Page 45 of Touched By Destiny
“I don’t like this,” Clark complained as he dropped into the chair behind his desk.
“We know it,” Rhonda replied. “You’ve been in a shit mood for two weeks.”
Amused at her bluntness, Gabriel grabbed a seat across the desk next to Rhonda and wiggled his shoulders to get comfortable. It’d taken considerable convincing by both Rosalind and Gabriel, but they were finally ready for their phone call with Arwynn and the other invitees. At the request of the necromancers involved, no real names, faces, or voices would be used. It’d be a conference call with technology manipulating the sounds of the people involved.
Gabriel had insisted on being the one to handle that for Clark, despite Arwynn’s written objections in the many emails they’d exchanged with the man. There was no way Gabriel would trust a stranger to protect any of the Marwoods, and he didn’t care how much it upset or insulted Arwynn. But the tense negotiation wasn’t the reason Clark was moody.
“I wish you’d been there, Rhonda,” Clark said after a minute. “Maybe your observations would’ve been more unbiased than the rest of ours. Not that I think you’re incapable of being neutral, Gabriel, but you watched Alden fall apart as Nariko got sicker and finally lost her brave battle.”
“And Gabe has devoted the last thirty-three years to you and your family,” Rhonda added. “I’m as loyal as he is, but I’m not the one with all the responsibility resting on my shoulders.”
“I know I’m not impartial,” Gabriel said. There was no way he could be—especially not where Eric was concerned—and Alden was flippant, cruel, and callous.
“I wish I could get through to my brother,” Clark said. “Or find some shred of the man I thought I knew in this stranger with his face, who I rarely see. I’d invite you to our next family gathering with my brother, Rhonda, but Rosalind refuses to let Alden in the house. While the shit he threw at Eric was bad enough, his behavior toward Maribeth was unforgivable. I’m as upset as Rosalind, but I’m not sure drawing a line in the sand and keeping Maribeth from her father is best. I think it should be up to Maribeth to decide if he’s allowed in the house or not.”
“That makes sense, but good luck convincing Rosalind,” Gabriel replied.
“Tell me about it,” Clark grumbled. “Okay, are we ready for this meeting with Arwynn?”
Gabriel opened the app on the burner phone he’d had an inspirit purchase in a neighboring state, then handed the device to Clark. Three rings later, a robotic voice Gabriel assumed was Arwynn’s went through the previously arranged rules of the call. It was hard not to roll his eyes at some of them. Expecting no one to record it was a pipe dream, and Gabriel didn’t think anyone would follow that rule. He certainly wasn’t.
“Are we ready to begin?” Arwynn asked once he had verbal confirmation that everyone agreed to his stated policies. “The reason I invited everyone to take part in this call is to discuss what every family present feels are obstacles to creating an alliance or network of like-minded people.”
“For what purpose?” a high-pitched voice asked sharply. Rhonda squeezed an eye shut and put a hand over her ear at the discordant sound.
“There is strength in numbers,” Arwynn insisted. “Many things, including crimes, go unreported within our community because we fear exposure.”
“And who would decide the guilt in any situation?” another participant demanded. “Corruption is rife within thecurrent systems. How would we safeguard a new structure from falling into the same trap?”
“Inspirits can be trusted,” Arwynn suggested.
“Except they are loyal to their summoners. And what if an inspirit committed the crime?” someone asked.
“When was the last time any of you heard of an inspirit committing a crime?” Clark drawled.
There was silence for several moments, then the shrill voice offered, “A few decades ago an inspirit was arrested for murder.”
Gabriel swallowed thickly, and Clark offered him a grim smile.
“That inspirit was innocent. It was self-defense,” Clark stated firmly.
“Let’s not pretend we don’t know about the situation,” the second voice remarked. “We’re talking about Wolfebrier, right? The same man who spent his entire lifetime hunting the destiny-touched among us? No, I have no sympathy for Samael Wolfebrier or anyone like him.”
“The destiny-touched are dangerous,” the fake falsetto voice argued.
Clark opened his mouth to say something, but there was a fury of angry voices tripping over each other.
“I won’t listen to anyone disparage the destiny-touched,” the same person who’d mentioned Wolfebrier shouted above the din. “Nor will I discuss an alliance or agreement with ignorant people. Good day to all of you.”
There was a chorus of similarly angry voices either defending or warning against the destiny-touched, followed by abrupt exits. Gabriel bent and disconnected Clark from the call.
“And that, my dear friends, is why necro families avoid each other,” Clark mused. “We can’t agree on anything. What a waste of time. I learned nothing.”
“I did,” Rhonda said. “It’s my first experience with any necro family besides the Marwoods. I find it fascinating there was nearly unilateral agreement that inspirits are trustworthy.”
“Every necro I’ve dealt with has a high opinion of inspirits,” Clark replied. “I can’t say some of it might not be vanity though, considering it’s our resurrection spell responsible for granting you life.”
“Oh, please, like any Marwood would boast of us being your fine work,” Rhonda countered. “You treat us like people, and that is why you have our trust and devotion.”