Destiny Kills (Myth and Magic 1)

Two massive red pines marked the entrance to the nursing home. We drove in through the wrought-iron gates and followed the curved driveway through the mix of pines and elms until the main buildings came into view. They were an L-shaped and double-story brick affair, surround by lush gardens and yet more elms. Very pretty. Trae stopped the car in the parking area to the left of the building, and I climbed out.

My gaze went automatically to the windows, and I wondered which room was Dad’s.

“Ready?” Trae said.

My gaze jumped to his. “Part of me is afraid.”

“That’s only natural.” He held out his hand. I grabbed the comforter from the car, then walked around and twined my fingers through his. “Come on, let’s go.”

He gave my fingers a slight squeeze, and suddenly I was glad that he was here with me. His presence gave me strength and helped bolster my courage to face what this disease had done to my dad.

We followed the concrete path up to the main reception area. Trae opened the door and ushered me through. A pretty blonde at the reception desk looked up and smiled as we entered.

“Welcome to Twin Pines,” she said cheerfully. “How may we help you?”

“I’m here to see Rian McCree.” I stopped near the desk and shoved my hands in my pockets so that nobody could see just how badly they were shaking.

“You’d be Destiny, then? Doctor Jones has been expecting you. He said to go straight up, and he’ll join you as soon as he finishes his rounds.”

“Thanks. What room is Dad in?”

“He’s in the left wing, subacute care. Just take the elevator to the next floor, then follow the left corridor along to room two twenty-five.”

“Thanks,” I repeated.

Trae cupped my elbow, gently guiding me across to the elevators. He pressed the up button, then reached down and twined his fingers back through mine. “You okay?”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. My throat was too dry.

The elevator doors dinged open. I pressed the button for the next floor and the doors slid shut. The elevator rose smoothly. I guess it would have to in a nursing home.

We got out on the second floor and followed the long left corridor through a double set of swing doors and into an area that was obviously subacute care. The rooms were more sterile than homey, and the sharp smell of antiseptic stung the air.

My stomach was churning so hard as we neared the room I thought I was going to be physically sick. Trae squeezed my hand, and it was his presence more than my own courage that got me through the door.

The frail man on the hospital bed was not the man I remembered. His good arm, visible outside the sheet, was pale and emaciated, and the body under the sheet looked much the same. He had no feet, just heavily wrapped stumps that the sheet only half covered. And the smell . . . Even under the harshness of the antiseptic, I could smell the rot. They hadn’t stopped the gangrene, despite taking his feet.

I stopped, but he must have heard me, because he opened his eyes and looked at me. His face was pale, gaunt, filled with lines that started from his eyes and ran down his cheeks to his chin, until it seemed his skin was little more than a network of deeply drawn trenches. His once-golden hair was white and scraggly, curling around his ears and straggling across his bony forehead.

But his sudden smile was the smile I remembered, filled with warmth and caring and love, even if the body behind it was puckered and sunken.

“Desi,” he whispered, his blue eyes bright with relief and love. “I knew you’d come.”

I bit back a sob and half ran across the room, taking his hand in mine and holding it up to my cheek.

“I’m sorry, Dad. Sorry that I ran off, sorry that I wasn’t here when you needed—”

“Hush,” he interrupted. “None of that’s important now.”

But it was important. Important because while I didn’t regret the reason I left him, the fact was I hadn’t achieved most of the things that I’d set out to do and, as a result, wasn’t here when he needed me.

I kissed his fingers, then said, “I found her, Dad. She’s alive, and she sends her love.”

He closed his eyes. “I knew. I always knew.”

“I couldn’t free her. But she wanted me to come here, wanted me to tell you—”I hesitated, took a deep, quivering breath. “That she will meet you on the forever plains very, very soon.”

He smiled, and it was a good smile, a happy smile. A smile that said he could finally die a contented man. “It’ll be wonderful to see her, after all these years apart.”