Page 58 of Of Flame and Fury

Uri waves his arms dramatically. “A Fate can’t invade such supposed power.”

Another jab at Genevieve. Another insult she can’t leave unanswered. The yellow stone in her talisman shimmers as she advances. “I grow tired of you, old man.”

“I may be old,” Uri snarls. “But with age comes wisdom, and Iamright.”

“No, you’re very much mistaken, Uri,” Destiny replies, her voice calm. “A Fate can do almost anything with the right kind of help.”

The supernaturals bent on throwing down mere moments ago ease away as Destiny trails in. The tentacles of her dress sag along the floor, sweeping through the mounds of debris and body fluid. She’s no longer using her magic to elevate the limbs of her dress. She’s smart enough to preserve her energy for what’s to come.

Tye shadows her closely. He’s not fully healed, but he is better and ready to act against anyone who edges too close.

Destiny’s skin is the color of peach stone. She’s better than she was but remains far from well. “Take the time to feel your surroundings, dear Uri,” she says. Her standard light voice is heavy with the grief and acridity caging the once majestic room. She smiles sadly, regarding me, and Emme and Shayna, who hurry to stand on either side of me. “You too, my beloved Wird sisters and most cherished Misha. See beyond Fate to what lies beneath.”

I’m not certain why she groups us with Misha, and I don’t sense what I think she wants me to. Yet something is here, beyond the mourning and rampage, there’s a sense of wrongness that jabs my insides and makes me sick.

“No,” Misha rasps. Disgust and dread flash across his face.

“No what?” I ask.

Destiny, already weak, smiles softly. “You sense it, Taran,” she states. “Allow yourself to know it.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her than I don’t know jack. Magic in so many waves remains a mystery. Still, Destiny is counting on me to know. I dive deep within my soul, searching and asking Sparky for help. It takes a long moment. At first, all I feel is the full attention of the room. Everyone is watching and waiting for me to understand. I start thinking I’ll have to meditate or some shit. But when it hits me, all I want to do is scream.

My eyes widen, and my right arm jerks violently. I feel it. Malice, sin, pain—

“Shapeshifters,” I say.

I clasp my hands over my mouth, trying to take the word back. Emme and Shayna don’t swear like, ever. Celia does on occasion. I make it up for all of them now. Son of a bitch. Of course. Shapeshifters are virtually unstoppable. It’s why Johnny chose to side with them instead of the vampires or witches. He fears dying more than anything and wants to live no matter the price. Even if it means his soul.

“Those things weren’t shifters,” Uri barks out, his voice bordering on hysterical. “There are rules! They can’t just take the form of whatever creature they dream up. The creature must have at one point existed.”

My voice hollows as I feel the color drain from my face. “Johnny can create anything he wants,” I remind him. The entire room gives me more attention than I could ever ask for. “His tattoos come to life, and his singing voice can mesmerize and manipulate—”

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Uri yells, cutting me off.

The remaining windows splinter when Gemini snarls, “Disrespect my mate one more time, and you need not worry about Fate,” he warns Uri.

Uri’s eyes morph red with rage. “Master,” Misha tells him. “To survive this night, you must listen.” Misha is plenty pissed, too, but it’s not directed at Gemini. My head pounds from stress. Misha may actually turn on Uri.

I continue, speaking fast yet steady, drawing attention back on me before shit goes down that we’re not ready for. “Johnny can cut into his skin and draw whatever he wants. It doesn’t have to be anything real, so shifter rules and limits don’t apply to him. It’s not unreasonable to believe he created every Nyte who attacked us.”

Ileana struts in naked and not giving two perky nips about it. “Impossible. Fate does not carry such virtue to produce such numbers.” Her Russian accent is lovely in all the ugly. “If these Nytes are markings from his skin, with all we killed, he should be dead or close to it.” She tilts her head as if thinking things through. “Yet you claim he not only continues his wrath but that the shifters accompany him as well?”

“The shifters aren’t here,” I correct. Sparky twitches, agreeing with me.

“I feel them, precious one,” Ileana says. She smiles as if pleased with herself. “All of us excellent beings do.”

Shayna inches closer, mumbling low. “I feel them too, T.”

“I get that you feel them, Shayna, but it’s not actually them,” I insist. I hold up my hands when Ileana grins. It’s a brilliant smile and condescending as all get out. “Their magic is here, or a part of their magic, but they’re not. Not yet.”

“You’re right.” Gemini crosses his arms and nods. “Not in the true physical sense.”

He senses their essence as I do.

Tye gathers Destiny into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Tell us what else comes to you, Taran,” she says. She covers her mouth, yawning. “You were the closest to him. If anyone will know more of what’s happening, it’s you.” She blinks her heavy lids at Misha. “And your friends.”

Destiny closes her eyes, appearing to collapse against Tye. “She’s resting,” he explains, stopping us when we attempt to reach her. He cuddles her, the knowledge that he almost lost her reflecting heavily in eyes. “Just…keep going. She can still hear you, and we need to figure this shit out.”