifted down a seat.
    “Isn’t there a better use for your gift than
lining Grande’s pockets?” he asked.
    “I