It was obvious he didn’t either, or he wouldn’t have been asking them repeatedly who they were. But Megan was determined not to be distracted.
These three girls were in some kind of crisis, and if the only way to talk to them was to settle the crisis first, then she would do that.
Besides, she felt something close to relief. She had been out of her element all day.
But working with teenagers, especially rich, spoiled, and emotionally neglected teenagers, was something she knew more about than maybe anyone else on the planet.
“Daddy did send you, didn’t he?” Crystal asked.
“So what if he did?” Megan said.
Rob made little warning motions with his hands. Megan pretended she didn’t see them.
“Would it make that much difference if he had?” she asked.
“Well, duh!” Brittany said. “E-yeah. It would.”
“How come?” Megan asked.
“They think Daddy’s out to get us,” Tiffany said. She continued to page through the book, pretending disinterest.
“You don’t?” Megan asked.
“Of course, she doesn’t,” Crystal said. “She thinks she’s so much better than we are.”
“She thinks she’s Daddy’s favorite,” Brittany said.
A lot of issues here. Rob had let his hands fall to his sides. He was watching her as if she surprised him, but a concern line marred his forehead.
“I’d prefer it,” Megan said carefully, “if the girl I asked the question to was the girl who answered it.”
“We’d prefer it too.” Tiffany finally looked up from her book. Her dark eyes flashed with anger.
“But we haven’t talked like normal people since we got this job,” Crystal said.
“Job?” Megan asked.
“Y’know,” Brittany said. “This stupid Fate job.”
“You’re the Fates?” Rob put his hand over his mouth after the words came out. He looked surprised, but Megan couldn’t tell whether he had been surprised by the fact that he had spoken aloud or surprised by the fact that these girls were Fates.
Megan was certainly surprised that these girls were Fates. She had thought the Fates were Fates. Not that she believed the Fates of Greek mythology would be as ditzy as those three women were. But they were more plausible Fates than these young girls.
Although she had noticed that these girls spoke like the three older women, one at a time, all in a specific order.
“Interim,” Tiffany said.
“Interim what?” Rob asked, his fingers muffling the words. He got the question out before Megan could.
“Fates,” Crystal said. “We’re the Interim Fates.”
“Why is everyone surprised by this?” Brittany asked.
“Maybe it’s because we suck at it,” Tiffany said.
“We don’t suck at it,” Crystal said. “We don’t suck at it like those other three did. They made Daddy really mad.”
“We’re making Daddy really mad,” Brittany said.
“Because we’re not doing anything,” Tiffany said. “They made him mad because they did stuff.”
“Which makes sense for us not doing stuff,” Crystal said.
“Y’know, like, duh,” Brittany said.
Megan felt that same swirling, head-turning momentum she’d felt when she’d first encountered the three adult Fates.
She had to work at returning to her own centered place. The key to therapy was listening. And it was hard to listen to these girls because of the way they spoke.
“So,” she said gently, “you have to speak in the same order. You can’t break that?”
“Would you sound this stupid on purpose?” Tiffany asked.
“You sound quite intelligent to me,” Megan said.
“Because she’s the brainy one,” Crystal said.
“And she’s mad at us for making her read all the books,” Brittany said.
“I’m mad at you guys for a bunch of reasons,” Tiffany said. “And you screwed up the order.”
“What order?” Megan asked.
“The speech order,” Crystal said. “We tried a spell out of one of the books so we could talk, like, when we wanted to.”
“And all it did was make Crystal talk first,” Brittany said. “I used to do that.”
“Which is really annoying,” Tiffany said. “I always start to say something after Crystal, but I can’t say anything until Brittany covers us all with her bubblegum breath.”
“You used to like bubblegum,” Crystal said.
“So did you,” Brittany reminded her.
Megan was starting to get a headache. They spoke that way involuntarily? Did they go on tangents involuntarily too? Or was that simply the way these girls thought?
Rob had moved next to one of the bookshelves. He leaned on it, watching the entire interaction. His gaze kept meeting Megan’s, sending her warnings that she pretended she wasn’t receiving.
“Let’s focus,” Megan said. “You’re all angry. Tell me about that as best you can.”
“We’re supposed to be doing this together,” Tiffany said. “Together doesn’t mean I do all the work.”
“We make decisions,” Crystal said.
“We do?” Brittany asked.
Tiffany closed the book with a bang. She looked directly at Megan. The girl’s eyes were so full of fury that Megan could feel it as if it were her own.
“Daddy made this sound like fun, but it’s not. It’s hard, and no one else is trying, except me. And I don’t want to try.” She spoke really fast, as if she were working to get each word out before the others had to speak for her.
“He said we’d just grow into the job,” Crystal said.
“He said all we had to do was what he said,” Brittany said. “But he’s not saying anything except how come we’re not doing our job.”
“Does your father live here?” Megan asked.
“Meg,” Rob said. “Their father is Zeus.”
And you’re the King of France, she almost said, because she would have if he’d been some Los Angeles parent who was interfering with her work. But he wasn’t the King of France, he was Robin Hood, and the father of these three young, confused girls could possibly be Zeus.
If the girls were the Interim Fates.
And the other three were the real Fates.
Who had given up their magic to understand their job better, and then realized that Zeus had cheated them in a power broker takeover.
And if all of that was the case, then Rob was right: Megan was out of her league.
“No,” Tiffany said as if Rob hadn’t spoken. “Daddy doesn’t live here. He can’t. Technically, the Powers That Be aren’t supposed to interfere with the Fates.”
“Who told you that?” Crystal asked.
“She read it somewhere, I bet.” Brittany’s voice was filled with disapproval.
“I’ve been reading because I’m trying to get us out of this mess. It’d be a lot easier if you guys would help,” Tiffany said.
Megan’s stomach lurched. She looked at Rob. He had the same expression, wary and filled with concern. He hadn’t noticed what Tiffany just said.
“Are you serious about that?” Megan asked.
“About what?” Crystal asked.
“About getting out of this mess,” Megan said.
“Yes!!!” All three girls answered at once, their voices so loud they almost—almost—matched the intensity of Kyle’s broadcast.
The concerned line on Rob’s face grew deeper. He made those funny little movements with his hands again.
“Well,” Megan said, “I know how you can get out of this.”
Rob’s movements became more pronounced. This time, she didn’t even make eye contact.
“See?” Brittany said to the others, “I told you this was a test from Daddy.”
“No test,” Megan said.
“How do we know that?” Tiffany asked.
“Do you have magic?” Megan asked.
“Well, duh!” Crystal said. “What good are Fates without magic?”
Rob rolled his eyes, but Crystal had a point. The three Fates that were with Kyle right now seemed completely out of place. Perhaps they wouldn’t be so out of place if they had a little more control.
“But it doesn’t do us a lot of good,” Brittany said. “There’s a lot of rules, and we didn’t know that.”
“Even though we’re supposed to enforce them.” Tiffany shoved the book off her lap onto the table beside her. “No one explained that part either.”
The no one in question had to be their father, Zeus. The man sounded like a real piece of work.
Megan couldn’t deal with him yet. Maybe she wouldn’t have to at all if this worked right.
“Well,” she said, “like you three, I don’t completely understand the rules of magic. I assume you know them better than I do. Can you use your powers to see if I’m being sincere?”
Crystal and Brittany looked at Tiffany. She nodded.
“You gotta start the spell, then,” Crystal said.
“I can do, like, the hand stuff if you tell me what it is,” Brittany said.
“I’ll just do it.” Tiffany made a beatific hand movement. A tiny light formed around Megan.
“Oh!” Crystal said. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Me, too,” Brittany said. “All you have to do, lady, is tell us something.”
“Tell us again that you know how to get us out of this,” Tiffany said.
Megan nodded. “I do know. But it would require secrecy and trust on your part. Can you do that?”
The light around her remained white. She had no idea of that was a good or bad thing.
“Sure,” Crystal said.
“Yep,” Brittany said.
“Of course,” Tiffany said.
Megan smiled. Apparently, the whiteness had been a good thing.
“All right,” she said. “Here’s what I think you need to do.”
Seventeen
This whirlwind travel was starting to make her dizzy.
Megan clutched Rob’s hand. It seemed like they existed in a void for a half a second, which was better than the inside of Zoe’s closet, particularly with Zoe dressed like a Victoria’s Secret model (and looking like one too, dammit!) and Travers with his jeans unzipped.
Megan blushed just thinking about that.
No one wanted to imagine their brother doing what her brother was probably doing right now.
She shuddered, and then, suddenly, she was in a library. A large, old library covered with beautiful shelves that ran up several stories. The library didn’t smell like musty books, though. It smelled like old dog pee mixed with bad pizza and bubblegum.
She had never been to a place like this. It was too big to be real. The rooms seemed to go off this main area for ever and ever. They even disappeared into a fog-shrouded distance.
Rob squeezed her hand, but he was frowning. He sniffed loudly, obviously taking in that hideous pee-and-pizza smell. He touched the dust-covered surface of a nearby book and shook his head.
“Something’s very wrong here,” he whispered.
“We can hear that!” A young woman’s voice floated in from the next room.
“Why does everyone materialize in the wrong place?” asked another young woman.
“Have you ever thought that we’re in the wrong place?” asked a third.
Rob’s frown grew deeper. He let go of Megan’s hand, put a finger to his lips, then stepped over a pile of magazines toward the sound of the voices. Slowly he peered around the corner, and his frown turned into a full-blown grimace.
Then he reached out his hand, and Megan took it.
She was beginning to trust this man, although she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the confidence with which he moved, or maybe it was just the mercurial nature of his emotions. Anyone who went through that many moods in such a short period of time couldn’t be hiding much.
He helped over the magazine pile, around a mountain of dirty laundry, and through a stack of open books, all resting on top of each other.
The books had interesting titles: The History of Finger-Pointing in the Magical World: The Titans through The Powers That Be; Famous Familiars and Their Times; and, ominously, The War Between The Kingdoms Volume 45: Faerie.
But Rob wouldn’t let her linger. Instead, he led her into the next room. Three teenage girls sprawled on lawn chairs. Someone had placed ugly green Astroturf beneath the chairs and set up a wading pool next to one of the floor-to-ceiling oak book stacks. Several books tottered along the edge of the wading pool, dangerously close to the water.
Megan wanted to move all that interesting paper away from danger, but Rob held her tightly at his side.
He was staring at the girls. They were worth staring at. The one closest to Megan was another redhead—Megan hadn’t seen so many pretty redheads in one day in years (which could have been an effect of living in Los Angeles, where she saw too many beautiful blondes).
The redhead had cropped her lovely hair so short that it looked like a crewcut. She wore a green bikini that left nothing to the imagination, and she had half a dozen tiny tattoos—most of them of miniature versions of herself (along with one or two roses)—along her torso. A diamond-studded ring stuck out of her belly button, and a matching one hung on the side of her aquiline nose.
She had large breasts and wide hips, and Megan knew that once she hit her twenties the redhead would share Megan’s plus-size figure and not know how she got there.
Next to her, a petite blonde (why were they always petite?) leaned forward in a way that would desert her long about twenty as well. She was painting her toenails fuchsia. The girl wore three seashells, all covering the most strategic locations, and tied in place with hot pink cord. If only she had one quarter of the redhead’s figure, she might have been able to pull off the look. But she didn’t. She looked like a little girl experimenting with her sexy older sister’s clothing.
The last girl wore her hair in cornrows. White beads dotted the ends, making her click with each movement. She wasn’t wearing a bikini at all—or if she was, it wasn’t visible beneath her long white t-shirt.
She was the only one with a book on her lap, and in her right hand, she held a pencil. The eraser end had been chewed off. Another pencil was shoved behind her left ear.
Only the redhead looked up when Megan and Rob entered the room.
“Hey, guys,” she said, “we have more idiots.”
Rob flushed. Megan tightened her grip on his hand. She wasn’t trying to control him, but she had a sense that antagonizing these girls wouldn’t be a bright idea.
The blonde raised her head. She shoved a piece of hot pink bubblegum in her mouth and started to chew with her mouth open.
“Grrrr—aaaate,” she said. “More blinking work.”
“For me,” said the girl with the cornrows. She didn’t look up at all.
“You should look, Tiffany,” said the redhead. “This guy’s a dish.”
“Yeah, babe,” said the blond. “Dump the empath and join us. We need some entertainment, right, Tiff?”
Tiffany tucked an errant cornrow behind her right ear. She still didn’t look up. “Daddy’s gonna be really mad at us if we don’t figure out this familiar thing. He says it’s gonna be a crisis real soon now.”
Megan frowned at Rob. He shrugged ever so slightly, but that grimace he’d had earlier had morphed into an expression of controlled panic.
What was so frightening about three teenage girls?
Except, of course, that they were teenage girls.
“So that means it’s not a crisis right now, right, Brittany?” the redhead glanced at the blonde. Blondes named Brittany. Apparently they infected every plain of existence.
“Right, Crystal,” Brittany said, and blew a bright pink bubble.
“Find out what they want and make them leave,” Tiffany said. She sounded angry.
“Tell us what you want
and then leave,” Crystal said.
“Who are you?” Rob sounded like he already knew, like he was afraid of the answer.
Brittany rolled her china blue eyes. “Everybody asks that question.”
“Maybe because they can’t believe what they see,” Tiffany mumbled as she turned the pages.
“You’re in a really bad mood, y’know?” Crystal said.
“Yeah,” Brittany said. “Get your nose out of that book for once, and look up. This guy’s hot.”
Tiffany looked up. Her flat gaze met Rob’s. “Hi, hot guy. Do you know how to read?”
Rob opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at Megan as if she had the answers. She wanted to lean back and observe for a moment. These teenagers had issues, and not just with each other. Something was going on here, something underlying the entire scene, that made all three girls unusually tense.
“Of course I can read.” Rob sounded offended. “I’ve been able to read since the Renaissance.”
Megan gave him a startled look. She couldn’t remember when the Renaissance was, exactly (if she ever knew—history had never been her strong suit), but she knew it wasn’t during Robin Hood’s era. He went at least a hundred years or two or three before he learned how to read.
No wonder the question made him bristle.
“Daddy sent you, didn’t he?” Crystal asked, her full lips turned downward. “This is another stupid test, isn’t it?”
“Tell him we’re not going to stand for it!” Brittany poked Tiffany. “Tell him after getting this fake-o lame-o pool as a reward, we’re not doing anything he wants ever again.”
“You guys are not getting this,” Tiffany said. “We would’ve gotten a real pool if you both hadn’t blown the final question.”
“Daddy says this is a real pool,” Crystal said.
“It says ‘pool’ on the side,” Brittany said.
“‘Wading pool,’” Tiffany said with barely masked anger. “And if you knew anything about anything, you’d know that wading pools are for babies, not for babes.”
“Oh.” Crystal’s entire body wilted.
“She already told you that, dummy,” Brittany whispered so loudly that it sounded like she was shouting.
“Excuse me,” Rob said. “I asked a question. Who are you?”
Fates 06 - Totally Spellbound Page 22