Twisted Fate (5, Rhyn Eternal)

by Ford, Lizzy

  He didn’t consider himself the predator other deities often did. He usually had no intention of interfering with – or ending – anyone’s life, and he wasn’t trying to lure humans or Immortals into Hell or mess with them in any way. If anything, he was a good guy, an aloof ally to everyone around him, willing to help along someone’s Future for the right price.

  “What is it you wanted to show me?” he asked. “This isn’t my normal scene.”

  “Not civilized enough?” Karma asked mockingly.

  “It’s boring,” he replied with a charming smile. “I can do uncivilized if it’s interesting.”

  “Still not peeking into your own future,” she asked.

  He shrugged. “More of the same. I stopped looking a while ago. My life is more boring than that of any of these humans. Besides, if something interesting happens, I want to be surprised.” And … he’d taken care of the only surprise in his own path that could derail the life he preferred to live.

  “Then I guess you’ll see, won’t you?” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her gaze.

  The world held little capable of surprising him or ensnaring his attention for long. He privately doubted anything in the mortal world his too easily amused sister wanted to show him was going to be remotely worth his time. He went along with her, though, because he had nothing better to do. The normal tug of war between Immortals and demons was unusually calm. Even the deals made among deities failed to impress him, and he’d spent a few weeks in the jungles of South America doing manual labor alongside an undiscovered, primitive civilization that still viewed him as a god.

  Unable to alter the chains of events he needed to, he’d resigned himself to waiting for the right opportunity. At least the trip to a festival was enough to keep him occupied for half a day.

  The constant calculations of the destinies of those around him streamed through his thoughts like background music.

  Ten percent chance of tripping over the speed bump.

  Eighty three percent chance of bumping into the man she’ll marry.

  Fifty two percent chance of being hit by a car before the end of the day.

  Fate purposely nudged the man about to trip out of the way of the speed bump and stopped fast enough to ensure the woman behind him was certain to smack into her future husband.

  The last calculation made him pause, and he turned his focus to the person who had triggered it. The married mother of two was standing in front of a booth texting. Fate considered her for a moment, accessing the chain of events of her destiny to see what happened later to give her such a high percentage of dying. He then approached and smacked into her.

  Her phone clattered to the ground. Pretending to be off balance, he crushed the screen with his heel and then stepped back. “My goodness!” he exclaimed, feigning surprise. “I’m so sorry!” He bent to retrieve the phone and verify it was indeed inoperable.

  “Oh, damn,” the woman replied, frowning. She accepted it back.

  Zero percent chance of being hit by a car before the end of the day.

  “Here. Let me reimburse you,” Fate said and handed her a few hundred dollar bills.

  She started to protest.

  “No, take it,” he said.

  Charmed by his smile, she didn’t object again, and he moved on.

  “And you lecture me about interfering,” Karma said, joining him several steps later.

  “I’m done playing for today,” he said with a shrug. “Beside, she’s got two kids. Might as well save someone some grief.”

  “And if you knew she beat one of them and was scheduled to be balanced today?”

  “You’ll get her eventually.” He glanced at her. “We aren’t competing, Karma.”

  “Whatever.”

  Fate dwelled for a split second on the new information before dismissing it. His job was the Future; Karma’s was balance. They could be at odds, if they chose to be. But as siblings, their tiffs tended to last many years without leaving scars between the two of them. They always ended up together again. The bond of family was thicker than that of their inherited duties.

  He trailed her, looking for something interesting among the booths and exhibits while Karma made a beeline through the crowd to somewhere specific.

  Ninety nine percent …

  Three percent …

  Seventy nine percent …

  The numbers continued to float through his mind. He saw Karma had stopped several booths ahead and continued at the leisurely pace towards her.

  Eighty three percent …

  Point zero four percent …

  Silence.

  Twenty percent …

  He stopped, jarred by the interruption in the flow of numbers. Fate searched the crowd for the anomaly. Karma was retreating towards him, a puzzled expression on her face. He stepped back.

  Eighty three percent …

  Point zero four percent …

  Silence.

  Twenty percent …

  Following the odd break in predictions, he drew near a booth with several customers in front of it. He plucked the threads of each person’s destiny and dismissed them just as fast. He hit the brick wall of someone whose destiny he couldn’t see, who had no thread to pull, no chain of events and no calculations whatsoever.

  The attractive young woman was seated at the booth behind a stack of colorful journals. Her large eyes were bright blue-green, her silky hair blue-black, her high cheekbones and jawline refined and her smooth skin the color of dark honey. Hers was an understated, simple beauty grounded in the symmetry of her features and striking eyes. He’d had his pick of women across the millennia – and decided quickly her looks ranked towards the top of those he’d known. He hadn’t felt the spark of instant attraction in a very long time.

  Karma joined him, and together they stared long enough for the two women at the booth to exchange a look with one another.

  “Can we help you?” asked the woman with no future, standing.

  “What is it, precious?” Karma hissed.

  Teal eyes slid to his sister and back to him. “Journals, Gollum,” she responded, unfazed by Karma’s oddness. She picked up two and handed one to each of them.

  Fate took it without bothering to look at it. His fingers grazed the stranger’s as he did, and a flutter of warm electricity shot through him. He gazed down at her, trying to place the sensation and what it meant about the woman before him.

  She froze, as if feeling it as well.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured with a half smile.

  The woman flushed red deep beneath her dark complexion. But she didn’t look away, didn’t move, as if trapped in the same strange spell he was.

  “These are so wonderful!” Karma’s near squeal jarred him out of the trance. She ran her hands over the textured cover with interest before lifting her eyes to the pretty stranger. “But what are you?”

  For once, Fate was happy for Karma’s uncivilized candidness. Never in all his time had he ever run into someone who had no future – yet still lived. He’d been looking for something to intrigue him and found it where he didn’t expect to.

  As if realizing she was staring at him, the pretty woman cleared her throat and released the journal. The warm current stopped when they no longer touched.

  “Another one,” she said and rolled her eyes at her friend. “All yours.” She turned her back to them and moved to the back of the booth, crossing her arms unhappily.

  “You’ll have to forgive my sister,” Fate said with a smile. “She’s different.” He pretended to look over the journal, more interested in the brooding woman dressed in black. “This isn’t really to my taste.” He set the journal down. “I tend to like something a little more … polished. Leather usually. Do you have anything like that?”

  “No.” The face of the auburn-hair woman before him turned pink. “These are made from ecologically sustainable materials and vegan friendly.”

  “I’m definitely not vegan,” he said.

/>   “Then maybe you’re at the wrong booth,” the woman in the back snapped at him. Her eyes were fiery, her jaw clenched. She left the shadows for the table.

  “I’m certain they’re fine journals,” he said.

  “My brother doesn’t like handmade stuff,” Karma explained. “He’s too civilized.”

  “Civilized or arrogant?” challenged the woman with no future. “You don’t normally stop by someone’s table to insult what they’re displaying. Olivia spent at least ten hours on each one of these.”

  Realizing his mistake, Fate offered an absent smile. “I didn’t realize they were handmade. The quality is exceptional, just not what I prefer.”

  “It’s cool, Stephanie,” said Olivia with a smile. “Like you said. This place is full of strange people.”

  “I think I said assholes,” Stephanie muttered under her breath.

  “Assholes?” Fate raised an eyebrow. “A rather harsh judgment for a potential customer, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t think we want the money of someone who can’t appreciate something uncivilized,” Stephanie responded.

  Olivia laughed nervously. “I’m sorry. Steph is having a rough day.”

  “My fault,” Fate replied. “Your friend is right. I’ve managed to offend the creator of these beautiful journals, and I apologize.”

  Olivia grinned.

  Normally adept at handling people and situations, Fate was finding himself unable to figure out what to say to improve the current situation. By peeking into someone’s future, he was usually able to discern enough about them to know how to talk to them. But this Stephanie was an enigma. He wasn’t even able to tell if she were a true human, Immortal, or demon.

  They gazed at one another, he curious and she angry he’d insulted her friend.

  “I love them!” Karma exclaimed, oblivious to the tense, silent exchange, and picked up another. “I want four, one for each day of the week. Is that okay?” She peered up at him. “Brother?”

  “Of course,” he replied, realizing all of them were staring at him while he gazed at Stephanie.

  “How about seven?” Stephanie asked his sister. “That’s almost two week’s worth.”

  “Even better!” Karma agreed.

  He watched Stephanie deftly handle Karma’s odd requests for colors and textures without so much as a blink. The woman with no future helped his sister sort through the journals and choose those she was buying.

  It was rare when he met someone who could tolerate Karma’s absurdities let alone politely respond to her. Fate found himself impressed. The protective brother in him appreciated someone else making the effort to help Karma feel like she wasn’t the outlier she was.

  And … there was something about Stephanie that left him unwilling to look away. She held some sort of magic, whatever she was.

  At a loss of what to say to someone who clearly didn’t know she was different, Fate checked the prices on the sign and paid Olivia, who seemed far less likely to throw his money back at him than Stephanie.

  “Are you from around here?” he asked.

  “We’re from up the coast. Newport, Oregon,” Olivia answered.

  “Ah. Known for the lighthouse, correct?” He smiled, and Olivia’s angst from earlier melted away in response.

  “Exactly!” she replied. “No one knows about Newport.”

  “I’ve traveled extensively the past few years. What part of Newport?”

  Olivia opened her mouth to respond when Stephanie nudged her. “He told you your journals suck. Are you really going to tell him where we live?” she demanded.

  His charisma wasn’t working on Stephanie at all. This wasn’t normal, either. “You’re right,” Fate said smoothly, unfazed. “I’ve been incredibly rude. Can I make it up to both of you? Buy you a drink? Coffee?”

  Stephanie’s anger softened visibly. She glanced at Olivia, who seemed to be waiting for her to decide.

  “Um, it’s okay,” Stephanie said. “I was rude, too. Let’s just call it even.”

  “It would be my pleasure to have a drink with you.”

  She cleared her throat uncomfortably under his steady look and ducked her head. Opening her mouth for what he suspected was going to be a rejection, she had no chance to speak before Olivia piped up.

  “Yes,” she said. “We’d love to. We’re staying in town at a bed and breakfast.” She scribbled down the name on her business card and handed it to him. “You can drop by at seven. There’s a bar next door.”

  Fate accepted the note with a smile. “Thanks.”

  Karma scooped up her new treasures with a grin, and the two of them left the booth.

  “Good thinking,” she said when they were out of earshot. “I was wondering how we’d get a chance to talk to the strange one.”

  “Were you able to read her?” he asked.

  “No. Completely nothing.”

  “Same.”

  “What is she?” Karma gazed up at him curiously.

  “I have no idea.”

  “She’s a mystery!”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. She is.”

  “We likeses mysteries,” she said in her creepy voice. “Do you think she’s a zombie?”

  “I hadn’t considered a zombie,” he replied with a grin. “It’d be an awesome discovery.”

  “Yeah.” Karma was already distracted by something else. She shoved the journals into his arms. “Hold these. I’m gonna go fuck with a psychic.”

  Fate accepted them and watched her approach another booth. He kept his distance, letting her have her fun while he was preoccupied with Stephanie. Nothing he’d experienced in his extensive lifetime explained someone who couldn’t be read by Fate or Karma, the two deities capable of reading any living being in existence, from human to deity to demon. No, it didn’t seem possible someone like Stephanie existed.

  A familiar face drew his attention from his thoughts, and he followed the dark-haired man’s progress through the crowd with interest.

  “Karma, I’ll be back,” he called to his sister. He didn’t wait for her response but shifted the journals and trailed the Ancient Immortal he’d never bothered meeting. Immortals in general didn’t rank a visit from Fate, even though he dutifully tracked the Ancients who sat on the ruling Council That Was Seven. Responsible for managing the Immortal society and combating the Dark One’s attempt to dominate humanity, the Council ranked high enough in importance for Fate to keep tabs on its members from time to time.

  Their activities here in Carmel wouldn’t have interested him in the slightest, if he didn’t think it too convenient to find an Ancient within a hundred meters of a certain woman with no future.

  Fate didn’t believe in coincidences.

  The Ancient entered a dark bar and sat at the counter next to a leggy blonde missing one hand. Fate took a seat several stools down and placed the journals on the stool next to him.

  Kiki. The Ancient was one of seven illegitimate sons of Wynn, the oldest Immortal in existence, a creature even Fate was wary of crossing. Anyone sitting on two breaches between the mortal world and Hell – and unstable enough to open them in the name of self-preservation – was treated with caution even by deities.

  The Ancient Wynn fathered seven sons, three of which were dead and one that was currently exiled. From what Fate knew of their dealings, Kiki was one of three remaining sons currently in favor by the new head of the Council.

  The Immortals spoke too quietly for him to make out their words. He watched the two and pulled their threads from the webbing of destiny to check the choices they were about to make.

  Eighty nine percent chance Kiki won’t reveal their discovery to his father.

  Fourteen percent chance Ileana takes their discovery to the Sanctuary.

  What, or who, was important enough to hide from Wynn? Or to be taken to the Sanctuary, one of four neutral zones in the world where fighting and the presence of any creature with power were forbidden?

  The two got up soon after and left. F
ate remained, dwelling on the day that had turned more interesting than he expected. None of whatever was happening was his business. But he was curious. Karma was right; as different as their temperaments were, they both loved mysteries and surprises, and neither of them paid any attention to boundaries.

  He sensed his sister enter and waited for her. She plopped down at the bar.

  “So you brought me here to show me what?” he asked. “The woman we found?”

  Karma shook her head. “I brought you here because I thought you’d like this place.”

  “It’s nice,” he said. “Not the first time I visited, either. It’s a good choice.”

  She was gazing at him closely. “You approve?”

  “Sure. Great day trip.”

  “What if it’s longer than a day? Would you still like it?”

  “I rarely like being anywhere long.”

  “But there’s a mystery here. You could solve it.”

  “Could.” He studied her. “Is this your way of saying you want us to stay here for a while?”

  “Sorta.”

  “Hmm.” Karma often did things he didn’t understand, which he assumed was because she was reintegrating to the world after a thousand year stint in prison. The modern world was filled with delight and discoveries for her. That she wanted to stay longer than usual didn’t surprise him, but her thoughtful expression did. “This means a lot to you?”

  “I have to tell you something,” she said. “I don’t want you to be mad again like you were a thousand years ago.”

  “I promise not to get mad again so soon,” he replied, amused. “What’s wrong?”

  “So I was thinking about what I do and why I do it,” she began. “The noblest thing I can do for someone is to balance them, to give them a chance to start over. I help people. I have a very important job.”

  “You do,” he agreed.

  “I know I’m not the best at it yet. I know I disappoint you sometimes and our father