Servants of Fate

by Wendy Sparrow

  As Tempus approached the two men, everyone around breathed a sigh of relief that someone was handling it. Everyone but her. What was he doing? He was mortal. He needed to stay away from them.

  Hell! The bearded, mutantly-huge guy had just pulled out a knife. Everyone but her and Tempus, quickly took several steps back. Unibrow’s wife was crying quietly.

  Tempus held his hands out and said, “Okay, everyone needs to calm down.”

  She was frozen in place. This can’t be happening.

  “I think Tempus is doing well,” said an older man in a long black trench coat who’d come up beside her. “Considering.”

  She threw him a glance, afraid to take her eyes off Tempus and the guy with the very large knife. She was clearly standing beside one of Tempus’s relatives. Judging from his age and the gray strands intermixed with his black hair and beard, this was Father Time. “Oh whoa!”

  That knife-crazed idiot had turned toward Tempus and feinted forward.

  “Your son is crazy.” Tempus was still trying to talk the guy into being rational. She gave his father a frustrated look. “Can’t you stop time and drag that idiot to the police or something? Aren’t you all powerful?”

  The man next to her actually laughed, even though the knife-guy had jumped toward Tempus with his hand outstretched. Tempus dodged it and punched the guy in the stomach while trying to grab the knife, but… Ahh! How did psychos manage to have a death grip on weapons even while drunk?

  “Not everything can be, nor should be, fixed by stopping time. That seems to be a hang-up with my sons lately. They do everything the easy way.”

  “You mean like letting me live? That’s the easy answer?”

  She was working up some righteous indignation on Tempus’s behalf when his father shook his head. “No. I’m proud of how Tempus has grown this year... especially this past week. Look at him now. He has no powers, but he’s still willing to step in.” He winced as Tempus barely missed a jab from the knife. “Well, his right hook was good. I’m proud of that. It’s a shame he hasn’t gotten more practice streetfighting. Perhaps that was a disservice I did to him.”

  Lacey snorted. “Not leaving him to fend for himself on the streets? I think that’s a disservice most parents should do to their kids.” Seriously? He wasn’t going to stop this? “Uhh!” She pointed. The knifing psycho had just nicked Tempus’s arm. “You’re not going to jump in here?”

  “No. He’s doing well. Besides, like I said, some events need to happen.”

  “You’re saying someone has to die?”

  He shrugged.

  She took a deep breath. “Then, take me.”

  “Take you?” Father Time didn’t even glance at her. He was still watching the fight with interest. “Why should I take you?”

  Was it wrong to grab your boyfriend’s father and shake him? “Oh, I don’t know... all the usual reasons. Because I volunteered last year. Because your son shouldn’t have to give up anything because I did volunteer.”

  “Why? Why don’t you want me to take my son’s life instead?”

  Her eyes widened. “He can die?”

  “He’s mortal, isn’t he?”

  She turned fully to him. “No. He can’t. Take me instead. Seriously. Take me. Now.”

  “Again... why?”

  “Why? Because he’s a good person or immortal or whatever. Because he’s kind and sweet and he’s funny and he’s everything.” It was obvious.

  Father Time turned to her. “Why?” And he stared. Straight into her soul.

  She swallowed. “I love him. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? He doesn’t know, but I love him.”

  “Lacey!” Tempus yelled. He must’ve caught sight of them in his periphery. He stopped and motioned her away from his father. “Don’t! Stay away from…!” And his eyes went wide as the knife-guy jabbed forward behind him. A bloom of red darkened his shirt as the knifepoint protruded from beneath his ribs.

  “No!” She screamed and rushed forward and, from behind her, Father Time snapped his fingers. Too late, but about damn time…

  Ow. Tempus looked down at the silver knifepoint and then up at his father. “Pain can be unpleasant.” Around them, time had stopped. Reaching behind him, he yanked the knife out and tossed it to the side. Sneaky bastard—stabbing his opponent while his back was turned. He should stab him while time was stopped. “If you’re here for Lacey, you’re not taking her.”

  “That’s interesting. She said the same thing about you.”

  “She did?” What was Lacey doing? When he’d seen her talking with his father, a sharp pain had resonated through his chest before his heart began pounding. He was trying to ensure that nothing happened to her and she was cozying up to his father? He’d planned that his father wouldn’t get anywhere near her. Of course that was before a knife-wielding psychopath started a fight that had threatened her life. The Fates had one last trick up their sleeves, it seemed.

  “She did. She asked me to take her instead of you.”

  “What? No!” Tempus walked toward them... ow, damn, his side really hurt. “Take me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “Yes. Why should I take you when I’ve got a better offer from a mortal who is supposed to be dead anyway? You’re my son.”

  “Yes, but Lacey... well, just the fact that she’d try and switch places twice now should be enough to tell you. She is selfless and crazy and sweet and... well, look at her. She deserves to live.”

  His father looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Because she’s attractive?”

  “Attractive? Now you’re crazy. She’s gorgeous and it goes all the way through. She’s perfect. She can do more in her lifetime than I could in twenty mortal lifetimes. She’s a good person. She deserves to live.”

  With a sigh, his father snapped his fingers and time unfroze.

  Lacey grabbed him and, damn his side really hurt. It hurt to stand. Tempus dropped to his knees. Behind him, several guests grabbed the now unarmed man. Lacey knelt down too.

  “Tempus. No. Tempus,” she said, biting her lower lip. Tears dropped from her pooled eyes as she grabbed his shoulders.

  Even being like this... hurt... and the world was spinning, but he had to say what he had to say, even as he lay down on the floor. “Lacey. No. Let me.” The faces around were swimming but he could see his father kneeling beside him.

  “Tempus, let him take me instead. I love you. You’re more important.”

  Was she kidding? “No, you are. I love you, but you’re wrong. You’re always wrong.” Why was it so hard to talk?

  Lacey gave a hiccupping laugh. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that... about me being wrong, I mean.” She turned to his father. “Please.”

  “No, take me.”

  His father looked down at him. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “No!” Lacey yelled.

  His father placed his hand on his chest, Lacey tried to shove it off, but he held her back with his other arm. A warmth spread through his chest and the pain receded. Lacey loved him. It was enough. Tempus closed his eyes—then opened them when nothing seemed to happen. If anything, the noise from the room had grown louder.

  Lacey threw herself across his torso, crying.

  Tempus brought his arms up to hug her as he gave his father a questioning look.

  “I took your time beyond this mortal existence,” he explained. “And I gave you a clean slate on this one so Lacey might eventually forgive me for the scare.”

  “What about Lacey?” he asked over her loud crying. He loved her, but she never seemed to be quiet. About anything.

  “She’s in the clear for the rest of your lives. Her balance is wiped out with the Fates.” He got to his feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s almost midnight and I have your brother Ruin to run down.”

  “They’re in a cabin somewhere.” Phoebe’s location had changed earlier today, not that he’d cared, but it had.

&nb
sp; His father laughed. “He didn’t trust you. Little did he know you’d be unarmed in a knife fight at the time.”

  He might have even won if his father and Lacey hadn’t distracted him. In a blink of his eyes, his father was gone. Tempus sat up, cradling Lacey.

  “Lacey, I’m fine.”

  She kept crying.

  “I’ll call an ambulance,” Mrs. Cowper said, pushing through the group circled around them.

  “I’m fine,” he repeated.

  “They’d never get through the blizzard anyway,” a voice said behind him.

  “I’m a doctor.” A man stepped forward, kneeling down next to Tempus.

  “I’m really fine. The knife just tore my shirt.”

  “No! It didn’t!” Lacey said as one of the bystanders pulled her back so the doctor could examine him.

  “Actually, it looks like it did.” The doctor was wide-eyed with astonishment as he lifted up Tempus’s shirt to check.

  “What?” Lacey jerked free of the hands holding her and fell down beside him again.

  Around them, people backed away, giving them privacy. That ass with the knife had sobered up really fast with his knife gone and three men pinning his arms at his sides as they dragged him out of the ballroom.

  Not satisfied with taking the doctor’s word, Lacey checked him over herself.

  “I’m fine,” Tempus said again, hopefully for the last time. His father hadn’t left a scratch on him. Which made his torn and stained shirt somewhat a mystery probably but perhaps it was restoring faith in miracles in the mortals around.

  Cradling his face in her hands, Lacey whispered, “What have you done, you crazy immortal?”

  Tempus smiled. “I think I guessed the ending before you did again.”

  “How does it end?”

  He sat up and put his arms around her. “With you and me. Happy.”

  “Happily-ever-after? I don’t believe in happily-ever-after.”

  He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Well, not ever and definitely not always, but I imagine we’ll manage.” Happily-mostly-after sounded about right. He shook her lightly. “I love you. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  “Me! You’re the one taking on knife-wielding maniacs!” She smiled and he brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. They didn’t look right there, not side-by-side with her smile. “And I love you.”

  Someone started the countdown to midnight in the distance, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was right here. “What do you say we head back to the room?”

  “Ring in the New Year together?”

  “Alone?”

  She kissed him. “I’d love to. That sounds like a very happy New Year.”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Twitter wanted these follow-up books to happen and there is nothing quite as motivating as readers who love your characters like you do. Special thanks to Amalia, Deanna, Judith, Minerva, Britt, John, and Jay.

  Cori Vidae is one of the most incredible people I’ve met in publishing and I’m very grateful that she wanted to publish the full series. Trysh Thompson has been hilarious to edit with, and she was a pro at getting me to go further and quit relying on blinking. Even though people do blink a lot.

  My husband and kids have put up with an absentee wife and mother so that this series could be shared. Thank you for living on microwave meals and walking around stacks of laundry. Living with a writer is such a treat—thank you for your patience and support.

  KEEPING TIME

  Servants of Fate: Book Three

  For those readers who insisted there were more books after Stealing Time. You were right.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ruin hated the years he ended up in the hospital on New Year’s Eve. It should be easier to take the life of someone who was already dying, but being surrounded by others just waiting their turn seemed like a cruel trick the Fates played on him. It reiterated that Ruin wasn’t a benevolent helper every day of the year. He was here. Reaping death among the sick and dying. Someone here wouldn’t see the new year.

  This year, it was Phillip Daniels. Age twenty-seven. Harrington Hospital. Room 318.

  Normally, Ruin arrived early and got the lay of the land, but he didn’t need to on the years where his destination was the hospital. In fact, the less time he spent in the place, the less suspicion he’d arouse. He didn’t even wear his usual dark attire with his black trench coat. It tended to freak out other patients—as if it suggested he was the grim reaper, coming for them. No. Not for them. Just for Phillip Daniels. Age twenty-seven. Harrington Hospital. Room 318.

  As he approached the room at three minutes before midnight, he heard a female voice ask, “Now, Phillip? You want ice chips now? It’s almost the New Year!”

  A weaker male voice asked, “And you won’t grant a dying man’s last request?” Strangely enough, there was a hint of laughter in his voice.

  “Oh, Phillip,” she said with a sigh as she walked toward the door.

  Ruin ducked against the wall just outside the door and she walked right by him, focused on her task.

  “I got rid of her so you could come in,” a voice called from inside the room.

  What?

  Ruin inched closer to the door. He was almost out of time, but there must be another person coming. He waited a whole fifteen seconds. When no one said anything, he looked into the room to find an emaciated Phillip Daniels staring right at him.

  “Well? Hurry up. She won’t be gone for long.”

  Ruin swallowed and entered the room. “I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

  “I’m not. My time is up so you’ve come for me, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

  This mortal was aware one of Father Time’s sons was coming to take his life? That had... never happened before. “What did you want to talk to me about?” From up close, Phillip looked even worse—pale and gaunt.

  “My sister, Phoebe... the one who just left?”

  “Yes?”

  He sighed. “She hasn’t got anyone. She’s my twin and we’ve always had each other and that’s been enough. She’ll be alone. Our parents are gone. I’ll be gone. I’m okay with you taking me... providing you look after my sister.”

  Ruin exhaled. “I really don’t think you know who I am.” It was true that he granted time now and again to mortals who deserved it. It was even true that was why he was taking Phillip tonight to trade to the Fates. Possibly no one was more deserving than his orphan sister of extra time and a changed fate... but that was up to the Fates too.

  “You’re Ruin. Son of Father Time. You’ve come to take my life.”

  Phillip did know who he was. “How did you know that?”

  “Your father came to me in a dream a few nights back. He explained you’d come to take me tonight around this time and that, finally, I wouldn’t be in pain anymore. I’ve told Phoebe that when I pass, I’ll leave a guardian angel to watch over her—so she’s expecting you.” He squinted. “Well, expecting might be too strong a word. If you tell her I’ve asked you to look after her, she might get the right idea.”

  “I couldn’t do that.” Why did he feel like his father had set him up? This was... most unusual.

  Phillip inhaled and shook his head. “I guess you’ve left me no choice but to scream for help and make your job infinitely harder.”

  “What? No.” He looked around. He was in his last minute prior to midnight. The seconds were ticking down. A minute before and up to a minute after. He had to make a choice. In the distance, he heard footsteps. Phoebe was coming back. “Okay. Fine. I’ll watch out for your sister.”

  “From up close? You’ll be her friend? Help her get through the funeral and everything?”

  He licked his lips. He’d never had that much to do with mortals prior to this. Earlier experiences with mortals had given his name, Ruin, its current negative connotation. Maybe times had changed. Maybe he should be spending more time with mortals and his father had used this as a way
of ensuring that. “Okay.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Phillip nodded. “Okay. Do it before she comes back.”

  Snapping his fingers to stop time, he leaned over Phillip and pressed a hand to his chest, pulling his life force from him. There. It was done. He stepped back and snapped his fingers. Then, he sat down just as Phoebe Daniels walked back into the room.

  Phoebe Daniels looked more like an angel than he ever would.

  As she walked in, a long beep sounded just as cathedral bells rang in the distance and all she could do was stare at the outrageously hot guy sitting in her brother’s hospital room. He must have come in just as she left.

  Then, she looked over at her brother and realized why hospital staff had gathered behind her... and what that noise was.

  “Oh, Phillip,” she whispered. It would be just like him to pass when she wasn’t around to force him to cling to life. Her eyes pooled with tears. It was amazing she had any left to shed at this point.

  The doctor passed by her and went to her brother’s bedside. Phillip had insisted it was time. He’d said tonight even, and hadn’t wanted anything to be done about it. The doctor looked up at her and shook his head.

  Minutes went by as people moved around her, giving her room, saying their condolences. It wasn’t until they’d been left alone that she thought of the stranger in the room.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, walking toward him with her hand outstretched. “I hope you made it in time to, um, see him, talk to him, I mean.” She sniffed back tears as he shook her hand.

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Your brother said that I was to tell you he’d asked me to... uhh... look after you.”

  She frowned. That was weird. Her brother had said he was sending a guardian angel, but he wasn’t serious. Maybe Phillip had meant it metaphorically. “My brother hasn’t been entirely... lucid the last few weeks. I’m not sure that he’s mentioned you.” She dropped her hand. “I’m Phoebe. Phillip is,” she cleared her throat, “was my twin brother.”