Prim and Proper Fate (Twisted Fate Series Book 2) (4 page)

What the fuck was wrong with this Fate? He was by far the pissiest person Brandon had ever met. All day long, he pointed out the negative in everything.

“This conversation is pointless,” Sydney said bluntly, and then she turned to Brandon. “Where is Gavin?”

“We have a situation,” Brandon said.

“A situation? What sort of situation? Brandon, tell me what’s going on.” She was becoming agitated. Brandon could see the fear seeping into her eyes. Without really knowing, she
knew
something was wrong with Gavin.

“He’s okay, isn’t he? He’s not, he’s not d-d-d—”

“Dead? No. Definitely not dead.”

“Then what?”

Brandon could see she was fast losing patience. And they were fast losing time. At any moment, that curse reversal could take full effect and Gavin could turn right back around and come after her. He wouldn’t let Gavin kill Sydney, but he didn’t exactly relish the fight that would ensue if Gavin tried. And Brandon knew damn well that Gavin without a curse would try to the death.

Brandon had lost his desire to kill Gavin about a month ago.

“We have to find Prim,” he said as he turned to the Fate who was even now attempting to slip out of the kitchen. His arm shot out and caught Killian by the neck. Fates couldn’t die, since they weren’t really alive in the first place, but they could still feel pain.

“Where the hell is she?”

Killian gasped for breath as his face turned several shades of red and then purple.

Sydney’s hand came down on Brandon’s arm. “Brandon, you’re suffocating him. Let him down. He can’t speak like that anyway.”

Brandon released the Fate, who dropped to the ground like a stone. Sydney gave Brandon an irritated look and bent to help the man to his feet. Her robe gaped open for a moment, revealing most of the curve of one breast. Brandon didn’t even react. She was his Chala, but she was his Chala in the sense that she was his leader–his pack leader’s mate. He’d never once felt an ounce of longing for Sydney, probably because he knew, subconsciously at least, that from day one her heart had belonged to Gavin.

Sydney helped a gasping and wheezing Killian into a kitchen chair and then turned back to Brandon. “Now. Why do we have to find Prim? I have to tell you, she isn’t my biggest fan, and I pretty much share the sentiment. She thinks I’m an idiot for being with Gavin. And the way she told me about our inability to procreate was pretty heartless.”

Brandon hadn’t been with the pack when all of that occurred. He had left and arranged for a small pack of Rakshasa to kidnap Gavin, so that Brandon could kill him, as revenge for killing his mother. Gavin had escaped–thanks to Sydney–and then Sydney ended up capturing Brandon without telling Gavin. She’d assigned two inexperienced shifters to watch over him, and he’d been biding his time before making his escape.

Unfortunately, the Rakshasa caught up with them first. They had assumed Brandon wouldn’t make good on his promise of payment for services rendered, since Gavin had escaped, and they hadn’t believe him when he insisted he planned to pay anyway.

One of his two captors had been killed before he and the other one could escape. By the time he had a change of heart and rushed back to the pack to warn them of impending danger, Prim had already dropped her little bombshell, shattering Sydney and Gavin’s world and sending the Chala rushing out into the woods alone. Luckily, Brandon found her before the Rakshasa had. Otherwise, they probably wouldn’t have a Chala to defend against an un-cursed Gavin right now.

Brandon eyed the Fate sitting at the kitchen table and decided that Fates weren’t worth their weight in copper, let alone gold. It seemed to him they had a terrible tendency to cause their Chalas’ destructions themselves. They barely needed the Rakshasa to do the job.

“Because Prim is the only one who knows how to curse Gavin again,” he said flatly, answering Sydney’s question. Might as well put it out there and get it over with. He had no doubt Sydney would become emotional, and he had a strong urge to get the hell out of town. Fast. Best to just get it over with so they could move forward.

Sydney’s mouth flapped wordlessly as she worked to absorb what he said. Her head swiveled back and forth between Brandon standing nearby and Killian sitting sullenly at the kitchen table. Brandon was grim and determined. Killian looked contrite. Suddenly, Sydney leaped across the short distance, grabbed Killian by the neck, and lifted him out of his chair, shoving him back against the wall. Once again, his face turned colors and his eyes bugged out of his head. Brandon was impressed despite himself.

“You lifted the curse?
You lifted the curse?
You idiot! Have you completely taken leave of your senses? Do you have any earthly idea what you’ve done? I thought you were a Fate! I thought your job was to protect the Chala! You’ve just given me a death sentence, you worthless piece of shit!”

She continued her rant, glaring at Killian the entire time, while Brandon looked on in admiration. He’d expected tears and desolation. Her anger was a pleasant surprise. Finally, reluctantly, because he felt Killian deserved everything she was giving him at the moment–Brandon put his hand on her arm and tugged it away from the Fate’s throat. Once again, Killian dropped like a stone. This time, no one bothered to help him to his feet.

“We have to get out of here, Sydney. The curse wasn’t fully lifted when he left, but there’s no telling how quickly it will happen. And the moment it does, we both know he will turn right back around and come after you.”

Sydney glared at Killian for several more seconds, before forcing herself into action. “I suppose he has to go with us?”

“Yeah. Unless you or William knows where Prim is holed up.”

Sydney looked up at the ceiling, above which the bedrooms were housed. “I’m not sure if William knows.” She focused her attention on Killian. “Where is she? How do we get to her?”

Killian hesitated, but when Sydney took a menacing step toward him, he blanched. “She–She lives on an island. In the ocean. Near the equator. We have to fly, and then take a boat. And she doesn’t like visitors. Especially shifters,” he added with a glare for Brandon.

“Too fucking bad,” Brandon said. “I’m not letting Sydney out of my sight until Gavin’s curse has been restored.”

Chapter 4

Prim met them on the dock. Killian had sent word, warning her of impending company. She’d immediately taken the necessary precautions, instructing her staff, securing the island, and primping as if she were about to meet the king–any king. That last bit had been for purely selfish reasons. She wasn’t particularly thrilled with the idea of having company at the moment, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t look her best when they arrived. Every girl had her standards. Prim’s were damn high.

Killian had been vague about the nature of the visit, leaving Prim to speculate about all sorts of things. The message she’d received had been simple and straightforward:

William and I are coming for a visit. Bringing the Chala. Should be there within 24 hours.

If Sydney were coming, did that mean they were bringing her Rakshasa lover, too? Prim wasn’t thrilled about that aspect. A Rakshasa had never stepped foot on her island before. For that matter, no shifter had ever stepped foot on her island.

The curse has held for two hundred years
, she reminded herself as she smoothed the front of her hot pink halter dress. No one was in danger here. Still, she couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in her stomach.
Why are they coming? What if the curse doesn’t hold?

She watched from behind the protection of her oversized sunglasses as Gaya maneuvered the boat expertly up to the dock. She’d allowed Gaya to retrieve them because she knew the brownie would be ecstatic to have her bedmate back so soon. She’d been a regular bitch since Killian left a few days ago, and Prim had been ready to toss her into the ocean. The moment she found out they were having visitors, Gaya had immediately swept into a cleaning frenzy and begged to take the boat over to the neighboring island to retrieve them. Prim hadn’t been able to say no.

She counted heads: Killian sat in the seat next to Gaya, looking as sullen as ever; William sat in the bow of the boat, wearing a brightly colored scarf tied around his military-cut blond hair; Sydney sat in the back with a blond shifter.

Blond shifter? Gavin had dark hair–spiky, inky, black hair, as a matter of fact. And he was taller than this shifter, and maybe a tad narrower in the shoulders and waist. Where was Gavin? Why was Sydney huddled next to another shifter?

Had he let her go, after all, and Sydney finally decided to fulfill her destiny? This was exciting news to be sure, but Prim hardly saw how it warranted a personal visit to her island.

Unless Gavin hadn’t willingly given her up. Fates alive, was Killian bringing the Chala here to hide her from Gavin? Was he crazy? With the connection those two had, the cursed shifter would track her down, no matter how many leagues of ocean separated them. Prim’s secret hideout was suddenly in danger. Damn Killian.

She plastered on a smile and reached for the rope Gaya held in her hand. The shifter was there before she could grab it, standing next to her and expertly tying the rope to the dock.

“Um . . . Thank you,” she said uncertainly. He was terribly attractive, she couldn’t help but notice. Not an ounce of fat anywhere . . . well, maybe in one place. He wore well-fitted jeans and there was a definite bulge behind the zipper. If he wasn’t currently turned on . . .
oh my
.

Prim felt her face flush. She’d obviously been without a man for far too long, if she was admiring the physique of some random shifter she’d never met before. She didn’t have good luck with shifters, she reminded herself as she stepped away, giving them space so everyone could climb out of the boat.

Killian rushed to her side and embraced her far too intimately, while William walked unsteadily toward her. He wore a spring green muumuu over what looked like a one-piece swimsuit, and the color of his face matched his dress.

“Seasickness, William?”

“Plane sickness, boat sickness, you name it. I’ve never been so happy to see solid ground in my life. Hello, Prim. Thank you for your hospitality. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go freshen up. Where’s the nearest ladies’ room?”

“Er, Gaya will take you up to the house.”

William nodded and then continued walking up the dock, almost dainty in his slip-on wedge heels, despite his bulk. Prim turned back to the rest of her guests.

“Hello, Sydney,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady and neutral. The last time she’d seen the Chala, she’d shattered the woman’s world by informing her that if she chose to stay with Gavin, she was spelling imminent destruction for her own race. And Prim had done it on purpose, in an attempt to get Sydney to walk away from Gavin and choose a Light One as her mate instead.

She’d felt mildly guilty ever since, because it was obvious that Sydney had strong feelings for her lover. Prim had loved a man once, when she had been human and still alive, but that was so long ago she barely remembered. But she had loved each and every one of her Chala charges, and she’d mourned their deaths as if they had been her own children. So she could understand Sydney’s reluctance to walk away from true love.

“Prim,” Sydney said stiffly as she stepped off the boat and smoothed the front of her T-shirt before tugging the elastic tie from her hair and securing it around a fresh, blond ponytail.

“Remember what I said, Sydney,” the shifter said, his voice practically a growl, dancing down Prim’s spine like nimble fingers, giving her a massage. She fought a shiver. What a strange reaction to the man’s voice.

“We have to play nice,” he said. “At least until she agrees to help.”

Sydney gave Prim a look that said playing nice would not be easy.

“Why do you need my help?” Prim asked. “And where is Gavin?”

Sydney flinched when she said his name. Something was wrong. Prim could feel it as strongly as if Sydney were her own Chala.

The blond shifter blew out a breath and bent over the boat, grabbing four duffle bags out of the bottom and easily lifting them over the side. Prim was glad for the sunglasses blocking her eyes, since she was blatantly staring at the play of muscles along his back and arms as he moved. She felt Killian’s disapproval as if he’d spoken out loud, which told her she wasn’t hiding her attraction very well.

“We have no idea where Gavin is,” the shifter said, pulling her out of the little fantasy forming in her head. “But we’re about to go searching for him. And you’re coming with us.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No need to beg,” he said. When Prim scowled, he shrugged and then stabbed his finger in Killian’s direction. “Your buddy here thought it would be cool to release Gavin from his curse. So now you get to come with us to put the curse back on him.”

“What were you thinking?” Prim admonished Killian. She paused in the middle of leading the small group along a path of flat, smooth stones dotting the sandy landscape and glared at him through her sunglasses.

He at least had the decency to appear sheepish for a moment before attempting to defend his actions. “We’re all better off without him in the Chala’s life.”

“For God’s sake,” Sydney snapped, coming to a stop next to Prim. “My name is Sydney, not Chala. You’re as bad as Gavin was when I first met him. And for your information,
no one
is better off if Gavin isn’t cursed. Even I know that, and I’ve only been aware of this world for a few months.”

“Sydney’s right, asshole.” The massive blond Light One shouldered past the Fate, no doubt deliberately bumping into him and causing Killian to stumble and nearly fall into the sand. Prim turned her back on her colleague and followed the shifter and Sydney up the path toward her house.

Her house-on-stilts had been built to vaguely resemble a dogtrot home. The front entrance led into a wide, open-air courtyard, where colorful potted plants, a small koi pond and several cozy seating areas were arranged. Unless it was raining, Prim liked to take her meals out in the courtyard. The breeze off the ocean ensured it never grew too warm.

Two wings jutted off either side, and the kitchen was behind the courtyard. Each wing was like its own home. In truth, the house was more like a duplex with a shared kitchen in the middle; the only way Prim ensured her privacy, living on such a small island with a handful of other occupants.

The shifter and Sydney paused at the bottom of the wooden stairs leading up to the house. Gaya trotted down the stairs. Prim noted she’d managed to change into a skimpy sundress with a cinched waist, low neckline, and scandalously short skirt. Prim would have taken it for her own except she had almost a foot on the tiny brownie, and that hemline was short even on the five-foot female.

“I’ve made up another guest room in your wing,” Gaya said to Prim, before batting her large, brown eyes at the shifter. “I assume you wish for your own room?”

Did her tone sound hopeful? Killian, who had trailed along behind them, finally caught up and thrust his nose in the air as he swept by and started climbing the stairs, tossing over his shoulder, “I don’t suppose I could have my usual room?”

“Yes,” Prim said before Gaya could comment. It hardly mattered who had which room, and as upset as she was with Killian for lifting the curse, she had no wish to listen to him whine about the state of his sleeping quarters for however long her guests intended to stay. Which she desperately hoped wouldn’t be long.

Sydney followed Gaya and Killian up the stairs and the shifter thrust his hand at Prim. “Brandon Haines. I take it you’re Prim?”

“Yes. And I cannot leave.”

When she ignored his outstretched hand, Brandon leaned forward and snagged hers, pumping it twice before releasing it. “Nice to meet you, too, despite the circumstances,” he said.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No.” He started to climb the stairs. Prim scrambled to follow.

“You don’t understand. I cannot leave.”

“Your little slice of paradise will be just fine without you for a few days.”

No, it won’t.
“I cannot leave,” she repeated. He continued up the steps. When he reached the top, she said, “I haven’t used that curse since I put it on Gavin.”

He finally stopped and turned to look at her. She was momentarily taken aback by his stark, rugged handsomeness, which was startling all in itself because she wasn’t usually attracted to shifters, let alone ruggedly handsome ones. She had always tended toward men who were groomed and manicured and wore their shirttails tucked into the waistband of their pants, which were almost never jeans.

“That was two hundred years ago,” she continued. “And to be completely honest, I’ve only ever used it twice. The first time, it killed the shifter I cursed. It’s very powerful, too powerful for most minds to handle. The only reason I cursed Gavin in the first place was because I was so angry that he’d killed my Chala. Again.”

“Obviously Gavin’s mind can handle it,” Brandon retorted, a growl in his voice.

She hated that she found the growl sexy.

Brandon continued. “He’s been cursed for two hundred years and he’s not dead yet. Which Chala was it, anyway?”

“He’s actually killed a great many of my Chala. But the one whose death sent me over the edge was not even my Chala anymore. She’d already taken a mate, actually. Her name was Millicent Haines—”

“You were my mother’s Fate?” His voice rang with disbelief.

Prim stared at him. Millicent’s pretty, cherub face swam into her mind’s eye, and she compared it to the strong, masculine features glaring at her from a short distance away. Yes. She could see Millicent in Brandon’s features; in his eyes, in the way he pursed his lips, in his high cheekbones.

“Great,” he said, not bothering to wait for her answer. “Yet another incompetent Fate, and I have to rely on you to bring Gavin back into the fold. Fucking great.” Brandon strode toward the courtyard, ducking at the very last second to avoid getting beaned by a low archway, and then disappeared from sight.

With a small sigh, Prim stalked across the courtyard toward the kitchen, to discuss the evening’s meal with Brutus, Gaya’s brother, and Prim’s live-in hunter and gatherer. The brownie was an expert fisherman, and could catch whatever she requested with minimal effort, at any given time. Brutus and Brokk together created spectacular meals that, while devoid of red meat, were more delicious than anything she had eaten prior to escaping to her island paradise.

She knew shifters preferred their red meat, which meant Brandon would no doubt be annoyed upon learning he could eat nothing but seafood while he stayed on her island. Perhaps that would be enough to convince him to leave. Without her.

“Why are you so afraid to leave?”

The calm, feminine voice stopped Prim in her tracks. She hadn’t noticed the Chala slip into the courtyard. The last she’d seen of Sydney, she had gone off to check on William, who was still recovering from his bout of motion sickness.

Sydney stood there, haloed by the smooth, adobe archway that led into Prim’s section of the house. She wore a simple, pale pink fitted T-shirt, a pair of olive-colored shorts, and hot pink flip-flops. She had long legs and a willowy figure with only the subtlest curves. She looked like she’d scrubbed her face clean of any traces of makeup.

She could pass for a fifteen-year-old girl. Not at all Gavin’s type, if memory served. After he killed the Chala that Prim now knew had been Brandon’s mother, she’d made it her life’s mission to learn everything she possibly could about her arch nemesis. Among other things, she knew what type of female he liked to bed. Usually they were dark haired and overly well endowed, with hourglass figures and an expectation that led only to the next morning. If that.

Sydney was just about as opposite of Gavin’s typical type as she could possibly be. And yet he’d fallen in love with her just the same. Love really was a bizarre and uncontrollable emotion.

“What makes you think I’m afraid?” Prim asked. It was true, though, and she was surprised at the Chala’s intuition.

Chala were almost always born of other Chala, created for a single mission: to continue to breed more Chala and more Light Ones, in order to maintain the population. To make their jobs even more difficult, not all females born of a Chala were Chala themselves. Standard female Light Ones were rarely fertile, hence the Chala’s responsibility as a baby-making factory. Light Ones were the protectors of humanity. Without them, the Rakshasa would be free to dine on humans at will, and would eventually decimate the population. The Chala’s responsibility was an important one. For
all
of humanity.