Servants of Fate

by Wendy Sparrow

  She pinched his side—which felt strange. It’d never felt like much of anything before, but it did this time. “And everyone sounds better in the shower, so imagine how awful I really must be.”

  “I can’t imagine.” He rubbed his side where she’d pinched it. How strange.

  Phoebe looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “So, we agree on skipping the caroling? Or we could sit in the back and just listen, but people usually don’t let me get away with that.”

  “They might if they heard you sing.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Anyway, I’ve gotten really good at mouthing words. You know if you just say ‘watermelon’ to the right tempo over and over again it looks like just about every song out there?” She stared at him. “How bad of heresy would it be to sing ‘watermelon’ instead of “Angels We Have Heard on High?””

  “I’m not sure.” He should tell her. And he would. After Christmas.

  “We should just skip it. But we can go to the rest of it.” She scanned the list—her smile growing. “This sounds terrible, but I feel a little like this year is my reward for how crappy last year’s holiday was. I’m not sure if it works that way, but I’ve never been any place like this. With all of the bills I have to pay off after Phillip died—this might be my only chance.”

  “You have bills? Why didn’t you tell me? I have money.” He could have paid them off.

  She wrinkled up her nose. “You already pay for everything everywhere we go—I don’t want to sponge off you. Besides, there can’t be much money in what you do, and you have no idea how much money I owe. Dying young in the U.S. is an expensive thing to do. Then the funeral and casket and so on.”

  He shook his head. Time holders just called whatever they wanted into existence or used the enormous bank account they shared. “I have more money than you could spend in a dozen lifetimes.”

  “Still... you’ve said over and over that we’re just friends. Friends don’t pay their friends’ bills. That’s not how it works.” She held up her hand. “Look, you’ve done a lot for me—you’ve given me more than I can ever give in return. Being in debt is not a big deal. I’d practically be un-American if I wasn’t swimming in debt.”

  Everything she said just caused this strange sick feeling in his stomach. He’d never been sick before. This was probably how it felt—this wrongness. He’d find a way to cancel out her debt before they parted ways. If they parted ways. The reason for doing so seemed less and less important. If she could forgive him for killing her brother, maybe he could continue to see her.

  She nodded, assuming his silence was assent, which it most definitely wasn’t, and went back to perusing the list of activities. He’d sat for hours and hours by her side. He’d memorized her face, the exact shade of her eyes—her sweet smile. He never grew tired of watching her.

  Suddenly she squealed and hopped up and down in place. “Ruin! We’re here. This is going to be the best Christmas ever.” She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I’m so glad you came.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Me too.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Whoa!” she said, shoving herself back against Ruin. She hadn’t been anywhere near the giant metal star that’d toppled off the top of the tree and hit the wood floor with a sound like an axe splitting wood, but still that was incredible and really dangerous.

  Mrs. Cowper made apologies and blushingly said how grateful she was that no one was there as she pulled the sharp point of the star from the floor with a hefty yank.

  “Lacey was right there,” Ruin whispered, looking around. “They’re over there now and leaving. Okay good.”

  “Lacey was almost hit?”

  “Uh-huh. She’s marked for death. The Fates want to collect.” He tightened his arms around her when her knees went weak. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “I can take you to see a mortal doctor if you’re not well.”

  She turned to face him—which put them in closer proximity than normal. “I’m fine, Ruin. It just freaked me out a little to know how close she got. We got here right after the chandelier, remember. I’ve never been this close to someone else’s near death experience. It’s a little—”

  “Unnerving?”

  “I was going to say freaky, but your word sounds better.”

  He frowned at her. “You’re sure you’re well?”

  “I’m fine. At my last doctor’s visit, he said I was slightly anemic and put me on iron pills but, otherwise, I’m as healthy as a horse.”

  He didn’t stop frowning. “As a horse?”

  “It’s an idiom. Horses are apparently very healthy.”

  “Okay. But you’re not alone with Lacey without me present.”

  She bit her lips and tried to look solemn. “In the future when I’m alone with her, I’ll make sure you’re there.”

  He grinned and hugged her. It was so spontaneous... so not the Ruin she met a year ago. It made her feel like a million bucks that she’d helped with this change.

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!” a deep voice rumbled. Santa waved to those gathered. “I’ll be reading a bedtime story and passing out gifts in one hour.” He gestured at the assembled group. “As long as you’ve been good. And Santa knows if you have been. I’m going to go check my list right now.”

  The kids around burst out in squeals and happy chatter as he left.

  “It said on the paper that we’re supposed to wear pajamas to this... as long as they’re appropriate.” She grabbed Ruin’s hand as she turned toward their room and towed him along behind her. It was a sneaky way to hold his hand, but she was willing to be cunning when it came to Ruin.

  When they reached the room, she reluctantly let go of his hand before he did. She didn’t want to force him to retreat.

  “I bought pajamas for this after I read about it online. They’ve got candy canes all over them.” She’d splurged and bought a few outfits. She went to her bag and pulled them out. “Ta-da! Aren’t they cute?”

  “They’re very... you.” He nodded at his small bag. “What should mine have on them?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He went to the TV and turned it on. “I can call things like that into existence. Lately, I’ve just watched for something on TV that looks interesting and summoned it in my size.” He flipped channels with a frown before stopping on a channel showing a Christmas ad for jewelry. A couple was exchanging gifts on Christmas morning. Aww. He got her a ring with hearts all over it and she cried all pretty while admiring it. “What do you think?”

  “I think if I cried like that, I’d look like a mess. You’ve seen me cry. I get all pink and snotty, but she looks sweet. They make a cute fake couple.”

  “I meant the male mortal’s pajamas.”

  “Oh. They’re okay. Pretty boring, but okay.” They were the typical pajamas in navy blue. Every guy in these commercials was wearing them.

  “Boring?”

  “Yeah, you weren’t supposed to notice them at all. You were supposed to get all weepy over how much they love each other.” She sighed. “I swear these ads have my number. My eyes are getting all watery. Throw in kids or a puppy and I’ll be one big hot mess.”

  “So, I should find another commercial for pajamas?”

  “Nah. Go with those. Guys don’t have to get cute when it comes to pajamas. Besides, it took me forever to get you to wear anything more cheerful than black and gray. Candy cane pajamas might be too much too fast.”

  Nodding, he went to his bag and pulled the navy blue pajamas out.

  “Whoa!” She pointed at his bag. “Just like that?”

  He shrugged. “I only brought a bag because it makes mortals take notice when I don’t.”

  “That’s awesome.” Phoebe shook her head. “I would so misuse that.” Maybe she didn’t belong with him.

  She wasn’t going to give him up that easily, of course. Not after all this time. She knelt on the bed beside his bag and looked ins
ide. He had a few items in there—including a wrapped gift, but not enough for the entire vacation.

  “You just reach into the bag and pull out whatever you want? Like Mary Poppins?”

  “I don’t know a Mary Poppins.”

  “But you just pull stuff out?”

  “I can.” She could see in his eyes that he was starting to imagine how she might misuse his superpower. That reminded her too much of his previous experience with greedy humans.

  “That’s amazing.” She pushed up off the bed he’d chosen. “Now I know why you didn’t need a big bag like me. You gave me a total complex about it.” She held up her pajamas again. “But you wouldn’t have seen these on any commercials. Booyah. You’re jealous.” On that note, she went into the bathroom to change.

  “Do you think adults are allowed to sit on his lap?” she whispered.

  “You are not sitting on another man’s lap,” Ruin said. Even the thought of that made him irrationally angry—angry enough to glare at the man in the red suit.

  “It’s Santa. It’s not the same.”

  It was close enough.

  “Wait. Did you say, ‘another man’s lap’?”

  Ruin cleared his throat. “I don’t…”

  She laughed. “You did. You totally did.” She shot him an arch look. “Why, Mr. Angelus, propositioning me in front of Santa and all these kids. You’ve made the naughty list for sure. Tsk tsk.” She went back to stirring her hot chocolate with a candy cane. “Ask me nicely later and I’ll sit on your lap and tell you what I want for Christmas.”

  That sounded pretty damn good. It was a shame she was probably joking. “Okay.” It was out before he thought better of it.

  She stopped stirring and looked up at him. Her blue eyes were gorgeous and in them he saw everything he’d ever wanted. “Don’t tease,” she whispered.

  “Who’s teasing?”

  After holding his gaze for another moment, she sighed and went back to stirring. “You’d regret it.”

  He didn’t deny it. He might. Before he was totally honest with her, it’d feel wrong and nothing between Phoebe and him should feel wrong. She might regret it once she knew his secret and he couldn’t live with that.

  “But you know what? I can wait,” she said cryptically.

  Santa called Phoebe’s name and she got to her feet. Ruin grabbed her hand as she went to walk away. “No sitting on his lap.” He didn’t want to have to punch Santa. Jealousy was an unfamiliar emotion to him, but there was no doubt that’s what he was feeling.

  She smirked. “I’ll fight him off if he tries anything. I had, like, four Krav Maga lessons last year. I’m a lethal weapon.”

  He squeezed her hand before letting go. He loved how she could make him smile—even as he was burning up with jealousy and blindly stumbling around in this confusing relationship.

  When she reached Santa, he handed her a box wrapped in red and had her lean down to talk to him, but she didn’t sit on his lap.

  After she’d returned and sat down by him again, Ruin asked, “What did he say?”

  “He asked if I’d been good this year, and I told him that I hadn’t. He suggested I give back my present but I told him about my mad Krav Maga skills and he said I could keep it just this once.”

  Santa called Ruin’s name. He got up and went to retrieve his gift.

  Santa shook his head when he arrived. “I don’t even need to ask if you’ve been good this year. With that young lady around, I’d be disappointed if you had. Have you picked out something special for her?” Santa asked as he handed him a wrapped present.

  “I hope so.” He’d picked it out in a shop after Thanksgiving. It was unusual for him to buy something, but he did it occasionally.

  Santa nodded and went back to consulting his list of people.

  When he sat down beside Phoebe, Ruin said, “You got us both put on the bad list.”

  Phoebe leaned against him, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “Those are the risks you take when you hang with me.” She shook her box. “Phillip used to hate when I did that. He said he was going to give me porcelain figurines someday and then I’d be sorry. I always told him he would be sorry if he gave me something lame like porcelain figurines.” She peeked up at him through her lashes. “I’m doing better than I expected this year, you know? I thought this first year without Phillip would kill me.”

  Ruin wrapped an arm around her shoulders. How could he walk away from her after New Year’s Eve? He couldn’t. As simple as that. There was no way. “I’m glad.”

  She grinned. “Okay, now open your gift!”

  He removed his arm from her shoulders to do so... which made her frown. He’d have to remember she liked that. He unwrapped too slowly because Phoebe started helping. Either that or she just really liked unwrapping things. It was good that he’d wrapped the jeweler’s box then.

  “Socks?” She held up his snowman socks. “Hmm. Well, at least they gave you a chocolate orange too. Socks for Christmas is like getting underwear.”

  “Is it?” He couldn’t imagine giving her underwear for Christmas and not having it say a whole lot more than socks.

  “Okay, so not at our age.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “At our age getting underwear is probably a bit kinky. Or really weird if it was from... uhh... Santa.”

  He stared at her gift. “If there’s underwear in there, I’m going to be talking with Santa.”

  “Maybe I should wait and open it when I’m alone.”

  “Here. I’ll help.” He feinted toward her box, but she snatched it away.

  “Okay. Fine.” Lucky for Santa, she’d received gingerbread bath gel and a big gingerbread sponge. She held up the sponge. “I’ve always wanted to have a man scrub my back.”

  His choked gasp turned into coughing... which made her laugh. Her eyes sparkled when she laughed. It was probably a trick of the light.

  Jumping to her feet, Phoebe grabbed his hand. This time, she readjusted their hands, twining their fingers together. That’s how they were becoming. More interwoven. She looked askance at him... as if she expected him to protest. Maybe he should, but he didn’t want to. In fact, it made him feel warm inside—like all this time—all these centuries he’d been cold and never noticed. Temperatures didn’t bother him. He recognized cold and he could tell when something was hot, but this heat inside him made him want to smile. Heat had never done that before.

  “I love Christmastime. Christmas makes me feel like a kid again because you’re allowed to enjoy all the simple things again that society expects you to be too mature to even notice. Like Christmas lights. Like that night we went out on your motorcycle and looked at Christmas lights. I loved that.”

  He vividly remembered that night. The cold meant that she was pressed up against his back with her arms tucked inside his jacket. It was a good thing it was cold because he’d enjoyed that far too much—and it wasn’t the lights—though those were nice too.

  “And decorating a tree. Or giving gifts. I like getting gifts too... and you’re allowed to at Christmas without being a greedy monster, but I really like giving them.” She swung their joined hands. “No one is too old for Christmas. I’ll probably still love Christmas when I’m like... eighty. If I live that long.”

  “You will.” If it was within his power, he’d make sure of that.

  “When I’m eighty, you’ll still be…” She gestured at him.

  “I’ll still look this way. I’m ageless.”

  She wrinkled up her nose and nodded, and she stopped swinging their joined hands.

  “That bothers you.”

  She shrugged and dropped his hand as she reached into her pocket for the key to the door. “No, I mean... it is what it is, right? You can’t change what you are any more than I can, and even if you could, you’ve got a pretty sweet gig. No wrinkles. No adult diapers. No ear hair.”

  He could change it, though. Zeit had given up his immortality to be with Hannah, and he was starting to see why he’d do that.
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  As if she was privy to his thoughts, she asked as she opened the door, “Won’t that be weird for your brother who is married to a mortal? And they’re having a baby too. Eventually his wife will be mistaken for his mother or, worse, his grandmother. People will assume his child is like a sibling. That’d be... odd. Then, they’d die and he’d watch generations die all around him. That’d be sad.”

  He almost wished he didn’t have to correct her before he’d had a chance to figure out his own thoughts on the matter, but it was an out-and-out lie if he didn’t... and she trusted him not to lie to her. He closed the door behind them. “Zeit is mortal.”

  “He’s mortal?” Her eyes widened. “So, he... fell? Holy crap, what’d he do?” She held up her hand. “Wait, maybe it’d be creepy for you to tell me. I mean, he’s still your brother.”

  “No, he didn’t... uhh... fall. He chose to be mortal to be with Hannah. He couldn’t have children if he was immortal.”

  She stared at him. “So, you’ll never have kids?” she whispered.

  “Uhh. Not if I’m immortal.” He’d never viewed immortality in this light. It had never seemed negative.

  “Oh.” She took a deep breath and exhaled equally deeply.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked pale like she was about to faint. She looked as shaken by this discussion as she had been by the falling Christmas tree star. “Of course. I’m fine. That’s just…” Phoebe shook her head. “I’m going to go change into my pajamas.” She spun away toward her bag.

  “You’re wearing your pajamas.” Her mood was... interesting.

  “Then, I’m going to go sit in front of the fireplace... where there is no fire…” She sat down in one of the armchairs and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “It’s hard to be pensively staring at a fire when there is no fire.” She gestured at the fireplace.

  “I can start up the gas fireplace.”

  She nodded.

  After the fire was going, he pulled the other armchair closer to hers and sat down. They’d been having a good conversation until his immortality had become the topic. “Phoebe, does it bother you that I’m immortal?”