Page 48 of Tear of Destiny

I have a suspicion that the door Kate saw was the one I tried to summon last time I was there. I can’t pretend I’m not afraid of returning there after hearing her premonition. But at the same time, I feel the pressure increasing.

I take a deep breath, zip up the dress, and pin up my hair. I have to set aside all thoughts of Kate and her prophecy for now. First, I need to get through this event. But I quickly reach for my phone and fill Noah in on the latest.

I end the message by saying, “We should go back to the Odyss as soon as possible so I can try to summon the door again.”

At that moment, somebody knocks on my door. It must be Mr. Collins come to get me. He’s going to drive me to the Fabricis’ house where the party is being held. I don’t feel too comfortable about it, but the principal insisted.

“Are you ready?” he asks when I open the door.

I nod and follow him out to the parking lot. He opens the front passenger door for me, so I sit there. He doesn’t say much for most of the drive, which is fine by me. I was afraid he might use the time to lecture me about Ayden. But apparently, he’s not interested in having that conversation with me. Or preparing me for the meeting with the Council members.

“Do you know who’ll be there?” I eventually ask.

“Members of the three most important families,” he replies, terse and cool.

At least I know their names now: Cunningham, Fabrici, and Montrell.

Mr. Collins turns right and drives into a parking garage under a large building. I’m awestruck by the fleeting glimpse of its facade. The walls are illuminated, and the pale sandstone gleams palatially. Lights glitter behind large windows. Ornate gables and little statues hint at how expensive this property must be.

We ride up the elevator, and as soon as the doors open with a soft ping, I hear voices. The hallway that Mr. Collins and I stepinto is lined with rugs. The walls are paneled wood, and there are statues here too, of warriors from exotic cultures. Valuable-looking paintings adorn the walls, mostly in modern styles that I know nothing about. Many objects are decorated with gold – vases, pitchers, and figurines. There are a few indoor plants, which bring some life to it all.

An employee in a suit takes our jackets and opens a set of double glass doors for us. The hubbub subsides abruptly as countless pairs of eyes turn toward me.

I’m startled. I wasn’t expecting this many people. There are at least fifty guests in the room. If this is only three families, then they’ve dragged along every member. I know that each of these families runs its businesses as a clan. Meaning that uncles, aunts, cousins, sons, daughters, and grandchildren are employed by the family business. They probably need such large clans to divide up the managerial positions because their areas of business are exceptionally diverse.

I gulp and try to meet their gazes without letting my nervousness show. Mr. Collins walks into the room, and I follow him. But they all literally turn their heads to stare at me. And they’re all dolled up as if they’re going to the Academy Awards. The women wear long dresses embroidered with sparkling diamantes or trimmed with lace. Their hair is elaborately styled, and precious gems glitter on their fingers, wrists, necks, and ears. I’m so glad that Kate convinced me to wear this dress – at least I don’t look totally underdressed.

The men are all in suits, some of them even wearing tailcoats. Their pocket handkerchiefs and cufflinks look expensive, and I’m sure they were very carefully selected.

A woman with dark curly hair and a delicate figure encased in a black skin-tight dress approaches me. She extends her gloved hand and introduces herself.

“Marcella Fabrici. Delighted to welcome you to my home. Ihope you enjoy the evening. Everything is taken care of.”

As if responding to some invisible signal, a waiter comes and hands me a glass of orange juice.

“The buffet is over there,” she continues. “Please help yourself. And I look forward to chatting with you later.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” I say.

She acknowledges this with a nod and turns around. “Edoardo, come here.”

A man with dark brown hair streaked with the first signs of gray comes to join us. His dark brown eyes scrutinize me, but they look kind, and this is reinforced by his smile. “Now I finally get to meet you. It’s an absolute pleasure. Edoardo Fabrici. You’ve already met our son Alessandro. May I also introduce Alfredo. He’s five years older than Alessandro and studies at Yale.”

A young man steps forward. He has wavy hair and eyes that are as dark as his father’s but lack their warmth. His lips are thin and severe. There’s no hint of friendliness in his face, only cool disinterest and an expression that I find extremely arrogant.

“Pleased to meet you,” he says, shaking my hand. “So, you’re Teresa Franklin, with the gift of seeing destiny threads. Very interesting, and I hear you only recently became aware of our world. It’s surprising that such a talent should surface in someone like you.”

“Yes, nature is fantastic and full of surprises,” I retort, trying hard not to sound too aggressive. “No matter how much humans try to control and tame it. Who knows? Maybe there’s a reason that someone like me wound up with this ability.”

“Hmm, or it’s pure coincidence. And whether anything good can come of it, only time will tell.”

“So you still believe in coincidence? Considering everything you know about the goddesses?” I can’t resist asking. “That’s amazing.”

His lips narrow even more, and his eyes flash angrily at me. ButI pretend not to notice.

“Alfredo doesn’t think much of the goddesses,” explains his father. “He doesn’t see the point in hunting them and killing them only so that their powers are slightly weakened and passed on to a new goddess. He believes we’re wasting our time. In his opinion, we key carriers need to evolve to become stronger than the goddesses.”

Alfredo nods. “Anything else is just an endless waste of effort and resources.”

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