Forgotten Destiny 5

by Odette C. Bell

  He’d be answering for his crimes for the rest of his natural life.

  “I still can’t believe I’m the only one there that day who didn’t lose my magical powers,” Josh said as he brought a hand up, latched it on the back of his neck, and sighed.

  “What?”

  “Ha? Sorry, just thinking.”

  “You weren’t in the room when I stripped everyone of their magical powers, so of course you didn’t lose yours. You were also unconscious.”

  “Not my point. My point is that all you bastards got it easy.”

  I snorted. “Ha, how?”

  “Max gets to keep his old life, and nothing much is going to change for him. Even though he’s lost his opportunity finding magic, he’s still a shrewd businessman. He’ll bounce back. As for Jason? Now the bastard is no longer a trainee sorcerer, the government isn’t going to throw the book at him. Sure, they’ll do a review into his actions, but considering he was under his dad’s spell, they’ll probably let him off. Then he can go sip piña coladas on a beach somewhere. I,” Josh stabbed a thumb at his chest, “am the only one who’s going to be left over to keep the city safe.”

  I smiled as I took yet another biscuit. “Well, you’re pretty good at that. You’ll make it. We’re in good hands,” I added.

  “Good hands? Make those hands of yours useful by helping me with this report. I don’t care if you’re no longer one of my contracted employees – give me a hand already. And stop eating my frigging biscuits,” he added with a growl.

  “I’ve already done my own report,” I said as I leaned back and crossed my arms. “The case is closed,” I said with some finality. “And considering, in many ways, it was my first and only case,” I shrugged, “I get to knock off. Permanently.”

  Josh made a face at me.

  I leaned in for another biscuit. Before he could become charged and burn it right out of my hand, there was a knock on the door.

  I frowned. For just a second, I swore something in my stomach told me who it was.

  But it wasn’t magic, was it?

  It was a guess.

  And sure enough, I was right. After another knock, whoever it was let themselves in.

  Josh looked up sharply. “Ah, it must be Max. I invited him over,” Josh leaned over and slapped my hand before I could select another biscuit, “to help corroborate this report.”

  Josh got up and met Max in the corridor.

  Me?

  I hadn’t seen Max since the incident, though he’d written me a letter apologizing for everything.

  I could just sit here at the table and ignore him. That would be easier than confronting him face to face, wouldn’t it?

  Much easier than facing the man I’d thought I’d been destined to marry.

  But it wasn’t what I did.

  Because even now I was devoid of magic, I knew there was no point in taking the easier route.

  I stood up and walked out into the corridor. It was in time to see Max hand something to Josh. “My full story’s in here,” he said. Max’s gaze skipped past Josh and locked on me.

  Josh scratched his head. “You’re so efficient, Max. Looks like you’ve written a frigging thesis.”

  “There was a lot to explain,” Max said as he looked right at me.

  I stiffened.

  I wanted to keep looking at him, but I found my gaze darting to the floor.

  “Well, do you want to stay for dinner?” Josh tried.

  I wouldn’t look at Max. I really wanted to, but up this close, I felt so freaking foolish.

  Max paused for several seconds, then cleared his throat. “No, I need to be on my way. That’s why I prepared a report.”

  “Okay, then. I guess you can see yourself out. Bye, Max.”

  “Goodbye,” Max said. He let his gaze linger on me, then he turned and strode away.

  He opened the door and walked out onto the first step. And then, finally, I ran out and grabbed the door just before he could close it.

  He looked up at me, startled.

  I took a breath and looked down at him. “How are you adjusting? I mean… to not having magic?”

  He looked thoughtful. “I’m adjusting. Though it’s… confusing to have to find my own opportunities through normal guesswork and intelligence, I’m finding my feet. How about,” he looked down at his feet, then slowly up at me, “you?”

  I swallowed. “It’s better this way.”

  “Better?” He looked momentarily confused.

  “This way I get to decide what I want,” I said, and my voice did the weirdest thing.

  “I suppose there is something to say for choosing one’s fate. Anyway… I guess I’ll be going.”

  “… Okay.”

  “First… I need to apologize,” he began.

  I brought a hand up. And with all my sincerity, I shook my head. “You weren’t at fault, Max. You know that.”

  “My father and mother—” He looked to the side.

  “Controlled you. There’s nothing to apologize for, Max.”

  Max looked at me, swallowed, and nodded. “… I guess I’ll be going, then.”

  “… I guess.” Max turned to walk away, but he paused.

  The way he held his body almost reminded me of the time he followed us home after the incident at the stadium. That exact moment when he’d asked me to find my future husband – the moment that had kicked off this entire mess.

  The wind caught his hair, ruffling it over his head.

  “… Max?” I managed.

  He turned to walk away, then stopped once more. It was obvious he was fighting with his conscience, deciding to ask me something or not.

  I pushed forward, clasping my hand around the door tighter. “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” I managed, assuming it would be yet another revelation.

  “It’s not really something I can tell you to do,” it’s more,” he brought up a hand, pushed his finger into his collar, and pulled it out, “a request. Or at least… an invite.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Never mind,” he said. Then he went to turn around, but he stopped once more.

  “Max, this isn’t like you – you usually know your mind,” I said quietly.

  This brought a small smile to his lips. “Blame it on the fact that a sorcerer, in saving the world, eliminated finding magic. I must say, I feel lost these days. I don’t know what’s advantageous and what isn’t.”

  I smiled at him warmly. “I’m taking a while to adjust, too. But there’s a secret.”

  “There is?”

  I nodded confidently. “Use this,” I patted a hand on my heart, “and this.” I patted my other hand on my head.

  This saw him laugh. It was slow and melodious and so easy to listen to.

  “Very well, I will use this,” he placed a hand on his chest, “and this,” he placed a hand on his head, “to do this,” he breathed. “Bethany Samson, would you like to have dinner with me?”

  I froze.

  He took my inaction the wrong way, let his hands drop, and bowed low. “I apologize—”

  “No, wait,” I said way too quickly. “I just… there’s no prophecy anymore, Max. The never was one. There wasn’t anything drawing us together. That was all a lie—”

  “I haven’t forgotten any of that. Believe me,” he said as he shifted his gaze to the side. “But on the advice of a certain ex-witch, I am moving on. I was wondering… if you’d like to move on with me?”

  I stood there, and I stared at Max.

  There was nothing epic drawing us together anymore. There was no overarching reason or purpose connecting us through time and space.

  … Unless we chose to be together. Even then, fate wouldn’t be on our side, as fate didn’t exist.

  But our hearts and minds? They could be on our side if we chose to make them so.

  I pushed forward, releasing the door. I nodded. “I’d love to, but I can’t really afford to pay,” I said as I scratched my head awkwardly. “I’m o
ut of employment.”

  “I think I can afford it.”

  We both chuckled.

  Then silence set in.

  He looked awkwardly down at his hands. “I suppose I’ll call you to make a time—”

  I reached behind the door and grabbed my jacket, pulling it around my shoulders. “There’s no time like the present, Max.”

  I stood next to him on the doorstep. I smiled up at him.

  He stared down at me. “Bethany Samson,” he said, his voice suddenly breathless, “I’ve never met anyone like you. I half wonder if this is fate.”

  I looked right at him. Then I grabbed his hand and pressed my fingers through his. I angled my face up high. “Maximus C. Knights, this isn’t fate. It’s something far more powerful. It’s choice.”

  The wind took our hair, and my fringe gently danced in front of my face.

  Max tentatively reached up a hand, and when I didn’t shift back, he thumbed my stray strands behind my ears.

  We looked at each other.

  If this were the past, we would have kissed. Fate would have brought us together. The strands of our destiny would have wound around us, drawing us in. Because that’s how fate worked. It took the choice out of things. You didn’t need to find things that mattered to you – because they’d already been found for you.

  But now? It was time to seek my own opportunities.

  The end of the Forgotten Destiny series.

  Lying Witch – Sample Chapter

  If you liked this series, you might also like A Lying Witch. A Lying Witch is complete, and you can purchase each episode separately, or buy the entire series in A Lying Witch: The Complete Series.

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  Chi McLane likes to lie. It's part of her job. She's a fortuneteller and will happily lie about your future for a fee.

  Then she encounters a problem. She's just inherited her grandmother's house. That's not so bad, right? Wrong. Because the house comes with a book, and the book comes with a curse.

  Suddenly Chi finds herself thrust into the gritty world of a seer. Yeah, because magic exists, and it ain't pretty.

  Oh, and there's another problem. One with broad shoulders, a deep Scottish accent, and a killer smile. Turns out he's her magical bodyguard, and he's here to stay.

  Chi is pushed into a realm of violent magic, petty lies, and a curse that will haunt her until the day she dies.

  ….

  A Lying Witch is a four-book series sure to please fans of Odette C. Bell's The Enchanted Writes. All four books and a Complete Series Box set are currently available.

  The storm raged overhead, pounding through the yard, shaking the trees that stood sentinel by the house, and rattling the windows.

  Joan sat at her kitchen table facing Max. She stared down the barrel of his gun and didn't flinch.

  Max sneered, his lips curling up hard, accentuating his strong jaw. “It’s time to pay your dues. Joan, you turned from your power. For that, you will die.”

  Joan didn't react as the man lifted the gun, as a massive bolt of lightning struck the street outside and lit up the kitchen in a blast of iridescent light. As it spilled through the room, it lit up the man’s massive form. Just as the light receded, it highlighted the shadow behind his left shoulder. A shadow from the past.

  She shifted her gaze from Max and locked it on his shadow. As her eyes readjusted to the gloom, she picked out the long broadsword slung at the shadow’s side, the tanned leather hides strung across his back, the glint of power and domination in his eyes.

  “Yes, I turned from the future,” she replied. “But only so I could create a better one. You cannot understand that, McCane, but trust me – it’s far more important.”

  The real man – Max – stood, pushing up from his chair, his perfectly formed shadow following him – pulling him up, in fact, as it kept a dark hand locked against Max’s shoulder.

  Max’s camel-colored leather boots ground into the polished floorboards, his bones creaking with a sound no normal human would make, as his shadow – McCane – smiled mirthlessly.

  Joan stared from McCane’s enraged gaze to the muzzle of the gun.

  “I'll come for your granddaughter. And mark my words,” McCane controlled Max’s mouth, “she will fall to me.”

  “And mark my words,” Joan pressed her old, stiff hands into the edge of her table and rose, “she will not. She will realize what you are. She'll realize what these powers cost. She won't allow you to turn her into a husk so you can finally end your loneliness, McCane. Not my granddaughter. She will not see your future – she will create her own.”

  “No. She’ll be mine. I will finally have my perfect seer. I will force her to use her powers until they consume her.”

  “No,” Joan’s voice punched high and rattled with a blast. “She will break your curse and save what’s left of you.” Joan’s eyes shifted off the shadow and locked on the real man as he stood opposite her.

  And that real man? He fired.

  The bullet ripped from the gun and plunged through the center of her chest, disappearing in a flash of light.

  Joan was dead before her lifeless old body struck the polished floorboards of her kitchen.

  The shadow remained for several seconds, sneering at the old woman’s lifeless, dead body. But McCane could not remain forever. The past would call him back. He would not be capable of remaining in this time until she opened his door.

  In the time that remained, he turned and stared upon his other self. Max. The scrap of McCane’s soul that was not locked in the past – his only hope that the future would finally be his.

  In a flash of light, McCane disappeared, his shadow shattering apart like a mirror dropping onto flagstones.

  Max rocked back on his feet, confusion swamping his body, tearing at his fragile memories like wild animals to flesh.

  He dropped the gun as a haze flooded through his mind. The gun struck the polished, blood-stained black and white tile with a clatter, immediately disappearing in a curling wisp of black smoke.

  He staggered towards the open French doors and fled into the night.

  He would return, for McCane was not done using him yet.

  The rest of this series is currently available.