Feline Good

by Lana Kole

  Her heart stuttered, the instant pain flaring up, and the hole in her heart that Malak left when he died burning bright red like the end of a cigarette. Fuck, that hurt. But Maya just gritted her teeth, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected her. She knew the truth behind them, despite never hearing them aloud.

  “Oh, she doesn’t like that. Not at all,” Amir taunted her. Maya refused to meet his twisted gaze as he spoke. “Bet she also wouldn’t like what I’d left out about poor Malak. How he’d spent his last months drinking himself to sleep, wondering where he had gone wrong and failed her parents…”

  He continued on, the truth in his words slashing at her like knives. Pushing it away, shoving it from her mind, she blocked it out to the best of her ability. The familiarity of bottling up her emotions, locking them away to protect herself, dredged up memories better left forgotten. Even with cruelness etched into their features, even in sweet August’s, she knew it wasn’t really them. They weren’t themselves and wouldn’t be until she could get that damned amulet back. She could suffer through these fake ass doppelgangers until then—she had to.

  Although, as Asher opened his big mouth, she wondered if she might have to kill them first.

  “Perfect. I mean, what does she have left here anyway?” He stalked over, trailing a fingertip down the side of her face and over her lips, pulling her bottom lip away before releasing it with a soft pop. “This little bar? The one that’s gone to shit since Malak died?”

  Gritting her teeth, Maya ignored everything they said from that point forward. She crawled inside the little place in her head she used to visit often when Alex would get violent. Refusing to respond or give them the satisfaction of a reaction would only make them grow bored, or so she hoped. And then, they would take her to god knew where—to Sekhmet, she supposed, to do their bidding.

  Maya would find a way to get her hands on that amulet, and she would make Sekhmet pay for taking her fucking men away.

  Sekhmet woke with a start as she heard male voices… multiple ones. Jolting up into a seated position, she traced the room with her gaze, eyes locking on to four figures in the entertainment room through the open doorway.

  She recognized the tall, broad frame of Kyril, but the others were strangers. Quickly, she stood and conjured a long, golden evening gown, a bloodred sheath peeking out through swathes of glimmering gold.

  Running a finger along the golden curlicues of her accessory, she mused that the amulet must have known what she wanted all along, conjuring the Keepers out of her own subconscious desire. However, it was disappointment that welled in her just then, not excitement at the promise of ruling the world anew. She knew somehow that the three men waiting for her in the other room were the Keepers. Else Kyril would not appear so relaxed with them. He would always protect her, if not because of the love between them, then strictly because he knew she could end him if she so chose.

  Sekhmet did not foresee that though. Her heart stuttered every time she gazed at him.

  Lovesick fool.

  She agreed with her harsh inner self, but alas, there was little to be done about it now. It was far too late to turn back. And to be honest, she did not want to.

  Sekhmet remained barefoot, the dress the perfect length for her to glide around in. Even as a goddess, she cared not for the toe pinching, evil contraptions that humans had invented. It was for this reason she kept silent as she padded across the marble floor to the group gathered in the entertainment room.

  They all turned to her, and Sekhmet discovered that not only four males waited for her, but also a tiny female.

  “You brought the Guardian?” she questioned.

  Kyril turned to her and grabbed her hand, tapping the amulet she wore around her neck with fingers that had worked sin into her flesh countless times before. “Their arrival woke me. Did you call for them in your sleep?” His expression turned hopeful, and an urge to please him ran through Sekhmet.

  Yes. She, the goddess known for slaughtering those who refused to pay their respects. She could have laughed at the prospect of wanting to please a man, but nonetheless, the urge pressed on her. So, she adopted a personality that had served her well before. Sekhmet was a goddess, and it was about time she started acting like one again. She had become far too comfortable as a lover. It seemed this plan would be moving forward, after all, and she tilted her chin up at Kyril.

  “It appears so.” A secret happiness coursed through her when she saw his excitement. As she studied the trio and their little Guardian, she noticed the fiery heat of fury burning in the blonde’s eyes. It brought a smile to Sekhmet’s lips, and she glanced down to where they held her, one with an arm around her waist and one with a tight grip on her wrist.

  “Who is whom?” She arched a brow in expectation.

  The one with blue eyes answered her from where he stood behind the woman. “I’m Asher, Keeper of the Future.”

  With a tight grip on his Guardian’s wrist, the next one claimed himself to be the Keeper of the Present. The one holding her to his side was the Keeper of the Past.

  A long, manicured finger rose, pointing to the last. “You are the one I will be requiring services from. Don’t stray too far.” She laughed at the irony, dreaming of ways and places she could travel, once she got herself out of this pocket of time.

  “This evening we will go back in time. But first, I want to enjoy my temporary retirement just a little longer.” She pulled Kyril closer, claiming her stake on him in the same way the three Keepers were doing with their woman. Not that she was of much use, but with they way they clung to her, Sekhmet feared they might riot if she killed her now.

  “You’re Maya, correct?”

  When the woman gave a curt nod, Sekhmet grinned. “Yes. The first female Guardian. I must say you did a terrible job of guarding them. Way to give us gals a bad name, hmm?” Pausing for a moment, she chuckled as an idea came to her. “However, I do have one job you should do quite well.”

  Sekhmet didn’t even give her a chance to respond when she snapped her fingers. The blonde woman disappeared and reappeared a split second later behind the bar against the far wall. Her cry of frustration was just the beginning to what Sekhmet hoped would be a very entertaining evening.

  The Keepers glared at the spot she had stood, before narrowing their eyes in Sekhmet’s direction. Bringing both hands up, she pushed them toward the floor in a calm down motion. “Now, now, don’t pout. She’s just right over there, and that is where she will remain the whole night. There’s no rush on this plan.”

  No, Sekhmet decided she would enjoy this last night with no responsibilities.

  Fury was a thick, potent sludge inside her body. It filled her up until she saw red. Her men had not once come over to her since they had sat at a giant marble table with Sekhmet and that burly bastard she used as a guard, lover, fuck boy—whatever.

  They shot casual glances her way, the dark, intent look in their eyes sending shivers up her spine, but not in a good way. Not in the way that she knew meant they would cherish and worship her. Instead, the lust in their eyes promised something darker, hungrier. Something primal and vicious and dangerous. Something that began with pain and ended in screams.

  The man named Kyril eclipsed their stares, and Maya glared as he approached the bar. Bastard.

  She hadn’t had time to get her hands around Sekhmet’s throat and steal the amulet. That bitch had somehow corralled her behind this bar, some invisible, magic barrier keeping her back here.

  Planting her palms on the bar top, facing the big asshole approaching, she strangely found herself more confident, more comfortable behind the tall surface. Maya was raised in the bar, lived above the bar, worked the bar almost her whole life. She guessed it was luck that she would fight for her men behind one. As soon as she figured out how.

  Kyril ordered a drink, and she complied with quick efficiency, gritting her teeth the whole time. She may have been a bartender, but she was no one’s servant
, so when she slammed his glass on the counter and pushed it forward with the tip of her finger, it was with a fierce scowl that she did so.

  “Your drink, sir,” she growled, pouring all her venom and bitterness into the word.

  In response, he offered her a tight smile before grabbing his drink, leaving something in its place as he did so.

  Maya blinked, her mind refusing to comprehend the item lying in front of her. Jerking her gaze to his, she studied his face. The emotions in his eyes were all she needed to see—bitterness, hatred, and sorrow. It broke her heart a little bit to see such sadness in the eyes of someone who was so clearly a warrior.

  “I think the Goddess requires another drink, yes?”

  Maya searched his gaze for any hint of a trick, and continued to stare as she filled a pint glass from the tap. Maya nodded to him as she reached across the bar and carefully took the amulet into her palm. The stone, bare of its usual golden curlicues, glimmered in the low light.

  Her stare finally broke, trailed across the room to Sekhmet and the pendant hanging from her neck. A fake.

  It was then she remembered that when the guys had mentioned being called here—they had said he. Not she.

  Jerking her eyes back to Kyril, she saw the determination reflected his gaze and studied him intently. Sekhmet hadn’t even summoned them here.

  He didn’t back down as she clenched her fingers around the jewel. The stone was hard, cold, and unyielding, until she gripped it with all her might. The slightest give cracked before the stone crumbled in her palm. The sight reminded her of soap curls crunching, how it turned to a dusty powder in her hand. Cupping the powder in her palm, she tilted her hand over the fresh beer and poured the crystal in Sekhmet’s drink.

  Maya remembered exactly what this would do to Sekhmet, so once she stirred the powder until it dissolved, she passed the beer to Kyril happily. With a brief nod of his head, he wrapped his hands around the glass and left the bar.

  Shock still pulsed through her veins, and hope flared bright like the sun as he crossed the room and handed Sekhmet the drink. A sweet smile curled her lips, filled with enough love to make Maya’s heart stutter.

  Sekhmet’s own lover betrayed her in that instant.

  Maya stared, looking for any sign of weakness as she drank the beer. It wasn’t her body language she first noticed that changed though. It was when Asher slightly turned his head in her direction, winking before he schooled his features. Hope bloomed in Maya, realizing that when she crushed the stone, it broke any hold that affected them. Her heart soared, but she kept the grin off her face.

  In that moment, Maya decided payback was a bitch. And so was she.

  An hour passed, then two, and Maya’s anxiety grew higher and higher as Sekhmet became more intoxicated and flirtier with her men. She considered the fact that Kyril had played her, giving her a false hope only to watch her be crushed in the end.

  When Sekhmet gripped Amir’s arm, she was two seconds from leaping across the bar and fighting the bitch, goddess or no goddess, barrier or no barrier, when Sekhmet staggered.

  Hope bloomed anew as, from across the room, Maya watched her hands grip the top of a marble table before she sank hard into a chair.

  “Something’s… not right.” Manicured fingers massaged her temple as her breaths became erratic. A glow emanated from Sekhmet’s body, gradually growing brighter. A tortured moan escaped from her lips as she leaned forward, her head against the table.

  Then suddenly, like a light bulb bursting, the glow faded from sight, and Sekhmet sagged against the table.

  Everyone in the room froze, and Maya crept out from behind the bar. Long moments passed as Sekhmet’s breath eased.

  Fine, Maya will admit it. When Sekhmet suddenly jerked up, Maya jumped, the movement so unexpected it startled her.

  Wrath of the goddess and all that.

  Though Maya knew the goddess was no more.

  “What. Did. You. Do?” she screeched, the sound shrill, her tone fiery.

  Maya just smirked, her question proof enough.

  “Made sure you can’t ever fuck up the timeline, or anyone else’s destiny. You’re mortal now.”

  Sekhmet stood suddenly, a loud, frustrated cry bursting from her lips. “You bitch!”

  And then she charged, ripping the bottom of her dress away for freer movement.

  Maya immediately sank into a defensive stance, her hands raised in fists, one foot tucked back for support.

  But it did little good, because instead of facing her head on, Sekhmet went low and tackled Maya to the ground. Her breath exploded out of her in a rush as her back met the hard marble beneath her. Sekhmet reared back a fist and before Maya could bring up an arm to block, a fist met the side of her face and Maya grunted as her head jerked to the right. Hands wrapped around Maya’s neck, Sekhmet’s stupidly sharp nails digging in and cutting deep. Struggling, Maya bent her left leg outside of Sekhmet’s and used that leverage to roll them over, putting Maya on top. She returned the favor and gave Sekhmet a hit of her own, hopefully giving the goddess a black eye. Ex goddess. She smirked at the thought, a flicker of light in the darkness she’d been wallowing in since August had first looked at her so wrong.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amir stop August and Asher from rushing forward.

  “No, our girl’s got this.” His low, deep voice spoke the words with such confidence, and his belief in her kindled the fire of determination that blazed within.

  Sekhmet’s cry of fierce outrage was nothing compared to the emotions brewing under the surface in Maya. After all the broken bones and ugly words spewed like spittle, tearing her down day after day, Maya had come out on top. A successful, strong as fuck woman, when she could have easily lain down and let her life end with a sad excuse for true love. Such bullshit. Now that Maya knew what it was like to connect with another person in a way that went soul deep, she refused to let go. Her newfound vigor for life and love, for her men, fueled her.

  Damn right, I’m their girl.

  And not even a damned goddess was going to take her men from her. Especially not to alter some ancient past and fuck over everything she knew. With a new determination, Maya tried to capture Sekhmet’s flailing fists in her hands, planning to pin them over her head to get control of her. Instead, by opening herself up when she reached for Sekhmet’s left hand, Maya’s breath got knocked from her lungs when Sekhmet somehow got her foot between them and kicked her off. Maya grunted with the pain of the impact on her stomach, but caught herself on hands and knees, skidding across the marble floor.

  Jerking her head up, she kept Sekhmet in her line of sight, slowly standing and balancing herself in an offensive position.

  Maya knew that with her training she could easily take down the goddess, despite Sekhmet seeming to hold her own so far. From her amateur stance and perfect manicure, she probably didn’t know how to fight without her powers to back her up. Maya didn’t want to kill her, but she knew that she needed to at least subdue her in order for them to escape. Sekhmet was a mortal now, and it wouldn’t be too hard to bring her down. That in itself would be a challenge, though, because sometimes pulling your punches required more control, which meant Maya needed to get her emotions under wraps.

  “You made me mortal!” Sekhmet glared from across the small space they’d made their battlefield.

  “Nice of you to notice,” she drawled sarcastically. Way to rein in that emotion, Maya.

  Sekhmet seemed to take a deep breath as well. “I just wanted to right what was done to me.”

  We are in serious danger of monologuing here, Maya thought with a grimace. But… she was curious to understand the goddess’ way of thinking. How had they come to this?

  Was it really just a few days ago that Maya was moaning and groaning over a boring night in the bar?

  “What was done to you?” Maya turned her gaze to her guys in disbelief, sarcasm heavy in her voice as she spoke to Sekhmet. “Didn’t you… oh, I don’t know,
murder hundreds of people for disrespecting you?”

  “It was Ra’s idea! If he hadn’t asked me to, I would never have done it, but instead of taking responsibility for his own words, he left me here.” She paused and threw her hands up in exasperation. “Here, alone, to learn my lesson.” Now, it was Sekhmet who scoffed. “Well, I’ve learned all right.”

  Her eyes flitted to Kyril, her features softening for a split second before she masked her expression. “Learned that if you want something done right, you have to make it happen for yourself. And I. Want. My. Fucking. Happily. Ever. After.”

  With her final words, she charged, but Maya almost felt sorry for her. Kyril had already betrayed her. The happily ever after she sought didn’t exist. When she came within range, Maya waited until she was right in her reach, then stretched forward and cupped the back of her neck, using her own momentum to side step and push her in the same direction she’d been traveling.

  “Does your happily ever after have to include going back in time and fucking up the world as we know it?”

  Sekhmet seemed to hesitate for the smallest second as she spun to face Maya with a huff.

  “To be honest, I’m perfectly fine with finding my own damned island and disappearing for another few thousand years. Things didn’t turn out that way.”

  Maya would have questioned why, but Sekhmet rushed forward again, and Maya almost rolled her eyes. She had to give the goddess props, though, she was persistent.

  Sekhmet surprised her with an immediate attack, and Maya reacted out of instinct. When she was within the perfect range, Maya stepped, pivoted, and kicked, at the last second, pulling her hit so she impacted with the ball of her foot instead of her heel. Still, the attack had the desired effect… until suddenly it didn’t. Sekhmet gasped as the breath was forced from her lungs, and she stumbled back. When Maya blinked, she almost couldn’t comprehend the sight. A blade protruded from Sekhmet’s stomach where she had fallen against Kyril.