Destiny Calling (18 page)

“Well, I wouldn’t say I never did this type of work—”

“Save it.” Ruthie held up her hand. “You never have. Anyone can see that.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad. I did all right.”

“You did exactly what you’re supposed to do.” The clamor from the bar continued to elevate, drowning out her words. “And you did it wonderfully.”

She set the frozen meat down on the counter with a clatter and pulled me into a quick hug before I could step out of reach. Extending her arms, Ruthie held me at arm’s length, searching my face. “It’s the drink. It’s always been the drink that’s brought them here. They crave the booze and feed off the weary who come to drown their sorrows. It’s the perfect feeding ground for them.”

“But there are bars everywhere. Why is this bar any different?”

“Because we’re at the Crossroads. Didn’t you see the masks?” Ruthie paused in her prep work. “Didn’t Tessa tell you the stories?”

“Stories? About what?” I racked my brain. I couldn’t remember Tessa telling me stories except for insisting upon bedtime stories. It was a little weird, considering I was thirteen, but that was Tessa. Telling her I was too old did no good. She insisted, saying the stories were a special time for her. So I tolerated them, for Tessa. Doesn’t mean I listened.

Ruthie rolled her eyes. “About the Goddess? Or the Crossroads? This is her doorway. Why do you think the whole city went to pot with all the crime?”

“Tessa told me a lot of stories. She loved fairy tales. That’s all I thought they were, stories.”

Ruthie put a finger to her chin, considering. “Hmmm, makes sense. Tessa gave you the information you needed while trying to protect you at the same time.” She smiled. “Pretty smart, that sister of mine. I feel bad, judging her so quickly. Tessa was helping you. She just didn’t let you know.”

“What good does it do me if I never knew what was real or a fairy tale?” I tied my apron on.

Ruthie grasped my shoulders and peered into my face. “Sweetie, many fairy tales start with a real story. Over the years, they grow and get distorted, so truth becomes fiction. But the information is in there.” She tapped my head. “It’ll come out. You’ll see.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of it. I don’t have the best memory.” I’d spent most of my childhood blocking out unpleasant memories and making ones up to replace them.

“Land’s sake child,” Ruthie said. “I’m gonna have to bring up my old books I used to let Chance and Destiny read when they were little. They loved
Don’t Kiss That Frog,
and of course,
Witch’s Spells Don’t Have to Smell.
But
my favorite always was
Magic for Munchkins
.” She smiled.

The noise from the bar poured in as Chief stuck his head in the kitchen. “Where the hell is Helen?” His gaze found me. “There you are. Git on out here.”

“It’s Hope.”
Why would anyone fear him for harboring secrets when he can’t even remember my name?

Chief shook his head and retreated. “That’s right, I been hopin’ you’d get your
can
out here and get to work. ’Stead of all this gossiping of you women folk.”

The door smacked shut, dimming the volume from the bar.

Ruthie shrugged, and then shook her finger at me. “We have an advantage.”

“Why?”

“That feel-good aura’s always around you. It’s like a drug to the Oppressors. They can’t resist it. The nights you’ve been here, we’ve pulled in more Oppressors than ever.” Ruthie began peeling potatoes. “Should be good for tips.”

Ruthie was peeling the potatoes at a high rate of speed, leaving me concerned she wasn’t slipping layers of skin in with them. “Oh, great. I’m glad to be used as bait to help out business.”

Ruthie chopped potatoes, tossing them into a bowl of water. “Oh, it’s not just for business. Sure, Chief’s thrilled about that. But the more who drink our liquor, the better it is for everyone. They’re pacified and don’t prey on the regulars. Then if you’re the one serving them, well, you provide them with something like a balm for their burning hate. It’s like you’re calming the savage beast.” Ruthie nodded, satisfied she’d expressed herself well.

I was still confused. “So I’m to get them to drink themselves to death?”

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary. You just keep the drinks flowing to keep ’em happy. They’ll feel too good to worry about preying on someone else’s misery.”

****

Walking out into the hall, I spared a glance into the bar area, which had emptied out but for Bob. Though Chief would never admit it, I thought he let Bob sleep here some nights. I stopped in front of the exit to the back parking lot, bracing myself. Drake had been at the bar tonight, but had hung back. I’d sensed his eyes on me and felt his tentative probing to try to get into my head a few times. I think he was toying with me, to see how much I could resist him. That, or he was trying to be nice—as nice as a reptile could be—which made me all the more uneasy.

When I pushed the door open, the cool night air flowed in and lifted my hair with its caress. My intent was to make a beeline for my car. Hopefully, if Drake lurked anywhere out here and I didn’t make eye contact nothing would happen. I’d debated about offering him a bottle of beer with the absurd chance it would do any good considering Ruthie’s warped advice. But I wanted to deal with Chief’s anger over stealing booze about as much as I wanted to deal with an Oppressor.

I stepped out into the night, and darkness enveloped me. Obviously, Chief didn’t put much emphasis on safety, because the one light in the parking lot was broken.

Footsteps rapidly approached from my right. All fatigue forgotten, I broke into a run.

“Hope, wait.”

I jammed the key in and yanked open the car door. Sliding into the seat, I spared a glance. It looked like Chance. He needed to find a better way to approach me rather than stalking me in the parking lot in the wee hours of the morning.

“Don’t go yet. I need to talk to you.” He rushed up to the window.

Hunkering down on the seat until I was satisfied it was him blocking the view, lanky build, rooster hairstyle, all that was missing was the sappy smile, I lowered my window a few inches. “What do you want? You have to stop chasing me in parking lots.” I glared at him. “I’ve had a rough evening, and I’m going home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“You think you’ve had a rough evening.” Another man, who looked exactly like Chance, walked up behind him. So two of them were standing side by side.

“You have to be kidding me.” Unwilling to try and figure out which one, if either, was my brother, I put the car in drive and took off. Leaving any chance for error in the dust.

When I arrived at my apartment, I jogged up the stairs, stumbled on the top step, and dropped my keys into the pile of snow outside my door. “Great.” I knelt down, hoping the clear night stars would give me the light to find the keys. No such luck. And my fingers quickly numbed since I’d forgotten my gloves.

A noise startled me, and I jerked my head up. The darkness hindered my vision, but I didn’t see anyone or anything.

Nothing except that the window to my apartment was ajar.

I stood slowly, peering around the porch. There was no way I’d left it open. Besides it being cold today, Tercet could get out through the screen. It irritated me how she continuously tried to escape. I consoled myself into thinking she wanted to visit with Stinker, not that she didn’t want to be with me.

The snow amplified my steps as I walked to the window, standing on tiptoe to peer in. The furniture and coffee table were visible. Unusual lumps became pillows, and a tall ominous shadow in the corner became the floor lamp as my vision adjusted to the darkness.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Shivering in the cold, I debated on whether to continue to search for the keys. If I went in, I could turn on the porch light.
And avoid any other things that could be out here that go bump in the night.
I gripped the windowsill and prepared to hoist myself in.

I tried to shimmy through the window, but I’d worn my large parka. So instead, I lay wedged between the sill and the glass. Rocking from side to side loosened the window’s grip, and I finally burst through like a cork released from a champagne bottle, landing on the floor in an awkward tangle of arms and legs.
So much for stealth.
I quickly righted to a squatting position to stare into the darkness for any sign of an intruder.

Opening the closet, I reached in, feeling along the top shelf. Surely, Ruthie had something to use as a weapon.
Although she probably knew when she’d need one before she did
. I scowled.

Groping through cleaning products, I picked up a canister, which produced a brief hissing sound and I coughed at the gust of lavender scent. Perhaps air freshener could be used as a poor substitute for pepper spray.

Pulling out a broom, I lifted it like a bat and prepared to walk through the apartment. With one bedroom, a bath, and the kitchen that opened to the living room, the inspection wouldn’t take long.

I snuck a peek around the corner into the kitchen and flicked on the light. The fluorescent light flickered before illuminating the tiny nook of a kitchen. I grimaced. The most frightening things there were the crusty dishes piled in the sink. Ruthie would kill me if she knew I’d left the kitchen like that.

I jumped when the doorbell rang, fumbling to switch the light off to cast the room and the dishes into darkness.

The silence dragged on. The door chimed again. I crept across the living room and pressed my eye to the peephole.

Chance stood there, shifting from foot to foot as he glanced out into the darkness. His licorice-black hair lightly peppered with snowflakes.

I opened the door a crack, leaving the chain intact. “What?”

“Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.”

“How do I know it’s you?”

Chance lifted his jacket and pulled down the corner of his jeans, exposing his matching birthmark. “Satisfied?”

A crash came from the bathroom.

I slammed the door shut, fumbled to unhook the chain, and opened the door to Chance’s startled expression. “It’s freezing out, why don’t you come in?”

“What? Okay.”

Grabbing his arm, he stumbled as I hauled him in. I glanced down the hall, then back to Chance.

He followed my gaze. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I whispered, unable to take my attention from the hallway. I never was a good liar.

He studied me and leaned closer. “Why are you whispering?”

I lowered my voice even further. “When I came home, my living room window was open halfway.”

He furrowed his brow as he took in the broom I aimed at the offending window.

I’d forgotten I was still clutching the broom and lowered it, taking a few half-hearted sweeps to delude him into thinking I was cleaning, rather than utilizing it as a pitiful excuse for a weapon.

How was I supposed to be one of the Enchantlings and be acting like this?

“Why are you sweeping?”

“Umm, a little snow came in the window, just cleaning up.” My voice came out higher than normal, despite my attempts to sound confident.

He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. “Then why are you still wearing your coat? And you don’t have any lights on?”

I stopped sweeping. “All right.” I set the broom against the wall and turned on the floor lamp. “I heard something and was about to check it out. It’s not that I’m afraid to, but all I have is a stupid broom to use as a weapon. What am I supposed to do if someone’s in here? Think positive thoughts for them?” I scowled, hating being vulnerable.

He smiled. “I can check it out. If you want me to.”

“Stop thinking you’re all that and go look in the bathroom and bedroom, would you?” I gave him a slight shove in that direction. “I’m coming with you. I’m not helpless.”

“Okay, okay, I’m only trying to be helpful.” Chance shook his head as he went down the hall.

He arrived at the bedroom door and looked back to where I waited a few steps behind, giving me the thumbs up sign.

I made a shooing motion. “Just get it over.”

Chance opened the door and turned on the light. “Oh my goodness.”

“What?” I rushed up to him. “What is it?” I looked over his shoulder into the bedroom.

“Someone’s ransacked your room.” Chance shook his head.

“Ransacked?” I looked at the clean clothes piled on the chair to be put away, the open suitcase I’d dragged out to the middle of the floor, the overflowing laundry basket with dirty clothes and the unmade bed. “This is how I left the room.”

Chance wrinkled his face in disgust. “
This
is how you live?”

“Hey.” I punched him in the arm, not enough to hurt him, just enough to remind him to tread lightly on my feelings. “Don’t judge, just check the bathroom.” I liked to claim my space.

“Okay, okay.” He rubbed his arm.

I waited in the bedroom, starting to feel foolish for acting like the stereotypical woman needing a man to look after her. I’d never been one to do it before; I wasn’t about to start now.
Although it was kind of nice to have a brother to look out for me
. Chance stood at the door to the bathroom, opened just a crack. He opened the door with more caution than the bedroom. I smirked. He was probably fearful of what he might find after seeing the bedroom.

Chance yelled out, did a little jig, and fell to the floor.

I knelt. “Are you okay?” Surely, the bathroom wasn’t that horrifying. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Something ran out between my legs.” He rose slowly. “Judging from the looks of your place, I’d say it was a rat.” Gesturing at the half-empty bottles of hair products, makeup, and brushes. “Hard to say what we heard get knocked down.” He looked at me. “You actually need all this stuff? Destiny doesn’t have half this amount.”

I glared at him. “For your information, that wasn’t a rat. It was Tercet.” I pointed down the hall to the ball of fur watching us. “And no, it’s not that I
need this stuff
, as you put it. I just don’t like to get rid of things that might be useful.”

I liked to have stuff. He probably always had stuff in the same place. He wouldn’t understand. I stomped back to the living room, anxious to be rid of Chance because I had no intention of explaining my living habits. And…my irritation was starting to leak out of me in a hazy fog. Even though he couldn’t see the fog, I could, and it bothered me.