Destiny Calling (6 page)

Griffith turned and walked away.

“She’s starting to see you. Your true self,” Drake taunted as he pursued him.

Griffith stopped at a closed door. “Get the hell out of here before I make you regret coming.”

Drake looked at the door, where Griffith’s body blocked his entrance, and raised his brow. “You’re changing, my friend. I’ve always been welcome here before.” He took a step toward Griffith. “You don’t trust me anymore?” Drake tilted his head and mockingly pushed out his lower lip into a pout. “Let me help. I love redheads. Their fear is delicious.” He licked each of his fingers, the fork in his tongue flickering.

I gasped.
I love redheads
…the same words whispered when I’d had a knife pressed into my throat…before Griffith saved me.

Cringing back, I rested my hand on my heart. It hammered so loudly I worried they’d hear it, and Drake would come to finish what he started that day. Holding my breath, I waited for Griffith’s reply.

“You know I work alone.” Griffith clenched and unclenched his fists. “Especially when it comes to dealing with the Hallows.” He scowled. “You couldn’t work this close to humans anyway. You reek too much.” Griffith swiped at the air where the faint cloud of blackness hovered around Drake.

Drake laughed. “Don’t tell me. Now you’re bragging about being a Splice? Being half-human is nothing to brag about. It makes you weak.”

Splice?

Drake’s eyelids drooped, and he sighed with pleasure as he ran his tongue over his lips. “I can almost taste your tender, pathetic human heart.”

Griffith ground his teeth. “Like your kind is anything to boast about. You’re your own worst enemy. You wouldn’t even associate with the other Oppressors if you weren’t desperate.” Griffith rested his hand on the doorknob, but seemed reluctant to enter with Drake hovering. “So few of you left. You’re practically extinct.”

“Not for long, my brother. There’s enough hate in this world to build an army.” Drake tilted his head. “You have a choice to make. Our queen won’t let you be neutral. You’ve played both sides for too long. Prove yourself while you can still win the game.”

Griffith raised his lip in a snarl. “That’s all it is to her, a game. I’m not her pawn. She can’t control me if I don’t desire things, need things.”

“Ahh…but you already do. Besides, there are winners in a game, and those winners will get their just rewards. You know our queen might let you lead if you weren’t so caught up with humans. They’re filling your little ole heart.” Drake placed both his hands over his chest and mockingly fluttered his lashes at Griffith.

“The only humans in my heart…” Griffith cocked his head, never losing eye contact with Drake. “…are pieces of the ones I’ve destroyed.”

“What? Joining up with the other half-breeds then, brother?”

“I don’t need to. I can walk among the humans and live as one, but you…” He shrugged. “Not so much. And I’m not your brother.”

Drake’s long hair slid over his shoulder, as if alive. “Don’t be bitter just because I was Dad’s favorite.”

Griffith turned his back to Drake and the lanky man hovered behind him, elevating slightly off the floor to peer over his shoulder. I slid further down along the wall to keep them within sight.

Griffith hunkered forward, concealing his hands. He made a few gestures over the knob and opened the door. Drake went into the room in a cloud of dust with the lingering odor of despair following him.

Griffith stood in the doorway, looking directly at me.

Chapter Five

The scream stuck in my throat. I thrashed my arms and legs to free myself, pulling at the pink oversized comforter. My breath came in pants as I sat up and swung my head around, expecting Griffith to be closing in on my throat.

I hated having the bad dream.

Falling back on the pillow, I closed my eyes. I could still smell him, like musk and leather, despite being alone in Ruthie’s apartment. Reaching down to slide my hand under the edge of the mattress, I sighed. The heat of the book validated it was still there. Blurred spots distorted my memory of the ride back to my car, leaving me wondering if Griffith had been playing mind games, again. I’d been certain he’d seen me, but he’d acted as if he hadn’t, and I wasn’t sure why.

I took in the apartment. The scent of it. The feel of it. I waited. Nothing. The urgent restlessness I’d been a slave to for the past month had finally subsided. I stretched my arms toward the ceiling, and the sleeves of my flannel pajamas slid down to pool at my elbows.

A witch, Ruthie had said, as if her declaration was nothing out of the ordinary. At least no one had ever said as much to me, except a few people in the psychiatric unit when I worked there. But then again, a few patients claimed they were anything from God to Peter Pan. I hadn’t believed those patients but willingly accepted what Ruthie, a complete stranger, told me without question.

I tossed the comforter to the side. Maybe her quirkiness reminded me of Tessa. That or the migraines had destroyed my common sense. For all I knew, Ruthie was downstairs stirring a cauldron, preparing to toss me in with eye of newt and wing of bat.

When I stood, my pajama pants hung down on my right hip revealing my arrow-shaped birthmark. I’d lost a few pounds over the last month, but hadn’t realized how much. Hiking my pants up, I yanked the drawstring tighter, heading for the shower.

I tried to find something less conservative to wear, not because of Chief’s request, but to distract the regulars from realizing I had no idea what I was doing, in more ways than one. Although my choices of attire had limits, considering my entire wardrobe was crammed into one suitcase.

Crammed was an understatement. After digging through to choose jeans and a top, my suitcase overflowed with clothes from every corner, as if seeking refuge from the confinement. It was an eyesore in Ruthie’s immaculate apartment.
Maybe she had a magic broomstick to clean for her.

I knelt and shoved the suitcase into the bottom of the small closet. The case hit the back wall, and a few pairs of socks fell out exposing the envelope. I’d tucked it out of sight, but had been unable to keep Tessa’s words out of my mind.

I hesitated then picked up Tessa’s letter. Tracing my thumb over her familiar scrawl.
“Happy 21
st
Birthday, dearest. You’re special in ways you can’t imagine,”
the inscription read.
Special?
Crazy, was what people usually whispered behind cupped hands.
“One of the Enchantlings.”
Whatever that meant. I’d thought Tessa had made the word up, as she’d tended to do.

Until I saw the word written in Griffith’s book.

“I couldn’t tell you before. You do have family. Find them. They’ll help you.”
It wasn’t their help I was interested in. They didn’t want me then. I don’t need them now. But I might have a few things to get off my chest about dumping me in the orphanage.

Blinking, I wiped a tear with the back of my hand. Why would anyone want to hurt Tessa? She was innocent.

Tessa used to say that things don’t hold memories, people do.
If only I could hear her voice one more time, or tell her I was sorry. I sank down on the edge of the bed, stroking the smooth envelope, replaying our last conversation. We’d argued. Again. I wanted to move and let my restless feet lead me. Tessa wanted me to wait. I’d stormed out and returned too late.

I pressed my hands against my eyes to avoid seeing the image that haunted me—Tessa’s body sprawled at the foot of the stairs. By the time I realized the black fog-like substance hovering around her body was more than it appeared, the fog retreated as if it had never been there.

Tessa was the only person who’d been in my life long enough for me to get used to. I’d become comfortable with her being there and started to think she might stay.

A quick rap on the door barely registered before Ruthie opened the door with a swing of her hip. “I expect you’re decent by now, and all your parts are covered. Not that it’s anything I haven’t seen before, and your va-jay-jay ain’t of no concern to me, but this coffee will be cold if I got to wait all day for you.”

“Don’t worry, everything’s covered.” I interrupted Ruthie’s one-sided conversation and any further talk about my parts. Taking a final swipe across any tears lingering on my face, I shoved Tessa’s letter into my pocket to mash with my latest magazine picture.

My irritation at her bursting in faded with the aroma of fresh coffee. I took the cup and ogled the paper bag. “Are those bagels?”

“Sure are.” Ruthie set the bag on the table and lowered her ample behind into the wooden chair.

When the mug met my lips, I inhaled and closed my eyes to take a sip, and then stopped. I pulled the cup away, eyeing it, and her, warily.

“What? You don’t drink coffee?”

“Yes, I do. It’s just…”

Ruthie’s eyes focused on me behind the glasses perched at the end of her nose.

“Where’s yours?” I said.

She threw her head back with laughter and smacked her thigh. “Thank goodness. You’ve a bit of common sense in you, after all. I was hoping you weren’t as naïve as you looked.” Ruthie nodded. “Um hmm, good. I already drank my coffee, girl. I’ve been up for hours. Don’t need much sleep when you get to be my age.” She reached for my cup. “If it’ll ease your mind that I didn’t spell it, or whatever you’re thinking, I’ll take a drink first.”

I clutched my mug. “No, that’s fine.” I took a tentative sip. My initial intentions to wait to see if I convulsed or turned into a piglet evaporated once I tasted it. Forgetting any pretense of manners, I slurped more. “Oh my goodness, this is the best coffee I ever tasted.”

“Of course it is, dear. I made it.” Ruthie sprung out of the chair. “Well, I’m off to the bar to do inventory and order supplies. I’ll see you there later. Oh, and if you go out, be careful who you talk to.”

“What about Griffith?” I averted my eyes since Ruthie appeared to be able to read too much into them.

“What about him?” Ruthie put her hand on her hip. “I’m not sure what to make of him, yet.” She rubbed her forehead. “Really frustrates me. I’d figure I’d know by now, but I’m sure I will, in time.”

“Does he ever smile?” I wasn’t sure why his perpetual frown bothered me. Instead of asking why he appeared able to hypnotize me, had a brother that floated on air, and a house reeking of evil, I chose to ask about the frown.

“Smile?” Ruthie said. “I’d guess he hasn’t had much to smile about. Besides, I don’t know that he knows how to deal with feelings. Reckon he’s not supposed to have them.” She shrugged.

“He can have some of mine. I have more than enough to share.” I hung my head, thinking about Tessa.

“What?”

I brushed her off. “Nothing.”

“Can you tell the difference, yet?”

“Difference between what?”

Ruthie waved me off. “Never mind. We’ve got much to do. I’d expected you before your birthday, but after Tessa—”

My head shot up when she mentioned Tessa. “What did you say?”

She rubbed her hands together. “I wasn’t sure when you’d show up. It would’ve been helpful if I had known that.” She turned and grabbed the doorknob.

“Wait, you’re leaving already? I have a few questions.” Moving from the edge of the bed where I’d been perched, I stood, careful not to spill my coffee. Spell in it or not, it was delicious. “How did you know Tessa? And about my birthday?”

She released the doorknob, then straightened and smoothed the curtain on the window, keeping her back to me. “How much did Tessa tell you?”

“Tell me about what?”

Ruthie turned toward me, continuing to rearrange the curtain. “March 3
rd
, that’s your birthday. That’s my gift. I know things.” She nodded. A haze of frizzy curls had broken free from her braid to dance around her face.

I momentarily wondered how she’d look wearing a large black hat, toting a broom. “What about me? Am I a…” I hesitated as the word stuck to my tongue. Somehow, I found it easier to believe I was losing my mind. “If I’m not a witch, then what am I?”

Ruthie stilled her restless movements and regarded me with what might’ve been pity. She reached out, hesitating a moment, before placing her palm to my cheek. “Oh honey, with the gift you have.” She smiled. “You’re that and so much more.”

“My gift?” I stepped away out of habit, even though her touch didn’t drain me. “If you know so much, why didn’t you get me out of the orphanage for thirteen years?
Years
.” The familiar anger filled me, and I narrowed my eyes.

It appeared I’d finally succeeded in silencing Ruthie.

Setting the coffee mug down, I clenched my fists to contain the anger bathing my soul as I stepped toward her. “When Tessa showed up, they couldn’t believe she’d want me.” My words came out low and harsh thorough gritted teeth. “They hadn’t even considered that I might ever be adopted. Letting me live day in and day out in the infirmary, separated from the rest of the kids. They said it was for
my own good.
Maybe an allergy was causing the weakness and passing out.” I closed the space between us. “Truth was they were afraid
I
was contagious. They were waiting for me to die, so they didn’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Ruthie’s face fell, and she recoiled as if I’d slapped her. “Hope, I…”

“My
gift
? I’d say it’s more of a curse.” I spun and went out the door, slamming it behind me.

****

I pulled my jacket tighter, hunching forward, tucking my head against the wind. I’d left my car at the corner store to check out the town and walk off my festering anger. Walking may have been a mistake on this unseasonably cold day. Snowflakes danced around my hood, obscuring my vision. Focusing on the toes of my black boots, I frowned at the white discoloration accumulating from shuffling through the salty slush disguising the sidewalk. My toes stuck to the squishy, swollen fabric of my sock where the leather had detached from the sole, inviting in the elements.

Thoughts of Griffith kept running through my mind. How he’d lost his parents. How lonely he must be. Why I kept dreaming of him.
His creepy brother.
I shuddered.