Dark's Destiny

Chapter 1“I’m so sorry for your loss. Pru was an angel.” Destiny smiled warmly at Mrs. Jameson, one of the regular customers at Treasures Old and New, Destiny’s deceased great aunt’s bookstore. “Thank you. I definitely miss her.” “At least you stepped in. I was afraid the family would sell the store or just shut it down.” Destiny slipped Mrs. Jameson’s purchases into a plastic bag. “I would have fought tooth and nail for this place. Thankfully, Aunt Pru thought ahead and made provision.” Not that the store made enough money for the rest of the family to bicker over ownership. It never had. Rich, she’d never be, not financially, anyway. But it paid the bills, if one was frugal. Fortunately, Destiny did frugal well. “You’ll do nicely.” Mrs. Jameson patted Destiny’s hand and took her bag in hand. “Pru was an absolute delight. Let me tell you, she’d try anything once.” Mrs. Jameson glanced around before leaning in close enough for Destiny to see that her blue hair was natural, or she had a recent, well-done coloring. “Pru and I spent a week at a nudist colony every year. It was the greatest time ever. Very freeing.” Blinking, Destiny gaped at the older woman. “Yep, that’s right. We both decided to follow a wild hair and ended up on vacation at a clothing-optional resort. We had a blast. So much so, that we made a pact to do it every year.” She smiled warmly. “That was the thing about Pru, she didn’t give a damn what society thought about such things. She just went with her gut. Had so much fun.” Mrs. Jameson giggled. “Oh, the times we had.” Destiny’s face heated. She’d taken over the store two weeks ago and had learned more about her eccentric aunt in that time than she had in her entire life. That said something, considering she spent every summer with Aunt Pru, working at this very store, from age thirteen through twenty-three when she graduated with her master’s degree in botany. A full-time job stole her summers after that, but she still made sure to visit when she could. More than one returning customer spoke of some amazing adventures they’d either heard about or experienced with Pru. All were complimentary and grinned as they briefly told their tales, letting Destiny know how much Pru had made them laugh and smile and improved their lives in some odd, kooky way. Although, this one took the cake. “Aunt Pru was a nudist?” Mrs. Jameson waved her free hand. “By strict definition, probably not. I filed it under experimentation, though.” She winked at Destiny. “Glad to see you back. I know Pru wanted you to follow in her footsteps.” Destiny waved with a small smile on her face. Follow in her footsteps? In some of the wild adventures my aunt supposedly enjoyed? Oh, no. No. No. No. Not my cup of tea. Destiny had always hugged the line of orderly, responsible, and downright predictable. Her parents had split up when she was in elementary school. As an only child, she was shuttled from one to the other and back again, after getting an earful at that home about the downfalls of the other parent. Better than listening to the endless fighting, but still more than enough to nearly shatter her world. She found control and peace in routine. Schoolwork became an escape route where she could excel. Books allowed her to visit other locations, places she could forget her turbulent life for a short time. More than once she wished she were a character in a favorite story in order to step into their role for a while. To know happiness, love, and have faith that a happily ever after would always arrive, sooner or later. Aunt Pru gave her that. Each summer, Destiny moved in with her mother’s aunt, helped around the house, and spent each day at the bookstore. She’d never really considered that Aunt Pru groomed her to take over one day, not in those early years. As she reached college age, Aunt Pru piled on more responsibility and hinted about her future plans. Now, with twenty-twenty hindsight, she saw the writing on the wall. Pru had gone over every aspect of the business throughout that period of time, ensuring Destiny understood the process, everything from ordering books and picking out which ones to carry, to learning to judge a book by other than its cover. That included people. So, when the lawyer called to tell Destiny about the will’s contents, Destiny wasn’t completely shocked. She immediately put in her notice at the mundane data entry job she worked, packed up her apartment, and moved into Pru’s house—this time permanently. That was two weeks ago. Two weeks of chaos just now starting to settle into a routine. “Destiny? The delivery man dropped off a big box. Do you want me to go through it?” Destiny turned her attention to Shannon, her front desk clerk who dreamed of becoming a living statue model. She practiced often enough at the cash register. Today, the twenty-something year old wore a flowing light green, long-sleeved dress that brought out the deeper hues of her eyes, with tan sandals. Her shoulder-length brunette hair swayed with each movement, showing off the natural waves. For years Destiny would have given anything to have curly hair, especially the undulating locks that Shannon sported. Instead, she’d been blessed with long, thick, straight chestnut hair that no perm could tackle. She’d given up years ago and learned to braid. “No, thanks. I’ll see to them. Just help out the customers.” “No problem.” She walked to the counter, struck a pose, and smiled. Destiny shook her head and headed to the back. Pru might have chosen workers with a bit of flair, but at least they were accountable and trustworthy. Thus, Destiny didn’t mind Shannon multi-tasking now and again. Her other employee, Martha, had the day off. Martha had proven to be a godsend when it came to managing the business. She knew all the ins and outs, had basically run the show as Pru’s heart failure worsened, and filled in until Destiny could relocate and get her sea legs. She and Pru had been best friends for decades. The loss hit her as hard as or even harder than the blood relatives. Destiny paused, considered Pru and Martha’s relationship with a new perspective, considering what she’d learned minutes ago, then shrugged. Whatever made Pru and Martha happy was right for them. Destiny never judged. Or tried hard not to. She stood firmly in the ranks of live and let live. Without further ado, Destiny made her way to the back, found the cardboard box, cut the tape, and began sorting the new books into piles. Pru always made sure to keep plenty of bestsellers, brand new releases, along with the old standbys. She also maintained a large collection of antique books from all corners of the earth. Both rare and sometimes fragile, those books held a special place in the store and back at Pru’s home. “What do you mean you don’t have it? I’ve tracked it here. Even spoke to another worker, and she assured me that this book was here.” The man’s baritone voice, soft but clipped, caught Destiny’s attention, along with his frustration-filled tone. She stepped back to catch a glimpse. A gasp escaped as her heart picked up speed the second she laid eyes on the tall man with jet-black hair. He wore a form-fitting light-blue oxford shirt and jeans. They showed off wide shoulders, a narrower waist, and muscled thighs. Not an ounce of fat. Not with that physique. Destiny swallowed hard and let her gaze roam for a few seconds longer, taking in the remarkable sight. His chin caught her attention. The squareness promised stubbornness while his full lips suggested decadent softness. A straight nose oddly enough carried an arrogant air while his cheek bones angled just enough to give him a mystical flair. More like she imagined a hunky French fencer of old instead of a modern-day businessman. His build and carriage suggested a gladiator from times past or even a warrior in the great battles for English rule. Unable to tear her gaze away, she took in the sight with a mixture of awe, appreciation, and longing. Until he looked over Shannon’s head and pinned Destiny’s gaze. Bright cobalt-blue eyes sparked with emotion, most likely irritation judging by his conversation, and snared her attention. More than that, they bored through her very soul and read her like a proverbial paperback. “I’m sorry, sir. Yes, the written receipt she made up is right here. Unfortunately, the book isn’t on the usual holding shelf. I’ll be more than happy to look elsewhere, especially as you pre-paid for the novel.” Shannon hurried to another corner and started riffling through a stack of hardbacks. Destiny swallowed and attempted to kick her majorly distracted mind back into gear. Before her stood the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Even with a scowl, he had the hormones pumping through her blood. Oh, good grief. She forced herself to look away and chill. No sense getting all hot and bothered over an irate customer. Destiny set the handful of novels aside and strode to the front desk. Sometimes being the boss wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Shannon hurried into the back room, apparently preferring to unload the delivery rather than deal with a difficult customer. “Can I help you?” Destiny prided herself on the light tone of her voice. Much better than the breathless quality she’d expected. The man’s gaze locked on her once again. His eyes narrowed before his flattened lips eased at the corners. Not quite a smile, but less threatening and irate than before. “Are you in charge?” “Yes.” She leaned her stomach against the counter. “What can I help you find?” He studied her for a moment before resting his hands on the old wood. “Drýcræft Diht and Mengtmg.” She widened her eyes. “Dry crafts and mint?” His forehead furrowed. “Drýcræft Diht and Mengtmg.” The flowing European accent pushed on her arousal button all the more. Not quite British, but not quite American. More like Irish upper class meets southern California. The unusual combination fit him well and added to his already immense appeal. “Loosely translated it’s Magical Direction and Preparation.” He glared down at her as if she were denser than a goose. “Oh.” Like I speak Gaelic or Egyptian or some such. Her dander flared. “Have you checked the section containing the books on magic?” His stern expression returned with a vengeance. “I’ve checked all over this store. It’s not here.” He lowered his head to her eye level. “I was told this book was here. Was promised it would be set aside. The clerk found the receipt left by the owner. I have mine as well.” He pulled out a folded piece of paper and showed it to Destiny. “We made the transaction over the phone and online. As you can see, I’ve already paid for the book. So. Where. Is. It?” An invisible spark zinged between them, hitting her like an arc of static electricity. Wow. Intense he can do. “Okay. Okay. Let me think.” She tapped her chin. “You said you spoke to someone. Do you remember who?” “Supposedly the owner. She said she had the book in her antique collection and would tag it for me.” Destiny’s shoulders slumped as she began to put the pieces together. “How long ago was this?” “Four weeks and three days. I wasn’t able to drop what I was doing to make the trip to pick it up right then. She promised to save it for me when I could break free.” She sighed. “You must have spoken to my great aunt, then.” The man nodded once. “She sounded elderly. So where is she?” Sadness and grief returned. She forced them aside. “She passed away over three weeks ago.” The man’s eyes widened for a second before he composed himself. A flash of sympathy crossed his face. “I’m sorry for your loss. And you are?” “Destiny Jones, her great niece.” “Darkin Arthur. Most people call me Dark.”