Strange Fates (Nyx Fortuna) (22 page)

I stood and wrapped my arms around her. I whispered the words into her hair.
I love you.
I hadn’t said those words to a girl in a hundred years, but I wasn’t prepared for her response.

At first, I wasn’t sure if she heard. “I’m glad,” she finally said.

I tried to draw her back down onto the bed, but she squirmed away.

She gave me a quick kiss and then left. She was well out of the room before I realized she hadn’t said she loved me back.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Whenever I had a moment free, I took the opportunity to search for the other charms. Enough of my mother’s possessions had shown up in Minneapolis to give me hope that I’d find another charm here, too.

I scoured most of the antiques stores, pawnshops, and even a couple of check-cashing places, but I didn’t have any luck. I left my phone number at every spot and headed home.

I was sitting in my apartment brooding when my phone rang. “Uh, yeah, I hear you’re looking for a cat carved from ebony,” a woman’s voice said.

“Who is this?”

“Not important,” she said. “Do you want to know where you can find the charm or not?”

I was willing to take the risk. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

“There’s a shop off Nicollet called Zora’s,” the caller continued. “The owner has a charm bracelet with a black cat on it.” There was a click and a dial tone.

I stared at the phone for a minute. It was almost too good to be true. And they always said that something too good to be true would probably get you into trouble. I jumped into the Caddy and headed to Zora’s. Zora’s turned out to be in the Nicolett Mall area, which meant I would have to park and walk a few blocks. I passed by a bronze statue of a television character throwing her tam-o’-shanter into the air. For some reason, it reminded me of the troll I’d turned to stone.

The magic shop was next door to a Home Depot. A crescent moon on the sign above its door was my only clue that it sold magical items.

The store smelled of incense, but at least it wasn’t the kind that made me want to sneeze. Candles, crystals, and basic books on witchcraft cluttered the shelves. So far, everything I saw was stocked for the tourists. A beaded curtain hung in an interior doorway. I assumed it led to a stockroom or private quarters of some kind.

“May I help you?” the clerk asked. It was Jenny, Elizabeth’s roommate.

“Hi, Jenny,” I said. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Nyx,” she said. “It figures. What can I get you?”

“Just browsing,” I said. “Do you have any charms in stock? I’m looking for something antique to give to Elizabeth.”

“What kind of charm are you looking for? Love spell?”

“Not that kind of charm,” I explained. “Something to go on a charm bracelet or a necklace.”

She gave me a sharp look. “Nothing like that.”

“I was told you might have a piece in ebony? An ebony cat?”

“Who told you that?”

“No one. Some guy.” A tiny alarm went off in my brain.

She raised her hand and my gaze went to the charm bracelet on her wrist. There was a black cat hanging there, which could be the cat in question, but there were a lot of useless manufactured copies churned out in factories that mortals wore as fashion statements.

When I raised my eyes, she whipped a spell my way and I was rooted to the spot, unable to move my arms or legs. She had more than a drop of magic in her veins, after all.

“Gaston, get out here,” she yelled.

Gaston? What did they say about black cats being unlucky? The search for this particular black cat wasn’t turning out so well.

The Tracker strode through the curtain and grinned when he saw me rooted to the spot. “Good job, babe,” he said. He held out his hand and she handed over the charm bracelet. He stuffed it into his shirt pocket. Gaston grinned when my eyes followed the motion.

“I’ll take it from here. Now go get some lunch,” he told her. Jenny exited through the front door. I told myself not to sweat. There was no way he could see through the occulo spell to identify me. I’d worry about what Jenny was doing with Gaston later.

“Why did you ask about the cat?” he asked.

He wasn’t positive it was me. If he had been, I’d already be screaming in pain. I gulped and tried to think of what a normal, frightened mortal would say in a situation like this one. My mind went blank.

“Like I-I told her. I wanted a gift for my girlfriend.”

“Cut the crap,” he snarled. “You forgot one thing when you had that medicine woman craft her occulo spell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. I felt the sensation returning to my legs and I commanded them to move, but they remained stubbornly still.

“The eyes,” he continued. “They always forget the eyes.” He pressed a knife against my cheek, at the tip of the eyes. “I’m going to correct that.”

“What are you’re talking about?” I asked. This time, my left leg moved forward a whole half step, but Gaston didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you stumble around without your big blue eyes.” He pressed harder until the knife cut into the skin on my cheek.

“My eyes are brown.” They’d been blue, like my mother’s, but the occulo spell masked that.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” I said. “My eyes are brown. See for yourself.” I opened my eyes wide.

He peered into them. “It’s a trick.”

“No trick.” My arm burned as the spell wore off. “I just came in to get my girlfriend a gift. I can buy her something else. What about that nice crystal over there?”

His gaze left mine for just a second, but it was enough. I swung out hard with my left arm, which was the only one working, and punched him hard. My fist connected with his nose and I felt a sense of satisfaction when blood spurted out. He instinctively put a hand to his face to stop the bleeding.

I kicked him hard in the balls. He dropped the knife and I dove for it. He followed me and reached it first, but his hand was slippery with blood and the knife skittered away.

He elbowed me in the face and then kicked me in the ribs, but I held on tight. He got a grip on my T-shirt, but it ripped. He dug his fingers into my side, but I grabbed his thumb and twisted until he yowled with pain.

I gained possession of the knife and waved it in front of him. He went motionless. I stood. “Stay where you are. Don’t you dare even breathe.” I bent over and hauled him to his feet, but kept the knife to his heart until he flinched. “Give me the cat.”

He didn’t hand it over, so I reached into his pocket and took it.

“You bastard,” Gaston said. “You’re a piece of shit, just like your father.”

“Like you know anything about my father,” I scoffed.

“I know more than you do,” he said. The superior look on his face was all that it took for me to lose the tenuous grasp I had on my temper. I grabbed him by his hair and slammed his face into the tile floor.

I scrambled to my feet. There was blood all over me and I’d ruined another T-shirt, but I had the cat. I gave the unconscious Gaston another kick in the ribs. I grabbed a prayer scarf from the bargain bin and cleaned the worst of the blood off.

I ran all the way back to the Caddy, praying that nobody saw me. It wasn’t like Gaston would call the cops. He had as much to lose as I did.

I drove in circles, hands shaking. I didn’t dare go back to the apartment yet, at least not until I was sure I wasn’t being followed.

The Tracker had found me. The question was, what was I going to do about it? I’d lied when I said I’d never thought about my father, but now that the topic had been broached, the thought wouldn’t leave my mind. Who was he?

I watched the rearview mirror all the way to my apartment, but no one followed me. I parked the Caddy in the first parking spot I found and headed inside to clean up.

I’d stood up to the Tracker and won. More important, I had three of my mother’s charms in my possession. I had bigger problems, though. Jenny obviously was involved, which meant Elizabeth was up to her cute ass in it somehow.

I stripped off my clothes and threw them into a garbage bag, then took a shower. I wiped the fog off the mirror and looked into it. There was a cut on my face near my eyelid, and I’d have a multitude of bruises in the morning.

I replayed the fight with Gaston in my mind. There had been the smell of incense—and underneath that, I realized, I’d picked up on something else, but had been too eager to find the cat to realize it. The strong smell of the grave.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I had a feeling I was running out of time. The feeling intensified when Sawyer called me into his office on Friday. To my surprise, Naomi was there with him. Had they found out who I really was?

“We’d like to invite you to dinner tonight,” Sawyer said.

“No excuses this time,” Naomi added.

Sawyer was the only necromancer I knew. He was involved in this somehow. My worst fears were being realized. People I cared about were getting hurt. It was time to take fate into my own hands. I accepted the invitation.

Naomi nearly deafened me with her squeals of excitement. Was she faking it, or did the Fates still not know who I was?

“And don’t be late,” she told me before I left the office.

*  *  *

I sat outside my aunt’s house for a long time. It could be a trap. Or it could be a family dinner. Or both. I contemplated attending my first family dinner, one that I might not emerge from alive.

I finally mustered up enough courage to ring the doorbell.

Sawyer answered the door.

“Nyx, glad you could finally make it,” he said. He held out his hand and I shook it, faking an enthusiasm I was far from feeling.

“I never turn down a home-cooked meal,” I said.

“C’mon in,” he said. “I hope you’re hungry. I made a heap of food.” Nona appeared behind him.

Sawyer went off to do something domestic and there was no sign of Naomi, which meant my aunt and I were alone.

She led me to the living room where a baby grand piano stood at one end. I took a seat with my back to the wall, where I could see the door.

“Would you like a drink before dinner?”

I shook my head. I’d need every ounce of mental acuity to survive the night.

She took a seat opposite me. “Naomi should be down any minute. Sawyer tells me that you are an ambitious young man.”

“He’s being kind,” I said.

“You also have a weekend job, I believe?” It wasn’t really a question. I’d bet my next paycheck that she had a dossier on me already.

“At Eternity Road,” I replied. “The pawnshop.”

“Seems like the perfect job for you,” she said.

I gave her a sharp gaze, but the look she returned me was serene. There’s no way she would sit there and smile at me if she had the slightest inkling that I was the son of Fortuna. Would she?

I didn’t know what to believe. At best, my aunts had reputations as meddlers, master manipulators, and liars. I couldn’t tell if she was messing with me or telling me the truth. Or maybe a little bit of both.

“Speaking of which,” I said, “I haven’t met your other sister yet.”

Nona frowned at my description of her older sister. “She’s out of town on business,” she said.

What kind of business would be more important than harassing me? I thought she lived for that.

Sawyer returned with a tray of stuffed mushrooms. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said.

Naomi came into the room and gave me an exuberant hug. “I told you he’d come,” she crowed to her mother. “I knew he wouldn’t break his promise.”

I pulled her braid, but gently. “You did, did you?”

Sawyer announced that dinner was ready. We took our places at the dining room table and he passed around a basket. “These biscuits are made from my mama’s recipe,” he said.

He piled my plate high with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and biscuits smothered in gravy.

We made polite chitchat as we ate. I was leery of this little get-together, but the food was amazing. Sawyer was a culinary genius. A necromancer who could cook. He was a man of many talents. Too bad they included blood magic, the dark arts, and raising the dead.

Naomi went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came back carrying a pie in one hand and plates in the other.

She sat back down, cut a huge wedge of pecan pie, and proceeded to tear into it with gusto.

“How can you eat dessert?” Nona asked her.

“Because,” Naomi said between bites, “I’ll be burning it off tomorrow.” Her mother shot her the kind of look that mothers give and Naomi added, “Swimming, Mom. I’ll be swimming. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“That reminds me,” Sawyer said. “When will we be meeting your young man?”

Naomi shrugged. “If I have anything to say about it, never,” she teased.

“I expect to meet the boy who is dating my only daughter,” Sawyer said firmly.

Naomi handed me a plate with a slice of the pie on it. “He’s a friend of Nyx’s.”

“He is?” Nona looked intrigued. “Tell us about him.”

To stave off answering her, I grabbed a fork and took a huge bite of pie.

“So there’s a necromancer in Minneapolis,” I said, after the last delicious morsel. He was sitting across the table from me, but I wanted to see their reactions.

She gave me a sharp look. “There are several witches and sorcerers in the Twin Cities, but there are no necromancers in the area. I’d know.”

“Necromancers are the only ones who can raise the undead, right?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Then there’s a necromancer in town,” I said. “And he sent a wraith to a restaurant downtown.” I didn’t mention that the wraith had been after me.

I watched her reaction. Unless she was an award-winning actress, I’d swear she hadn’t known.

Her husband, however, flinched. He knew something. Grave rot emanated from him.

Former necromancer, my ass. He was a practicing bone-conjurer or he wouldn’t smell of the grave. It was faint, but it was there. Necromancers stank of the stuff, no matter what kind of fancy cologne they wore to mask the smell.

“A wraith?” Nona asked.

“Yeah, you know, a ghost, the undead, a spirit who has been called from his final resting place,”