Page 3 of Dreams Of Fate

“I bet.” He glances around the room. “Brother, at least open a window. Cast a spell to bring some light to this place.”

“I don’t know.” I tilt my head. “It’s homey.”

“Maybe for a vampire, but not you.” He shudders.

“I like being out here.” I’d rather be in the middle of nowhere than in a city.

“I get it, but I don’t want you to forget there are people who love you. Show your face. Call Mom. She’s blowing up my phone, and popping in at times I don’t want her to,” he grumbles. “Aunt Adeline is sending twenty messages a day. Please, do me a favor and reach out to them.”

Margarete is Rome's mom and raised me as her own. She’s very involved in our lives, and I know she has been worried about me. I owe her for saving my life, and I shouldn’t repay her by ignoring her calls. Aunt Adeline is special to both of us.

“I’ll make it up to all of them. I’m not at my best right now. After I woke up, my energy was fucked. I haven’t done magic for days, so my body is not working how it should.”

“You’re grumpy. We need to get some food in you.” He points toward the kitchen. “There isn’t anything good in there. Get your shit together. Come into town, and we can go out to eat.”

“Yes, Brother,” I drawl.

“Do I need to drive you to make sure you come?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“No, I think I got it.”

“I see you have your bike.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave it behind for long.” Before I visited Jerry, I went back for it.

“While we're waiting for you, I'll explain to Mara and Lace,” he says, moving around me.

“Appreciate it,” I say quietly, following him to the door.

“We do need to make this place more livable.” He stops at the door, opening it, and glancing back. “If you're determined to stay here, it at least needs some upgrades.”

“It was on the list after I woke up from my nightmare,” I say dryly.

“Well, it’s at the top of the list now.” He grins, but slowly his expression loses its humor. He leans toward me and grabs the back of my neck. “I’m glad you’re good.” He presses his forehead against mine. “It was really fucking hard to give you the space you needed.”

“I know. I won’t shut you out again,” I promise, and he eases back.

“Get your ass in the shower, and get on your bike. I’ll expect you in two hours,” he demands, stepping outside.

“Got it.” I stand in the doorway, gripping the frame above my head, watching him leave. Everything he said was true. I tend to shut myself away in misery and neglect what my body needs.

I shut the door and walk to my room. Starting the shower, I let it warm up and go to the closet. My usual style is jeans and T-shirts. Most of my clothes are still in my bags. I didn’t have time to unpack before dealing with Jerry. Picking out dark jeans and a black shirt, I throw them on the bed on the way to the bathroom. I strip and step under the water. The little cabin does need some improvements, starting with a bathroom overhaul. While I’m in town, I’ll find somewhere to order what I need.

Warlocks can have many gifts. We have a base of magic, such as protection spells, location spells, and being invisible to those we don’t want to see us. As we age, we develop our skills with practice and can expand to more advanced magic. Building a fire with our mind or moving objects around the room are a couple of easy spells. Our magic doesn’t come from a spellbook, but within us. It's not the words we use but our intention behind them. Each warlock or witch has a specialty unique to them. As we grow, we discover what that is. I have a talent for influencing others. It works better on humans, but it’s possible to affect a weak shifter.

The world is filled with monsters. Shifters of all kinds, and vampires, are just the beginning. Humans live in their small world, content in their belief that they're at the top of the food chain. If all the supernaturals decided to take over the world, it wouldn’t be hard. Small-minded humans wouldn’t know how to handle the truth of our existence. Witches and warlocks stay in the shadows as much as we can. We don’t like attention, and many of us don’t associate with shifters or vampires. Our secrets are closely guarded, and few know everything we can do.

I turn off the water and step out. Grabbing the towel from the sink, I dry my body, but avoid looking at the tattoo on my side. Our power is represented with ink on our skin. As we gain our gifts and master them, they appear. To others of our kind, they're visible as we see them, bright, with many unnatural colors. A human would see them as any other tattoo. Most of my body is covered, yet there is one part that I hate. It signifies the gift that I've spent weeks recovering from.

A large tree, black, thin, and winding. It started when I was nine, on my side, light, and small. After so many years, it grew and darkened, wrapping around my chest. The branches spiderweb over my pecs. It’s difficult to avoid it, yet I try my best. It has taken years to master my gift of making someone live in their deepest fear. I keep a tight rein on my magic, fearful of deploying the skill at any time. Afraid of trapping someone who doesn’t deserve to die.

Are you afraid of snakes? I can trap you in a cage full of them, living in a never-ending nightmare. They would cover you from head to toe. You would feel their slick skin, hear their rattles, and the strength of their death roll. It would go on and on until your brain and your fear suffocate you. The mind eventually shuts down, and death follows.

The phrase “scared to death” is very real in my world.

Unfortunately, my skill emerged when I was nine. No warning, no idea what I was becoming, and the first person who witnessed it was my mom. She couldn’t protect herself before her nightmare began. I had no control and had no idea what I was doing to her.

I pull on my clothes quickly, hating the visions that flood my mind. There are repercussions for using that particular gift, even though I only use it on bad guys; I fall into my own nightmare for days.