Servants of Fate

by Wendy Sparrow

  “Two more days of the Fates interfering, you mean?” He was going to give up his immortality. Nothing could happen to Lacey.

  Lacey’s hair fell down around the two of them, brushing his cheeks. “Yes.” Her voice lacked conviction though.

  “I hope I don’t get tired tonight.”

  “Because it’d waste the hours we have left?”

  He frowned at her. “No, because it’s harder to protect you while I’m sleeping.” He lifted his head and kissed her softly. “I know what I’m doing... and you should too.”

  There was a flicker of worry in her eyes, tightening them at the corners. “Come on. Let’s get up and get breakfast.”

  He wanted to keep her in bed and prove to her that he meant what he said, but there was an ice in her demeanor that warned she might not be as amicable about spending the day that way.

  She seemed to grow more pensive as the day progressed.

  Over dinner, he found himself in the strange position of wanting to cheer up another being. “Do you like dancing?”

  “What?” She was toying with her food, barely eating.

  “They have dancing in the ballroom tonight. Do you enjoy dancing?”

  She met his gaze. “I thought you’d want to finish reading that book?”

  “We both know I was right when I guessed it.” Even if he hadn’t flipped to the end to confirm it late last night after she’d fallen asleep, he knew he was right. They always gave it away too early in Lacey’s books.

  “So, you want to go dancing instead of reading or watching TV?”

  “If it makes you happy, I will.”

  Her immediate smile sent a burning sensation buzzing in his chest. If she was happy, it made him happy. It was that simple. It’d never been as simple as that. Nothing could happen to Lacey. “Are you any good?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve done it before. I don’t spend as much time in clubs as some of my brothers, but it was something I challenged myself with a few years ago when I grew bored.”

  She laughed. “Well, hopefully, you won’t get bored tonight.”

  Lacey committed herself to dancing with the same devotion she did most things—wholeheartedly. Many times, he looked around—proud she was with him. Pride was a very mortal emotion. So, was envy. A whole helluva lot of mortals envied him when he was dancing with Lacey. It was like he’d captured wind—she was so full of energy.

  When the night was winding down, he pulled her into his arms and held her through a slow song—with her head on his shoulder.

  “This might have been my best night ever,” she said, her breath caressing his neck.

  “Best? Better than all the nights I’ve been reading to you?” He’d enjoyed both of them.

  “No. Maybe not. That was good too. But, tonight, I felt alive.”

  Withdrawing his arms, he cradled her face in his hands. “Lacey, nothing is going to happen to you. You’ll still be alive for New Year’s Day. Then, you can drive us home in my Porsche. I swear it.” It felt vitally important to him that she believed that... because it was true. He wanted to be sure of that. There was this niggling fear in him that something would happen to stop him—that he wasn’t considering something. The Fates were powerful. If not for his father’s precognition of their plans, Lacey wouldn’t have survived the first day. And now that Tempus was mortal and without powers, it felt like he’d played right into their hands.

  “Tempus, I want to believe you.”

  “Then do.”

  She shook her head and he tunneled his hands into her hair, holding her steady as he pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.

  “I promise.”

  She sighed. “Don’t promise... just hold me.”

  So, he did. All night.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  How could such a perfect snow-shrouded dawn herald the last day of her life? It didn’t seem right. Even the distant gray clouds didn’t detract from the beauty of it.

  “Mmm,” Tempus said sleepily and pulled her back down into his arms without opening his eyes. “It’s too early. Go back to sleep.”

  “This from the man who’s sum total experience of tired is two nights.”

  “I’ve decided I don’t like mornings.”

  She tsked him as she sat up. “I’m sorry. We’re through. I simply can’t be with a man who doesn’t like mornings.”

  “Not if you keep talking that loud. You can be in the other bed if you keep talking that loud.” He was adorable. All grumpy and morning-rumpled. His hair was sticking up in every direction.

  If she died today, hopefully she could take her memories with her because she wanted to remember him just like this. And maybe like he was last night when they were dancing. Also, all those conversations about books where he looked so serious about his opinions. She just wanted to remember him. Forever. If she couldn’t be with him, it seemed only fair that her memories be immortal.

  He pulled her back down beside him. This time, he tugged her body in front of his and spooned his body around her back. “Just sleep for another hour. I swear it won’t kill you.”

  “No. Probably not.” Something else was probably waiting its turn to do that.

  “Stop thinking. Even your thinking is loud.”

  She pinched his arm that was around her waist.

  “Ow. I don’t like that. For future reference, I don’t like that. That’s just painful.” He kissed below her ear before inhaling deeply. “Mmm. I love the smell of peaches. You smell tasty.”

  He knew how to make her blush from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. “Oh hush.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “So, what are we doing today? Ski-jumping? Snowboarding? Bobsledding?”

  He laughed softly. “I’m thinking we play chess or finish reading our book.”

  It would be nice to finally finish reading a book. To end on a note of completion. It’d been forever since she’d finished a book. “I saw a Risk game in the great room. We’d have to get Ruin and Phoebe to play though because two people playing Risk is boring.”

  “How much risk is involved in playing Risk?”

  “None at all.”

  “Sounds perfect. In fact…” He went still. Then, he sat up abruptly. “Hell. Damnation. And hell again.” Pushing to his feet, he didn’t bother dressing—he just strode out the door.

  She stared after him. Well, maybe the morning wasn’t so perfect after all.

  It wasn’t until he was pounding on Ruin’s door that he realized he was only wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants. Two middle-aged women walking down the hall stared at him openly as they walked by. When Ruin answered the door—similarly clad—they both sighed and shook their heads.

  “It’s a shame all the hot ones are,” one said to the other.

  Ruin frowned at him. “I’m not going to do it.”

  “Yeah. Me neither. Wait. What?” This conversation wasn’t going how he anticipated. They obviously weren’t talking about the same thing.

  “What do you mean?” Ruin closed the door slightly, as if readying to slam it in his face.

  “What did you mean first?”

  Ruin raised his eyebrows.

  Okay. Fine. “I just received my soul sacrifice... and it’s not Lacey.”

  “I know.”

  “How?”

  Ruin nodded. “I’ve got Lacey.”

  “What?” He looked in the direction of their room. “You’re not coming anywhere near her.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it—though I don’t know what happens if she gets passed over twice.”

  “I don’t know either.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got Phoebe.”

  “What?” Ruin roared and slammed the door.

  He stood there, staring. His brother had just... freaked out and slammed the door. What was that about?

  “You’re not getting anywhere near her!” Ruin yelled through the door.

  “Wasn’t planning to.” His brother was still shouting through the door when Tem
pus walked off, rolling his eyes.

  When he got back to his room, it registered that, in addition to forgetting his shirt, he’d neglected to grab a key to the door before storming out of it. He knocked on the door.

  Lacey answered, but blocked the entrance with her body. “What’s happened? Don’t pretend that nothing has because you ran out of here like I’d lit your pants on fire.”

  “You’re not my mortal sacrifice for the year.”

  She exhaled and the tenseness in her shoulders eased. “What?”

  “No. You’re my brother’s.”

  “Which one? You kind of have a few.”

  “Ruin’s.”

  She smiled and tilted her head. “Well, I take that back then. Perhaps playing Risk with him would be a risk. So, you don’t have your other powers but you’ll still be able to sacrifice a life?”

  He grimaced. “If you knew the Fates, you’d guess they’d leave us this power. They’re cruel.”

  “I’ve heard that about fate.”

  “Ruin said he wasn’t going to take your life,” Tempus assured her, not that he’d have let his brother do it.

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Yes. We don’t lie.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “To each other, I mean.” He rarely lied to other people either. He didn’t have to worry in regards to lying about who he was, because no one ever asked him if he was an immortal son of Father Time. It just never occurred to anyone.

  She nodded, satisfied with his answer. A warmth spread through his chest. “So, who are you supposed to…?” She dragged a finger across her throat.

  He glared at her.

  She stood to the side and pulled him inside. “Oh, c’mon. Dead is dead.” She rolled her eyes as she shut the door again.

  Her mentioning the word “dead” brought back that ache in his gut that he’d been trying to ignore. He didn’t like many other sources of pain, but the pain that was gnawing inside him was the worst of all.

  “My mortal sacrifice is Phoebe.”

  She grinned. Of course she grinned. He couldn’t ever trust her to do what he’d expect. “Oh, I bet your brother loved that, especially since you went there.”

  “He slammed the door in my face, shouting profanity and threats through it.”

  “Ahhh family. I’m guessing that means even a friendly game of chess is out.” She shrugged. “Well, why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go have breakfast?”

  She was taking the news that his brother was assigned to kill her rather well. “Why?” he asked.

  “Because while it’s not a black tie establishment, a pair of pajama pants is vastly underdressed. Though, if you just added a black tie, people might mistake you for a male stripper.”

  “No, I mean why are you so calm about being Ruin’s mortal sacrifice.”

  She shrugged. “At least it’s not you. I didn’t want you to have to decide that.” She went to turn away, but stopped mid-pivot. “You’re not going to take Phoebe’s life, are you?”

  “Not that my own brother believes me, but no I’m not. I’m done. I’m going to give up my immortality for you—end of story.”

  She sighed and this time did turn away. She walked over to her suitcase. “I’m glad I packed just enough. I’d hate to do laundry today of all days.”

  Her fatalistic attitude made his eyelid twitch. She should know how he felt about her. He’d been obvious. If she hadn’t noticed, it was clearly her fault.

  Time sped up. He could swear it did. It felt like only one minute to the next between when they left for the restaurant and when they finished breakfast. Her resigned melancholy must have crept into him because he’d catch himself thinking, “I want to make these moments last.”

  “How about we go for a walk?” she asked as they entered the great room where the gigantic tree stood, stretching up into the second floor of the lodge.

  “I guess that’s fairly safe.”

  It seemed like it should be.

  It wasn’t. No sooner had they walked outside than a gruesome picture flashed through his head and he dove at her, knocking her out of the way of the long icicle that had just dropped from the roof of the second story. It sliced through the place where she’d been, embedding itself into the snow.

  “A falling icicle?” Lacey asked beneath him. “That’s just too bizarre.”

  Too bizarre or not, that’s what had happened. The Fates were cold-blooded, and they’d been gradually, as the humans say, “upping their game.”

  Lacey wriggled and he was both grateful and sullen over the thick clothes he’d donned to go to breakfast. Stopping, she cupped his cheeks. “Kiss me, Tempus.”

  He brushed her mouth with his—once—twice. “Right here? Right outside this door of the lodge where anyone could walk out?”

  “I think that’s what makes it so much fun. Don’t you think?”

  Hmm. Hard to say... but probably not. Getting to his feet... reluctantly, he pulled her to her feet and gave her a brief hug.

  Dropping her hands, she twined their fingers together.

  “I don’t know that I like others watching,” he said.

  She tilted her head. “I should have guessed that about you.”

  “You’re not really that good at guessing.”

  She ignored that, even though he was right. Lacey dropped one of his hands, but kept the other and dragged him into a walk.

  “We’re still going for a walk?”

  “Of course we are.” She even turned backwards, switching hands. She was walking backwards now? Was she crazy?

  “Do you know how many dangerous things there are out here if they’ve moved on to icicles?” He held up his hand and ticked off on his fingers, “Bears, wolves, cliffs, more icicles, maybe Ruin.”

  Her laughter stopped him. “Tempus! You’re being insane.” Her grin warmed his heart and it sped up. “Live a little.” Then, she stopped in front of him and tipped onto her toes to kiss him again. “You know, when we first met, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d end up being the timid and conscientious one.”

  Sighing, he slid his arms around her. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” Tempus fingered a strand of her red hair. “This used to all be so simple. Now, I’m concentrating on what I can control versus what I can’t. I can control where we go and how much danger we put ourselves in.”

  “Oh, you think so?” She pulled from his arms and ran off the path straight through the snow. Looking over her shoulder, she called, “You’re supposed to be chasing me.”

  She was running, very slowly, through an open field of snow. Even he wasn’t that concerned. It was probably safer than this slippery sidewalk. After the shower near-fatality, you’d think he’d have considered how slippery sidewalks could be. These walks they’d been going on could have been death-traps.

  “Tempus!”

  Rolling his eyes, he started after her, and caught up with her almost immediately. He lifted her off her feet in a fierce, imprisoning hug. “There! Got you!”

  “That’s not fair. Your legs are much longer.” When he let go of her, she held out her arms and fell backward into the snow. She waved her arms and legs up and down.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making a snow angel.”

  Oh yeah. He’d seen young kids do that. He tilted his head. “I think you need to move your arms higher. Your wings look like bat wings.”

  “They do? Pull me up. I want to see.”

  He reached out a hand and hauled her to her feet.

  Looking down, she said, “Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah Batwoman!” Then, she lowered her voice and rasped out, “I’m leaving it just like it is... because I’m Batwoman.”

  He had to laugh.

  She couldn’t die. If she did, it might just kill him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  His agitated attentiveness seeped into her. She’d dragged him to the New Year’s Eve party despite his misgivings but they really weren’t partying.r />
  “You’re making me feel every second,” she said, poking him in the arm. As if she didn’t already know she only had fifteen minutes left. Nothing could dull the tick tock of the day.

  He scowled. “That’s all I can feel. That and Phoebe’s name and location on repeat.”

  “Wait. Really?” Okay, so maybe he had a reason to be so much of a downer.

  He nodded. “That’s how New Year’s Eve has always been for me. The whole day I hear my chosen mortal’s name and location over and over and I feel the weight of every second as it ticks by. I think it’s meant to reinforce the cost of our intervention for the rest of the year. I hate it. I won’t miss this aspect to being immortal.”

  He kept saying things like that, almost casually. It bothered her. He couldn’t possibly give this up for her. It made sense that he wouldn’t want to kill Phoebe, but he’d already made his decision prior to today. How could he choose her over immortality? She’d never meant that much to anyone. Ever.

  “Maybe we should just go back to the room.” If this was their last twelve minutes together... If he changed his mind… She didn’t want to be disappointed.

  “I don’t know. I think...,” and he groaned.

  Behind him, two men were in a loud, drunken argument and it was getting louder. They were both large and one needed a date with eyebrow tweezers.

  “We should definitely go back to the room,” she said after watching the drunken pair. She looked around for someone from the lodge. Mrs. Cowper was looking over in concern, gesturing for her husband to get involved. A few other guests were considering it too... or getting the hell away from the two men.

  “Someone is going to get killed,” Tempus said.

  “I know. They’re getting really angry.” They’d moved on to shoving. Apparently the big bearded guy had been flirting with unibrow’s wife. Unibrow’s wife was backing away wide-eyed while denying it.

  “No. I mean literally. Someone is going to die.” He stepped forward before turning to her and grabbing her hands. “Stay here and stay away from the guy with the beard and from my brother. Okay?”

  She nodded while still trying to process his words.