Chloe’s right. I’m not capable of rational thought right now. I need to go where I can think without interruption. I decide to head for the mountain church that Alex showed me on our first outing. No one will bother me up there.
It’s late afternoon, and the day is perfect for a drive and a hike. The only hiccup is that I have trouble finding the turnoff without Alex’s guidance. I have to double back twice on the Blue Ridge Parkway before I find the small, open spot among the trees that marks the road to the church. The hike seems easier this time, probably because I know where I’m going and can pace myself better. I use the extra energy for swearing and ranting at Zeus and Lachesis for their scheming and for the impossible situation they’ve created.
When I get to the church, I spend the better part of an hour wandering through the cemetery, reading all the tombstones. Tommy Andrews remains the only name I clearly remember, but I feel a kinship with everyone buried here. They’re all here by my hand, after all, so it’s comforting to see that they ended up in such a picturesque final resting spot. Many aren’t as fortunate.
After I’ve burned off the worst of my anger, I enter the church and sit down in a pew toward the front. The sun has temporarily gone behind the clouds, and it is dark and cool inside. The darkness matches my mood and I let it and the stillness blanket me. My thoughts gradually slow down, my breathing evens out, and my thinking becomes more objective.
Lacey isn’t my main problem. I’ve been working with her without liking her for centuries. I can keep going. Alex is my more immediate problem. I want to believe that Chloe is right and Alex will be happier with me than without me. But is it not fairer to let him live out his last days with his family and without the drama that comes with knowing me? Probably. But I can’t ignore how happy he makes me, either. I’ve always made a show of preferring to be alone, but being with Alex reminds me that I don’t want to be alone forever. Even if this feeling can only last a few weeks and even if there’s going to be hurt at the end of it, I still want it. I want him.
Decision made, I close my eyes and let myself relax for the first time in days. I don’t know how long I sit there, drifting and almost meditating, before the sounds of crunching leaves and snapping twigs from outside break my trance. Standing, I unfasten my sword pendant from around my neck. I nick the barely healed scab on my palm and rub the blade in the blood. My sword extends to its full length and I hold it up, ready to strike.
If it’s a bear or a mountain cat, I’ll only fight it if I can’t get past it any other way. That’s the funny thing about being the Death Fate—I don’t like killing anything that doesn’t absolutely have to die. Strangely, I don’t worry about it being another person. After all, who else would come up here, much less at this late hour? I’m surprised, then, when the silhouette of a man darkens the doorway. The faint light shines behind him so I can’t see his face, but a quick inventory of his lean build and the way he slumps against the doorframe in exhaustion reveals that it’s Alex. I lay my sword on a pew and jog up the aisle to meet him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
When I get close enough to see his face, I can tell he shouldn’t be up here. The hike up the hill physically cost him. His skin is pale and a light sheen of clammy sweat covers his face, despite the chill of early evening.
“I stopped by your house to see if you were okay. Chloe told me you were upset and that you’d gone to cool off. I took a guess that you’d come up here. When I saw your car in the lane, I knew I was right.”
“Still, you shouldn’t have hiked all the way up here. You should have waited for me down below.”
“Yeah, it’s not a good day,” he says. That’s an understatement. Not only is he pale and clammy, his labored breathing scares me. “I didn’t think I was this bad off until I was halfway up. Then it was either keep going or turn back. I kept going.”
“Idiot,” I say, shaking my head at his stupidity.
“Come on, sit down,” I say, propping him up against me and helping him to the nearest pew. I sit down next to him and rest a hand on his shoulder, ready to catch him should he pass out. Slowly, his color comes back and his breathing slows, so I withdraw my hand.
“Are you in big trouble?” he finally asks.
I sigh and slump back against the pew. “Not as much as I thought I’d be. I’m not being punished for telling you about myself, and I’m not in trouble for defending you against the Keres. Zeus didn’t like any of it and he let me know it, but he’s letting it go because of extenuating circumstances.”
“Like the fact that I’m dying.”
“That and the fact I like you and I haven’t liked anyone in over two thousand years. Zeus seems to think it’s a good experience for me.”
I debate telling him of Lacey’s trickery, but I decide against it. Chloe is right. There is honesty and then there is over-sharing. Alex doesn’t need to know why he likes me, only that he does. To tell him that he was fated for me will only confuse things further and give him a burden he doesn’t need to bear. I can bear it alone. I don’t want him to feel obligated to me. He should remain free to make whatever choices he can with the time he has left. I might tell him the truth someday, but today isn’t the day.
“So you don’t have to memory flush me? When I got home last night, I was afraid you’d do it after all.”
“No. Unless you want me to, and I think Zeus is hoping you will.”
“I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept expecting you to slip through the window and flush my head. I couldn’t stand the idea of waking up and not knowing you. So, no, I don’t want you to do it. Zeus’ll just have to be disappointed.”
“Then I won’t. But if you change your mind, if knowing me gets to be too much, the option is always open,” I say, half hoping he’ll take me up on it.
“I understand, but I’ll pass. I’ve got a tumor the size of a peach in my head. I don’t need you rummaging around in there, too.”
I nod, and we slip into silence. Alex leans back against the pew and closes his eyes for a few minutes. I let him be while he gathers what little strength he has left.
“So you like me, huh?” he asks after a while, showing me a wicked, sidelong grin.
“I thought that was obvious after yesterday. I didn’t let the Keres take you, after all,” I say, trying to match his joking tone.
“True,” he says. He turns in the pew to face me. The grin disappears, replaced by a serious look. “But I want to hear you say it.”
I inhale. This is it. The point of no return. If I admit my feelings, I can no longer avoid the tsunami of grief that will break over my head in a few short weeks. There’ll be no going back, no returning to my cocoon of bitchiness and indifference. I will be opening myself up to pain like I’ve never known. Even the end of my relationship with Ares, bitter as it was, cannot compare with the finality of death. But if I do this, there might also be joy that makes the pain worthwhile. The humans find it to be so, at least. I let out my breath and step off the edge.
“I like you, Alex. I really do like you.”
I bow my head in defeat. I’ve fought so hard to keep my feelings from overtaking common sense, and yet here I am. I’m happy and sad, frustrated and relieved. And terrified because I know how this story ends. There will be no happy ending, no fairy-tale romance. Just death, carried out by my own hand, and endless separation. A single tear tracks down my cheek, and I curse my weakness.
Alex places his hand under my chin and lifts my face so that I have no choice but to look at him. “I like you, too. And not just because you’re a badass.”
I choke out a laugh.
He picks up my hand, which is resting on my thigh, and brings it to his lips. Planting a kiss on the back of my hand, he turns it over and kisses the well of my palm, folding my fingers closed over it.
“You can keep that,” he says.
I sigh and try not to embarrass myself by tearing up further, but the tenderness of the ges
ture leaves me no choice. Tears well up and spill over. Alex catches one and wipes it away with his thumb.
“You should be happy, not sad. I’m happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” he says.
Alex releases my hand and puts his arm around me, gently tugging me down until I’m resting my head on his shoulder. It’s comforting to just rest here, to let someone else share my exhaustion and confusion. The irony of the dying boy supporting the immortal goddess isn’t lost on me, and I’m humbled.
After a few minutes, he brushes a kiss across my hair and gently pushes me back so we face each other again.
“I have something for you,” he says.
“Besides the kiss?” I ask, showing him my still-clenched fist.
“Besides that,” he says.
He reaches into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small jewelry box, but he doesn’t hand it to me. He keeps it in his lap for the moment.
“I did a little Googling last night. I wanted to learn more about you.”
“And did you?”
“Yep. I learned a lot.”
“Probably nothing good,” I mutter, knowing that he probably learned more than I’m comfortable with, much of it likely wrong.
“Oh, it was quite informative. And entertaining. Those paintings and sculptures of you as an old crone are a hoot. Of course, I’d rather hear it all from you, someday, but for now, I know enough.”
He hands the box to me.
“Open it,” he says when I take it but simply stare at it.
I crack the lid and gasp when I see the necklace resting on the velvet. It’s a gold chain with a scissors charm dangling from it. The scissors aren’t as ornate as my work shears, but the handles on the charm have delicate filigree work curling and swirling along them.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Here,” he says, taking the box from me and pulling the necklace out. He leans in close to me and, sliding his hands behind my head, fastens the necklace around my neck. As he pulls back, he kisses me gently on the cheek.
“Thank you,” I say, fingering the small charm that now hangs between my collarbones. It’s the perfect complement to my sword pendant.
“Now, if you accept this, there is one condition,” Alex says with that wicked grin again. “And since you’re wearing it, I take that as acceptance.”
“Uh-oh. That wasn’t fair, you know,” I say.
“Never claimed to play fair,” he says. “You have to promise me something.”
“If I can,” I cautiously say.
The smile fades, and seriousness takes its place. “Will you see that I’m buried up here?” he asks.
That stops me. Of all the things he could ask, that’s the least expected. “I can try, I guess, but where does your family want you buried?”
“Next to my mother in the Methodist churchyard. But I’d rather be up here. It’s peaceful. And meaningful,” he adds as he leans over and kisses my cheek.
“There aren’t any recent graves up here, and the church is abandoned. I doubt there’s any way to get permission.”
He leans back in the pew and raises an eyebrow at me. “Who said anything about permission?” he asks. “Let my family conduct the service and bury me in the churchyard. Then you find a way to get me up here. Everyone will be happy.”
“You do realize you’re asking me to essentially rob your grave and bring you up here, don’t you?”
“You mean you can’t do it? I thought a goddess would have her ways.”
“Oh, I didn’t say I couldn’t do it. Just be sure you want me to. Won’t it bother you to have your father and sister visiting an empty grave?”
“It’s what I want. What does it matter where my family mourns? Only my body will be in the hole in the ground. There’s no difference between them visiting an empty grave and visiting a grave with an empty body in it. The part of me that is me, that will appreciate their thoughts of me, will be somewhere else, at least according to a very reliable source,” he says, poking my thigh.
I think for a moment. He’s sure he wants this; I can see it on his face. He knows what he’s asking and what he is risking if his family ever learns the truth.
“Okay, then. After your regular funeral, I’ll get you moved up here. I promise.”
He leans his forehead down and rests it against mine. “Thank you,” he says.
We sit like that for a few moments until I raise my head and kiss him. I’m surprised at my boldness, and I think he is, too. He eagerly kisses me back, and both of us abandon ourselves to the moment.
His arms come around me and pull me closer; I shift on the pew so that I can do the same. This kiss is more intense than our first. It’s as though, having asked and received permission with the first kiss, we are now free to fully explore. His hands roam over my back, and he brings one hand up to cup the base of my skull and hold me close to him. I feel his tongue against my lips, and I open my mouth against his. He lets out a little moan against my mouth, and I sigh with pleasure.
I lose myself completely in Alex. My job is forgotten, as is his impending death. There is only this moment, too soon to fade. We kiss each other fiercely, as though trying to force time to stop with our urgency. It’s nonsense, of course, and when the moment finally ends, I rest my cheek against his and am content to just breathe in and out with him.
“I changed my mind,” he says against my cheek.
“About what?”
“I don’t like you.”
I pull back, confused and stung by his words. A replay of Ares’ cruelty flashes through my mind.
“I love you,” he says.
I’m stunned. For a moment, I just gawp at him. “Oh, Alex,” I finally say, shaking my head. If it’s possible for a heart to swell with love and shatter in pain at the same time, mine does just that.
“I know it’s not convenient and I know it sucks for you because we have no time, but there it is. You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to. I’ll understand,” he says.
“It doesn’t suck, Alex.”
He hugs me close to him. In the warmth of his embrace, I’m forced to amend my statement. “Well, it does kind of suck,” I say against his shirt, and I feel his chest rumble with a chuckle.
“Yeah, it does. I’m in love with death.”
“And I’m in love with a mortal with a short shelf life,” I answer, tears tracking down my cheeks.
Releasing me, he pushes me away from him, keeping his hands wrapped tight around my arms. He studies my face, taking in my tears and the shaky smile I give him.
“Say it again,” he demands in a husky voice that doesn’t sound like the Alex I know. His voice is serious, devoid of all the teasing that is usually there.
“I’m in love with you, Alex,” I say.
This time, it’s his turn to bow his head, hiding his emotions from me. “Thank you,” he finally says. “I’d always hoped to hear a woman say that to me before I died, and now I have. I can die a happy man.”
“You’ve never—”I start, but I falter. There’s no polite way to ask this question.
“No. I’ve never been in love before, much less had anyone other than family say they loved me.”
“That makes two of us,” I say. “Well, I was in love once, but he certainly never said it back.”
He chuckles. “This is really pretty sad when you think about it. To be as old as we are. Ancient, in your case.” I playfully try to smack him, but he ducks out of my reach, laughing.
“And have never been loved outside of our families before,” he continues. “Now we’re in love and it can’t last. I’m sure there’s some karmic god somewhere just laughing his ass off over this one.”
I wince. He doesn’t know how close to the truth he is; only it’s not a god who’s laughing. It’s a goddess, Lacey, who is having her fun watching us come together only to be torn apart. She’s getting her revenge, and all she has to do is sit back and watch me unravel. I’
m trying not to give her the satisfaction, but every hour I spend with Alex is bringing me closer to the despair she wants me to experience. Shit. I really am screwed.
My phone buzzes at my hip, and I sigh. “I have to go home, Alex,” I say. His face falls. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“I know you do. Death won’t wait forever, will it?”
“Sadly, no,” I say, meaning more than just the people I have to kill tonight. It won’t wait for us, either. Our time together is already limited, and my damn job just makes everything more difficult.
Something has to give, and I can only see one thing that is optional. School. I’ve already been, and Alex doesn’t really need to go anymore. A brainstorm hits me and I turn to him, excited by my new plan.
“Are you going to keep going to school?” I ask. Seeing what the trip up the mountain did to him, I can’t imagine that sitting in school and doing homework every night is good for him.
“Dad wants to pull me out. There are only a few weeks left in the year, and I can do the work from home and still pass. He thinks school is too taxing for me, but I don’t want to just spend all my days in bed, either. It feels like giving up. I’m not ready to give up yet.”
“What if you could spend your days with me, instead? If you quit going to school, I’ll quit, too. It’ll free up more time for me to spend with you. I can quit trying to fit you in around school and my job, and just fit you in around my job. It’s not ideal, but we’d have a lot more time together and you wouldn’t have to spend all day in bed, either.”
“Won’t it raise suspicion about your family when you disappear from school?” he asks.
“Probably not. I miss so much school already that the teachers all wonder about me. Themis can come up with some believable excuse to get me out of the last few weeks.”
“Will she do it?”
I think about how she owes me for her part in pushing me toward Alex. “Probably.”
“Okay, then. I’ll let my dad pull me out.”
I nod and stand up. That’s at least one problem solved. There are about a thousand more, but I feel better knowing that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other without school in the way. “I’ve got to get you home,” I say.
“You go on. I can make it down.”
“Are you nuts? It’s almost dark, and you’re ill. Don’t argue with me,” I say when I see him open his mouth to protest. “I’m not taking chances with you.”
“It’s not like I can kill myself, is it?”
“Well, no, but fate doesn’t cover other things like the broken legs, ribs, or arms you might get from falling down a mountain. You need your strength, not to be camped out in the hospital in traction. Besides, what would be the point of us dropping out of school if you end up in the hospital? Come on,” I say, extending a hand to him.
He gets up and waits while I retrieve and shrink my sword. I hang the pendant around my neck so that it rests next to his shears. We walk hand in hand out of the church and to the edge of the clearing. When we get to the head of the trail that leads back to our cars, I look over at Alex. Just walking across the clearing has made him ill. He’s already white and panting.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” I say to him. “I’m going to carry you down the mountain. And you’re going to like it.”
He snorts. “I think I’m a bit heavy for you.”
“Trust me. You’re not.”
Picking him up in my arms, I carry him the way a groom carries a bride over the threshold after the wedding. I would be able to carry him easily even if he was well, but his illness has made him thin and highly portable. I’m dismayed that I can feel almost every bone poking me through his clothes. The long pants and shirts of winter have camouflaged how much weight he’s already lost.
“God, this is embarrassing,” he says.
“Don’t think of it that way,” I say as I pick my way carefully down the trail. “Think of it as a privilege that few have ever had. Being carried by a woman is one thing, but being carried by a goddess is something special. We don’t carry just anyone.”
“You’re not even breathing hard,” he complains. “Could you at least act like you’re struggling? Make me feel a little manlier?”
“I could, but I’d probably trip and injure us both. Just relax, Alex. Let me do the work and don’t complain.”
He gives up and rests his head against my shoulder.
“That’s better,” I say.
I carry him in silence the rest of the way down the mountain, putting him down when I reach our cars. “Can you drive?” I ask him.
“Yeah, that’s no trouble. I’m not seeing double or anything.”
“Okay. I’ll follow you home,” I say.
The drive is uneventful, but slow. He clearly shouldn’t be driving. I can tell he’s driving super slow to keep from making mistakes. It’s like following an old man with a revoked license or a drunk who doesn’t want the attention of cops.
He finally turns into his driveway. I pull in behind him and crank down my window. Getting out, he comes to my window. “Thanks, Atropos,” he says.
I smile. “I think you’re the first human to call me by my real name. I like it.”
He leans in and kisses me again, gentler this time.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asks.
“Sure. In fact, I have a plan for tomorrow if you’re feeling well enough. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Uh-oh. Another plan. Will I get to see you beat up on some more bad guys?” he jokes.
“I sincerely hope not. Good night, Alex.”
“Good night, Atropos.”
I watch until he’s inside the house, and then I drive home. When I get there, Chloe is sitting on the sofa, flipping TV channels and munching on popcorn. I hang my coat on the hall rack and flop next to her on the sofa.
“Well?” she asks. “Did you flush him?”
“Nope.”
“Good. You deserve this, Atropos. Even if Lacey started out with bad intentions, I think this is wonderful for you. And for him.”
“Yeah, but it’s gonna hurt like hell when it’s over,” I say.
“And I’ll be right here with a big Band-Aid,” she says. “You know I’ll be here for you. And for him, if the two of you need anything.”
I lean over and hug her. “Thank you.” I lean back and settle into the corner of the sofa. “He called me Atropos tonight.”
“That’s big.”
I nod. “Yeah. I don’t mind going by other names. I understand why we have to do it. But there’s nothing like hearing your real name uttered by someone special. I haven’t heard that since Ares. And Alex is the first human who’s ever uttered my real name without it being a curse word.”
“I know what you mean. I hate being called Chloe or Karen or any of the hundreds of other names I’ve used over the years. Sometimes, I forget who I’m supposed to be.”
“I know. Tonight, I felt, I don’t know. Whole, I guess.”
“It’s a great feeling, isn’t it?”
“Sure is. But I’d better not get used to it.”
“Don’t do that,” Chloe snaps.
“What?”
“Don’t block yourself off from the experience because of how it’s going to end. Just enjoy it and be present with him. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“Thank you, Clotho,” I say, intentionally using her real name. “You’re a good sister.
“I try.”
I push up from the sofa and blow out my breath. “Now I’ve got to go upstairs and apologize to Mom.”
“Don’t worry. She’s pretty calm about the whole thing. I think she’s way more pissed at Lacey and Zeus than at you.”
“Good. Because I need her to get me out of school for the rest of the year.”
Chloe raises her eyebrows. “Good luck with that,” she calls after me as I trudge upstairs.
Broken Fate Page 16