I searched everywhere but didn’t find a trace of them. Something was wrong.
There was blood on the floor. I got the cleaning supplies and set to work. I didn’t want Talbot to come back and have to clean it up.
As I scrubbed, questions kept popping into my mind. What had happened? After the blood was cleaned up, I opened the store. I was on edge all day and there was no word from Talbot or Ambrose.
It was nearly midnight when Talbot strolled in.
He didn’t seem that surprised to see me. The real me. “Do you recognize me?” I asked. “Nyx Fortuna.”
“Nyx Fortuna, wanted man,” he said. “I heard.” He studied me closely. “Your eyes are the same shape. And you’re still good-looking. Just different. So this is the real you?”
A tiny part of me relaxed, knowing that Ambrose must be okay or Talbot would not be so calm. “Where’s Ambrose? He’s okay, isn’t he?”
“He’s recovering,” Talbot said, the grin slipping from his face momentarily. “I took him to see an old…friend.”
“What happened?”
“Someone tried to break into the store again, but Dad stopped them. He was injured in the process.”
He was withholding a wealth of information. “But it didn’t look like anything had been touched. No broken windows, no trashed door.”
“Dad foiled his entry,” he said. “He was shot.”
“His?” I picked up on the tiny slip he’d made. “Talbot, what’s going on?” I asked.
“It looks like your prediction finally came true,” he said. “Someone came looking for something last night. Or someone.” His glare made it clear he thought the shot was meant for me. Maybe he didn’t get the memo that I couldn’t be killed.
Gaston had no problem torturing or killing anyone I cared about. My throat worked as I realized how many people I’d put in danger.
“There was blood all over the floor,” I said. “I cleaned it up.”
“Thank you,” he said politely, but the smile, which I now realized had been completely fake, was gone.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?”
He turned away from me, walked over to a shelf, and fussed with a Victorian mourning locket. “If you tell me what the hell you’re doing in Minneapolis. And if you’ve killed anyone lately.”
“Naomi,” I guessed. “She told you what happened to her father.”
“She told me you killed Sawyer.” The calm collected facade slipped for a moment and I saw pain behind his eyes.
“And you believe her?”
He didn’t answer my question. “Is it true? That you’re the son of Fortuna?”
I nodded. “But I didn’t kill Sawyer.”
Talbot cleared his throat. “My dad told me a little bit about your mother,” he finally said. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For treating a son of Fortuna, the only son of the Wyrd family line, like a novice magician,” he said in a low voice. “It’s humiliating how attached to these little symbols I’ve become.” He yanked off the silver ring he always wore and stared at the oak leaf engraving before tossing it on the table.
I slid it back to him. “Put it back on,” I ordered.
“Will you accept my apology?” he asked.
I shrugged. “So you’re proud of your lineage,” I said. “That’s not a crime.”
“Stupidity isn’t a crime, either,” he replied. “But I’m full of that, too.”
“Believe me, I’d rather be from the House of Zeus any day than from the House of murdering, sadistic crones I’m related to.”
He tried to lighten the atmosphere. “Hey, that’s my potential future mother-in-law you’re talking about.”
“So, it’s ironic, isn’t it?” I said as I poured a shot of absinthe for both of us.
“What exactly do you find ironic about your situation?” Talbot said, returning to my original comment.
I cleared my throat. “Just that I’ve been trying to find that damned thread for ages to finally end it.”
“End it? You mean let your aunts kill you?”
“I’ve lived a very long time, Talbot,” I said. “I’ve been ready to die for years. But I can’t. I just have to watch everyone else die.”
He was silent while he absorbed everything I was telling him.
I couldn’t bear the quiet a second longer. “Will Ambrose be okay?”
“Almost certain.” Almost certain made my throat clench up. It was my fault. It was all my fault.
“And now that I have something to live for, it might get taken away. It was sheer coincidence that I even met her.”
“Maybe it wasn’t coincidence,” he said.
“If you tell me it was fate, I may have to punch you,” I warned him.
He scowled. “I don’t believe in fate, despite the existence of your aunts. People do things for a reason.”
“What are you saying? That Elizabeth deliberately set out to meet me? Why?” He didn’t answer, and I feigned a lightness I didn’t feel. “Because of my gorgeous face?”
“I don’t know her motivation,” Talbot said.
“You think it was a setup,” I said.
His expression was answer enough.
“You think she was working with my aunts.”
He shrugged. “Or someone.”
“And you think I’m stupid enough to fall for it?” The growing pit in my stomach told me I had been exactly that stupid.
“How much do you really know about her, Nyx?”
“More than you know about the girl you love,” I said. “And are you saying I want to get caught? I don’t think so.”
He shook his head. “I’m saying maybe you’re tired of running. Not the same thing.”
I frowned. “I’ll never get tired of thwarting them. My very existence is like pebbles in their shoes.”
“Pebbles can get crushed,” he replied.
“You didn’t ask me if I killed Sawyer,” I said.
“Do I need to?” Talbot seemed to think he knew me better than I knew myself. But that couldn’t be true. No one knew me. Not really. Because I wouldn’t let them.
“No,” I told him. “Talbot, I know Naomi hates me right now, but you’ve got to convince her to stay away from Gaston.” Ambrose and I were approximately the same height. Maybe he had been mistaken for me. A bullet wouldn’t kill me, but it would put me out of commission for a day or two.
Then something dawned on me. “You said he. What did he look like?”
“Tall, blond guy,” Talbot continued.
“Gaston,” I said. “He’s trying to take out the entire Wyrd family. He loves to torture and kill anyone I get close to.”
Talbot clenched his fists. “If he touches her, I’ll kill him.” We both knew who he was talking about, but there was nothing I could say.
I changed the subject. “I thought I smelled something off,” I told him. “A necromancer has been in the store.”
“Impossible,” he said. I’d surprised him. “I can count the number of necromancers left on two hands. Your aunts didn’t take kindly to the necromancers who sided with Hecate.”
“Impossible or not,” I said, “someone was here. Someone who smelled of death and the dust of old bones. There’s only one kind of magician who gives off that stench.” Sawyer had been training Gaston in the dark arts, I was sure of it.
“Dad found out something,” Talbot said. “He hesitated, but finally told me. The prophecy says that either you or the Fates must die.”
“One of the Fates already died,” I said. “My mother was a Fate. Only everyone has forgotten her.”
“You haven’t forgotten,” Talbot said softly.
“But I’m not the one trying to kill them,” I said. “At least not right now. Screw the prophecy.”
“You’re afraid to face them,” Talbot accused.
“Afraid?” I repeated. “I’m not afraid. In fact, I’m going to get to the truth right now, starting wit
h Elizabeth.”
I left while his mouth was still hanging open.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Elizabeth wasn’t home and she wasn’t answering her cell, so I headed back to the store. I was half crazy with worry. I had to do something.
“Want to go fishing?” I asked Talbot.
“Fishing? In the middle of the night? Besides, I’m not big on killing things,” he said.
“Not that kind of fishing,” I told him. “I plan on diving into Lake Harriet.”
”Nyx, that lake is full of naiads.”
“I’m aware,” I replied. I hesitated before asking my next question. I didn’t want him to discourage me from going, but I wanted to know what I was up against. “Anything else I need to worry about?”
“Besides hypothermia and naiads? Good lord, isn’t that enough?”
I shook my head. “Something is calling to me. I have to know what’s down there.”
“I’m in,” he said. “I have something you should take with you.” He left and came back a second later with a wet suit.
His eyes turned the silver of moonlight in the rain. He said a couple of words over the suit then handed it back to me.
“It’ll keep you warm enough, but I can’t guarantee it will keep the naiads away.”
“Not much will,” I said. “Thanks, Talbot.”
We took the Caddy and parked a few blocks from the lake.
“There’s something there, I can feel it,” I told him.
A bright moon was reflected on the smooth surface. “Like what? Besides some seriously scary naiads?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
“You’ll freeze to death,” he said.
“I have a badass sorcerer as a best friend,” I said. “I’m sure he can think of something.”
Talbot gave me a playful shove on the shoulder. “Best friend, huh?”
“The best.” I shoved him back.
A dark shadow appeared above the clouds. Was it a flock of migrating birds? The rush of heavy wings sent ice down my spine, and then I heard a harsh sound, something between a caw and human speech. Harpies.
I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, barely able to breathe.
“Run,” I said through numb lips. “Talbot, run now. Head for cover.”
“I’m not leaving you,” he said. The harpies were getting closer.
“For once, could you do what I ask you to do and get the hell out of here?”
I shoved him, hard, and he finally took off, but it was already too late. The lead harpy, her black hair streaming behind her, had gone into a sharp dive, headed straight for Talbot. Swift Wing was the most vicious of the bunch, but her sisters Shadow and Fleet Foot were no walk in the park, either.
He was lost from view in a whirling mass of beating wings and screeching voices.
“Not this time, Swift Wing,” I said. I took out my athame and stabbed at the flurry of wings until they parted. Talbot was alive, but Swift Wing had bloodied him. She was playing with him, like a cat plays with a rat. She grinned when she saw me and raked his cheek with her talons and slashed his chest, just to let me know the game was almost over.
I ran for her and hacked at her leathery wing so she couldn’t fly. The other harpies were gaining on me, their hot breath at my neck. I stabbed Swift Wing in her right eye.
She shrieked with pain and dropped Talbot’s limp body. I made a grab for him and dove into the lake. I hoped the cold water would slow the bleeding.
The remaining harpies were enraged at the death of their sister. They dive-bombed us repeatedly. I stayed underwater until my lungs were bursting and then returned to the surface to gulp air.
The harpies’ cries of mourning were awakening things in the lake I’d rather have sleeping.
“Willow, where are you? I need your help,” I shouted desperately.
Her head broke the surface of the water. “You called, bane of Fate?” I noticed I was no longer son of Fortuna, but the decidedly less friendly bane of Fate.
I didn’t have a lot of options. “Take him somewhere safe,” I said. I thrust Talbot’s unconscious form at her.
She took him from me gently.
“Somewhere he can breathe!” I called after her, but her only response was a quiet splash.
Once Talbot was relatively secure, I turned my attention back to the keening, bloodthirsty harpies, who were cursing me and my descendants in their strange garbled tongue.
I reached for my knife, only to realize I’d left it in Swift Wing’s body, which was lying near the shoreline. I’d have to risk it.
I swam to the shallows and waited. I scooped up a couple of decent-size rocks and waited until Shadow made another dive. She came close enough for me to see the color of her eyes, which were a muddy brown, before I threw the rock right between them. It stunned her and she went into a tailspin. Her sister rushed to assist her and I ran for it.
I managed to free my knife, but not before I felt the tip of Fleet Foot’s claw at my back. I turned and slashed, expecting to wound her slightly, but her entire foot came off. She squawked in pain. She scooped her dazed sister up in her beak and then took to the skies, trailing blood as she flew.
I lay on the cold ground and gasped for air. Talbot? Where was Talbot?
I called Willow’s name, but she never came. I lay back exhausted until I heard a splash. I looked up to see Willow propelling Talbot along the surface of the water.
I waded in to meet them. He was conscious, thankfully, and she’d managed to bandage his wounds.
“Thank you,” I told Willow gravely. “Thank you so much.” I kissed her cheek and she blushed.
“Be well, son of Fortuna,” she said before diving into the lake.
I helped Talbot to shore, and we sat shivering in the moonlight.
“Those were the Fates’ harpies,” he said grimly.
“They were after me.” The silence stretched out until it became unbearable. “Well?” I asked at last.
“Well what?”
“Are we still friends, even though you almost got killed and will have a scar for life?”
He stared at me, his eyes unreadable. “We’re still friends.”
It was more than I deserved. I nodded because my throat was too tight to speak.
* * *
I took him back to his apartment, where I had to explain everything to his dad, who didn’t look in much better shape than Talbot.
“I’m sorry,” I told Ambrose. “I didn’t mean for either of you to get hurt.”
“I know you didn’t,” he replied.
There was a knock on the door and I went to answer it.
“What are you doing here?” Naomi asked. She slapped me before I could get a word out.
I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me. “I probably deserved that.”
“Where’s Talbot?”
“He’s asleep. What are you doing here?” I asked. She made a run for the apartment door, but I blocked her way.
“I could ask you the same thing. I can’t believe you had the nerve to show your face after what you did,” she said. “You murdered my dad.”
“Your mother and aunts murdered my mother.”
“So we’re playing tit for tat now?”
“I didn’t kill Sawyer,” I said. “Gaston did.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t,” I said. “Let him finish off the Fates. He’s already poisoned Deci and killed your dad. Don’t listen to me and you’ll die. I don’t give a fuck about the aunties, but I do care what happens to you.”
The anger in my voice seemed to convince her when nothing else did.
“Nyx, what’s the matter with you?” She sounded like we were best buddies. Like her mother and her sisters hadn’t almost killed my best friend.
“What’s the matter with you?” I threw her words back at her. “How could you?”
“How could I what?” she asked. She flipped one braid over he
r shoulder. The gesture incensed me.
“Quit playing dumb, Fate,” I spit out contemptuously. “How could you let the harpies attack Talbot? My friend. Your boyfriend.”
She gripped my arm so tightly that it hurt. “A harpy attacked Talbot?”
I knocked her hand away. “Harpies. Plural. As if you didn’t know.”
There were tears in her eyes. “I didn’t, I swear. Is he—?”
“Alive? Yes, no thanks to you,” I told her. “What’s a kid like you doing in a family like ours?”
“The aunties aren’t so bad,” she said. “And my mom’s great.”
“So was my mom,” I said.
“I’m sure she was.”
“And they killed her. Their own sister.”
“It was her time,” she said.
“How would you feel?” I asked. “If it were your mother? One day she’s fine, and the next she’s spitting up blood. A week later, she was gone and I was alone.” I realized I was shouting and lowered my voice.
“I would feel awful if something happened to Mom,” she said. “But I would understand that it was meant to be. Being a Fate isn’t a job, it’s a responsibility. There are rules.”
“Don’t kid yourself that they always follow the rules,” I told her. “They mess around in people’s lives all the time.”
“It’s not messing around,” she protested.
I glared at her. “Then what is it?”
“It’s a sacred trust,” she said.
I snorted.
“I want to see him.” Her voice was high and frightened.
“I’m not convinced you didn’t have anything to do with it. You know what they say: Like mother, like daughter.”
She flinched, but met my eyes. “Gaston has the harpies, not the Fates. Deci gave them to him ages ago.”
“Why would she give a psycho like Gaston her deadly little pets?”
She bit her lip, but then told me. “She needed him to find someone, and he wouldn’t do it without a bribe.”
“Me?”
She shook her head. “Someone else. He wasn’t successful, but she let him keep the harpies.”
“Interesting,” I said.
She walked past me into the apartment. Just like a full-fledged Fate.
Ambrose was pacing like a caged wolf, but when he saw my cousin he stomped into the other room. All the good stuff was at Ambrose’s place. A cushy but faded Oriental rug was spread out in front of the sofa, and a silver tray filled with drinks and snacks sat on the coffee table.
Strange Fates Page 20