Threads of Fate

by Lexi Esme

“Uh, Gary,” I venture hesitantly, my voice just above the tinny pattering of rain against the car roof. Gary glances at me quickly in the rearview mirror, and then his eyes fall back on the road ahead. “This isn’t the way to my house." I go on, a little more sharply now. "Maybe you should turn on the GPS. I don’t want you to get lost.” Gary snorts. “Relax. This is a shortcut. I take this way all the time to get to your home.” I furrow my brows, trying to think back to the last time I invited him over. I can't dredge up a memory of it. “I'm sorry, when have you been to my house?” His silence makes the short hairs on the back of my neck stand. “When have you been to my house?” I repeat. He only continues to stare forward. “Do you remember when you came to Visionaries to work for me?" He asks offhandedly, catching me off-guard. "I do. It was one of the best days of my life. You were so impressive during your interview. I knew I was going to hire you. And over the years, I never once regretted the decision. Not once.” I watch as the number on the speedometer increases from forty miles per hour to sixty. The click of the locks makes me jump in my seat, and I suddenly feel claustrophobic. I can't find any words to say, so I keep quiet. Gary doesn't seem to notice, because he keeps on without pause. “It didn’t take long for me to fall madly in love with you.” He chuckled harshly. “And you rejected me.” “I don’t date people I work with. It's a rule of mine...Besides, you’re my bos...

Oh shit girl

“Well, this is a turn of events,” he says hazily. “I don’t understand. I-Is this a dream? Wha-How...Why are you here?” I stammer. Only a soft chuckle escapes his lips, as though he too is incredulous. "I could ask you the same thing." Then he gives me a small smile, revealing a glint of needle-sharp, inch-long fangs. “You brought me here, Amata.” “I told you, my name is Rhianne, and no– I don’t think I did.” I try to retract my hand, but he curls his fingers gently around mine and runs his soft lips lightly across the knuckles of my hand. I can't help the ripple of electricity, and the shiver that comes and goes through me. “You called out to me. And I know your name. I addressed you as Amata for a reason.” I scarcely dare to breathe, “And why's that?” He lifts a hand to caress the side of my face, making warmth crawl up my neck and cheeks. “Because where I’m from, Amata is a term of affection we give to our destined wives.”

"Only our wives can command us. You called out to me, and here I am. If I weren’t tied to you, that wouldn’t have happened. It’s fated, Amata...”