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The quartet moved closer to the train, shoving at each other the way younger boys so often did. One of them stumbled and the others laughed, but it wasn’t a good-natured laugh. They were playing at friendship. Theirs was a rivalry. Two of them were connected by the shared secret of a violent crime in their recent past. One of those and a different one would ultimately be connected by hatred that would culminate in both their deaths. The colors they all so proudly wore that evening were little more than a temporary truce.
Fenn could see all of it, because all of it connected to their deaths. Such was his own fate.
“I suppose I can understand your concern, then,” Cassian said at length. “I’ll keep my eyes open, but at this moment, nothing seems off-kilter. Perhaps that person’s survival is best explained by their own story. What do you know of them?”
Fenn clutched tighter to his defenseless phone. “Not much.”
Cassian made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. “Well fix that. You are Death. If they survived contact with you, it’s somewhat important we know how.”
When he said it so directly Fenn was hard-pressed to ignore the logic. He wondered, for a moment, if he should explain the bit he did know.
“If necessary, one of the others can eliminate them,” Cassian said before Fenn could respond.
The added explanation died in the back of Fenn’s throat. Cassian was looking at the situation purely from the perspective of the Four. He saw only that someone—presumably not an ancient god—had survived the touch of Death. Maybe he thought that meant Fenn hadtriedto kill her, even. From that perspective, the person in question could well be a threat. But Fenn couldn’t pretend to consider her assassination. He doubted the others would strike without solid reason, but the sudden concern filled him with an odd urgency and Fenn straightened.
It was all he could do to keep his voice level. “I’ll look into it, then.” He disconnected before he could say anything else. Or lose his temper at his eternal colleague. He was going to have to put himself in Sienna’s company again … no matter how dangerous he feared that would prove to be.
Sienna dropped onto her couch after doing everything else she could think of to distract herself. She’d showered, edited and scheduled all her prepped content for the holiday weekend, and called her best friend. Of course, by the time she’d tried that, Sherri had been passed out in bed. Gossip wasn’t worth waking her so she’d told Sherri’s husband not to worry and hung up. But none of it had worked.
She still couldn’t stop thinking about Fenn.
With a sigh, she picked up her phone and called the only person she knew would still be up and therefore forgiving of a non-emergency call so late at night. Her workaholic oldest sister, Piper.
“Please don’t tell me you’ve been staring at a computer screen until now,” Piper said by way of greeting.
Sienna rolled her eyes. “I did have some projects to touch up,” she said, “but that didn’t even take two hours. And is totally not why I’m calling.”
“Well I assume there’s a reason,” Piper said. “Most things could probably wait until Saturday.”
“I know, I know, I’m being dramatic, okay?” Sienna twisted around on her couch and let her legs hang off the stuffed armrest. “I don’t think even you will believe how bad my date tonight went, but technically that’s not why I’m calling.” She drew a nervous breath. Why had she opted to call her strait-laced sister? “You know the guy I’ve had those recurring visions of?”
Piper was quiet for a second. “I remember the description, if that’s what you mean.”
“I met him tonight,” Sienna blurted before she could chicken out.
“You what?” Piper drew an audible breath. “Was he your Mr. Thursday?”
Sienna cringed. “Ugh, no. Eddie was—” Guilt sparked for a moment in her stomach and she paused to swallow it down. “That’s a different story. The guy from my recurring visions is Fenn. I met Fenn at the restaurant tonight, and there’s something … I don’t know how to explain it. Something different about him.”
Piper sighed. “The dark, mysterious, anguished figure who always appeared with bloody hands? Of course there’s something different about him. Sienna, I know you’ve been curious about him, but bloodstained hands is aglaringmetaphor. Please stay away from him. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Gods, Piper, I’m not a child,” Sienna said. “Haven’t you considered that maybe my vision doesn’t mean what it looks like?”
“Your visions are usually pretty literal.”
“Okay, fine. Then at some point in his near future, since he looked like he does now, he’s going to come across a terribly bloody scene and try to save someone’s life, hence the bloody hands and anguished expressions. Totally possible.”
Piper hesitated. “Yes,” she said, slowly.
“You’re the one who just pointed out my visions aren’t prone to metaphor.”
Piper groaned the way she often did when her head was starting to hurt. “I did say that. Fine. Maybe there’s an explanation. That doesn’t mean you aren’t safer away from him.”
Sienna thumped her head against the cushions of her sofa. “No way can I basically dream about a man I’ve never met for over a decade, run into him by pure coincidence, and then justlet go. Have you met me?”
“Sienna Jacobsen,” Piper said, sharpening her tone. She was going to be a terrifying mother if she ever let a guy close enough. “I’m asking you to seriously consider that those dreams have been a warning. Maybe that was the best your clairvoyance could offer in terms of showing you your own future.”
Sienna pursed her lips. She honestly didn’t know why she ever tried to gossip with Piper. Ever since their parents had died, Piper had become the firm, no-nonsense sibling. “Yeah, maybe,” she said. “But I’ve never been able to change the outcomes of what I see, either. So I might as well live it up.” She swung herself upright and jabbed at the phone before her sister could retort. The movement left her dizzy, but all she had to do was drop the phone at her side before she could lower her head into her hands.I’m an idiot.
