Better Than Losing You

Chapter 6

"Slipped?" repeated the man, his voice strangely clear under the mask. "Why, I wouldn't say I 'slipped' it to you. That's a word with unpleasant connotations. I'd rather say I gifted it to you."

"Hah," laughed Gray, uncomfortable with the man's airs. "And I can't say I really appreciated your 'gift.'"

"Come now, Grayson," said the man, running a hand along the brim of his hat. "What a rude thing to say."

Gray narrowed his eyes. "You remembered my name?"

"Of course. I never forget a name. You wouldn't happen to remember mine, would you?"

Gray grinned and licked his teeth. "Wryd, wasn't it? Just admit it, that's not your real name. You only told me that so I wouldn't find you again." He was already so angry about the watch that the words came spilling out.

Despite his rudeness, the man seemed unphased.

"I assure you," he began, his voice calm. "I am who I say I am." A frightening light appeared in his dark eyes.

"And who exactly is that?" asked Gray slowly, a slither of fear crawling down his spine. This man wasn't normal. Every instinct in his body screamed that much. The only question was what was so off about him?

"Who are you?" repeated Gray carefully, moving a step closer to the man. "I mean, who – or what – are you really?'

The man grinned, seeming to like this question. "I am That Which Must Be," he replied, gazing at Gray with an unblinking, penetrating stare. "I go by many names: Wyrd, Destiny, Fate. I control the happenings of this world. I know those who are destined for life, and those," he glanced at Claire. "Who are destined for death."

Gray felt all the blood run from his face. "You don't mean..."

"Yes," continued Wyrd. "That woman was always fated to die young. It's nothing personal," he added, seeing the enraged light in Gray's eyes. "It's just the course she must take in this life."

"So that was why this stupid watch kept on glitching?" shot Gray. "It wasn't because it was broken, but because it couldn't contradict the reality you had in mind?"

"You are highly intelligent, Grayson Atlin," congratulated Wyrd. "Most are not as receptive to that kind of message."

"Nor am I," growled Gray. "I'm not buying it. You gave me that watch with a purpose in mind. I remember what you said to me. You asked if I was really willing to do anything to bring her back, then left me stuck with this thing." He waved the watch in the man's face.

Gray thought he saw him lift an eyebrow in amusement. "You draw too many false conclusions," he exclaimed. "I never said that the watch could save your woman."

Gray was taken aback. "Then what were you talking about?" he demanded, desperation seeping into the words. "How can I save her? Or is there no way, and you were just toying with me all this time."

Wyrd didn't respond. He let out a low laugh, seeming to enjoy some unknown joke.

"You know," he began. "The answer to your question is really quite simple."

"It – it is?" stuttered Gray.

"Yes. I am not the inexorable, inevitable Fate the Greeks believed me to be. I am really quite flexible, and quite ready to bargain if tempted with something strong enough."

"Something strong enough?" echoed Gray, perplexed.

A cruel light shone in the Fate's eyes. "A prize for another of equal worth. A trade off."