Leave it to Fate
Keri Armstrong
Highland Publishing, LLC
Leave it to Fate
Copyright 2020 Keri Armstrong
Highland Publishing, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For permission requests, email: [email protected]
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Leave it to Fate/ Keri Armstrong. – 1st ed.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Afterward
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
S weat trickled down my cheek and pooled into the corner of my mouth. I tipped it with my tongue. The salty drop added a nice touch to the tequila and lime already on my lips.
Inhaling deeply, I stretched across my lawn chair, offering my pale skin as sacrifice to the sun gods. The sweet-smelling grass tickled my dangling fingertips, and the summer vibe was so deep, that a shadow drifting over my face threw off my groove. Annoyed, I opened my eyes to find the source of killjoy, and immediately regretted it.
There were several things wrong with the gum-chewing, bubble-popping faerie floating over my head.
One: He was a six-foot tall, bubblegum-chewing faerie, floating over me.
Two: He was wearing a purple satin cape covered in gold stars, tied at the neck with a shiny silver cord.
Three: He was completely naked under that cape.
And four: Oh, my God! I’d never seen him sprouting one of those before!
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Before I got to nine and a half, I peeked at his huge erection then slammed my lids shut to the count of thirty.
Deciding thirty seconds might not be enough to cure my psychosis—I was hallucinating my imaginary childhood friend in the middle of my twenty-eighth birthday bash, after all—I upped the ante to a full sixty seconds.
If that didn’t help, I would get out of the sun and put down the tequila I’d been sipping (guzzling) for the past half hour of the party.
Pity party of one, that is. And by birthday bash, I meant bashing myself for being dumped and spending my birthday alone, half-baked in a bikini in my back yard. Might need to add an extra helping of self-recrimination for seeing a tall, naked, and … I peeked again … (darn it, still there!) unaccountably aroused male fae.
“C’mon lovely, I know you can see me,” he said, landing next to my chair. “Just tell me where the girl is, then you and I can have a little one-on-one fun before I collect her.”
I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut even harder.
That voice.
My grown-up (and apparently perverted) brain might have changed his outward appearance in the eighteen years since I last saw—imagined—him, but my auditory hallucination of his voice was the same: Totally still Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Even at a young age, that accent got to me. I opened my eyelids but tried to ignore him. He wasn’t allowing it. Three deep breaths later, I still stared at his dazzling display of teeth.
How had my prepubescent brain ever cooked up such a smile? I remember thinking he was pretty when I was a child, and I would always get caught up in his mischievous grin, but was he ever so … so … overwhelmingly male?
He was certainly never so naked.
“Aw, sorry love, too much for you? Shall I tone it down a bit?” He swept the cloak from his shoulders and fastened it around his waist. The switch created a gold-starred tent that pointed to the tawny, chiseled six pack and narrow waist above it. And without the purple satin, the broad shoulders and defined arms were bare to the sun. They glimmered nearly as much as his neon-blue eyes and perfect smile. The white-blond hair that fell to his waist also glistened, just as it always had.
As a child, I’d envied that hair. Probably because I hated being teased about my curly carrot top. But he’d claimed to love my curls. Amazing how the young brain tried to compensate in such a sad orphan. I’d endowed him with all I didn’t have—beauty, confidence, and fun.
Tamping down the ironic smile that threatened the edges of my lips, I reminded myself how all those adventures with my imaginary friend had ended in heartache. At the age of ten, I’d been labeled psychotic and kicked out of my favorite foster family. Blaming “Puck”, as I had called him (much to his amusement), I banished him from ever visiting me again.
He’d promised not to return unless I urgently needed him. Or unless he ever really needed me.
I’m an adult now, and I don’t need him. And he wasn’t real, so he couldn’t need me, I silently argued.
“Why are you here?” I asked aloud.
Great job giving into delusions, Meghan.
“Pick-up job to do.” He flexed a broad shoulder and ran his gaze over my bikini clad body. “Didn’t expect to find such a delicious distraction on the way.”
My brain emptied as his tongue caressed his upper lip. His lips continued moving and it was a few seconds before the rest of his words took root in my head.
“Clothes?” I asked, stupidly.
“Yes, dear. That’s what I asked for. Do you have some I might borrow? Had to leave rather unexpectedly from a game of strip poker. Jealous mate and all, you see.”
When my brows rose, he quickly said, “Not my mate! Hers.”
As if that made it better.
“Anyway, kitten, some trousers would be nice. Can’t have the child see me in this state. She’s still a bit young for all this.”
He waved a hand over his torso and my gaze tracked every inch.
Sun poisoning! My mind screamed the words at me, and I latched onto them, nodding. Yes. I was drunk and probably had heat stroke.
Relief spread a smile across my face and I proudly refused his offered hand as I attempted to stand.
“Excellent!” he said. “After you retrieve the clothing, please tell me where I might find Meghan Lovejoy. I’ve been tasked with delivering her to her mother.”
Chapter Two
M y ass hit the grass. A few blades worked their way into my skimpy bikini bottom, creating a little tickle that reminded me it had been a while since anyone had tickled there. Shaking it off, I rose and stalked toward my house, ignoring the imaginary being that followed. If I concentrated enough, I might just be able to make him disappear. Right before I checked myself into the hospital.
My palm smacked the old, wood-framed screen door as I tried to push my way into my little house. It was a testament to how drunk … erm, discombobulated I was that I forgot I needed to pull, not push. A masculine snicker raised my ire.
“You’re sure this is your house, love?”
I jerked the screen door open and quickly passed throug
h to shut it behind me, flipping the lock. Not sure it would work on a figment of my imagination but hoping my beleaguered brain would accept the intent and keep him outside.
He scoffed and gave me a wry smile. “I’ll just wait here then, shall I?”
I closed the second door for good measure and slammed the deadbolt into place. I grinned through the window at the petulant expression that had replaced his smirk.
“You do realize that I could just blow this door down, don’t you?” He flipped his long hair over his shoulder. “But I prefer to not make a scene.”
I blinked a few times, wondering when he would disappear.
“Don’t just stand there, woman! Bring me some clothes,” he yelled.
I jumped back slightly when his expression changed again to one of cunning and his long fingers began undoing the cape at his waist.
“Unless you want to see more?” He stroked the purple satin and grinned.
My bare feet squeaked against the linoleum floor as I ran to the small kitchen island and huddled behind it, flattening my palms over my ears as he continued to bang on the door.
“No, no, no,” I moaned. I really shouldn’t have had so much to drink. “I can’t hear you. I can’t see you. Go away!”
My heart went into overdrive when sharp clicking noises came from the hall that led to my bedroom. I crawled around the side of the island to peek down the hallway. Being environmentally conscious, as well as dirt poor, I always made sure to turn the lights off whenever I left a room. Unfortunately, it made that part of my little house dim from lack of windows. A bit of sun streamed in from the living room, causing the furniture to cast long, dark shadows into the hall.
Shadows that seemed to move and lengthen.
Shadows that … sniffed?
I was losing my mind. There was no other explanation. I squeezed my eyes shut as the snuffling, shifting shadows swayed across the hallway.
A long, howling, “No” broke free from my throat and I gasped, choking back tears. “Go away!” I screamed again at the illusions tormenting me.
Blessed silence.
Daring a glance, I opened my eyes again. The shadows still swayed like wheat in a breeze, but the sniffing noise had stopped. Unfortunately, the voice from behind me hadn’t.
“Not going anywhere, love, ’til I get some pants and directions.”
I tossed my head back to connect it with the wall. I banged it once more, and then a third time when the clicking sound started again.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone? Haven’t you already ruined my life enough?”
A beat of silence, then, “I’ve only been here a few minutes. And while it’s true I could ruin a life in less than that, all I’ve asked of you are trousers and directions to Meghan Lovejoy. Well, and maybe a little fun time, if you’re up for it, before I have to deliver the girl to her mother. Or after, I can come back.”
My brain couldn’t formulate a response, between trying to process the nonsense at the door and the clicking sound which now appeared to be circling the other side of the kitchen island.
“What the…?” was all I could manage before fury gripped me, overtaking the fear. My tongue loosened with rage.
“Why are you doing this to me? What sick game is this? I don’t have a mother, I’ve never had a mother, and YOU ARE NOT REAL! Now go away and leave me alone!”
Another moment of silence before his voice came back sounding shocked. “Wait. You’re Meghan?”
I didn’t respond, still hoping he would go away.
But he didn’t go away. He was merely replaced by another, more startling apparition. The sniffing and clicking were now close enough to raise the hair on my neck, and I slowly turned my head.
A massive hound, shaggy and dark green, stalked from behind the island, its glowing red eyes trained on my face.
“Meghan, love, I need to send you to your mother, so please get over this fit you’re having and come out,” Puck called.
The dog continued to stare, strings of drool hanging from the six-inch fangs visible in its gaping jaw.
A whimper worked through my throat and my lips trembled. “Please, just take your dog and go.”
“What dog?”
As if in answer, the beast gave a huge bark, and its weirdly braided tail rose over its back like a scorpion ready to attack.
Not exactly a friendly tail wag. My muscles froze as I stared into the dog’s eyes, caught surely as a deer before an oncoming semi.
Only the sound of my back doors being blown off their hinges caused the dog and me to break eye contact.
“Don’t look at it,” Puck yelled as I whimpered. He strode across the kitchen, hand outstretched, as the dog growled and opened its mouth. Before it could bark again, a gust of wind shot forth from Puck and sent the hound flying across the room. It crashed into the cabinet under the sink and wood splinters exploded. But the animal recovered quickly and lunged for us just as Puck grabbed my arm and sprinted out my ruined back door.
We broke into a mad dash across the lawn, the hound still at our heels. I made the mistake of looking back to see how close it was, and it barked again. The sound did something to me. As if I’d been shot with a tranquilizer, I slowed to a stop and could barely breathe. I was only aware of two things: Puck tugging my arm and the sudden clamp of powerful jaws around my leg.
The pain was real; too sharp to be imaginary. While I didn’t know what had actually bitten me – maybe a neighbor’s dog, or some other animal – the pain brought me to my knees. I still saw the hound’s jaws on my leg, and the jaw was still massive and surrounded by long strands of gnarled, green fur, but I refused to give into the delusion. Whatever really had me, I had to fight it off.
But Puck wasn’t done with me yet. He sent another blast of wind at the dog, but it only managed to flip me onto my back, taking the beast with me.
Furious, I lashed out with my fist. I’d read somewhere that if a shark gets you in its jaws, you should punch it in the eyes. I hoped it would work with whatever had me. However, rather than my fist making contact, a bolt of white light shot from my fingertips and sent the hound flying.
“Good on you, mate,” was the last thing I heard before darkness overtook me.
Chapter Three
I moaned as my face peeled away from warm, damp leather. Well, more like vinyl. It took a moment to recognize the backseat of my car.
I bolted upright. What the hell? The car was moving, and in the driver’s seat was my old nemesis. He’d somehow found clothing and was currently about to ram an ancient blue Ford truck in front of us.
“Slow down,” I yelled. Then, “Look out!” as he swerved into the other lane, nearly clipping the truck, and putting us into the path of a parked car. A parked car that moved forward several feet as my front bumper made contact.
I tumbled to the floor when Puck slammed on the brakes. My leg connected with the back of the passenger seat, and fiery pain shot through my calf. Crying out, I reached toward my leg and saw the bite wound was bandaged. In disbelief, I also noticed it was dark outside. Huffing, I pulled myself up to look between the front seats at the dashboard. The glowing, green numerals by the radio said it was nine o’clock.
“What is happening?” I moaned. How could any of it be real? My muddled brain shot questions one after the other that flew out my mouth. “Why is it dark? Where did you get the clothes? And why are you driving my car?”
“I would so love to answer all your questions, but I’m currently driving for the first time. Must say, not a fan of the experience.”
First time?
I quickly climbed between the seats toward the front, not caring that my butt was by his face as I gingerly tried to maneuver my wounded leg.
“Loving the view,” he said, “but please settle quickly. We need to get moving again.”
“WE are not going anywhere,” I said as I reached to open the passenger side door. You are getting out and I’m going to drive home. Or to the nearest hospital
.”
“Need I remind you that there is a massive hound who has already had a taste of your leg and will be coming back for more?”
My fingers paused on the door handle. Hating myself for giving into the nonsense, I still had to ask, “What was that thing?”
“Cu Sith.” He said it as if it were obvious.
“And that is …?”
“The awful mutt that made a real mess in Scotland.”
“Still no clue here.”
He rolled his eyes. “If you see the Cu Sith and it barks three times, you’ll die of a fear-induced heart attack. But you probably needn’t worry too much. I believe it’s here for me.”
“What makes you say that? I mean …” I gestured toward my leg.
He frowned at the bandage, then lightened. “Probably caught my scent on you. Sorry about that.”
He almost did seem sorry, which surprised me. Still, “And why was it coming for you?”
“Probably sent by the git whose wife I’d just left.” He laughed. “Surprised he’d keep such a beast. Didn’t notice any dog hairs in the bedsheets, though.”
Okaaayyyy. As I pondered this, he turned serious.
“How long has it been since we last met?
“Not long enough.”
His expression turned sulky. Guess I hit a nerve. Yay, me. At least one good thing happened on my birthday.
“Why are you so unhappy to see me? Didn’t we always have fun before?”
“No.”
“Lie.”
Maybe it was a lie, but it was also the truth. What had started as fun for me always finished in heartbreak.
“It is true. Your little games always ended with me in trouble with whatever family had taken me in. Thanks to this” – I waved my hand between us – “insanity, I’ve never had a real family.” My voice croaked, and I hated the weakness.
“You do have a real family, Meghan. That’s why I’m here. Why I’ve always been here for you.”
Leave it to Fate Page 1
