Page 22 of Of Flame and Fate
“You can’t kill Destiny?” Emme asks.
“It seems that way. All documented attempts throughout history were foiled, and every assailant who tried met a strange fate.”
“What constitutes a strange fate?” Emme asks.
He glances at the rearview mirror.
“Never mind,” she adds quickly. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”
“But maybe you should,” he tells her gently. “Have you ever heard of Draco the Athenian law maker?”
“No,” Emme replies. I shake my head too.
“Unbeknownst to the humans he served, he was a warlock and among Destiny of Aegina’s biggest critics. It was rumored he hired a merc to kill her in 620 BC. The night of the assassination attempt he went to a theatre, likely to make himself visible so he wouldn’t be named a suspect.” His gaze flickers to me. “He never made it out of that theatre.”
I’m picturing something gruesome involving a sharp weapon. But Gemini did say “strange fate” and he doesn’t disappoint.
“He was showered with coats and hats from grateful citizens. So many he was smothered to death.”
“All right, that’s messed up,” I agree.
“There’s more.”
“There always is,” I say, steeling myself.
“When his guards peeled back the layers of clothing in an attempt to rescue him, they found the hired assassin on top of him with his throat slit.”
“Mmm,” I say. But what I’m really thinking isdamnwhat a freaky way to go!
“In 455 BC,Aeschylus, Athenian author of tragedies, and brother to the local head witch, sent a band of marauders to ambush Destiny of Athens en route to Troy. He was furious with Destiny following her prediction that he would die by a flying object, convinced she was trying to intimidate his sister into surrendering her territory.”
I hold out a hand. “Let me guess, that Destiny made it out unscathed didn’t she?”
He nods. “The creek that ran through his property turned red from the blood of the marauders found stacked like stones up stream.”
“What happened to him?” Emme asks, hesitantly.
“He was killed by a tortoise dropped by an eagle. Most believe the eagle mistook his bald head for a rock it needed to shatter the tortoise’s shell.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s true.”
Neither do I. Death by tortoise is some messed up comment to chisel into your headstone. “What about Destiny of Athens?” I ask. “Did she take his sister’s territory?”
“No,” he says. “A different witch did when she died of grief following her brother’s death.” He stomps on the gas as the road grows steeper and narrows. The rows of sugar pines thicken, shadowing the ravine below. “These stories are just the beginning and grow more violent in the middle ages.”
“Do they all involve witches?” I ask. “It seems to me that’s the running theme here.”
“No, some involve vampires andwereswho saw her as threat or viewed her as competition.” He shoots me a look. “We all have blood on our hands.”
“We do,” I agree. If history has taught me anything it’s no race has been exempt from cruelty. “But as much as Destiny falls under the witch umbrella, she doesn’t embrace the world of covens and spells.” To my knowledge, she wasn’t required to attend “witch school”, unlike me who was forced to (although I’m not a witch) just to keep Sparky from burning us alive. “And the spell-wielders don’t exactly embrace her. I’ve never seen any witch from any coven run up to her like an old friend, happy to see her, and glad she arrived.”
“I know. It’s one of the reasons I feel bad for her,” Emme adds quietly. “She’s invited to all these exclusive events and interacts with the most prestigious members of supernatural society, but it’s only because of her power and her title of Destiny. I don’t think she has many real friends or genuine relationships.”
“I don’t think so either,” I agree. “Except for Tye.” I laugh when I turn to look at Emme, knowing she’s blushing. “You remember Tye don’t you?”
Gemini takes a sniff, likely picking up on Emme’s sudden shyness. “What don’t I know?” he asks.
“Oh, it’s nothing really,” she says.
“Just that she made out with the son of the president of the North American Were Council,” I add, ignoring her attempts to silence me. “No big deal, right, Emme?”