Page 29 of Ruled By Fate

“Did they say anything?” he asked. “Brianna, what did they say?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember,” she cried, trying to fight back the rising panic. “Who was that? Is this a part of that… those things that attacked me? That killed my mother?”

His hands tightened around hers, but she wrenched herself away.

“Why is everyone after me?” she demanded. “Why is this happening? I haven’t done anything, alright? I’m just a girl who moved to Virginia. I’m just trying to start fresh—”

“I know,” he interrupted hastily. “I know that, and I promise it’s going to be alright. There’s a chance it was just a nightmare. These last few days would be enough to give anyone bad dreams.”

She drew in a deep breath, making a conscious effort to unclench her fists. “And if it’s not just a nightmare?”

He took a single look at her face, then decided not to answer the question.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he murmured soothingly. “Over breakfast. For now, you need to get some real sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.”

She was too shaken to press, so she simply nodded. It wasn’t until he got up to leave and made it to the door that she abruptly panicked. “Cameron?”

He turned immediately. “Yes?”

There was a pause. “Could you stay?”

He hesitated a moment, then returned to her side. “Always.”

The two lay down beside each other, and she thought again that he must have some soporific power. Because despite her pounding heartbeat, despite the fact that her nails had torn frightened little holes into the duvet, it only took a few minutes before she was fast asleep. A deep, dreamless sleep. One where nightmares could never reach her, whatever they might mean.

She never saw the way the angel’s eyes rested with worry on her pendant.

She never noticed its faint, eerie glow.

Chapter Six: The Inimitable Sherry Walker

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Brie awoke the next day to the most wonderful smell in all the world.

Fresh coffee.

She quickly dressed and brushed her teeth and hair, threw some extra scrubs and a water bottle in her backpack, and made her way to the kitchen, only to find herself in the middle of the most ridiculous argument she’d ever heard.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. Please rephrase in the form of a question.”

“So help me, you infernal rectangle, if you do not bring back the old lady’s breakfast lesson this instant, I will feed you to the pit locusts.”

She pulled in a breath, then stepped around the corner. “Good morning. Making friends, I see.”

Cameron whirled around, hiding his hands behind his back, splattered in some strange, globulous combination of flour and milk. He recovered quickly. “Good morning. I was just communing with your… your phone.” He shot the thing a dark look. “For a being devoted to the provision of knowledge, it is irritatingly withholding.”

He looked adorable. There was no other word for it.

His chestnut hair tumbled into his eyes. A dusting of flour powdered his cheek. His bashful expression made Brie feel the way she’d felt about Mr. DiCaprio when she was twelve.

She flashed a grin, cheerful despite herself. “You tried to make me pancakes?”

He glanced behind him, and with a flick of his finger, all evidence was erased. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I appreciate the effort, but I’m not in the mood for pancakes. I want answers.”

His eyes grew grave. “Yes. I thought you might.”

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