The Third Fate

by Nadja Notariani

  For the first time, Malcolm thought his friend haggard of face and body. Since vampires did not age he knew his longtime ally carried a heavy burden.

  “Malcolm,” Rhys began, his voice strained, “I learned of this only after it was long past, my friend. I could not bring myself to tell you. Had I known the child lived, I would have.”

  The powerful vampire leader and friend poured out his knowledge to Malcolm and how he came to it, sharing his own secrets.

  “I, too, Malcolm, love a Druid, the high priestess, Enya. For years we’ve remained apart, knowing I could not resist drinking from her.” Rhys laughed low, sitting beside Malcolm. “It never occurred to me that I could cloak her Awakening until she was through it. But our Cael has managed it – he masks the changeling’s presence even now.”

  “Excuse me,” Charity huffed. “Have you all forgotten that I’m owed a Fate?”

  Malcolm stood, rising in the regal splendor of an ancient, a smile playing on his full lips beneath his dark beard.

  “Have you forgotten, little Fate? You have no say over vampire Fate? The undead pass over the Netherworld but do not enter.”

  “That’s all right,” Charity answered him. “I told you already. I’ll punish Cael by taking the half-born from him.”

  Smugly satisfied that she’d tied up the loose ends, Charity awaited the vampires’ concessions and peace offerings.

  “Paige Kinnell is half vampire – maybe already turned completely. She is not yours to take,” Malcolm played the ace he prayed would save his child.

  The girl halted in puzzlement, realizing too late she hadn’t considered the vampires taking this position. From the high backed chair she had climbed into, she swung her feet in unison out and in while she hummed, thinking.

  “Harry, can you jump through before I swing my legs out again?”

  “I can. Easy,” the blond boy said proudly. “Watch!”

  “I want to try,” Jael said excitedly, hopping while awaiting her turn.

  The distraction gave Charity time to decide.

  “I know!” Charity said slyly, never looking up from her legs. “We’ll play a game.”

  The vampires looked at one another uneasily, and when no objections were voiced immediately, Charity smiled.

  “Since the half-born is not fully changed – if she were you’d all know it – then half of her is still mortal. That half is mine. I could find her right now and take all of her, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me. But since there is a special circumstance, I say let chance decide.”

  She looked around the table at the ashen vampire faces.

  “The changeling has until Samhain to choose her vampire life. If she has not completed her Awakening, passing over the Netherworld and drinking as a true vampire by midnight on that night when the barrier between worlds is thinnest, then no choice remains for her. She will be mine.”

  Malcolm was the one to respond, and he remained stone faced as he bargained with the ancient, yet childlike, Fate.

  “Give your word you will not interfere with my daughter’s choices.”

  “I promise. Cross my heart and …”

  “You cannot die so that doesn’t count,” Jael interjected in a grown-up tone.

  Charity giggled.

  “She’s right; I can’t. Oh, well. I suppose you’ll have to take my word for it.”

  “You must promise not to cheat. No tornadoes, no earthquakes, no anything that will alter the natural outcome,” Malcolm lectured in a severe tone. The child continued smiling, telling that he’d missed something important. “And one thing more, little Fate. No magic.”

  Her face fell, her bottom lip pouting and sulky.

  “No magic,” she agreed reluctantly.

  “Not from you or your siblings, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” the girl answered, then added, “Oh! I almost forgot the fun part! No one may tell Paige Kinnell about the game. That’s cheating,” she looked pointedly at Malcolm, smirking.

  Conrad spoke up, “Why should we agree to your game? It is likely that Cael Maccinnis will continue cloaking the half-born until she is fully Awakened.”

  Charity tapped her finger alongside her cheek in deep thought a minute before smiling devilishly.

  “Because, silly, if you don’t play, I’ll make another game you’ll like even less. Maybe Malcolm won’t mind if I play with Pilar Michaels or maybe he will, but I know that Rhys won’t want me to play with Enya. Do you, Rhys?”

  Neither vampire answered, standing stoically to await the reactions of fellow Council members.

  “I see,” came Conrad’s clipped reply. “Very well then, little girl. You risk much in pursuit of your games.”

  His words hung in the air only for the vampires to consider, the children already happily making plans for their next adventure. Skipping from the meeting chamber, the children sang of mussels and cockles, the tune fading as they bounded away.

  Conrad faced his fellow members, anger lacing his tone.

  “What have you done? We should have handed Cael Maccinnis over to the Fates and washed our hands of this mess!”

  “Conrad,” Elinor censured him, “what are you saying? We’d never abandon one of our own. That is not the vampire way.”

  “The vampire way?” Conrad shook with indignation. “It is not the vampire way to bed mortals – whether they be Druid or otherwise – and produce half-born vampires! It is not the vampire way to carry on illicit affairs with Druid priestesses! It is not the vampire way to work in tandem with the Druids at all! Cael Maccinnis is a blight upon my clan’s name. He refuses his duty to take a leadership position and shirks all responsibility, trotting across the globe and bedding lesser vampires such as Rose MacAllister – and that’s not mentioning the fiasco with Kaiden Douglas and Gwendolyn. Now he’s bonded himself to an unchanged half-born, invoking The Third Fate, and uses Druid magic to hide their whereabouts! The Third Fate is dangerous, its implications far reaching. We haven’t dealt with it here since the Tuatha De Dannan roamed the Isles. This half-born would be a powerful being simply being the child of an ancient, but possessing the Third Fate invites gifts from the other realms.”

  “Cael has never forgiven us for what happened with Kaiden,” Rhys said sadly. “We were wrong to punish him. The lad was wronged and we knew it, but Kaiden promised so much hope where Cael was always bucking the system.”

  “The female swore that Kaiden spoke the truth!” Conrad blustered.

  “You cannot exonerate yourself, Conrad. None of us can. The lad opened his mind fully to us, but we refused to see the truth before our eyes and acted unjustly. By standing for him now we right a wrong done long ago.”

  Malcolm came alongside Rhys and clasped his shoulder, a show of solidarity.

  “Rhys speaks the truth, Conrad. Your clan name was not maligned by Cael, but by the Council.”

  The words failed to penetrate Conrad’s hardened heart.

  “Cael Maccinnis is no clan to me. I’ll not see him and that half-breed recognized within the vampire community! It’s sacrilege!”

  Elinor bowed her head, sorrow marking her fine features.

  “I fear, gentlemen, that this will rend the vampire realm irreparably. We must remain united. The Continent Council will not abide unrest on the Islands. They will appeal to the North American Council at once if they suspect division in our leadership or instability in our ranks.”

  “I concur,” Malcolm agreed. “Is there no way to avoid a rift among our Council?”

  Conrad flashed a malevolent glare at the three other members on the Council of Great Britain.

  “You can hand Cael Maccinnis over to the dawn.”

  Chapter Ten

  The children sat down to tea in their brightly decorated nursery. Charity poured and Jael buttered the flaky biscuits, placing them on the tiny plates. Harry waited impatiently, licking his lips and holding his stomach. Looking over at her sister, Charity set the china pot down gently and stroked Jael’s soft,
blond curls.

  “What makes you gloomy? Did you not have a good time today?”

  “No, I did,” Jael sniffed. “I…I just…I like Paige is all. I told you before, Charity. I don’t want to send her to the Netherworld!”

  Her tears fell like rain upon the lacy tablecloth, and Charity gathered her sister to her lap.

  “Don’t cry, Jael. Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  “Yeah, Jael!” Harry added, his hunger forgotten at seeing his sister’s tears. “Charity knows what she’s doing. Right?”

  He looked anxiously at his older sister for reassurance. Tears were rarely seen among the Fates.

  “Listen to Harry,” Charity soothed her youngest sibling. “Now let’s have our tea before it gets cold.”

  *

  Paige paced the bedroom floor, the creaks now familiar to her ears as she retraced her path again and again. Hunger gnawed, urging her to the kitchen despite her oath to avoid Cael. His words played anew in her mind, but they made no sense. Had he sent her family away from the terminal before the accident? And if so, why didn’t he tell her? Questions plagued her, and she found no peace.

  The house was too still, and Paige wished some, any, noise to break the silence that rang in her ears besides the eerie creak of floor boards beneath her feet. It was a lonely silence, not the comforting quiet of a late night snuggled with a cup of hot tea and book. Her body ached, washing her once again in fear. She panicked over every new sensation for fear it was her Awakening.

  An hour, then another passed as she fitfully paced the master suite, finally concluding that Cael had gone out since she’d heard no movement in the house aside from her own. Stepping over the broken door, Paige crept toward the kitchen with the hope of finding something to eat and drink before he returned. Unease lurked around every corner, but apart from the fire burning in the oversized hearth all was still. Setting the kettle to brew she rummaged through the cabinets, finding crackers. She then checked the fridge, pulling out a hunk of provolone and an apple.

  Thank goodness! I’m starving…

  The find had her mouth watering, but when she bit into the apple her stomach roiled, rejecting the kitchen’s bounty. Thinking she’d waited too long to eat she tried a cracker with no better result. Paige sank into a chair at the kitchen table, rested her head on the wooden table-top and closed her heavy eyes. A soft whistle slowly grew in intensity, rousing her from her daydream, and with steaming cup in hand she wandered the house in her solitude.

  Treasures beyond her wildest imagination, tucked into corners of shelves and resting atop mantelpieces, fascinated her. She wanted to examine them all, but nausea persisted, driving her back to the bedroom where she secreted the bag of food in the nightstand drawer before lying against the pillows, succumbing to sleep.

  Barking woke her, the pounding head, aching limbs and awful pain in her mid-section immediately reminding her of her situation.

  What is wrong with me?

  The pitiful thought came unbidden even though she knew the answer. Pain seared every nerve, and her throat burned with a fire of frightening intensity, the sudden convulsion coming upon her without warning. Paige would have screamed for help, but no sound would escape her.

  Help me…

  No help arrived. Sweating profusely, teeth chattering with fevered heat, she writhed on the bed.

  Call me to yerself, lass.

  The Council had summoned him. He’d just finished with them.

  Cael did not believe the Fates’ game was all that brewed among the powers behind the Vampire Council. Something else lurked behind the eyes of the Council members. He didn’t trust one of them. Even Paige’s father had a nervous look to him that made Cael uneasy. He flat out refused to uncloak her and bring her within the Council’s walls to wait out her transition. With every step away from them, Cael’s confidence grew in his decision to defy their order. Paige would remain hidden until fully turned. The Fates’ would not find her. The Druid magic would hold. It had better.

  When her plea for help touched his mind Cael buckled beneath the flash of her pain. He begged her call him to herself but heard nothing more. Seemingly materializing in two different locations at once, a rare talent he possessed, Cael could confound any who may be watching. After twice doing such he appeared at Raven House. A few minutes later Alden materialized by his side.

  “Let’s make this fast, Alden,” Cael shook his head. “I believe the thirst is hitting Paige, and I want to get her settled.”

  Alden grinned despite the severity of the situation.

  “The Raven may have other plans for me, Maccinnis. I’ll do my best.”

  “Wipe that look off yer face, Alden,” Cael joked dryly. “The Raven asks plenty of vampires to join in her fun. Doona be gettin’ a big head over it.”

  “True, true,” Alden admitted. “But does she bargain for them by name, Maccinnis? That’s what I ask you.”

  Cael shook his head, eyes twinkling in his lean, angular face.

  “That she doesna, my friend. I doona know whether to congratulate ye or tell ye to run for yer life.”

  The serious expression on Cael’s face gave Alden pause a minute until Cael could hold in his laughter no more. Relief was immediately evident on Alden’s face, multiplying Cael’s amusement with his longtime friend’s peculiar predicament. Any vampire would be glad to spend a night under the expert care of Raven, infamous for her gifted eroticism and hedonistic ways, but Raven rarely asked without wanting in return. Alden was right to be wary of the sultry vamp’s request for his presence.

  Night had fallen, its ebony darkness lurking in the corners of Raven House’s dimly lit entertainment hall. Vibrantly colored tapestries hung on the golden hued walls along with burnished bronze sconces, which cast their golden glow just enough to tantalize observers. Young in appearance and beautiful beyond imagination, half naked females engaged any who arrived, quickly joining the bodies engaged in erotic play scattered about the rooms. Blood-red divans littered the area, most occupied, and a few more risque groups writhed behind sheer silk panels, their blatant acts of intimacy softened by translucent ornaments.

  Cael’s thirst came alive, and he saw his friend shift uncomfortably, lust already rearing in the midst of such abandon.

  “Welcome to Raven House, gentlemen,” a soft voice announced behind them. “The Raven has requested you be shown to her private rooms. Follow me.”

  Turning, the pair followed the naked female, the dainty golden chain around her waist all that covered her body aside from the shimmering gold body paint. Black and shiny, her mass of hair fell to just above her buttocks in the back, her dark, almond shaped eyes and Hindu third-eye announcing her Indian heritage.

  The female did not speak again as she led them up the staircase before walking down a long hallway. Two guards stood at the wide entrance to the room staring straight ahead, taking no notice of the delicate creature leading them toward Raven’s rooms. Through a few rooms they passed women lounging about or prettying themselves at vanity tables, the soft conversations humming around the groups halting as the two males passed. All attention focused on their presence.

  “Pay them no heed,” the painted female spoke quietly. “You are not for them.”

  Upon entering the next room Cael watched Raven enter from the opposite end, emerging from her most private chambers.

  “It is nice to see you again, Cael Maccinnis,” she said, tilting her head slightly in respectful greeting. “Ah,” she laughed in sultry play, “We’ve lost you to the bond, I see. And from what I hear, you’ve angered the world.”

  “I’ve come to ask a favor of ye, Raven,” Cael began at once.

  “A favor?” she cooed, cocking her head to the side coquettishly. “Of me? What is it you have need of, Maccinnis?”

  “I want a few of yer rooms; for how long, I doona know. I’ll need to enchant them with Druid magic.”

  Raven smiled knowingly.

  “I assume this has to do with
your changeling? No… don’t tell me. I don’t wish to know.”

  “Then ye give yer consent?” he asked skeptically.

  Raven never gave something for nothing.

  “I did not say that, Cael Maccinnis,” she purred, walking slowly toward Alden. “I see you’ve brought your friend. Perfect.” Raven appraised Alden brazenly before continuing. “I’ll need a favor in return.”

  “Ask of me what ye will. If in my power to give, it will be done,” Cael replied.

  The Raven curled her lips in anticipation. Cael Maccinnis was a man of his word, but even he would have trouble paying this time.

  “I want to represent…those of my particular persuasion…on the Council.”

  “That is not mine to give ye, Raven.”

  “You are a Maccinnis. And an ancient. It is your right to address the Council. You could secure me a delegate seat, Cael. It’s time for change. The world has changed, and we need to change with it, or we will be destroyed.”

  Cael raked his hand through his hair, knowing Raven’s point valid, loathing the idea of addressing the Council.

  “After this they may not hear me, Raven. Ye take a risk associatin’ yerself with me.”

  “I have faith in you, ancient.”

  She turned around, clapping her hands twice.

  “Jodhaa!” her call summoned. “Is this the man you dream of?”

  The small, young woman did not raise her eyes but neared and picked up Alden’s hands, inspecting them carefully.

  “It is,” she answered, dropping his hands and stepping back from the large, muscled vampire.

  Confused, Cael glanced over at his friend to find that Alden’s eyes had reddened with the hunger and thirst of…

  “Ye didna want him for yerself! Ye are a cunnin’ woman, Raven,” Cael shook his head in disbelief as he and the Raven moved to the room’s doorway. “Ye know ye will be losin’ this girl,” he chuckled, pointing toward Alden, who was completely captivated by the petite female. “He’s already devourin’ her with his eyes.”

  The Raven laughed softly, dropping all pretense, simply being the woman she truly was.