Seducing Destiny (Brothers of Fate Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  “Luci, stop.” Blake’s firm words shattered her welling panic. He rested a hand on her arm. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “Bullshit, it’s not,” she said. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He was one of them, and when someone had immortality, how could they care for a human life? The thought added more guilt to the pile growing inside her. That wasn’t fair, and thinking it didn’t help her feel any better, but she wanted it to.

  Marley knelt next to her and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Hey. What can I do?”

  “Bring them back. Make that not happen.” Luci nodded at the TV. “You’re a god, right? Give those people their lives back.”

  “I’m sorry, that’s not something I can do. I’m one now. I wasn’t a year ago.” The gentleness in Marley’s tone overlapped the concern on Blake’s face, as he watched, silent. “So I know what you’re going through.”

  She had no idea what Luci was going through, unless she’d watched random people die because of her. Luci swallowed the bitter retort. Reason was slinking past the grief, and pointing this out wasn’t going to accomplish anything. “Then no. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  Blake stood and offered Marley a hand up. “Thanks for the information. I’ve got the rest handled.”

  Marley stepped from the room but returned seconds later. She handed Luci a piece of paper with a phone number on it. “If you need someone to talk to, who understands what it’s like to be mortal”—Marley cast a glare at Blake—“call me. Wake me up. I don’t care when it is.”

  “Thank you.” Luci forced a smile onto her lips.

  *

  Blake didn’t like Marley’s implication he was incapable of understanding, but he knew why she’d thought it. He let her see herself to the door, knowing she wouldn’t be offended. His priority right now was Luci. Except, as with so many times in the last twenty-four hours, he wasn’t sure what to say. Luci’s grief combined with Marley’s revelation—the reminder of what he’d discovered almost a century ago.

  When he met Grace, things were too similar to this. Too many pieces clicked into place. He’d figured out before Morrigan got to her that she was a reincarnation of Sayuri, just as Elizabeth had been. His knowledge hadn’t been enough to save her, though. When he’d lost Grace, the spiral he slid into almost destroyed him. He’d forced himself to lock away the notion of ever seeing her in another body again, mostly so he could move on with eternity.

  This couldn’t be her, though. Fate wouldn’t give him back the woman he loved a fourth time. He’d lost his chance a little more each time he tried to protect her. Even only knowing Luci for a day, he couldn’t imagine giving her up, despite the past, or the logic he tried to force on himself.

  So he was either looking at destiny again, or his obsession had reached new, insane levels. Not reassuring, either way.

  Luci met his gaze, and her laugh sounded forced. “Do I have something on my face?”

  Maybe he shouldn’t have stared so long. “No.” He helped her to her feet. “Just grief.” If it was her, how was he supposed to tell her? And what if he told her, and it wasn’t true—or worse, she decided she was done with this insanity and left? That might be for the best. At least she could get out before she lost her life again. “Come on.” He guided her toward the recliner, sat in the chair, and tugged her to him.

  She hesitated for the briefest moment, then slid into his lap and buried her head in his chest. “This doesn’t change anything.” Her words were muffled by his shirt.

  “I know.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her. Silence settled in, and they sat like that as the minutes ticked toward an hour. Her weight, her warmth—it all felt so right. “You wanted to know about my past. About the women I’ve loved before.”

  Her bitter chuckle shook her entire frame, but she didn’t pull away. “I’m responsible for an entire apartment building of people being exploded. They don’t even have a body count yet. That happened because of me, and you think telling me about your ex-girlfriends is the best way to take this conversation?”

  She had a point, but he was running on instinct, and that rarely failed him. “First of all, what happened to your apartment isn’t because of you. You couldn’t have predicted or prevented it. Someone else made that decision. Don’t let the guilt destroy you. And second, they’re not ex-girlfriends; they’re wives.”

  Her entire body froze in his arms. “Excuse me?”

  If he overthought this, he’d talk himself out of it. Very little coming out of his mouth sounded rational, but he knew it was the right way to go. “I was married to each of them.”

  “Oh, of course. That makes it all better. Awesome.” She sat up and shifted her weight.

  He grabbed her wrist before she could leave, loosely enough she could break free if she wanted, but he hoped with enough force to convince her to stay. “I have a past. Everyone does. Pretending it doesn’t exist won’t make it go away.” She might just be proof of that. He didn’t want to hope, but couldn’t help himself. “Besides, you wanted to know who I am and who I’ve loved.”

  She clenched her jaw and started at the floor, but she didn’t stand.

  “You don’t have to listen,” he said. “But you should know, even though I remember them, they’re in my past.” Mostly. Was he stretching the truth too thin? “I’m here now, not there.”

  She finally met his gaze. Red rimmed her eyes, though she hadn’t been crying, and dark circles lingered underneath. “What were their names? It had to hurt, watching them grow old and die. Except you didn’t. Did you?”

  Was she guessing or...? “All three of them died within weeks of marrying me.” He didn’t talk about this with anyone. Even giving her the vaguest information unlocked more of himself than he liked to acknowledged. “Sayuri, Elizabeth, and Grace.”

  “Beth,” she whispered. “That’s what you called her.”

  A jolt ran through him. “Yes.” He summoned his restraint and pushed down the surging reaction. It could be a lucky guess. “Beth died because of me—they all did—so I know how you feel right now.” That was enough sharing. He needed to close the door on those thoughts before they consumed him with guilt and hope.

  “How do you deal with it?” she asked.

  Not very well. “I change the subject a lot.”

  She leaned into him, head on his shoulder and fingers splayed over his heart. “In that case, tell me how Marley ascended. You’ve both said more than once she used to be human.”

  He could do that. It might give him the segue he needed to tell her his theory about who she was. It might not, but it was a starting point and a distraction. “I told you there are all sorts of poems out there about the future of the world and the gods’ place in it. There’s one about my brothers and me, as well.”

  “What does it say?”

  “Eli’s stanza comes last, since he’s the youngest, but it played out first.” He recited the lines with little thought. “As you are, for all of time, to taste neither love nor death. When you find the one worth more than life, she’ll draw her last mortal breath.”

  Luci shivered in his arms. “Creepy.”

  “Not as much as it sounds, apparently. Marley died and then ascended. She’s immortal now. One of the first of the new gods.”

  “You said brothers. How many of you are there?”

  “Three.” And he really didn’t want to talk about the other one. At times it seemed as if saying Loki’s name summoned the asshole, and that was the last thing they needed. What were the odds she’d just gloss over it?

  She traced lines over his chest, touch so light he barely felt it. “When do I get to meet the third?”

  “I’m sure he’ll find a way to introduce himself.”

  Chapter Ten

  Luci knew the entire conversation was an excuse to distract her, and she couldn’t summon a reason to complain. It was a struggle to push aside how many people had died tonight, even just
enough to keep herself sane. Blake’s behavior was sweet and comforting and exactly what she needed. He tensed under her when she asked about his other brother. No reason to sour the mood by going down that path. “What about your bit in all of this?”

  He trailed his fingers through her hair. “It’s a little vague, the way fate tends to be. The world is yours, as you search for your soul. No lover shall bind you to the land. The one you discover, who quiets your might, will bring your journey to an end.” His voice had taken on an almost musical tone, laced with melancholy. Each time he spoke, his chest vibrated against her ear and cheek.

  “It’s pretty.” She wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “I suppose. I’ve always just seen it as being there.”

  “It must be disconcerting, though”—she tried to choose her words carefully, as to not derail the calm—“having your future laid out for you like that, from the moment you’re born. Or created or whatever.”

  He paused his hand’s attentions on her hair, and then resumed again. “‘Born’ is as appropriate as anything. And it’s not as if it’s my entire life—just one portion of it.”

  “One of the more important portions.” Why had she said that? After her past, she’d convinced herself falling in love was a luxury she could live without. Traces of her dream rushed back. Not just the physical sensations it left, but the love Beth had felt when she saw Henry. A pure and complete adoration that still lingered in Luci’s chest.

  “Maybe.” He shifted beneath her, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Since you’re letting me air my thoughts, I meant what I said earlier.”

  Her entire day was more emotion than detail. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “You’re beautiful. Not because I’m trying to trick you or manipulate you, but because you are.”

  Embarrassment heated her face. “Thanks.” An empty pit still lingered. A bottomless gaping hole lined with despair. But having Blake there, regardless of the words exchanged, helped her step around it. She couldn’t figure out why someone she barely knew was so comforting, but despite the mess that had been her day, sitting with him like this felt familiar and right.

  Neither of them spoke. She wasn’t sure what else to say, and he seemed to have run out of confessions. She wanted to spend all night talking to him, but at the same time exhaustion was staking its claim.

  “Hey.” He nudged her gently. “It’s so late it’s early. You need more sleep.”

  “I guess.” She stumbled, as he helped her to her feet and stood next to her.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist again and guided her toward the stairs. She was conscious enough to walk straight. His grip was too tempting to refuse, though. He stopped in front of the guest room he’d set her up in. “Get some rest.”

  She intertwined her fingers with his. “Stay, please?” It was a selfish, childish request she didn’t want to take back. She wasn’t ready to surrender that sense of safety yet.

  He hesitated, and for a moment she was afraid he’d tell her no. Instead, he guided her toward the bed. “All right.”

  Still dressed, she lay on her side, and he took the spot behind her. He drew the blanket over both of them, and then rested a hand on her hip. Even through her clothing, she knew he traced circles over the spot where her birthmark sat. The same one Beth had in her dream.

  The thought vied for her attention, but she was too tired to grasp and decipher it. With his chest pressed to her back, their breathing falling into sync, sleep took her quickly.

  ****

  Grace giggled in delight when Blaine swept her off her feet, one arm under her knees and the other at her back. She encircled his neck and pressed her lips to his. Kissing him still felt new. Exciting. She hoped it always would. He stepped into the hotel room, still holding her, and kicked the door shut behind them.

  He took a few steps before setting her on the ground, back to him. “Ancestors, you’re gorgeous, Grace.” He dropped a row of kisses along her neck. Each new touch sent pleasant shivers running through her, and anticipation pooled in her gut.

  He dragged down the zipper of her wedding dress, and the fabric loosened around her torso. Nervous excitement joined her jumble of emotions. She’d wanted to wait until their wedding night to be with him. She knew it had been tough on him, but he’d respected her wishes. Now that it was finally happening—they were married and she was his—a sharp longing ached between her thighs.

  “We’ll take this slow.” He drew her close and rested a hand on her hip. Her skin hummed from the gentle caresses. The soft, teasing touches. He traced her pelvis with his finger, on top of a birthmark she’d always hated. She knew he wouldn’t mind when he discovered it. There was no doubt in her mind he loved her as much as she did him.

  His breath flowed over her skin, hot and enticing. “I’ve looked for you for ages. I’m not letting you go again.”

  Luci’s eyes flew open, but the dream didn’t leave her. She gasped as it continued to skip forward in her head. That was Blake. Again. And...

  Grace lay in the hotel bed, enjoying the breeze on her bare skin. They’d have to return to real life soon, but the honeymoon had been amazing. Blaine stood next to her, gorgeous and naked. Blond, tall, muscular. All hers. He climbed on the mattress and pressed his lips to hers. He sought out her breast and squeezed lightly.

  Each new sensation in the dream—memory?—flushed Luci’s skin. She struggled to push it away. She saw Blake’s guest room, registered the familiar ceiling, and smelled his scent on the sheets, but it overlapped with something else. Visions that were hers but not. She struggled to move. To pull away from the man behind her, though she didn’t know why.

  A crash shattered the playful mood, as the door exploded from its frame and clattered into the room. “There you are.” A woman stood in the doorway. Her pale blue gaze locked on Grace’s, satisfaction and death burning in her irises. “You did a good job hiding her this time.”

  Morrigan. The name passed through Grace’s mind at the same time Blaine said it.

  “You remember me.” Morrigan’s smile radiated destruction.

  No. The word repeated over and over in Luci’s head. She didn’t want this. It needed to go away, whatever this vivid vision was that felt as much a part of her past as waiting in line for coffee yesterday morning. A whimper rose inside, but she couldn’t force it out.

  There was no way Grace remembered this madwoman. She’d never seen her before. Morrigan raised her hand, thumb and forefinger together, as if to snap. Blaine cleared the short distance between them faster than Grace could blink, and slammed Morrigan into a far wall. He growled. “Never again.” A glow radiated out from him, engulfing both bodies.

  Morrigan looked over Blake’s shoulder, smirked at Grace, and snapped her fingers.

  Agony shredded through Grace, as if she were yanked apart in a million different directions. She tried to scream, but her vocal chords didn’t work.

  “Luci.” Blake’s concern cut through the foul memory. She focused on him leaning over her, concern painting his face.

  Her entire body still screamed in agony, though part of her knew she was fine. She struggled to draw in another breath.

  “Love? Are you with me?” He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

  She sucked in another desperate gulp of air, more grateful than she should be that it was an option. Reality displaced the memory and left confusion in its wake. “I was...” She didn’t know. What was that?

  “It’s okay.” He helped her sit, shifting so he could support her. “You’re here, not somewhere else. It was just a dream.”

  Except it wasn’t. She looked at him and saw the face of a man who had worn four different names. But they were all him. She dropped her hand to her hip. “You knew.” Her voice rasped out past dry lips.

  He furrowed his brow and studied her. “Knew what?”

  That was a good question. If those men were all him, and what she’d dreamed was real, how did she know it a
s though she’d lived it? And why was she so convinced it wasn’t just a waking nightmare? A voice whispered in her head. An insistence she not write this off like she always had in the past. That meant she was those women. She always figured it out too late. Just as Morrigan killed her. But that didn’t make any sense.

  No more sense than the fact she was sitting in a god’s guest bedroom, wondering how much he’d kept from her. She wrenched away from him and stood. “You knew who I was.”

  “No.” Even the single word had a waver to it. He held her gaze. “I didn’t.”

  Except he did, because he knew what she was talking about. Rage and betrayal roared inside, carried on the lingering agony of remembering her own death three times over. “You did. And you lied to me about it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Blake didn’t know what Luci had seen, but for several minutes it hadn’t been him. He’d awoken to her whimpering and shivering, but couldn’t shake her from her glass-eyed gaze. Whatever had been in her head, she knew something now. He could feign innocence and try to draw the details out of her, but he had a pretty good idea what she was talking about. “I didn’t know until tonight. And even then, I wasn’t certain. It’s what Marley came to tell me.”

  Luci stepped back from the bed, fury and confusion warring for dominance of her features. “It’s true, then. I’m the living embodiment of those women you were married to.”

  How much did she know? He wanted to sit and talk it through with her. Find out what she’d seen. That probably needed to wait. “Maybe. Probably. Apparently. I wasn’t sure, even after Marley showed me. I wanted to find out before I said anything to you. You’re already dealing with enough discovery.”