The Three Fates of Ryan Love (13 page)

She finally looked him in the eye again. “What choice do I have but to find out? Aisa knows where I am. She will see me returned or dead. Nothing else would be an option for her. As long as I'm here, I'm a danger to you. I'm going north because it's my only hope, my only chance to get away from them.”

He shook his head. “Something doesn't feel right about this.”

Her gaze slipped away and she went back to staring at the postcards.

“You feel it, too,” he said grimly.

“I don't know what I feel. It's been almost forty-eight hours since I've had a vision. It's like having one of my senses turned off. I feel lost without it. The only thing I know is that I was called here for a reason.
I
have a destiny, just like you, Ryan.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “I never thought I would. Seers are mediums, not catalysts. But here I am and I have to follow through to the end. I hope you can understand that. I
have
to do this, and this . . . my destiny . . .” She settled her finger on the postcards again. “My destiny is leading me here.”

They both stared at the images on the cards. In his head, Ryan heard his dad speaking again.
What are you thinking, Son? Try using the big head for a change.

But Ryan had heard the ring of truth in her words and he couldn't say no to her any more than he could to himself.

“All right, then. Let's get this show on the road.”

T
he car they took had belonged to Ryan's brother, Reece. They found it parked in the garage, next to Ruby's red SUV. It was an older model that Sabelle didn't recognize but it had a long hood that promised a big engine. Steel gray with clean lines, it had two doors and
Charger R/T
on the grill. Ryan held the door for Brandy, tossed the few things they'd packed in the backseat with the dog, and got in behind the wheel. Sabelle slipped in on the other side. He met her gaze in the dim light.

“Buckle up, snowflake.”

The car roared like a beast when he started it and the tires barked when he pulled out and stopped to watch the big garage door swing down. The moment felt final.

It wasn't late, but the winter chill hushed everything. Christmas lights sparkled merrily, but against the barren trees, prickly cactus, and towering palms, they seemed as garish as the inflated reindeer and giant Santas anchored in yards or on rooftops. The gloom that seeped in with the cold seemed to mock the gay decorations and flaunt the feeling of threat that lurked in the flickering shadows.

Sabelle anxiously watched the street disappear behind her. She hadn't lied to Ryan. She had no idea what waited at the end of the
Wa Chu
signs. Though she hadn't mentioned it—which wasn't the same as lying, she assured ­herself—for all she knew, it could be a trap. Her choices were limited, though. Staying in one place with Ryan would only bring captivity on the heels of disaster. This way, the Sisters might let Ryan live. Now that she was here, Sabelle realized what a mistake coming to Ryan had been. She should've been strong enough to stay away.

She should tell him that, but she lacked the courage. Instead she sat silently while he navigated through the traffic on the highway.

“We need to stop and pick up a few things before we go,” he said as he took an exit not far from his house. “We both need clothes and I want to get some supplies.”

He stopped in a crowded parking lot in front of a brightly lit building he called a superstore. He said it carried everything from toiletries to cell phones. Leaving the windows cracked, Ryan told Brandy to wait in the car. The dog look offended, but she obeyed, settling on the backseat with a grunt that spoke her displeasure.

“It's not the mall,” he said to Sabelle when he took her hand. “But I didn't think you'd want to take the time for that. Not at this time of year, anyway.”

She agreed. She felt the ticking clock inside her, counting down to a future she didn't know. Ryan's human way,
wait and see,
was not as easy as it looked. How did any of them survive not knowing what waited around the corner? Sure, they had guidance from the Sisters, but not on a one-to-one level. The Sisters cared about things like war, presidents and kings, catastrophes and power plays.

Ryan had always had Sabelle to guide him, of course. She'd done her best to help him over the years, though he'd resisted most of her efforts. He was stubborn that way. He liked to make his own mistakes. She couldn't fathom why.

Inside, he pointed toward a section of the store packed with racks of clothes and shoppers. “Pick out enough for a few days at least,” he said. “Make sure to get stuff that's warm. We'll probably see snow up north. I'll meet you back here, okay?”

She nodded like shopping for clothes didn't make her feel skittish, like being alone in this crowded place didn't terrify her. He was gone before she could think of a way to stop him. She tamped down the surge of panic and bravely joined the pack of shoppers riffling the racks.

Now that they were away from his house, she didn't feel so hunted. The Sisters would track them, but if they stayed on the move, it would be harder. No doubt they were working the other seers around-the-clock, trying to compensate for Sabelle's absence. Trying to find her in the vast web of humanity.

Sabelle glanced around the busy store, wondering if any of the seers had sighted her yet. What would they think of her being here, now? Passing for human. Would it awake a yearning in them as watching Ryan had awakened one in Sabelle? Or would they judge her, disparage her for wanting to be something she was not?

Thoughts heavy, Sabelle sorted through soft sweaters and fuzzy fleece, long-sleeved tops with bright weaves and beaded patterns, mimicking the actions of the other shoppers who pulled items out to inspect before tossing them in their carts or returning them to the racks.

The store carried pants in every shade and cut: skinny, boot, low-rise, high-waisted. She had no idea which ones she should choose and she felt shallow for caring so much. She lost track of time as she moved through the racks, frustrated by her ignorance when it came to something as basic as dressing herself. Every item she touched came with the question . . .
Would Ryan like it?

She stood holding a pink-and-white-striped sweater with a plunging neck and its twin in pale blue, wondering how other women—real women—made such decisions.

“The blue matches your eyes,” Ryan said behind her.

She hadn't realized he was there. Instantly, her body went on alert, tingling with excitement at his presence. She glanced back and met his gaze.

“It does?”

He nodded. “You almost done?”

“I think so.”

He had his hands full and dumped everything in their cart. He eyed the two pairs of jeans—one low-rise, one skinny—and blue sweater she'd thrown in—not because Ryan thought it matched her eyes, but because it was soft and looked warm—and shook his head.

He walked to another rack and riffled it for a pair of yoga pants and some dove-gray sweatpants. Both went in the cart along with two thick hoodies, one lavender, one teal. On top of it all, he threw in a powder-blue jacket with big buttons and a round collar. Did it match her eyes, too?

“I think that's enough,” she said, looking at it all, worried that she wouldn't be here long enough to wear it all. Ryan didn't know that, though. He thought once she reached Sedona, she planned to stay with her messengers.

With a dark look he pushed the cart across the aisle where bras, undies, and nightclothes hung in every shape and size. Sabelle followed, eyeing all the satin and lace. She'd seen the way he looked at her breasts, the way he tried
not
to look at her breasts but couldn't seem to help himself. She loved that look.

She knew it was wrong, feeling so excited over lingerie when her future was so nebulous. But she couldn't help it. She had this one chance to live, to try new things, to pretend that she was just like everyone else.

She touched the silky slips and ornate gowns as she passed them, a little breathless knowing that Ryan followed quietly behind her.

Even underthings had countless options and varied styles. She didn't even know what size she'd wear, let alone which of the many shapes would be the best. Full or demi? What was the difference between support and push-up? And what was a thong? She picked out a white bra that looked to be more lace than anything else, but Ryan stopped her with a smile and a shake of his head before she put it in the cart.

“What?” she asked.

His gaze dropped to her breasts and lingered for just a moment. Just long enough to make them feel tight and tingly.

“No way you're an A, snowflake.” He reached for one with a C on the little plastic hanger. “Try that.”

She took it from his hands, pleased and embarrassed and flushed to the core.

He watched with interest while she selected panties from a host of bins arranged in a circle, and she could feel the heat of his gaze as she sorted through the different styles. She found some to match the bra and blushed as she imagined how it would feel when he peeled them off her.

And he would.

He nodded at a door with the words
Dressing Room
and told her he'd wait while she made sure everything fit
.
“If you want to wear it out, you can. Just give me the tags.”

Sabelle scooped up all of her items and went into one of the small rooms. She started with the bra and panties. White-laced and so lovely that she stood in front of the mirror admiring herself for a long time.

Ryan couldn't keep his hands off her in his hand-me-downs. What would he think if saw this? She pictured his dark head bent over her body, mouth hot on her breasts, sucking softly through the cotton of her shirt. The memory was enough to make her sway.

Conscious of Ryan just outside the door waiting, she quickly tried on everything else. The sweaters hugged her curves, enhanced by the wonderful bra. The jeans fit like a dream, soft and comfortable. Even the coat made her spin so she could see it from all angles. Ryan had sized her up with an eye for detail that whispered,
My hands have been here, and here.

She transferred the penny key chain Ryan had given her to the pocket of her new jeans, gave herself one last look in the mirror, and emerged, overly conscious of how her new blue sweater matched her eyes and how her new bra hugged her breasts. When she met his hooded gaze, she knew that
he
knew what she'd been thinking.

He winked and desire blossomed low inside her.

She dropped her choices into the cart and looked up. It seemed she'd exchanged one set of chains for another. She'd become a slave to Ryan's eyes. He was watching her, as she'd known he would be. His gaze moved to her mouth. Her lips softened in response and her breathing slowed as she waited. But Ryan didn't shift, didn't lower his head and kiss her even though every cell in her body begged for it.

Finally, he tucked her hair behind her ear, leaned in, and whispered, “You need shoes.”

Confused, agitated—
frustrated—
Sabelle watched him walk away.

Her irritation vanished when she saw the shoe department. It was hard to maintain self-control as she walked down the aisles of footwear. Ryan led her past the high heels and strappy sandals without slowing long enough for her to look, though, and didn't stop until they stood in front of a wall of sneakers in dozens of colors and patterns. She managed to pick quickly, but it was hard. She wished that one day she could return to this place of treasures and take her time.

“I think that's it,” he said, checking the list he'd made. “Anything else you can think of?”

She shook her head and he led her toward the front of the store and the registers, walking ahead of her, tall body bent, elbows and forearms resting on the cart's handles as he pushed it in front of them.

“Ryan,” she said hesitantly. “I need to tell you something.”

He glanced back. “That's a confession voice.”

She shouldn't be surprised. Ryan seemed able to see right through her.

“I can hear one of those a mile off,” he said. “It's the hush to it. Like saying it softly will make whatever you have to say better.”

“Is that how you always know what I'm thinking? You can tell by my voice?”

“I know what you're thinking?” he asked with a crooked smile—the one that made her voice breathy and her breasts heavy.

“It feels like it sometimes.”

He gave a soft snort.

“Why is that funny?”

“Because I don't have a clue what you're thinking, snowflake. You're a mystery to me.”

She gave him a veiled glance, expecting to see mockery. Instead he looked uncomfortable, as if he'd just revealed something he hadn't intended.

“What do you want to confess, Sabelle?” he murmured.

She pulled her gaze from his and tried to even her tone, but she knew he'd hear the many layers hidden inside her admission, and even if he only guessed half of them, he'd still figure out more than she wanted him to know. Yet she owed him the truth, on this at least.

“You asked me how long—”

Something darted across the floor and disappeared beneath a rack. It had been small, the size of a fingernail, perhaps. It had moved so fast she wasn't absolutely certain she'd even seen it.

Ryan gave her a curious look. “You okay?”

“I thought I saw something.” She shook her head. Whatever it was, it was gone now. Ryan kept walking. Gladly, Sabelle moved on, too.

Side by side, they navigated the busy shoppers pushing their carts through the aisles. Sabelle took a deep breath and went on.

“I've been watching you since you were a boy.”

His startled glance made her stomach plunge. He hated that he'd had an unknown voyeur. She'd known he would. Her limited time in his world had taught her why.

“I understand now how that must make you feel. In the palace, privacy doesn't exist. Before I came here, I don't think I truly knew what it meant. But everything is so
real
in your world. Everything I feel is so complex that I barely understand it myself.” She swallowed hard. “I wasn't trying to invade your privacy, though. I swear it. I only wanted to . . . I mean, I've been guiding you. When you'd let me, anyway.”