Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

by Rachelle Mills

  “You’re not the only one with a bleeding heart. I feel bad for these people. I don’t turn them away, but there’s a reasonable limit to what I can accomplish. What makes you think I can unite them?”

  “You are such a lying liar!” she said, because apparently she was twelve. Still, she blustered on. “You are totally caught up in your own personal baggage. This is because you couldn’t turn your family, isn’t it?”

  He stepped back. Away from her. “What are you talking about? Why the hell would you try to throw that in my face? But sure, we can go there if you want to go there. What if I told you the only reason you even want to start a shadow government is because it would be adventurous? It would make things less of a bore because you’re so wounded after you spent your life fulfilling other people’s expectations.”

  Emma left her chair and strode toward him, face hot, but he continued before she could retaliate. “Yeah, feels terrible, doesn’t it? You’re making a work issue a personal issue, and that’s not fucking fair.”

  She stopped in her tracks, chin tilted high. She was too angry to stop clinging to what she thought was right. At a loss for words, something awful had tightened in her chest that made her breathing shallow.

  “It’s a matter of logistics,” he added. “There are thousands of supernats who live here. What am I supposed to do, declare myself King of the Supernats and tell them to get their asses in gear or I’ll murder them? Because that’s how some communities handle it. People know that, so they come here. So many of these people are young, and they’re more reckless than older generations. They were smart enough to hide. These people need to figure it out for themselves. It’s what I had to do.”

  Well, that was some serious bullshit. “Yeah? Sounds like you had a tidy inheritance from your grandfather and then a best friend to help you through the transition. Doesn’t exactly sound like you started off all on your own and pulled yourself up by your bootstraps.”

  “You know what I mean,” he ground out. “I protected myself.”

  “Not everyone is as smart and rational as you!” she cried. “What about that fairy case with the blood bank? You know the risks with that. She and her boyfriend obviously have no one looking out for them, and that is not their goddamn fault.”

  Henry dragged his hands down his face. “There are ways to deal with it at a smaller scale. Now that we know about her, we can get other fairies to help her learn to retract her wings.”

  “What if those ways fail? We could have a system in place to avoid the whole issue instead. There are vampires with mind control and witches with powerful spells and freaking fairies with myriad talents. How the hell can you say they can’t work together to fix things? Abernathy had a point about a council.”

  He laughed, but it had a hard edge to it. “Then you do it.”

  “Are you kidding? ‘Oh, hello supernats! Yes, I’ve known about you for all of five minutes, but I’m a twenty-eight-year-old mortal, so I know how to fix all of the things for you because I’m your savior.’ That’ll go over real well.”

  “But that’s exactly what you’re trying to do to me. You’re talking to me like you know better, but you refuse to listen to me. I’m over a hundred and fifty years old. Trust me when I say there is nothing to be done.”

  Emma wanted to scream. “Are you seriously going to quote Waiting for Godot at me right now?”

  “That wasn’t on purpose, I—”

  “Of course it is. Because you’re so educated. But guess what, I took theater in college too, so don’t pull that crap in the middle of an argument.” She dragged her hand through her hair. “This. This is why they say lawyers shouldn’t date.”

  “What’s why?”

  “We’ve always got to be right.”

  His gaze was cold, but he didn’t respond.

  Emma was perilously close to tears, and she hated herself for it. After sucking in a deep breath to stave them off, she said, “I can’t be with you if you’re going to hold your age over me. And maybe you are right sometimes or even most of the time. Hell, maybe you’re even right about this, but you’re not just telling me I’m wrong. You’re telling me you don’t respect me enough to try and that I’m naive for wanting to.”

  The fight faded out of them both like a crumpled sheet falling from a clothesline.

  His features softened. “Emma, that’s not fair. You know that I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

  Her lips trembled, but at least she didn’t cry.

  ***

  There was a ringing in Henry’s ears as silence swelled between them. They found themselves on another precipice, ready to fall—not into hot kisses and laughter, but into something that terrified him. He didn’t know how things had spiraled so badly or how to fix it when they felt so differently.

  At first, it seemed like they could slip seamlessly between work discussions and their personal life. But this Abernathy issue brought out the worst in both of them. If they stayed together, what the hell would happen when they disagreed about something inane but important—like whose turn it was to do the dishes?

  He finally found the courage to ask, “What does this mean?”

  She looked exhausted; tears were welling up in her eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t want to end things with you.” If nothing else, he wanted to make that abundantly clear.

  Her head jerked back in surprise. “What? Are you crazy? Of course not.”

  “Then why did you say lawyers shouldn’t date?”

  “Because it’s a thing people say, and it does make this hard, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.”

  “Oh. Well, good.” Henry felt the tension in his body dissipate. “I was picking up a distinct ‘does this mean we’re breaking up?’ vibe in the room.”

  To his infinite relief, Emma laughed and shook her head. Too soon, it gave way to melancholy again. “But working together just got more complicated.”

  He pursed his lips a moment. “I don’t think we should talk about this anymore tonight. I don’t know about you, but I need some time to process.”

  Emma nodded in agreement. “We need to take a step back.” She grasped his hands to squeeze them. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Henry leaned down to kiss her. It was soft, and slow. The words Why can’t you see it my way? were strung taut between them.

  BANG BANG BANG.

  Frantic pounding on the front door shattered it all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Henry? Emma? You in there? It’s Wendell. I need to talk to you now.”

  BANG BANG BANG.

  Henry’s jaw ticked. Unbelievable. “No, I’m too tired for this. He can come back tomorrow.”

  Emma closed her eyes and sighed. “We can’t ignore this, Henry.”

  “No, I am done, and it’s late. He’s your client. If you want to go talk to him, you can have a meeting outside.”

  More pounding on the door. “Henry, please. Answer the goddamn door!”

  Opening her eyes, she leveled him with a steady gaze. “Did you notice that he shouted your name first? He’s not my client only. He trusts you.”

  Before he could argue with her, she shouted, “Sorry, Wendell! We’ll be right there!”

  He threw his hand out in frustration. “Seriously? Just going to steamroll me like that?”

  “He wouldn’t be here after hours if it weren’t an emergency. If you don’t want to be a part of it, you can leave.” She left the room to answer the door.

  Damn it. He couldn’t not go with her. Gritting his teeth, he followed her out in time to see her open the door for their client. Henry opened his mouth to greet the werewolf, but Wendell did not look well. He was agitated and pacing on the sidewalk. His clothes were rumpled and dusty as if he’d been rolling in dirt. He was still in human form, but this was the worst Henry had ever seen him—haggard and pale.

  “Wendell, what’s wrong?” Without quite realizing what he was doing, Henry steppe
d past Emma and put a hand on the man’s shoulder to stop him from pacing. He ushered him inside.

  The wolf turned his head, and Henry saw that his eyes were pale green with agitation. He was a hair-trigger away from turning.

  “I don’t know how much time I have. I think someone followed me here,” Wendell hissed and shook off Henry’s hand from his shoulder.

  “What happened?” Emma asked, eyes wide with concern. “Let’s talk in the conference room.”

  Henry opened the door to the room and allowed Wendell and Emma to pass through first. When they were all seated, he and Emma stared at Wendell as they waited for him to speak. He didn’t smell alcohol on Wendell’s breath, so that was at least one plus. The complete and utter distress was a little worrisome, though.

  Wendell sat. Emma and Henry waited. And continued to wait. The only noise in the office was the buzz of the air conditioner.

  Finally, “It’s only been a few days, but this is driving me crazy. My pack doesn’t know, but I think they know something is off.” He tugged at his gray hair. “Oh God, what am I going to do?”

  “Wendell. What are you talking about?” Emma asked patiently.

  “I think I killed someone while I was drunk.”

  More silence. Henry swallowed. Rationally, he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time before something like this happened, yet he’d ignored it like a fool. Henry kept his face impassive and glanced at Emma. Her lips parted in surprise as she met his gaze. The werewolf raked his hands over his face and groaned.

  “It’s only a matter of time before someone finds the body. I tried looking for it first thing this morning and then most of the day, but I was so drunk when it happened. I couldn’t find him.”

  “Okay, well, don’t go looking anymore. That can only end badly,” Henry advised.

  “This is why you were so edgy this morning. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Emma rested her hand against her lips, her fingers trembling.

  Not seeming to hear either of them, Wendell said, “I just want to do something with my life instead of ruining others’. What am I going to do? It was supposed to be different this time.” He looked so lost.

  Emma took Wendell’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s good you told us. I’m sorry you’re going through this.” With a brief look at Henry, she added, “He got picked up for trespassing on Friday.”

  “No one contacted you about the missing man, right?” Henry asked. When Wendell nodded his head in confirmation, he said, “Why don’t you start by telling us what you remember? Anything at all.”

  Wendell sighed. “I was running on so much adrenaline and alcohol. I’m not sure. I just remember I was hiking—”

  “I’m sorry, Wendell, but I need to stop you,” she interrupted. At Wendell’s startled look, she explained, “Honestly, the less information we know the better. You haven’t been charged with anything. And the more you tell us at this point will limit the arguments we can ethically present if something does come up. The important thing to remember is that nothing has happened yet.”

  Henry saw her point but didn’t agree with it. The more information they had, the more they knew what they were dealing with. He was about to tell her as much, but there was another panicked knock at the front door. What the hell was going on? Swear to God, whoever it was would have hell to pay. He glanced at Emma in question, and she waved him on.

  “Sorry about that. I’ll be back in a moment,” he said.

  Henry scooted out of his chair and went to the front door. He opened it and frowned when Sal, Salomé, and a young mortal man and woman walked in looking wide-eyed and fascinated. The man wore a flannel shirt and a beanie while the woman wore a flowy striped shirt and black thick-frame glasses. They were both holding up cell phones and snapping pictures of the office.

  Henry held a hand up. “Can you not do that?”

  Their excitement deflated a little.

  “Isn’t this the Calexico house? We wanted to see the studio!” the woman gushed.

  Henry rolled his eyes at Salomé and waited for an explanation.

  She gave him a dark look before saying, “They were wandering around the Barrio taking video and pictures and looking for the band Calexico’s house.”

  “Fucking tourists? Why are they in my office, Salomé?” Henry asked. “I’m in the middle of a meeting with a client.” He pointed at the closed conference room door for emphasis.

  “Was it an antsy werewolf by any chance?” she guessed, shifting her weight from one black-booted foot to the other.

  The mortal woman perked up at that comment. She sidled up to Henry and tilted her phone’s screen so he had a clear view. “We saw a wolf too! Just a little while ago. It was crazy. You gotta check out this video. I’m gonna send it to Buzzfeed.”

  The man gazed up at the ceiling, apparently fascinated by the exposed rafters. “Yeah, it’s dope. Watch it.”

  Henry’s shoulders stiffed, but he stared at the small screen as the woman hit play. To his horror, it showed a wolf loping down Church Street, just a couple of blocks away. The lighting was crappy because the sun was gone, but it looked like the wolf was carrying a sack in its mouth. The wolf then disappeared from view behind a house. The camera followed. There was a low, agonized yell. The camera turned the corner just in time to record Wendell naked, panting and on all fours in someone’s empty backyard. The screen went black. The woman looked up at him for a reaction.

  “Wild, huh?”

  Henry looked back up at the two vampires, furious. “This just happened?”

  Salomé put her hands on her hips and straightened her shoulders. “Yeah. We cover this neighborhood, so I had a couple guys patrolling the area starting at sunset. They called me when they saw these two. Sal and I came down immediately to bring them to you.”

  Henry gritted his teeth. “What did you bring them here for? Why haven’t you wiped their memories and their phones already? And why would you tell them this was Calexico’s house?”

  Salomé crossed her arms over her chest, the end of her taut French braid swinging over her shoulder. “It’s one thing for Sal to get a DUI, another if a werewolf is getting videotaped. This is getting bigger, and we both know it. We need to figure out what to do from here.”

  Henry glared at her, but before he could respond, there was another knock at the front door.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Henry muttered and walked to the door. “Now’s not a good time!” he called.

  “Henry, it’s Grant. Let me in!”

  Henry yanked the door open, and his jaw dropped as Grant walked in. He shut the door behind Grant and raised his hands in the universal “what the hell?” gesture. His friend was covered in dirt, and blood had stained his clothes.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Henry demanded by way of greeting.

  His friend gave him a dark look. “Well, hello to you too, champ,” his friend said with the ghost of his usual swagger. “I need to talk to you. Who’re these people?”

  Henry shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Salomé and Sal shared an exasperated look, but he didn’t have time or the attention span for polite introductions.

  “I need your help. This werewolf attacked me on Mount Lemmon. Dude was straight-up unhinged. Took me forever to get back to town.”

  Henry’s stomach tightened as he processed his friend’s words. He needed to get him out of here immediately. To his chagrin, Grant’s deep voice carried into the conference room and drew Wendell and Emma into the reception area as well. Emma took in the scene and frowned.

  “Henry, what are all these people doing here? We need to talk about Wendell.” She jerked her head in the werewolf’s direction.

  What he had not been expecting was for Grant to run and leap over Rick’s desk and stand behind it as it if it were a battle trench. Henry turned to Wendell. The werewolf had completely lost it. He half-yelled and half-whined in surprise. Hair sprouted; his nose lengthened.
Oh, goddamn it. The hipster couple was screaming but still managing to record everything with their phones. Sal and Salomé watched, mouths agape.

  Grant pointed a finger a Wendell and flashed his fangs. “That’s the one, Henry. He’s the one who tried to kill me. You stay away from me, nut job! I only just finished healing. Don’t slice through me again or I will end you, asshole!”

  This was beautiful. Henry turned to Emma and raised his shoulders. “At least this means Wendell didn’t actually murder anyone?”

  Wendell’s howl drowned out Emma’s hollow laugh. Chaos descended.

  ***

  Emma watched helplessly as Wendell turned completely into his wolf form. His clothes fell into a crumpled pile on the floor. He was howling and snapping his teeth. The unknown vampire held up a small metal trashcan menacingly. He seemed to think Wendell wanted to finish the job he’d started; she was betting Wendell thought the vampire wanted revenge and needed to defend himself accordingly. The mortals, of course, had their phones raised to record the whole thing. Sal, ever the tough gangster, cowered near a potted palm.

  Wendell leapt up onto Rick’s desk and growled at the vampire. Could she even try to talk sense into a turned werewolf? Was there any human left in there? Her eyes widened when the stranger raised the trashcan over his head.

  “Don’t do it—” she pleaded but not quickly enough.

  The vampire threw the trashcan right at Wendell’s snout.

  “Are you crazy?” she cried. She turned to Henry. “A little help, please?”

  But before Henry could do anything, Wendell flew off Rick’s desk and tackled the unknown vampire to the ground. Henry and Salomé jumped into the brawl long enough to drag the other vampire away from Wendell. The wolf retreated a few paces but snarled and leaned low toward the ground, as if readying himself to pounce again.

  “Does anyone have any silver?” Henry called to the room at large. “Seriously? Three mortals in the building and nothing?” he cried when no one responded.