“But things change constantly? If nothing else is fixed around these events, how can that be?” I should probably bang my head against the wall for asking. Looking for logic here was akin to asking to speak to the sanest inhabitant of the asylum.
“It doesn’t matter. That one thing will not change.” His eyes shot to Harold’s closed door. “Or hasn’t, until now. One of the most common Locks is when someone is going to die. Not every death is a Lock, just certain people who are slated to move on at very precise times. No matter what these people do, when they wake up that day, they're getting called up. Locks can be getting a job or having a child. There's all different events, but if it's a Lock, it's written in stone.”
“And this person's death was a Lock?” Then why didn’t he fall off the boat and break his neck on the dock or something? What exactly did I do last night?
“Yes. He was supposed to die and he didn't.” Murphy’s eyes were back on me, but I could see them dart to Harold’s door every so often.
I crossed my arms again and then undid them immediately, dropping them into what I thought looked like a relaxed position. “Well, maybe the Universe changed its mind, like Harold said? And what's the big deal? Things will just settle in a different direction.”
Murphy gave me a ‘the transfer isn’t getting it again’ look, but I let this one slide. It was better than the reality of what I was really doing, which was clinging to denial.
“It's sent ripples through everything. I had a job last night that got canceled, minutes before I got there. A Lock event is something woven into the fabric of the Universe and time. It's like taking all the water out of the ocean. It can't be done. I've been here centuries and not once has this happened.”
The air felt like it was thinning. No matter how deeply I tried to breathe, I couldn't get enough. I stared at the door, plotting a direct pathway to it, without having to talk to anyone. I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder.
“Where are you going? Don't you want to stick around and see if we get any more information?” Murphy looked at me, surprised by my imminent departure.
“I forgot I've got to get Smoke some cat food. Call me if you hear anything.”
He nodded and then went to gather at Harold's closed door, where everyone else was still standing.
I needed to get out of the office into the empty hall. Having a panic attack in the middle of everyone might wave a couple of red flags. And since when had I started getting panic attacks? That was easy. Since I’d started hiding things.
I needed to relax and be my normal logical self. It wasn't that big of a deal. So I'd messed up a Lock. So what? Murphy was always melodramatic and overreacted to situations. I just needed to hold it together until I got out of here.
Two more feet to go and a set of fingers wrapped around my arm. I didn't need to look to know who it was.
“What?” I snapped, my nerves getting the best of me.
He dropped his hand, daring me to walk away from him. But he didn't say anything—just stared—and it was a thousand times worse. There was something about the way he looked at me. There was an intensity when his eyes met mine; everything else fell away and all I saw was him. Sometimes it was unsettling but not altogether bad. Other times—like now—it made me want to hide.
When my hands started to fidget, I shoved them in my pockets. Let him stare. It didn't matter.
Then I blurted out, “Are you going to speak?”
He did an obvious scan of the room. It was like he was erecting a visual barricade that told everyone else to keep their distance. We were already separated by a good ten feet in every direction, and after that look, I didn't expect anyone would be coming closer.
I looked around now, too. Yeah, they’d gotten his message and had their own interpretation. “Stop doing that. It looks like we're having a lover's tiff.”
“Where were you last night?” he asked, not caring a bit how it looked.
“I don't answer to you.”
His hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder, but something changed in the way he was looking at me, his eyes softening slightly. “Tell me what's going on.”
If he'd come at me with more bossiness or anger, I might have shut down. But he didn't. I wasn’t sure if it was concern or friendship he was offering, but something in me wanted to respond to it and tell him everything. I needed help, and this was exactly who he was after. He could handle this.
Maybe I'd missed the bug in my condo. Or maybe Lars was playing both sides. But I could trust Fate. It was just something I felt. He'd keep this quiet until we figured out a plan.
I've always been independent but never stupid. There was no denying I could use some help. Being an agency of one wasn’t a lot of fun.
I bit my lower lip as I contemplated the outcome of either choice. Then I nodded. “Come outside with me.” He didn't even know anything yet, but just the prospect of unloading on someone else loosened the vise on my chest. The tension in my muscles unknotted slightly. I didn't have to do this alone.
His eyes softened and he nodded back. He walked toward the door and the moment I started after him, my phone vibrated, alerting me to a new text message. The caller ID told me it was Malokin.
I looked back up as Fate turned to see why I was lagging behind. I didn't want to pull out my spare phone in the middle of the office, but my purse was large enough for me to see the text message that just buzzed its arrival.
I wouldn't do that if you care for Kitty.
I let go of the phone like it was poisonous. How had he known? Was the office bugged too? Was there someone here watching me? My eyes scanned the room frantically. No, it wasn’t anyone here. The only person who had been in both places was Fate and I’d seen every move he’d made in the last two minutes.
The vise around my chest was back and it was even tighter than before. I didn't know how he was getting his information but until I did, I couldn't let anyone in. The feeling was altogether horrible.
Fate's eyes were on me. Don't fidget or act upset. Keep your composure. Remain calm. No, that wasn’t an option, especially not around him. My best option was pretending I was calm.
I walked toward Fate but stopped him with a hand to his arm when he thought I was ready. It was better to tell him here, than alone outside.
“You know, right now isn't a good time, actually. I think maybe tomorrow would be better.” I rattled on another few sentences about bad timing, not even aware of what I was saying anymore, just spewing out whatever line I thought would stall him.
His deep-set eyes sunk even deeper with the furrow that formed on his brow. My excuses picked up their tempo until his stare, so condemning, robbed me of my voice altogether.
“What was that?” His eyes went right to my purse.
“What do you mean?” I pulled the strap up firmer on my shoulder and tucked my purse snugly under my arm as I answered.
“What did you just look at in there?” His fingers went to grab it, but I turned so that he couldn't.
“Nothing.”
“Show it to me.” His hands were firm on the straps now, and I started to wonder if we were going to end up in a brawl over possession of my purse.
“What I do is my business.” I yanked my purse out of his hands and took a step back.
He wasn't going to concede. This was going to get ugly, and it was going to happen in the middle of the office, with everyone watching. Alone might have been the better choice. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow.
“Please, not here. Not now.”
There was the slightest softening around his mouth, but I didn't know if it was going to be enough to make him let it go.
“Fate!”
We both turned to see one of Mother's gardeners coming down the hall.
“Mother's having a tizzy,” he said, winded as he stopped next to us, oblivious to the tension.
Fate looked at the gardener. “Not now.”
The guy visibly swallowed and then blurted out quickly, “But she says she's going to take out the entire continent of South America.”