Chapter One
Present Day
Esme
“Happy birthday, Eli.”
I stared at the red velvet cupcake that had a blue candle lit on top. Next to it was another lit cupcake—funfetti flavor—for me. I never cared for red velvet that much, but it was Eli’s favorite, so I endured.
I still celebrated our birthday together.
I blew out his candle first, wishing he was happy wherever he was in the afterlife he chose, and then blew out mine, wishing the same thing I wished for every year.
True love, and for there to be no more pain in the world.
Both were pretty unattainable wishes, but I still closed my eyes and told the universe that’s what I wanted.
I inhaled my funfetti cupcake then went about getting my scrubs on and my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head. Most women my age would be going out at this hour, dressed to slay the hearts of men, and have wild, drunken sex all night.
Me? I was heading into the night shift at the hospital. It paid more, and it made me feel like I was doing something positive, even though the world was going to hell in a handbasket. Ever since that night when the crazy pastor gave people with powers a hallucinogen, there was a civil war in the streets. A quiet one for now, but still it wouldn’t be quiet for long.
I stood in the small bathroom of my one-bedroom apartment looking at my hot mess of a reflection.
“Live hard and love strong, Esme. Be happy.” I pinched my cheeks to add some color to them, reminding myself that I needed to get out more, see the sun. I’d been doing nothing but working my ass off at the hospital, and had added part-time nurse duty at the Hero Society headquarters when they needed me. Phillip called to tell me that the vials of the blood samples I’d taken from each of them had been broken, so I’d need to do another set soon. I’d wanted to examine them for any anomalies, diseases, and vulnerabilities. I’d been helping other people with powers since I became a nurse, and now I would be helping the heroes that risked their lives to save others.
Like me.
I smiled to myself, and then walked into the living room, grabbing my coat and shoes.
My eyes caught a shiny gold light on my arm, and I cursed. I’d almost forgotten to cover up my thread.
I rushed back into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid while I covered up the gold line that was now half the size of my forearm with makeup.
My life thread: a golden shimmer in my vein that ran down the middle of my left arm and had appeared on my sixteenth birthday.
After saving a squirrel our dog had caught, I realized I could heal the hurt.
Eli and I discovered that every time I used my power to heal, the thin gold line would get shorter. Usually not a lot, but it was still nerve-racking, so we threw ourselves into every bit of research we could find. Nothing was making sense until we read about the Fates: three creatures of destiny and life. One sister spun the thread of someone’s life, the second sister determined how long they lived, and the final sister cut the thread, deciding how they died. The gods had golden blood called ichor in their bodies, so their thread could not be cut.
We were sold on the notion that every time I used my powers, I inched closer to death, potentially chopping years off my life with every heal. Whatever the truth was, deep down we both knew that when that golden line disappeared, things would not be good.
Once the gold was covered and my arm appeared normal, I bundled up to face the snow that had started falling outside, grabbed the red velvet cupcake to eat on the way, and walked out the door.
The rent was stupid for such a tiny apartment, but it was close to the hospital. I could walk to work and be there in the event of an emergency.
If I couldn’t save everyone with my powers, then I wanted to save as many as I could the good old-fashioned way—being a nurse.
The cupcake was gone by the time I walked the five minutes to work.
The hospital seemed quiet tonight, but that didn’t mean anything. It was 11:00 p.m. on a Friday. Anything could happen.
I put my coat in my locker and went to the nurses’ station in the ER. Tammy, the second-shift nurse, was just closing out her paperwork when I joined her.
“Have fun.” The poor girl seemed tired as hell, almost sighing the words.
“Get some sleep.” I patted her on the shoulder as she exited the station.
I sat in the wobbly desk chair that needed to be replaced.
