The Fate of Destiny (Fates #1) (22 page)

It wasn't unusual to see Driscoll dressed in a leather breastplate and thick leather pants. The Lord of Chaos had access to worlds beyond Earth, worlds that Emerson had never yet visited that were ten times as Chaotic as this one.

Today, Driscoll wore only a long sleeved shirt of black and matching pants. Snakeskin boots, the scales as black as his clothing, thudded over the floor.

On his worst day, the Lord of Chaos was intimidating; on his best, Emerson wouldn't have paid money to be in the same state.

“
This is an unexpected visit,” Driscoll said. His baritone voice boomed through the room.

Emerson, who hadn't been face to face with Driscoll in five years, stepped around a set of couches and approached. His worry over the situation must have shown on his face; Driscoll cocked his head in curiosity.

“
I need help,” Emerson said, cutting right to the chase.

Driscoll clasped Emerson's forearm in a welcoming grasp, which Emerson returned. It was an old world form of greeting that Emerson had eventually grown used to.

“
With?” Driscoll crossed his arms over his chest.

“
I need to find out how to contact the Fate of Destiny. Merwen.” Emerson threaded both hands through his hair and let them fall back to his sides.

“
What do you need with Merwen?”

“
Something unusual is happening. Devon, the new Fate of Chaos--”

“
I'm aware who Devon is.”

“
...right. Devon asked me to enhance some storms in a small Oklahoma town a few days ago. She pleaded her case, said it was important. So I did.” Emerson paced back and forth before Driscoll, collecting his thoughts.

“
Not out of the ordinary.”

“
No. We get requests all the time from both sides. But anyway, so I was there with the target when the tornado hit. Except there were too many other innocent people involved and I saved not only the target, but her friend.”

Driscoll arched a brow. He said nothing.

“
Devon showed back up and threatened me, said I needed to finish what I'd started. I found out the hard way that her target was really someone else. Someone she can't hit directly, so she chose this girl's friend.”

“
She threatened you how?”

“
Oh you know.
I'll make someone fall in love with you and then take them away,
kind of thing.”

Driscoll's brows arched again. “Interesting. That is the first I've heard of any Fate resorting to threats to get her way.”

“
I know. Audrinne, Merwen and Faelynn were always straight up if they needed anything. But this girl, Farris is her name—I found out that Merwen apparently visited her when she was little. Or that's what her mother, who is clinically insane, insists.”

“
All right. Where is all this leading you?”

“
I want to know why they want Farris dead. In the beginning, I thought it was just structural damage, something like that, but not anymore. I believe Devon wants Farris dead. It seems like a personal vendetta—and I don't understand it. I want to ask Merwen if she knows what's going on.” Emerson glanced at Driscoll while he paced, trying to get a bead on the man's thoughts. Driscoll, when he wanted to be, was difficult to read.

“
To my knowledge, the Fates don't get personally involved with the Destinies they write for others.”

“
I know, that's exactly what I think, too. Yet, here's Farris, facing some catastrophe or another every day. Someone, I'm not sure who because it wasn't me or Theron, sent a rabid pack of dogs after us last night. We barely escaped. Chaos was involved.”

Driscoll narrowed his eyes. “You're sure?”

“
Absolutely. All four of us almost got nailed. Theron and I couldn't exactly use Chaos in front of the girls to counter the attack. I think they would have noticed.”

Driscoll tongued the inside of his cheek, gaze drifting toward the expansive view out the windows for a moment.

“
The only Weaver of Chaos who has been stripped from the brotherhood is Rowley. It's not out of the realm of possibility that Devon went to him if you failed to do what she asked. He is completely unpredictable.”

“
I've never met Rowley. Don't know him. Only heard of him.” There were many Weavers Emerson had never met. They roamed the world at will, often out of touch of the brotherhood for decades at a time.

“
Do you have any ideas why this Farris would be targeted to such a degree?” Driscoll asked.

“
No. I mean, it has to be something big though. You know?” Emerson glanced at Driscoll. “It has to tie in with the Merwen visit—if she actually did make the visit.”

Driscoll's eyes narrowed a little. “Tell me. Is there anything unusual about this Farris that you've noticed?”

“
Unusual? Not really. I mean, she has issues like most everyone. Her mother went crazy, she's on her own, lives in a loft above a garage. The diner she worked at suffered an explosion. We barely got out alive.”

“
You were there for that as well?”

“
Yeah. Theron and I were. Farris and Beelah, her friend that I believed was targeted first, work at the diner.”

“
It could be that Farris, down the line in the future, will influence another, and this other person is actually the real target. It could be to do with a major breakthrough in science, or of a political nature. These Destinies often have a trickle down effect, you know, a whole web of people who are involved in one event. It doesn't necessarily have to be in the same year, or even in the same country.”

Emerson paced and thought about that. The idea hadn't occurred to him. He didn't like it, either, because it meant that Farris was destined to die and there was nothing he could do to save her.

“
You have issue with her death?” Driscoll, perceptive, asked his question before Emerson had time to contemplate long.

“
Yeah.”

“
What is it? Have you fallen for her?”

Emerson bent his head and rubbed at the shell of his ear.

Driscoll rumbled a laugh. “That explains your hurry here.”

“
I haven't
fallen
for her. I just...she's unique. Different. She shouldn't die.”

“
Many people's lives end before their time.”

It irked Emerson. In this instance, he wanted to fight back against Fate.

“
Maybe. I don't like it though. I want to change it. Can I convince Merwen to step in?” Emerson, agitated, met Driscoll's eyes.

Driscoll hummed in consideration. “Interventions happen all the time, usually for more serious reasons than...what is going on with you. I do not think Merwen will intervene. Why should she? Unless you can figure out what exactly Devon wants Farris dead for, if you can prove it's something bigger than a regular turn of Destiny, I doubt there can be an intervention. Is there
anything
else you can think of that seems odd about the circumstances?”

Emerson tipped his head back to stare up into the cone shaped ceiling. “I don't know. Uh...Farris' grandmother warned her that something 'bad' would happen on her birthday. The girls have been pretty freaked about that.”

“
When is Farris' birthday?”

“
Tomorrow.”

“
What else?”

Emerson scratched a spot on the back of his head that didn't itch and started pacing again. “She's got these stacks and stacks and stacks of papers in her loft. When the fire--”

“
Wait.”

Driscoll's sharp tone stopped Emerson in his tracks. He glanced at the Lord of Chaos and frowned. “What?”

“
Stacks of papers? Typical for a college student?”

“
No, oh no way. Her entire loft was
stuffed
with them. Almost floor to ceiling. She's very...protective of them, too. I tried to read one--”

“
Did you get a glimpse of what the paper said?”

“
I'm not sure I remem--”

“
Think,
Emerson.” Driscoll's posture became tense.

The change in Driscoll's demeanor and the vague urgency Emerson detected put him on edge. “I just got a glimpse. It read like a story. You know, when people write books. There seemed to be like ten pages or so in the one I picked up.”

“
Stacks and stacks?”

“
Yeah. What? Why? What do you think it is?”

“
Do you know anything about the Turning, Emerson?”

He frowned. “The Turning?”

“
It is a rare, rare occurrence that only happens a few times in thousands of years. Audrinne, Faelynn and Merwen are at the end of their cycles as Fates. We have known their replacements were coming for a hundred years or so. No one really has any details because it protects the girls who will become the next Fate. When the chosen girls Turn, it happens on their eighteenth birthday. All three changes, both the Fates of Destiny and the Fate of Chaos, happen in the same year.”

“
Okay, so the girls Turn—what does that entail?” Emerson frowned, trying to follow where Driscoll was going with it all.

“
To become the next Fate of Destiny or Chaos, the girls must die.”

“
What?”

“
The girls. They die a natural death and then Turn. It is a rite of passage. They become immortal afterward and carry on the duties of the former Fate. It is a requirement, a necessity.”

“
So what are you saying? That Farris is somehow connected to the next Fate of Destiny and Devon is getting payback?”

“
No. I'm saying it looks like
Farris
is one of the chosen to become a Fate of Destiny. I'm saying that tomorrow, if this is true, she will experience a natural human death.”

Chapter Seventeen

Devon had not been able to locate Rowley on her visit to Newcastle. The trip had not been a total waste, however. She smirked remembering the friction she'd caused between Farris and Emerson. That had worked out even better than trying to get Larissa Miller to fall in love with him.

Back in the underground tunnels below Chaos Manor, Devon paced through the main room. Several candles flickered, throwing light across the floor and the ceiling. She tapped her lower lip with a finger in thought.

Rowley had two hours to complete his task before she became involved on a larger scale. Drawing in creatures from the darker realms of the universe still scared her, though she wouldn't admit that to anyone else. She was a new Fate herself, learning the ropes as she went. If she lost control of a slew of nefarious beings—it could go bad for her later.

Or could it?

She quirked her lips. The only way she could get into serious trouble was if she jeopardized too many other Destines in progress. On a scale like war—that had not already been arranged—it tended to throw the world into more Chaos than it could handle. Oh, she wanted Chaos to reign. There was no doubt about that. But she had to keep control. That was the critical part.

If only she had Audrinne's experience.

Audrinne
. That was the other possible juggernaut. Devon suspected Audrinne would try to stop all Devon's current plans. Her mentor had spent hours upon hours schooling Devon on the importance of keeping balance. Audrinne thrived on Chaos—Devon saw it in her eyes—but Audrinne toed the line and obeyed all the rules.

Devon loathed rules. They were made, as the old saying went, to be broken.

She wondered if there was a way to block Audrinne—and Merwen and Faelynn as well—from taking action if and when they found out what she'd done.

Switching directions, she marched toward the bookcase against the far wall. From the rows of arcane tomes, she pulled one out with a leathery, faded violet cover.

Devon understood that the Fates, all three of them, had far more power than they used. Not that deciding everyone's Destiny wasn't power in itself—it was. But there was more. A lot more.

Things that no Fate had done in centuries. She knew because Audrinne had hinted at it in her sermons—lessons—after Devon took over her role as Fate of Chaos.

Taking the book to her desk, she brushed aside the other Destinies she'd been working on. Cracking open the tome, she straddled her chair backwards as was her wont and started poring over the intricate rituals.

In the back of her mind, an invisible clock ticked toward noon.

She wished there was another way to get at Farris if the Weaver of Chaos failed besides utilizing the nether creatures.

And then suddenly it struck her. Out of nowhere, an obvious, very simple answer presented itself. Before she could really get started on plans to block Audrinne, she reached out for a shorter stack of papers and yanked out one Destiny in particular. She always knew exactly what she needed and where to find it. On the top of the page it read:
Beelah Bosley.

Oh, this was
perfect.
Why hadn't she thought of it before? She had been throwing Beelah under the bus, so to speak, to try and get at Farris that way.

Why not use Beelah herself as a tool of destruction?

Devon cackled.

She knew already that Beelah Bosley was not the type to turn on people, especially her best friend. Bee had one of those sickening sweet personalities, almost too kind for her own good. She was also somewhat shy and awkward.