Forever 21

10 | Finding a Purpose

"It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?" ~ Henry David Thoreau

It was few hours after midnight when I heard a knock on my door. Sure that it was Aidaen come to escort me to a late dinner, I took my time answering it. He hadn't said anything earlier about my slip up at The Oracle and in my mortification, neither had I. For once I didn't feel particularly hungry, but again, that might just be my embarrassment speaking.

My unease was for naught. Opening the door, I was relieved to see Fate. He held out a mug to me and I instinctively reached for it knowing its contents the moment I laid eyes on it. "May I come in?"

I shuffled aside allowing him entry and he moved past me with his trademark fluid grace. Inhaling as subtly as possible, I tried not to make it obvious that I was smelling him. Thinking about it made me feel downright creepy.

"You've unpacked, I see."

Glancing around my now tidy room, I gave a nod of acknowledgement and closed my door.

"Yeah."

A fire crackled in the fireplace, the cardboard boxes that had stored my things fueling the pretty display. It wouldn't burn for long, but then again, it wasn't meant to. Fate stared into the flames, still as a statue.

"I can't remember the last time anyone used this fireplace." He looked at me then, and I took a sip from the mug he'd given me so I wouldn't feel the need to fill the silence.

Pulling out the antique chair that was situated in front of my 18th century dressing table, he sat down, his right ankle resting atop his left knee. "What did you do today?"

His small talk surprised me but I was grateful for it. It helped relax me a bit. I sat on my bed indian style and thought back about my day.

"I met Luckey at your quote, unquote 'kitchen'. Went to The Oracle and met Petra after that. It was pretty uneventful," I shrugged, "if you consider cross country trips to Louisiana all in a day's work."

Or trips in to my past wherein my best friend has a mysterious history with my maker, I silently added.

People watcher that I've always been, I noticed Fate sit a little taller at my mention of The Oracle. Rubbing my head as a small headache formed behind my eyes, I paused to give him a chance to either answer my question or ask a follow up question of his own.

"How was Aidaen?"

My mind automatically jumped back to my not so accidental taste test of his blood, which I promptly tried to forget by remembing every other interaction I'd had with him. I supposed he'd been helpful in his own way with his million and one rules that I doubted even he remembered. And pained as I was to admit it, even his attempt at seduction had been fruitful. It had given me the opportunity to figure out a way break his hold on me. Only because he let you, a small voice in my head said. Though I wouldn't quite call Aidaen a gentleman he could have, with little effort on his part, made me do more than just stare at him. Vampiric immunity to compulsion be damned. He was uncannily good at getting under my guard. Stupid Incubi and their magnetism. There had to be some way to practice resisting it; I was hoping whatever Petra had planned for me included help with that as well.

The silence stretched as I fumbled for an answer. Not wanting it to become awkward, something I clearly excelled at, I responded with the first innocuous comment that came to mind.

"He made me cry?"

Would it be too much to ask to be less like me and more like Ivy? She had always had a way with words. God, I missed her. Lucky for me Fate didn't seem to notice.