Servants of Fate

by Wendy Sparrow

  “I should get you home.”

  She quickly put on the helmet again so he wouldn’t see the tears that sprang to her eyes. Apparently, angels could be real jerks. Nodding, she got on the bike behind him.

  The whole way back she kept thinking that she’d just kissed an angel and she’d liked it. But he hadn’t. Maybe she was the one in hell.

  CHAPTER THREE

  He’d screwed up, but at least he’d stopped it before it got out of hand... well, more out of hand. It was much easier granting time and giving help toward a better fate when he didn’t actually interact with mortals.

  Ruin dropped onto the couch in his condo with a sigh. Taking her for a ride was a mistake. That’s all it was. Add to that, she clearly thought he was some sort of guardian angel that her brother had sent—not the immortal who’d killed him. He could have corrected her, and maybe he should have. Zeit’s wife knew what he was.

  But he’d never had a friend before so hell if he knew how to behave like one. They could blame tonight on that.

  He licked his lips and then cursed himself. It was probably his imagination but he swore he could still taste Phoebe’s lips on his tongue now. She tasted like candy. Seriously. Maybe it was her lip-gloss, but she tasted sweet as sugar. She didn’t smell sweet. No, she had a subtle, but rich floral scent—roses? No. Lavender? No. Sunshine and a summer day. That was what she smelled like. Wildflowers in a meadow.

  Why was he laying here examining it? That wasn’t going to help get her out of his head.

  He ran both hands down his face. He needed to think of anything other than her silky blond hair—the taste of her sweet lips—her eyes all drowsy with passion and heat. Ruin groaned. None of this was helping. He simply had to go without seeing her for a few days, and he’d be fine.

  Just a few days. Maybe a week. She probably wouldn’t even notice.

  That lousy, stupid, egotistical bastard.

  He’d dropped her off and then dropped her completely.

  It’d been an entire week since she saw him last.

  She flipped through the reports in her hand, not really paying attention to the numbers.

  “Are you okay?” Lia asked, watching her.

  She slapped the stack of papers on the desk. “Have you ever had this guy be into you, but not want to be into you, and so he just goes ahead and isn’t, but you can’t change gears like that so you’re still into him, but he’s no longer into you?”

  Lia shook her head slowly.

  “Oh, you haven’t?”

  “No, I just have no idea what you just said.” Lia squinted. “Are you saying you’re hot for a guy but he’s convinced you shouldn’t be together so he’s ignoring you and might’ve said screw it to the whole relationship?”

  Phoebe frowned and shrugged. “Basically. I kissed him, and he kissed me back, but then he pulled back and said it shouldn’t have happened because he wants to just be friends.”

  “Whoa, he friend-zoned you right after you kissed?”

  “I know. That’s bad, right?” How awful was that kiss? It’d felt pretty damn amazing up until he’d stopped it.

  “Well, it isn’t good.”

  She plopped down into her desk chair making it slide into her desk—where she dropped her head down, and then banged it once, twice, three times, and Lia’s hand under her head prevented her from banging it a fourth time.

  “But you want him?”

  She moaned. “You have no idea how much. Lia, he is like every holiday wrapped up in tall, dark, and handsome. He’s funny and there’s this weird little innocence to him. You know when Brad Pitt in Meet Joe Black is eating peanut butter and you just want to be the spoon in his hand? That’s how Ruin is. I get the feeling that he hasn’t experienced a lot of things. I could change that.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He’s a friend of my brother’s. Phillip asked him to watch over me after he passed and to make sure I’m okay. I think Ruin is taking that job very seriously. He told me he’d promised my brother we’d be friends.”

  She could feel Lia’s eyes staring at the back of her head. Phoebe glanced up—sure enough, her friend was eyeing her with speculation evident in her eyes.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She folded her arms and tried to act all casual when she said, “I mean, that’s the first time you’ve brought up your brother since you’ve been back.”

  “It can’t be.”

  “It is.”

  Phoebe slumped in the chair. “Well, it shouldn’t be. I’m finally not crying all the time.”

  “So this guy has helped?”

  “Up until this last week when he ditched me completely—sure. Now, I’m bawling my eyes out over him.” She rubbed her itchy eyes with her palms. Even the mention of this last week made them feel gritty from all the crying. “I don’t even know where he lives to throw myself at him.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What? Find him?”

  “No. Throw yourself at him. Guys like girls who are unavailable.”

  “He wouldn’t know whether I’m available or not because he’s never around.” She slapped both hands on the desk. “You know what? Screw it. You’re right. He wants to be friends? If he ever comes around again, it’s going to be so platonic between us, he’ll think he hallucinated that kiss.”

  Lia put out her fist for a fist bump which Phoebe returned. “That’s right. That’ll get him.”

  She hated playing games but, dammit, he had kissed her back. Seducing an angel with subterfuge was probably really bad.

  She didn’t care.

  In some ways, a week was long enough.

  In every recognizable way, a week was torture and was, in no way, long enough but also far too long. He was losing his freaking mind. That was hell. Never. Again.

  He had nothing to look forward to at the end of the day. He wandered among the residents of Boulder City and jumped to other cities, stopping time, helping others—something that he’d done occasionally, but now did with a single-minded devotion bordering on zealous to fill the time. In every city and no matter who he was with, he missed Phoebe. Now and again, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d restarted time because time without her moved abysmally slow. This was the longest week he could remember in his entire existence.

  When he arrived on her doorstep that night, he was unsure of his welcome.

  The door opened and he had his answer.

  Her eyes widened and she almost smiled. Then, she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe—pointedly not inviting him in. Then, her demeanor went glacial as she asked, “Hey, Ruin, how’s it hanging?” Her tone implied “you’re an ass” more thoroughly than if she’d actually said the words.

  “I’ve been... unexceptional. And you?”

  She blinked. “Unexceptional? What does that mean?”

  Hell if he knew. It was the first word that popped into his head. “Can I come in?”

  “No.”

  His heart... hurt. It felt like someone had reached into his chest, grabbed it, and squeezed. He didn’t like it. Did she not want anything to do with him anymore? That should make him feel relieved. It didn’t.

  “I was just going out,” she said... and the grip on his heart loosened. “I want a chocolate milkshake and I don’t have anything to make it with. C’mon. You can tell me all the cool places you went on your motorcycle this week.”

  Nowhere. Every time he looked at the stupid thing it reminded him of kissing Phoebe. This was really pathetic. He was pathetic. She directed him to a local diner on the ride over. Did she know that her body pressed against his was driving him insane?

  The diner was small and they ended up in an intimate corner booth. There were a few groups of teens, but they were plastered against the front window, waving at cars and chatting with those standing in line.

  It might as well have just been Phoebe and him there in the corner of the diner.

  “I’ve never had a chocolate shake,” he sa
id after they’d ordered. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He had them on the table, then he rubbed them up and down his jeans. They were sweaty. Disgusting. He’d never had that happen before. It must have been the handles of the motorcycle.

  “Never?”

  He shook his head.

  “How old are you?”

  He’d been studying the cracked wooden table, but he looked up at this. Did she really expect him to answer that? She was... smirking.

  Their shakes were delivered while he tried to come up with an answer that was the truth, but not the absolute truth.

  “Maybe it’d be easier if we both just admit you’re not... what... human? Is that what you’d call us?”

  Maybe it would be. She obviously wouldn’t be dissuaded. He didn’t have to tell her he’d taken her brother’s life. Not right away anyway.

  “Mortals,” he said.

  “So, you’re immortal?”

  “Yes.” He took a sip of his milkshake. “This is really good.”

  Her eyes were fixed on his face, and her eyebrows were raised. “You really don’t play ‘mortal’ very convincingly, by the way.” She’d put air quotes around the word mortal.

  “You’re the first person to say that.” He’d managed fairly well for all these centuries. It was true he’d had limited contact with mortals, but he’d passed through their midst for so long without so much as a raised eyebrow. And she was raising both hers?

  “How is that possible?” She grinned. “I know... I’m just that intelligent.”

  “Possibly.” Or her brother had primed her to believe in a supernatural force looking after her. He couldn’t discount that her brother had believed he’d be coming and had, in fact, sent her from the room in order to welcome, in a word, death. He also couldn’t dismiss that he’d killed her brother. She’d loathe him if she knew.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound convinced.” She took a sip of her milkshake before adding, “Maybe you’ve hung out with idiots. My brother excluded of course.”

  “I don’t typically spend very much time with anyone.”

  “So, I’m special?”

  Of course she was. She was more beautiful, inside and out, and sexier than any other mortal he’d met, but he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t get any further ensnared in her life. “Your brother asked me to look out for you.”

  “Sort of as a last request?”

  “Something like that.”

  “That’s the only reason you’re staying around me?”

  He opened his mouth to agree, but then snapped it closed. He couldn’t seem to lie to her. Ruin wanted to tell her not just the truth, but all the truth—he wanted to tell her everything. In that way, she was special too. “No. That’s not the only reason.”

  Her smile could only be described as triumphant. “What other reasons?”

  Ruin sipped his milkshake. It was quite good. He’d stuck with more expensive and complicated dining experiences in the past. It might be time to branch out. This would be his year of living dangerously. Not that anything was truly dangerous for an immortal. Living... differently. “How is your milkshake?”

  She sighed. “That has to be the most transparent subject change in the entire history of guys dodging questions.” She gave him a stern look. “However, I will allow it, and say that my shake is awesome.” Folding her arms and placing them on the table, she leaned forward. “So, are you just my guardian angel or do you help other people too?”

  They were back to this. “I help a lot of... people.”

  “How?”

  “How?”

  “Are you like a superhero? Do you have superpowers?”

  Some might consider stopping time and calling items onto this plane superpowers, but it felt like bragging to mention them, and he didn’t want her to have that much information just yet. He had to consider the ramifications. Their food arrived giving him extra time to think about what he wanted to say. “I’m there at the right time and place for others to be there at the right time and place.”

  “So, you know the future?”

  He snorted. If he’d known the future, he’d have done a whole lot of things differently. “No, my father does though.”

  “Oh. Your father.” She gave him a significant look.

  Ruin frowned. It seemed wrong to let her continue thinking that he was speaking of a deity. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Then, what is it?” she asked as she popped a French fry into her mouth. Then, she closed her eyes and moaned. “This place is the best greasy spoon.”

  “Greasy spoon?” He eyed his food with misgivings. How much grease had they used?

  “No, it’s just another term for a diner. Don’t get sidetracked. If it’s not what I think, what is it?”

  This was the perfect opportunity to say he wasn’t a holy messenger, but… “It’s just not what you think.”

  Phoebe narrowed her eyes and ate another fry. “I swear—finding out your secrets is going to take ripping out your fingernails one-by-one.”

  “I won’t allow you to do that.” If she even could... it was still disgusting. He had to draw the line somewhere.

  “I was being metaphorical.”

  “Oh.” He looked down at his food. It looked far less appetizing.

  “I know. It was the wrong time for that metaphor. Try the hamburger. I swear, you’ll want to kiss me afterwards.” Her cheeks flamed pink and she shook her head. “That was just a thing you say... not like a... prediction.”

  It definitely wasn’t a prediction. He wanted to kiss her all the time. It was more like a state of being. He wouldn’t kiss her, though. Again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “So, did you do what I suggested for Valentine’s Day?” Lia asked the morning after that miserable, awful, lame holiday.

  “Yes. His eyes should have lit on fire when he saw me in that smoking hot dress and I used that perfume you loaned me.”

  “And he took you out and it was the best Valentine’s Day ever?” Her voice trailed off skeptically at the obvious disappointment on Phoebe’s face.

  “He asked why I was so dressed up when he’d thought we were having pizza and watching a movie.”

  Lia shook her head. “Did he bring you flowers? Anything?”

  She shrugged. What could she say? It wasn’t necessarily a bad night. Though Ruin had been keeping his distance from her lately. He always kept at least a couch cushion of space between them. “He brought the pizza.”

  Her coworker slapped a hand to her head.

  “He did look really uncomfortable the whole night... if that helps.” It’d helped her. It wasn’t enough to make watching an action flick in a tight black dress worthwhile, but it was something.

  “Uncomfortable?”

  “He kept clearing his throat and getting up to go get a breath of fresh air. So, he also might have been allergic to the perfume, but I don’t think so.”

  “Well that’s something.”

  “I think so. Maybe he doesn’t get things like Valentine’s Day. I told you he’s been living a fairly sheltered life.”

  “You said he’s with a... religious order? Are you sure he’s allowed to…” She fluttered her hands around.

  “Date?”

  Lia tipped her head to the side, considering that. “Sure, okay, we’ll go with date. I was going to say something far more crude, but you gotta start somewhere.”

  “I think so. There was the kiss.”

  “But you kissed him, you said.”

  Which now made her want to scream. If only she’d never kissed him because now Phoebe knew what it was like. If she hadn’t kissed him, would it have happened? Probably not if the last few weeks were any indication.

  “I did.” She spun in her office chair. “Maybe I should just quit while I’m ahead. I swear last night’s skirt was so short I should have been charged with indecent exposure when I opened the door. Though he did keep staring at my legs.”

  “Like... wit
h lust?”

  “And he was concerned I was cold. He offered to get me a blanket.”

  Lia slapped her head again.

  “I know. I know. I give up. Operation Seduce Ruin is a huge flop.”

  “With a name like Ruin…”

  She held her hands out. “You’d think, right? No. I give up. It feels wrong to keep going after him when he’d rather go stand out in fifty-degree weather on my porch every twenty minutes than give in and have his wicked way with me.”

  Lia pursed her lips. “Every twenty minutes?”

  Phoebe snorted. “For all the good it did me. I kept expecting the ghost of my grandma to show up and tell me to cover myself. She used to tell me only harlots wore black nylons.”

  “Were you wearing black nylons?”

  “Fishnet stockings actually.”

  Lia groaned. “My boyfriend would have been weeping at my feet and wondering what I wanted.”

  Picking up a pencil from her desk, Phoebe twirled it around her fingers. “He knew my brother so I think he sees himself as betraying Phillip if we’re anything more than friends.”

  “Do you like being friends with him?”

  “Yes, but I thought being more would be sorta perfect. Maybe it was stupid. I think he’s only sticking around long enough to help me get through losing my brother. Then it’ll be sayonara, Phoebe, and hello someone else in need of saving.”

  “He’s got a bit of a savior complex, huh?”

  “Yup. You could say that.” She tossed the pencil down. “I’m just going to quit. Last night was embarrassing. I threw myself at him and he wasn’t interested enough to break whatever personal code of his that is holding him back.”

  “I’m sorry. You gave it your best shot.”

  “Yes I did.” Tonight, maybe she’d tell him not to come around very often for a while. Being just friends when you were hoping for more was painful. He probably wouldn’t even come around tonight. He’d probably stay away for a week or two. That seemed to be his MO.