Fate Forged

by B. P. Donigan

  I rubbed away the memory of a sharp knife across my neck. Marcel had been a victim of the Brotherhood. They’d killed him to steal his magic. And I'd somehow gotten stuck with his memories. I didn't even know Marcel or how that could have happened. There was no explanation for why any of this had happened to me or how Father Mike knew all of this stuff about magic and other realms. I opened my mouth with a million questions, but they all pushed to the front, jumbling together.

  Father Mike scooped the backpack off the desk. “I know you have more questions, but we need to leave before they find you."

  Chapter Three

  “None of this makes sense.” I tried to stop my brain from spinning. Maybe I wasn’t crazy after all, but everything I believed had just flipped on its head and then done three more backflips.

  The father squeezed the tops of my arms. “Maeve, I know this is hard to accept. I’ll explain everything on the road.” He shouldered the backpack. “Right now, we don’t have time. We need to get you—” His eyes darted over my shoulder, and he froze.

  The newcomer from the alley stood in the doorway. I jumped to my feet.

  A frown played across the man’s face as he examined both of us, slowly twisting Ripper in his left hand. His long sword was noticeably absent, and he didn’t even look as though he’d just fought for his life half an hour ago in an alley with a freaking sword. The man took a single step inside the office, and it was hard not to step back automatically from the force of his presence.

  He raised his chin at me. “Who is she?”

  The father rocked on his feet and licked his lips. “An Earthen child. An orphan with no family.” He shifted toward me, subtly positioning himself between me and the newcomer. “And you are?”

  The man’s brow furrowed. “You may call me Lord Valeron.”

  Lord Valeron? This guy needed to be brought down a peg. Or ten.

  His Lordly Highness had dark, road-worn clothing that matched the way his mouth twisted down at the corners. His dark hair was cut military-short, and he was tall, maybe six feet, with broad shoulders, and he was currently blocking the only exit. We wouldn’t be getting past him without a fight.

  Father Mike’s stance had gone rigid. “You’re Silas Valeron, the son of Lord Commander Valeron?”

  The man’s lips pursed a tiny fraction, turning down at the corners. “The same. I wasn’t aware of any Harvesters in Boston.”

  “I’m traveling through on my return to Aeterna,” Father Mike said. “Ending my post.”

  His expression twisted into a suspicious glare. “The leader of the Brotherhood attacked her. Do you know why? Who is she?”

  Father Mike glanced at me with wide eyes, silently communicating danger. “I believe she interrupted a Transference ritual, and the spell endowed her with power taken from the Brotherhood, my lord.”

  My head whipped toward Father Mike. He definitely hadn’t mentioned that earlier. I didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, but I could figure out the gist of it. And if I had stolen power from this murderous Brotherhood cult, they were not going to just let me slip off quietly. I was so screwed.

  His nose wrinkled as he sized me up and apparently found me lacking. “She did this on her own?”

  My temper flared. The past few hours had been an emotional rollercoaster, and I’d lost control of just about everything happening in my life. I was beyond done.

  I held out my hand. “Give me my knife.”

  One of his eyebrows arched. He held up Ripper in his open palm. “You should not carry this knife with you all the time.”

  “Says the guy with a sword,” I said, letting my irritation color my voice.

  Father Mike cleared his throat. “If I may... Lord Silas is referring to a Tracer spell. It connects a familiar object back to its owner, which is how he followed you from the street.” He frowned, possibly because carrying around a knife didn’t fit his idea of how I should be living my life.

  I ignored the old disagreement and wiggled my extended fingers at Lord Asshole. “My knife?”

  Silas jerked his head in a brisk, impatient motion and curled his fingers tight around my knife. “I will escort you both to Aeterna. The Council can determine what to do with her.”

  I opened my mouth to object, but Father Mike beat me to it. “With respect, Lord Valeron”—he twisted his hands together—“taking Maeve to the Council is not advisable.”

  Silas’s face darkened. “She’s not your concern any longer.”

  “I can take her out of Boston, away from the Brotherhood, where she’ll be safe. The Council needn’t—”

  “She is safe under my protection. The Council will want her.”

  I snorted loudly. There was no way I was safe with him or his Council.

  Silas’s irritation shifted to me. “This is not a debate. You will return with me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I gave him my hard stare. I didn’t care if he was hot shit in his world; I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me in mine.

  Annoyance spread over his face, but he didn’t say a thing. He just stared, waiting for me to bow and kiss his ring.

  Rage made me itchy. My glare drifted to Ripper, which was still gripped in his left hand.

  “Maeve, please be calm.” Father Mike’s voice was a whisper. “Your magic is unstable right now—”

  His warning came too late. Power tingled across my skin. Light flared, and an electric wave of energy rolled through me. I blinked, and threads of white magic danced around the room.

  Brilliant golden power flooded the space around Silas a fraction of a second later. With a quickness that spoke of experience, he crouched into a defensive stance. “Her flare!”

  Father Mike’s hands rose from his sides, palms facing me. “Maeve, you need to stay calm. Just—”

  “Stop immediately!” Silas ordered.

  He did not get to tell me what to do! He needed to shut his stupid face. Every word out of his mouth pissed me off.

  “Mae?” Father Mike drew my attention with the familiar nickname. “I need you to focus. Take a deep breath, okay? You can control this.”

  The father stepped between Silas and me with a panicked look. A realization cut through my angry haze—I was in danger and making it worse. Father Mike was trying to help me.

  Attempting to ignore Lord Asshole, I focused on my breathing. Like unstopping a drain, the energy faded until the glow of magic disappeared. I felt strangely empty as my anger transformed into confusion. “Someone needs to tell me what’s going on.”

  “The Brotherhood cannot get this power back,” Silas said, his face hard. “You will return with me to Aeterna immediately.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so.” I tried to keep the anger under control, but if he didn’t stop ordering me around, I was going to lose my temper again. “If the Brotherhood is trying to kill me to get whatever the hell is stuck inside me, why should I trust your Council to do any differently?”

  He opened his mouth to argue with me then shrugged, either in agreement or a lack of caring; I couldn’t tell which. “I give you my word no harm will come to you.”

  “I don’t trust you either.”

  I expected him to be pissed off and demand that I trust him. But his face remained completely neutral as he said, “That’s probably wise.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “But,” he continued, “you don’t have another option. Either the Brotherhood will find you, or the Council will. You can’t hide from both.”

  “I don’t give two shits what you think my options are. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

  In two long, aggressive strides, he towered over me, scowling. “I won’t let your power fall back into their hands, even if I have to kill you to stop it from happening.”

  Father Mike laid his hand on my shoulder, breaking our glaring contest, and cleared his throat softly. “My lord, I don’t mean to overstep, but if what I have heard about you is true... can you not sh
ow mercy to this innocent? She has no part in our world, no understanding of the consequences of her actions.”

  Silas’s perma-scowl twisted into a tight glare. His right hand curled, making me recall the sword he had gripped in the same hand earlier that night.

  “The Council will not hesitate to use her,” Father Mike continued. “She has no Sect to protect her, no family influence to draw on. The Council will drain the magic from her without hesitation. She’s just a child, an innocent who deserves a chance to return to her Mundane life.”

  Silas stalked to the far side of the room, his back to us.

  This whole business was insane. Just days ago, I was making things work on my own. Mopping floors at the hospital and pulling under-the-table shifts at restaurants weren’t glamorous, but I didn’t owe anyone anything. At the moment, my freedom depended on the mercy of the asshat in front of me. I desperately wished to go back to my normal life before tortured memories, stolen magic, sword fights, and evil Councils.

  “What would you have me do?” Silas finally asked. “She has a decided lack of options.”

  “Take her to a Fate,” Father Mike suggested. “If they can remove the magic the Brotherhood transferred to her, the Council doesn’t need to know about her, and the Brotherhood will have no reason to harm her.”

  “An audience with a Fate would require Lord Alaric’s blessing.” Silas dismissed the idea with a short wave of his hand. “The Council will never allow her to do so if they think the magic she possesses would be lost to them.”

  “If a Fate can help me,” I argued, “I’ll deal with this Alaric guy. I just want this nightmare to be over.”

  Silas guffawed and continued wearing out the linoleum. “You’re not ready to ‘deal’ with Lord Alaric. He’d run you to the post and back.”

  Lord Asshole was not being helpful.

  “However...” Silas stopped pacing and stared at me with a speculative expression. His lips drew into a thin line. “I will take you to the Fate if you agree to a condition.”

  “What condition?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

  “If we’re not able to remove the power, you will submit yourself to the Council for safe keeping in their service.”

  I frowned. He said the Council would use me for the power trapped inside of me—and that sounded a lot like a lifetime of servitude.

  “Taking her into Aeterna is not an option!” Father Mike argued.

  “It’s her only option.” Silas paused for a long moment, and his steel-gray eyes bored into mine. “If she does not agree, I will take her to the Council now.”

  The threat hung in the air for a second, and I had no doubt he was dead serious. He would toss me over his shoulder and drag me off in a heartbeat. Like the pigheaded caveman he clearly was.

  “The Council will kill her,” Father Mike insisted.

  “If she agrees to my offer, I’ll do my best to prevent that. But yes, they’re unpredictable, and I cannot guarantee the outcome if the Fate cannot help her first.”

  He turned to me, suddenly deciding I could be part of the conversation. “The Council’s decision is unknown. But there is no doubt the Brotherhood will kill you. When they find you, they will perform a Transference ritual that will strip the magic from you in what I understand is a painful death. I’m offering you a chance to avoid either outcome.”

  I remembered Marcel’s death at Titus’s hands and tried to focus on breathing. So my options were death or certain death. My life kept getting shorter by the minute. I had to get rid of the power stuck inside of me. “If I go with you, you’ll swear to protect me from both of them as best you can?”

  “I swear it,” Silas said solemnly.

  There had to be a loophole in his deal somewhere. “Where is this Fate?” I asked.

  “The location of the Fate’s temple is fluid, but there is one in this realm. It will be difficult, but I can take you to it without alerting the Council.”

  “Vague much?”

  Father Mike placed his hand on my shoulder. “Seeking a Fate will give you time to figure out your options.” He searched my face, urging me to agree, but I could tell he wasn’t happy with this deal either. “You can’t stay here with the Brotherhood after you,” he continued. “This is the only way to keep you safe now.”

  I didn’t trust this uptight Lord Silas, and I definitely didn’t trust his Aeternal Council. But I did trust Father Mike. And honestly, I was flat out of choices. I couldn’t stay in Boston with a murderous rebel cult after me, and I couldn’t let the evil magic Council snatch me up either.

  I studied Silas and wondered what his true motivations were. My world had done a one-eighty in the past twenty-four hours, and now my fate depended on this man. “Why are you willing to help me?”

  “Because I can.” His face remained completely neutral—a blank mask.

  I narrowed my eyes. That wasn’t enough.

  “Innocents deserve protection,” he added.

  Maybe so, but he had other motivations I didn’t understand. I waited, but he didn’t offer any other explanation. My thoughts went to Marcel. Titus had tortured and killed Marcel, and the intensity of his memories threatened to overwhelm me. The Brotherhood had already tried to kill me once, and they would be back. Everything I’d heard about the Council—all of it terrible—meant they would be after me soon too. I had to do something. I needed to get rid of this power and these god-awful memories of torture, and I needed to do it as soon as possible.

  “Take me to the Fate,” I decided. “I agree to your condition.” If I couldn’t get rid of the magic, I would figure out a way to deal with the Council later. Possible death was better than certain death.

  Silas strode over to me. I locked my knees in place as he towered over me, scowling, all muscle and hard lines. He held out his hand, palm up. When I just stood there, he sighed at my obvious reluctance to touch him. “I’m offering you an oath of protection.”

  After a beat, I placed my right hand into his. Warm, calloused fingers slid up my forearm, pushing the sleeve of my shirt higher. A bright glow surrounded us, and I caught my breath. I could see the golden magic as it wound around us, the pattern of it as clear as handwriting.

  The magic bit me in the arm.

  “Shit!” I pulled my arm free and gaped at my forearm. A translucent glow faded into my skin, leaving behind a mark of two overlapping circles bisected by thick, curling lines. He’d just tattooed my other arm! “What did you do to me?”

  “The Aegis sigil brands you and places you under my protection.” His tone implied that I should have been grateful.

  “You can’t just brand people. I’m not a cow!”

  Silas and I glared at each other again. Father Mike moved between us, and the blood drained from his face. “I should go with you.”

  “No,” Silas commanded. “Return and report to the Council. They must be informed of the Brotherhood’s whereabouts here in Boston. Tell them I remained behind to track Titus.”

  “What about Maeve?”

  “They need not concern themselves with her yet,” Silas said. “I will take her to the Fate first.”

  Father Mike didn’t back down. “The Council will not be happy that you’re helping her. They’ve killed people for less. How will you protect Maeve if you’re dead?”

  Silas bared his teeth. “I’m hard to kill.”

  He was dangerous—no question—and so far past the point of confident that he was arrogant. I didn’t trust him or understand his motives. But I did believe the oath he gave bound him to protect me. I could feel it, like a tether between us. As long as he was alive, I would keep breathing too. I just had to believe he was too damn stubborn to die.

  Chapter Four

  Father Mike gave me the keys to his Taurus and the backpack. Inside I found several folded maps, a wad of cash, and a passport. I flipped the blue cover open to a picture of me. He’d had this prepared in advance. I had so many burning questions.

  “Father, I don’t understa
nd what’s going on. Why can’t you—”

  The father glanced over my shoulder at Silas, who circled the car with an intense scrutiny that suggested he’d never been inside one.

  “Don’t let him take you back to Aeterna,” the father whispered.

  “I won’t,” I promised. I jerked my head toward Lord Asshole. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “I’m confident he’ll keep his oath to protect you. From what I know about his past, he has some issues with the Council, and right now, he’s willing to help you for his own reasons. But remember, he has a lot of blood on his hands in the Council’s name, and he’s loyal to them. If you can’t reach the Fate, he won’t hesitate to turn you over to the Council. Don’t try running either. He’ll catch you and consider the oath broken. For now, he’s your best protection... until he isn’t. Stay with him until I come for you.”

  That wasn’t at all reassuring. “I don’t understand any of this,” I whispered. A lump welled up in my throat. Even though we were headed for a possible solution, leaving Father Mike seemed like going from bad to worse.

  “My dearest Maeve.” He pulled me into a hug. “I’ll find you as soon as I can. Focus on keeping yourself safe until I’m back, and I can explain everything.”

  “What are you going to tell the Council?” A terrifying thought occurred to me. “What if they realize you’re lying?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m an Aeternal citizen; I have protections.” His voice lowered. “Listen, the Council can’t learn any more about your powers. Don’t access your magic again if you can help it. They’ll kill for the power inside you... even with Lord Valeron’s oath.”

  “Don’t worry. I couldn’t do anything with this, uh, magic even if I wanted to.” I stumbled over the word and the idea that the magic was now somehow mine. “That reminds me.” I dug into my pocket and handed him the small golden charm I’d found in the basement.