Seeking Fate

by Brenda Drake

  “He’s my nephew and Alfonzo’s great-grandson,” Miri said, emphasizing each English word and dropping the most revered Thorn elder ever to clarify Andrei’s lineage. “He’s welcome here.”

  “This is only for elders and tier levels two through four,” Lavinia said. “Level ones are too young to attend meetings. And besides, he was never a member.”

  Miri took a deep breath and lengthened her spine. That move said she was serious. She wouldn’t back down. “He has a grievance,” she said. “It states in Article III, paragraph 3B that any family member can bring up concerns when an acting member threatens, or harms, said family member.” She took a step closer to Lavinia. “Where are your boys? Have you checked the Paris prison?”

  Lavinia paled.

  “Excuse us,” Miri said, a smug smile on her face as she passed Lavinia. Andrei kept his focus forward when he went by her.

  The leaders ran The Thorn gathering like a regular we-don’t-kill-innocent-fate-changers meeting. Complete with a board and a secretary taking minutes. Andrei wanted to read the minutes from every meeting the group ever held. He was sure it wouldn’t be light reading. It’d probably be more like a horror novel.

  They spoke in Romanian, so Andrei had no idea what was going on. He’d catch a word here and there. Like bani, which meant money, and zi for day and lună for month.

  He leaned over to whisper in Miri’s ear. “What are they saying?”

  “They’re going over dues.” She hadn’t looked at him since she’d sat down, crossed her legs, and rested her folded hands on her lap. Andrei followed her glare. It was on a small, balding man, about seventysomething, sitting at the head table. Her gaze shifted to a thin woman with ratty, dyed blond hair who was making them all uncomfortable.

  Every muscle in Andrei’s body tensed. Glancing around the room at all the faces, he couldn’t help but think every one of them would kill Daisy. For what? Some stupid religious belief. Because she had a gift? They’d all have to go through him to get to her, and he wouldn’t go down easy.

  Andrei tapped his foot and pulled at his collar. The room was like a sauna.

  Miri grasped his knee. “Why are you nervous?”

  “Really?” He could feel the sarcasm in the look he gave her. “Probably because we’re at a meeting with a bunch of murderers.”

  “I told you before,” she said. “There’s a small subgroup of members who want to eliminate fate changers. The majority of The Thorns are just religious fanatics with old-world beliefs. Not murderers.”

  The small, balding man cleared his throat before speaking. He rattled off a string of Romanian words and the board members started gathering their things.

  “What’s going on?” Andrei asked.

  Miri whispered, “Since no agenda items were submitted prior to tonight’s meeting, he’s closing it. ”

  Miri stood and said something in Romanian. He caught the word Engleză.

  “Thank you, Omor. I’m sure Andrei will appreciate knowing what’s being said,” she continued. “I would like to bring a matter up with the board.”

  The man scratched his scalp. “There isn’t a request for it.”

  “I don’t need one,” Miri said, tapping Andrei’s shoulder and nodding for him to set up his laptop to the projector on the far side of the head table. “It’s merely suggested that a motion is presented to the board before a meeting. You are required to allow fifteen minutes after your meeting for any concerns or announcements that the membership wants to add.”

  Andrei crossed in front of the head table, the balding man’s beady eyes following him. “What’s he doing?” the man asked.

  “Never mind him,” Miri said. “I would like a response.”

  The man whispered something to the tall woman on his right. She said something back before he returned his focus on Miri. “All right, fifteen minutes. What is it that you want to address?”

  “Are you all set?” Miri’s voice was authoritative and somewhat scary.

  “Just a sec,” Andrei called over his shoulder, connecting the last wire. He turned on the projector and his laptop, then inserted the flash drive. There was only one video on the drive, so he clicked play.

  A man popped up on the grainy screen. Behind him, stood a messy bookcase filled with more stacks of papers and folders than books. He had dark, wavy hair and thick black glasses that kept slipping down his nose and he’d push them back up. He sort of resembled a thirty-year-old Albert Einstein.

  “Buna dimineata.” The man spoke in Romanian, but there were English subtitles.

  “Is it on?” he asked someone off camera.

  “Yes,” a woman’s soft voice said.

  His eyes were looking off somewhere in the room. “All right.” He focused on the camera. “Good morning. I come today with a disturbing discovery.” His heavy-lidded eyes seemed tired. “The images included in this video are horrific. They’re inhumane. For centuries, The Thorn has ignored the atrocities committed by some of its members. This secret group hunted and killed people they believed to be a danger to our faith. Please do understand this is not our belief. A select few have turned radical and have interpreted the Bible to fit their sick views. I pause now to show you images. Be warned, you will see many of your loved ones past and present in these photographs.”

  The slideshow started, flipping through graphic images of tortures and murders. Gasps filled the room with each change. After many minutes and tons of pictures, the man flashed back on.

  “The Thorn is a group that harbors evil,” he continued. “We cannot let these acts and this group to continue. It must be disbanded. I have decided to share this with the authorities. I am sorry, but there will be many arrests. You may wonder how I can go against my father. Well, I am ashamed to be his son. He knows of these atrocities and has done nothing. Not even when shown proof. It’s time to do what’s right. Please stand with me and show that you are not a part of this evil.”

  “Thank you, Andrei,” Miri said.

  Andrei turned off the projector and packed up his laptop. On his return to his seat, he kept his eyes forward until he reclaimed his chair.

  Miri walked in front of the head table. Her back to the board members, she focused on the packed room. “Dorin died shortly after that recording in 1992. He was a good friend.” Her dark, stormy eyes touched one stunned face at a time as she spoke, making the receivers squirm a little in his or her chair. “When I found this recording in a box of his things a few years ago, I didn’t have a VHS player to watch the many tapes that were inside. Only recently, did I have them transferred to a flash drive.”

  The balding man shot to his feet. “Fake. It’s not real. You…you—” Spit flew off each angry word. “You made it up somehow. A trick. With a computer. Spliced things together or something.”

  A large man with jet-black hair stood in the back. “Dorin is just sitting there. There’s no splicing. It’s real. Miri wouldn’t lie.”

  Miri’s gaze traveled down the middle aisle to the man. “Thank you, Rod.”

  “How do we know this is true?” a woman shouted from one of the seats.

  Miri paced in front of the first row before stopping in front of Andrei.

  Another man yelled, “Dorin always a rebel that one. Who can believe him?”

  Andrei shot an incredulous look at the man. “The photographs. Records.”

  “As said, they could be staged,” the man returned.

  “Sit down,” a woman snapped. “He was an activist. A man of honor.”

  Miri squeezed Andrei’s shoulder as if to tell him to let her handle it. “The images were tested. Every one of them are real. And Dorin, he wasn’t a rebel. As Georgeta said, he only wished to right the wrongs of this group.”

  A woman, frail and almost unable to remain on her feet, glared at the board members. “Nicolae, you disgrace us all.”

  “How dare you!” Nicolae looked as if he’d bust a vein in his temple. “We are innocent of these atrocities.”

&
nbsp; Miri spun away from Andrei. He couldn’t see her face, but he could imagine it twisted in anger. “Liar. You aren’t innocent. Why do you think Dorin hated you? His own father? It’s because he knew your secrets.”

  The murmurs swarming the room were excited and scared.

  “But these are crimes of the past,” a man of about forty said.

  Miri faced the crowd. “I assure you they aren’t. Just this past week, a girl was hunted by members of The Thorn.” Her glare went to Lavinia. “She’s a fate changer.”

  The murmurs grew louder.

  An extremely thin woman, hair pulled into a tight bun, said, “Fate changers are myths. They don’t exist.”

  “They do exist,” Miri said. “There was a big community of them several centuries ago. The majority were hunted and killed. The few remaining went into hiding. This girl is a Froggatt descendant.”

  Another voice shouted, “She’s dangerous. We must do something.”

  Andrei shot out of his seat, his eyes searching the room. His hands fisted as if he were ready for a fight. “Who said that? She’s not dangerous. If you knew her, you wouldn’t think that. Changing fates hurts her, yet she risks her life often to save others. And she’s just a young girl. She only wants to do good with her gift.”

  “It’s all right, Andrei.” Miri nodded for him to sit down.

  He dropped onto the chair, his hands still balled up tight, jaw set.

  She addressed the board, “The video never made it to the authorities. I’ve done what Dorin couldn’t. I’ve delivered a copy to the police. There will be an investigation. It will start with the board members, past and present.”

  “It will go nowhere,” Nicolae said.

  “Maybe so,” she said, “But for those of you not a part of this radical arm of The Thorn, I suggest you denounce them today. Return your rings to the board. End your support, or you will go down with them. The days of The Thorn are no more. We must stop them.”

  “What about the accounts of the group?” someone asked.

  “They have been frozen until after the investigation. The courts will decide what to do with the money.” Miri went to her seat and gathered her bag and sweater into her arms.

  As she and Andrei headed for the door. A member weaved through the chairs and approached the head table, placing his ring of thorns on the table. Miri paused at the door and watched as each member went to the head table and tossed their rings in front of the balding man and the board members on either side of him.

  Miri grabbed Andrei’s hand, squeezed, then released it. “Our Daisy will be safe for now.”

  “We didn’t find the cursed heir. What if we don’t?” Andrei would never admit it to anyone, but he was scared.

  “There’s no way of knowing how much time she has,” she said. “It depends on the heir’s age and how long it is until his eighteenth birthday. It could be today or eighteen years from now. We have to continue searching.”

  Daisy’s beautiful face with the light dusting of freckles flipped across his mind. The memory of her laughter echoed in his ears. He could almost smell her floral perfume. His heart ached to be with her.

  He wouldn’t stop searching for the last firstborn. Couldn’t. Not with her fate tied to the remaining heir. Not when she could die with him.

  “I can’t leave without knowing she’s okay,” he said.

  “She’ll only be in Amsterdam a few more days,” Miri said. “I’ll keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in Ocean City after the wedding. You set up your new life in New York. We’ll continue the search for the heir, and we won’t stop until we find him.”

  “It’s still hard.” It was more than that. It was as if his heart was being ripped from his chest. Like he was abandoning her.

  Miri tilted her head in that way she did when she was concerned. “Maybe the curse is already broken. You did mention an older twin died. Maybe he was the last firstborn.”

  Andrei wanted to hold onto that false hope, but he had an awful feeling that Daisy was still in danger.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Daisy

  Elaborate floral arrangements decorated the Van Burens’ castle and grounds. Daisy wished she could’ve helped make them. The gardens were lush and full of blooms. There were strings of lights on the trees, and Daisy could imagine them lit up at night. It would be like walking in a fairy tale. But one problem, her prince wouldn’t be with her.

  Her prince was on his way to New York City. She could sense the distance between them growing.

  She had texted with Andrei almost on the hour before his plane departed. He had helped Miri bring down The Thorn. It was all over the news. The police arrested many of their members for various crimes. Investigators were also trying to match up unsolved murders to the images in Dorin’s video. She should’ve felt relieved that no scary hunters were after her, but it was overshadowed by not knowing who the final cursed heir was.

  Her family gathered into chairs on the terrace for the welcome brunch. There were several parties and events scheduled for the week before the wedding. So many relatives of Reese’s were in attendance that it felt like the main event.

  For the last five years, Aster had been away at college. After graduating, she got a job in Boston and moved there with Reese. Her sister had grown even prettier since Daisy last saw her at Christmas, and Reese, more handsome. Though they were only twenty-two and twenty-three respectively, they decided to get married. Aster wore a soft-yellow dress to the brunch while her soon-to-be groom wore a navy suit. They moved around the tables effortlessly talking to their guests as if her sister were born royal.

  Daisy crossed her legs and smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress. Running her hand across the cream chiffon brought back the memory of she and Andrei dancing in the hotel’s pool atrium in the Alps. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a small wine stain close to the hem. It was really only a red drop, but it was there. Her lips tugged into a smile at the secret it represented.

  “That dress looks amazing on you,” Miri said, seemingly appearing out of thin air.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” Daisy stood and gave Miri a tight hug.

  Miri squeezed her in turn. “You’re missing Andrei.”

  “Yes,” Daisy said, sitting back down. “I wish he could be here.”

  “I’m sure he does, too.” Miri dragged a chair over to Daisy’s side.

  Daisy scooted over to give Miri more room. “Thank you for what you did. For taking down The Thorn.”

  “It should have happened ages ago. Dorin tried. He was a kind person and a good friend. I miss him. The police think his death wasn’t an accident.” Miri lowered her head and wiped her eyes. “Drat, all this nature stuff. My allergies are acting up.”

  It had to be hard to face that reality. Daisy wished she could do something for Miri. Instead, she sat in silence with Miri, waiting for her to recover. It was bittersweet glancing around at all the guests on the patio. She missed Andrei. Wanted him there with her.

  Her sisters and their significant others looked happy. Iris and Wade shared a plate of fruit. Violet and Dena captured the moment with a selfie. And the couple of the hour, Aster and Reese, strolled around the table, making conversations and performing their duties flawlessly. Aster seemed born to it.

  Gram sat straight in her chair, hands folded on the table, taking in all the commotion around her. Leah, the maid of honor, leaned against her husband and best man, Jan. Mom and Dad huddled together, sharing jokes and laughing like high school sweethearts again.

  Daisy was still getting used to the fact that her parents were back together. They’d be empty nesters soon, with Daisy leaving for college in a few months. The only kid at home, Daisy witnessed the courtship of her parents. At times, all the PDA was awkward, but she was pleased they were happy.

  “I could use a drink.” Miri interrupted Daisy’s thoughts. “Come on, I spotted a punch bowl with tons of fruit in it on my way in.”

  Daisy picked up her smal
l, quilted purse with a floral design and trailed Miri around chairs and people to a table with a structure on it, which was nothing like any punch bowl she’d ever seen. Pink liquid flowed from three fountains surrounded by lights and topped with flower arrangements.

  “Now this is impressive.” Daisy picked up a crystal cup and held it under one of the streams.

  Miri did the same, and they headed back to the table. “I’m going to say hello to your grandmother.”

  “All right,” Daisy said, watching Miri make a beeline for Gram.

  A couple with a young boy arrived, and Reese quickly greeted them. They seemed familiar to Daisy, but she couldn’t figure out why. She took a seat beside Jan just as a staff member rang a bell to announce service. Those standing rushed to their seats.

  “I dare say, Daisy,” Jan was overly exuberant. No doubt happy that Reese was joining the married sect. “You are growing up nicely. If you aren’t careful, you’ll break many hearts.”

  “He should know,” Leah said, her blond hair up in a twist. She was four months pregnant, and she still looked like a model. Although, one with a little paunch. “Since he’s broken exactly none.”

  Jan exaggerated a hurt look on his face. “You crush me.”

  “How many hearts can one break getting hitched so young?” Daisy said and immediately wondered why she had. Especially, with the hurt expression on Leah’s face. “I don’t mean that’s a bad thing.” But she totally meant it was. They married when they were nineteen. And they wanted to. Not forced to. “Obviously, you two are the exception.”

  Leah’s face brightened. “Right? We’re so perfect together.”

  “Like hogs to mud,” Jan added.

  “Stop trying to be American,” Leah said lightheartedly. “You’re totally failing. And you’re stereotyping.”

  Aster came up behind Daisy and leaned over her side. “Hey, do you mind switching with me? I haven’t had time with Leah and Jan since they arrived in Amsterdam.”

  “Sorry, guys, I’m getting kicked out of this seat.” Daisy scooted her chair out. “Well, enjoy the brunch.” She dodged servers as she moved to Aster’s abandoned seat.