The Third Fate

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The Third Fate Page 9

by Nadja Notariani


  War raged within, his mind screaming that he bond with her, his heart yearning for the twining of their Fates. But Malcolm denied his desires, wrenching his lips from her breast and sealing her wound. She slid down to the floor as he slowly eased his finger from her body, and then he was gone, offering her no explanation, no comfort beyond a final kiss against her forehead.

  Pilar could only stare after him in helpless acquiescence. The tables had been turned, she acknowledged inwardly. No longer did she hold power over the ancient, for she had come under his spell completely. She could no more expose him to the Council than refuse him her blood again - if he came for more. More terrifying than the threat of his drinking her dry was the possibility he would never come to her again.

  Malcolm fled. Upon drinking from Pilar, her thoughts had been laid bare to him. The Druid did not bargain out of malicious greed or hope of gain. She loved him. And now her blood called to him from within his own veins.

  Chapter Nine

  Paige listened mutely when Cael reappeared and showed her around the house. Tea brewed on the gas stove, the ultra-modern kitchen an unexpected treat in the old and remote home.

  “I’ll show ye the master bedroom while we wait for tea,” he informed her, heading up the stairs that led out of the kitchen. “At the end of the hallway ye will come to the other staircase. If ever ye cannot get out one way, try the other.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be able to get out?” Paige asked, forgetting her self-imposed silence.

  Taking her arms in his hands he explained, “Ye doona understand the danger that surrounds ye, and I canna force ye to accept what I say. Until ye complete yer Awakening and become fully vampire there are those in the vampire world that will seek yer life. They willna allow a half-born to walk the earth unchanged. The only way to avoid them is to prevent the Awakening with magic – but it’s too late for that - or to be fully changed before they find ye. This is why Druid half-borns rarely live normal lives.”

  “Why, Cael? Why would they want to kill me? I haven’t done anything to anyone!”

  Tears spilled anew, breaking his heart for her and melting away his frustration with her stubbornness.

  “As an unchanged half-born, lass, ye would possess the ability to reproduce with a human and pass along the vampire traits in yer blood. Vampires willna allow that; it jeopardizes our race’s existence in the form that we are now. I doona agree with their methods, Paige, but I do understand their logic. They want to keep the race pure.”

  “So what’s different if I become a vampire? I’d still be the same person!”

  Bewilderment furrowed her brow.

  “Aye, lass, ye will. But ye will be changed, too. Ye will want a vampire for yer mate and willna reproduce with a mortal.”

  “Then why do I exist?”

  Her pointed question had to be answered, yet there were no easy answers.

  “There are exceptions to the rule,” Cael sighed heavily. “I canna explain them all. Yer mother obviously had something in her blood that called to yer father. It’s possible she was a half-born herself, but didn’t live long enough to be changed. But I doona know that for sure.”

  For the first time since she’d arrived, Paige wore an expression of hope.

  “Then maybe I’m not different from every person in my family. Maybe I’m just like my mother.”

  “It’s a good possibility,” Cael concurred. “But it’s also possible yer mother was a human unlucky enough to be impregnated by a vampire. It’s unlikely, but I have to give ye all the facts.”

  “Oh,” the single syllable slipped from Paige’s lips softly as a blush crept up her fair cheeks. “Could that have happened when we were…together?”

  Cael eased onto the bed’s edge beside her.

  “I canna answer that, lass. I doona think it so, because ye have yet to complete yer Awakening.”

  He pulled her against his side, hoping to comfort, listening for a sign of her feelings on the subject. She changed topics.

  “What’s going to happen if I don’t change?”

  “Ye canna stop it now,” he said, nailing the lid on her last hope of escaping this nightmare she found herself in. “The Awakening has already begun. Now it’s a matter of how quickly it comes upon ye and how well ye transition. The choice to drink is always yours.”

  “Will I die?”

  He raked a hand through his thick, black hair. He didn’t want to tell her everything. He didn’t know if he should. She was frightened enough without heaping more on her.

  “Ye die to live, lass. I doona know how else to explain it.”

  “I have to die?” she asked, wide eyed and trembling.

  “Ye willna die, Paige Kinnell. At least not in the way that ye be thinkin’. Trust me.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” came her honest reply.

  “Ye are bonded to me. I’ll not let anythin’ happen to ye. But it will be a sight easier if ye doona fight me every step of the way.”

  Paige breathed deeply. Trust did not come easy to her. She was beginning to understand the bond issue. Deciding to leave Cael behind even for a few weeks of vacation to think had hurt in a way she’d never experienced before. Needing someone frightened her more than anything else, because they could be ripped away at any moment, leaving nothing but broken pieces to sift through in the aftermath. Paige didn’t know if her heart could endure that again. It seemed she wouldn’t have a choice. She was already in love with this man, this Highland vampire.

  “I think I could use a cup of that tea,” she said, inviting a truce between them.

  Settled on the sofa, Cael turned on the television. He rarely if ever watched, but knew it to be a favorite human pastime. Paige curled against him, seeking comfort, he knew, in the face of extraordinary circumstances.

  Looking up at him she asked, “I’d like to turn on the news. What will happen when they report that you kidnapped me?”

  It was the first she’d thought of that.

  “They willna be reportin’ ye missing, lass,” he answered, forgetting Paige had not been fully aware during his conversation with Anna Kinnell.

  News poured from every channel, devastating pictures filling the screen.

  “Oh my God!” Paige gasped, pulling her legs against her chest.

  Images of the airport terminal flickered across the screen, carnage and fires everywhere. A large airplane had skidded into the terminal, the damage untold, deaths unknown.

  “Aye, lass. It’s why I had to take ye.”

  “You knew this was going to happen?” she asked, incredulity laced in her tone. “Could you have prevented it?”

  Cael, realizing her train of thought, tried to explain.

  “I didna know what would happen exactly. I only saw danger surroundin’ the place.” He paused, searching for the right words to help her understand. “I began dreamin’ of it after I bound ye to myself, lass. I knew it was connected to ye, but not when, or where, or how.”

  “My family!” she cried out, shoving away from him and rising. “You saved me, but my family was going into that terminal!” Pacing the floor in a panicked state Paige turned on him, her green eyes ablaze with anger. “You let them go in there!” she shrieked, raging with emotion. “How could you leave them there to die? I hate you! I hate you!”

  She continued to scream as she pummeled his chest, beating on him until she could raise her arms no more. Overwhelming grief flooded her, and exhaustion took root in her mind, leaving her in a heavy daze of consciousness, aware of nothing but her sense of betrayal.

  Cael absorbed her blows, defeat and despondency consuming him.

  “Ye believe the worst of me? That I would – or could – leave yer family to die, knowing it would hurt ye so?”

  His words slipped through her without form or meaning in her despair, and she fled from the room, scaling the stairs and locking herself in the bedroom. Cael stared after her, stunned.

  Is that what she thinks of me?

  Anger
erupted in his heart. He’d done all he could to ease her transition, to protect her, to love her, and she still jumped at a chance to think the worst of him. Appearing outside the bedroom, Cael turned the handle to discover the door locked. It fueled his ire. Did she think to deny him herself?

  Ye think these locks can keep me from ye?

  “Open the door, lass,” he sounded outside the wooden door.

  “I don’t want to see you,” she shot back. “Leave me alone!”

  “I’m not askin’ ye what ye want, Paige. Open this door.”

  “No!” she hurled her defiance at the door. “You think you can do with people whatever you want? Bringing me here against my will? Choosing who will live and who will die?”

  Cael didn’t need the door, but wrath ruled his actions. He slammed his shoulder into it, splintering the frame. Shards of wood flew through the air as the door gave way under his strength, and Paige gasped, scrambling up to the headboard as Cael strode across the floor.

  “Doona think to lock me out again,” he ground out.

  He grasped her by the arms and covered her mouth with his own. Hunger welled in him, to taste her, possess her, drive away her fears. Punishing kisses locked them together, emotion raging in his passion. When he released her mouth, she gasped anew, pushing him away with her hands. He knew it was a lie.

  Ye canna be false with me, lass. I know ye want me.

  “You are a pompous man,” she said bitterly, turning her head from his gaze. “You think you know too much.”

  “Ah, lass,” he husked. “I can scent yer hunger for me.” He released her arms, and she fled to the far side of the king-sized bed. “Ye willna deny me when I come to ye.”

  He rose above the bed, his gaze harsh and commanding. Paige peered back at him, her surprise evident that he left the bed, and Cael understood that she thought he was going to take her right then. Her thoughts also revealed her disappointment, but he said nothing. He’d not coerce her even knowing she wanted him to. This was a decision she had to make. Until she called to him, he’d not touch her again. There would be no mistaking her submission.

  To keep his word, he needed to feed.

  *

  Whirling chaos swept into the Council hall whipping papers into the air. Bodies scurried to contain the mess and prepare for what was causing it all.

  The Fates.

  The flustered secretary looked over her desk into the eyes of three children, neatly dressed and mannerly yet frightening at the same time.

  “We are here to see the Council,” the eldest girl stated firmly. “Summon them at once.”

  Even a lowly secretary knew an impertinent child when she saw one, so she scolded lightly, “The Council members are not all in at the moment, Miss. You’ll have to take a seat while I contact them.”

  The hard gaze of the child softened suddenly.

  “Of course, Miss Shaw…that is your name, Alma Shaw, correct?”

  The secretary shuddered, wishing she could disappear beneath the desk or go anywhere out of the girl’s path.

  “Yes, that’s correct,” the young woman replied cautiously.

  “Well, Miss Shaw, let us hope the Council members can be found and assembled. I’d hate to lose my temper.”

  Alma Shaw picked up the intercom phone and prayed this was soon to be over. The girl gave her an odd feeling, and the sooner she got these children into the Council’s hands, the better. Her hands shook as three, then four rings went unanswered.

  Silently, the double doors to the Council’s private meeting chamber swung open.

  “Come in, Charity,” a deep voice beckoned from within.

  Charity stomped in, her icy-blue eyes blazing hotly. Jael and Harry flanked her, the three golden heads angelic in appearance. Malcolm was not deceived by appearances. He stood behind his chair in welcome, the other Council members remaining seated as the three children boldly neared.

  “To what do we owe the honor of a visit from the Fates?”

  “One of your vampires has intentionally altered Fate! I want him punished.”

  “Which of ours has committed this act?” Elinor questioned from her seat.

  “Cael of Clan Maccinnis,” Jael informed. “I get to choose the game for him,” she continued proudly.

  “Maccinnis?” Malcolm repeated in disbelief. “The vampire keeps a low profile. How has he interfered?”

  Charity hopped up onto the long table and teetered along its edge, her arms stretched outward for balance. She continued to the end in silence, turning around with a smile.

  “I made it the whole way, Harry. Now it’s your turn.”

  The Council members sat unmoving. Childish ways were expected when dealing with the Fates; there was no getting around it. Malcolm held in the sigh that threatened, reasoning that it would not help matters to anger them.

  “How has he interfered?” Charity mocked, repeating Malcolm’s words. “How has he not interfered? That is more like it! He bit a woman he believed to be a mortal, and I know this because it was by my enchantment the vampire half-born was cloaked. And then he bonded himself to her. He began an Awakening that was never to have happened. Her aunt bargained her first Fate - to me - on the condition that if ever her vampire Awakening occurred, she would be mine. Cael Maccinnis stepped in again earlier today, changing my plans by kidnapping her from the airport.”

  “She was to die in the tragedy of this evening?” Rhys attempted to clarify.

  “I didn’t say that,” Charity smiled impishly. “He made me angry, so I threw the airplane. It’s all his fault.”

  Her pouting face was pinched and pitiful.

  “Then how did he ruin anything for you, child? Why cannot you simply carry out your plan in another place and time?” Elinor questioned, her flawless features unmoving in the face of the little Fate.

  Charity gaped at her as if she were stupid, prompting Harry to chime in as he balanced his way in front of them.

  “That’s not what was supposed to happen. Paige was supposed to…”

  “That’s enough, Harry,” Charity hushed her brother.

  “So you harmed innocent people because you were angered at not getting your own way?” Elinor probed, hoping to induce self-reflection in the small girl.

  “No one died,” Charity said flippantly. “Besides, it’s up to us to decide that anyway. My Father said so.”

  The pronouncement was stated with neither malice nor spite. It simply was.

  “I’m still not understanding why you’re here, Charity,” Elinor stated.

  “Cael Maccinnis must be punished for changing Fate. That’s not allowed. He has opened the half-born to the Third Fate without permission.”

  “And what do you propose to do about it?” Malcolm inquired.

  The hairs on his neck were standing on end. In this moment he might lose his only link to finding the daughter he’d never known.

  “I’m going to take the half-born from Cael Maccinnis,” Charity announced as if taking a piece in a game of checkers. “Paige Kinnell belongs to me.”

  “Who bargained for her Second Fate?” Rhys asked sharply.

  “Her aunt. What’s that matter?” the girl answered, tracing her fingertip across the table’s trim.

  Jael and Harry followed behind her, tracing the exact path.

  “If the girl did not bargain for her own Second Fate then you cannot hold her responsible. The Third Fate was unknowingly invoked,” Rhys tried to reason with the children.

  “The Third Fate is special. It’s not for just anyone,” she sighed. “Cael Maccinnis didn’t ask.”

  “Why would he have?” Rhys questioned suspiciously.

  “Because I showed him what might happen to her,” Jael chimed in, forgetting the game for a moment.

  The littlest child beamed with pride for playing her part.

  “Jael…” Charity warned.

  “Are you implying that a vampire intentionally invoked the Third Fate because you showed him the future – one pos
sible future?” Elinor inquired accusingly.

  “We cannot interfere,” Conrad interrupted. “Cael Maccinnis seduced a mortal – or what he thought to be a mortal – and bonded himself to an unchanged half-born! This is outrageous! The Council forbids such actions!”

  “Enough!” Malcolm roared. “There is something I must add.” All heads turned to him, questions unspoken but plainly seen in the eyes of his fellow Council members. “The half-born is my descendent, blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh.”

  None of the Council’s members moved, but Malcolm saw Elinor’s eyes widen. Knowing he risked severe censure and even estrangement from the Council members he’d worked with for centuries upon centuries, he continued.

  “I loved Agnes Kinnell, a mortal woman, passionately and had every intention of changing her, but she disappeared without a trace before I had the chance. Her sister, Anna, contacted me almost a year later and told me she had died giving birth to my child, and that the child had died also. A few weeks ago when we felt the ripple in the psychic link between vampires, I knew it to be my child. I have no idea where she is or what is going on, for as quickly as I connected with her, she was gone. Cloaked. Enchanted.”

  Charity giggled, drawing attention once again to herself and her siblings.

  “Malcolm! This is most serious. You know it is forbidden to risk impregnating a mortal!” Conrad forever adhered to the rules, and Malcolm expected nothing different from his longtime associate.

  “Agnes Kinnell was no ordinary woman,” Charity snorted, happy to show the stuffy vampires up with her knowledge. “She and her twin Anna are the daughters of Catrionia.”

  “The Druid priestess?” Malcolm breathed, dropping to his knee at the stunning revelation. “Then…then why would she have died from carrying my child?”

  “She didn’t,” Rhys spoke in a tired voice.

 

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