Fate Walks

by Brea Viragh

  He’d made it a habit to never look over his shoulder. There was nothing good in the rearview mirror.

  It was easier to depend on himself. That way, there was no disappointment. He made his own path, and when the voice in the back of his head urged him in a direction, he followed. No regrets.

  Which was why he never recognized his descent into darkness. Into madness. It happened gradually enough. A spell gone wrong. A misplaced word that caused a spiral of negativity in its wake. It was power. It was life. He’d missed the control in his childhood.

  Until it controlled him.

  When the voices in his head told him he could be bigger, better, stronger, Harry knew he would do whatever it took. And the first order of business was dumping the name, more appropriate on a stockbroker than a budding king among his wizard peers.

  Peers he’d known nothing about for too long. Peers his father had taken great pains to keep out of their lives. Their tidy, pathetic lives were filled with mundane things like reading the Sunday newspaper and trips to the dry cleaner. Such excitement.

  It only proved that power ran the show. It was something he’d suspected since he was old enough to recognize the moldering conditions inside the farmhouse. Back when Harry had just been Harry, watching his father stretch himself thin, a minimum-wage slave while his wife struggled to keep house year after year after year.

  Harry had never belonged there, surrounded by mediocrity and dingy walls Mrs. Dotes had tried to make livable with thrift store finds and layers of wallpaper. He’d never been a part of their quaint human rituals. He’d hated them for their ordinariness, made worse when he realized the spectacular magic he possessed. The way his father hid their heritage, the way his mother was proud when he came home with Bs and Cs—it was disgusting.

  He’d known even as a child; even before his Awakening he’d known he was destined for more. His destiny would not be denied.

  He’d taken what little he could from them, what he deserved, and paid them back by disappearing. Cultivating his power. Searching for more. Harry hadn’t seen his parents in more than fifteen years and as far as they knew, he was dead.

  Inside, he was hungrier, and more determined to feed his appetites. Now he had the means to do it.

  The crows were a small thing, and a way for him to exert his authority. Better to keep the girl on her toes. A nervous woman was a helpless woman, in his opinion. A helpless woman was malleable. Ripe for the plucking.

  His instincts told him that Astix Cavaldi was approaching her breaking point. The surprise? She’d held on longer than he initially expected of her. The One Who Walks in Darkness was becoming restless, thinking he wasn’t making enough progress.

  Most of the details had been left to him, as long as the witch was captured by the eclipse. He wouldn’t dream of contradicting Darkness. It did no good. It only brought pain.

  He’d followed Astix for years, sticking to the shadows where he wasn’t seen. In fact, he’d gotten himself in quite a bit of trouble at first, when someone from the Claddium came sniffing around at an upset in energies in the area. The execs thought they knew what they were dealing with. They thought he was just a stalker. A reckless wizard with no concept of the world.

  They had no idea the scope of the larger picture.

  This wasn’t just magic. This was elemental.

  He remembered his first encounter with The One Who Walks in Darkness. There had been whispers once he left home. The kind of whispers no one could confirm or pinpoint their source, that a formidable entity had risen. Whispers of power. Of incomprehensible magic from beyond the veil. He had initially dismissed the idea, thinking it was those who had embraced dark magic angling for a shift on the streets. They were raving lunatics. Yet…

  He’d followed the trail, his ears pricked for anything out of the ordinary, hoping it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Others went ahead of him and more came behind him. Searching for something bigger than themselves. Harry wanted control, to feel just once like he was the dominant one. He wanted it in the same way teenage boys wanted their first taste of sex. With lust and greed and desperation.

  A niggling voice inside of him insisted there was something to the whispers. So he went deeper into the darkness and found a goddess. Yes, there were those ahead of him and those behind him. But she chose him. The journey was worth his time, his wildest dreams, promising power the man wearing his face could only dream about. The price? He didn’t recognize the face in the mirror.

  He did what she asked because he wanted to. Because he had no choice. He found in his experience that a little cooperation went a long way. It stung to know she had little faith in him to get the job done, considering their years together, how he’d helped her when she was nothing but a faint tint in the back of his mind. Years of planning and waiting for the right moment, the moment she grew stronger. He was confident that after the eclipse, he would be richly rewarded. He would hand over the girl and gain his freedom. Freedom, yes, along with the power he’d accumulated.

  First, he needed to navigate the maze in front of him, and apply the right amount of pressure to ensure disaster.

  He walked down the corridor of the rented apartment one block perpendicular from Astix’s house. The chain on his wrist bit down when he slipped on a jacket. A chain attached to the death runes on the Cavaldis and their children. All except one.

  He caught his reflection in the window, his dark hair knotted and shot through with streaks of white. The price his body paid for its dark passenger. He left it long and hanging around a square, ruddy face. His features were nothing short of average. Blocky. His mouth thin and lipless.

  His marginal looks meant it was easier for him to slip unnoticed through a crowd. If his parents were still in the picture, they would not have recognized him.

  It’s time…

  As usual, the voice wound through his brain and burned along his synapses. He pushed aside all thoughts of his past, keeping any response locked in his throat.

  Harry Dotes was dead. But Herodotos was very much alive.

  **

  “If you want to succeed, now is the time to make an effort. Leo? Are you listening to me?”

  Leo forced his attention to the task, reprimanded by the snap in his father’s voice. “Of course.” When the older man remained silent, Leo sighed. “Of course, sir.”

  “Then let’s pick up where we left off,” Orestes responded. “The report.”

  The man sitting behind the desk regarded his son calmly through a pair of black wire-framed glasses. The serious, severe cut of his hair did nothing to lessen the impact of his blue eyes. It also did nothing to soften his implacable demeanor and the sharply pressed lines of his dress shirt, pants, and tie. His features were fierce and unyielding.

  “The report?” Leo asked.

  It was another boring day at the office. Magical mayhem never took a break. One would think with the eclipse only two months away things would have been a little more exciting. Rogue magic on the street and all. Instead, Leo was stuck with budgets, budgets, and, for a change of pace, budgets. Made all the worse because his father was breathing down his neck. Orestes Voltaire needed everything in its place. Then double- and triple-checked.

  “Tell me what I just said.”

  “You said there need to be stricter protocols in the Lake Districts.” Leo crossed his fingers. That was the last thing Orestes had been blathering on about before he’d tuned out.

  Orestes stood close, his fingertips grazing the report on the desk and his eyes on his son. Leo considered it a kind of test. For both of them.

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What else was on the report? I know you read it. I left it on your desk last week.”

  “You mean I actually have to do work when I come here?” If he’d wanted the joke to make his dad smile, it would be a long wait. “Yes, I read it. Too dry for my taste.” He edged past Orestes. “Don’t we have more important things to focus on than a rep
ort?”

  Orestes followed him out the office door. “Such as?”

  “We’re not that far away from the eclipse. Why don’t we worry about the people who are being affected by the veil thinning?”

  “We have more pressing duties, Leo.”

  The annoyed sigh slipped through his lips before he could stop it. “We have dead bodies, Dad. We have regular people with diluted bloodlines who aren’t equipped for the rogue magic slipping through. We need to be out on the streets finding these people and helping them while we have the chance.”

  “You know I’m concerned. However, there isn’t much I can do. These humans will either find a way to deal with their magic, in which case we step in, or they will die.”

  “Wow. I never thought I’d hear you admit how callous you really are.”

  Orestes didn’t seem any happier about their impromptu meeting than Leo was himself. Somewhere deep inside, Leo knew he’d stopped feeling bad about disappointing his father. His concern, it appeared, was nothing but a disappointment.

  “What do you want me to say, Leo?” Orestes asked, glaring at an aide until she sidestepped out of his way. “Helping a handful of humans doesn’t take away from the thousands of other issues I deal with. We have people for that.”

  “Then get them on it. Or better yet, let me.” He was itching to get out there and actually do something. It sure beat sitting at a desk and spinning his wheels on his father’s shitty reports. It sure beat scouring old cases and being sent on observation detail.

  There were real people out there who needed help. It seemed that none of the brass were troubled. The thinning of the veil and the eclipse were on everyone’s minds, he knew. It was impossible not to be worried. Instead of focusing on the damn Harbinger witch, they should focus their attention on the here and now. The bizarre events popping up as they spoke rather than what-may-be.

  “Absolutely not,” Orestes answered.

  Leo gritted his teeth, jaw flexing. “And why not? Or don’t you want me asking?” he said, voice tight with control.

  “I’m not going to dignify your tantrum with an answer.” Orestes was cool as ever. “You have duties, and it’s better for you to focus on them than trying to fix problems that are larger than you. Larger than the scope of what the Claddium is prepared to handle.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t all about revenge on Thorvald Cavaldi?”

  Leo watched his father’s face darken. “This is not about him. It never has been.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “Enough. I’m not willing to discuss this with you further. The report.” Orestes slapped the folder he still carried against the back of his son’s head. “You’ll do what I tell you to do. No more dividing your attention when I need you focused. Do you understand?”

  “No,” Leo breathed.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  They were approaching the front door when the remnants of a powerful magical signature assaulted their senses. “What the hell is happening?” Leo clutched his ears, tension snapping from one temple to the other.

  “The girl.” It was the scariest smile he’d ever seen on Orestes’s face. The kind where there was something behind the eyes, but it wasn’t happiness. “She made a move.”

  “Astix?”

  “The Cavaldi spawn.” Orestes closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “Go see what she’s up to.”

  “Oh, now you’re ready to send me out.” Leo rolled his eyes when the energy signature faded away. He eased his back against the wall as Orestes opened the door and cold winter light filled the lobby.

  “Whatever stunt she just pulled, it was big.”

  “Blowing up a city block big?”

  “Leonidas, do your job. Now.”

  Leo pushed away from the wall and tightened his coat. “With pleasure.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Did you follow me here?” Astix felt the telltale tickle in her throat, the one that presaged a panic attack. She purposely slowed her breathing, holding the air inside her lungs for the count of five before releasing.

  She glanced up, up, up until her eyes met Leo’s and the smile he had waiting for her.

  “Me? I would never!” His laugh came quickly. Low and rich.

  “Somehow I don’t believe you,” she muttered.

  “I needed to know if you were okay.”

  Slightly dazed, she nodded. “Let me guess. You still have the obsidian?”

  Leo grinned and eased lower into the booth. “What if I do?”

  “You just can’t help yourself.”

  A server made her way over to Leo with a cup and a carafe full of coffee. He sent her an appreciative grin before pulling the container of sugar over. “What are you going to do to me? Punish me for it? I’m intrigued by the idea, I admit.” He took up a spoon and stirred it around the inside of his coffee cup with a clink. “Besides, it gave me a good excuse to see you again. I won’t take punishment off the table. Not if you’re into that sort of thing.”

  There was something disgustingly attractive about Leo, Astix thought. Perhaps it was his confidence, the way he carried himself, like a man who knew his own worth. Then again it could have been his perfect skin. His long, golden-tanned fingers. Or those penetrating eyes—so deep she could lose herself for days staring into them.

  He looked especially good today. With the hint of sunshine and a slightly warmer breeze, he’d eschewed the outer coat and scarf. Instead, a warm sweater in an odd shade of burgundy clung to his muscles and played them up. Astix knew Leo had the attention of every woman in the diner without even trying.

  Astix took a sip of her coffee. The bitter liquid seared a path down her throat as the ghost of regret tugged at her. She’d known the stop at the diner would be disastrous in some way or another. Why hadn’t she listened to her gut?

  “Was there a reason for this visit?” she asked, frowning. “It’s not like I invited you.”

  “I can’t get enough of you. I’m a fan,” he explained with a chuckle.

  “My music?”

  “You in general, it seems.”

  Her head spun from his nearness, changing the air around her. She couldn’t keep up. It almost—almost—sounded like the man was hitting on her. Which didn’t make sense. She wasn’t the type of woman that men hit on, particularly wildly attractive, wildly off-limits men.

  “You’re butting in where you aren’t wanted. I don’t need your concern.” Astix felt her body hum to life—vibrating from the heat of him. Close. His head tilted toward her and her brain screamed at her to leave. To walk away. To do something other than stare at him like a fool.

  She was too much a fool for her own good.

  Cream followed six packets of sugar until the liquid in Leo’s cup resembled caramel. Astix stifled a gag.

  She blew a lock of hair away from her eyes, keeping her face down toward her own mug of plain black coffee. A whim had driven her into the noisy confines of the diner. After the scene with her mother and sister, the thought of going home…it seemed too much.

  Diners were a perfect place to be alone while surrounded by people. There, other men and women were lost in their own thoughts, their own worlds, paying no mind to the masses around them. There was something about the smell of coffee, the sounds of cooking and click-clack of plates stacking. It became the acoustical mishmash she needed to relax.

  Then Leo showed up.

  Annoyed, she released another puff of air. Lips pursed. “What do I have to do to get away from you? I have a lot on my plate and no time for mind games.” Her hands shook and she hid them on her lap.

  “I’m hurt.” Leo raised his coffee cup to his heart, sloshing a bit over the side. His eyes never left hers. “I’m not playing mind games with you. It wouldn’t be any fun. I’ve always been upfront and honest. A cup of coffee, maybe a sandwich or a cookie, and some light conversation.”

  “That’s all you want?”

  He
took a sip of his coffee and grinned. The kind of deep satisfaction that doesn’t happen often enough. “The way I see it, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me around. I mean, it’s a diner. You should feel easy here, the two of us talking. Maybe next time you won’t feel the need to check the exits and lace up your running shoes.”

  “I do not check the exits,” she responded, and realized that was a lie. She always checked the exits. Always. Everywhere. She handed him a napkin and watched him dab at the spill.

  “Why can’t you believe me? I want to get to know you better. Maybe figure out why you were at Constance the other night,” he said easily. Purposely keeping the real reason for his presence to himself, she suspected.

  She slapped a hand across his mouth. “Be careful what you say.”

  “You think there are people here listening to our conversation?”

  Exasperated, she sighed. “Who knows? Isn’t it better to play it safe?”

  “Believe me when I tell you, there’s no one coming for you. Not here, not today. The Claddium may be a phone call away but they have other things to worry about than coming after you.”

  Not if they guessed she was the Harbinger, Astix thought sarcastically. Which was a ridiculous notion. “It’s not in my DNA to believe. No,” she stated. “Let me be frank with you.”

  Leo leaned forward with an eager chuckle. “By all means.”

  His laugh went straight to the V between her legs. She nearly crushed the cup she was clutching. A damn good feat considering it was porcelain instead of plastic. “You show up at random times when I need help. You knock me on my ass, follow me home… You know, in my experience, the simplest explanation is usually true. Which means you’re stalking me. Hell, you might have even had something to do with the crows—” She lost her train of thought at the deep set of his brow. “And I can’t think when you’re around!”