Destiny Calling (17 page)

“No, I wasn’t talking to you.” I folded my arms across my chest.

Chance waited with an expression of expectation. “Then whom were you talking to?”

I waved him off. I wasn’t discussing the voices in my head. Despite all his oddities and claiming to be a blood relative, I wasn’t ready to share. “Nothing, go ahead.”

“Sorry, I forget you can’t see me. I’m Aunt Essie.”

I furrowed my brow. “Just how many aunts do I have?”

“Oh, we’re all like a family.”

Chance cocked his head to the side, watching me have this one-sided conversation. I placed my hands on my lap and focused on him. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“Okay…if you say so.” He dragged out the words, giving me the opportunity to explain my newest bizarre behavior. The silence continued until it became awkward.

Chance cleared his throat. “Unlike you, Destiny and I’ve always known about our gifts. Although, we didn’t know you existed until the unknowing spell broke when Aunt Essie died. But we knew about the Oppressors. How they can influence thoughts and thrive on despair.”

I held up my hand. “Wait. Who is Aunt Essie?”

“She was Mom’s twin sister. Multiples are very common for our kind.”

“Our kind?” I didn’t like being classified. “Ruthie talks about being a witch, like it’s a normal thing.” The house appeared ordinary, right down to the dirty dishes stacked by the sink, not what I’d expect of witches.

Chance’s laugh was deep and hearty, coming from the gut and filling his entire body. His love for life with his quick smile was the main reason I was willing to listen to him. I’d never come across someone so full of happiness. “Ruthie used the term
witch
because you might be able to relate to it. But us three are more like higher-level witches, Enchantlings.” He said the word as if he expected me to be impressed.

I threw my hands up. “For goodness’ sake, that means nothing to me.”

Chance smiled. “Did you ever wonder why you say that all the time?”

“Say what?”

“For goodness’ sake.”

“I don’t say that all the time.” At least I didn’t think so. Now I wasn’t sure.

He shrugged. “It’s an expression to unconsciously promote good over evil. It’s part of your nature. How do I explain what you don’t know?” He sighed. “It’s like trying to describe the color blue to someone who’s never seen a color.” He rubbed his chin. “Okay, one of the initial identifying factors is that we’re triplets, born on the third month of the year, on the third day at three-thirty-three a.m.”

“Have there been other Enchantlings? Shouldn’t there be information to guide us other than this on the job training, as Ruthie calls it?”

Chance hung his head. “There were others,” he avoided my gaze. “But there’s nothing left. Only information passed down from generation to generation. Besides, the abilities and gifts of the descendants vary.” He straightened and tapped his head. “It’s all kept up here.”

“Seriously? My memory is terrible, for goodness’...” I stopped when I caught Chance’s nod. Maybe I did say that a lot, but it was weird to think an expression was wired into me. I threw my hands up. “What’s wrong with keeping a record?”

“There was one, or so I’ve been told,” he paused. “The book was stolen over a century ago, and that gave the Oppressors an upper hand. They used the book to pick witches off like flies.” He studied his hands. “There are few of us left. That’s why they separated us when we were born.” He hurried to add, “I’m not saying separating us was the right thing to do.”

I looked away, not sure I would ever understand the reason for taking me away from my family. But perhaps doing so helped make me a stronger person today. I guess I’d never know.

Chance continued. “The Oppressors know to look for triplets born on that day. They’d be able to kill us before we came into our full abilities, as they have with many of the Enchantlings before, who never reached their twenty-first birthday.” He reached to take my hands to clasp in his. “You see, we’re here to help tip the balance between good and bad. Hope and hopeless.” He smiled at his pun. “It’s like we’re playing poker and we can see everyone else’s hand. It’s our chance to swing the human race in a better direction.”

“How many made it to their twenty-first birthday?”

Chance studied our clasped hands.

“How many?”

He opened his hand to press his fingers against mine. “Have you noticed how similar our hands are, I never thought about it before with Destiny.”

“How many lived that long?”

He sighed and met my eyes. “None. Just us.”

I sat back into the couch. “That’s why Ruthie’s been so evasive, isn’t it?”

Chance nodded. “She didn’t want to put too much pressure on you.”

Sure, no pressure and no guidance. I thought about the book I’d taken from Griffith and felt heat rising up my neck in a blush. I’d done the same thing, stolen their book. That word, Oppressors, was all through the book. What did that make Griffith? Was he hunting me, knowing the whole time what I was? I’d wished I’d had the time to take a better look at the book, but I hadn’t seemed to have a minute alone to do it.

Maybe this time, we’d have the advantage, and live to tell about it.

Chance clapped his hands together, startling me. “Have you noticed the significance of your name?” He looked at me like an excited puppy.

I averted my eyes to peer over his shoulder, unsure how much to reveal. It would be nice to have others like me, and then maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone. Destiny continued to hold court with a plethora of animals in the yard. “I thought you wanted to tell me about Destiny, first?”

Chance waved a hand in dismissal. “She knew you were coming and won’t be in until I let her know we’re ready.”

“How did she know I was coming? I didn’t even know if I would come until Tessa…” I hesitated. “Well, how did she know? Is she like Ruthie?”

“That’s her gift. Destiny gets images from the future. She can help to alter destiny. Her gift isn’t the same as Ruthie.”

My shoulders sagged. “Doesn’t she give courage or cheerfulness?” I intentionally avoided saying hope. “Don’t you?”

He shook his head.

I looked around their modest house. “Then why haven’t you played the lottery? Or do you have to use your gift for good and not for evil?”

“No. Destiny can’t control the information she gets. It’s random. Plus, depending on the information, she’s not always sure when the event will occur.”

“So your name is…Chance.” I self-consciously touched my hair that until recently, I thought didn’t look too bad. But what did two old biddies like Tessa and Ruthie know about hairstyles.

The corner of Chance’s lip pulled up in a smile, as he watched me touch my hair. “I can convince people to take a chance, or a road they may not have normally taken.”

“Ruthie told me about my hair, but I can’t believe that wasn’t my own doing.”

“It is your doing. I just encourage you to take a chance you might not have taken. Encouraging you to try something a little outside your comfort zone. I kept thinking about black hair. Ultimately, you made the decision.” He held up his palms as if it were that simple. “When you were traveling here, remember the road signs that changed names? The call on the payphone?”

“That was you? My double vision?” A snag on the couch with a string jutting out suddenly captured my interest. Twirling the string on my finger as I tried to hide my disappointment. I thought the bizarre signs might’ve been Tessa somehow.

“Yep, that was me.” Chance puffed up his narrow chest with pride. “Pretty cool, huh?”

I nodded, but was a little disturbed to think I wasn’t entirely in control of my own actions.

He frowned. “I wasn’t sure my efforts were going to work at all. My intent had been to get you to come to our house on your own.” He rolled his eyes. “That didn’t work, at least not the easy way. That’s why I had to bring you.”

“You mean, when you kidnapped me?” I cocked my head.

A blush crept up his cheeks. “Okay, maybe kidnapping you wasn’t the best idea.” His voice trailed off. “Are you ever going to forgive me?” Resting his elbows on his knees, he made his best puppy-dog face. “Please?”

He’d used that expression at the police station when he’d charmed his way out of there. I rolled my eyes and pushed him back into the cushions of his chair.

He pouted. “You already tried to have me arrested. Isn’t that enough?”

“If you promise not to make that face at me again.” I couldn’t help but smile. If we’d met under different circumstances, I would’ve liked him instantly.

“Besides, you weren’t safe that night. Otherwise, I might’ve tried a different tactic. Didn’t you feel it?”

I remembered the animals I thought I saw and Mrs. Shaw’s bags of meat. “Are there wolves or coyotes around here?” I averted my gaze, not wanting to describe what I’d encountered when I had the flat tire. I wasn’t sure I could describe what happened without sounding crazy.

His expression hardened. “Something like that.”

The sliding glass door opened, Destiny stood looking at me. It was weird to meet someone else with my face.

“Hello, Hope.”

She spoke first, just when I’d decided I was going to say something because I didn’t want her to have the upper hand.
Curses
. “Hello.”

Chance stood between Destiny and me in a protective gesture. “I thought you wanted to wait, Sis,” he said, acting like she was a fragile doll.

Realizing I was jealous because of the protective way he was behaving toward her, irritated me more.

“You talk too much.” Destiny placed her hand gently on the side of his face. “I’m okay.” She glided across the room with far more grace than I’d ever had. Her long skirt swirled around her ankles. A few animals remained outside, pressed up against the window, tracking her every move.

We looked alike on the outside, but already so much was evidently different to me. Though she spoke softly, I’d heard how direct she could be the last time I was here. Her face looked as if it was used to smiling, and she didn’t have the darkness around her eyes the way I did. She wore no makeup, and her skin looked luminous.

“She is as beautiful as you are, my dear.”

I rolled my eyes at the voice in my head.

Destiny ducked her head, probably thinking I’d rolled my eyes at her. She sat on the couch beside Chance and studied her hands stacked on her knee, her gaze rested everywhere but on me.

“Hope and I were talking about our gifts.” Chance covered her hands with his and she smiled. “I told her a little about us, and she is about to tell us about her.”

Both looked at me expectantly. As if anticipating a huge revelation, except from what I’d learned so far, they’d both made out much better than I had.

“How come I seem to be the one with the lamest gift? I get it. My name is Hope, and I give people hope.” I shrugged. “Destiny gets images from the future, and you make people hallucinate. My gift pales in comparison, if you ask me.”

“Oh no, you’ve got the best gift of all.” Chance leaned toward me. “You can
see
them. Neither Destiny nor I can.”

“See who?” I thought maybe he meant Tessa and the mirror or whoever else might be lurking in there.

“The Oppressors.”

See them?
The black fog and the weird residue around Griffith must be the identifying factor. I’d assumed that was from the aura of my migraines or that others might notice the fog as well, or perhaps that’s what I’d wanted to believe.
At least they haven’t seen it on me then.
“Who or what are the Oppressors?” The chiming of the clock reminded me I’d have to leave soon to get to work on time. I had no desire to deal with Mrs. Shaw’s wrath for tardiness.

“They’re the bad guys.”

Chapter Twelve

“You can see them.”

I struggled to open the heavy back door to the Last Call. Apparently, I’m the only one who notices the odd haze surrounding the Oppressors. It must take one to know one. Despite my disappointment that Destiny and Chance didn’t share my same gift, at least they couldn’t see me for what I might be.

I found Ruthie in the kitchen. “Chance told me only I can identify the Oppressors,” I said, before Ruthie started talking. “What good is seeing who the bad guys are, if I don’t know what to do about them?”

Ruthie’s laugh didn’t provide me with the encouragement or advice I sought. I wasn’t sure why I kept expected her to. I sighed. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”

“Aw, child, you’ve been around Oppressors more than you realize. They’ve always been in the world. Where do you think all the serial killers and rapists come from? Why all the prisons are overflowing? Most just don’t know
what
they are.” She nodded. “You do. Tonight’s nothing new.”

“How is that a good thing? Seeing people for what they really are?” I thought about the man from the police station, who I’d figured for a pervert who stared at me when I got gas. Now I knew he wasn’t human, and maybe he knew I wasn’t either. “There are some things I don’t want to know.”

“I know. There is a beauty in wearing blinders in life. It’s a normal condition of the planet, just not normal like you’re thinking. Their motivations aren’t human.”

She nodded again, in what she probably considered encouragement, but to me she looked like one of those bobble heads, and that didn’t boost my confidence in the least. “But imagine knowing who the bad guys are, before they can do something bad? Think of the crimes you could prevent. But for tonight, just get your feet wet.” Ruthie winked, then walked away to open the freezer.

I hurried after her. “Get my feet wet? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Ruthie bent down into the freezer and left me talking to her well-padded behind. “Like I told you before, just serve the drinks.” Her muffled voice echoed from the freezer.

“I don’t mean about bartending, I mean about the Oppressors.” I stomped my foot. The noise from the bar built to a dull roar. Chief would be looking for me soon.

Ruthie pulled herself upright from the freezer with a few packages of hamburger tucked under her arm and adjusted her glasses with the other. “I know you meant the Oppressors.” She stopped to face me. “Have you ever thought about why you felt you needed to work here? At a bar? When you’ve never bartended before?”