by Aimee Carter
“To make sure you have the chance I didn’t,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Even if something does happen to Kate, she’s a great kid. And you’re an idiot if you waste any more time avoiding her.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How dare you speak to me that way—”
“How dare you give up on Kate before she even has the chance to try.” James drew himself up to his full height. “She’s stronger than you know, and if she beats this, how do you think she’s going to feel, knowing you spent the first part of her life so sure she’d die that you couldn’t even bother to meet her?”
“I doubt she will care,” said Henry icily. “Considering Diana is raising her as a mortal.”
“She’ll find out who she is one day. We’re all busting our asses to protect her, making sure she’s never without one of us—even Ares is stepping up. But you can’t bother because you’re too much of a coward.”
“I am not a coward.” Henry stood, digging his fingertips into the hard wood of his desk. “I have watched eleven other girls perish because of me, and each one of them hurt as much as the one before. I do not enjoy the thought of Diana’s daughter falling victim to the same fate because of me.”
“Then do something about it. Guide her. Protect her. Help her. Don’t hide down here acting like she doesn’t exist,” said James, and for a moment, his voice hitched. They weren’t only talking about Kate anymore, but any remorse Henry felt for keeping him from his friend all those years ago had long since evaporated. “Even if something does happen to her, appreciate the time you have with her. Don’t ignore her in hopes that’ll make it hurt less. We both know it won’t.”
Henry clenched his jaw. “You have no right to tell me what to do.”
“And you have no right to act like she’s dead already.”
They glared at each other for the better part of a minute, neither willing to budge. A knot of frustration formed in Henry’s throat, rendering him silent regardless, and at last James sighed.
“It’s her seventh birthday today,” he said. “I’m not saying you should stay with her like you stayed with Ingrid, but I am saying it wouldn’t hurt if you went to see her. Diana would appreciate it. After all she’s doing for you—”
“Don’t,” said Henry, forcing the word out through his tight throat. “She is doing this for Kate, not for me. Kate will have a choice.”
“Then go give her that choice,” said James, and he inclined his head. “Central Park. Sheep Meadow. They’ll be there until sunset. Cerberus might appreciate running around and stretching his legs. Can’t imagine he gets much of a chance down here.”
With that, he turned on his heel and marched out of Henry’s office, leaving him in a cloud of self-hatred and uncertainty. What would it hurt, really, to see her? She was a child, yes, but he had no feelings for her other than the unyielding desire to protect her from harm. How could he do that when he didn’t even know what she looked like? And if James was right, if she did question his belief in her when she was old enough to know who she really was…
But what if she too died? The odds were against her. Any connection they formed would put her in certain mortal peril. How could he do that to her, knowing her chances of survival were so slim?
Then again, what better way to protect her than to be with her always?
He was halfway to the surface before he’d made a conscious decision. The warm sunshine hit his face as he appeared in Sheep Meadow, and at his feet, Cerberus shook off the Underworld gloom.
“What do you think?” said Henry, reaching down and giving his dog a pat. “Up for finding Diana and—”
Cerberus let out a loud woof, and before Henry could create a leash, he took off. Swearing, Henry followed, darting between small clusters of people enjoying the late-summer sunshine. No one seemed too bothered by the sight of a huge dog dashing through the crowd, followed by a man dressed in all black. Then again, it was New York.
Another bark, and Cerberus skidded onto a blanket, diving headfirst into a carefully laid-out picnic. Henry swore and hurried over, careful to appear as if he were breathing heavily.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “My dog, he slipped his leash and—”
He stopped cold. Sitting on the blanket among the ruins of what had once been a small feast was Diana. And beside her, giggling as Cerberus snuffled into her hair, was a little girl.
Kate.
Her brown hair hung in a loose braid down her back, and her blue eyes and the smattering of freckles across her nose reminded him so much of Persephone that for a moment, he really was breathless. Whether Diana had done it on purpose or not, she had all but re-created the daughter she’d lost. But there was something about her, something he couldn’t describe—something so fundamentally different from her sister that in the space of a single heartbeat, Persephone faded from his mind completely.
Kate didn’t seem to be at all bothered by the fact that her birthday picnic had been destroyed by a dog three times her size. She gave Cerberus a kiss on the nose and turned to look at Henry, her eyes meeting his. He froze.
She may have been seven, but there was something eternal about her gaze. As if she could see all his thoughts, his hopes, his fears, his pain in one look. As if she understood every moment he’d existed. She may have been mortal, but she was without a doubt the daughter of gods.
“It’s all right,” said Diana, her voice warmer and fuller than he’d heard it in eons. “It looks like he managed to miss the cupcakes.”
“Cerberus, come,” said Henry, and he trotted obediently to his side. Henry ducked his head as he hooked a leash up to his dog’s collar, trying to hide his shock. “Again, my apologies. If there’s anything I could do to make it up to you…”
“Really, it’s no trouble,” said Diana, and she wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Just an excuse to gorge ourselves on cupcakes, really. We’ll get hot dogs on our way out of the park.”
“At least let me pay for those,” he said, because any mortal would insist on the same, but Diana shook her head.
“If you want to help, you could take a few pictures for us,” she said, offering him a camera. “They never turn out quite right when I take them.”
Henry took the camera, a modern kind that felt lighter in his hands than he expected. “Of course,” he said, and he peered through the lens. Even now, Kate stood out like a beacon to him, as if she were the only flame in a world of dark.
He would protect her. He would kill for her. He would fade for her, if that’s what it took to make sure she had the life she deserved. And even if he never loved her the way Diana wanted him to, he would still show her the affection and respect she deserved.
“There,” he said roughly once he’d taken an entire roll of film. “You both look stunning.”
Kate grinned and tried to lick off the purple frosting that had somehow wound up on her nose. “You’re funny,” she said, fixing that infinite stare on him. “Mommy, can he get hot dogs with us?”
Diana looked at him, and he hesitated. He wanted nothing more than to spend more time with them, but to what end? She was a little girl. It wouldn’t do either of them any good for him to befriend her now, as an adult. And he would serve her better by protecting her from afar.
“Thank you,” he said, and he handed the camera back to Diana. “But I’m afraid I have to be somewhere. It was a pleasure meeting you. And happy birthday, Kate. I wish you an infinite number more.”
Kate giggl
ed again and blew him a kiss. As Diana laughed and gathered her up in another embrace, Henry walked away. He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected leaving her to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But if he had his way, he would make absolutely certain that he would never have to do so again.
When he returned to the Underworld, a parcel awaited him on his desk. Curious, he unwrapped the shimmering purple paper, wrinkling his nose with distaste. Who would possibly send something like this to him?
The moment he set eyes on what lay beneath, however, all question of the sender flew out of his head. Nestled in lavender tissue paper was a black-and-white picture of Diana and Kate, both holding cupcakes as they laughed together in Central Park. Diana must have been the one to frame the image, and it shimmered in the candlelight, a reflection in the making. All it needed was him.
It’d been a long time since he’d made a reflection—an image that was more a wish than reality. But to him, this was both. In it, he saw his future; a life he might one day have, if he fought hard enough for it. If he protected Kate. If, when the time came, he gave her a reason to choose him.
He tucked the reflection into his pocket and took a breath. Until then, there was something he had to do.
* * *
“Where are we going?” said James warily as Henry led him down the aisle of the throne room. They entered the antechamber together, and though Henry had spent much of the past thousand years avoiding him at all costs, he offered James his hand.
“Trust me.”
James eyed him, and while Henry couldn’t blame him for his uncertainty, he was rapidly growing impatient.
“If I was going to do something terrible to you, I would have done it centuries ago,” said Henry. “Now come on. We don’t have all day.”
At last James took his hand, and the moment he did so, Henry pushed them both through the quicksand space between the antechamber and where he wanted to be. It was never a pleasant journey when he was dragging someone with him across such a large distance, but at least James knew better than to fight it.
When Henry opened his eyes, they stood in the middle of an eleventh-century castle. Henry wouldn’t have known it from any other, but the moment they landed, James’s mouth dropped open.
“Is this…?” he said, and Henry hesitated.
“I realize we have not been as close as we once were, and I fear there is simply far too much history between us to ever allow things to be easy once more. But we are still family, and…” He paused. “It was cruel of me to keep this from you, no matter the past. Everyone deserves happiness, even if it can only be found among the dead. While I cannot promise you I will always be on stable ground, I will take steps to ensure you can visit whenever you wish.”
James gaped at him, speechless, and Henry grimaced. He hated that look. As if it were so shocking that he would ever do something kind.
“Go,” he said. “I will be here when you are finished.”
“I can’t—” James hesitated, and without warning, he lunged forward to capture Henry in a hug. “Thank you.”
It had been a very long time since any member of his family had dared touch him in such a way, and Henry awkwardly gave him a pat on the back. “You are welcome. Now go, before I change my mind.”
Releasing him, James gave him a boyish grin and took off down the corridor, guided by whatever power he had to know exactly where his destination happened to be. Out of curiosity—or perhaps the desire to prove to himself that happiness in the Underworld was possible after all—Henry trailed after him.
James turned into a room filled with sunshine, and though it couldn’t have been natural, a tree grew in the middle of the stone floor. Henry stood in the doorway as James approached a dark-haired girl who sat underneath the low-hanging branches. She munched on an apple and spoke in low tones with a woman who resembled her far too closely to be anyone but her mother, though the instant she noticed James, she lit up.
“James?” said the girl, her bright eyes widening. She flung her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the mouth, not the least bit bashful. “It’s about damn time. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to come get us?”
“Tuck,” he breathed, staring at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. There was something sad about the way he murmured her name, something that reminded Henry far too much of himself. Sometimes it was hard to remember he wasn’t the only one in pain.
James gathered her up, wrapping his arms so completely around her that she couldn’t have escaped if she tried. They remained intertwined for a long moment, murmuring things Henry couldn’t hear, and he averted his gaze. He would have given anything to have that. Anything.
At last they broke apart, and Tuck looked at him with shining eyes. She clearly adored him. “This is my mother,” she said. “Mother, this is James, the boy I was telling you about.”
James greeted the woman as if they were old friends, pulling her into a hug, as well. “You have a brilliant daughter. Tuck’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.”
“Of course she is,” said the woman, laughing. “And from what she’s told me, you’re not too bad yourself.”
The three of them talked for a few moments longer, and at last James pulled something out of his pocket. “I’ve been holding on to this for you,” he said, and he offered a small pendant to Tuck. “Thought you might like to have it.”
She took the necklace with shaking hands. “You held on to it all this time?”
“Of course,” he said, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Anything for you. I’m yours and you know it.”
As she kissed him again, Henry took his leave, stepping back out into the dim corridor. As much as he despised James, to see him find happiness despite his tragedy gave Henry something he hadn’t had since Ingrid. It gave him hope.
Pulling the reflection out of his pocket, he gazed down at Kate’s face, memorizing every feature. He would be hers as well, and despite whatever trickery the council had planned, he’d be there to watch over her. No matter her fate, she would have a fair shot at the life she wanted, even if that life didn’t include him. He would make sure of it.
He’d lost everything that had ever mattered to him, but as he listened to the sounds of James and Tuck’s laughter, an odd certainty settled over him. If Kate somehow succeeded where the others had failed—if she chose to give him a second chance—then this was only the beginning. His existence felt like an eternity, and in many ways it had been. But perhaps she would finally allow him to close the book on the worst chapter of his life. And perhaps she would be the start of the best.
Tracing her features, at once so like Persephone’s and yet so very different, he allowed himself a smile. In her, he saw possibility. In her, he saw his future.
And when she was ready for it, he would be, too.
* * * * *
Immortality or love. You can’t have both.
If you loved Goddess Interrupted, don’t miss the rest of the Goddess Test series. Available now!
The Goddess Test
The Goddess Hunt (novella)
Goddess Interrupted
The Goddess Legacy
The Goddess Inheritance
“A fresh take on the Greek myths adds sparkle to this romantic fable.”—Cassandra Clare
on The Goddess Test
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THE GODDESS TEST BOXED SET
ISBN: 978-1-4603-2242
Copyright © 2013 Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
THE GODDESS TEST
Copyright © 2011 by Aimée Carter
GODDESS INTERRUPTED
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
THE GODDESS INHERITANCE
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
THE GODDESS LEGACY
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
THE GODDESS QUEEN
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
THE LOVESTRUCK GODDESS
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
GODDESS OF THE UNDERWORLD
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
GOD OF THIEVES
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
GOD OF DARKNESS
Copyright © 2012 by Aimée Carter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.