Visions of Destiny (Complete Series) Page 19

  Woods took a step or two backwards when Brett’s voice trailed off, and Daisy glanced at him, wondering why he seemed so wary all of a sudden. She understood when Brett’s voice rose again, filled with panic.

  “I can’t remember their names! How could I have forgotten already? I loved them! I mean, I will love them. Or do I love them already? It’s so damn confusing!” He started raising a hand to his hair, but stopped when he noticed the notepad still in it. “What was I even writing?”

  “On the edge,” Daisy said quietly, hoping to calm him down. “You said you wanted to write ‘on the edge.’”

  If anything, her words appeared to confuse Brett even further. “But on the edge of what? What does it mean?”

  Daisy glanced at Woods, but if he knew, he didn’t look like he wanted to tell Brett. “I don’t know,” she said gently. “You just said you wanted to remember it.”

  “On the edge,” Brett repeated. He licked his lips as though tasting the words, then frowned. “It sounds… familiar. But I’m not sure if I heard it before or if it’s left from the vision.” Turning to Woods, he made a pleading gesture toward him. “Sam, do you know—”

  Woods shook his head, hands raised palms out in front of him in a defensive gesture. “Don’t ask me.”

  Brett practically glared at him. “But I forgot their names! Don’t you remember them?”

  If Brett’s agitation troubled Woods, he didn’t show it. “I do. But I’m not going to tell you.” His tone remained perfectly level, to the point that Daisy herself felt some indignation on Brett’s behalf.

  “Don’t be rude,” she admonished Woods, crossing her arms and stepping forward to glare at him. “He’s asking a simple question.”

  Woods continued to appear unperturbed. “Suppose I tell him,” he said calmly. “He’s so agitated, he’ll talk about them and forget again. And ask me again. We could spend all night playing that game and still get nowhere. Been there, done that, believe me.” Turning to Brett, he clasped his shoulder. “Didn’t you say just a minute ago that you’d rather forget?”

  Brett appeared to deflate. “I did,” he conceded. “But… It really will happen? I… I was happy, wasn’t I?” He pushed his fingers through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. “I remember that. I remember they loved me. Really loved me. They will, won’t they?”

  His voice and eyes held the same pleading, the same hint of desperation that Daisy had seen in him earlier, when he had admitted he had never truly been in love, and she felt bad for him all over again.

  “They will,” Woods said more kindly now. “Whether you remember names or not.”

  “Names?” Brett’s eyebrows shot up, right along with the pitch of his voice. “Plural? I will love more than one person?”

  Woods cast a slightly frustrated glance toward Daisy as though to take her to witness, and now she could understand why he didn’t want to answer Brett’s questions. Brett seemed to be forgetting faster and faster.

  “Brett?” Daisy cut in softly, drawing his wild gaze to her. “You look parched. Maybe a drink would help your thoughts calm down?”

  He blinked several times before nodding, the tip of his tongue running between his lips. “Yeah,” he breathed and repeated the word again a little louder. “Yeah. I think it’d help. Thanks, Daisy. For…” Once again, he looked like he was reaching for words, for a memory just out of his grasp. He soon gave up and shrugged, offering her an apologetic grin. “I’m not sure what. But it feels important. So, thanks.”

  Smiling softly, Daisy shook her head. “You’re welcome.”

  She opened the window for him, and patted his shoulder affectionately when he passed by her. He gave her a vague smile and went inside; his steps wavered slightly, as though he were a little drunk.

  When Daisy looked back at Woods, he stood at his now customary spot against the railing. He glanced toward her, and it was as good as an invitation to join him as he had ever given her.

  Tightening the shawl over her shoulders, she went to stand next to him. Her elbow brushed against his on the banister, and she shivered, although it had nothing to do with the cool night air. Woods was looking out at the ocean again, but she kept her eyes on him when she asked, “Does it happen often that they forget it all just moments after they see it?”

  Woods shrugged and glanced at her. “Not often, but it does happen, yes. Sometimes what they see is just too far removed from their current lives and their minds can’t wrap around it. I think that was the case with Brett.”

  “But he’ll be happy?” Daisy asked softly, afraid that she was pushing Woods’ limits again, yet unable to resist asking.

  For a moment, Woods was silent, and Daisy wasn’t sure he would reply, then a small smile broke upon his lips, and he ducked his head a little, looking at Daisy from beneath his eyelashes. “He looked pretty damn happy to me,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “Lucky bastard, if you ask me.”

  The little knot of dread that had formed at the bottom of Daisy’s stomach when she had heard Brett mention vampires loosened a little, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. “He’s a good man,” she said, the words as much for herself as they were for Woods. She had known Brett since her first year in college, and she had always liked him, his humor, how hard he worked for what he wanted. He was an inspiration to those who knew him, her included. “He deserves to be happy.”

  A long moment passed before Woods answered, and when he did, quiet words drifting toward the ocean, she didn’t know what she could possibly have answered.

  “Don’t we all?” Woods murmured, and he had never sounded so sad.

  Sixth Vision of Destiny - Cathleen

  With Woods’ last words still playing through her mind, Daisy remained silent for a long moment. He was right, of course; they all deserved happiness. And so far all of her friends who had received a vision of their future from Woods appeared to have found that. It seemed that only Woods himself had yet to discover who would love him and make his life a little brighter. Years of looking, and no result so far; it had to be hard on him. Daisy wished she hadn’t known how hard it was from her own personal experience.

  They both stood by the banister on the balcony, looking out at the ocean in front of them. The waves gleamed under the moon and there seemed to be fewer boats out in the bay than there had been earlier that night. The smell of the ocean rose towards them with each gust of wind and Daisy pulled her shawl a little more tightly over her shoulders. She had always loved this view, had always thought it didn’t need words to be appreciated. But as beautiful and peaceful as the landscape was, Daisy doubted that Woods was taking it in any more than she was at that moment.

  As the evening progressed, she had discovered more about him than she had wanted to know when she had called him to ask if he would “read” her friends’ future. She had thought at the time that her role would be nothing more than to play hostess and make sure that everyone greeted the arrival of the New Year with good food, good wine and good spirit. Somehow she was spending a lot more time with Woods than she had anticipated—and having a much more civilized conversation with him than they had during their first meeting. Most disconcerting of all, she realized he wanted the same thing he offered every person to whom he gave a vision of their future: he wanted love. She still thought he was going about it in a strange way.

  Below their feet, the tide was slowly waning and while earlier the beach had only been a narrow band of sand, no wider than thirty yards, soon it would stretch for a couple hundred yards from the base of the cottage. Every once in a blue moon, the ocean would come up to lick at the cottage’s pillar foundations. Tonight the low tide would uncover seashells, gleaming in the moonlight like treasure half-buried in the sand, waiting for those who would take a midnight stroll by the ocean. Daisy thought that she might enjoy that, after Woods was done and her friends had left. She wasn’t sure she would be able to s
leep right away when her mind was so full with questions and thoughts.

  “How many more?” Woods finally asked, pushing away from the balcony banister and turning back toward the cottage. Daisy turned as well. Through the French windows, they couldn’t see her friends assembled in the dining room, but they could hear indistinct voices.

  “Let’s see,” Daisy said, and started counting aloud. “Cathleen is next, I think. Then there’s Brad—Joan’s boyfriend—and Rachel.”

  Woods nodded absently, a tiny frown drawing his eyebrows together and darkening his gaze.

  “Are you getting tired?” Daisy asked.

  When she had first invited him to hold a ‘séance’ for her friends he had said that he could read up to ten people in one evening, but she was beginning to think that was stretching it. He had only read five so far, but with each new person, more lines seemed to appear at the corners of his eyes and his lips didn’t curl up in a smile as readily.

  “If you’d like another break, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  “I’m not tired,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just…” He trailed off as though searching for the right word, and eventually gave up with another shake of head. “Yeah, I guess you could say tired. Mentally exhausted.”

  “What does it feel like to you?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

  Woods didn’t respond at once and she wondered if that was something else he didn’t share with others. But after a few moments he finally answered, turning back toward the ocean as he did.

  “It’s like… I’m watching a movie, I suppose. Except in a movie you usually know something about the characters. With this, all I know is what I see or hear. Sometimes, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

  Daisy leaned sideways against the banister and observed him closely. She hadn’t expected this. After his reluctance to talk about his visions so far, she hadn’t thought he’d open about the process either. She couldn’t help but push a little further, more curious than she had thought she would be.

  “Why wouldn’t it make sense? I thought you saw everything they did.”

  His hands were tight on the wooden rail, his body tense, and once more she thought he wouldn’t answer. Again, he proved her wrong. His eyes were staring ahead of him at the ocean but his gaze was so unfocused that she wondered if he could see anything. When he spoke, it was in a quiet, slow voice that hinted he’d never told this to anyone before.

  “I do. But sometimes, that one crucial moment when they make their decision is all in their head. All they do is think for a while and then pick up the phone and tell someone yes or no, or get in the car and go somewhere. When that happens, it’s pretty dull.”

  “From what Brett said,” she countered, challenging, “his vision was far from dull.”

  Woods blinked, as though awakening from one of his visions, and sighed as he shook his head lightly. “I told you, I’d like it much better if the visions remained rated PG.”

  Daisy gave him a flat, incredulous look. “That’s hard to believe.”

  Turning to her, Woods frowned and considered her for a moment before he asked, “Why?”

  “Because you’re a guy,” she said with a snort. “Because you’ve got your own private pornos playing out in your head and I refuse to believe you don’t enjoy that.”

  Woods’ sigh was even deeper than the last one. He turned an indulgent look to Daisy, as though she had been a child who was trying to understand concepts too advanced for her.

  “I did enjoy it in the beginning,” he conceded. “Seventeen, eighteen years old, with hormones raging inside me?” He chuckled and shook his head, looking down to the beach below them. “Oh yeah. I thought I was set for life. And then…”

  He trailed off, his smile disappearing.

  “And then what?” Daisy pushed again when he didn’t continue.

  “And then all my friends got girlfriends,” he said quietly, and there was no trace of amusement left in his words. “They looked happy. And every woman I dated was destined to be with someone else and they knew it just as soon as I did.”

  He paused for a moment, beginning again without Daisy needing to urge him on, but now bitterness burst from every one of his words.

  “Watching pornos?” He snorted. “By the time I was twenty, I never wanted to see a porno again. I just wanted—”

  He stopped abruptly and gave her a quick look. Were those spots of color, high on his cheeks, the beginning of a blush?

  Facing the ocean again, he cleared his throat and didn’t add anything. It struck Daisy suddenly that he had to be very lonely. She knew, much better than she wished she did, how hard it could be to remain single when you longed for a romantic relationship; but for Woods it went beyond that. It wasn’t simply that he wanted someone to share his life with and wasn’t finding that person; the whole situation was worse because he was, more or less, a matchmaker, and what he offered everyone he worked with he couldn’t even find himself.

  She was beginning to feel a little sorry for him and tried to think of something to say, something encouraging or comforting, but before she could find the words someone cleared their throat behind them. Both she and Woods turned to find Cathleen standing on the threshold of the balcony, arms wrapped around herself against the cool night air. She had slipped out of her high-heels and rocked nervously on the balls of her bare feet.

  “Hey. Are you still doing the vision thing?” she asked with a hesitant smile toward Woods. “Or do you need a longer break?”

  Woods gestured for her to step out and join them. “No, it’s been long enough. Let’s see what life has in store for you.” He held his hand out to her. “Cathleen, wasn’t it?”

  She approached and took his hand. “That’s it, yes.”

  As they shook hands, Woods smiled at Cathleen, a wide, pleasant smile that made her smile back in reply. Out of the blue, Daisy felt a pang of something like jealousy slice through her, like the unexpected cut from a too sharp knife, blood welling up before the pain was even known. But it couldn’t be jealousy, could it? What reason did she have to be jealous?

  Cathleen turned a slightly sheepish grin at her. “Daisy, honey, do you mind leaving us alone?”

  “Of course.” The words fell graciously from Daisy’s lips, but an odd reluctance kept her movements slow, sluggish as she stepped off the balcony. She even stopped halfway there and slipped the shawl off her shoulders, turning back to offer it to Cathleen.

  “The wind is kind of cool,” she explained and Cathleen smiled at her gratefully.

  As Daisy closed the window, watching them exchange words she couldn’t hear anymore, she wondered if Cathleen was Woods’ type. She was a few years older than Daisy, closer in age to Woods and maybe he liked that; he had admitted he had been attracted to Daisy’s older sister, after all. Could Cathleen possibly be the one he was waiting for? Could he be the man Cathleen sometimes talked about with longing, that man that would make her laugh, that would surprise her? A romantic man, a little wild—the man she had confided to Daisy that she had all but given up on finding?

  Daisy had watched the beginning of every single vision so far, observing Woods as he kissed women and men alike to share his visions with them. This time she turned away as they started leaning toward each other. She returned to the dining room without a backward look.

  * * * *

  The elevator pinged and stopped on the second floor. The woman walked out, her hand closed over her child’s. The little boy turned back to wave at Cathleen and she waved back at him, smiling. He couldn’t have been more than four. She watched their joined hands as they walked away and her own hands, fingers laced together in front of her, tightened in remembrance of what it had felt like to hold on to a child like that. Another ping and the doors started closing again.

  At the moment they met with a whisper of metal against m
etal, even before the elevator started moving again, Alex’s fingers slipped around her waist. She laughed quietly when he drew her to him, her body pressed against his so tightly that she could feel his strength—and his cock, aroused and thick against her hip. His muscles flexed beneath her touch when she clutched his arms.

  “Now can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice a sensual whisper.

  She couldn’t even force a single word out but nodded, eyes staring fixedly at his mouth, the plump lips she had watched all throughout the rehearsal dinner. She had been thinking of this moment all night, every time she had looked across the table and found him watching her, every time his foot had ventured toward hers and found it for a moment before she had shied away again, every time someone had offered a toast and they had clinked their glasses together, ‘accidentally’ brushing their fingers together.

  And every time the women sitting on either side of him had laughed at what he said, every time either of them had leaned in to say something to him, Cathleen’s heart had tightened. The feeling was even more unpleasant because she was the one who insisted that he not give away he was already seeing someone.

  When he pressed his mouth to hers she sighed quietly and closed her eyes, releasing her yearning from the past few hours and the guilt she always felt at being with him like this.

  His tongue caressed her lips but she resisted granting him entrance at once, drawing out the moment a little longer. She always laughed when he complained, always teased him about the impatience of youth. What she never said was that the faster they kissed, the sooner it ended, and she wanted this to last a little longer.