Damian's Oracle (Chapter Two, page 1 of 10)


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Sonoran Desert, Arizona

The White God's Headquarters

Damian Bylun stared at the phone. It was a cold day in hell when someone dared hang up on the White God, the Defender of Mankind, the Tamer of Evil. Or, in the words of his closest friends, the BS Master of the Universe.

His phone rang, and he answered, expecting the woman to return his call with a few dozen apologies.

"Damian, I'm one of your … employees. My name is Jake H, employee number 0092841."

Damian opened his PDA to do a quick search on the number. He didn't know the names of everyone in the latest generation of his Guardians yet, especially not those working in the field.

Jake H. Organization year: 2000. Only his undercover agents contained such little information in his database. Jake was risking getting caught to call him.

"Where are you?" Damian asked.

"NOVA Sector HQ."

"Stay there." Damian hung up and looked at his executive officer and sparring partner. "Han, I'm going away for a few to the Northern Virginia Sector. Don't hold up dinner on my account." Han nodded, and Damian trotted into the 20,000-square-foot mansion in the middle of the Arizona desert he called home.

"Say hi to Laney!" Han called.

Damian waved to show he'd heard and then took the stairs two at a time to his room. He changed into all black and strapped a sword to his back before closing his eyes and envisioning the interior of NOVA Sector. In a blink, he'd Traveled there. One foot was immediately soaked. He looked down as two of his Guardians hopped up from their positions.

"Who the hell put a pool here?" he demanded, pulling his right foot out of the shallow end of an in-ground pool. The two Guardians looked at each other, neither certain how to respond.

"It was a brutal summer," an amused voice said. Han's brother Laney, one of Damian's oldest Guardians and the station chief for NOVA sector, leaned in the doorway to the main house with a smile.

Damian walked over to him. "Laney, good to see you," he said warmly, clapping him on the arm. "One of your boys called me."

"Yeah, he's been pacing like a madman for a couple of hours. He's a newbie. Be gentle."

"It's fucking cold here," he complained as he walked into the two-story house in suburban Washington, DC.

He saw the man who had called him pacing as Laney had indicated. Jake turned and stared at him, dropped an awkward bow, and straightened, his mouth lax. Damian sat down on the arm of a leather couch, accustomed to the reaction, and pulled off his boot to drain the water.

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