Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

by Rachelle Mills

  Well, he makes it sound like Nathaniel is the son of Satan. Wonder what that makes me.

  “He’s only here until his flight leaves tomorrow.” I check my phone and see three missed texts from Dan. If I don’t text him soon, he’s going to start calling, or worse, he’ll call Zeke.

  “He’s dangerous.”

  “I know that.” I shoot off a quick text to let him know I’m fine. “I’m not taking chances, honestly.”

  “I worry…”

  “Not now, Doc. I’m still pissed at you.”

  “You’re getting better at hiding it.” He gives me a rueful look and picks up his briefcase. “Will you call me when you’re not so angry?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I can work with that.” Doc smiles softly and escorts me out of the room and back to my car.

  The creeper in the basement stayed away, and it makes me uneasy. He should have attacked Doc, but he didn’t. I can’t help but think back to that night I found out he was lying and the look in his eyes. It reminded me of the look Silas gets when he’s doing something bad.

  Could the ghost have stayed away from Doc because he was more scared of Doc than of me? And if that’s the case, should I be more careful around Doc than I am even of Nathaniel?

  The questions rattle around in my head all the way home.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sleep eludes me the rest of the day. I sit in my favorite spot in the garden and start to draw. The dream from last night won’t leave me alone. I let it take over instead of focusing on Doc or Nathaniel. I need to unwind and let my mind wander where it would.

  For the next several hours, I complete images of Matilde, of her in the kitchen, of her standing over the crib with a small smile on her face. I also draw the baby sleeping in his crib, as well as one of him in portrait style. I remember every single thing about him, and when I finally finish, even I’m amazed at the likeness to not only the little boy, but his mother.

  We couldn’t find anything to remind Matilde of who she was because the fire destroyed everything that night, but maybe this will work. Maybe seeing images of herself and her little boy will be enough. It’s better than nothing, and it’s all I have.

  Yawning, I stretch and get up. My hands are cramping. Funny how I never notice that until after I’m done. While I’m drawing, my fingers are like the river, flowing and never-ending. It’s something that has always struck me as odd, but most artists are like that. At least the ones I’ve paid attention to.

  Zeke is in his office, per usual, looking stressed. “Still haven’t found the shipment?”

  “Oh, we found it, but another village that’s in desperate straits captured it. I can’t very well take it from them. I’m organizing a new shipment instead.”

  “That’s nice of you.” I flop down on the couch. “I think I might have an in with the ghost.”

  “Really?” Zeke stops staring at his computer screen and turns his attention to me. “What did you come up with?”

  I flip open my sketchpad and show him the drawings I did earlier in the garden. “I’m hoping these will spark some kind of memory in her.”

  “These are beautiful, ma petite.” He stands to take a closer look at the sketches. “I still say you should have majored in art.”

  “Eh, it’s something I’m already good at. I’m hoping by getting a degree in psychology, it’ll help me with the ghosts and dealing with the people in your business if I should have to. Being able to read people is always a bonus.”

  Zeke smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Something’s bothering him, but he’s not going to tell me. I’m guessing it has to do with Nathaniel. It’s not anything he’s said or done; it’s more of a feeling. The more time I spend with Zeke, the closer we become and the more in tune we are with each other. Even with my mom, I never shared this kind of connection. I’m grateful for it, though.

  “If only I thought you’d take to the boardroom like you do a ghost hunt.” He hands the sketchpad back to me.

  “Yeah…no. Sorry, Papa.”

  This time his smile is genuine, if a little rueful. “Mrs. Jones is preparing an early dinner for you all. She thought you might want to go into your adventure on a full stomach.”

  My stomach growls in response. Mrs. Jones is the best cook ever.

  Zeke laughs. “There’s my girl.”

  Hey, my stomach has a mind and a voice of its own. I can’t control it.

  “Are Mary and Eric up yet?”

  “Last I checked, no. Nathaniel left about an hour before you woke up. He wanted to go back to his hotel, and I had a driver take him.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” We’d had a long talk about Nathaniel, and he didn’t think to tell me he’d already left?

  He doesn’t quite meet my eyes, which means Nathaniel was probably asked to leave. Zeke wouldn’t want him near me if he could help it.

  “Papa.”

  “I’m not apologizing.” His stark blue eyes are lit with fire and determination. “He’s lying to us. I don’t know how, but he’s managing it. I don’t want him near you until I can figure out what he’s up to.”

  “We talked about this.”

  “You talked. I never agreed.” His tone hardens. “I will keep you safe, ma petite, even if that means protecting you from yourself.”

  Speaking of keeping me safe…

  “Uh, I had a talk with Doc earlier, and I think you need to know about it.”

  “Doc?”

  “Dr. Olivet.”

  “Ah, the Spook Doctor.”

  Doc hates that nickname, but it’s stuck. It’s what everyone calls him, thanks to the internet memes.

  “Come sit down.” I pat the seat beside me, and Zeke’s instantly on alert. “This is gonna take a while.”

  For the next hour, I go over everything I learned about Doc and my mom and even my reaction to learning the truth. Zeke stays quiet through most of it, only asking a question here or there until I’m finished.

  When I’m done, we sit there in silence. As the minutes tick by and still no response from my father, alarms start to go off. I’m scary when I’m angry, but Zeke is downright terrifying. His silence is a surefire tell. He’s pissed.

  “He knew who you were all along?”

  Oh, yeah, my dad is mad.

  “He thought he was protecting me.”

  “I would never harm a hair on your head.”

  “I know that, Papa, but he could only go by what Claire told him. To him, you were the biggest threat to me.”

  “All that time you spent in foster care when you could have been here with me, safe. Everything that happened to you, Eli, your sister, and Daniel could have been prevented if he’d only said something.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  He growls. Literally growls. “How else do you see it?”

  “Before I met Dan, I didn’t know how to love people or to let them love me. Foster care doesn’t teach you that. You get shuffled from home to home with mostly apathetic people who only see you as a monthly check. Don’t get me wrong, there are good homes out there. I was in a few, but I always wrecked them because I was afraid. Afraid they’d reject me. Then there were the bad ones. Those stick with you. You never get past it. Those homes shape you. They teach you to hit first and ask questions later just to survive.”

  “Sweetheart…”

  “No.” I hold up my hand to stop him. “I need you to listen. You need to really understand this, Papa.”

  He nods, and I continue.

  “Dan was the first person who never gave up on me, no matter how hard I pushed him away. He showed me it was possible to love someone, and he showed me I was worth letting someone love me. Then there’s Mary. She taught me what family was all about. Her and her mom. They took me in and loved me for me, even knowing I could see ghosts, and those things could follow me home. They didn’t care. They loved me anyway and became my family.”

  I push up off the couch
and start to pace, trying to find the words I need. It’s not easy confessing all this. I may not trust Doc, but at the same time, I want Zeke to understand that if he’d come into my life sooner, we might be sitting at a far different outcome than we are today.

  “The things I suffered at the hands of Mrs. Olsen, Jonas, and all the ghost girls trying to murder me made me stronger, not because of the experience itself, but because I had people to fight for, people who mattered to me, people I mattered to. They gave me something to live for.”

  “I know that, ma petite.”

  “Do you, though? Had Doc told me about you, then Dan and I wouldn’t have gotten as close as we did. I would never have moved into the Crosses’. Love would have been a foreign concept to me. You would have tried, but I wouldn’t have been ready to let you love me or to let myself love you. And I would have had no one who mattered enough for me to fight tooth and nail for. I would have died, Papa. I might not even have taken Deleriel out with me either. He could be out there now, terrorizing and feeding off little kids. I wouldn’t change anything that happened to me. Those things made me the person I am, gave me something to fight for, and in the end, saved my life. That’s how I look at it.”

  He says nothing for several moments, simply staring at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, as his face is as blank as an empty sheet of drawing paper.

  Finally, he gets up and hugs me so tight I can’t breathe. “You are an exceptional young woman, Emma Rose Mathilda Hathaway Crane.”

  He very rarely uses the name my mother gave me, even if he allowed it to be put on my birth certificate. He hates her for taking me from him, but he’s stopped hating on her in front of me, at least. She’s the reason I’m standing here. If she hadn’t come to me after I smashed my soul, I might be dead now. He knows that, and it’s put him in her debt, something he despises, but is grateful for nonetheless.

  “Thank you,” I whisper and hug him back.

  “Yo, Hathaway!”

  “Eric’s up.” I laugh and pull away from Zeke. “Which means Mary’s up, and we need to eat before we head over to the Duchaines’.”

  “Want me to come with you?” Zeke asks.

  “No, you don’t have a protection tattoo against Miss Piggy.”

  “Protection tattoo?”

  “Silas gave it to me earlier.”

  Zeke’s nostrils flare. “That demon needs to keep his distance.”

  “He’s only protecting me, same as you.”

  Zeke’s lips thin, but he can’t argue with that.

  “Hathaway, where you at, girl?”

  “Coming!” I call. “Come on, Papa, let’s go eat. I’m sure Mrs. Jones will appreciate an early evening.”

  With that, Zeke follows me into the kitchen. I’m still not sure what he’s going to say to Doc when he sees him, but I hope I got through enough that he doesn’t put a hit out on the man.

  We’ll see.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The drive back to the Duchaines’ later that evening is subdued. Eric and Mary are both worried it’s too much for me. The headache worried them both, but I’m still sure it was just a stress headache. I’m not about to do anything to cause my death if I can help it, which means the first hint that the headache is something more, I’ll be the first person to volunteer myself to go to the emergency room.

  I told them about Doc over dinner. Eric agrees with Zeke, and Mary is on the cautious side, more of a Dan reaction, as I call it. A wait and see kind of thing. I still don’t know how I feel about the situation. On one side, he lied to me yet again, and on the other, he’s done nothing but help me.

  But there’s something there, something that creeps me out. I can’t shake the memory of that night and how he’d looked at me. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I can’t let myself fully trust him.

  I may never.

  The Scooby Gang is parked in the driveway, along with a black convertible. Nathaniel is sitting in the driver’s seat talking on his phone. When he sees us pull up, he says something then hangs up. A small smile is tossed our way, and Mary glares. She doesn’t trust my brother any more than I trust Doc.

  It’s the old, beat-up Ford Mustang parked in front of the house that has my attention. I pull in behind it, curious. It’s not the kind of car you’d typically see in this neighborhood. This is a middle-class neighborhood where everyone drives sedans and mini-vans.

  Two guys and a girl pile out of the Mustang as soon as I shut off the engine of my car. They all look alike, so I’m assuming they’re family, with their dirty blond hair and brown eyes. None of them is older than twenty-five, and the girl looks to be about sixteen. It makes my heart clench for a minute, thinking of Ava, Eli, and Caleb.

  Pushing aside those depression-inducing thoughts, I get out of the car and go to meet them. “One of you guys Cass?”

  “Me.” The tallest of the guys steps forward. He towers over my five-foot, three-inch frame. “You Mattie Hathaway?”

  “No one calls me that anymore. I’m Emma Crane.”

  His eyes narrow. Crane is a well-known name here in the south. “Any relation to Ezekiel Crane?”

  “He’s my dad.”

  The other two start muttering, and he shoots them a look that says shut it. “We didn’t know that.”

  “Who my dad is doesn’t change the fact we have a ghost inside who’s trying to murder the little girl who lives here. I want it gone and will do what I can, with or without your help.”

  “Caleb vouched for you. Said you were good people. He never mentioned you were a Crane.”

  “I didn’t know I was a Crane until about a year ago. I grew up in foster care.”

  “Huh,” the girl huffs.

  “Look, if this is a problem for you, I get it, but before you bounce, can you at least tell me if you found a way to get rid of the ghost?”

  “We were gonna wing it.” He gives me a mischievous grin, reminding me so much of Eli, my heart cracks a little.

  “Winging it almost got us all killed yesterday,” Nathaniel says, coming to stand beside me.

  “Cass Willow, this is my brother, Nathaniel Buchard.”

  A slow hiss escapes Cass. “A Crane and a Dubois. What is Caleb getting us into here?”

  “Yes, yes, we’re all very bad people.” Nathaniel flicks his hand. “Doesn’t change the fact we need to work together to help the people who live here.”

  “Why would you want to help?” Cass asks.

  “Because she does. I don’t really care what happens here one way or another, but I’m not about to let my sister go and get herself killed just because she has a misguided sense of responsibility and a need to help people.”

  Well, I wasn’t expecting that to come out of my brother’s mouth.

  “I am who I am, Emma.” He gives me a small, tight smile. “I wasn’t raised to care about anyone outside of my family. These people don’t matter to me, but you do.”

  Mary’s outraged gasp more than sums up all our feelings.

  “Okay, now that we’ve had our Dr. Phil moment, can we get on with this?” Eric drawls. “We all got class on Monday, and I don’t want to spend all day tomorrow here.”

  “We still have the Scooby Gang’s cameras to deal with.” I nod toward the van. I’m guessing the guys are inside, having beaten us here to make sure their equipment is running properly.

  “Taken care of, cher.” Cass flashes me a grin. “Robert is going to send out a little EMP bomb that’ll fry their equipment.”

  “Won’t that fry the electronics in our cars too, though?” Mary moves closer, trying to get a look at what Robert is carrying.

  “Naw, cher. We’ll let it off inside, and it has a maximum range of a few feet. Our cars are safe.”

  “I’m Caryle, Cass’s cousin, and this is my brother Robert.” Caryle sticks her hand out, and I shake it automatically. Seems some of my grandmother’s subtle lessons on manners are working. “Never worked with the enemy before.”

  “I’m n
ot the enemy.”

  “That has yet to be seen.” Robert finally speaks up. His voice is rough and deeper. It sounds more like it should be coming out of the mouth of someone much older.

  Doc pulls up, cutting off whatever we’re about to say. He gets out and gives us his best curious expression. “Doc, come meet the hunters Caleb sent us.” I motion him over.

  “Who this be, cher?”

  “Dr. Lawrence Olivet.”

  “You know the Spook Doctor?” Caryle sounds impressed.

  “Don’t call him that,” I whisper. “He hates it.”

  They all three nod then greet him when I introduce everyone.

  “Well, seems we have a full house.” Doc’s gaze skirts to Nathaniel and then away. I haven’t had a chance to tell Nathaniel who Doc is yet, but I’m not doing it around all these strangers.

  “You guys gonna hang out there on the sidewalk all night?” Ethan calls from the front porch. Eric perks up at the sound of his voice, and Mary gets a knowing smile on her face. I shake my head at her, and her smile wilts. I don’t want her to embarrass him. It’s hard enough dealing with the feelings he’s having without her adding to it.

  “I didn’t think they’d be here this early,” Doc muses as we file up the steps and into the house.

  “Wade wants answers. If I were in his shoes, I’d be here early too.” Too bad he’s not going to get his answers tonight.

  Wade is waiting in the living room where all the computer monitors are set up. Like I expected, he wants answers. It’s clear in the sharpness of his stare.

  “Fancy.” Caryle whistles.

  “Who are all these people?” Wade asks suspiciously.

  “Colleagues of mine,” Doc answers and sets his briefcase down on the table. “Is that a problem?”

  “Of course not.” Wade is such a suck-up when it comes to Doc.

  “With Seth out of commission, I needed backup.” Doc turns around, his gaze sweeping over us. “This has gotten very dangerous.”

  “How’s your assistant?” Ethan asks, the only one of the Scooby Gang who seems to have good manners.