Daughter of Destiny Read Free

un-wrapped
it, and popped it in her mouth. Tart lemon tang made her saliva
glands water and she sucked in her cheeks for a minute before
getting accustomed to the sour flavor. Naia eyed the bowl,
wondering if they were all sour. The clear cellophane divulged
nothing, but she refused to act like a little kid at Easter taking
a bite out of each one.
    She hesitated in front of
the refrigerator, grimacing in preparation for whatever horror
lurked inside. Naia opened the refrigerator and her jaw dropped.
Milk, juice, eggs, fresh fruit, even vegetables filled the shelves.
"Kat?" She called out. "Did you have an epiphany and decide that
grocery shopping isn’t one of Dante’s circles of hell?" She took
out the milk and heard a muffled sound that might have been
laughter, or maybe muttered insults. She closed the fridge and
opened the pantry. It too had transformed into an unfamiliar
repository of food instead of a handy place to shove excess
clutter. She pushed aside cans of fruits and vegetables. "Good
lord! Are these alphabetized?" After a bit of rummaging she found a
canister of drinking chocolate. Gone were the days when she and Kat
made do with high fructose, carob-soy blended crap.
    Several minutes later,
Katarina answered, her voice growing louder as she neared the
kitchen. "I’m paying the neighbor’s kid from across the hall to do
the shopping for me. She’s fourteen and too young to get a real
job. She also organized the kitchen. Too bad she doesn't like
dusting as much as alphabetizing my can goods." Katarina walked
into the kitchen. Water spotted her pale blue pajamas a darker blue
wherever it dripped from her damp hair. "You gotta love cheap
labor."
    Naia frowned. "I don’t
think you should have strange people in the apartment."
    "She needs the money even
more than I need the help or the groceries for that matter. Her mom
is raising her on a waitress' income and her dad died of Reaper
f our years ago. When her mom has to work a double, I let the
kid crash here and gorge herself silly. She’s harmless and
honest."
    "She’s a teenager Kat!
Lying is what they do!"
    Katarina gave Naia a
knowing look. "You would know, eh?"
    "Do you know how many times
I fibbed about where I was going or what I was doing?"
    "I have a fairly good idea.
Just as I know Lena lies about not having a boyfriend and never
having seen an R-rated movie, but she never lies about how much the
groceries cost or whether she used my computer or comm
console."
    Naia paused in stirring the
milk and stared at Kat. "I thought you didn’t use your
telepathy."
    Katarina seemed to find the
ends of her hair fascinating as she muttered, "I never gave it up
completely."
    "So what on earth was the
big deal about the vision or whatever you had this
morning?"
    Katarina waved a hand as if
dismissing the importance of her omission. "Contacting a person and
speaking with them telepathically requires much more interaction
than a simple little probe to see if a person’s telling the
truth."
    "Tell me about the vision."
Naia shook her head at Kat's logic. She added cocoa and sugar to
the milk heating on the stove and waited for Kat to
explain.
    Katarina leaned against the
counter and a little furrow formed between her brows as she spoke.
"I think it was a cross between a vision and a telepathic
connection. When you speak telepathically there’s no visual
stimulation unless it is a very deep connection, or you purposely
send a mental image. This morning I pictured a man. I think he's a
fellow telepath."
    "Really? How do you
know?"
    "When I was working last
night I think he was doing some sort of meditation
exercise."
    "It's the same man who got
through your blocks?" She stared at Kat, who nodded toward the pan.
Naia resumed stirring and adjusted the heat lower.
    "He wasn’t in my head per
se. It was more like we were on the same frequency and I couldn’t
tune him out."
    "So what was he
saying?"
    "I haven’t a clue. It
wasn’t English or any other language I