Page 16 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)

“Believe it or not, back then, I had a lot more pull.” He dragged a hand along his thigh in a self-soothing stroke. “I was with a special division with the FBI.”

Ingrid leaned softly against the window. That strange, combative way Dean had spoken about the FBI agent investigating her case—it made sense now.

“So how did you end up here?” she asked.

“Got demoted when I started—well, started talking to my superiors about what we’re talking about right now.”

Can’t imagine why , Ingrid thought.

“A few psych evaluations, a few meetings with the board of my supervisors, and that was it. I had the choice between freezing my ass off in North Dakota or to come back here, back home. And I chose home. Thought that maybe if I was back where it all started, some epiphany would hit me. That I’d know what to do.

” His fingers tapped an erratic rhythm on the steering wheel as he peeked in his rearview mirror.

“But, of course, it didn’t,” Dean said. “After just a few days, I told Karis I was out. I didn’t think it was worth my sanity to try and see it to the end.

It was becoming an obsession again. The nightmares and paranoia were worse than ever.

I needed to pretend, go back to the way I was before—blind and somewhat sane. ”

“Until?” Ingrid thought she knew the answer already, but wanted to keep him talking.

“That second body we found,” Dean said. “It was Karis. He’d come back here to find me when the murders started. There had been more in other jurisdictions weeks before. All of them scattered, but with a clear upward path toward San Francisco, toward here.”

The scope widening, Ingrid could only listen.

“That’s when he asked me to help again,” Dean said.

“Or, I should say demanded my help. It was unlike him. He was always so calm, as unbothered as a person could be. Except for that day he came to see me. It was surreal, seeing him like that. So frantic, so fear-driven to recruit me all over again. Even after I’d abandoned him… again.”

A deep, stifling sadness draped over them both at that moment, like Ingrid had utterly tapped into exactly what Dean was feeling. “I’m sorry,” she muttered without thinking.

“It’s my own fault. I should’ve gone with him then.

I should’ve been at his side. But seeing him like that, seeing him so changed, so lost. I just froze.

I couldn’t do it.” He cursed under his breath, gripping the wheel.

With quivering lips, his speech patterns became terse, choking on the words.

“I had to examine the body. That’s how I found out.

How I knew he was gone, that I’d never see those wild red eyes staring back at me ever again.

” A heavy exhale, still keeping the surge of emotion at bay.

“But when I drove by your bar that very same night. When I decided for reasons beyond me to go in. And to find you, Ingrid. To find those same eyes looking back at me, fiery and beautiful and alive, it felt like fate. Like I’d gotten the epiphany I’d hoped for. ”

Ingrid’s face went into an involuntary twist.

The same night? Finding out his friend was dead and meeting her happened on the same night? She must’ve misheard him. His adrenaline-powered speech was erratic, choppy, so she must’ve misheard him. He’d acted strange that night they met, sure, but not distraught, not grieving.

“You don’t believe me,” Dean said in a sad whisper. “Do you?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to think. “It’s just, you didn’t seem like you were grieving.”

“I was. In my own way, I was devastated. And I still am.” He adjusted himself in his seat, correcting the curved posture he’d slumped into.

“See, in between those awful moments of my childhood, between my nightmares, the training, Karis would somehow pop up at the perfect time. One day he’d just…

be there. I told you what my mom was like, but Karis filled that emotional absence as best he could.

He taught me so much. And I’ll never forget that.

I’ll never forget him. It’s just, when I saw him like that, saw all that life he had was suddenly drained out of him, it was too much.

I thought that reality and my new reality couldn’t coexist. So, yes, I chose to focus on you that night, on your eyes.

Karis’s eyes. If I stared at you for long enough, it was like a little part of him was still here with me. ”

Ingrid winced, overwhelming guilt seizing her. She should’ve known better than anyone that grief could take years to fully settle in. That a person vanishing from one’s life often felt like a dream, unreal and fleeting.

Quickly, but not so abruptly as to make him feel rushed to move on from the complex reverie, she tried to avert Dean’s attention. “You said he’d randomly show up? Does that mean he lived nearby?”

A limp, exhausted smile started to form on Dean’s face. “Karis never settled in one spot, but he was never far.”

“You make him sound like he’s from an old fairy tale or something.”

“In a way, he was.” A grunt not dissimilar to a chuckle bellowed deep in Dean’s throat.

“He always had a kind of mysterious quality about him. Honestly, I probably would’ve left home a lot sooner if it weren’t for him.

How he’d come and go, it always felt like a reward for all my hard work.

He’d take me fishing, to the movies, to Giants games, to the park to play with kids my age.

He showed me how important it was to find normalcy.

To realize how many other people there were in the world, and how beautiful and fun that world could be.

Find something bigger than yourself to fight for , he always said, and your victories will never be small. ”

“Did you find it?” Ingrid asked. “Something to fight for?”

“I did.” Dean snapped his head to her, giving her a revitalized grin. “I found something more. Someone who can do what I couldn’t.” He paused. “I found you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

This man, Ingrid thought—this man whom she thought she’d read like a book after those first few meetings of theirs. Cocky, too smart for his own good, a little nerdy. She never expected this tortured, gravely earnest side of him to surface.

“You want to elaborate on what that means?” she asked softly.

“We’ll get there.” Dean cocked his head at her, gesturing to her necklace. She’d been stroking it with her unoccupied hand all that time he’d been speaking, but just now realized it. “We have a lot more to cover first.”

At the possible implication of her father, a pit opened in her stomach. “The stone,” she said. “Does it mean my father was like Karis? That he was from this other world?’

Dean nodded. “Most likely. Yes.”

She searched his expression for something telling, yet found none. “When you were talking about your mom passing. Back there.” She tipped the gun ever so slightly in the direction they came from. “You gave me a look. Like you knew I’d understand. It was all there in your eyes.”

“What was?” Dean asked.

“Sadness. Understanding. But mostly I saw pity.”

“Pity?” Dean exclaimed. “You really think I pity you?” His voice rose, but not in anger. “No. I wasn’t deflecting. I’m sorry, but I really don’t know anything about your father. And I definitely don’t pity you, Ingrid.”

She felt that pit in her gut grow larger. As adamantly as she wanted to deny it, she realized that in the mystery, the secrets and the supernatural occurrences, she’d jumped at the possibility that it all had something to do with her father—some explanation for why he’d left her.

“Then what was it?” she mumbled. “If not pity, what?”

Dean delivered his answer succinctly. “In that moment, I saw something in you. Recognized something in you. Something that I have in me. I saw… everything .” Dean struggled to get the word out, like it had been buried so deep he almost forgot his meaning.

“ Because we were given nothing . Denied basic decencies every child should receive. We were lied to and ignored our entire lives. So we’ve spent just as long filling that void with whatever we could cling to.

With everything . Anger. Hate. Work. Pain.

Everything and anything. And I imagine you’re just as sick of doing it alone as I am.

” He dragged his hand through the sides of his hair erratically, his other hand still tightly clutching the wheel.

“What I’m trying to say is, you’re not the only one.

I may not have the eyes, or the visions, but I’m like you.

Karis was more than a friend. More than a father figure.

He was my father. Only I didn’t know that. Not until after he was gone.”

Ingrid could only shudder. Again, she thought she’d heard him wrong. But the longer the silence went on, the clearer it became.

She thought about the similar experiences she’d had in the group home. The couples who would show up periodically when it was most convenient. They’d take her to their homes, show her what life could be like with a family, making promises and plans, only to vanish without warning.

Only with Dean, that promised family was already a reality. He just never knew it until it was taken away.

“I’m sorry,” Ingrid said finally, but got no response.

The residue from the sudden display of emotion hung in the car like a thick cloud, making the small space seem suffocating, unbearable.

For what felt like hours, Dean only drove, an intense but unreadable expression plastered on his face. The only audible sound was rubber on pavement. A humming, eerie quiet as the dark of the night became like a shadow following them, and the woods continued to grow thicker.

“We’re here,” Dean said finally.