Servants of Fate

by Wendy Sparrow

  When she walked into the office and saw the somber faces of her coworkers in early December, she knew something had gone horribly wrong.

  They must have elected Candace to break the news. “Becky’s husband killed her last night. Beat her to death. She went back to him again. It’s not your fault.”

  But maybe it was. Maybe if she’d let Tempus kill the old man on New Year’s, Becky would have been the recipient of a better fate than that. Picking up the purse she’d just set down, Lacey walked out of the office. Her walk took her hours with time blipping now and again. She stepped out onto the street and then she was on the other side of it, just as a car zoomed by behind her. That might not have even been the Fates, maybe she was just distracted. She was near a construction site, and then she wasn’t. Wherever she landed, she kept walking, putting one foot in front of the other. Here. There. Wherever.

  Then, she was standing outside her office. Apparently, she’d exhausted Tempus’s limit of saves for the day, so she went inside and faced a sea of sad and concerned faces. She’d been working with Becky for years to break the cycle. What was the point anyway? What was the point of any of this?

  Mira, her boss, suggested maybe it was time for a vacation.

  A vacation. Funny. Where could she go that wouldn’t cause something catastrophic? She didn’t dare get on a plane. “Yeah, okay,” she said and drove home on autopilot.

  Another time blip at a traffic light and suddenly she was home. Her car was in her garage and she was sitting in it with the engine off. And no keys. He’d taken her keys.

  She should be grateful.

  She wasn’t.

  Slamming out of the car, she snarled into the silence, “Oh, just let me die already! Do you hear me? Just let me die!” So she went and took a shower with her clothes on.

  When she emerged, her doorbell was ringing. She opened the door to a very pregnant Hannah.

  Hannah looked her up and down.

  Lacey’s slacks were leaving large puddles beneath her feet as she toweled the ends of her hair dry.

  “Rough day?”

  Lacey shrugged and let the tears streak down her cheeks. “Did you ever wish he’d just stop trying to save your life?”

  Hannah sighed. “Please tell me you have hot cocoa. If I don’t get some chocolate soon, I’ll kill you myself and I know that’s not logical and you don’t deserve it, but I will strangle you with my bare hands and then step on your corpse.”

  “I have hot cocoa.”

  “I love you.”

  Lacey grinned for the first time that rotten day.

  “Do you think she’s helping?” Tempus asked Zeit as he paced back and forth in front of the window. “That was bad. From what I can tell, something happened at work. She was fine this morning. At least she seemed fine.”

  “I’m sure Hannah is helping. Hannah understands women,” Zeit said with his feet propped up on the coffee table as he watched a football game.

  “But Lacey is a lot more complex than Hannah.”

  Zeit frowned at him.

  “I’m not saying that’s good or bad, but Lacey seems a lot less even-tempered than Hannah.”

  Zeit laughed. “You haven’t been around Hannah since she’s been pregnant. She was three different people on the drive here. I wasn’t sure if she’d need an exorcism when we arrived.”

  “Well, maybe she’s not helping then.”

  “Nobody has been thrown through a window. Hannah told me that’s how we’d know it wasn’t going well. I’m not sure if she was joking or not, but it hasn’t happened,” Zeit said as he went back to watching TV.

  That was a vastly overgeneralized way of looking at things.

  “I had to save Lacey’s life twice more after I called you. She just kept walking right into traffic—it was like she didn’t even care.”

  “Maybe she didn’t. Remember I asked you if it’d be easier on her if you’d just let her be taken.”

  “I’m not going to let her die,” Tempus roared.

  They stared at each other.

  Tempus licked his dry lips. “I mean... ever. I don’t think I can give up my life for hers, but I’ll just keep doing this.” He’d gotten that far in deciding things. She couldn’t die. Ever. Not if he could help it. “Mortals live about a hundred years, don’t they?”

  Zeit pursed his lips. “Seventy or so, I think.” You’d think him being mortal now he’d find out.

  “Only seventy?”

  “Plus, you won’t age, and she will.”

  How did that matter? It didn’t matter. As long as Lacey was alive, that was all that mattered. He almost hadn’t reached her one of the times she’d walked into traffic. It was like the Fates weren’t even bothering anymore because she’d gotten so self-destructive. “So?”

  “That’ll bother her—that you’re not aging and she will be. Women are sensitive about that.”

  “Lacey won’t care.”

  “Yes, she will.” He leaned forward and scowled at the TV. “Did you see that? That was a horrible call.”

  “Why do you think she’ll care?” Normally, he liked sports as much as Zeit, but he just wanted to rip his brother’s heart out through his mouth for being distracted. He was trying to tamp it down, but the urge was there.

  “She’ll care. Women care. Hannah was the one who brought it up on the drive here.”

  “You talked about us on the drive here?”

  “Yes. Hannah had to explain to me what was going on because she said neither of us would understand it.”

  He sat down beside Zeit. “But you didn’t even know what happened at her work to cause this.”

  “Hannah said that’s just the last straw.”

  “Why would she care that she’s aging? That’s what mortals do. She’d be aging and I’d be around to ensure she kept aging. She’d rather die than get older? That seems... extreme.”

  Zeit shook his head. “No, the gap between your perceived age and her age would matter.”

  “So, she doesn’t like to be around anyone who looks younger than her because it’ll just remind her of her looming and eventual demise? You’d think she’d hate children if that were the case.”

  Sighing, Zeit said, “At least I understood that part. Look, just trust me, it would matter that you’re not seeming to age but she is... eventually. Not the first few years, but eventually.” Zeit met his gaze. “Hannah and I bought a room for the week at the lodge for Christmas to New Year’s. We won’t be able to use it. I don’t want my wife that far from a doctor’s office that close to her due date. I think you should use it. It’ll give you and Lacey time to decide what you’re going to do.” He tilted his head. “Actually, it was Hannah’s idea, but I agree with her.”

  “So, we’d stay there? Together? Just Lacey and I?”

  “Hannah said it would be like a couples retreat to work on your relationship.”

  “But we’re not a couple.”

  Zeit snorted. “You’re planning on interfering in her life for the next fifty years—I think that’s nearly the definition of marriage. You don’t want her to date, and she doesn’t seem to be doing that—so you’re basically exclusive, as the mortals say. You have to be involved in her day-to-day existence to keep her alive. You’re a couple. You’re fairly dysfunctional, but you’re together. You’re practically married without the actual benefits of marriage.”

  Marriage. The word made him want to scream and punch Zeit. It was like giving up his freedom. If he just planned on being with her—or around her, rather—for her lifetime, the impulse to panic didn’t overwhelm him.

  “I don’t think Lacey will go for it.”

  “Hannah will talk her into it.”

  “You think so?”

  “She’s amazing. When she isn’t screeching at you like a banshee for putting your feet on the coffee table or for your turn signal being too loud.”

  “Huh.”

  “Yep.”

  “Tempus will never agree,” she said as she wra
pped the robe around herself.

  “You know he’s fallen for you, right?” Hannah asked.

  Lacey cinched the robe tight. “What makes you say that?”

  “His panic today. His inability to handle you dating.”

  “I’m not dating.” She’d tried that and failed. Getting Tempus out of her system was impossible. She was terminal with want for him.

  “I know. I figured as much. He called the last time you went on a date wanting my husband to help him find an excuse to get rid of your guy.”

  “I’m really bad at it anyway. He said the guys I found when I tried online dating were serial killers.”

  Hannah laughed. “Yeah. Sure they were.”

  Lacey frowned at her. “You don’t think they were?”

  “He told me he’d already used ‘the serial killer excuse’ to end your dates,” Hannah said, including finger quotes.

  Gasping, Lacey narrowed her eyes. “That jerk!”

  Hannah continued to laugh, falling backward onto Lacey’s bed. “Yeah, the time holder brothers are all devious and clueless all at once. Sometimes, it’s like having sex with a really hot robot.” She sighed. “Wait, did I say that last thing out loud?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pregnancy. I’m not getting enough sleep to stop the things I’m thinking from coming out of my mouth. It’s probably in preparation of pushing something huge out of my body.”

  Lacey held back a shudder. “That’s a charming visual.”

  “I know.”

  Folding her arms, Lacey leaned against the doorframe to her bathroom. “So, you really think Tempus is interested in me?”

  “Interested? When Zeit said he wasn’t sure about us driving all the way here from Boise with me eight and half months pregnant, your time freak said that he would pause time, come get us, drive back here, and unpause time.”

  “Zeit can’t stop time?”

  “No, he gave that up to be with me. He kept his supernatural sense of people needing help, but he can’t do anything magical to help them. What I’m saying is that Tempus was willing to go to crazy lengths because he was worried you were depressed. He’s in love with you—he just doesn’t recognize it and he might not until it’s too late. I swear Zeit had to nearly lose me before he recognized what he felt.”

  Her words made Lacey’s heart pound. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. He’s stumbling through all these strange emotions, trying to figure out how to compartmentalize them, rather than deal with them. I bet if you’d kept dating—he’d have been calling Zeit constantly.” She grinned. “You should have heard how bent out of shape he was about it. It was cute even if it annoyed me at the time because I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him.”

  “He did come over and kiss me after my date. It’s like he was trying to make sure I’m still his.”

  “Hah! I knew it!”

  “So, what do I do?”

  “You go up to the lodge and seduce him.”

  “You mean trick him into giving up his powers and immortality on a chance at a relationship with me?” She swallowed thickly. Saying that out loud... It was an awful lot to ask of someone. “I’m really bad at relationships. I have trust issues that have trust issues.”

  Hannah frowned at her. “It sounds like you need to be seduced in return.”

  “Well, it’s a lot to ask of an immortal. What if it doesn’t work out between us? Then, he’ll die in fifty years after being forced to be mortal, and he’ll hate me. I’d rather die than have him resent me for forcing him to make that choice.”

  Hannah shook her head. “You’re not asking him to give up immortality to date you. You’re asking him to give up his pointless roaming around forever in exchange for your life.”

  Maybe. Reaching over to her bedside, she grabbed her key ring. A whole set of keys saying that no one had cared enough about her to give up their lifestyle for her.

  “You have a lot of keys,” Hannah said, staring.

  Lacey nodded while picking through them until she found one. The hearts she’d drawn on with a sharpie had been rubbed off a long time ago, but it stood out like a black sheep. “This is my ex-fiancé’s house key. He wanted me to give up my job and move to New York where he could get some ritzy high-paying job. He said he couldn’t marry a social worker and get that job, and I wasn’t convinced it’d last between us. I have a hard time believing that of anyone. My fiancé broke it off and married a lawyer. I hear they’re divorced already. She took him to the cleaners.”

  “Sounds like he was a moron. It’s good you didn’t marry him.”

  “Yes, but my point is that he was mortal and knew the score when he asked me to marry him and that lasted five months. I haven’t actually seen or talked to Tempus in six months and we only had a handful of conversations before that. Why would he want to sacrifice his immortality for my life when he doesn’t want to sacrifice his time—which is infinite for him—for a single conversation?”

  “What do you mean you haven’t talked for six months?”

  “What do you think I mean? He saves my life but doesn’t actually interact with me, and I think he freezes time when he leaves his house so that I never see him.” She tipped her head back with a deep breath and willed her tear-swollen eyes to not cry. “I haven’t had a conversation with him since the night of my date.” She sounded on the verge of a hysterical breakdown. Closing her eyes, she drew in some calming breaths. In and out. In and out.

  “So, he’s been saving your life, but not talking to you... ever?”

  “Not for six months. And he doesn’t stick around so I can see him either. Time blips and I’m in a different place with the scent of his cologne left behind and that’s it.” She wouldn’t bring up the imprints she felt of his mouth and hands—that could be her imagination.

  “That bastard.” She heard rustling and a moment later, Hannah said, “Zeit, Lacey hasn’t actually seen your brother for six months. He’s been saving her life but leaving before he unfreezes time. Punch him in the face for me.”

  The roar from Tempus that even Lacey could hear made her grin.

  “He doesn’t deserve her,” Hannah said. “If he keeps that up, I vote Lacey comes to live with us and you try to keep her alive because that’s damn cruel.” There was silence as Hannah waited on the phone.

  Sniffing, Lacey dropped down on the bed beside her. “Maybe this isn’t worth it.”

  “It isn’t the way you two are doing it,” Hannah muttered. Then, she grinned.

  “What?”

  “That is one stubborn immortal you’ve got there.”

  “Why?” And she didn’t “have” him. This whole conversation seemed to be proving that.

  Hannah hung up and turned to Lacey. “When my husband suggested maybe he could take over keeping you alive, Tempus yelled, ‘Over my dead body. She’s mine.’ He tried to qualify it with ‘to watch out for’ after the fact, but it was too late.”

  Lacey smiled and for the first time in a long time, she had hope. “Do you think maybe he’s just that stubborn and he really does love me?”

  Hannah shook her head. “I think he’s just that stupid and he really does love you. Now, the lodge? For Christmas?”

  Lacey bit her lip. It was a risk, but what did she have to lose? “Maybe.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “If I froze time, I could drive as fast as I wanted, you wouldn’t be aware of the passage of time, and other mortals wouldn’t get in my way like this,” Tempus said as he gestured at the road ahead of them.

  Reaching over, Lacey flicked him in the ear.

  “You remember I can’t feel pain, right?”

  “No. And now I’m deeply dissatisfied.”

  “You want to hurt me?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Just let me off on the side of the road and drive the rest of the way by yourself.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because this,” she gestured between them, “is hopeless. You don’t even w
ant to spend time with me. This week should be hell for both of us.”

  “I am spending time with you regardless of whether time is moving forward because time isn’t linear.”

  “Yes, but I’m not actually experiencing it,” she practically yelled.

  Then it hit him, like he’d rammed his Porsche against a wall. “Is that why you’re upset? Is that why my brother punched me? To you, it’s been six months. Wait, you know that wasn’t a dream that night we…” He cleared his throat.

  “We kissed? Yes. I know that was real. You kissed me, bolted off, and then this is the first time I’ve seen you since then.”

  “But I’ve seen you every day since then.”

  She clenched her fists at her sides. “That makes me want to punch you.”

  “If you wanted to see me, why didn’t you come to my house and knock on the door?”

  “The one time I did that, you turned off the lights and pretended not to be home.”

  He turned to face her. “You weren’t coming to get your book back?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. I was in the last twenty pages, and I didn’t want to give it back.”

  She slapped a hand to her forehead. “So, any other time I could have come over and knocked on the door and you would have answered?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been trying to give you your privacy. You said in the car, as we drove away from this place, that you didn’t want to see me.”

  “I don’t want privacy, and I changed my mind.”

  “When did you change your mind?”

  She groaned. “Almost immediately. In fact, I’m not even sure I meant that at the time. You took the word ‘seeing’ as literally, and I meant ‘seeing’ as in spending time together, and I just wanted to know if it was necessary. But you’re the only one I can talk about this with, and I actually like talking with you.”