Fate Foretold

by Jaliza A. Burwell

  Dad’s face flashes through my mind. His warm brown eyes, unlike my pale blue-grey ones. He always said I got them from my mother though I never had the chance to meet her. She died when I was just a baby. He loved to talk about how much I reminded him of her. I apparently wore my hair in the same style, preferring to keep it in a braid. My natural hair is like hers too, a white-blonde. I keep it dyed now since it’s a very distinct color and I need to blend in. The dark brown does that for me.

  I slowly doze off with thoughts of my father and mother. I hope that if there is something after death, they’re there together. My father deserves happiness after dealing with me.

  Once again, something yanks me hard the moment I close my eyes, and I fall.

  I land on the soft… floor?

  My head whips around as I take in the room. A kitchen. A nice, warm kitchen, smelling of a well lived in home.

  “Well, at least this worked the way it should have,” DJ says from behind me. I jump to my feet and turn to him, frowning hard. I’m too exhausted to play this game.

  “Let me go,” I say without preamble.

  DJ’s little smile melts away. “Not even a hello?” he asks, looking me over slowly.

  “This is on par with kidnapping.”

  He shrugs and moves over to the table, pulling out the chair and then sitting down. “I just want to make sure I still have power over my dream weaving. I invited you in.”

  “You forced me in,” I correct. “And I don’t appreciate it. I just want to get some rest.”

  Especially since sleep is going to be hard to come by in the next couple of days.

  DJ holds up his hands, smoothing out his voice, “I didn’t mean to offend you, Lyn. I just want to talk with you a little more. I hoped to catch you when you fell asleep.”

  “Why?” I ask, uncertainty creeping in.

  “Because not many can come uninvited into my dream realm and I want to know why you were able to.” A glint flashes in his eyes, and I can see the wariness in the way his bow-shaped lips press together.

  I eye the chair across the table from him.

  “I won’t bite.” He chuckles. I pause, noting the sound of his laugh. It’s rich and calming.

  “Fine,” I huff out and walk over to the table, keeping an eye on him. We’re both wary of each other.

  I settle down, hiding my shaking hands underneath the table. My energy reaches out to him but hits a block.

  A powerful block.

  His lips quirk up into a smirk, and I narrow my eyes.

  Who are these guys? Not many have the ability to use a block effectively like he can. People tended to leak in some way and a lot of training is needed to create anything efficient like his.

  “So,” DJ says, leaning back in his chair, giving off the impression that he’s completely relaxed. “Tell me something, Lyn, how are you able to hide your presence?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He snorts. “You do. You were able to get close to us in the forest without Eli noticing. That takes a lot of juice, something that should have exhausted you.” His eyes flicker over me. “But you look perfectly fine.”

  I snort. Perfectly fine? He’s too kind.

  Refusing to think about what being on the run has done to my body, I answer, “Practice.” My eyes narrow. “I’m sure you know about that. You can do a complete block.”

  He nods. “That I can. I’m just trying to understand how you’re able to get into my dream realm.”

  “I didn’t try to get into anything,” I snap, barely containing the frustration bubbling inside of me. “You brought me there.”

  “I didn’t. I don’t even know you. Something or someone sent you here if neither of us did. Who did you piss off?”

  I snort. “Who didn’t I piss off?”

  Shit.

  I shouldn’t have said that out loud.

  DJ’s eyes narrow as he stares at me. The playfulness he had melts into something serious, almost deadly. The slight tilt of his lips flattens into a thin line. The crinkle around his eyes smooths out, and I have to hold back my fear as I look at a man who has hurt people before and he’s willing to do it again if the job calls for it.

  Dangerous.

  “Explain.” That one word comes out clipped.

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” I reply, keeping a calm facade even as my conscious is yelling at me to run.

  “Explain before I make you.”

  I stand up now, growing defensive. Pulling on tendrils of the anger within, I say, “I’d love to see you try. I’m itching for a fight, and you’ll just give me the perfect excuse.”

  He doesn’t say anything, just glares at me.

  “Let me go,” I say. Don’t call my bluff. You’ll wipe the floor with me. “Obviously, I don’t want to be here and you don’t want me here. We don’t know each other. Let’s just part ways and chalk up the dream realm incident as some kind of freak screw-up.”

  “I can’t just let you go, not if you can slip into my dream realm.”

  “Then we will both fight to keep me out. If neither of us wants me to be here, then it shouldn’t happen.”

  “Fine,” he grits out and waves his hands. It’s as if a wave of water slams into me, steals my breath, and washes me away.

  I wake up in the bed gasping for air, my lungs convulsing, demanding air.

  “That son of a bitch,” I swear as I roll off the bed and to my feet. I stumble, the world tilting. I freeze until everything rights itself again. I glance out the window to see the sun just beginning to come out and play. Despite my visit to the dream realm passing so quickly, it took all night.

  I shake off the cobwebs in my head and go into the bathroom to relieve myself. Despite the long shower last night, I take another quick one, glad for the warm water, using it to wash away the events that occurred in my sleep.

  Closing my eyes, I work on relaxing my muscles with the hot water.

  My energy reaches out all around, and I fight to rein it all in. I don’t need to set off what equates to the magical version of a nuclear bomb. I might as well just go outside and scream to the world where I am.

  “I got this,” I whisper to myself. “I can do this.”

  I lean my head against the cool tile in the shower. I need a plan. Staying on the run forever won’t work.

  But what can I do? What should I do? Directly taking on Holsen isn’t an option. I won’t even be able to get within a mile of him. And even if I do have a chance, it’s a one in a bazillion shot.

  Everything, including the sun, moon, and stars, have to line up just right. Every little step would matter, every little decision, like deciding to draw in a breath, would matter.

  And I’m no assassin. I don’t kill.

  But I can’t stay on the run forever. Forever never lasts. Eventually, they’ll catch up to me.

  I shake my head before straightening up and finishing washing.

  After glaring at my last outfit, I throw it on. I’ll have to go to a laundromat. At least I’ll be able to get my blanket washed too.

  The next half an hour goes by quickly as I clean up any traces of my existence and then go out onto the street. I look both ways before going right, further into town. After going to the laundromat, I’ll head south and far away from here.

  The walk takes about twenty minutes before I come to the main strip. It’s still early morning, but I luck out with the opened laundromat.

  I get quarters and toss everything into a washer. Across is a small cafe, reminding me I need to eat. The door rings as it opens, and I glance around. There are a handful of booths and tables scattered around. Stools are set up at the counter and a middle-aged woman bustles around behind it. It’s early enough in the morning and the cafe is just as empty as the laundry mat, though the smells are definitely preferable. Coffee is the number one survival tool when on the run.

  The line is non-existent, so I go right up to the counter.

  “How may I help you?
” the lady asks, smiling too brightly for someone having to be up so early. Her energy hums around her to match her mood. I glance at the menu and order the first thing I see along with a black coffee. Strong black coffee. “Great, have a seat and someone will bring it over.”

  “Thank you,” I say, returning her smile.

  I turn around and claim a table in the corner, giving me the perfect view of the cafe and all its exits.

  While scanning the area, I notice a man walking by. He’s close to seven feet tall, lean, with dark eyes and walks like a man on a mission. No one walks like that this early in the morning. He pauses and his head turns as he takes in each person he sees. I slouch into my seat, my instincts screaming, warning me this man is searching for me.

  “Here you go, darling,” the same older woman says, placing a plate in front of me.

  “Th—” I pause and clear my throat, feeling like someone has their hand wrapped around my throat. “Thank you.”

  “Are you all right? You don’t look too well.”

  “I’m fine,” I whisper.

  How did I not see this? My eyes flicker over the man. He’s closer to the cafe now.

  The woman turns to see what catches my attention and then her warm brown eyes fill with understanding and a cold hardness settles across her face.

  “Honey, why don’t you take this to go? We have a back door.” She grabs my plate and nods her head towards the kitchen. I gape at her and she just raises an eyebrow.

  I risk looking out the window.

  The man is now making his way to the door.

  “I’ll take you up on that.” I slide out of the booth and throw my bag over my shoulder. The waitress goes into the kitchen with me on her heels. She grabs a to-go container and puts my breakfast sandwich in it, passes it to me, and motions towards the back door.

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice.

  I use my shoulder to push open the door and slip into an alley. Blowing out a breath to calm down, I try to clear my thoughts. Frustration fills me as I think about my clothes and having to leave them. There’s no way I’m going back to the laundromat to get them. It isn’t worth it. I have money. A lot of cash. I just don’t want to spend it when I don’t have to. Now I’ll need to buy a new wardrobe.

  Good thing I kept everything else with me in my bag.

  The alley is narrow, just wide enough to fit a line of trash bins and enough space to squeeze by them. I look both ways, trying to quickly decide which direction is safest. Each end will come out on side streets, it’s just a matter of choosing the side street the man won’t be on.

  I close my eyes, forcing my heart to slow down its rapid beat. Needing to know where to go, I pull down my defenses just enough for my gift to peek through. My skin tickles at the feel of my gift as it works.

  Left.

  Left is safe.

  My eyes snap open and spare the right only a brief glance before jogging toward the opening in the other direction. I peek both ways and don’t see the man. Instead of going to the front of the store, I turn to head further away, trying to think through the slowly creeping panic rising in my chest.

  I swallow and walk to blend in with the hand full of others around me heading in early to work. I can’t draw attention to myself. I’m normal.

  Don’t mind me. Just out for an early morning stroll. Nothing to stare at.

  I make it a block, passing another alley, when two bulky arms snake out and wrap around me. Before there’s time to let out a sound, one of the large hands covers my mouth. I’m yanked hard into the alley and dragged further in, away from any kind of safety.

  Terror rushes through me, and I thrash around, hoping to be released. This isn’t supposed to happen.

  I’m not some kind of master fighter, but I know enough and force my training to the forefront of my mind. I can’t let myself get taken like this. I truly would rather die.

  When I snap my head back, pain thuds against the back as it connects with something hard. A chin. The man’s grip loosens, and I twist my body, making sure to drive my elbow into his side. Then I fling my body away from him.

  Pain erupts in my shoulder, and I mentally swear at myself as I turn to run. How could I forget how narrow the damn alley is? Bricks really hurt when you fall into them.

  I only make it a few feet, pulling in air to scream my lungs off, when I’m shoved forward, the momentum of my run and the force of the body tackling me propelling me forward. We land on the ground and my head knocks against the unforgiving ground.

  Arms grab my shoulders and force me to turn around as someone heavy straddles my body.

  I blink past the pain and up into cold dark blue eyes. Dark enough to feel like I’m lost in a stormy sea in the middle of the night.

  “Are you done?” the man asks in a slight Spanish accent.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “Noah. And Miss Kabos, I’m here to take you to Mr. Holsen. He’s been waiting for you.”

  “Sorry, my schedule’s busy. I don’t have time.”

  “Don’t worry, I just made time for you. Let’s go.”

  He stands up and yanks on my arm, making it feel like he’s about to pull it off. His fingers dig into my skin as he forces me onto my feet. I bite my lip to hold back a whimper. The ground tilts as Noah practically drags me to the other end of the alley where an SUV is already standing by, the door open, the dark interior waiting to swallow me whole.

  “No.” I try pulling away from him, but he just tightens his grip, not bothering to say anything. And why should he? He’s apparently some kind of badass used to doing the dirty work. He doesn’t need to waste his time on pleasantries.

  I don’t have to wait long to feel like my life is over. I’m in the SUV, a different man sitting in the back with me while Noah gets into the front passenger seat. I try the door and realize that would be too easy. Of course, they have the child safety lock activated. Whoever created the child safety lock did it with good intentions, I know that, but it still sends anger through me. I mentally curse the man for coming up with the invention.

  “If you use your gifts, I’ll know,” Noah says, still focusing on the road ahead of him.

  “How?”

  “It’s my job,” he says and allows the silence to take over. I turn to watch the scenery.

  How did he know? I should have been fine. I should have known. Why didn’t I? My gift doesn’t limit me to just other people; I can use it for my own benefit and have since being on the run. It hasn’t failed me before, so why now?

  I glance at the back of Noah’s head, taking in the dark, nearly black hair, curling slightly at the nape of his tanned neck.

  His gift, maybe? Does his gift allow for him to get around my gift of Seeing?

  “We will be at the private airport in an hour,” the driver says. “They’re preparing now for takeoff. Mr. Holsen has been contacted.”

  “Good,” Noah replies.

  I stare out the window, my brain working overtime in search of a solution out of this. Desperation fans throughout my chest. My eyes flicker to Noah and back out the window.

  “I’ll know,” he growls, and I stiffen. “I’ll know the second you use your powers and you won’t like what I’ll do to you.”

  A bridge comes into view and a plan instantly comes to mind. It’s risky and scares the shit out of me, but I’m willing to do anything. Any option is better than letting them whisk me off.

  “I only need you alive, Adalyn. Mr. Holsen didn’t say anything about your state.”

  I lick my lips as we go over the bridge and I glance out. If any of the guards have good hearing, they’ll hear the increase in my heart rate. Fear curls deep in my stomach, but that doesn’t matter. I’m scared, but I still need to do it anyway.

  Rubbing my hands along my jeans, I glare at the back of Noah’s head. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Before I can chicken out, I turn in my seat, bring my feet close to my chest, and then kick out, hitting the man next to me.
My feet connect with his head, forcing it right into the window with a loud crack and knocking him out. I grab his gun, turning the safety off.

  “Shit,” someone swears, the SUV swerving, but I’m determined. I turn and shoot out my window.

  Noah is halfway to the back when I turn my gun on him, making sure to blank my expression. My chest heaves, and I know my eyes are big. Everything looks extra sharp as adrenaline courses through me. My hands shake and I have to work to force them still.

  Show no weakness.

  “I will shoot you,” I say in a calm voice.

  He doesn’t need to know I’ve never killed someone before or that I might throw up right now. His eyes flash dangerously with rage but he stills.

  “Driver. I suggest you pull over before you end up with a bullet in the back of your head.”

  After glancing at Noah, he does what I say. The clicking of the turn signal is loud within the SUV as it slows down in the middle of the road.

  “There’s nowhere for you to go,” Noah says, understanding my intention. “That drop will kill you and if not, then the rushing water will. The river is too deep. The current will keep you under.”

  The SUV comes to a stop, and I put my gun in one hand instead of the two-handed grip I had, but keep it focused on Noah.

  “Like I said, I’ll take my chances,” I say. I reach through the window, not caring about the glass scraping along my skin, and reach for the outside handle, opening my door.

  While keeping my gun focused on SUV, I quickly jump out. The windows are tinted, but I can see the shadows of them moving inside. Noah climbs out, his hands up, eyes laser focused on me as he walks around the vehicle.

  “Adalyn,” he snaps out. “Come on. You’ll die.”

  “Maybe. But it’ll be better than what Holsen has in store for me.” I inch over to the side and look over.

  Shit, that’s a long drop. I swallow as my throat grows dry.

  “See, there’s no way you’re going to survive that.”

  Noah moves closer, and I aim at the ground, pulling the trigger. The gun kicks back from the discharge as the shot echoes around us. The bullet pierces the pavement and the man jumps back, away from me. He needs to think I’ll shoot him. I’m not completely sure I’d be able to pull the trigger if the time comes, but he doesn’t know that.