A Destiny Revealed (21 page)

“What Xavier?”

“Dalia, I've been calling you for four days! Why haven’t you
been answering your phone?” Her brother sounded mad.

“I’ve been busy Xavi,” she said lamely.

“You're never that busy, never. Julian said you haven’t
spoken with him either. Do you have any idea how worried we've been?”

“I’m
sorry,
I’ve just been a little
out of it.” Really she'd been sulking the past few days but her brother didn’t
need to know that. It was a little embarrassing and a lot pathetic. She hated
that she was unable to move past her pain. She wasn’t the type of woman to sit
around whining over a man, but here she was. Four days later, barely
functioning, barely eating,
feeling
like a complete
washout.

Even when she bothered to feed, thoughts of Bron invaded her
mind. Calling herself every kind of fool, she fed only from females, his
comfort uppermost in her thoughts. Tonight she would feed from the finest man
she could find.

“Are you hurt?” He paused for her answer. “I knew it.
Julian!” he called, “Get to your aunt’s now, she’s hurt.”

 Dalia sighed. She'd gone and done it now, her nephew
would be over here in a few minutes, clucking around her like a mother hen and
she'd never get any peace.

“I’m fine
Xavi,
you don’t have to
send Julian.” Please don't send Julian.

“And call your sister, maybe she should meet you there.” He
ignored her protest.

“Don’t Xavi, really.”

Her brother plowed on, completely disregarding her request.
“Too late, we'll be there in twenty minutes. We have to talk anyways. You've
missed a lot while you were ‘busy’. Do me a solid and don’t try to sneak off.”
He hung up.

Dalia stared at the phone for long moments trying to figure
out how to escape the family meeting she knew would happen whether she liked it
or not. Reluctantly crawling from the bed, she padded to her bathroom.

Yikes. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her
hair sat in a tangled heap atop her head. Evidence of her sulking showed in the
bags under her eyes, and her ashen skin. Man, she looked a mess. Her breath
caught as the scar along her chest caught her attention. Cursing Bron and his
betrayal, she grabbed a brush and set out to tackle the mess of her hair. She
clutched the brush tightly as pain seized her body. Despair rolled through,
stealing her breath. She
grit
her teeth and pushed
through it. It was getting worse, and somehow didn't feel
like
her own
. Damn it she would not feel sorry for him. Swiping the tears
from her eyes, she set about ignoring the emptiness eating at her gut.

She barely had time to finish and get dressed before her
doorbell rang. Her nephew walked into her bathroom moments later, making a face
at her appearance.

“Wow
Tia
, love what you’ve done with yourself.”

 Dalia flipped him off and took one last look in the
mirror. The ponytail she had pulled her hair into was sad but she didn’t think
it was that bad. The tank top and yoga pants she'd slapped on were decent
enough, so she didn’t know why he was fussing.

“It’s just a ponytail, Julian.”

“That’s gotta be the saddest ponytail I’ve ever seen and
since when have your tats been red." He traced his finger over the tribal
artwork.

Dalia ignored him and walked into the kitchen. Her brother
was there filling a kettle for tea. She eyed Xavier, happy to see him. They
were seven years apart but they were still close. His fifty-three years had
been kind to him. His six-foot tall body was still fit, only slightly heavier
than he'd been in his twenties. Thick wavy hair with a liberal amount of gray
threaded through it touched the collar of his golf shirt. His face was almost
unlined and identical to his son’s. He was dressed neat as a pin, the way he
always was. His khaki pants were pressed, the blue golf shirt he wore tucked in
neatly.

“
Dios
, Dalia, did you at least brush your teeth?”
Xavier pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

“My God, what is it with you two prima donnas, I’m clean,
I’m dressed and I haven’t shot either of you for barging in my apartment, consider
yourselves lucky.” She plopped herself on the stool at the island.

“And you’re in a fantastic mood,” Julian joked.

Dalia smiled for the first time in days. She watched her
brother putter around in her kitchen, grateful to have him there.

“Do you ever blame me, Xavi?” He tensed at her quiet
question.

Julian looked between the two of them trying to decide
whether he should leave the room.

“We’ve been over this, Dalia. The decision to come to New
York was mine to make. It was not your fault some maniac wanted to use me to
get to you.” He knew what she referred to. 

“You could've just given me up, Xavi. You didn’t have to
suffer.” The look her brother gave her turned her mouth up in a small smile.

“I've never been a coward.”

“I thought I was better than Loiza,” she murmured.

“You were still family.” Xavier grabbed her hand. “You were
there when I needed you, and that’s all that matters.” He kissed her knuckles
and went back to preparing his tea.

 An ache Dalia had become accustomed to carrying eased
with her brother’s words, allowing her to enjoy his company without the
accompanying guilt.

She heard the key in her front door lock moments before her
niece, Julian’s twin sister barged into the room. Francesca strode into the
room, her curly brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, her hazel eyes scanning
the room, searching for unknown threats. Her tall, curvy body was hidden under
a pair of baggy jeans and a loose t-shirt that read ‘Be safe at night, sleep
with a cop’. Flip flops covered her slender feet and showed off her fire engine
red toenails, with the two toe rings she always wore as a claim to her
womanhood. Her face was as beautiful as her brother’s was handsome. They shared
the same big, expressive eyes, covered with thick dark lashes. Francesca's pert
nose was courtesy of her mother as was her lush full lips. 

No make-up adorned her serious face. Her stride was
graceful, almost cat-like as she sauntered through the loft. Dalia frowned as
she felt a subtle power radiating from her niece. It had a familiar taste to
it. Francesca walked over kissing her father and aunt dutifully before popping
her brother on the back of his head.

           
“Francesca, how in the hell am I going to get you married off if you stroll
around looking homeless.” Xavier pulled off her ball cap.

Her brown hair fell to the middle of her back in a riot of
kinky curls. It was an argument they had frequently. Dalia’s brother thought
that if his only daughter were married off she
would
 quit
her job as a cop.

“That’s easy papa, stop trying to marry me off. Besides, I
thought we were here to discuss
Tía’s
sulking.” Francesca dug through
Dalia’s refrigerator.

“I was not sulking, Frankie.” Dalia lied.

Frankie snorted in answer to that. She sat on the stool next
to her aunt and started peeling an orange she found  

“Is that what you’ve been doing, Dalia?” Xavier narrowed his
eyes.

“I appreciate the concern guys, but I was only taking a few
days to rest.” Dalia said.

“Hmm,” Julian murmured.

“In other words it’s not up for discussion.” Frankie's eyes
searched Dalia’s face.

“Fine, then we can discuss other things,” Xavier announced.
He poured tea for himself and his daughter as Julian grabbed a beer for himself
and Dalia. He waited until his son was seated before he dropped his news. “So,
I've been talking to dad.”

 Dalia stopped the beer halfway to her mouth and
frowned at her brother. “What do you mean you’ve been talking to dad?” 
She set down her drink.

“Just what I said."
He stirred
his tea. "I woke up about four nights ago and he was sitting at the foot
of my bed.”

Dalia breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, so you dreamed about
him.” She picked up her beer to resume drinking. The silence in the room was
heavy.

“I said I woke up and he was there Dalia.” Xavier stared at
her.

Dalia looked at her niece and nephew searching for signs of
a joke. When they both met her eyes she got nervous. Traces of power from her
niece raised the hair on her arm. Answering power from both Xavier and Julian
confused her. What was going on?

“So what did he say?”

“He said that our family’s powers had been unlocked and that
I would begin to see more spirits. He seemed relieved that I was finally able
to see him.” Xavier stood and leaned against the sink.  “He told me that
he'd been waiting on my powers to manifest since the oracle was found. Do you
know what that means?”

Dalia shrugged. “How the hell should I know?” But she did.
She rubbed her hand across her face. “Have you talked to mom?”

“
Si
, she was not as surprised as I thought she would
be. She explained a bit of our family history to me.” Xavier frowned. “It
doesn't explain what's been happening to the kids.”

“What has been happening with you guys?” she asked the
twins.

 "I've started seeing strange things.” Julian
rubbed his neck.

“Like what?”

“I see threads, different color ones, connecting people.
It's as though I can tell who's related, or who's connected and how close they
are connected." He shrugged. "I should also add that some of those
people are already dead."

“And you?” Dalia looked at her niece. She'd been quiet
through the other explanations, but by her expression none of it was news to
her. They must have all talked about it before.

“My senses are sharper, I can see better, hear, and smell,
the whole nine yards. It’s kind of cool, and very useful on the job, let me
tell you.” Frankie frowned a little. “Strange for me is the feeling of
something moving through my body, almost like a separate entity. Oh, and lets
not forget the voices.”

Dalia’s stomach pitched. She knew the voices. She wanted
nothing to do with those voices. “What kind of voices?”

“Well, there is a woman, she asks me to meet them, and she
says that I'm one of them blah, blah, blah. Sounds crazy, I know.” Frankie's
eyes narrowed. “You know something.” It wasn't a question, more an accusation.

Dalia shook her head.
           

“Spill it, Dalia,” her brother ordered.

“I have to check something out first.”

“So you do know something?” Xavier squinted at her.

“Give me a day.” Dalia hoped the oracle would talk to
her.  “Hopefully I can explain it all tomorrow.”

Francesca nodded, satisfied. Julian looked skeptical and
Xavier eyed her suspiciously.

“One day.” Xavier pointed his finger at her.

“Well, I'm going to crash; I got duty in a few hours.”
Frankie cleaned up her mess of orange peels.

“This will make a week straight you've been on a night duty,
I don't like you working late,” Xavier said sternly.

“You worry too much, dad.” She kissed his cheek and left.

Dalia shuffled her brother and nephew from her apartment
minutes later and breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed. She had no
idea what was happening with her family and unfortunately the only person that
would know may not be allowed to talk to her. Dalia went in search for her cell
phone, dreading the call she knew had to be made. Zahra answered her call on
the first ring.

“I need to meet with you,” Dalia said without preamble.

“Fine, I can transport you here.”

“Yeah right, you know your entourage won’t allow me in your
precious safe house.” Dalia winced at the bitterness in her voice.

Zahra silence on the other end prodded her guiltily.

“Sorry, that was bitchy.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Bron. I had no idea he
thought your powers were corrupt.” She explained.

“You knew they weren't?”

“Yes, I talk with the goddess regularly. I thought once they
met you, then they would see that you wouldn't hurt me. I should've been a
little more prepared and I’m sorry for that. This oracle gig is new to me and
I'm still learning.” Zahra’s tone was sincere.

She thought about her words.
            “That still
doesn't excuse Bron’s betrayal.” Nothing did.

“Surely, you can understand a little, Dalia.”

“So when can we meet?” Dalia cleared her throat. She didn’t
want to talk about this with the oracle.

“I'll transport you here.”

“I don’t want to see Bron.” The silence on the other end
made her nervous.

“He didn’t mean–”

“No, Zahra. We meet without Bron or I'll find another way to
get the information I
need.”           Zahra
sighed.
“Fine.”

“Let me clean up a bit and I'll call you when I'm ready.”
She would take a shower and clean up, the last thing she wanted to do was go to
their turf looking desperate.

“Alright.”
Zahra agreed.

Dalia tossed the cell phone on the bed and jumped in the
shower. The hot water felt good, washing away her melancholy. Her heart still
hurt, but she could function through it. She was glad her family had stopped
by. They had helped shake her out of the funk she'd been in. She rinsed the
shampoo from her hair and froze as a fissure of power disturbed the air.

Shutting off the water, she listened for hints of who had
entered her home. Wrapping the towel around her chest, she unscrewed the towel
rack. There were knives embedded in either side of the towel rack, making it a
lethal weapon. A girl could never be too sure these days, at least that’s what
the tagline read on the website Dalia had ordered it from.

 She moved quietly through her room and
peeked
her head around the door into the living room. Her
grip tightened on the towel rack when she saw Nala lounging negligently on her
sofa. Forcing her hands to stop shaking, Dalia walked into the room as though
she was not concerned. She dropped her weapon on the table and lounged in the
armchair opposite of Nala.