The Fates Trilogy by Kristine Grayson

Author:Kristine Grayson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: magic, true love, los angeles, superman, las vegas, heroes, faerie, dachshund, robin hood, greek gods, zeus, portland oregon, familiars, fates
Publisher: WMG Publishing

Sixteen

The next morning, Travers had definitive proof that he had not been dreaming: he woke up in a king-sized bed in a hotel suite in Las Vegas.

He had hoped that the last week had been some elaborate nightmare, dreamed in installments, rather like a mini-series sent by Mr. Sandman.

Of course, Travers couldn’t get that lucky.

He ordered breakfast from room service, and managed to be showered and dressed long before it arrived. He set the complimentary USA Today next to his chair, since a newspaper was always part of his morning routine, and he waited until the waiter had left and the food was spread on the table before waking Kyle.

Kyle was not—by any stretch—a morning person.

Travers was. Each new day was a new opportunity, and he liked looking at the day as if he were starting over with a clean slate. Only this morning, he felt like the slate was rather smudged, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He had called his office, sent the clients with emergencies to another CPA whose work he respected, and told his secretary to let the rest of his clients know that Travers wouldn’t be back for another week due to family problems.

Kyle staggered out of his own room, and shuffled to the table, looking more like an old man than an eleven-year-old boy. He had splashed water on his face, but forgot to dry it off. His skin was dotted with droplets, his hair slicked back against his scalp. The front of his pajama top was soaking, but Travers didn’t say anything.

Kyle would notice eventually, when he became awake enough.

Right now, he wasn’t even awake enough to notice that his father had ordered him waffles with strawberries and whip cream, a meal that Travers usually called desert and not breakfast. Travers had also ordered a plate of sausages which, he figured, if they didn’t eat them, Bartholomew Fang would. Travers got pancakes for himself, and a fruit bowl, which he would save for later.

The thing that smelled the best, though, was the coffee. Travers didn’t realize how very exhausted he was—the stresses of the last week, and the revelation about himself, had put a strain on him that he wasn’t used to.

Kyle was halfway through his waffle and strawberries before he paused to rub his eyes. Then he stretched, sighed, and returned to his breakfast.

Travers smiled. At least this part of the morning was normal. Kyle would finish eating and soon the conversation would start, as his son slowly realized the day had begun.

Only this time, Travers wasn’t quite as willing as usual to have a conversation. He still had a lot of thinking to do. He no longer doubted that he had magical ability. In fact, his point of view on that had changed so much in the last twenty-four hours that he now wondered how he could have doubted it.

His own capacity for self-delusion startled him. Last night, he had made the mistake of trying to fall asleep by counting the magical incidents that he could remember—anything odd, anything out of the ordinary.

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