expression that settled on his face was not a happy one. “It depends on the oracle’s lineage. Some oracles are used to locate people or things. Others can predict the future, but that line isn’t as strong as it used to be. Some can read minds.” He leaned against the wall, close to the small side table at one end of my couch. His hands idly spun the small, decorative globe I had on display, because he couldn’t contain his nervous energy. “And a few read fate.”
He’d always had trouble staying still, but tonight I heard weariness in his voice, which was something I’d never noticed before. I studied Teryl’s face and saw lines of worry. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a slight frown.
On most people, the look wouldn’t be a big deal. We have days that are up and days that are down. But Teryl is a perpetual optimist. My brown-haired, brown-eyed friend is always smiling and joking. He’s engaged to a perfectly nice woman named Clio. I swear, they were made for each other. She works for my father, and since she transferred to the London office months ago, Teryl has become increasingly unhappy.
Right now, he was subdued and quiet as he revealed the types of oracles. The normal spark in his eyes was gone. He seemed a little lost. The words coming out of his mouth were a far cry from his usual jokes and devil-may-care persona.
What he was describing seemed surreal. I tried to wrap my brain around the last skill he’d mentioned. “Read fates? Sort of like the Greek Fates and the threads of life?”
He shook his head slowly, and folded his arms as he looked up from the spot on the floor that had held his gaze. “Not quite. When one of us is born,” he gestured to each of us, “our fate is read and recorded at birth.”
“It’s a summary of your life and potential,” Jax added.
Okay, that still didn’t tell me much. “So, only oracles get to read these?”
“No, the fates are sealed until the recipient is old enough or the family decides they’re ready. Most of us get ours by the time we hit double digits.” Teryl shrugged. “But it’s really up to your parents or guardian. It’s a personal thing, so it doesn’t come up in regular conversation. They’re not known to anyone but you and anyone you choose to tell.”
Jax answered my unspoken question. “Your father would have yours or know where it is. As would the oracle who read it.”
“You both have yours?”
The men nodded. Teryl put his glass down on the coffee table and sat in my favorite chair. “You could say it’s a rite of passage. For humans, it’s a big deal to turn sixteen to drive, eighteen to graduate, and twenty-one to drink. For us, it’s a big deal to be deemed ready and worthy to know your fate.”
Now I was confused. If I was part of this, where was my fate? Better yet, why was all of this news to me?
“Why didn’t I get mine?” At twenty-seven, I had a feeling I was behind the curve with this one.
“That’s a good question,” Jax answered, his face pensive. “What would Warlow have to gain by keeping it from you? I’ve never heard of anyone not receiving one.”
If my father had it, I wasn’t about to go ask him about it. The last time I’d seen him had been at my mother’s funeral, when I’d accused him of murder. The smug bastard had smiled and tried to placate me in front of the horrified guests. A phone call or visit with him was out of the question.
Teryl drummed his fingers against his thighs. “If we knew the oracle who read your fate, we could track it down. Each oracle keeps a record of the fates they read. It goes into the Library of Shadows.”
I held up a hand. “Okay, wait a second. Let’s deal with one issue at a time. I don’t need to hear about secret libraries, the intricacies of the different types of oracles, and who was on the grassy knoll.”
Teryl shot me an irritated look, one I’d never seen before my father had moved Clio across the ocean. It was one I’d been getting used to seeing more and more often. “I was answering your questions.”
“I know.” I rubbed my brow and took a deep breath. “This is a lot to take in at one time, so let’s get