To Fight A Fate

by Jane Cousins

  “Maybe, or perhaps someone else is. It’s just… some of the clothes are a little… eclectic, I can’t help but wonder what Fate has in store.”

  Quinn shuddered slightly. She was renown for her rigid scheduling and dislike of surprises. “Just promise me you’ll be safe. I realise you’ve embarked on this whole seize the day, life is for living existence. But that doesn’t mean common sense shouldn’t still play a major part in your decision making.”

  Riya grinned, smoothing her heavy waterfall of raven black hair back over one shoulder. “Once I’m a mother, common sense will be my co-pilot, until that happens, no promises.”

  Quinn huffed out an exasperated sigh. “It’s times like these I miss the old workaholic Riya. The one who didn’t have time to explore the Turkish Bazaar, or sit in a café in a Piazza in Florence and drink coffee and stalk little old ladies carrying gorgeous handbags.”

  “You know the surprising thing, my sales have never been better, even though I’ve cut my opening hours dramatically. And when I do sit down to make something, I’m never lacking for inspiration. I think I lost my love of creating something out of nothing for a while there. It had become more about ambition and duty. I’d kind of forgotten how much I love bringing together the power, the possibilities, the choices.”

  “You should see your eyes right now, they’re sparkling. I must admit you do seem happier.”

  Riya laughed. “And all it took was the reality of impending motherhood and the knowledge that some day, eventually, I would be responsible for someone else’s life… and realising I’d failed to live up to my own potential as yet. Who knew motherhood could be such a motivator?”

  “I don’t know.” Quinn smiled. “Gaia is still attending self-defence classes in her ninth month. Between you and me though, I think she’s hoping to kick start the baby’s arrival sooner, rather than later. Every time I look around lately she’s power-walking up and down the beach, ordering curry takeaway, or doing hundreds of star jumps. Of course, she’s looked like she’s been ready to pop since her fifth month.”

  “While Hadleigh still barely looks pregnant. That must grind on Gaia.”

  “No, funnily, she thinks it’s a good sign, that it means Hadleigh isn’t due anytime soon.”

  Riya stood up and began collecting the empty cups, saucers and teapot. “Don’t worry about your wedding dress, okay. It’s going to be stunning.”

  Quinn blinked at the sudden change in topic. Riya could be spooky like that. Quinn’s gaze shifting to the boutique door as it opened and her gorgeous meld mate sauntered in. They’d unofficially tied the knot a few weeks ago. Their wedding scheduled in December intended to be a celebration, a party, a relaxed way to introduce the two sides of the family. Didn’t mean that organising it was any less stressful though.

  Matias’s dark toffee eyes glinted with heat and promise as they settled upon Quinn. “You ready to go? We have a wine tasting scheduled for this afternoon at your Uncle’s place.”

  “Yes.” Quinn found herself standing and moving towards him quickly without conscious thought. Luxuriating in the feel of his arms wrapping around her waist and bringing her in tight for a hug. Hmm, perhaps if they were quick they could head home… no, too far, there was always the apartment above the bar Matias owned with his brother.

  Matias grinned, his tanned skin glowing, the heat in his eyes ramping up as if he read Quinn’s mind.

  “Phew.” Riya waved a hand trying to cool her suddenly bright pink cheeks. A meld pair in mating heat radiated a lot of pheromones. Getting caught in the backlash of their lust made her feel suddenly squirmy and uncomfortable.

  “Sorry.” Quinn looked anything but, since she still hadn’t taken her eyes off of Matias.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Just skedaddle. I’ll call you when I’m ready for the first fitting.” Riya watched, amused, as her cousin and meld mate hurriedly left. It was all too obvious where they were headed and what they were going to do.

  Must be nice, to have someone like that in your life. Someone who fit seamlessly into your world. Made it brighter. Made it better. Plus, the hot, hot, mind melting meld sex.

  It was days like these when Riya kind of wished that her future partner, the father of her unborn child, would appear to sweep her off her feet. Whisper sweet nothings into her ear. Make her laugh. Her perfect partner in all ways.

  He’d be funny and smart. Seek out her opinion and value it. Respect her business acumen and be impressed with what she’d managed to accomplish here at the boutique. He’d be practical but with a dash of whimsy. Adventurous, into trying out new things, new places. He’d be open-minded. Non-judgemental. Sensitive. Good with people, children and animals.

  Riya shuddered, throwing off the last of the effects of being in such close proximity to a newly melded couple. Yikes. That was heady stuff. Making her all fanciful and wishful. Fate would take care of presenting her perfect mate when the time was ready. She just needed to have faith.

  The man of her dreams would be walking through that door any day now. A smile on his face. A welcoming hand outstretched. Yeah, any day. Riya stared at the front door that remained stubbornly closed… okay, so maybe tomorrow.

  Chapter Two

  Marcus strode along the raised wooden sidewalk, his boots thumping loudly. The smell of salt water tainted the air. Seagulls wheeled over head. The urgency of his errand had lengthened his stride. His temper was on a short fuse. He had a hundred things he should be doing right now, would rather be doing. But they were in crisis mode. A terrifying creature had been released in Maat Tower. One creating havoc and mayhem. It would not be soothed. It could not be slayed.

  Marcus assessed his surroundings with a critical eye. Taking in the high-end shops that wouldn’t look out of place on 5th Avenue or on the Champs Elysees. And the people, most of all the people interested Marcus. Several he could easily tell were Enforcer trained, not just because of the swords they wore strapped to their bodies but from the way they moved, sure, alert.

  The intriguing thing about the Southern Sanctuary inhabitants was that potentially everyone here was deadly. Who knew what magic that little old lady exiting the Hair Salon was packing. And that young woman there, with the long strawberry blonde hair back in a plait. She looked harmless enough, but you could never tell with magic in the mix.

  That both intrigued and frustrated him. Marcus liked information. He liked knowing everyone’s capabilities. Their strengths, their weaknesses. But magic? Until the first punch was thrown, who knew what your opponent was capable of.

  Scoping out the shop numbers, he realised the address wasn’t far now. Lengthening his stride further, eager to complete this errand and get back to Atlanta.

  Marcus was a Warrior to his core, he never let his guard down. His instincts alerting him that someone was coming up behind him fast. Turning, he stopped, noting a child, a girl, he was lousy with ages, he was guessing maybe four or five years old, was running fast across the covered walkway, dodging people, her chest heaving. Little legs encased in red and white striped leggings were pumping hard. Automatically Marcus checked to see if anyone or anything was chasing her, no.

  It was just some kid, probably running after her mother or heading for freedom after slipping away from the babysitter. Not his concern, yet there was something about her, something that kept Marcus frozen in place and when she neared, it was instinctive for him to bend his knees slightly as she launched herself into his arms.

  What the hell? Marcus could understand if the kid had dived into Drum’s arms, children loved the extra-wide Elite Warrior and his no nonsense death stare, but kids tended to avoid Marcus on the whole. There was something too aloof, too focused about him that made kids give him a wide berth.

  Yet here he was, Marcus could feel the kid’s heart beating a mile a minute as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She was a cute little thing, with the striped leggings, matching red t-shirt and bright white sneakers with laces that had lollipops on them. Midnight black hair
squirted out the sides of her head, thanks to two high pigtails. Her eyes were blue, no green, the damn things shimmered, seeming to change colour. And she had a wide cupid bow shaped mouth that was currently curved upwards in a smile as she contemplated him from only a few inches away.

  “You okay? Is something wrong? Are you lost?” Marcus looked around for help, but there was no one near enough for him to ask if they knew who the child belonged to.

  “Is that the best you could do?” The kid released a soft, impatient sigh, reaching out to straighten the collar of Marcus’s black shirt, before attempting to brush the hair out of his eyes. Issuing a small sound of frustration, she licked her hand and once more tried to smooth his hair back out of the way. “Did you even brush your hair this morning?”

  Had he? What, not the point, what the hell was he doing standing here holding a lost child and letting her spread bodily fluids over him? He’d read over a dozen medical reports about how kids were like germ magnets. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to drop her, though he did grab hold of her hand to stop her grooming attempts. This kid needed a dog, stat. And seriously, how tiny was her hand in his, it looked doll like. “Kid, do you need help?”

  The little girl positively beamed at him. Marcus had to work surprisingly hard at not smiling back at her. This close he could see three faint freckles dotting her tiny turned up nose. She really was gorgeous. He pitied her poor parents trying to keep up with this bundle of mischief.

  “So grumpy.” The kid shook off his hold, stabbing a not so gentle finger into the groove at the side of Marcus’s mouth and pushing upwards. “Go on, you can do it.”

  What else could Marcus do but laugh, the kid was fearless and determined.

  “Such a pretty smile.” She patted his cheek lightly in encouragement, green-blue eyes sparkling. “You should do it more often.”

  “Um, yeah, I suppose so.” Honestly, where was this kid’s parents? She could get into mega trouble running around on her lonesome, throwing herself at strangers.

  The kid wriggled slightly, and even Marcus with his limited interactions with children understood that was the universal signal to put her down. He did so, gently, carefully. Straightening up, he looked around once more for anyone who looked like they might have misplaced a child, nope, no one. Damn, he didn’t need to get side-tracked but he probably should drop her off at the police station located back in the Town Square.

  “How about you and I-” He glanced down, she had disappeared. Marcus looked around. Where the hell had she gone? The kid was a regular mini-Houdini.

  The only possible option was if she’d slipped down a narrow opening between two nearby shops. That direction led towards the beach, no doubt the kid was heading back to her parents. Phew, one less thing he had to deal with. Funny kid though, sweet, cute as a button.

  Shaking his head, Marcus turned and continued stalking along the covered walkway. Ignoring the decorative wrought iron columns and the large number of hanging pot plants, this time of year full of dripping greenery but little in the way of flowers.

  Marcus’s attention was on matching the door numbers to the address he had in his hand. And… he was here… Here? Seriously? He’d find the dreaded monster slayer in this overpriced snooty boutique? He’d say Hadleigh was playing a joke on him but she’d lost her sense of humour about the same time her belly button had popped out.

  Well, maybe it came down to magic. Who ever was in there must be deadly, capable of using major mojo to bring down their enemies. If Hadleigh referred to them as the monster slayer, then they had to have impressive skills. Which meant no doubt they were cool, arrogant and lethal. So Marcus would need to be respectful, polite, but play to their arrogance, present them with a challenge. Yeah, it was always nice to have a game plan.

  * * *

  Riya was scrutinising the nearest rack of clothes, scowling. The one and only mannequin in the large front picture window had been naked now for two days. It needed an outfit. The right outfit. One that would speak to the destiny of a passer-by and tempt them in. But she just wasn’t feeling it. Which was kind of disturbing, both as a business owner and as a Fate Weaver.

  Riya couldn’t remember the last time the mannequin had gone unclothed for two hours, let alone two whole days. Something was going on, but what? Tapping her foot in time with the soft Latin music, she took a deep breath, she would just make a choice. It didn’t matter. She would just… damn it, she couldn’t do it. Unconsciously heaving a relieved sigh when the door chime sounded, announcing a customer. Good, she could put off trying to force the issue of dressing the mannequin.

  Turning, the smile of welcome abruptly dropped from Riya’s face. She recognised the man who’d walked into her exclusive boutique immediately. Damn, she’d spent the last few years effectively avoiding him at all the family gatherings. And here he was, oh-so-casually sauntering into her boutique. Those assessing dark blue eyes scoping out the place in an instant. Judging. Probably mentally tallying profit margins and property values

  “Hello, if it isn’t not-so-Charming.”

  “You?.... Riya, right?” Marcus’s gaze swept upwards from her peep-toe green shoes, over toned bare legs, to the blue clinging wrap-around long sleeve dress edged with green that clung to her curves. All that waterfall black hair was held back in a fancy knot, secured in place by two gleaming green chopsticks. Beneath the blunt longish fringe, green shot hazel eyes sparkled, surrounded by lush long eyelashes. That wide cupid bow mouth of hers was currently flattened as she surveyed Marcus, clearly unimpressed.

  “You own this place?” Marcus surveyed the warm wood floors, the high ceilings, the coffee coloured walls, decorative arches and intricate iron support columns. There were only three racks of clothes to be found in the cavernous space and they were hardly packed with items. In the middle of the room, taking up a lot of space was a low coffee table, surrounded by comfy looking shabby chic wingback chairs and a matching sofa. The place screamed exclusive as soft music played in the background and the smell of lime, gardenia and jasmine infused the air. “You’re the one I was sent here to fetch? You’re the monster slayer? Not possible.”

  “Lovely. I can see you haven’t grown any more endearing or less judgemental since our last encounter.”

  “And I can see you are still overly sensitive. I wasn’t being judgmental the day we met, all I did was point out several very glaring, very practical problems that you would have to deal with in the very near future.”

  Riya tossed her head, scoffing loudly. “And did I ask for your opinions? No. Which does not make me overly sensitive. It makes me normal. No one likes someone barging into their life, sticking their nose into personal and private matters, especially when it is completely and utterly no concern of theirs. Rather like now. Don’t let the door hit you on your arrogant ass on the way out.”

  Marcus grimaced inwardly. Damn, what had happened to his plan of being polite? It was just this woman was so darn distracting. Every time he got close to Riya he seemed to lose all common sense and his mouth went on auto-pilot, determined to rile her up. “I didn’t come here to argue. Or dwell on past history that is best forgotten. Hadleigh sent me… we have a situation… she says you’re the only one who can fix it.”

  “A situation? And you and the other jolly giants can’t deal with this… situation?”

  Marcus wasn’t used to admitting to failure. It didn’t sit well with him that not only had Maat’s Elite been incapable of resolving the problem, but that they’d been forced to go to an outsider and request their help. Riya should be flattered that he was here. He was offering her the chance to do something meaningful. “Look, don’t you want to do more with your life than sew on buttons and sell over-priced clothes to a bunch of women who don’t even really need them?”

  “You… you are an insufferable… rude… prejudiced… jerk. Just because I don’t run around chopping off heads with a battle-axe or shoot lightning out my eyes, you think what I do here is insignificant and unimpor
tant.” Green hazel eyes sparkled with anger, while hot colour flooded Riya’s cheeks.

  Marcus glanced around the large space. “I didn’t say that. Obviously you have built up a successful business here. Main street location. Excellent square footage. Exclusive one of a kind stock. Clearly made with high quality materials. I can’t comment on the design though, I’m no slave to fashion.”

  Riya huffed out a soft, derisive sound as she surveyed Marcus in his black tactical pants, ass kicker boots and long sleeved fitted black top. “Yes, I can tell at a glance you rarely stray from the G-I Joe combat section of the department store.”

  Marcus’s left eyebrow lifted for a brief second. “We’ve sunk to personal insults?”

  “You started it.” Riya defended, resting her hands on her hips. “You practically radiate contempt for me and my powers. It’s a shock really that you are even here asking for my help.”

  “I’m not asking for your help.”

  “Hold on. You walk in here, asking me if I’m the monster slayer. Telling me you a have a situation - your word, not mine – that only I can deal with. And that’s not asking for my help?”

  Marcus tossed his head to get the hair out of his eyes. “Hadleigh has indicated that your expertise would be best suited to dealing with the… situation. I’m giving you the opportunity to give back… to do something important with your life.”

  He was so arrogant, and self-righteous, it was all Riya could do not to walk over and punch him. But she was afraid she’d hurt her hand on all that hard, lean muscle. “How is my dealing with your problem significant in the scheme of things? Are lives at stake?”

  Marcus clenched his jaw. “Theoretically, yes. If someone doesn’t deal with this situation soon, it will seriously begin to hamper our ability to focus on new and developing supernatural threats. Not to mention how vital the TV show is in regards to hiding our real agenda. This monster could effectively destroy Para-Exterminators.”