Strange Fates (Nyx Fortuna)

by Marlene Perez

  “The spell wears off,” I finished for her. “I’ll see you back there in a few minutes.”

  After she left, the naiad appeared, floating on the surface of the water a few feet from where I sat. Her smooth blue skin was barely covered by her long dark hair and the thick necklaces of sailor’s rope, pebbles, and old coins.

  “Eavesdropping, Willow?” I asked. “I wondered when I would see you again.”

  “She doesn’t love you, you know.”

  I tried to ignore the twinge her words caused.

  “What do you know about love?” I asked.

  “As much as anyone,” she replied.

  “A relationship with a naiad tends to be dangerous,” I pointed out. “Not to mention short and painful.”

  She moved closer, until she was barely covered by the water. I felt the attraction and she wasn’t even trying very hard. I was under a libido spell and it was a dangerous time to talk to the naiad. More dangerous than usual. She could suck the marrow from my bones and I’d ask for more, as worked up as I was.

  “And a relationship with this Elizabeth, you do not think of it as dangerous to you?”

  “Of course not,” I said, but we both knew I was lying.

  “Then you are a fool,” she said. She flipped her hair and disappeared back into the water. I stared at the spot where she’d disappeared. She was probably right.

  Chapter Twenty

  Eternity Road was beginning to feel like a home, which was something I’d never had. Working there had the added benefit of helping me look for my mother’s charms.

  Talbot waved in the general direction of the front of the store. “The non-magical items are strictly for the civilians. Your job is to keep the civilians out of my hair.”

  “Civilians?”

  He grimaced. “Those tourists who wander in looking for a cheap present or something to replace Aunt Edna’s china, which they trashed last Christmas.”

  “Oh, those civilians.”

  “Keep them away from the good stuff,” he said. “If anyone wants to sell anything interesting, you find me or Dad. No exceptions.”

  I nodded. “I have no interest in haggling with pixies and hags over their trinkets.”

  The bell above the front door jangled and we both looked up.

  “Your little shadow is here again,” Talbot said dismissively, but his eyes followed Naomi through the store as she tried on a cowboy hat, a flapper dress, and a motorcycle helmet.

  Naomi and I had been spending a lot of time together. We’d had lunch together during the week when I was working at Parsi Enterprises. And on the weekends, she’d been dropping by Eternity Road on a regular basis. I knew I should discourage her, but I liked spending time with her.

  “What does your girlfriend think of your stalker?” he asked sarcastically, but I detected a note of jealousy in his voice.

  “She’s not my stalker,” I replied in a low voice. “She’s my bosses’ daughter, remember? And the girl you are obviously lusting after.”

  That shut him up. I left him at the cash register and walked over to where my cousin was making faces at the stuffed bear.

  “What’s up, Naomi?”

  “You haven’t been at the Y lately,” she said.

  I made a vague gesture. “I’ve been busy lately.”

  She looked around at the store, which was devoid of customers. “I see,” she said drily.

  I shrugged. “Unusually slow day.” Actually, almost every weekend was like that. I wondered how Ambrose could afford to keep me on his payroll, but then I remembered how much he’d wanted for my mother’s lapis lazuli ring.

  “Can I help?” she asked. I couldn’t shoo her away, not when Talbot was giving her that melting look when he thought no one was looking. He would make an ass of himself if I tried a blatant setup, so I’d have to be a little subtler.

  I handed her a stack of vintage fabric, lace doilies, and purses. “Here, sort this.”

  “Have you seen much of Minneapolis since you moved here?” she asked.

  I froze. “How did you know I just moved here?”

  She shrugged. “Didn’t you tell me that?”

  I hadn’t said anything to her, but I had told Sawyer I was new in town. Had they been talking about me? “What about you?”

  “We moved here a few years ago, when my aunt Deci got sick.”

  I froze. “Deci?” I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like the next words out of her mouth.

  “It’s short for Decima.”

  “That is unusual,” I said. “What’s the matter with her?”

  “We don’t know, but it’s possible someone tried to poison her.” Her attention was on the vintage fabrics she was folding, but her hands were shaking.

  “Poison? Who would try to do that?” And who could get close enough to a Fate to try to kill her? Gaston popped into my mind, but I wasn’t sure even he was that psycho.

  “We’re not the most popular family in Minneapolis,” Naomi said. “What about you?” she continued. “What’s your family like?”

  “Dead,” I replied. “My family is dead.”

  My tone convinced her not to pursue the subject.

  “I still think you should have dinner at my house one night. Now go put these on the shelf.” She handed me a pile of expertly folded material.

  I turned around to do as she asked and almost ran into Talbot. “For god’s sake,” I whispered, “ask her out already.”

  “You think she would go out with me?”

  “I’ll close up tonight,” I told him. “Ask her out. Right now.”

  I made myself look busy while they had a whispered conversation. Naomi nodded and Talbot beamed. They were perfect together, if they didn’t kill each other first.

  Could I really trust my cousin not to run home to Mommy Dearest and tell her where I was? Maybe I was being foolish, but I did trust her. It wouldn’t be because of her that the Fates found me.

  I had a cousin I truly liked, a friend I was starting to count on, and a girlfriend I might possibly even love. But if I didn’t figure out where my thread of fate was before my aunts did, it would all get taken away.

  Talbot and Naomi left hand in hand at around five and not one person stepped into the store after that.

  I amused myself by having a one-way conversation with the stuffed bear.

  It was about five minutes to closing when the bell above the door jangled loudly. I jumped and I swear the bear snickered.

  He wore a tattered black trench coat, a mangy fedora pulled down low on his head, and a hand-knit scarf wound tightly around his neck. Actually, I wasn’t absolutely positive that the figure was male after all. It was hard to tell by the way he or she was dressed, but something about the figure’s posture suggested male to me.

  The skittish way he walked around the store set my already frayed nerves on edge. I assumed that he was homeless and had come in to get warm.

  “We close in five minutes,” I said shortly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  He reached a hand into the voluminous pocket of his coat and placed a small object on the counter. “How much will you give me for this?”

  An emerald frog gazed up at me with ruby eyes. From my mother’s necklace, I was sure of it.

  I resisted the urge to snatch it up immediately, but my hands shook with the effort it took to restrain myself.

  “Where did you get this? Did you steal it?”

  “If you’re not interested…” A hand reached out to take back the item.

  I gripped his forearm tightly to stop him from pocketing the frog, and to keep my mother’s favorite enchantment from disappearing. “I’m interested. How much?”

  He cringed and I realized he was frightened so I let him go. He tripped over an old steamer trunk in his haste to get away. His hat fell off and revealed an older man with salt-and-pepper hair. He turned his head quickly, but not before I saw what he’d been hiding.

  It looked as though someone had taken a
hot iron to his face, puckering the flesh on the left side but leaving the right intact. He had been a handsome man once. He smelled of cheap whiskey and long-held regret. He could have been one of any number of the ubiquitous homeless inhabiting any urban area. There was something familiar about him.

  “Do I know you?”

  He shook his head. “I very much doubt it.”

  A stranger who only looked familiar, then.

  I helped him up. His hands were soft, without any calluses or rough spots that would mark him as a laborer. His clothes, although foul smelling and ragged, had the look of custom tailoring. A wealthy man fallen on hard times or simply someone who was allergic to physical work?

  “I was a doctor once,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  I arched an eyebrow. “What happened? And how did you get this frog?”

  He put his hat back on and tied the scarf more securely around the lower part of his face. “She asked me to give it to you,” he muttered. “You must keep it from them.”

  “Who asked you to give it to me? From whom? Who should I keep it from?”

  He stared at me like I was stupid. “The Fates, of course.”

  “What did you say?” Who was this person and how did he get my mother’s favorite knickknack? Maybe it wasn’t just a knickknack. Maybe it was what I’d been looking for my whole life.

  I advanced toward him and he stumbled and fell again.

  I held out my hand, but he ignored it and got up slowly and painfully. “This was a mistake.”

  I gave him all the cash I had in my wallet. “Take this. Please.”

  The bell above the door rang again and I turned instinctively, but there was no one there. When I turned back around, the man was gone. The emerald frog, however, was on the counter. I picked it up and turned the emerald figure onto its back. There it was, etched into the gem. My mother’s curlicue F. For Fortuna.

  Had I found my thread of fate? I’d searched all over the world for it and then a stranger walks in the pawnshop and hands it to me? It seemed too coincidental to be believed. But he said he’d known my mother.

  I added the frog to the chain around my neck. My hands shook as I returned it to its place. I waited, but I didn’t feel any different. I touched the empty links where the remaining charms should be.

  “Four more,” I said aloud. “I’ll find them.”

  I locked up for the night and went to my little apartment above the pawnshop. I lay in bed and tried to read, but my mind kept going back to the man and his strange behavior. I punched the pillow half the night. When I did finally fall asleep, the stranger’s face followed me into my dreams.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I reported back for work at Parsi on Monday. None of the Wyrd Sisters or Sawyer made an appearance, though. It seemed as though the HR manager had tattled on me or something, because the whole place was on lockdown. I was beginning to think my fake job was a waste of time, and being friendly around people I hated was wearying.

  I was exhausted by the time I made it home. I’d just cracked a beer when there was a knock at the door and Ambrose’s face appeared in my doorway.

  “How are you settling in?” he asked.

  “Not much to settle.” I gestured around the room.

  “I think we have a dining room table and chairs in the storage room. You can have them if you can find them,” he said.

  “Great,” I said.

  “I’ll show you where we keep the furniture,” he said. We headed down to the basement and he unlocked a double door. We stepped inside a room that was crammed with stuff. His storage room was a treasure trove. I scooped up a threadbare velvet Victorian fainting couch, a rickety table and chairs, and even an old record player.

  “You’re sure it’s okay if I take all this stuff?” I asked Ambrose.

  He gave me an amused look. “It’s just been sitting there, gathering dust. Of course I’m sure.”

  “It’s amazing,” I said. I picked up a windup merry-go-round and turned the knob gently. Tinny music came on as the tiny horse went up and down.

  “I never throw anything out,” he said. “You never know when you might need it.”

  “How do you find anything in here?” I asked.

  “Believe it or not, it’s organized. This area, for instance, is where I keep the good stuff.”

  “Antiques?” I spotted a Victorian wheel of fortune and an old pinball machine.

  He shook his head. “The fun stuff. Help yourself to whatever you’d like, but you must return it if you move out of the apartment.”

  “Deal,” I said. I spotted a red-and-chrome table and chairs from the fifties and added them to my pile.

  I noticed rows and rows of carved shelves, filled with old books.

  “You have enough books to stock a library down here,” I commented.

  “You like to read? Take what you like,” he offered.

  I did like to read. I spent a lot of time alone and television, although fascinating to me from a technical standpoint, didn’t hold my interest for long.

  Ambrose pointed to a small bookshelf. “Take that, too.”

  We carried up the pinball machine, a box of books, and the Victorian wheel of fortune on the first trip, and made a second trip back for the table and chairs.

  He looked around. “This place doesn’t look so bad now.”

  “Not bad at all,” I said. In fact, it felt like home. “Want a beer?”

  He took out a silk handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Yes, please,” he said. “Hauling furniture up three flights of stairs is thirsty work.”

  I opened the fridge while he peered in over my shoulder. “Not much in here.”

  I handed him a cold bottle.

  “I’m starving,” Ambrose said. “I know a place that makes a great burger. And they deliver.” He took out his cell and placed an order, then popped the top off his beer and took a long swig.

  “How long have you lived in Minneapolis?”

  He gave me a mischievous glance. “Long enough.”

  “You’ve gone out of your way to be nice to me. Why?”

  He hesitated. “I have a personal interest.”

  All my senses went on alert. “In me?”

  He nodded. “I was like you once. Young and alone.”

  His words held a ring of truth, but it just made me more paranoid. I cleared my throat. “I appreciate it.” I did, even if I didn’t entirely trust it.

  Our burgers arrived and we sat in the kitchen to eat. Ambrose barely waited to unwrap the burger before he tore into it. His teeth ripped into the meat, and I realized he reminded me of something. In Germany, I’d spied a wolf hunting in the dead of winter. Aging and battle-scarred, the animal had stood over his kill with the same ferocious stare as Ambrose’s.

  “Talbot is a sensitive boy and he doesn’t make friends easily,” he said. “I had hoped he had confided in you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “About?”

  “That girl,” he said, spitting out the words, along with a chunk of burger. “Naomi. She is nothing but heartbreak for my son.”

  I didn’t comment. His stare grew in intensity. “Has he said anything to you?”

  I deflected the question. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You haven’t touched your burger.”

  I bit into it and delicious hot cheese lava singed my tongue. “Cheese in the burger,” I mumbled. “Nice.”

  “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about Talbot and a daughter of Fate?” Ambrose continued.

  “I don’t know anything about Talbot and some girl,” I replied.

  He frowned and went to the fridge for another beer. “It’s reached my attention that the Fates are looking for someone,” he said casually.

  I nearly choked on my burger. “Someone?”

  “Or something,” he replied. “A Tracker came into the store last week.”

  I pretended a calm I didn’t feel. “A Tracker?”

  “He
was looking for someone. Someone very special.”

  “And?” My meal sat heavy in my stomach and I had to fight the urge to throw up.

  “Do you still claim you don’t know anything of Talbot?”

  “I can’t tell you anything about Talbot and his love life.” He was talking about Talbot’s obvious crush on my cousin, but I wasn’t going to be blackmailed into selling out my only friend. Or my cousin.

  Ambrose harrumphed a bit, but seemed to realize he wouldn’t get anywhere. His eyes weren’t unkind when he looked at me and said, “I don’t think the Tracker will be back. He seemed to believe me.”

  I released a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

  “You can come to me if you are in trouble, Nyx,” he said.

  “I don’t know anything about a Tracker,” I lied. I needed to handle the Gaston situation on my own. “But thanks.”

  “Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked. “I thought you might have remembered something about your attack.”

  “I know who attacked me,” Ambrose said casually.

  “You do?” I was floored. He’d never given any indication that he knew any more than I did. “Who?”

  “It is being taken care of,” he said. “I want you to stay out of it. Both you and Talbot.” His teeth gleamed long and white when he smiled.

  I kept my mouth full so I didn’t have to answer. His voice had dripped acid. There was definitely history there. Ambrose sounded like he would make whoever had attacked him pay.

  “I heard the Fates were having problems. That someone tried to poison Deci.”

  “Interesting.” His face went blank.

  “What have you heard?”

  He hesitated. “Nothing concrete,” he finally said. “They want information about you, of course. But there seems to have been a shift of power recently. Their powers are waning as another’s gains ascendancy.”

  “Why should I care?” I asked. I wasn’t particularly attached to my aunts, but the notion that there was a faceless, nameless sorcerer or witch waiting in the wings to snatch their power didn’t set right with me somehow.

  “I had thought you were fond of Naomi,” he replied. “Despite your unfortunate history with the Fates.”