Fate: California Obscura

“Yes. He had to pay for what he did.”

“You’re right. Their death had to be avenged.”

He exhaled slowly, then ran his hand over the curve of my shoulder and asked, “Why do our conversations keep taking such serious turns?”

“It’s just a part of truly getting to know each other. I don’t think anyone can ever really understand another person without knowing the bad stuff they lived through. In my case, those events changed me, and they still affect me. It’s why I try to be totally self-sufficient, and why I tend to withdraw from the world.”

“In what way do you withdraw?”

“I have very few friends, and I’ve gotten to the point where I barely leave the house,” I admitted. “I guess I just feel safest there.”

“You must get lonely.”

“I did, especially after Griffin got married. It got to the point that I actually tried a dating app, but what I wanted more than anything was just to make a new friend.”

“I find myself wanting to beat up every single person you dated,” he said. “I’d like to say it’s because of the mate bond, but I might actually be that possessive.”

“There was only one. Actually, I met him the same night Carter found me. I couldn’t even go through with kissing him, and he left after about fifteen minutes.” My phone was on the nightstand, and I reached for it as I said, “Now that I’m thinking about it, I really should delete my dating profile.”

“Yes you should, but show me first. I’m really curious.” Elias grinned at me, and we both sat up a bit.

“Okay, but don’t laugh.” I accessed the app with a few taps of the screen, and when I handed him the phone, Elias burst out laughing. I chuckled too and asked, “What did I just say?”

“I’m sorry, but this is hilarious. You used a picture of a bulldog for your dating profile.”

“Technically, that’s a picture of me.” He started laughing again, and I grinned and said, “Well, what was I going to do, use a photo of what I look like now? Rule number one when hiding from a fated mate is don’t post pictures online.”

“That makes sense. Let’s see what you wrote here,” he said, as he scrolled down. “Matt, age twenty-seven, mechanic. You aren’t five-foot-ten.”

“I’m also not twenty-seven.”

“Can you imagine if you listed your real age?” I chuckled at that as he kept reading. “This doesn’t say much. I was hoping for insights into what you’re looking for in a man.”

“I’m looking for you.”

He smiled at me as he returned my phone. “You really weren’t, not when you wrote that.”

“I was stupid. Here I was, trying to date frogs while hiding from a prince.”

“Can I see the guy you decided to meet?”

“Why, still thinking about beating him up?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

As I pulled up Logan’s profile, I said, “We chatted for a few days, mostly about cars. Then I decided to take a chance and invite him over, because he seemed like a nice guy.”

When I showed him the screen, Elias said, “That’s a picture of a blue car.”

“More specifically, it’s a picture of a 1970 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. That’s what I liked about him, we shared a mutual love of ‘60s and ‘70s muscle cars.”

“Did you ever see what that guy looked like before inviting him over? Or was the car photo all you needed to find him attractive?” His tone was light, teasing.

“We exchanged photos after we’d been chatting a couple of days,” I said, as I scrolled through the messages we’d exchanged. “I’ll show you what he sent me.” When I found the picture, I murmured, “What the hell?”

“What’s wrong?”

I stared at the photo of a blue-eyed brunet on my screen. Then I turned to Elias and told him, “This isn’t the man I met. So, who the hell was in my house?”

Chapter 11

Elias looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

I turned to him and asked, “Did you send someone else to find me? A scout maybe, since Carter showed up a few hours later?”

“The only person helping Carter look for you was Desiree,” Elias told me. “Please start from the beginning and tell me what happened.”

“I talked to this guy online for a few days. His name’s Logan. We even video chatted at one point, so I know I was talking to the guy in that photo. But that’s not the person who came to my house. For some reason, I thought it was when I saw him. He even had the blue Trans Am, but he didn’t look anything like the man in that picture.”

“What did he look like?”

I paused to think about that. “I remember brown eyes and blond hair. The rest is hazy, as if…”

“As if someone put a perception spell on you and made you see what they wanted you to.”