When we reached the house, Madden’s pace slowed. She fidgeted with the sleeve of her shirt. “Here we go,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince herself, but whatever she felt, she still sounded exactly like Madden always did—in control.
I tried to mimic her attitude, though inside I was starting to panic.
I walked up the half dozen steps to the porch two at a time, noting the wheelchair lift along the railing. Before we had a chance to ring the bell, a woman, old enough to be my grandmother, opened the door. I recognized her from the picture Madden had shown me earlier that morning. She’d been Dr. Og’s personal caretaker for the past few years, though she didn’t look like any sort of nurse I’d ever seen. She wore a purple tunic, and a long, white braid hung over her shoulder. Purple flowers had been threaded in and out of the overlapping sections of hair—they were the same ones we’d passed on the walk up. She was a lot older than the photo I’d seen, but she still had the same wide set eyes and square face.
She looked back and forth between us, her expression wary. Most people would have been surprised by an Ash and a Purple standing together, but I could tell she was seeing more than just our colors. “Hello, Madden,” she said. She turned to me, tilting her head to one side. “And you must be Dax. It’s nice to see you again.”
See me again? I sucked in my breath. She knew who I was. What were you supposed to say to the person who took away your standing in the world? “Then you know who I am?” I asked, my words coming out strangled. “And why we’re here?”
K.C.’s entire body seemed to wilt a little. She reached one arm out to rest against the doorframe, steadying herself. “I wondered if you would learn what happened, if you’d ever seek me out.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Madden asked. Gone was the composed mask. I could tell she was fighting not to yell. “All those times I’d see you accompany Dr. Og to the ministry meetings, K.C., you never once thought to tell me the truth?”
“I couldn’t. I had to let it unfold naturally,” she replied.
My heart was racing and my chest felt too tight, like I had to strain to keep breathing. This woman had actually switched our destinies. “How could you do something like that?” I asked, reeling. “You ruined my life. The lives of my family. Why?”
K.C. struggled to find the right words. “It couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t my decision.” She looked down, her face twisted in misery. “How did you figure it out?”
“You made a mistake,” Madden replied. “You left a time stamp for my birth on my mother’s file. It led me to Dax. Once we realized there were discrepancies with our destinies, we knew if we wanted answers we had to track down the Specialist who oversaw both of the extractions. Her name was Karina Palcove. Only it looked like she’d disappeared. I couldn’t find anything on her. It would have been a dead end, except I recognized the name. Turns out it’s the same as the author of a book I’ve been reading.”
Madden reached into her bag and pulled out Laira’s destiny book. She flipped to the back, holding the book open to the ‘About the Author’ page just like she’d done when she’d shown me earlier that day.
“I realized the author looked just like the woman who worked as Og’s caretaker,” Madden continued. “That is to say, you.”
The woman, K.C. Clifton, aka Karina Palcove, took the book from Madden, turning it over in her hands in shock. Her voice was hushed, almost reverent. “I didn’t think there were any printed copies left. I can’t believe you found this.” She stepped back from the door and then looked at us still standing on the porch. “Please,” she said, “let’s talk about this inside.”
Disbelief, shock and anger surged through me. This was it, everything was about to come out in the open. A part of me wanted to scream and shake the woman in front of me, another wanted to fling my arms around her, embrace her for telling the truth. Instead, I kept my cool and walked into the home of Dr. Jebidiah Og. The minister whose position that Madden—scratch that, I, Dax Harris—was slated to replace.
I marched after K.C., my hands clenched into fists at my side. Keep it together, Madden, I told myself, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. My life was going to be officially destroyed over the next few minutes. But I would still handle it with dignity. I might have a Blank destiny. It didn’t mean I had to act like it.
K.C. led us around the large staircase in the front of the house, toward a plush, rich purple-carpeted hallway. The sides of the carpet were trimmed with violet fleur-de-lis. The walls were painted to match. We passed several heavy-looking wooden doors—all closed—until K.C. paused in front of one. She pressed a button and it slid open.
I walked inside to find myself in an old-fashioned library. Hardbound books lined the shelves surrounding the room. An unlit fireplace took up an entire wall and several overstuffed chairs were scattered throughout. A vase of flowers sat on the table between the two sofas in the room’s center. The entire room looked like something from a different century.
“Please, have a seat,” K.C. said, motioning toward the sofas.
Dax rushed toward the closest one as if she couldn’t wait to hear what K.C. would say. Who could blame her? She was about to get the most ultra life there was—mine. I followed more slowly, perching next to her on the edge of the leather cushion. I looked at K.C. as she sunk down across from us. Suddenly all I wanted was to get this over with.
There was no reason to mince words. She obviously knew why we were there. “You switched our destinies.”
She nodded. “Yes, I did.”
She said it so calmly, like she was talking about giving me the wrong type of tea, not about messing with my whole life. “But why?” I said. “Why would you do something like that?”
She raised her hands in a helpless shrug. “I didn’t have a choice,” she said.
“Of course you had a choice. There’s always a choice,” I told her, struggling to remain calm. I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t.
Dax spoke instead. “I don’t understand,” she said. “My brother is a Destiny Specialist. He told me about the process. You wouldn’t have been able to switch it without someone knowing.”
She paused. “I had help.”
“Who would help you with something like this?” I started, and then stopped, groping to find the words. “It could ruin our whole system, cause another Event. No one would risk that.”
“Unless there was a reason for it,” a deep, creaky voice replied.
I felt my jaw drop open as Dr. Og rolled into the library. He was dressed formally, in a rich, purple suit, his white hair neatly combed to one side. Even in his wheelchair, he maintained a commanding presence. He stopped beside K.C., reaching out to rest his age-spotted hand on top of hers. “I helped Karina cover it up.”
“You?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper. “Why?”
“Because I believe in our system, Madden. I was trying to protect it.”
I dug my fingers into the sofa cushions. “That doesn’t make sense. If you believed, you never would have done something like that.”
“Things are not always as they seem,” he said.
He nodded at K.C., who took a deep breath before speaking.
“What you need to understand is that I had to do it,” she said and paused, looking from me to Dax and back again. “It was my destiny to switch your destinies.”
I felt chills go through my body.
“My destiny was one of the first ones ever extracted,” she continued. “Og performed it actually. He was just fifteen at the time. A genius even then. He thought it best to keep it a secret, that it could cause trouble for me down the line, so he told everyone my destiny was to be a Specialist. When he told me the truth, I knew there wasn’t a choice. I had to do what I was fated for, no matter the consequences.”
My body felt heavy. K.C. had acted according to her destiny, and no matter how much I wished I could melt into the sofa, I had to face facts. “So that’s it then
.” I turned to Dax. “You’re the future minister. And I’m a Blank.”
All I wanted at the moment was to go home, to hide in my bedroom behind a closed door. No witnesses to see the tears that were threatening to fall. I blinked rapidly, clearing my eyes.
Emotions warred in Dax’s face as she watched me. This was the biggest moment of her life, but there was sympathy in her expression as well. Her pity made it that much worse, and I turned away.
“Not so fast,” Dr. Og wheeled closer. His eyes were bright despite his years, and they bore into mine with a fierce intensity. “There’s a reason Blanks have the reputation they do. They’re important. You’re important.”
I looked at him with disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
He reached out and took my hand, pressing it between his own. “You have a destiny, Madden. All Blanks do. We just had to hide it—until now.”
I heard Dax gasp beside me, and I felt my skin prickle. “What is it?”
The crease in his forehead deepened, and his voice got low. “To take down the destiny system.”
ASH is much stronger because of the friends and family members who supported us along the way. Many, many thanks—your feedback and encouragement means a lot. You are, in a word, AMAZING!
Jason Pinter, thanks for believing in this project and for being all-around fantastic. ASH wouldn’t be what it is without you and your team. Craig Cohen, thank you for your guidance and expertise in helping us navigate the publishing process. Jen Malone, your feedback was invaluable. This book would have ended in a very different way without your suggestions. And a shout out to Sammy Yuen for designing such a striking cover.
To Micol Ostow and the Mediabistro gang, some might say walking into that classroom was destiny—and the foundation for a very important new currency.
To our coworkers at Fox 5 News and thelab NYC, we heart you. This kind of project gobbles up a lot of time, and you helped us manage the juggling act.
Even more hearts go out to our friends. Both of us have been serious hermits and we’ve missed some important stuff—birthdays, anniversaries, nights out, girl gabbing marathons and more. But part of what makes you incredible is that you are all still right there, waiting for us on the other end.
A special thank you to Millie Sensat for thinking through flowers and typography, Ted Schantz for the photo shoot, Shana Grossman-Heller for her photo expertise, and Anna Schumacher for helping us sum it all up.
Lauren Scobell, you are an amazing cheerleader. Thank you for reading and rereading, talking through every last detail with us, and for being our go to on all things swoonworthy.
David Hohusen you are better than ultra. We don’t know where we’d be without you. You are the master of tricky plot points and helping us get our thoughts in order. And Darci thinks you are some kind of dreamy husband, best friend, and confidante. Every single thing in her world is just a little better for sharing it with you.
To the rest of Darci’s family, thank you. To Joy Manley, who taught Darci to love books and words and writing in general, and to Norm Manley, who taught her to laugh at the oddest of moments, and is still her favorite storyteller. To Katie Manley, for being a best friend along the way and a critical reader in the final hour. And to Darci’s grandparents, Ed and Nancy Stewart, who always take the time to cheer her on. You are all so important and wonderful and supportive. She’s lucky to call you all family… and share your kindle plan.
And to Shani’s family—all the cousins, aunts, uncles, and Christina Park, who Shani sometimes forgets isn’t actually her sister—thank you for always being there. To Marilyn, Jordan and Andrea Petroff, your love and unwavering support is tireless. She is lucky to have you. To her grandparents and Robert Petroff, who taught her to love books and follow her dreams, while you are no longer here in body, your memories live on. And to Liam and Alice Petroff, who already have Aunt Shani wrapped around their little fingers, she can’t wait to see the wonderful things destiny has in store for you. You all mean the world to her.
Shani Petroff is the author of the Bedeviled series, which includes Daddy’s Little Angel, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Dress, Careful What You Wish For, and Love Struck. She also writes for television news programs and several other venues. You can reach her at ShaniPetroff.com or on twitter: @shanipetroff.
Darci Manley works as a creative director, writing and designing for an NYC advertising agency. She is also the author of A Defender’s Tale, a personalized, interactive Choose Your Own Adventure tale for the iPad. You can reach her at DarciManley.com or on twitter: @darcimanley.
Petroff and Manley live in New York City. They were destined to write a book series together.
The “Destined” series will continue
ULTRAVIOLET
Coming Soon
The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in an entirely fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Shani Petroff and Darci Manley
Cover design by Sammy Yuen
Ebook designed and formatted by:
www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com
ISBN 978-1-940610-32-0
eISBN 978-1-940610-42-9
First hardcover edition March 2015 by Polis Books, LLC
60 West 23rd Street
New York, NY 10010
Table of Contents
Title Page
Books by Shani Petroff
Dedication
Amendments
Chapter 1: DAX
Chapter 2: MADDEN
Chapter 3: DAX
Chapter 4: MADDEN
Chapter 5: DAX
Chapter 6: MADDEN
Chapter 7: DAX
Chapter 8: MADDEN
Chapter 9: DAX
Chapter 10: MADDEN
Chapter 11: DAX
Chapter 12: MADDEN
Chapter 13: DAX
Chapter 14: MADDEN
Chapter 15: DAX
Chapter 16: MADDEN
Chapter 17: DAX
Chapter 18: MADDEN
Chapter 19: DAX
Chapter 20: MADDEN
Chapter 21: DAX
Chapter 22: MADDEN
Chapter 23: DAX
Chapter 24: MADDEN
Chapter 25: DAX
Chapter 26: MADDEN
Chapter 27: DAX
Chapter 28: MADDEN
Chapter 29: DAX
Chapter 30: MADDEN
Chapter 31: DAX
Chapter 32: MADDEN
Chapter 33: DAX
Chapter 34: MADDEN
Chapter 35: DAX
Chapter 36: MADDEN
Chapter 37: DAX
Chapter 38: MADDEN
Chapter 39: DAX
Chapter 40: MADDEN
Chapter 41: DAX
Chapter 42: MADDEN
Chapter 43: DAX
Chapter 44: MADDEN
Chapter 45: DAX
Chapter 46: MADDEN
Acknowledgments
About The Authors
Ultraviolet
Copyright Notice
Ash Page 31
