Page 21 of Mostly Shattered

“I’ve seen death that should not be there,” Mortimer states. “Time has an overlap like it’s been folded and twisted in all the wrong ways.”

I stiffen and hold my breath. Does he know about the other timeline? And what is this about more death? I don’t want more death in my life.

“Who?” Astrid’s expression shows no fear, but she is more alert.

“You,” Mortimer directs a nod at Astrid, “Davis and Anthony.”

No. Not again.

A wave of panic fills me and centers in my chest. I start to speak but am cut off.

“Anthony should be here.” My father doesn’t say it, but I know he thinks there isn’t any way I could help during a crisis.

“No. Tamara should be here,” Mortimer says. “There is nothing for Anthony to do at the moment. No need to worry him.”

“As far as I can ascertain, Tamara lives.” Mortimer refuses to look at me. “Every divination I performed in the last year has changed. I think the birthday fire was meant for the three of you, but it got Conrad instead. That seems to be where the ripple in the timeline starts. I honestly don’t know what has caused this shift in destiny, but we must act to disrupt this timeline. Clearly, Tamara is not under threat for being magical, but she is a Devine. If anything were to happen to the three of you, she would inherit everything. I don’t know who is planning an attack, but it’s ingenious.”

A sense of overwhelm fills me. I fight the memories of their previous deaths, of standing outside the Devine mausoleum with Mortimer, watching as pallbearers carried three coffins inside. I remember thinking the gothic entryway reminded me of a giant evil beast consuming my family like a meal.

“It’s up to you now, Tamara,”Mortimer had said to me in that alternate life. He might not remember the conversation, but I do.“The bloodline must be preserved and protected above all else. You’re too innocent to know it, but rival factions within our world will try to use you as a pawn because of who you are and the position you now control. Everyone is watching. Your mortality makes you vulnerable. There are those who would take advantage. But I don’t want you to worry. I’ll take care of everything. You might be the last of mybrother’s line, but we can fix that. You will be expected to carry on the legacy by marrying a person of great magic. I’ll have to find the right spells, of course, but I’m sure we can have you pregnant with an heir within a year.”

I blink rapidly to get the images of the past that didn’t happen out of my head.

“The visions keep coming, each one worse than the last,” Mortimer mutters, his hand brushing nervously over the edges of his suit jacket. He paces the length of the room while he speaks. “Shadowy figures… power beyond our reach… it’s all closing in around the family. I’ve seen this very building collapse.”

I frown, hating the creeping sensation of dread that settles in my stomach. Mortimer always had a cryptic streak to him, mumbling about some unseen threats, but this time, there’s a nervous edge to his voice that cannot be ignored. There’s a genuine fear beneath his showmanship. I can see that my parents notice it as well.

“You want me to marry.” It’s the only answer that makes sense. Of course, he’d come back around to this crap-filled idea when faced with the same situation as before.

Mortimer clears his throat in surprise that I guessed his plan. “Well, actually, yes.”

“No.” The word slips out of me before I can stop it. I was repulsed the first time Iheard his idea of turning me into a supernatural broodmare. I don’t want to hear it again.

Here’s the truth about predictions—especially forced predictions—they’re more like high probabilities. They don’t come organically from the universe.

“Are you sure?” my father asks.

“Yes,” Mortimer answers.

“No,” I repeat at the same time.

“An alliance with the right family will offer all of us protection.” Mortimer disregards my protest.

“Don’t leave everything to me,” I put forth. “Make a new will. Leave it to Mortimer. I won’t protest.”

I don’t want control over any of it, anyway. I want to find a way out of the family drama, not dig deeper into it.

“You know I would handle the Devine holdings in your absence if I could, but that was never my path.” Mortimer rejects my idea. “I would, of course, counsel the children if the need arose.”

It says a lot that Mortimer isn’t eager to take over the family business. He knows the burden of it. I think he might also suspect he doesn’t carry the same respect as my father in the supernatural world. I’m sure there is a lot of history there that they think I’m too mortal and too young to know about.

“It is my belief,” Mortimer continues, “that even though Tamara is mortal due to unknown?—”

“She knows,” Astrid interrupts. “I told her.”

“—that even though Tamara inherited her mortality,” Mortimer easily amends, “she still has Devine blood. With the right spells, she could carry a supernatural child as long as she marries a person of great magic.”

I don’t bother to explain that babies do not require marriage.

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