Fourth Vision of Destiny - Mike

by Kallysten

  Fourth Vision of Destiny

  Mike

  By Kallysten

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2010 Kallysten

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The right of Kallysten to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  First Published February 2010

  First Edition

  All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Mary S.

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  Fourth Vision of Destiny – Mike

  Midnight and the New Year were still a couple of hours away, but somewhere down the beach someone must have started celebrating early. The smell of powder was faint on the breeze that drifted over the balcony, and every so often the muffled sound of explosions caused multicolored sparks of fireworks to dance through Daisy’s mind.

  She was watching Woods, who in turn was watching the ocean through the wooden railing of the balcony. He had just finished reading Joan’s future, and a small smile was still fluttering on his lips.

  He put down his empty glass on the low table next to him and looked at Daisy. “How many left?”

  Daisy took a quick head count. “Six… no, five more. Jack left early.”

  She noticed Woods’ quick grimace at the name, and wondered yet again what Woods had showed Jack’s girlfriend Lydia about her future. Everything pointed toward a break-up, although neither Lydia nor Woods would talk about it. Lydia had been warned that the more she talked about the vision, the faster she would forget what she had seen. As for Woods, his policy was not to share what he saw with anyone who wasn’t directly concerned. Daisy understood both of them, but that didn’t stop her from wondering what would happen to her friends. She only wished they would find happiness in the end.

  “Five,” Woods repeated, thoughtful. His eyebrows and the corners of his mouth rose at the same time, teasing. “Including you?”

  Pulling her shawl closed more tightly, Daisy snorted. “I told you, I’m not doing this.”

  Woods clucked his tongue. “Ah, Daisy… Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I didn’t realize it was an adventure to kiss a guy on the first date.”

  It was only when she saw surprise flash through his face and heard his chuckle that she realized what she had said. Heat was creeping up her neck and cheeks and she tried to take the words back, but it was too late.

  “A date? Are you saying inviting me over to read your friends was only a pretext?”

  “Of course not!” The force of her reply surprised her, and Woods’ grin widened a little more.

  “What’s that quote about ladies and how much they protest?”

  She huffed, looking away from him and back toward the cottage. She couldn’t see her friends from here, but their laughter continued to drift out.

  “Laugh all you want,” she muttered, glancing back at Woods with something that could have been vindictiveness. “Maybe you won’t laugh so much when I go and fetch your next victim. This one’s a guy.”

  The grimace she expected didn’t materialize, although his grin did thin out visibly. A kiss was necessary for him to see and share visions of someone’s future, and Daisy suspected he liked to kiss women more than he did men.

  “Yeah, I figured we’d get there eventually. There’s… what? Three men left and two women?” His lips twitched upward again. “Besides you, I mean.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Correct. Except for the part where I’m not doing this.”

  He laughed once more and stood, leaning against the railing again. “Why don’t you go get him, then?”

  The view over the ocean really was beautiful, and rather than going in to get Mike, Daisy came to stand by Woods’ side, her arms resting on the railing just inches from him.

  “Do you mind?” she asked after a few seconds. “Reading men, I mean?”

  What she really meant was, did he mind kissing men. Woods seemed to understand, though. He tilted his head toward her, mouth twisted in a lopsided smile. “I can’t say those are my favorite readings,” he admitted.

  “So why do you do it?”

  Woods snickered. “I don’t want to be sued for gender discrimination if I only read women.”

  She poked him in the shoulder, although she doubted he felt the touch all that much through his jacket. “Be serious.”

  He was still smiling when he asked, “Why do you want to know?” but his expression was more solemn. He just might answer, Daisy thought, if she only gave him a good reason to.

  “I’ve watched you kiss three of my friends,” she said quietly, and had to shake her head as the memories surfaced of these three quick but not particularly chaste kisses. “Honestly, involuntary body reactions aside, you didn’t seem to enjoy yourself all that much. So why do you do it?”

  From the moment she had heard about what Woods did, she had been certain his visions had to be hallucinations of some kind: fraud. She wasn’t so sure anymore. All it had taken was Alicia’s sheer delight and happiness after she had been shown a future with someone Woods didn’t know for cracks to appear in Daisy’s certainty. But she still couldn’t fathom what Woods got out of it. He appeared on television shows and gave romantic advice based on his supposed ‘extensive’ experience, had written a best-seller about the same, but when she had called him on behalf of her friends he had been quick to let her know he never accepted money in exchange for sharing visions with someone.

  He nodded slightly, as though accepting the question, and looked over at the ocean. The waves were shallow, the water unusually still. The reflection of the moon was a perfect image.

  “I’ve read hundreds of people,” he said, sounding a little wistful. “Thousands, even. I’ve seen men and women end up with the last person they would’ve expected. I’ve seen people who thought they were happy with their spouse leave them, or welcome a third person in their relationship. I’ve seen… Many things. Some quite strange, believe me.”

  She frowned at his answer. She had expected him to claim some higher purpose in bringing people together, maybe, or to admit that he needed the material for his books, but this? She was almost disappointed. “You’re saying you’re doing it for some kind of voyeuristic kink?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m saying there’s one thing I’ve never seen.”

  “And what is that?” Daisy asked, becoming more confused with each passing moment.

  “My own future. I’ve never kissed anyone and seen myself as the love of their life.”

  His words came out flat, but beyond them, Daisy could hear something she knew all too well: loneliness.

  “At first I only read women. I was looking for my future wife. And then one day it struck me. What if my future is with a guy? What if by passing reading on guys I just miss my one chance to find who
I’m destined to be with?”

  She stared at him for a few seconds. They were back to the main problem she had with what he did. “But if you’re destined to be with them,” she asked a little impatiently, “wouldn’t you find them anyway?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But would you risk it?” Turning his face back toward her, he held her gaze. “Honestly, now, Daisy. If having this viewing means you’ll find the one person that can make you happier than anything, and not having it means the possibility that you won’t find them, wouldn’t you take the chance? Even if it means kissing someone you despise?”

  No, I wouldn’t, Daisy wanted to reply, more to be contradictory than because she was sure of the answer, but it was something else entirely that passed her lips. “I don’t despise you,” she heard herself say.

  Woods turned around so that he was leaning back against the railing, his back to the ocean. His eyes were on her, his grin long gone. “You called me a fraud, as I recall,” he said, and there was no teasing left in his voice.

  The air seemed more chilly suddenly, and Daisy shivered despite her shawl. Standing straight, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Well, maybe now that I understand better what you’re doing…”

  “Does that mean you’ll let me read you?” he asked yet again.

  She shook her head, wondering why he was insisting so much. “I’m not your next client. Mike is. And unlike you, he doesn’t mind kissing men.”

  “True,” Mike said behind her, startling her enough that Daisy pressed a hand to her heart and gasped. “Although whenever possible I like to get more than just a name before the kissing part.”

  He was grinning as he approached, but his fisted hands in his pants pockets were a telltale sign of nervousness to anyone who knew him well enough. He had left his suit jacket inside. Daisy rubbed her arms and thought that he might regret it soon.

  “Well, you two can talk all night as far as I’m concerned,” she said, returning his smile, “but I think the others might object to that.”

  Mike gave a weak laugh. “I guess so, yes.” He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “Mind giving us some privacy?”

  “What, you don’t want a chaperone?” she teased and leaned up on the tips of her toes to press a quick kiss to Mike’s cheek. “Just kidding,” she said, then added in a whisper she hoped Woods wouldn’t catch, “Good luck.”

  After a quick look at Woods—and judging by his bemused expression, he had heard her—she stepped back inside, closing the glass door behind her. So far she had stayed until the beginning of the actual vision, but Mike had asked for privacy, and it felt wrong to watch after that. She returned to the dining room, joining her circle of friends, but already wondering what Mike would see.

  Her friends had pulled the chairs away from the dining table and into a loose circle. Brett had taken off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. Another jacket on the empty chair next to him marked it as Mike’s.

  “Sit with us,” Brett said, picking up Mike’s jacket from the seat and placing it over the back of the chair. “Do you want a drink?”

  As she sat down, Daisy tried to remember how many glasses of wine she had had so far. Three, maybe? She didn’t feel lightheaded, so she nodded and sat down. “Yes, thank you.”

  “You didn’t stay to chaperone?” Brad asked her, tongue in cheek.

  Daisy chuckled along with the rest of her friends. “They didn’t look like they needed me. Maybe I’ll check on them in a bit.”

  She accepted the glass Brett was handing her. While he was up, he refilled Rachel’s and Brad’s glasses, then held out a tray of amuse-bouche for all of them to pick from, even offering them napkins before he sat down again.

  “You’ve missed your calling,” Cathleen teased him. “You should have been a waiter, not a bar manager.”

  Brett laughed, raising his glass in a toast. He’d waited on tables all through college, learning about the business from both sides of things. “I still help on busy nights,” he said, then took a sip of his white wine. “We get so many different clients; half the fun is seeing who’s there.”

  They talked about his bar a little longer, and the city he had moved to, Haventown. It was just a couple hours south, but the city’s ambiance was reputed to be very different and much more friendly to vampires. Brett said he had moved there because of a business opportunity that had been too good to miss, but Daisy had always wondered if maybe more than that had drawn Brett to Haventown. She could never stop herself from checking his neck and wrists every time she saw him—not that it meant anything, really. A bite mark could easily be hidden.

  “So how did you decide Joan would go before Mike?” Daisy asked when a lull rose in the conversation. “You were all much too amused when I asked before, there’s got to be a funny story there.”

  The five friends exchange glances before they burst out laughing together. Joan was the one who calmed down first and began to explain.

  “Well, Mike was saying he ought to go first because I’ve already got the love of my life and he’s had no luck finding his.” She tilted her head up toward Brad at that, lips pursed, and he planted a resounding kiss on her mouth. They were sitting next to each other, their chairs pulled close enough that Brad’s arm encircled her shoulders.

  “So,” Brad picked up the story, “I asked him how many times he’s gone out in the past year to try and find Mr. Right.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “And he got very quiet.”

  “We asked Brett,” Cathleen chimed in, sounding as amused as Brad, “because really, who else would know?”

  Daisy turned a mildly surprised look to Brett. “And you told them?”

  Brett seemed almost offended. “And betray Mike’s confidence? No. I didn’t tell them.” He took a sip of wine before he added ruefully, “But I’ll admit I might have chuckled. Just a little.”

  “You didn’t chuckle you laughed!” Joan interjected, drawing laughter from all of them. “And then Mike blushed like crazy. I started counting on my fingers: we tried to set him up with that guy I work with, they went on a blind date, so that was one.”

  “And I introduced him to my cousin,” Brett said, “but they never even went out for drinks, so that didn’t count as two.”

  “Let me guess,” Daisy said with a small, incredulous shake of her head. “He didn’t go on more than one date during the entire year, did he?”

  “That was it,” Joan confirmed. “He admitted it. And since he’s not looking all that hard for love, me going first was just as valid as him.”

  Rolling her eyes at how silly they could get, Daisy snorted. “That still doesn’t tell me how you decided who would go first.”

  “They flipped a coin,” Rachel finished the story in her usual quiet voice, and yet another round of laughter spread through the group.

  “So who’s going next?” Daisy asked after wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

  The laughs slowly quieted down as they all looked at each other.

  “If no one else volunteers, I think I will,” Cathleen said with a light shrug, then turned a curious look at Brad. “Are you still going to do it?”

  He beamed, instantly turning his eyes to Joan, who smiled right back. “Hell, yes,” he said. “I want to see my boys, too.” He brushed a kiss to her lips before correcting himself. “Our boys.”

  Daisy hid a smile in her glass. She was really glad that Joan and Brad seemed to be all right, especially after what had happened with Lydia. Troubled again, she glanced back toward the balcony, and hoped that things would turn out all right for Mike, too.

  * * * *

  Mike was never, ever allowing his friends to set him up on a blind date again, not even if he had to spend the rest of his life alone.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you. Goodnight, then.”

  An awkward handshake later, Timmy—honestly, what grown man asked a potential relationship interest to call him Timmy on the first date?—rose from the small table and
headed straight for the club’s exit. Mike consoled himself with the thought that at least Timmy wasn’t stopping on the dance floor to try and pick up someone else. That would have been the last straw.

  As he took several large gulps from his vodka cocktail, Mike let his gaze trail over the club. He had been there for more than an hour, and he had grown accustomed to the lack of light, enough so to appraise the club’s clientele. For someone on the market—someone like him—this certainly was a great place. All types of men crowded the place, dancing, playing pool in the back, sitting at the bar or at small tables like he and Timmy had been. All he had to do, really, was decide what he wanted. Blonde or brunette. Flamboyantly gay or more masculine. Someone tall and bulky enough to wrap him in his arms or someone with a smaller build, who would need to tilt his head up to kiss him.

  Finishing his drink, Mike slipped a tip beneath his coaster and stood up, feeling a bit tipsy. He didn’t know what kind of man he wanted, in his bed or in his life, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t find him here—if for no other reason that he couldn’t imagine approaching anyone here, not even the handsome man at the bar.

  Or maybe…

  Mike blinked and shook his head, trying to get a grip on thoughts that seemed as fuzzy as mist. When he looked again, the man hadn’t moved. He was sitting on a high stool at the bar, a beer bottle in his hand as he leaned back against the counter and observed the dancing crowd. His left foot tapped a beat against the bottom rung of the stool, and a small smile stretched across his lips, making him look like a picture of sheer relaxation.

  He looked vaguely familiar, and as Mike stumbled his way through the crowd and toward the bar, he tried to figure out why. He was fairly certain he didn’t actually know him. Maybe he had seen him at the bar before? It had been more than six months since he had come to the club, though, and his memory for faces wasn’t that good. Even for good looking faces such as this man’s, his strong jaw balanced by a sensual mouth, bright green eyes sparkling with life as they swept over the dancers—and over Mike, too, with no glimmer of recognition in his gaze.