Strange Fates (Nyx Fortuna)

by Marlene Perez

  “Water?” I thought of the water hag I’d fought in the pool, the troll I’d turned to stone. All from the House of Poseidon, the god of water and sea.

  She held out a shoe box. “That’s not the worst part. Open it.”

  I took off the lid. A human finger lay in the box, nestled in tissue paper like an unwanted birthday present.

  “It’s not Alex’s,” she said. “He doesn’t have a tattoo.” Her voice was shaky.

  Why would someone send Elizabeth her brother’s finger anyway? There was a lot she wasn’t telling me.

  I bent to take a closer look. It had been sliced off cleanly and was almost clean looking, like someone had run it under the faucet before sending it over. There was a tiny trident tattoo on the finger. Jasper. I hoped the owner of the finger was alive, but I wasn’t counting on it.

  Someone was sending me a message, but I didn’t think it was my aunts. Nonetheless, it was a reminder there was no room in my world for happiness, for love, for Elizabeth. But I couldn’t let her go back there, at least not alone.

  “You’ll have to stay with me tonight,” I said. We’d stash the Lexus and I’d ward her house in the morning when she was at school.

  “Don’t sound so excited about it,” she snapped.

  “You haven’t seen where you’ll be staying,” I said. The Dead House wasn’t the Ritz, but it was warm and dry and, I hoped, the last place anyone would look for us.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This is where you live?” Elizabeth didn’t manage to hide her look of horror at her temporary accommodations.

  “Sometimes,” I replied. It had occurred to me that it might not be safe to stay the night in the Dead House, in case whoever had chopped off poor Jasper’s finger came looking there, but I wanted to check it out before it got too dark. The last time I saw Jasper, he was on a bus out of town. He’d come back to Minneapolis, but why?

  We passed by the stone troll and Elizabeth stopped to stare at it. “That’s an unusual statue for a military fortress,” she commented.

  I didn’t want to explain what had really happened, so I shrugged. “Maybe it’s a recent addition.”

  I helped Elizabeth climb through the window I’d used before. The Dead House looked virtually untouched. The bedrolls were behind the couch, and everything was where I’d last seen it.

  In fact, the place looked eerily perfect. In the days since Jasper had left, why hadn’t some other street kid stumbled upon his hideout?

  Something silvery gleamed in the corner of the room. A plastic bag, full of discarded candy wrappers. Jasper had been back there, I was almost certain.

  I walked over and picked it up and then spotted a bottle cap. I started to toss it away, but remembered what Jasper had told me about my aunts’ little manufacturing endeavor and flipped it over to reveal the entwined P and E that made up the logo of my aunts’ firm. Jasper had been here and he’d had company. But who?

  “Did your brother ever mention a friend? Maybe someone named Jasper?” I asked Elizabeth.

  She shook her head. “Do you think it has something to do with the finger?”

  “I think it’s Jasper’s finger,” I said baldly, not realizing how it would sound to her.

  She gasped. “You think the same people who chopped off his finger might have Alex? That something happened to my brother?”

  “Calm down,” I said. “Jasper mentioned that he knew someone named Alex, who volunteered at a food bank sometimes. Does that sound like Alex?”

  “It does,” she said. “It bothered him that he had so much when other people didn’t even have enough to eat.”

  Jasper and Alex sounded like unlikely friends. Jasper was a hustler, Alex a humanitarian.

  Alex’s decision to work for my aunts was even less logical. Even if you didn’t know they were the three Fates, witches of the highest order, the look in Morta’s eyes could turn a man’s spine to mush. So why did he go to work for them?

  I handed Elizabeth the cleaner of the two bedrolls, which meant I ended up with the one with dried blood all over it. We curled up together, but I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t used to being so close with another person. I sat up on one elbow and watched Elizabeth. Was there anything more intimate than watching someone sleep?

  I rolled over and turned my back to her. I didn’t do intimacy. It only got people killed.

  * * *

  I woke up early and nudged Elizabeth gently until she opened her eyes.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked. There hadn’t been any trouble during the night, but I wanted to get out of there and get some answers.

  She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Give me five minutes.”

  There was one person who might be able to help me figure this out, but I didn’t want Elizabeth tagging along, just in case anything went wrong. I wanted Elizabeth far, far away from it.

  We headed for Hell’s Belles for breakfast.

  “I’m Bernie, what can I get you?” A big barrel-chested woman in her sixties stood in front of us. It was the same woman who’d sniffed the air suspiciously the morning I’d put Jasper on the bus out of town.

  She told us the specials and took our order, but before she left, she said, “Buona fortuna.”

  The phrase sent a chill down my spine, but she didn’t seem especially interested in me.

  After the demon waitress left, Elizabeth asked, “Why did she say that?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just an expression.”

  She gestured above my head. The wall behind me was decorated with a variety of horseshoes. “Horseshoes are lucky, and fortuna is another word for luck.”

  How had I missed it? I stared at the wall for a long moment, but none of the horseshoes were from my mother’s necklace.

  “I’ve got something to do today,” I said after we’d eaten.

  “What do you have to do?” Elizabeth asked. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No!” I replied.

  She stared at me.

  I modified my tone. “You have class. Besides, I have a job.”

  “A job?”

  I shrugged. “I got a job where your brother worked. It might help find him. Besides, if I’m sticking around Minneapolis, I need to work, find a place to live, and act like a normal human for a change.”

  Elizabeth didn’t seem to pick up on what I was trying to say. Instead she focused on one word. “If you stay?” she asked.

  “Do I have a reason to stay?”

  She blushed but met my eyes. “Yes.”

  “Then I need a job and a place to live.”

  As I spoke, I realized what I was saying was true. I was tired of running, and Elizabeth was worth fighting for.

  “Speaking of which, I’ve got to go. Duty calls.”

  I dropped Elizabeth off at her place and said good-bye, but before I left I put the strongest wards I knew around her house. There was no way anyone from the water world would be able to get anywhere near her now.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My first official morning at Parsi Enterprises was uneventful. An uninterested office drone by the name of Stan gave me a mountain of paperwork to fill out. I had no identifiable skills, at least in the civilian world. It wasn’t like I could put sorcerer down under previous occupation, so I made up a bunch of stuff. Stan took my completed forms, gave me the ten-cent tour, and abandoned me for the doughnuts in the break room.

  So far, the most ominous thing about my aunts’ company was the high-calorie snack choices, but the day was young.

  I waited until the hallway cleared and went in search of clues about Alex Abernathy. There were no cubicles at Parsi, just shut office doors with name after name, but no Alex Abernathy.

  I found Sawyer’s office and knocked. Nobody answered so I turned the handle. It was unlocked. I stepped in and shut the door behind me. His desk was bare, except for a couple of financial files and a picture of Nona and Naomi.

  The whiteboard behind his desk was covered with a thick black scribble that I realized
was a combination of a magical spell and scientific formula. I whipped out my cell phone and took a quick picture, then stepped back into the hallway to continue my search.

  The placard had been pried off the door of the next office. I tried the handle, but it was locked.

  “What are you doing back here?” a female voice challenged me. I was busted by an older woman with a bad perm and a hideously ugly House of Hades brooch on her dress.

  “Looking for the copier,” I said mildly. “I’m new here, just filling in for Trevor.”

  “This is an R and D facility,” she replied. “You can’t just go roaming the halls. Now get back to your desk.”

  “I thought Parsi Enterprises was a manufacturing company?”

  “Parsi Enterprises is an international conglomerate,” she replied. “And if it weren’t for Sawyer Polydoros, you wouldn’t have a job here. Stop asking questions and get back to work.”

  She marched me back to the front of the office and showed me a door immediately to the right of the reception area. “I’m the human resources manager. If you need anything else, pick up extension six-six-six-six and ask.” Figures that someone in HR would have that extension.

  Back at my desk, I took a quick peek at my phone. I recognized some of the scribbled symbols. The new ambrosia formula? But something was off.

  The phone began ringing before I could figure it out. Answering the phones at Parsi was mind-numbingly dull. I didn’t even catch a glimpse of any of the Fates until almost lunchtime, when Nona came in, along with a frail-looking Deci in a wheelchair.

  Deci and I were face-to-face for the first time. We locked gazes, but I dropped my eyes first. I didn’t want her to recognize me from the burning hatred in my eyes.

  She was sick. I hoped it was slow and painful. I grinned widely at the thought. Nona mistook my glee for genuine friendliness.

  “You must be Nyx,” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you from my daughter and husband.”

  “Mrs. Polydoros,” I said. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

  “Thank Sawyer, not me,” she said, but softened it with a smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, we’re late.”

  The rest of the day passed without incident, but I’d learned two things: My aunts didn’t usually hire mortals like Alex, and they were secretive about what was going on in their research and development department.

  My cell phone rang.

  “Ambrose Bardoff,” the caller identified himself.

  “Ambrose, I was hoping to hear from you,” I said.

  “I think I figured out what they were looking for,” Ambrose said. “Can you meet me at the store?”

  “About an hour, okay?” I asked. Call me paranoid, but I wanted to make sure no one from Parsi followed me.

  “I’ll see you there.” His tone was casual, but I caught an undercurrent of tension beneath.

  When I got to Eternity Road, the door was open but the store was empty.

  “Hello? Talbot? Mr. Bardoff? Anyone here?”

  Something was wrong. I stopped and sniffed the air. It was full of bad magic.

  “Where are you?” I checked behind the counter. He lay there, facedown, not moving. At first I thought he was dead, but I rolled him over anyway and checked his pulse. It was there, faint but steady.

  There was no sign of any injury, but he was out cold.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do?” I said aloud. He needed a healer. Healing magic wasn’t something you learned on the streets or picked up after a couple of classes. My magical résumé was sparse: healing, an ability to manipulate the elements, and playing hell at the roulette table. None of which would help me avenge my mother’s death or help Ambrose.

  I was the son of Fortuna, however, and I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, but I needed my mother’s lodestone.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told the unconscious man.

  On my way out, I turned the sign to CLOSED and put a ward on the door. It wouldn’t be enough to keep away anyone but the tourists.

  The lodestone was the most valuable item I owned, magical or not. If it couldn’t fix Ambrose Bardoff, nothing would. I ran to the Caddy and dug through my duffel bag.

  I started to panic, but the lodestone was there, rolled up in an old pair of my socks.

  I grabbed it and raced back to Eternity Road.

  The ward was in place and Ambrose was breathing.

  “Ambrose, wake up,” I said.

  I tried to remember what my mother had told me about how to use the lodestone, but drew a blank.

  “Damn it! Work!” I shouted. The stone went warm in my hand.

  Minutes ticked by, but finally Ambrose groaned and sat up. “Crude but effective,” he said. “I think you just saved my life.”

  I gave him a hand and hauled him to his feet. “Who did this to you?”

  “I didn’t see them,” he replied. “I turned my back for a moment and then I was facedown staring at the hardwood floor. It was deadly dull until you arrived and shouted my name.”

  “Wait, you could hear me?” Why would anyone attack Ambrose? And ransack the store? Who was behind it?

  “Yes, dear boy, it was like I was frozen, incapable of movement or speech, but aware of my surroundings,” he said. “A most unpleasant experience. It was fortuitous that you arrived when you did.”

  “Don’t you remember? You called me earlier and asked me to come down to the store,” I reminded him. The blank look on his face told me the memory was gone.

  “That’s unfortunate,” Ambrose said. “I have a feeling it was important. I didn’t say anything specific?”

  “Just to get down here right away,” I replied.

  He reached underneath the cash register cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He offered me a swig, but I waved it away. It was a little early for me, but Ambrose had just been attacked.

  “The place stunk of magic when I came in,” I told him.

  He looked offended. “Certainly not mine,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Definitely not,” I said. “This reeked of black magic.” The only necromancer I knew was Sawyer Polydoros, but it didn’t seem like his style.

  He took a long drink of his whiskey. “That narrows it down considerably. Anything else you can tell me?”

  There was a trickle of blood at the back of his head. I hadn’t noticed it earlier.

  Talbot walked in. He saw his father bleeding and jumped to conclusions. He punched me. I wasn’t expecting it and it sent me flying. I landed hard and heard the crunch of bone. He came at me again, but his father grabbed him by his collar and let him dangle in the air before sitting him down hard on a stool.

  “Talbot,” his father said sharply. “You have it all wrong. Nyx didn’t attack me. He saved me. Apologize at once.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. But his eyes told me the only thing he regretted was that he hadn’t hit me harder.

  “Apology accepted,” I said. I held out my hand, but he ignored it.

  “Good, good,” Ambrose said. “Now that you two are friends, I believe I’ll have another drink.”

  “I’m watching you,” Talbot hissed under his breath when he thought his father wasn’t paying attention.

  I grinned at him. I liked him, but he’d taken an instant dislike to me. Nothing, not even a simple friendship, came easily to me. My right leg throbbed from where I’d landed on it.

  “Nyx, my boy, what brought you to our neighborhood today?” Ambrose asked with a warning glance. He obviously didn’t want to talk in front of his son.

  “I was job-hunting,” I lied absently, my mind still on puzzling out the identity of his attacker.

  “Who’d hire you?” Talbot said derisively.

  “I would,” his father said. “When would you like to start?”

  Eternity Road would be the perfect place to search for my mother’s charms. I’d found the coral fish. I would find the others.

  “You saved my life,” he replied. “And
I could use the assistance.”

  I hesitated, but Talbot’s glare was convincing me to take the offer.

  “I have a temp job right now. I couldn’t work here during the week.”

  “We need help on the weekends,” Ambrose said. “Saturday’s our busiest day.”

  “Our only busy day,” Talbot muttered.

  I shrugged. “How about this weekend? I need to find a place to live, but I can start on that tomorrow.”

  “I know the perfect apartment,” he replied. “It’s conveniently located and quite affordable. For the one who saved my life, that is.”

  “Dad, the apartment, too?” Talbot said. “It’s been empty for ages and you promised me.”

  His father cut him off. “Then it’s high time it was rented out.”

  “I’ll take it,” I said.

  “You don’t want to look at it first?”

  “I can’t afford to be picky.”

  He gave me a curious look, but didn’t comment. “It’s been empty for a few months, but it is furnished,” he said. “Although you might want to buy a new mattress.”

  “You might want to ward the doors and windows,” Talbot said. “If you know how.”

  “How would you do it?” I was messing with him. I knew how to ward off most of the things that went bump in the night. Except my aunts.

  “For a sorcerer of your power?” he asked, making it clear he thought my power almost nonexistent. “Sage. Or maybe salt.”

  He went into full lecture mode. I found his pomposity strangely endearing.

  “Which Houses use those?” I asked innocently, knowing full well that none of them did.

  “The House of Zeus is known for very complex protective spells,” he said. “The House of Poseidon uses the power of nature. While the House of Hades prefers the protective pentagram.”

  He didn’t mention the House of Fates, the House of augury, omens, and oracles. The Fates were the ones everyone needed protection from, even if they didn’t know it.

  I belonged to the House of Fortune, which had one member. The House of luck and lost causes.

  “Or maybe I’ll just hang up my antique witch ball,” I said. That shut him up, but only momentarily.