Divine Destiny

by Hayley Todd

  Lucas stared at Will with wide eyes. It was obvious he didn't want to continue but he'd backed himself into a corner.

  Will leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and sighed. “Yes, Kyra. Working for him. I have an obligation to the Vampyre houses. Lucas allowed me to continue your coronation tour with you guys, but eventually, I'm going to be called to his home.”

  I sat there, stunned into silence. I still felt like I had only just gotten Will back into my life, safely, and now I was finding out that he would be taken from me again. A lump formed in my throat and I found myself unable to dislodge it or force any words out.

  “Lucas has assured that it'll be in stages. I'll spend half of the year with him, working for him, basically whatever the Vampyres need at the time, which may be nothing more than me being nearby, and the other half of the year, I'll be free to do as I wish.” He spoke calmly, as though this were easy news to deliver but it felt like my heart was breaking in two.

  I stared at the table, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me into it to think about all these implications alone without the stares of the others eagerly watching me for a reaction. Carson reached over to me beneath the table and out of sight, placing a hand on my knee. He squeezed gently but I couldn't even look at him.

  “Oh,” I finally said.

  Carson pushed his chair back. We had finished eating and I knew Lucas at least was several glasses of wine into the evening. He leaned haphazardly from the edge of his chair, balancing himself with a hand on the edge of the table.

  “I think we're going to head home,” Carson said, watching only me.

  Home. I could be alone at home. Maybe this wasn't as bad as my mind had made it, but right now I found myself struggling to catch my breath, struggling to think of anything but how it would feel for Will to be so far from me after having come so close to losing him.

  Carson helped me out of my chair. My mother and father both gazed at me heavily, concerned. “Thank you for dinner,” I said stiffly, taking Carson's hand. He led me from the room and I barely noticed Anton rise as we departed, following after us.

  We cleared the curtain, stepping onto the balcony. Anton caught up with us, placing his hand on my free one. A swirling peace filled me from my belly and spread out along my limbs all the way to my fingertips and toes. I leaned into Anton without realizing it, resting my head on his shoulder.

  Carson stiffened, releasing my fingers. He looked me over, but didn't seem angry and stepped closer to the balcony, leaning his forearms against the railing and looking over the crowded room below.

  He and Anton had an uneasy but accepted alliance. He hated that there was something Anton could do for me that he could not, but he also understood the necessity. Kellic seemed to have been reborn with a matronly sense of control but most baby vamps struggled with their emotions, especially Magicks. Magicks has a power within them that was fueled by strong emotions, egging them on. Carson had also confided in me that it had taken him more than a hundred years to get a full grasp on his emotions. I was two years old now but I still struggled frequently. So, no, he didn’t like it but he did accept it.

  Anton wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss into my hair. “Hey,” he said, lifting my face by my chin. His amber gaze peered down at me, his eyes tight around the edges. “I can take it when you can't. You know that. Will is going to be fine. It's like a job. He's basically working abroad.” He grinned down at me and most of the tension in me slipped away with a breath.

  I nodded, feeling guilty for the way I’d stormed out. I knew they understood but it didn’t make me feel better about it.

  I swallowed hard and peaked my head past the curtain. Everyone within had devolved into quiet conversation but looked up at my entrance.

  I cleared my throat, forcing the lump of anxiety away but felt Anton’s hand press against my spine and the awkwardness within me evaporated. “Good night, everyone. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  They elicited a round of farewells and Anton rejoined them with a comforting glance back at me. My father beamed, sensing that I was in a better mood. I was somehow certain that he’d known what Anton had done. He and my mother waved and I left the restaurant with Carson, feeling troubled still, but more manageable so.

  Chapter Ten

  At the front of the restaurant, a valet brought the Evora around, handing the keys to Carson. He spoke with the man for a moment before slipping what suspiciously looked like a $100 bill into his palm. The man argued for a moment but Carson assured him all was well and he finally accepted the tip and made his way back to the valet counter.

  Carson helped me into the passenger seat, daintily holding my fingers as I lowered myself into the vehicle before shutting my door and coming around to the other side to settle behind the steering wheel.

  “I’m sorry,” I said in a burble of emotion, fighting it back down as hard as I could. I didn’t want everything Anton had done for me to be in vain. The man was already always eager for his next fix of blood as it was and his unintentional exertion toward me only proved to tax him more, costing him more. The least I could do was try not to call any more attention to myself.

  Carson glanced over as he merged the vehicle back into traffic. “For?” He asked. He seemed calm but I could see the layer of tension running through his limbs. He gazed at me for a long moment before returning his eyes to the road. I could’ve sworn a tiny smile had appeared on his lips.

  “For the freakout back there,” I replied, jutting my thumb towards the restaurant falling away behind us. I sagged, worrying my fingers in my lap. “I didn’t mean to ruin the night, but I appreciate you deciding it was time to go home.”

  My words hung in the air for several moment as the city buildings fell away from us. Stratsburg was nearly two hours from the club and my apartment. It had been a worthwhile trip to see a vampire geared restaurant though, as well as my family. The Evora had slipped onto a long narrow highway before Carson responded, the night empty in all directions.

  He reached over, clutching my hand in my lap. “You don’t have to apologize. Everyone else seems to forget that you’re so young. I don’t.” He paused, a playful grin spreading across his face. “It’s kind of hard to forget when I feel it through you.” His thumb rubbed gently along the back of my hand.

  “Was it this extreme for you?” I asked him, trying to picture a Carson from ancient times, struggling to maintain control over his emotions. Carson tended not to let many emotions play across his face. Did that have something to do with his seemingly expert levels of control? But that wasn’t exactly true. I had seen Carson in the throes of passion, riddled with terror, laced with fury, he had emotions and plenty of them. He was just better at hiding them.

  He nodded his response and it sent his chestnut hair falling over his forehead in an adorable way. His spring green eyes were narrow, focused on the road, though he was definitely considering something from his past. “I think probably Magicks or Succubus/Incubus get the worst of the amplified emotions,” he replied after a moment. “They’re both born vampires who inherently have powers interlaced with their emotions. Once they’re amplified, you’re trying to fight the emotion itself, the irrational thoughts and feelings, and trying to shove the power building back down to where it came from. It’s not easy.”

  “You got better at it eventually, though, right?” I asked, squeezing his fingers tighter in my own. He gave one reassuring quick squeeze back.

  “I don’t know that I’ve gotten better at dealing with my emotions as much as I’ve gotten better experiencing them,” he said.

  “Experiencing them?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Though some may say it detracts from overall quality of life, I force many of my emotions to not be acknowledged at all. Or I used to anyway.” He glanced at me, lifting our joined hands to tap my chin with his forefinger. “This bond with you has forced me to face many emotions I had left behind.”

  “Like?” I promp
ted, pressing my lips to the backs of his knuckles gently.

  “Love, rage, heartbreak, despair, overwhelming joy. Those emotions can truly change you, clear to your core. I had disentangled myself from them many years ago. But you bring them all back.” He smiled.

  “Is that bad?” I asked. I hadn’t realized that I had essentially brought him down to my level by being imprinted with him.

  One of his eyebrows arched up in disbelief. “Definitely not. I had nearly forgotten what I was missing. I’ve kind of begun to agree with those critics. What is the purpose of life without all its ranges of emotion? What is love without hate, joy without sorrow, happiness without rage? The only true way to enjoy life is to experience them all.”

  We sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, hands clutched together, hyper aware of each other but completely at ease with this quiet.

  A light flashed outside my window, headlights reflected in the mirror into my eyes. I squinted hard against them, readjusting in my seat to avoid the blinding spots of illumination shining back at me.

  We had merged onto a four lane road, stretching over a smaller two lane beneath. It was like on either side by forest, giving it a country feel though we were only about twenty minutes from Stratsburg. The car behind us was the only other vehicle on the road and I had to silently wonder if their high beam lights were on with the way their headlights kept darting into my window and blinding me.

  Suddenly, the Evora lurched forward, Carson easing harder on the accelerator. He pulled his hand free of mine to return it to the wheel. His expression had gone hard.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, confused. The vehicle behind us increased their pace as well. I could feel my heart hammering in my throat.

  “Something’s not right,” he replied in a growl. He pressed a phone shaped button on the steering wheel and the speakers erupted in sound.

  “Phone,” the speakers said.

  “Call Damien, cell,” Carson replied to the inquiry.

  The phone started ringing and picked up almost immediately.

  “Carson,” my father greeted from the other side of the line. I was almost certain I’d just heard him slur out the words.

  “Damien, I think we have a problem,” Carson responded.

  A problem? I peered at the car behind us in our side mirror. Beyond it’s lights I couldn’t see much more about it.

  “What’s wrong?” My father asked, his words becoming more clear. I could sense the fear in his voice which had my heart rate increasing further.

  “We’re being followed,” Carson replied through his teeth.

  It had been an eventful couple of years after Henrick, but with those tight words all the fear and anxiety I had felt then came rushing back.

  “Where are you?” came my father’s clipped reply.

  “About twenty minutes outside of the city.”

  “Can you turn around?”

  I gazed into the darkness around us. There was a median across the center of the road but it was filled with shrubbery that I was sure the Evora could cross without causing an accident. There were no upcoming exits.

  “No,” Carson replied, hard.

  There was a pause on the other end of the line and I could hear Damien barking orders at the others. It sounded as though they were in the process of leaving the restaurant.

  “We’re on our way. Try to stay ahead of them,” he replied and the phone line went dead.

  The car lapsed back into silence, Carson peering around for something, anything that we could do if they caught up to us, but there was nothing but open road.

  He glanced down at me and I knew he could feel if not hear, my rapid heartbeat. I could taste it on my tongue, the quick thump-thumping in my ears now.

  He pressed harder on the Evora’s accelerator, sending the tiny car zooming down the highway. The headlights pressed closer still.

  The dial on the speedometer crossed the one hundred mile per hour mark, pushing higher as we sailed across the ground.

  He reached over, clutching my fingers in his. His hand was tight, almost painfully so, but I didn't think he realized how tightly he was gripping me.

  “It's going to be okay,” he said, but I had to wonder if it was more for my benefit or his. Every part of his form was rigid. I had never seen him like this. I had seen him as a lithe warrior and a gentle lover but I had never seen the man so tense before. I knew he hadn't intended it but it was making me more ancy.

  “What do we do?” I asked him, glaring back at the vehicle swarming along behind us. It inched closer, not immediately joining the gape but it was definitely making a go at it.

  Carson was quiet for several long moments before he replied. “I won't let them have you,” he responded, not truly answering the question but sending a silver sting of fear down my spine.

  The vehicle crawled closer and for an instant I could see it. It wasn't a car at all, it was a large black SUV, it's windows so darkly tinted I could see nothing within them. It surged behind us and I could even hear the engine roaring behind us.

  “Hang on,” Carson commanded, releasing my hand to grip the gear shift. I obeyed, grasping the handle above the door in one hand and pressing my other against the center console, locking myself into place. My heart slammed in my chest, knocking the breath from me. I panted, trying desperately to calm myself in the face of overwhelming fear.

  The SUV slammed into the Evora’s bumper, sending it into a fishtail along the road. Carson maneuvered the car hard, fighting against physics to try to right our path. I grimaced. My baby was sure to have a mark from that.

  We dashed forward, skimming the ground just before the SUV’s high grill that I could easily see in the back window. Carson slammed his foot on the gas, and the Evora made very effort to soar down the road in the wake of the dangerous vehicle behind us. It was much bigger than the Evora and would almost assuredly demolish the little sports car if given a chance.

  We sped across the highway, the speedometer dipping toward one twenty. The SUV crept closer again, it's engine ripping the air.

  Slam!

  The SUV rearended us again, sending us into a horrible spin. The car swiveled around and around, the world outside spinning, making me dizzy. I clutched the handle so hard that I felt it crack beneath my grip. My other hand grasped the center console’s cup holder, just barely keeping me from lifting out of my seat. My chest pressed hard against the seatbelt that kept me tethered down.

  I glanced at Carson. His eyes were narrowed, his face hard. He braced himself against the inside of the vehicle, struggling with the steering wheel to right us. The SUV had backed away, keeping close but watching our uncontrollable spin.

  As our spiral slowed, the SUV revved, slamming into the passenger door, crumpling it against me. The car spun again, in the other direction this time, making my stomach lurch and my heart pound harder still.

  The SUV backed off, still watching carefully. Carson managed to bring the car to a standstill but we were sitting sideways across both lanes of traffics. We would have to back up to turn and head back down the road. In the meantime, the SUV watched us like a hungry predator.

  Carson dove for the shifter, yanking it into reverse and slamming on the gas. The car surged backwards in a turn, trying to right our path down the highway.

  But the SUV didn't give us a chance. They had backed farther and farther from us during our second spin, giving them ground to get to speed. They sped toward us, headlights blazing through our car windows. It slammed against the driver side, lifting the car from its wheels and throwing us through the night air.

  The world spun, above us, beneath us, as we twisted through the air, parts of the car already having crumpled around us. We soared over the outer boundary of the highway, plummeting down toward the trees below.

  My heart was in my throat, my stomach roiling as we hurtled toward the earth, physics guiding us back to the ground below. My leg was twisted in by the crumpled passenger door, already pressed awkwardl
y and painfully. I pressed my hands to the ceiling as I dangled from my seatbelt with the Evora’s final descent.

  I could see only trees through the windshield in front of me. Above, through the moonroof, I could see thickets and dirt and grass lurching closer to us.

  “I love you, Carson,” I shrieked over the roar of wind in my ears.

  “I love you,” came a quiet reply from beside me.

  And then the roof of the Evora slammed into the earth beneath, crushing us beneath the vehicle’s weight.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hermes and I parted, and he drifted after Hera, laughing and smiling already. He was most definitely a cheery type, though I didn't exactly trust him. Hera began rambling about some battle that Hermes had really missed out on, describing deaths in gruesome detail. I ventured away from them, needing but a moment to myself before the others would arrive.

  I ventured across the open second floor to an alcove that opened onto air beyond. It held a balcony, one big enough to lounge in and I was eager for the opportunity. A long chaise lounge sat alongside the outer railing, looking down over the edge of Mount Olympus. It was a glorious figure, stretching up to the clouds and beyond.

  Mount Olympus was truly magnificent. It was a multi-tiered building, accentuated by large white marble columns with golden trim. From this balcony, I could see a large portion of the front of the building. I could also peer down over the edge of the building to densely wooded greenery. To the right of the entrance, a rolling waterfall roared down into the trees. It truly was a beautiful sight. To those a bit less cynical anyway.

  Several figures touched down before the grand marble staircase leading up to the entrance of the building. I could identify Ares, a large golden spear leaned against his shoulder, a round white and gold shield strapped across his back. Beside him, a diminutive silhouette identified Aphrodite, a golden rod braced in her hand.