"It's clear now tha' you're a Divination Oracle, which means tha' you read Kismet." Still holding her gaze, he held up his left hand. "Tha's wha' you saw."
She coughed once, cleared her throat. "What's Kismet?"
"It's the language of the Fates. Left hand palm lines are really Kismet lines, and within those lines is your future. Well, the parts tha' you're supposed to know abou'. You can read tha'. It's a rare talent for an Oracle to have. There hasn' been an Oracle in at least forty years, but there hasn' been a Divination Oracle in at least a century, so plan on readin' a ton of Kismet lines, wan. The heroes are gonna be all over you for definite when they catch wind of this because truth is, you're the only one who can read this crap."
She frowned. "So…are you saying I'm like a palm-reader or something?" She shivered. "Seems creepy and evil." She knew her mother would be appalled. Beth had been adamant in steering Chloe and Benjy away from anything dark growing up. They hadn't been allowed to dress up as witches or vampires for Halloween, and they couldn't go anywhere near the fortune-telling booth at the Adel City Fair. Her mother would flip her wig if she knew that her own daughter was a real fortune teller now.
Strafford's head had been bowed as he stared at his hand. Now he was looking up at her from underneath those gorgeous eyelashes. "I wouldn' call it evil," He continued, "It's not like you're actually predictin' the future. Our destinies are already decided––"
"––And our actions and decisions will determine how they'll play out. I know."
Strafford looked surprised as he raised his head, but only for a moment, then he was all Mr. Cool, Calm, and Beautiful again. "Kismet isn't really evil 'cause it only works if you make the right decisions. Well…it only works properly. If you make the wrong decisions or act on a bad conscience, Kismet will screw you good. It's our version of karma."
"What do you mean?"
Slowly, Strafford walked around to the other side of the bed, and like a guy who had perfect control of every muscle in his beautiful body, poured himself back across her bed without any support, leaving his head resting right next to her leg. His scent drifted right up into her nose. Ahhh. She fought the urge to reach down and run her fingers along his strong jawline, down his neck, and across those fabulous abs hiding underneath his shirt. She sat on her hands.
Strafford seemed oblivious to her fidgeting, or pretending to be so. "Kismet is a privilege, Red, not a right. You mus' have good intentions or Kismet will not give you wha' you're lookin' for. Either it will give you a prophecy so hard to figure out tha' you may never figure it out. Or," His voice became low, "it will change your destiny all together."
"I thought once the Fates decided your destiny, it couldn't change."
Once again, he seemed surprised that she knew this. "The Fates can't change it, but you can. Your choices can."
A lightbulb went off in Chloe's head. "It's your subconscious, the part they can't touch. That's where your destiny goes after it's decided. I guess your subconscious knows your true intentions and it accommodates them––good or bad."
Strafford looked thoughtful. "Tha' makes sense. Never knew it was all of tha', but it makes sense." He looked at her. "How did you know all this?"
"Oh…I just do. I am the Oracle, right? I should know these things." She could feel his eyes on her, but pretended to be distracted by the fragmented moonlight shining in through the window.
“So does Kismet come from the Fates, or Apollo?” She asked. It was all sort of confusing.
“Destiny is the Fates business. Always. They decide it and we live it. But Apollo governs it. He decides whether you get to live in the know or not. At least when it comes to Kismet. Absolutes are granted by the Fates alone.”
She thought on this a minute.
"Can I ask you something else? About Kismet?"
"If you insist."
She did. "Why don't you want to know what your Kismet says? Why did you stop me?" She couldn't get what she had read out of her head.
He sat up, bringing them shoulder to shoulder. "The past is hard enough to deal with, Red. I don't need knowin' the future makin' things any more difficult for me." That answer was full of holes, but she let it slide, happy he’d even bothered to reply.
A silence fell between them.
He was staring at her with even more intensity now. Gods, she loved his eyes. They were so fierce and gray, like daggers stabbing straight through her soul. Nope, this was definitely not a guy she should be having sweet dreams about. She should have already shut her heart down on his account. She should have turned away and never looked into those impassioned gray eyes again. The Dropper might have been dangerous, but Strafford Law was like acid. Searing and consuming, leaving nothing but bones behind.
Suddenly, without warning, he angled his body to lean across her, transferring his weight to his right hand for support. He tucked the tips of a few of his fingers under her thigh. Definitely on purpose.
With his face close and his breath sweet, he said, "Why didn't you tell me about your future voice?"
She felt her breath catch for a minute. "I…it wasn't intentional…I…didn't know..." Gods. Did he really expect her to speak right now?
And did the fact that Strafford knew about her future voice and absolute prophecy mean that he knew the Fates had taken up residence in her mind? What about Apollo, did he know too? She hoped not. She really, really hoped not. Somehow, she knew that keeping this secret meant everything. No one could know about the Fates. Not even Strafford.
"Secrets will only keep me from protectin' you the way I've sworn to, Red." His eyes were roaming her face, as if he were searching for the perfect spot to kiss. My lips.
"Nothing will keep you from me," she replied, not realizing what she had said until it was too late.
But he had heard every word, every single mortifying syllable, and because of it, did something she hadn't expected.
Strafford smiled. A true one, not a smirk, and she realized in that moment why they were so rare.
His smile was killer gorgeous. Deadly. Downright toxic with perfect, white teeth set behind full, kissable lips. It should have been illegal for him to have such perfect lips. Her heart beat like a drum inside the hollow of her chest, instead of stopping cold like she had expected it to. He had, without a doubt, the most beautiful smile in the world. All hope of ever being okay with not seeing his face everyday for the rest of her life evaporated with that smile.
"I mean––" she began.
"You said wha' you meant, Red."
"I did?"
"I think so."
He smiled again and she felt part of her brain become soggy. His fingers found her neck again. "You were pretty good in the battle today," He said and she blushed. "I mean it. You were a total bad ass. I'm glad to know tha' you still love a good fight, 'cause we're gonna be doing a helluva lot of fightin', Red."
She nodded. She had figured that much out on her own. Demigods were killing and war. They were born to annihilate their foes…and anyone else that thought to get in their way. Plus, they were clearly trouble magnets. "So does this mean I get my own sword now?"
He laughed, a sweet sound that made her mouth water as he brushed some of her hair behind her shoulder. "I'm sure we could find somethin' tha' would suit you."
She swallowed. "I want one like yours. The bronze one."
"Like Aor?" He chuckled. "You can't have a Summoner, wan."
"Why not? 'Cause I'm a human?" She snorted.
"No. Because Summoners are the weapons of gods." He paused. "And 'cause you're human."
"I knew it!"
"But also," he continued, caressing the back of her neck, "Summoners contain very pure power––the gods' power. Tha's why they choose the guardians of their weapons carefully. Though guardians are typically royals, not every god has a royal child. Still, you have to be strong to have a Summoner because they're kept within us. The power is ours and we can summon it whenever we want. You'd have to be part god to even ha
ndle one and tha's jus' the first requirement. You can have a Morph though."
"Like Bill?"
"A Fauna Morph? Depends on if you find one or not. Or should I say, one finds you. Faunas aren't manufactured by Hephaestus like Gadget Morphs. They jus' are and if it's their fate to end up with you, tha's wha' it'll be. Swindle and Bill…they were meant for each other. Bill won't morph for anyone else."
She sighed. "So I guess all that leaves me with is a Gadget Morph."
He smiled. "Already hatin' on the Gadget Morphs, aye? You shouldn't. Gadgets are real sound…and disguisin'. Wha' would you want yours to be? It can be almost anythin'."
"A ring!" She had decided after realizing ankle boots wouldn't make great Morphs. "When I'm wearing it, it's just a piece of really awesome jewelry. But when I take it off, it's a dagger!" She growled the last word making Strafford laugh.
"Okay, Red. You can have wha'ever you want. A ring, it is."
With talk of her future Morph finished, he reached up to play with a piece of her hair as absentminded as if it was his own. He tucked it behind her ear and his fingers grazed her neck again. She wanted to lean into his hand this time, but refrained, scared that he would move away from her if she did. She liked him like this. She loved him like this––so calm and even kind of sweet––different, just like he said he would be at night. She liked having him so close to her. There was barely an inch of space between them and he didn't seem to want to widen that gap, which made him being next to her that much sweeter.
"Your hair is beautiful, wan." His voice was low and throaty.
"Thanks to Crystal Chaos."
"I'll have to send her a thank-you card."
She could barely stand the way he was looking at her. "I thought you didn't like gingernuts." Ace had defined the word for her. Red-head. "I…thought you didn't like me."
He froze. "So not true. I think you're the business. It's me I don't like."
Gods…how could that be? "Well…I think you're pretty great, if that means anything."
"Tha's 'cause you don't know, Red…You don't know what I did…"
Then, as though he had just realized he was actually touching her, his hand fell from her hair. He blinked several times like he had just woken up from some hypnotic stupor and leaned away, putting several inches between them. Looking at his hands like he didn't know where they had come from, he flexed his fingers back and forth until he just balled them into fists. He almost looked like he was in pain.
He looked over at her, and she felt her breath catch in her lungs. Literally, he took her breath away. "Go back to sleep, wan," he said, his voice strained, "An Oracle's mind needs a lot of rest. I'll be outside if you need me. It's my turn to keep watch." He sounded like he thoroughly regretted it and for a minute she thought he would change his mind and stay. But Strafford wasn't going to shirk on his duties, she knew that.
He leaned toward her a bit, gorgeous lips slightly puckered, but after a moment's hesitation, he leaned back and bit his lip. Had he been about to kiss me? It took everything she had not to slip into his lap, trapping him, and assaulting his lips with hers.
Finally, he stood. "Sleep tight, wan." There was a tightness to his tone that was impossible to ignore. "Shout if you need me." And then he was up and out of the room before she could breath a single word.
She sat there like a zombie, pressing her fingers to her lips like he had actually planted a kiss there, waiting for the shivers to stop break dancing down her spine.Waiting for her pulse to stop racing and her heart to stop pounding. Waiting for everything that had just happened to make some sort of sense to her. Waiting to see if he would come back and kiss her like crazy until she called for a truce.
But the whole night passed and he never came.
*****
XIX. Chloe
Spending half the night waiting on a a kiss that never came or might never happen had been a stupid idea. Chloe woke up feeling like recycled garbage, but managed somehow to drag herself out of bed, dress and join the others for breakfast, which turned out to be the leftovers of what they had eaten for dinner the night before. She didn't mind that at all. Swindle was a great cook.
Over Boerewors (the African sausage) and biscuits, she went over the previous night in her head. Once again, Strafford had used his so called shame to keep her at bay. But all he'd really done was expose more of himself to her. He really believed that he wasn't all that and a bag of Ruffles. He'd been humbled somehow, into thinking that he didn't deserve anything he wanted. Not saying that she believed he wanted her. Gods, no. A Prince deserved a Princess, and that, she was not.
Still, they could be friends, right? And friends took care of their friends. Friends looked out for each other and helped one another through their problems.
Oh, who in the world was she fooling? Only friends with Strafford Law? With the way her heart thudded every time he was around? Puh-leeze. She'd never survive it. Just the thought of it was heartbreaking. And the idea that those pierced lips of his could possibly belong to some other girl…
It wouldn't work out. Bottom line.
An Iris Post had arrived while she was still sleeping and they had waited for her to wake before opening it. They let her have the honor because it was from Hector and Theseus.
With news of her family.
Chloe and the rest of you,
It's Hector. We're here in Adel, sitting on your roof, glad that we're sons of Apollo and can absorb sunlight to keep from freezing to death up here. Why the hell is it still so cold in Georgia? Ain't this the south?
Honestly, we can't say that we miss you guys. It's quiet here and there's nobody here to order us around (No offense, Your Highness). It looks like little Benjamin goes back to school tomorrow and Theseus plans on disguising himself as a school janitor so he can stay close to him. I'm staying here with your mom, but you would think that I wouldn't need to with all the cops going in and out. Your disappearance is a big deal in this little town. There are flyers offering rewards everywhere and we watched the news through your neighbor's window. You're still the top story even after all this time. The news makes your mom sad so the TV stays off most of the time. She spends her days in bed, drinking cup after cup of coffee, and when the night comes, she's so wired that all she can do is pace her room. When she finally cries herself to sleep, it's in your bed. All in all, she's not doing too good, but she's safe and I'm sure that's what's most important to you.
We've been sleeping in the big oak tree outside your bedroom window. It's not very comfortable, but the ground is too cold and hard and the roof is too drafty. We only use it to keep a look out for trouble. Otherwise, we're good. I don't think the Bane witch is coming here. Not after she lost so many siblings at the Chateau, but we're prepared if she does. Your family is safe with us.
I'll write if anything new happens.
-Hector-
It made her feel a mixture of joy and sadness to read about her family. Things didn't seem to be going so well for them, but at least they were safe and sound, and that was the most important thing. She just wished she could somehow let them know she was okay. But Strafford was still set against it, stating again that when the time was right he would take her to see them himself. Her hopes were not high that this time would ever come. This was a dangerous world she was a part of now. She didn't expect to see her family for a very long time and that made her heart ache like crazy.
"Hector talks like he's been with them for days," she said, "They only left yesterday."
"Time passes slower here, Chloe," Swindle said. "One day here could be a week in the mortal world. The passage of time depends on the mood of the gods and their moods change like the wind. Ha! Their moods do change the wind."
That didn't help her to feel better at all. She had probably been gone from home much longer than she'd initially thought. Her heart filled with guilt and sadness for her family.
"Everythin's gonna be okay, Red."
She looked up and met Strafford's st
are. Beautiful. Memories of the night before flashed in her mind and the corners of his mouth raised in a knowing kind of way. Avoiding reading too much into that smile, she returned it. She felt better, she really did. She believed that everything was going to be okay, just because he had said so.
They didn't leave anything behind in the cottage as they set out for the day, so their backpacks were pretty full. They disguised themselves with hats and sunglasses so she wouldn't be recognized and Strafford wouldn't have to use sun rays to blind people, not that she would've minded watching that awesomeness go down again.
They didn't take any back streets this time, and Chloe took advantage and did a little sight seeing. New Elysium was glorious. Castles sat next to temples, temples were erected next to skyscrapers, skyscrapers towered over the bustling agora, which wasn't too far from a string of pub-like symposiums that each admitted a certain clientele. Signs hanging above them read things like, Men from the 13th Century. Immortals that only pay Homage to Hera. I'm in love with a Sea Nymph. Courtesan Castle Owners. It was crazy!
They walked through Effigy Square, a culdesac of statues displaying the likenesses of the Olympians, minor gods, nymphs and beasts; and down Temple Row, a spotless street paved white where a temple dedicated to each Olympian had been erected. Swindle stopped to pay homage at the white marble monument to Hermes and Strafford gave Ace one of his engraved daggers to offer to Apollo. He adamantly refused to pay homage himself, but Ace seemed delighted to be the one to do it, so everything worked out.
Finally ditching their disguises, Strafford led them into the more deserted east side of the province and they walked along until they stopped in front of what had to be the tallest skyscraper in the city. Literally, it stood so tall, the top of it disappeared into the clouds. The sign above its entrance read, The Neverending Tower. Strafford stepped right up to the sliding doors, but she and Dropper were the only ones to follow. She turned back, confused, wondering why the other two were just standing there looking horrified.
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