Destiny Defied (The Destiny Series)

by Marx, J. A.

  Isaac used his library voice. “We need to wear close-toed footwear while hiking.”

  Sabio had worn flip-flops. “Those stones looked like miniature altars.”

  Mr. Fletcher had mentioned that different groups used the Cay for religious purposes. Why people would place these ashy stones in the middle of a path like an exclamation point of their sacred endeavor posed a mystery.

  Spitting on the smudge, Sabio erased it with his thumb. “We’ve gotta do something about Kiko’s fixation with Hope being a sociopath.”

  “Agreed.” Isaac glanced at his patient. “I have a suspicion about her. But I want to test my theory first. You work on Kiko.”

  He intended to bore a hole in her defense shield.

  Soft music roused Hope, caressing her like a pleasant breeze. We’re on your side popped up like a banner in her mind. Only Isaac wasn’t there saying it when she opened her eyes.

  Instead, the resident musician was perched on the cast iron table, playing a twelve-string guitar. Jase’s happy blue eyes complemented his lavish grin. “Hungry?”

  Thoughts of Swedish Fish made Hope smile. She rose with only a hint of light-headedness and followed him inside to a zesty aroma.

  “Glad you’re awake.” Sabio pulled a chair out from the table. “For you.”

  Did the Foursome always seat strangers at mealtime, or did they deem her too weak to seat herself? She complied, wrinkling her nose at the sphinx.

  “This is my way of showing you respect.” Sabio’s tone reproved her, yet the way he said respect gave her gooseflesh.

  Rubbing the bumps from her arms, she surveyed the entrée. Barbecue chicken, rolls, and roasted corn. Through the rear glass doors to the porch, she spotted a large grill, still smoking.

  The boys’ heads lowered. “… Amen.” The ritual initiating dinner ended the same as the lunch ritual had.

  Why thank God? He didn’t cook.

  Akiko again dished food onto her plate, moving too fast for her to argue. He then tonged a chicken leg onto his own plate. “Excellent. Mrs. Quinn’s primo barbecue sauce.”

  That’s … Sabio’s mom. Desperate to avoid an interrogation, Hope teased out more details about life in Ohio.

  Dinner ended with a flurry of action, and everyone except her seemed to know what to do. Leaving her dishes in the kitchen sink, she strolled into the living room.

  Akiko and Jase were swatting a tiny beanbag to each other, using only their knees and feet.

  The Asian dropped the beanbag. “It’s entertainment time.” He jumped onto the floral couch, turning it into a stage.

  Eager for a show, Hope situated herself cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table. Jase, Sabio, and Isaac joined her.

  Akiko cleared his throat. “Here’s an impersonation of Isaac on the tower. Guarding.”

  Guarding what? She wished he spoke plainly.

  Posing like a statue of Charles Atlas, Akiko flexed his modest biceps. He dissected the audience with his gaze—just like Isaac. Akiko pointed at Jase and blew an imaginary whistle. “Out of the pool, brat! Don’t ever goof off on my watch again.”

  The boys whooped.

  Ah, lifeguarding. She hadn’t expected the humdrum Asian to project such a powerful voice. She hollered over the noisy threesome, “Do another one.”

  The actor fetched a cup half-full of water from the kitchen and set it on the coffee table. “Here’s young Jase and his screaming kid sister.”

  Dropping to his knees, Akiko flapped his arms. “Daddy! Jasen’s chasing meeee.” His pouty face turned naughty as he grabbed the cup and dumped the water on Jase. Akiko shielded his backside and scrunched his face in fear at an imaginary tall being. “I was just helping Ashleigh take a bath,” he whimpered.

  Smiling at the boys’ bantering, Hope pondered the concept of sister.

  Jase dried his drizzly face with his shirt. “I still drench Ash. When Dad’s not watching.”

  Craving more details on the Ohioans, she clapped her hands at the actor. “Show me Sabio.”

  Still on his knees, Akiko held his hands up like paws, mimicking a begging dog. “Whatever you want, Stacy.”

  Sabio knocked him over. “Wrong!”

  Was he serious? Hope shouted over another jovial ruckus, “Does Stacy make you wear a leash?”

  The guffawing faded to silence, and Sabio growled.

  Bad question. Before she could retreat, the sphinx barked and bit at her toes. She shielded her feet, laughing at his rabid canine act.

  The Ohioans carried on as if her obvious faux pas had merely improved the entertainment. They treated her as if she were one of them—a mystery she didn’t dare evaluate too deeply.

  The living room morphed into a wrestling arena, which drove Hope onto the couch to preserve her personal space. Seemed the Ohioans never tired of play fighting. Once the roughhousing dwindled to a tame frolic, the sphinx low-crawled to the bookshelf.

  “A Bible.” Sabio held up a black leather book.

  Their guidebook. Insecurity skated a finger down Hope’s spine. She rose with an eye on the outdoors. The faith conversation she had with Jase on the beach that afternoon replayed in her mind, leaving her with bad vibes. She dallied near the U-kitchen, wedged between anxiety and curiosity.

  Jase ran to the bunkroom and returned with his guitar.

  Since the musician was counteracting Sabio’s plans, Hope stayed. She arranged herself on top the kitchen counter, legs dangling. A safe distance. From what, she didn’t know.

  Jase hooked the strap over his shoulder and winked at her. “Here’s a reenactment of our youth group era.”

  They’d mentioned that group at lunch.

  He started singing unfamiliar, heavily pulsating songs.

  Akiko harmonized. Taking up a corner of the room, Isaac shadowboxed, occasionally uttering sounds that conformed to the music. Apparently, he couldn’t sing.

  Instead of contesting the rock ’n’ roll flavor, Sabio made noises with his mouth, a one-man percussion act.

  Eccentric. Intriguing. The impromptu concert united the motley Foursome. She envied their connection, almost wanting to join in. The energy peaked, and they shouted and clapped in a virile exhibition.

  The bungalow’s atmosphere altered, as if alive, and Hope couldn’t calm her galloping heart. She felt comforted. No, guilt-ridden. No … both. She longed for refuge. Then feared it. She heard the word god sung several times. Were these songs of homage to their deity?

  Were they not alone in this room?

  Ridiculous. This was only singing. Skin crawling, she chided her imagination.

  The concert stopped, and for one second … peace.

  Get out now. The raspy cry jarred her. She looked around for the culprit, though she knew the voice was in her head.

  Sabio breezed past and tore off a strip of paper towel from the bracket above the sink. After blotting his forehead and neck, he returned to the living room and picked up the Bible. “I read this earlier. It’s pretty cool.”

  Whatever the sphinx had to say would be better than the kitchen ghost’s raspy taunting. She relocated to the couch where Jase was tossing the beanbag back and forth across the room to Isaac.

  “‘Put on all the armor God gives, so you can defend yourself against the devil’s tricks,’” Sabio read. “‘We’re not fighting against humans. We’re fighting against forces and authorities and against rulers of darkness and powers in the spiritual world. So put on the armor. Then when the evil day comes, you’ll be able to defend yourself. And when the battle’s over, you’ll still be standing firm. Let your faith be like a shield, and you’ll be able to stop all the flaming arrows of the devil.’”

  Armor? Rulers of darkness? An attractive mythology.

  “This is what I was talking about up on Mt. Merhamet.” Sabio appeared to believe the writing, as if it transcended folklore. “Powers in the spiritual world are working against us.”

  Hope drew her knees to her chest. “You speak as if the devil’s
real.”

  The beanbag stopped dead in Jase’s hand. Akiko and Isaac stared at her. Apparently, the whole world knew about the devil—except Hope.

  At least the sphinx didn’t make her feel stupid by gawking. “God created a team of immortal beings to serve him and be his messengers on earth. We call them angels. Lucifer, the angel of light, believed he was better than God and tried to take over heaven.”

  Wary of Sabio’s confidence and fluency, she wedged her restless fingers between her thighs. “Is your heaven like Mt. Olympus?”

  “It’s God’s eternal setting.” Sabio laid the book open on the coffee table. “Lucifer, the devil, was banished from heaven. His mission is to keep people from knowing truth.”

  “Why?” She tethered her gaze to the beanbag that started lobbing across the room again.

  “Because—” The sphinx caught the beanbag midair. “If he can get people to worship counterfeit, lifeless deities, such as those of mythology, then he thinks he’s defeating God.”

  Dumb God. Why create an insubordinate servant in the first place?

  Sabio tossed the beanbag back into play. “The devil’s also known as Satan.”

  The alien name fired a polar chill through her bones. Battle armor, flaming arrows, messengers of God, sacrificed. Mythology came alive and tore into her solar plexus.

  Time paused. The haunting silhouette ... It had even tormented her dreams while she slept on the bench. She couldn’t escape him.

  What’s wrong with this island? She willed her insides to stop warring.

  Taking deep breaths helped her get to her feet. She hurried around the kitchen table and hoofed it out of the bungalow without looking back.

  Barely making it to the far side of the building, she threw up dinner.

  I warned you to leave.

  She spun around to confront the mocker.

  Stop it. Nobody’s here. Swallowing the nasty aftertaste of stomach acid, she leaned against the bungalow, letting her gut settle.

  Peace. Nothing but an illusion!

  Time paused again … A vision of robed figures zipped through her mind. Chanting. Terrorizing.

  Not real. Only my imagination. Huddling beneath the glow coming from the bunkroom window, she cupped her hands around her eyes to shrink her peripheral field. Afraid to stay outside, refusing to go inside, Hope felt trapped.

  Alone.

  Chapter 14

  Cloaked in shadows near the bungalow’s entrance, Lord Vétis encountered militant vibes. Whatever was happening indoors mangled his spirit. He prayed Riki would suffer the same disgust. The screen door opened, and the chosen one finally fled the poisonous hive.

  He listened to her heave, purging herself of the toxic deceptions of humanity. Her retching pleasured his ears more than the finest orchestral performance.

  While she languished in instability, severed from the mongrels, Vétis considered seizing her. Darkness would conceal his approach, but he’d need rope, or twine, something with which to bind her. And a weapon. Brute strength alone would not prevail against Riki Hammad.

  The bungalow door opened again.

  Holding his breath, Vétis backed farther around the corner, hurling bitter energy at the intruder.

  If Akiko wasn’t outnumbered, he would’ve disputed the fallacies in Sabio’s sermon. Their demon fantasies belonged in horror movies and Halloween stories. Not to mention his friends were too narrow-minded to tolerate a realist’s opinions.

  While his thespian talents helped him keep up a believable front, Akiko’s real challenge lay in proving he could be kind to the devious Hope.

  Her abrupt exit from the bungalow set off a private party in his heart.

  Sabio flung the hacky sack and hit him in the chest. “Here’s your chance, Kiko. Go talk to her.”

  The scholar had tried to convince Akiko earlier to stop criticizing Hope and reroute his frustration into mercy. But liars didn’t deserve mercy, and he wanted no role in her attention-craving theatrics. Once his friends realized how she was deceiving them, his criticism would be justified.

  On the other hand, Dr. Caedis had appointed him as her babysitter. If Hope wandered too far in the dark and got hurt, Akiko would get the blame. And if he didn’t go talk to her, his friends might wrongly assume she had the controlling edge.

  Can’t win. He blasted off the couch. “I was already planning to.”

  Gripping the doorframe, he stretched his neck out, searching the starlit setting.

  Slouched against the far corner of the bungalow was a shadowy figure with her face in her hands. A peculiar choice of hangout. No view. Nothing to sit on.

  You can’t fool me. Akiko stepped onto the deck and slid the bungalow door closed behind him.

  A gust of winter snatched his breath. His heart galloped into his throat, and he threw up a hand to shield himself from the pelting hail.

  In two blinks, the storm passed.

  I did NOT just imagine that. Logic argued that he did. No ice particles, no pits in the wood siding, nothing to prove it happened—except his frostbitten lungs. Only one word could describe an experience that bizarre. Attack.

  He grabbed the door lever but then let go. If he went back inside, what would he tell them? They’d say he’d seen too many horror movies. Then he’d have no ammunition against their comic-book faith.

  Temples pulsing, he tiptoed across the deck and down the steps like a kid on a midnight trip to the bathroom, afraid of monsters. This kind of stuff never happened back home.

  He slowed up near the drama queen, trusting she wouldn’t want company. “Hope?”

  She jumped. “Did you say something besides my name?”

  “Nope. Just walked up.” Still chilled from the hailstorm, Akiko crossed his arms and stored each clammy hand under an armpit. “Why? Are you hearing voices?”

  Her head nodded haltingly then lowered.

  Schizophrenic? In need of a padded cell? He wished his friends could witness this. “Do you still hear them?”

  Her focus leveled straight at him. “You believe me?”

  “Yes.” If he could get her to open up, even talk about Dr. Caedis, they could resolve everything. Then Akiko wouldn’t have to keep secrets. “What kind of voices? What do they say?”

  Her gaze broke away. What did he expect? If someone knew he was hearing voices, he wouldn’t answer either.

  A sudden, offensive stench made him gag. “Did you just get sick?” The smelly proof required no testimony, but it did explain her rude departure.

  Hope walked toward the deck.

  Had he wrongly judged her? What if she just needed time to get to know them and to feel comfortable?

  He followed. “Sorry. I didn’t know you came out here for that reason.”

  “Me neither.” She settled on the top step.

  “You mean that’s not why you left?” The pendant tingled against his chest like a static charge. He wiggled it. “Did a voice tell you to leave?”

  Slapping a hand over her mouth, Hope ran back to the side of the bungalow and doubled over. She definitely did not need company.

  Before his gag reflex could take action, Akiko rushed up the steps and inside. He barely reached the kitchen counter, and regret snared him like a noose. Friends used to describe him as merciful and sympathetic. He didn’t want to lose that reputation.

  Sabio was right. Why am I acting like a jerk?

  Recalling the sensation of something prickling his head while at the beach earlier, he wondered if Hope had experienced the same thing. What if that had made her scream but she hadn’t confessed it to keep them from tagging her as crazy? Suppose she wasn’t trying to manipulate them?

  What if Dr. Caedis was?

  Needing to figure this whole thing out, Akiko returned to the mobbing darkness with two items.

  After convulsing with dry heaves, Hope unbent her aching self. Bad corn? Contaminated barbecue sauce? As long as the Ohioans got sick too, she wouldn’t feel like the oddball.

  T
hat selfish thought made her feel worse.

  Not surprised that Akiko had left, she ambled back to the deck and slumped into a cast iron chair, bemoaning the stupidity of telling him about the voices. He was probably laughing about it with his friends.

  The screen door opened, and she braced herself for teasing laughter.

  The Asian shuffled out and handed her a glass of water. “Have a tick-tack.”

  Taken aback, she stared at the tiny white capsule. Why? How? Not knowing what else to do, she swallowed the pill with water, assuming it was for nausea. “So you don’t think I’m abnormal for hearing voices?”

  Embarrassed that she’d let that thought slip, she planted her elbow on the arm of the chair and shielded her eyes with a hand.

  Akiko sat across from her. “Can I be real with you?”

  Lifting her hand like a hinged shutter, she studied his moonlit expression. Kindness?

  “I know what it’s like feeling abnormal. My grade school archenemies used to make fun of me because I looked nothing like my white family.”

  She frowned. “White?”

  “I’m adopted. My mother was Japanese. Nobody knew my birthfather’s identity.” He tipped back in his chair. “In junior high, kids used to call me Cheapo Kiko.”

  This better not be a performance.

  “I took up acting because I could hide my rejection under stage makeup and costumes.” He tossed a tick-tack into his mouth. “I had Sabio, Ize, and Jase as allies.”

  She envied the Foursome’s perceptible, deep bond. Even their faith. Well, sort of. The faith thing spooked her.

  Closing the hand shutter over her eyes again, she mentally begged on her knees. Someone, please take away the dread.

  Akiko’s toes tapped hers. “No matter what’s going on inside your head right now, there will be an end to all this.”

  She dropped her hand into her lap, wishing she shared his certitude. “Naturally.”

  “You look distressed. Do you need some sort of medication?”

  Aren’t you perceptive. “The tick-tack was sufficient.”