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Sleep was hard to come by and I just stared at the dark ceiling turning over everything since I saw that first reaper five months ago. I kept analyzing my every move; playing the ‘if I had done this’ game. To say I had regrets was an understatement, but even if I had never ordered that reaper away from my grandmother, I had a feeling I’d still be in this pickle.
My jaw tightened and I rolled onto my side, staring out the window at the night. Tomorrow, I started my training in this realm. After school, the three of us were heading towards the park on the other side of the highway where there was enough tree cover to disguise what we were doing.
My thoughts drifted from training to the tornado and my stomach turned sour. All those kids. There had to be some way to change the outcome without inciting another riot. If I could just change Fate’s playbook...
I sat up, my eyes widening at the thought.
If I could get my hands on that I could erase the event all together, or at least erase the victim’s names and prevent the storm from tearing through the school.
The space at the end of my bed shimmered and I blinked at the formation of the woman I was learning to hate. This time, her expression didn’t convey distain; instead her gaze was soft, almost friendly. She tossed a bound book to me and I caught it, staring at her.
“What’s this?”
“It’s the book. You aren’t the first one to try to erase a pending disaster. Even if you tear the page from the book, it returns. Erase a name and it reappears. I’m not in control of what is in the book,” she said and took a seat at the end of the bed.
I stared at the ornate cover and flipped it open. The writing was so small it was almost unreadable and I squinted at the dark letters, trying to recognize the words, but it was impossible. The words were foreign to me, in a language far more difficult to decipher than Chinese or Egyptian hieroglyphics. I closed the cover and handed the book back to Fate with my stomach in a tightly wound knot.
She glanced at the book and sighed. “I even tried,” she admitted in a soft whisper and moved her gaze to mine.
“And if I decide to eliminate the tornado like I did in Maine?” I asked.
A sigh escaped and she pressed her lips together, looking away as her face transitioned into the annoyed glare I was used to. “I would be pissed.” She swung her dagger filled gaze back at me. “And that would not bode well for you.”
“But I can change the outcome,” I pressed.
“You can. But the ramifications are much greater because I’d be called upon to correct the error and the reapers would take matters into their own hands. Those that are not of our family lineage want to destroy us.”
“I thought I took care of those reapers last spring.”
A sarcasm-laced laugh filled the room. “No, my friend, that was a fraction of the group and you only succeeded in pissing them off even more. But no one has rallied them. There is no one who wants to take the lead right now, but if you mess with what is supposed to be, I’m afraid they’ll revolt en masse.”
“But you don’t know. Do you?”
The click of her jaw closing gave me the answer. If the playbook was ignored, she had no idea what would happen and the idea of being marginalized didn’t sit well with her.
“Are you so power hungry that you’d destroy the earth in order to make a point?” I blurted the question and her head snapped in my direction, her eyes narrowing to fiery slits and a low growl formed behind her lips. Every fiber wanted to shrink but I held my ground, keeping her furious gaze.
She stood and pointed that finely-manicured finger at me, her red lips pressing so tightly they turned white. “If I could strike you down...”
I crossed my arms and cocked my head in a silent challenge.
“Arrogant, naive fool,” she spat and then disappeared.