Chapter 7 - Fates, Fins, and Fangs

DEREK KNEW HE HAD COMPANY before the shiny elevator doors even slid open. He'd sensed it the minute the god-types arrived. The feeling of a god-aura wasn't one he'd ever forget. No matter how much he might wish otherwise.

Behind him, Orion drew in a deep breath, but was otherwise silent. Waiting. Derek could feel the smaller man wanting to transform and take care of the threat. But his instincts to protect his friend warred with the need to remain subservient.

Derek almost wished the man would just lose his control and his stupid grip on decorum and unleash hell on the three old women who lounged idly in his office. But of course, that was a daydream.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Derek greeted, making himself walk forward, shoulders back, expression uncaring. He was careful not to show the fear and pain their appearance awoke in him. "I'm not sure if you're aware, since you so rarely visit this realm, but it's considered rude to enter a person's home without their awareness or permission." He paced to the sleek wooden bar and poured himself a tumbler of whiskey.

The youngest looking of the bunch smiled at him and raked her tangled golden hair back from her face. Lachesis. Or Skuld, depending on the mood. She was ancient, but there was a spark to her that spoke of childishness. Fitting, for the fate associated with the future. As if she was still a wide-eyed innocent, full of potential. "We need no permission, demon," she reminded him. "We come and go as we please, and not even the gods can stop us."

Her smile was joyous, effervescent. He wanted to wipe it away with a well-placed backhand.

The fates were trouble. And the mere fact that they were showing themselves to him was a very, very bad sign. He tipped his tumbler back and drained it, then set it aside, pausing to straighten his cuffs and fuss with his opal cuff links. "Well then, what did you wish to discuss? I'm quite busy at the moment. Time is money, you know."

Orion skirted around the room and gracefully inserted himself beside the bar, ready to serve, in case the guests needed refreshments, always the perfect, immaculate employee. Derek would roll his eyes, if he wasn't busy looking imposing.

"Time is more valuable than money, even for one so long-lived as you," the oldest of the women said in a dry, dusty voice. Atropos. Urd. The past. Inflexible and immovable. She was also the one who held the scissors that supposedly cut life threads. "Even demons die."

He arched a brow at her, keeping his expression full of bored disdain. "I'm well aware, having killed quite a few of them myself."

The middle fate lounged against his heavy mahogany desk. Her hair was red like flames, and she burned with the energy of the present. Clotho, or Verdani, was the energy of decisiveness and action. Straightening, she regarded him with serious black eyes. "And your actions are why we are here now, demon. One of your kind is beginning to move. He will set in motion a wave of chaos and suffering on the mortal plane. While the gods have sworn not to interfere in matters such as this, we have made no such promise."

He regarded her with a bored expression, even as panic built in his chest. The gods had largely avoided getting involved in the affairs of humans since the time of the demon wars. If someone in their realm was taking notice of this new threat, it meant the issue was serious. The fates were annoying, devious, obtuse...but they were never wrong.

"Well," he said with a congenial smile. "Whatever the issue is, I wish you luck. Now please remove yourselves from my office. I have work to do."

Lachesis skipped over to him and patted him on the cheek, just a little too hard to be called anything but a light slap. "Silly demon. We can't directly interfere with human destiny once things are set in motion."

He bared his teeth. "That's a lie, and you know it." They interfered plenty, when ordered to do so by the vengeful, power-drunk sociopaths who called themselves gods.

Clotho regarded him with sad eyes. "The matter of your soulmate was unfortunate, but it was what she chose."

He snarled at her, not caring if they were sent here by the gods. "How can it be called choice, when she was led to the decision blindly and reeling from betrayal? She was misled. And you allowed it to happen. Your precious gods pretend to be wise and beneficent, when they are nothing but bitter, vengeful old fools, intent on ruining the lives of others for sport!"

Orion inched closer to him, laying a soft hand on his elbow, just the whisper of a touch, but it conveyed a million words. Things like "please don't try to kill the fates and end up dead."

Derek jerked his suit jacket straight and plastered a bland mask on his face once more. "Why are you here? What do you want with me? Say it and be gone."

Atropos pushed to her feet, creaking with age, and came to stare up into his face. "The past is over and done. Mistakes, once made, cannot be erased. But new opportunities can be given with every turn of the wheel of fate."

He stared down at the wizened old hag with her white eyes that were far less blind than she would have others believe. "And what cursed opportunities do you bear now, hag?"

It was Clotho who responded, her voice even and firm. "What you are building here in this place will be important in what's to come. You will be instrumental in stopping the madness. But you, perhaps more than any other, have reason to let the mortal plane fall into ruin. To refuse to assist fate or the gods. Worse, you have the power to turn the tides and help the madness win. You owe us no debt."

Lachesis stared past him, her eyes distant, as if seeing unrealized potential. "The girl. We have unlocked her memories in this reincarnation on the earth plane." She smiled. "A gift to you."

He inhaled slowly past the knife-like pain in his heart. "Forgive me if I am suspicious of a gift from the fates. All the god plane has ever given me are backhanded rewards, and punishments dressed up as commendations."

Clotho shrugged. "The boon has already been granted. The girl will begin to remember who she is. It has already started. And you will be grateful for this second chance."

He narrowed his eyes at her, ready to remind her that it wasn't a "second chance" if he was the one who had been wronged.

But in the time it took him to draw breath, the fates were gone.