Destiny Calling (28 page)

I held my other hand out. A tear spilled over and raced down Ruthie’s cheek. She took my hand in hers.

Though the ache built in my chest until the pain was suffocating, I ignored it. Today I needed to be the strong one. I didn’t have a choice. My family needed me.

****

I rocked back and forth on the chair, keeping a wary eye on Stinker as she strutted in front of Ruthie’s yard. “How long will Chance sleep?” We’d left him at my apartment on the couch.

“I reckon not too long. He needed something to give him time to gather his wits so he didn’t go and do something rash.” Ruthie’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“When Tessa said it wasn’t her choice to go, do you think she meant someone killed Destiny?” I kept my face as neutral as I could, tempering down the tears for later when I could be alone. Taking a long gulp of tea, I opened my eyes wide to try to maintain control of my emotions. I had to be strong for Chance, and besides, that’s how I handled all the stressors in my life, later. It’s the only way I knew how.

“What do you think?” Ruthie hands worked nonstop, and pieces of thread and needles clacked together.

As a person who never did any type of craft, I had no idea if she was knitting or crocheting. But it seemed to calm her and enabled her to sit, though her foot was tapping restlessly as if ready to sprint from the chair.

“It had to be an Oppressor.” I shook my head. “But I don’t think it was Griffith.” I remained unwilling to believe he had anything to do with Destiny’s death.

Ruthie didn’t answer. Either her knowing wasn’t working now, or she wasn’t sharing her thoughts. That alone confirmed how depressed she was.

“But why? What was she doing out? I didn’t think she ever left the house.”

“She hadn’t, until now.” Ruthie clutched the needles as she moved them rapidly back and forth. A few tears slipped out and were quickly absorbed into the yarn. “It’s my fault because I gave her the same hairstyle as you. She felt confident, unafraid.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she spoke in short bursts. “She’s been safe all these years. Why did I have to go and meddle? Try to force her out into the world? She was innocent. I should’ve known she couldn’t handle it.”

She looked up to meet my eyes and lowered her voice to a strained whisper. “Why didn’t I
know
that?”

I went to Ruthie and put my arms around her. Hugging her didn’t feel awkward. I was getting used to touching people. Ruthie’s hands stilled. She dropped the yarn into her lap and rested her head against my shoulder. She was uncharacteristically silent, and her shoulders shook.

“It’s not your fault.” Seeing Ruthie, always strong, and full of life, crumble like this, was painful. “You gave her a good thing. The confidence to leave her house and go out into the world. No one should spend their life essentially in a cage that way. You gave her freedom.”

Ruthie being at a loss for words felt wrong. Unnatural. I squeezed her tighter against me, hoping to instill something into her to assure her this wasn’t her fault. I knew it wasn’t, because the killer must’ve thought Destiny was me.

If Destiny’s death was anyone’s fault...it was mine.

****

I’d never been to a funeral before and hadn’t known what to expect, although Destiny’s service wasn’t a normal one, either. Not when the majority of the attendees were of the four-legged variety.

We’d buried Destiny in the woods she loved so much with all of her animal friends. Ruthie knew she would want to be buried at her home.

When Tessa died, she was cremated. I spread her ashes in the flower garden in a park nearby. I didn’t think that would be permitted, since it was a public place. So I didn’t ask. I just did it. It was the least I could do.

One night when the moon was full, I took her urn to the park and had my own private ceremony. If I’d known about her family here, I would’ve brought her ashes for Ruthie.

Ruthie’s yard had flowers pushing through the thawing ground, fighting impossible odds to get to the sun. Tessa loved flowers, but we never had a home long enough for her to grow her own. Tessa would’ve loved to have a garden like this.

Maybe she would have, if she hadn’t had to worry about me.

I looked up at the closed curtains where Chance slept. He wasn’t much help. Ruthie had kept him sedated in order to deal with the pain I couldn’t heal no matter how hard I tried.

Also, since he kept ranting about revenge anytime he was partially coherent, it kept him from doing something foolish.

Maybe they were right and I was the strongest of us all. But I wondered if it only meant I was the most heartless.

I sat on the large moss-covered stone overlooking the fresh mound of dirt where my sister lay buried and found revenge foremost on my mind as well. But despite Chance’s certainty, I couldn’t believe Griffith killed Destiny. What did that say about my
so-called
abilities if I wasn’t able to differentiate between an innocent and a murderer?

Ruthie rocked as she kept a watchful eye on me. I don’t know what she thought I planned to do. Perhaps I should ask her, since I didn’t know either.

I plucked at a piece of grass trying to ignore the squirrel and chipmunk that crept onto the rock beside me. They shrank back at any move I made. They seemed confused that their mistress was gone and probably wondered how I resembled her so much.

Perhaps they mistook me for her, as the Oppressor who killed my sister probably had, or else this was something else I had unwillingly inherited from Destiny.

I hadn’t had any more visions. That might be because I’d been staying with Chance to keep an eye on him, but also because I was a little afraid of this new ability. The visions had caused Destiny to isolate herself most of her life, and I wasn’t even able to harness my own abilities yet.

“You’re strong enough.” A branch snapping at her arrival indicated it was Ruthie who spoke and not Tessa or Aunt Essie invading my head again. It disturbed me how I’d come to accept their invasion as the norm since they’d refused to leave me alone in the past few days since Destiny’s death.

I sighed. “You can’t know that.”

“I know—”

I jumped up from the rock, causing a multitude of animals, stealthily surrounding me while I was musing, to scatter. “I don’t want to hear how you know. What good does it do me? What good does it do any of us? How can we be so powerful if people were too afraid to reveal what they are to pay their respects to Destiny?”

Although Ruthie assured me other witches would’ve liked to be at Destiny’s funeral, they were afraid to reveal their true nature when Oppressors could be observing to see who attended. “What good does knowing do?”

Ruthie pulled back as if I’d slapped her. I immediately felt guilty for attacking her. She looked like she’d aged years in the past week.

“I’m sorry, Ruthie.” I tucked my hands behind me as the fog seeped from them. That happened all the time now.

“I kn—” Ruthie stopped, realizing what she was about to say, instead she patted my arm. “It’s okay, sweetie. I…” Her eyes brightened behind her lenses. “I understand.”

I hung my head. The first of the tears I’d been holding back trickled from the corner of my eye. “I miss her.”

Ruthie lowered herself onto the rock, which I could tell was an effort for her. “We all do.”

This week made me acutely aware of how old Ruthie must be. She pulled me down to sit beside her and slung her arm around me. Ignoring the fog that seeped from them, I rubbed both my hands over my face in a fruitless effort to stem the flow of tears.

“But how can I? I didn’t even get to know her. I just found out I had a sister, and then she’s taken away. I wanted…”

I studied the tiny flowers decorating Ruthie’s skirt. The skirt looked like something Destiny would wear. I’d never gotten to see if she ever wore jeans or was set on wearing dresses all the time or to ask her why that was.

“I wanted to have a sister like you had Tessa. All I wanted was a family.” I sounded whiny and childish, but I didn’t care.

“Now, child, you do have a family. It may not be what you envisioned, and we may be more unusual than most families, but that’s what we are.

“I couldn’t save her, either.”
Wasn’t that supposed to be my purpose?

Ruthie studied me behind her glasses that were fogged from the moisture. “No. That’s not your job. Your only job is to save yourself. You can’t have the responsibility of the world on your shoulders, even if it feels like it is. You know how they tell you to put your own oxygen mask on first so you can help others? Breathe, Hope. That’s all I’m asking.”

I looked away. “It should’ve been me who died. Destiny was good. I’m…not.”

“Ain’t nobody one hundred percent good all the time. Just the other day, George asked me if the bread was homemade, and I said yes, yes it was.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t. I didn’t have the energy to make bread, but I couldn’t admit that to him.”

“It’s not the same,” I said.

“Isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid what they say about me is true.”

I held up my hands in front of her. Tiny black tendrils seeped from them to dissipate before they could fully form. “I’m not what you think I am.”

“It’s not what’s in you, it’s what you do with it.” Ruthie pulled me into another hug, and I let her, closing the world out for a moment.

She nodded against me. “Evil wins every time. This is our chance to balance it all. We were close once. All those witch trials years ago? If you push enough fear into people, they’ll do whatever you want them to do. There may not be many of us left, but they’re the people who understand you. The ones who have your back, that’s family. Blood or not.”

But, I thought, I don’t want balance.
I want it all.

I sniffed and opened my eyes to find a multitude of beady eyes peering at me with what appeared to be concern beneath their furry brows.
This furry adoration might take some getting used to.

A sandpapery tongue licked my leg, and I reached down to pet Tercet. One nice thing had came out of this. Tercet had finally started to show me some affection. She’d also quickly warmed up to Troi and Tuplet, accepting them as siblings much quicker than I had my own.

“Plus, you get something none of us ever got to have, a brother. Now that’s something special.” Ruthie pulled me closer in a little squeeze.

“You’re right, I do have a brother.”
A younger brother, if you counted the six minutes.
It’s about time I started looking out for him. He’d been doing it for me much longer than I ever realized. Because…that’s what families do.

Plus, I had a sister to avenge.

Chapter Nineteen

“This was a stupid thing for you to do,” Griffith said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I squirmed as the brick pressed into my back where he’d pinned me against the wall.

I’d assumed they believed I’d died after they killed Destiny.

Apparently not.

His warm breath caressed my face. I turned away, pressing my cheek against the cold stone of the building. The wall cutting into my skin kept me bound to a tenuous grasp on reality. If he tried to lure me into another hypnotic trance, I was dead.

My nerves wound tight as thoughts of Destiny’s death slunk out of the corner of my mind where I’d stashed them and poured over my awareness.

I pulled but couldn’t budge my wrists from his grasp. “Let me go. I wasn’t doing anything. I was just—”

“Don’t.” He let the word roll out. “Don’t try and play me for a fool. You were following me.” He glanced over his shoulder as a piece of trash escaped from the overflowing Dumpster and blew by. “Into an empty alley, no less.” His eyes ran over me from head to toe. “You’re a brave little thing. You’re fortunate it was me, or you might not have been so lucky.” He ran his tongue up my neck and then stepped back to release me.

I stumbled and tried to pretend I’d lost my balance and not that I’d weakened from the effect of his tongue. As my legs lost their strength, I grabbed the Dumpster so I didn’t crumple to the ground. When I straightened to face him, ignoring the tingle running through my body, I avoided looking directly into his eyes.

That was too painful, like looking at the sun. But before I turned away, he couldn’t hide the hurt underlying the anger in his eyes.

“You actually think it was me, don’t you?” Griffith took a step closer, his shadow looming over me.

I bit my lower lip. “I…” My voice trailed away as I struggled with how to respond. I studied the trash cluttering the alley, as if it had the answer to my doubt. Anything was easier than looking at him.

“I don’t know what to think.” Nor did I know what I’d planned to do when I’d set off intent to find him.

“Look at me.” He cupped my chin and turned my head toward him. As he bent down, his lips were directly in view. I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see them—full and lush and begging to be kissed, or ready to spew more lies, luring me to my death.

“Do you think I killed Destiny?”

I tried to turn my head, but Griffith wouldn’t relinquish my chin. I didn’t want to think he killed my sister, but what if he did? His father was a killer. A rapist. Who’s to say he hadn’t been playing me along the entire time?
Although his father could also be Chance’s father
. Sweet Chance who didn’t seem capable of hurting a fly.

But if Griffith had lured my sister to her death thinking she was me…

As I squeezed my eyes to block out the thought, a tear escaped. I was more upset that he saw me in this weakened state, than the fact that I’d walked into the perfect place for him to easily kill me and dispose of my body.

“Do you think I killed Destiny?” he repeated with more force.

I looked into his face. The sparkling gray lights danced around his head. They could easily gather and fill my body with dread and hopelessness, but I wasn’t afraid, because I didn’t see that—I just saw Griffith, and he was beautiful.

I didn’t fear him. “No.”

He studied my face and must have been satisfied with my response, because some of the tension faded from his jaw.

“You say you’ve dreamt of me?” I asked the question that haunted me.