Page 4 of Charmed By Destiny

“You aren’t staying in Vegas?” Luke asked, an unsettling feeling clawing through his belly. It was one thing to discuss being abandoned; it was quite another to be dropped off at some casino and expect complete strangers to provide for him.

“Can’t do that, Luke. Dipping all your cash into a single casino isn’t a winning strategy.”

“But there are tons of casinos in Vegas.”

“Are you going to let me do this my way?” Foxe asked belligerently. “You don’t gamble, you don’t understand how to win. I do. I gotta stay on the move.”

“But we lived in the same place for almost a decade.”

“Why are you arguing with me about this?” Foxe asked with a scowl. “That was different. We had options if things got sticky. But thanks to my insensitive asshole brother, I had to adjust my plans.”

“If I had a job, you could get a place nearby though. I’m not even sure I need to work for these Marwoods.”

“Luke, it’s safety. They’re necros. You don’t have to hide what you are. If humans find out about us, you fuck up things for everyone. Is that what you want? To ruin the lives of countless necros and inspirits because you’re being stubborn? I’m helping you out here. If this dude is legit, you literally have nothing to worry about.”

Luke swallowed the lump in his throat. It was apparent Foxe had put a great deal of thought into his plan despite his recent education about these Marwoods. How long had Foxe been planning on dumping him? How had this stranger initiated a conversation about abandoned inspirits unless Foxe was trying to unload Luke?

Had Luke grown into a liability somehow? He’d thought Foxe considered him his best friend and family. Was he wrong?

“I’m not sure, Foxe. I thought we were a team.”

“What’s fucking changed? We’re still a team. You’ll be working and earning some money so we can build our lives. I can’t work regular hours. When would I have time to be in the casino?”

Luke wanted to point out that if Foxe stayed away from casinos, he’d be able to keep the money he earned, but it was an old argument. Foxe didn’t want a traditional job and refused to consider one—even temporarily. To Foxe, gainful employment was beneath someone of his skill and intelligence. That arrogant side of Foxe raised Luke’s hackles, but he’d learned how futile it was to fight with him about it years ago.

However, as flawed as Foxe was, that didn’t mean Luke wanted him out of his life. Or that he was comfortable being dropped into the laps of strangers who’d supposedly provide everything for him.

“Foxe, what would they hire me to do? I don’t have any professional skills. I’ve done odd jobs, but that’s it. Why would they hand me anything if I can’t earn my pay?”

“The dude I met said they’ll train you. He’s got an inspirit working for the Marwoods. He saw the guy last year. Ran into him at a Marwood casino in Monte Carlo or some shit. Says the inspirit was happy. He’d met his soulmate too.”

Although Foxe had explained a little about the concept of soulmates to Luke, he had his doubts. Luke was an optimist by nature, but he couldn’t wrap his brain around the happy thought that someday he’d find someone perfect for him. And that he’d know they were meant to be together because some big sign would be given to him.

It was far too unbelievable a thought for Luke’s pragmatic mind. Would some giant arrow appear above their head if they were walking down the street? Luke hadn’t bothered to ask. It was foolishness brought on by the fantastical meandering of Foxe’s mind after a few too many drinks.

“Right.”

“Soulmates exist.”

“You don’t have one, how do you know?”

“My parents were soulmates.”

Luke wanted to demand proof, but he didn’t want to upset Foxe. The last time he’d brought up Weston, Foxe had cried for almost two days. Some dark part of Luke had wondered if Foxe was mourning the loss of his father or the steady income he’d provided. It was probably wrong of him, but Weston and Foxe hadn’t been in regular contact.

In fact, Foxe had had nothing kind to say about his father until the man mysteriously died. Foxe had gone from calling him names and complaining about his miserly ways to praising the man while wondering aloud if his own brother had murdered him.

“Luke, everything is going to be okay. These Marwoods will take care of you until we can figure out our future. But you can’t contact me constantly. If they find out you have a necro, you’ll get fired. And don’t forget the most important rule.”

Luke bit his lip as nerves dug deep into his bones. Foxe was his family and best friend. The thought of not being with him was difficult to grasp. The entire situation was a shock, and Luke hoped the necro Foxe had befriended was full of shit. Although Luke wanted to earn an honest paycheck and have some stability, he didn’t want to be abandoned.

“I know, I know. If there are any destiny-touched, run like hell.”

Many inspirits were given gifts from their necromancers, and Luke was no exception. But his had a weird twist. Destiny-touched necros were hunted, so Foxe had imbued Luke with the ability to detect them. However, it wasn’t to harm them.

Foxe knew danger surrounded the destiny-touched, and he wanted no part of it. So, Luke’s job was to alert Foxe if he detected one of the rare sorcerers—something Luke had only done once—so they could get the hell away. Foxe wanted to be far from anyone with murderous intentions, and he rightly worried about any immortal being willing to set aside morality.

If they were willing to end someone’s life for being born with special abilities, Foxe reasoned they could find any excuse to kill someone. He didn’t want to be their next victim. Neither did Luke.

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