Page 91 of Touched By Destiny

“I’m done,” Eric replied through the door, which was whipped open seconds later.

“Good, I need to eat something besides chips,” Seamor growled as he dragged Eric back to the chair and repeated the process of shackling him to it.

“Are we supposed to feed him?” Seamor’s brother asked.

Seamor shrugged. “Don’t care. Let’s go.”

They disappeared through the door of the suite, and Eric was alone. His stomach growled at the mention of food, but Eric would be stupid to consume anything at this point. Although he desperately wanted even a sip of water, he couldn’t trust these people not to doctor it. Who owned the oddly empty house? Why was Eric here? He dearly wanted answers to his questions, but he was also scared shitless.

Had he been dragged all the way to California to be killed? Would he become yet another destiny-touched necromancer murdered to keep the secret of their magic from humans? And how had his captor explained any of this to the men who’d abducted Eric? They were glaringly human. They also knew Eric could speak to ghosts.

Had they bought the rumor that he was nothing more than a barely mediocre medium? Or were Eric’s suspicions correct and another necromancer was to blame for the manacles pinning Eric to the thick wooden chair? Instead of allowing his mind to spin over possibilities, Eric needed to focus on how to get the fuck out of the house.

Before Eric could make a list or experiment, the door opened, and his jaw went slack. A man with dark hair and eyes the same shade of blue as his father’s walked in, wearing a smile.

“Uncle Alden?” Eric exclaimed as his mind reeled in shock.

“Surprised? I don’t know why you would be. Surely you must’ve known this was coming,” Alden replied, securing the door behind him.

“I don’t understand.”

“Destiny-touched,” Alden spat. “I was lured into believing people like you needed my protection. My mother died at the hands of a normal necromancer. Clark and I were going to avenge her by learning what we could about those born with that skull on their hands. You have gifts. That is undeniable. But at what price?”

Eric took a deep breath and wondered what alternate universe he’d fallen into. His own uncle had kidnapped him. How could he believe Eric would betray the necromancers by revealing his gifts to humans? It was Alden who’d trusted humans to trick him into leaving his house. It was Alden who’d risked exposing them. The betrayal was too overwhelming to comprehend. How would Maribeth deal with this treachery? Or Eric’s parents?

“I’ve never done anything to alert any human that I’m different from them,” Eric countered.

Discovering it was a blood relative responsible for his capture was no comfort. In fact, Eric’s fear was growing. Alden had taken steps from which there was no return. How would he explain to the rest of the Marwoods where Eric had gone? Was Alden brazen enough to pretend he had no clue? What about Gabriel and the other inspirits responsible for his safety?

If they found Eric before his uncle went through whatever diabolic plan he’d contrived, Alden would be exposed to the Marwoods for his duplicity. Surely Alden would’ve factored that in and considered it worth the risk. Which meant Alden had no fear of any consequences. He was dangerous. Far more hazardous than someone setting out to exterminate a random destiny-touched necromancer.

“I don’t care about humans,” Alden retorted. “Malleable creatures easily manipulated. I needed them, so I did what it took to befriend Rylee and her brothers. It was disgustingly easy to get her into bed. They don’t know about magic. They couldn’tunderstand what we can do, could they? No. I just slowly convinced them we needed you. The young medium who would reunite me with my loved ones. Talk to my ghosts and give me peace.”

Eric’s face scrunched in disbelief. “You convinced them to kidnap me so you could use my skills as a medium?”

His uncle laughed, and it sent an icy chill down Eric’s spine. “Oh, yes, I spoke of family feuds and how the ghosts of the Marwood speak to you alone. There could be no other medium. But you denied my repeated requests. Kept me from the spirit of my late wife. From my dear mother and father. Me, the tragic hero. And you…you’re the villain in this little play. They hate you, you know. Our fight was petty, you see. Your demands for using your gifts are far too steep a price for anyone to pay. To them, you’re a greedy, conniving liar who manipulated me. Lied to a grieving man trying to pick up his life.”

“But…but isn’t Mari here? How did you convince her to—”

“This isn’t an interview,” Alden snapped. “And I’m not here to answer your questions. But I find this entertaining enough that I’ll tell you about my dear daughter. And how your parents have brainwashed her to keep her from her only living parent. She can’t talk about your gifts. Not without revealing our secrets. And we’ve been apart a long time. Maribeth is desperate for even a second with her father. She fit in with my plan perfectly. The fool girl doesn’t even know she’s become an accomplice to your end. Without her, I wouldn’t know your schedule. She’s the one who casually dropped that Clark had dragged Gabriel away for a meeting and you’d be home with just Rosalind and David. Neither of them would pose a threat. I shudder to think what Nariko would think of her only daughter now.”

“You’re the one who abandoned Mari,” Eric countered, his voice vibrating with his fury. Alden was in control, and Eric was at his mercy. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t resourceful or that he’d sit there and mewl.

“Like I care what you think.”

“So, what? You’re going to kill me? Is that I’m why here?”

Alden leaned over Eric’s chair and laid his hands over the manacles keeping Eric shackled to the thick wooden chair. “I wasn’t expecting such a fight from you. Such an agreeable child. Never defying your parents. Mooning over that inspirit. Took some time to find an opportunity with you far from Gabriel and few inspirits around the house. I knew a night would come when you would be without a guard. I just had to be patient.”

With Alden’s breath feathering over his face, Eric refused to give in to the fear clenching his heart. His uncle had made a mistake. It might not be enough to save Eric, but Takoda had been in the room above the garage. He’d been witness to everything and would have reported everything he saw with his exceptional vision to Gabriel.

“You’re a fucking fool,” Eric stated quietly, keeping his voice level. “I’m never alone. Especially not after your friends started following me.”

“You’re lying,” Alden replied. He straightened and shrugged nonchalantly. “And even if you aren’t, it will do you little good. I have plans for you. The spirits will talk. Then you’ll die for stealing Nariko from me. I figured it out. For the destiny-touched to exist, a sacrifice must be made. Rosalind and Clark were desperate to have a child with your gifts. They beseeched anyone who would listen. It made Nariko sick. And she died so you could be born. The only foolish thing I’ve done is take over two decades to realize it. You would’ve been so much easier to kill as a child. Any requests for a last meal?”

Eric was dealing with a madman. And Alden had a mission. One he would not be swayed from. It was up to Eric to ensure he didn’t die in the next few hours. Eric couldn’t wait for a rescue. With what wits he had left and his gifts, he had to find a way out. He’d get no sympathy from Alden. Nor would Alden get his cooperation.

“Fuck you,” Eric said, his nails digging into the armrests as his legs trembled with a mixture of constrained fury and terror.

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