Shilpy knew she was right, but Denise couldn’t understand what it was like to live with this curse. It was like a living nightmare—never knowing when the next episode might come, avoiding people in case someone saw her mid-vision.
The last months had been torture, and if she’d known the risks when she first visited the fortune tellers, she would have gone ahead anyway. Yes, it was risky, but what was the alternative?
Denise offered an encouraging smile, and Shilpy smiled back. After keeping this secret for so many years, feeling as though she’d become an outcast or locked up if anyone found out, it was a relief for Shilpy to finally confess and receive not judgement but a smile.
Before Shilpy could say anything more, Denise’s phone buzzed to life on the table. “It’s Thomas,” she said. Denise took a deep breath, and when she answered, her demeanour became light and playful. “Hi, Tom-Tom,” she said, putting a finger in her other ear.
“I’m hanging with my girl Shilps. Why? What are you doing?” she asked, becoming exaggeratedly flirtatious. “The Morning Brew. Yes, the noisy one. Okay, see you in a minute.”
She hung up and sighed. “He can’t live without me.” Denise pulled a small hand mirror from her bag. After quickly scanning her appearance, she gave the mirror a short, satisfied nod and closed it.
Shilpy chuckled to herself. Denise made light of her boyfriends. Rarely did she take any seriously, usually referring to them by some vaguely insulting or teasing names, but she always put in the effort to look her best when they were around.
This one, Thomas, was new. He’d been on the scene for a few months, and Denise had warned Shilpy not to lend him any money. “He’s fun, but not very reliable.” Shilpy had rolled her eyes at the time but had since then come to much the same conclusion. He was great for a party, but not the sort of person you might want to go into business with.
After the events of the morning and the conversation that had followed, a bit of lightness would be welcome. Still, Shilpy knew it would be difficult to forget all that had happened.
“Do you ever wish you could tell Tom? About the Keres Ter Nyx, I mean?”
Denise thought about it and then shook her head. “Better to keep things from him he doesn’t need to know,” she said with a shrug.
Shilpy raised her eyebrows. “Really? Trouble in paradise?”
Denise laughed. “No, no, no, nothing like that. Thomas is . . . well, he’s Thomas. He isn’t my first boyfriend, and he won’t be my last.”
“Does he know that?”
“Yes, we had the chat. We have no illusions about what each of us is prepared to put into this. It’s healthy. We both know where we stand.”
Denise’s confidence in relationships had always been a little intimidating. She knew what she wanted and what she didn’t, and the universe could be damned if it didn’t go along with that. She’d once told Shilpy that her curiosity about the opposite sex was what had led to her expulsion from the Keres Ter Nyx. But if they hadn’t expelled her, she would have run away.
Meanwhile, Shilpy hadn’t had a clue about the males of the species until Dusk came along. Still, she felt that she and Dusk had something special. Something worth fighting for.
“I wonder if I should tell Dusk about my past.”
Denise shrugged. “Honesty is good, but sometimes a girl has to have secrets.”
Perhaps, but Shilpy felt ashamed she hadn’t trusted him with the truth. What would he think if he discovered she’d been raised by a strange cult that worshipped forgotten gods and promoted the use of “special powers”? He might start looking at her differently.
Without warning, someone grabbed Shilpy by the shoulder. She let out a scream as someone leaned down and planted a giant kiss on the side of her head.
Thomas laughed in delight. “Shilps! Still hanging with this lowlife, I see.”
It took her nearly a minute to return her breathing to its normal pace. For a moment she’d thought the Keres Ter Nyx had found her.
“Did I scare you?” he asked with a laugh. Shilpy gave him a scathing look, which he smiled his way through.
Denise’s boyfriend was tall and had long, bleached hair. He looked as if he’d just stepped off the set of a surfing movie. Today he wore an aqua-coloured shirt, carefully ironed, and deeper blue trousers, which complemented the shirt perfectly. Few of the men Shilpy and Denise knew had any sense of fashion. Thomas was the exception. Every time Shilpy saw him, he was always impeccably dressed.
Thomas must have sensed something because his smile slipped for a second. “What are you ladies talking about?” he asked, with a little more caution.
“Family,” Denise replied vaguely. “Shilpy is trying to avoid hers.”
Shilpy rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe Denise had said that. The answer was vague, but still a little too close to the truth for her liking.
Thomas’s face split into a sexy grin again. “You’re talking to the master of avoiding people.”
“Oh, you have some experience, do you?” Shilpy asked, half joking.
“Mostly ex-girlfriends,” Denise teased.
“Ladies, do not make light of my shadowy past. I have many enemies: angry ex–business partners, underbelly mobsters, corrupt government organisations, just to name a few.”
Thomas delivered the confession with a deadpan face. Shilpy wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.
“What did you do to earn the mistrust of so many people? Rob a bank?”
“No, a bicycle store,” he replied with a wink. Despite herself, Shilpy laughed. An image of Thomas sneaking away with a truck full of bikes rose unbidden in her mind. “In all seriousness,” he continued, “if you know anyone who can fake a passport, driver’s licence, or birth certificate, let me know.”
“I’ll ask Dusk. He’s pretty resourceful. I’m sure he could whip you up a fake ID,” Shilpy said.
“Really?”
“No.”
For a moment, Thomas looked genuinely disappointed, but then he shook his head and muttered something about “Sydney people.”
“Speaking of Dusk, are we still on for tomorrow night?” Thomas asked.
Damn! In all the chaos of the morning, Shilpy had forgotten she’d invited Denise and Thomas over for dinner. Part of her wanted to cancel and hide in the apartment, but another part of her knew that was irrational.
“Is Dusk in Melbourne again?” Denise asked.
“He’s there tonight but back tomorrow,” Shilpy replied, forcing a smile. “We’re looking forward to it.”
Chapter 3
The phone rang at six o’clock. Dusk was right on time. Whenever he was away, he always called at six on the dot.
“Hi, baby,” he said. Dusk had one of those deep baritone voices that made Shilpy melt. Most of the time it had the pleasant tones of Barry White, but on a dime, he could summon the authority and command of an angry Samuel L Jackson. Right now, he sounded tired.
“Big day?” she asked. “Are you making progress?”
She could almost hear him shake his head.
“As usual, Mestor is being difficult.”
“He said this would be your last job. What’s changed?”
“We finished the job, but now he’s talking about some new heirloom he wants me to find.”
Shilpy almost swore. Dusk was a consultant for a company in Melbourne. He’d been working for them before Shilpy met him, and he rarely talked about the details of his role. She knew it involved working on some sort of strategy, but he was bound by a non-disclosure agreement, so she was vague on the specifics.
He took the non-disclosure agreement seriously, and she respected that, but there were only so many one-way conversations they could have about work. Occasionally he let slip some interpersonal dramas, but they were few and far between.
He flew to Melbourne every week, and they led separate lives. When they’d moved in together two months ago, Shilpy had thought things would improve, but he spent half the week away and
was rarely allowed to explain what transpired during that time.
They were both looking forward to this contract finishing so they could spend more time together.
“Why can’t he find it himself?” she asked waspishly. “You’ve done enough for these people. The project should be over. Will they pay you extra?”
“It isn’t that simple,” Dusk said, with a sigh. “With luck, this should only take a few more weeks. A month maybe two, tops.”
Shilpy groaned. Two more months added to the contract just like that. It put everything they had planned on hold. Yes, the money he earned was great, and it was unlikely that he’d find a job in Sydney that could match his current salary. But phone calls and Skype sessions only went so far in a relationship.
Sensing her displeasure, Dusk changed the subject. “What did you do for lunch?”
Every Thursday they tried to catch up for a meal when he was around. This was the third Thursday in a row they’d missed.
“Caught up with Denise and Thomas,” she said, not mentioning the near miss with Madame Jessica. She wanted to tell him more, but it would raise too many questions and wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to talk about over the phone. “It was fun.”
“I hear they’re good company.”
“Yes, but they aren’t you. I want you home.”
He sighed. “Me too. I felt especially bad leaving you this time around. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry, about what?” She frowned.
“Your nightmares. I like being there when you wake up.”
Ah, so he’d noticed the bad dreams. It was sweet that he worried about them. Worried about her.
“You will be home tomorrow, won’t you? Thomas is looking forward to meeting you.”
“I’ll arrive a little before five. Shilpy, if you have any more bad dreams tonight, phone me.”
She smiled. “What if it’s three o’clock in the morning?”
“Doesn’t matter. Last time you were shaking all over. I don’t like seeing you like that. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Dusk—”
“I like to protect what is mine.”
“I love you.”
“I know, I love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow at five. Call me if you have any more nightmares.”
“Yes, boss,” she said.
They chatted for a while about mundane things, but once again it felt like a one-way conversation. She told him about the bookstore and the decreasing number of customers, and he asked questions about her while revealing very little about himself.
When she hung up, she couldn’t help but feel irritated. A bit of mystery in a man was appealing, but dating Dusk was like watching Lost—week after week of intrigue and drama which led to more and more unanswered questions.
If only he would stay in one place for more than a week. She’d be able to binge on the DVD version of him.
Shilpy was halfway through preparing a stir-fry for dinner when the phone rang again. She answered half expecting it to be Dusk calling back, but it wasn’t.
“Shilps . . .” Denise’s voice sounded strained.
“Denise? What’s the matter?”
“Shilps, Sarah just called me.”
“Sarah? Your sister Sarah?” Shilpy frowned. “Well, that’s great, isn’t it?”
“Shilps, she’s still inside. She was asking me about you.”
A chill travelled up Shilpy’s spine. She stood frozen in the centre of the room, her mind spinning at a million miles an hour. They were looking for her. Worse, they potentially had a lead on finding her.
“Did she know that we’re in contact?”
“I . . . I . . . don’t know.”
Shilpy bit her lower lip and paced back and forth across the room. Denise recounted all that she’d told Sarah, which wasn’t much. The conversation had been stilted. Sarah had had little interest in talking about herself. She’d been all business. After interrogating Denise, Sarah had hurriedly explained that she needed to go. The call had lasted less than two minutes. Denise sounded pretty upset about it.
“I should lay low,” Shilpy said.
“What about the dinner tomorrow?”
Shilpy swore. If the Keres Ter Nyx were following or spying on Denise, she would lead them here. Shilpy would have to cancel. Except Dusk had already ordered his plane tickets. He would be flying back for nothing.
“We don’t know that they’re watching me,” Denise said.
“It’s a possibility though.”
“I have an idea. What if . . .”
* * *
It took a long time for Shilpy to fall asleep that night. The feeling of being hunted followed her into bed. She needed more milk but felt uncomfortable going out to get it. What if they were watching?
When sleep finally took her, the visions came.
In many ways, the visions were like dreams. They could take her anywhere, from the past to the future to somewhere else entirely.
The sensations within the visions were different depending on where she ended up. In visions about the future, she was more like a spectator, watching and listening in on the event to come but not able to directly change the outcome. A vision from the past was more visceral. She could see, hear, smell, and feel what was occurring in each moment but was locked into a specific set of actions or conversations. Either way, once the vision passed, the memory of it floated away.
There had been only one other kind of vision, and it had occurred just once during the Ritual of Seers. She prayed she never had another like it.
In the current vision, she wrapped her hands around Dusk’s muscular arm. It was night, and they were at a house party. Denise’s backyard was filled with people smoking, laughing, and chatting over a playlist of the ninety’s greatest hits.
She glanced up at him. The top of her head only just reached his shoulder. He wore a leather jacket and a white shirt. His clothes did little to hide the generous layer of muscle over his arms and chest. His skin was the colour of black coffee, and he glanced left and right with bold brown eyes that hinted of danger and adventure.
He carried himself with a quiet authority that didn’t go unnoticed, particularly by the women. More than one cast an appraising look in his direction, or noticed him, rolled their eyes, and then returned to their conversations.
Shilpy usually loathed this sort of scene. Feeling like an outcast, she’d play the wallflower. She’d sit in the back sipping on a drink and counting the minutes until she could politely leave.
Growing up in a cult had kept her ignorant of social norms, pop-culture references, and sporting history. Acclimating herself back into society had taken a long time, and even now she didn’t feel as if she truly fit in.
Tonight, though, Dusk’s confidence emboldened her. She didn’t need to worry about looking like a freak, or saying the wrong thing, or sitting awkwardly in a group trying to contribute to a topic of conversation she knew nothing about. Though they’d been dating only a short time, Shilpy found Dusk easy to talk to, and he was also perfectly happy to sit in silence.
They passed three women sharing a joint near the BBQ. Each locked eyes on him. It made Shilpy smile and hold on to him a little bit tighter.
That’s right, bitches—this one’s mine.
They found Denise in the kitchen playing hostess with the mostest. Slightly drunk, she squealed upon seeing Shilpy. When she hugged Dusk, she made a face over his shoulder that was pretty easy to decipher—he’s gorgeous!
After a brief chat, Denise disappeared to entertain her guests and Shilpy and Dusk found a spot on the couch.
“This will be your spot,” Dusk told her, pointing to a cushion shaped like a giant frosted donut. “If you find yourself becoming uncomfortable, you’ll always have something to eat.”
Shilpy laughed. “That’s very assertive of you.”
“Assertive, I like that. People tell me I can get a little bossy.”
“People tell me I can get a little flirty. Especially after
a few drinks,” Shilpy retorted with a wink.
“Good to know, my friend.” Dusk smiled back. “I won’t be long, and then the flirting can begin.”
Shilpy laughed, and Dusk pushed his way back towards the kitchen. She should have told him that Denise usually kept the alcohol in a cooler in the laundry. On the other hand, he was a big boy; it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.
“Idris Elba, eat your heart out,” a woman behind her said.
Shilpy couldn’t help smiling to herself. It seemed as if Dusk had turned more heads. It felt good to be the object of envy for once.
“I’d take him over Idris any time,” another woman said with a laugh.
“I’d take both of them at the same time,” a third remarked. The other two women giggled.
“He looks like such a player.”
“He can play me tonight, honey. Oh, the music I would make.”
They all laughed.
Shilpy pulled the donut pillow across her chest. The women were obviously drunk, but still, they were talking about doing it with her date. Of course, part of her discomfort came from the fact that Dusk hadn’t played her yet. They’d been out half a dozen times and had made out, but she wasn’t ready to go all the way.
“Who’s that freak he was with?” the second woman asked.
Shilpy stiffened.
“Oh, her? Some friend of Denise’s. I met her at a dinner a while ago. She’s super-weird,” the first woman said.
“Did you see how she was hanging off him? Like maybe if she let go he’d escape?”
“A girl that insecure—”
“Don’t forget super-weird.”
“And super-weird won’t be able to keep up with a man like that. She must be doing some amazing stuff in the bedroom.”
Shilpy shot to her feet and spun around. The women had been standing behind the couch facing away from her, but the sudden movement caught the attention of the shortest of the three, a bookish woman in a suit. On seeing Shilpy, she froze.
The other two women, sensing something amiss, turned. “Oops,” said one of them, a sour-mouthed Barbie doll who wore designer clothes and carried a designer handbag and may or may not have had a designer nose job.
The Gifts of Fate Page 3