Broken Fate Read online

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  No one else is home when I get back to my house. There’s a note from Mom on the counter letting me know that she’s at some work function and that Chloe and Lacey have gone to dinner and a movie. Everyone will be home late.

  Sighing, I crumple the note in my hand before lobbing it at the trash can. I miss. It must be nice to have the uncomplicated lives that my sisters have. They can go to dinner and the movies. They can play on sports teams and socialize. Even without Alex in the picture, I can hardly find a spare moment to sleep or eat.

  I can’t work ahead like Chloe and Lacey and buy myself some free time. Chloe can spin as many lines as she wants at any time and simply put them in storage. Lacey can create a destiny any time, and it won’t become active until the day of that person’s birth. But once that person is alive and in my workroom, they march inexorably toward death. I can’t kill someone early, can’t work ahead, and I can’t get behind. I’m on alert all day, every day. And gods, I’m just tired.

  Not for the first time, I wonder what life as a mortal might be like. Alex knows that he would be a veterinarian if he could live long enough, but what would I be if I could be anything I wanted to be? I have no idea. My life has been consumed with death for so long that the idea of doing anything for the joy of it is beyond me.

  I know I’m whining, but the encounter with Thanatos exhausted what little energy reserves I have left. He wants my power; that’s nothing new. What’s new is how far he’s willing to go to get it. Something or someone is pushing him harder, making him beg and attack me when I know he’d never lower himself to that on his own. The question is—who or what is driving him? I’ll have to figure it out, but right now, I can’t think straight.

  My eye is throbbing, and the cut on my cheek pulls and tears every time I move a facial muscle. I drag myself up to the bathroom where I clean my wounds and bandage what I can. A quick look in the mirror doesn’t improve my mood. I look exactly like what I am—someone who’s been in a brawl.

  I go back down to the kitchen to look for something to eat. First, I grab a bag of peas out of the freezer and hold it to my eye. The cold makes me sigh in relief. I open the fridge, intent on food, but end up just hanging on the open door, staring at nothing. Little looks good and anything that does look promising, well, I’m too damn tired to deal with preparing it. I shut the door and wander back into the living room, peas still clutched to my face.

  I really want to collapse on the sofa and nap or watch some mind-numbing reality TV, but I have to work. My walk kept me out longer than I planned, and people have to die soon. I’m about to trudge downstairs to start cutting when the doorbell rings. I toss the peas onto the coffee table and go to the door.

  I look through the sidelight and see that Alex is outside. I’m surprised; I thought he was in for the night.

  “What are you doing here?” I sound snippier than I intend, and I rub a hand across my face. “Sorry,” I say.

  “I can go if it’s a bad time,” he says, turning to walk back to his car.

  “No, wait,” I say, reaching for his arm. “I’m just tired. Don’t go. Are you all right? I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

  “I’m okay. I just needed to get out of the house. My family is in rare form tonight. They’re watching every move I make like I’m going to keel over any second. If not that, they’re studying me like they’re trying to memorize every feature of my face. It makes it worse, you know? I know I’m dying. I don’t need to have them being so obvious about it.”

  “Well, if this is a meeting of the down on life club, count me in,” I stay, standing aside so that he can come inside.

  “What happened to you?” he asks once he’s inside and the bright lights reveal my messed-up face. He reaches up to trace the bandage on my cheek with his fingers.

  “An asshole hit me.”

  “Who?”

  “Thanatos. This is his misguided way of saying he loves me.”

  I see the fury bloom in Alex’s eyes. Whether it’s because Thanatos claimed to love me or because he hit me, I’m not sure. Probably a bit of both.

  I put a hand on Alex’s arm. “There’s nothing you can do,” I tell him. “Even if you were healthy enough to take him on, you can’t find him unless he wants to be found.”

  He breathes deeply, struggling for calm. “Then is there anything I can do?” he asks.

  “Unfortunately, no. But having you here makes me feel a bit better. If it’s any consolation, I took some strips off him, too.”

  “It’s not, but I’m glad. You said he claims to love you. Is there something you want to tell me?” he asks, uncertainty in his voice.

  “No,” I say, pressing Alex’s hand to my cut cheek. “Thanatos and I dated once, so long ago. It ended badly. Today, I learned that the only reason he even dated me was because Zeus was pushing him toward me. Thanatos showed up today, professing love, but there’s nothing there, on either side. Trust me. He’s got a reason for coming after me today, but it isn’t love.”

  Alex nods, content with my answer. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment and I wait, knowing he’s thinking about something.

  “Can I tell you the truth? About why I came over tonight,” he clarifies when I cock my head at him in question.

  “Only if it’s something good. Anything bad will have to wait till tomorrow. I can’t deal with any more crap tonight.”

  He reaches out and pulls me to him, resting his chin on top of my head. “It’s good. It’s true that my family is annoying, but I came over here because I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I know I should spend time with Dad and Emily, but I just want to be with you.”

  I push back and look up into his face. “Okay. If we’re being honest, then I get to be honest, too.”

  “Hit me,” he says, mouth lifting into a cheeky grin.

  “I’m selfishly glad that you want to spend the time with me. I get jealous when you’re with your family. I know it’s wrong and I hate myself for even thinking it, but I can’t help it. I want you with me, not them.”

  Leaning down, he kisses me. He strokes my hair, and I sigh in pleasure. After today, I want nothing more than to be touched gently, to be loved. I slide my hands down his back and slip my hands into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling him against me. We kiss until my phone vibrates in my pocket, demanding I go downstairs to work.

  “Damn it,” I whisper against Alex’s mouth.

  “I’ll come with you,” he says.

  I take his hand and lead him downstairs to my workroom. He stretches out on the futon, and I get busy cutting lines. I keep my back to him because I don’t want him to see that I’m crying.

  I’m so frustrated and angry about everything. The unfairness of Alex’s impending death. Thanatos’ abuse. My sisters who get to have lives. Zeus’ meddling. It all comes out as tears. I should scream or throw something, but I’m too tired. All I can do is cry silent, painful, and embarrassing tears.

  The rhythm of work helps me pull it together. Snip, snip, snip. It’s calming. I finally feel that I can turn and look at Alex without embarrassing myself. He’s sprawled out on the futon, his eyes focused only on me. I can’t read exactly what he’s thinking, but there is heat in his gaze and, what is it? An invitation. I stand, rooted in place by his gaze for a beat, and then two.

  “Screw this nonsense,” I mutter.

  I toss my shears on the desk, for once heedless of damaging their beauty, turn off my phone, and flip the lock on the door. Approaching the futon, I stand before Alex.

  “You were crying,” he says.

  “You weren’t supposed to notice.”

  “I notice everything about you.” He extends a hand to me and when I take it, he draws me down to the futon. I stretch out next to him, and he holds me in place on the narrow cushion.

  “Are you crying over what Thanatos did you to you?” he asks, stroking my cheek.

  “No. Well, not exactly. Mostly, I’m just f
eeling sorry for myself and hating my life, and then feeling bad because it’s not like I should be complaining.”

  “You mean at least you aren’t dying,” he says with a smile.

  “Well, yeah. I really don’t have room to bitch about much.”

  He pulls me closer and kisses me. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time. It’s okay to feel like you got a raw deal out of life and throw a pity party for yourself. I do it all the time.”

  “You do not,” I say. “I’ve never met any human who has accepted death with as much grace as you.”

  “Ha. You see what I want you to see. I pity myself all the time. But then I remind myself of all the good things I’ve had. You. My family. Sure I got a raw deal, but plenty of people have it a lot worse. Surely, you’ve got something good in your life that you can focus on when things get really crappy.”

  “He’s lying right in front of me,” I say, reaching up to caress his face.

  We watch each other for a moment. Alex takes a deep breath and lets it out, creating a gentle breeze through my hair.

  “Atropos, there’s something I want to ask you. You can say no if you want, and I won’t hate you for it or anything.”

  I know what he’s going to ask, just like I also know this is the real reason he came over tonight. And I know what my answer will be.

  “You don’t have to ask,” I whisper, snuggling closer to him and gently kissing him. He pushes away.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, searching my face. “I don’t want you to do it out of pity. I don’t want it to be like, ‘Hey, I feel sorry for the poor virgin, so let’s get him laid before he croaks.’”

  “It’s nothing I haven’t thought of a million times already,” I say. “I’m sure. If you were going to live a thousand years, I’d still want you tonight.”

  He pulls me to him and I relax into his touch, letting him pull me gently on top of him. I look down, seeing that his face is red and his eyes won’t quite meet mine.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “God, this is embarrassing,” he begins.

  “It’s okay. Just tell me. Am I hideous or something?”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Atropos, but you’ll have to take the lead. I don’t have enough strength these days to hold myself up for long, and I get tired easily. I don’t want to collapse on you.”

  I place a finger over his lips. “Don’t be sorry. I’m honored,” I say.

  I lean down and kiss him. His fingers are undoing the buttons on my shirt. Mine are doing the same to him. For the first time, we are skin to skin and I revel in it. I try not to focus on just how thin he is beneath his clothes. He’s concentration-camp-victim thin, and it scares me.

  I kiss his eyes, his neck, his mouth, unable to get enough of him. Trying not to think that this might be the only time we will ever do this, I fight to take in as much as I can, to enjoy every aspect of him. Of us.

  I pull away from him so that I can help him with his pants, and he gives me a shy smile.

  “I’m so stupid,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d say yes. I don’t have protection.”

  I chuckle and sit back on my heels. “No worries. Since we’re both virgins and I can’t get pregnant, I don’t think it’s a problem.”

  “Whoa,” he says.

  I expected that reaction. “Which part? The ‘I’m a virgin part,’ or the, ‘I can’t get pregnant part?’”

  “Both.”

  “First, yes, I’m a virgin. Nobody worthwhile ever asked. Ares was the only man I ever considered having sex with, but I waited too long and he got frustrated, I guess. He dumped me for another woman who would have sex with him. And you can see how well things with Thanatos went,” I say, waving toward the cut on my cheek. “After those debacles, I just kind of gave up.”

  “Bastards,” Alex interjects.

  “Yeah, well,” I say, deflecting the subject, unwilling to dampen this moment with awful memories. “Second, no, I can’t get pregnant. It’s part of the whole ‘goddess of death’ thing. I can only end life, not create it. It’s not what I would have chosen, but there it is. At least it comes in handy now.”

  He laughs and pulls me back down until I’m lying on top of him. I can feel his readiness between us, so I raise myself up and over him. After that, it’s only the two of us, lost in each other and the moment. For once, there is no death, no buzzing phone, no annoying relatives, and no rules. There is nothing pulling us apart. We are coming together, enjoying the experience of each other, and reveling in joy instead of sorrow and pain. It’s terrifying and glorious.

  Because Alex is sick, we move slower than I assume most couples do when it’s their first time. Instead of wild thrashing, there is only slow motion, exploration instead of conquest. Time is slowed, as if the world is simply waiting for us. I know that no matter how many more centuries I might live, I will forever cherish the tenderness of these moments and I abandon myself completely to the experience, vowing never to forget one detail of Alex’s touch upon my skin.