Destiny Calls

by Lydia Michaels

  Gracie came back into the room, and Dane walked in behind her and then right out the front door. It looked as though they had just argued, but Destiny hadn’t heard any shouting.

  “Come on, Cybil. It’s time for your lesson,” Gracie announced, appearing slightly agitated. Destiny was surprised when the little girl responded to Gracie’s words spoken behind her back. The girl seemed to hear just fine. Was she mute?

  Cain then released Cybil’s hand and slid his hand around her own. The relief that flooded Destiny at the conclusion of their embrace was completely juvenile. “We’ll be back in time for supper,” he said as he reached for her coat. She hadn’t noticed it hanging from a peg on the wall. She looked silly in her dress coat and sweats, but she couldn’t find her other coat. It was likely somewhere in her house with her missing cell phone. He held it open for her, and she stared dumbly at him for a second. Holy crap, a man who actually has manners. She slid her arms through the sleeves and almost hyperventilated when he bent to do up her buttons.

  His fingers accidentally brushed along her breast, and her stomach did a cartwheel. When he again took her hand in his, it made her so excited she classified herself as a woman with the maturity of a fifth grader once and for all. Maybe later she’d slip him a note that said, Do you want to meet by the buggies? Circle yes or no.

  The farm was beautiful. Cain was an awesome tour guide. He was funny and laughed at her stupid questions about the animals. He only teased her mildly when she called a hen a rooster. When he noticed she was getting cold, he led her back to the house.

  Toward the end of their journey, Cain pointed. “See that house there? That’s my brother’s home. He recently built it for his mate, Anna.”

  “Mate?”

  “Wife,” he corrected. “And that one to the far left with the smaller porch, that is my grandparents’ home. My Uncle Fisher also lives there.”

  “Do men usually live with their parents past adulthood?” She had lived with her parents and probably still would if they hadn’t returned to Portugal.

  “Only until they are mat—married. Females as well. It’s just easier that way.” They walked for a while longer and then headed back in the direction they had started from. Destiny recognized various markings along the way.

  Destiny figured they hadn’t even seen a third of the farm. Most of the houses looked the same and twice she had mistaken the wrong house for the one they had come from. Her favorite part of the tour was seeing the horses. She made Cain promise to take her for a buggy ride while she and Vito were visiting, and he agreed, not quite understanding the novelty of such a thing.

  When they returned to the house, Gracie was carrying a humongous bowl of steaming mashed potatoes to the table. Vito again was eyeing the poor girl as if she were a goddess. Some men could be manipulated with sex, but with Vito all it took was a woman who knew her way around a kitchen.

  Chapter 13

  Cain sat in Council Hall waiting for the elders to call quiet and announce that the session had begun. He would be called to the bench and needed to get his head on matters that affected The Order. Yet for some reason his thoughts refused to focus on more important matters and kept returning to the cute little Portuguese woman curled up in his bed.

  He no longer found her obsession with technology as annoying as he first had. He had somehow begun to find it amusing. After dinner when he announced he had a meeting, she had told him not to worry about her, that she would be perfectly fine and had plenty of things to occupy herself with. When she pulled out a flat computer that looked like a notepad, she pursed her lips. Although her devices worked without the assistance of electric lines, the farm was apparently too far from a tower, whatever that meant.

  She then reached in her bag of tricks and pulled out a smaller flat thing and said she would read. He waited for her to produce a book, but she didn’t. However, the screen of her device turned on and looked as if it were actual paper with printed words. She had toed off her knit boots and curled her legs beneath that shapely bottom of hers and began to read.

  Cain had watched her for a few moments, and she seemed to have forgotten he was even there. It appeared when Destiny Santos, investigative reporter, was not on the field, she was actually quite quiet. It was as if she were a different person entirely. Cain liked this other side of her, but also was starting to enjoy her more insistent qualities as well.

  Bishop King strolled down the center aisle, his stature and power evident in each confident step. He took his seat at the center of the bench among the other eight elders on the council and silenced the room full of males with one tap of his gavel. Cain’s gaze caught on his brother Adam’s for a moment. The stern set of Adam’s spine only amplified the effort he put forth not to spare his twin a glance.

  Once the date was given and the clerk for the night announced, matters were underway. After several announcements of common practices and upcoming events, the meeting moved on to more serious matters.

  “I call Brother Cain Hartzler forth to discuss his recent findings in the woods of Jim Thorpe,” Eleazar said.

  Cain stepped out of the rows of pews and moved up the bench. Eleazar nodded at him in greeting, no impression of his dislike or the relation he now held to the Hartzlers in the bishop’s manner. He instructed him to inform the others of the events in the woods. Cain gave a detailed report of his sighting of Isaiah. That, paired with the bishop’s report of sighting the immortal earlier that winter was enough to prove Isaiah still existed.

  The strain this put on his grandfather, Ezekiel, was understandable and he hoped that when they did capture Isaiah, matters were handled swiftly. It was not right for one to have to plan his bredder’s demise. Cain couldn’t imagine doing so if it were Adam out there in those woods.

  “It is understood that you’re rescinding your offer to hunt out Brother Isaiah. Is that correct, Brother Cain?” Eleazar asked.

  Cain looked at his brother. Their gazes clashed, and he tried his best not to let Adam’s cold, detached gaze cut him too deep. He couldn’t accept that he had done something so reprehensible that their friendship was no more. “That’s correct. For my own personal reasons which I won’t share, I must step down and ask that another male go in my stead.” Adam didn’t nod in approval or show any sign of agreement with his statement. He only showed complete indifference, and it hurt.

  “And what of the others in the woods? Have there been more?”

  “There have,” Cain announced. “It seems that while Isaiah has searched for his mate, he has transitioned many innocents. They are, from what I’ve seen, all female. There is something ferricked about them, however. Deranged. I spoke with one this past fall, and she informed me that Isaiah was her mate. Another female claimed the same just last month. I would guess they all believe themselves to belong to him.”

  “How many do you assume there are?” asked Elder Abraham Gerig.

  “They claim to be upward of one hundred females.” Male voices rumbled with concerns and doubts. “They are not as strong as Isaiah, but they’re fast and they’re reckless.”

  “You have fought these females?” Elder Christian Schrock asked, appalled.

  “They may be of the fairer gender, but I assure you there is nothing feminine about them. They speak as if their throats have been abused beyond recovery. Their eyes now show white and shine with crimson liquid I assume is the result of ingesting too much mortal blood. They’re the devil’s children and have taken a hand in the recent murders as much as Isaiah. While he’s beyond feeish and continues to hopelessly hunt for his mate, the others are quite territorial and do not want English women anywhere around their sire. I’ve seen at least a dozen of these others, destroyed four, but I’ve never seen them in the company of each other. I imagine they do not play well together.”

  “You say you have destroyed four of them?” Abraham asked.

  “Indeed. They’re a threat to the English community as well as a threat to us. There’s a holocaust taking pl
ace on those mountains, and it needs to be stopped. Isaiah holds the role of alpha and should be the primary target, but I warn you, he’s old, powerful, sustained by human blood, and holds the strength of ten or twenty males. A group must go for him, and they must go with a plan.”

  “How old is Isaiah now?” Christian wondered aloud.

  Cain’s grandfather answered as if in a daze. “My bredder will be three hundred this March.” The elders bowed their heads for a moment in respect to the elder and what this must be costing him. There was no shame in being Isaiah’s brother. He had been a good male. Unfortunately he had never found his mate and therefore lost his mind many years ago. The likelihood of his mate, if mortal, even being alive today was doubtful, and once a mate was lost, the law of nature showed there was never to be another. Isaiah’s fate was inevitable.

  “I call that we form a band of brothers prepared to hunt our lost elder and, if at all possible, return him here,” Elder Thaddeus Christner, Cain’s grandfather on his mother’s side, announced.

  “I object. There is no call for endangering our females and children by bringing this monster into our home,” a tall male called from the back.

  Thaddeus nodded in understanding of the male’s concerns, yet countered them with his words. “It is a sad day when one of our own is lost. It has been eighty years since we all bid Brother Isaiah farewell and Godspeed. Many of you weren’t even born yet. For those of us who were alive, we do not know this monster, but remember a gentle Christian male who was good and kind.

  “Isaiah was a man who doted on the children and went out of his way for others. He never allowed his friends to face hardships alone and often went to great measures in order to find solutions for issues that had no effect on him whatsoever. He was one of the nine original elders that formed this order and as such is deserving of a dignified death. I understand his actions are beyond forgiveness. Innocent lives have been lost.

  “Let us not forget these others, the devil’s children as Cain calls them, were all meant for other fates as well. Isaiah was called to follow God’s plan, and now he shall only find redemption at the hand of God Himself. We are more than men, but we are not gods.

  “Let us not cast stones as if we are without sin. And let us not forget the fact that one of our own, Council Elder Ezekiel Hartzler suffers most for the sins of his bredder. While Isaiah is past the point of conceiving guilt, his brother is not. He pays the price for crimes that are not his own and for such reasons, Elder Ezekiel deserves to see his brother brought to an end peacefully.

  “For there is no redemption for this male, but let there be peace for those who loved him. Let us not allow ourselves to become monsters simply to save the world from one.”

  Cain observed his grandfather carefully as his other grandfather spoke. Ezekiel kept his eyes downcast and his face devoid of emotion.

  Bishop King spoke. “I agree with Council Elder Thaddeus. If there are enough males present to safely incapacitate Isaiah and return him to the farm where he can be locked in seclusion, that’s what shall be done. However, if the dangers are too great and he’s in fact too strong, then he’s to be destroyed on the shadow of which he stands. Do not forget, eighty years ago a band of thirteen males went to find Isaiah, and even then he was too powerful. Do not expect him to recognize you as anything other than a male trespassing on his territory. If he would attempt to slaughter his own brother eight decades ago, he will have no hesitation in ending any other male.”

  The bishop then stood. “Who is brave enough to take this burden upon their shoulders and put an end to this evil?”

  * * * *

  Ezekiel watched as a male in the back stood. “I shall go.” Then another male and another. Soon enough there were over twenty large, imposing males vowing to bring his brother home. He was grateful for the respect being given, yet pained that in the end there would be no saving his brother.

  His mind went back to a time long ago in a different place. It was Europe. The plague had unleashed an unstoppable havoc on males and females, mortals and immortals alike. They were merely boys on the brink of becoming men. He could still see Isaiah clear as day in his mind, his long dark hair only dusting his shoulders at that point and his silver eyes shining bright as he spoke in haste.

  “I have heard of a new world, Zeke. It is fruitful and healthy. No plague has touched this place, and we must go there.”

  “Pére will never allow it. He believes we are to stay here.”

  “Then we shall die here,” Isaiah had hissed vehemently. “Look around you, Zeke. There is nothing left but death. I am tired of starvation, tired of fearing I will ingest some putrid form of disease each time I feed. We must leave this place and start anew. I believe it is our destiny to do so.”

  “And what of Maman? She will not leave Pére. Her heart will break to see her only two sons go.”

  He had pursed his lips and sighed regretfully. “Her fate is here, frére. Ours is there, in the new world. I see it.”

  “You have had another premonition?”

  “Qui. There will be a great ship, and we shall voyage for many nights. There will be death and sadness upon the decks of this vessel, but you and I shall live. Vashti and Caleb are going to be on the ship.”

  The mention of Vashti had irritated him. He favored the young woman, but she favored another. Traveling over an ocean beside the happy couple was not appealing. “And why should that tempt me, Isaiah? I have no interest in watching their affair.”

  Sadness flickered in his silver eyes. “Do not judge them harshly, frére, for they will suffer much hardship on this expedition. When they arrive, they will no longer be three, but two.”

  Ezekiel’s jaw unhinged. “The babe?”

  “Qui. You mustn’t speak of this. They need to go to the New World, for their destiny is there as well. Unfortunately the price is the life of their child.”

  He imagined poor Vashti mourning her babe. “No, Isaiah, you must warn them. She cannot suffer so. It will destroy her spirit, and I will not bear it. She is so full of life. I want nothing to ever change that, be her mine or Caleb’s.”

  “Hush, frére.” He smiled. “When they reach the Americas they shall build a home, and in that home they shall raise a brood of babes. She will have more children. None shall replace the one she lost, but one, a little girl, is the only child you need concern yourself with.”

  He frowned. “Why is that?”

  “Because she shall be your destiny.”

  Isaiah had always had premonitions. Ezekiel had learned long ago to trust his elder brother’s instincts. He had been right. Vashti had lost her babe and mourned terribly. Distraught and inconsolable, Ezekiel feared she would never be the same again. Perhaps she wasn’t, but she did go on to have four more children, one of them a beautiful child by the name of Faith. His Faith.

  That was not all Isaiah had spoken of that fateful night. They had sat by the open wall. A torch and moonlight cast moving shadows over them as Isaiah went on about their destiny in the new world.

  “I must go, too,” he had said cryptically, the resignation of a man on the front lines of battle showing in his eyes. “I shall go and I shall be a good, noble male for as long as God allows. I will grant every man, woman, and child a memory of the good in me and pray they remember that when the time comes.”

  Ezekiel didn’t understand the morose tone in his brother’s voice that night. He had been distracted with thoughts of his own mate, yet thinking back, it had all made perfect sense. Isaiah had done exactly as he set out to do. He was a charitable man, always helping others, protecting the females, and gifting the children with numerous whimsical finds. His presence was sought after and his stories were legend.

  When they had finally arrived in the New World, they were in pitiful shape, every last one of them. Sadness weighed every stride they took on their pilgrimage to Lancaster from Philadelphia. The Charming Nancy had been a tomb upon the sea, and many immortals found their mortality upon that d
readed voyage. The emotional journey they had taken cloaked their people for months. Perhaps they had been on the farm for over a year before the first member dared smile again. It was the children who did it. They replenished the joy in the adult’s lives and made the pain of loss a little less with each innocent chirp and babble.

  The males decided to form a council, taking direction from the other Amish orders in the area, many of which had traveled among their kind. There had been nine immortal families. The senior male of each family stood as a council elder, and as a group, they elected Eleazar King to represent them as a whole.

  For a century, they had managed a small farm, and then the callings began to happen more and more. Ezekiel had watched Faith grow into a beautiful woman and married her on her seventeenth birthday. Many other immortal matings had taken place, but it was the matings with the English mortals that impressed him most. With each mate who was discovered among the locals, Ezekiel became more and more convinced that this was where they were intended to be.

  He recalled the late 1800s, just before the turn of the century. He had been drunk because Faith had gone through a terrible labor delivering Fisher. His memories were blurry, but he would never forget how distracted Isaiah had been that night.

  “Congratulations, bredder,” Isaiah had praised, patting him on the back. His words were sincere, but something clouded his happiness.

  “What is it, Isaiah?”

  “It is nothing,” his brother lamented, never wanting to burden anyone with his own troubles. “I am simply happy for you and perhaps a bit envious. Shame on me.” He laughed. “I am quite proud of you. All of these children have made you an honorable male. You will do fine on the council someday.”

  He had frowned. So long as another male was his senior, he had no place on the council. “You are speaking nonsense, Isaiah. Have a drink.”

  He had. They drank for several hours and in the early dawn, Faith had given him a stern lecture about sobriety and babes. It seemed like a thousand years ago, a time where even their arguments were happy. There was an air of invincibility then. Sadness was only an illusion he could not wrap his brain around, yet now it was what laced every breath and thought he had.