Kat stepped next to Ariadne’s left and slid her cold hand into Ariadne’s. Kat looked at her and smiled as she dug her nails painfully into her skin. Looking the woman in the eye, Ariadne smiled though the pain shot through her.
“I assume you will be following directions tonight.” Kat glared at her. “I hope I don’t need to reinforce to you the importance of this ceremony. I’ve heard about how close you have become with that Dr. Morris. Don’t you dare, for a second, assume that I’m not aware of how you’re behaving. You need to end the relationship now. I won’t allow it.”
Kat’s power trip was getting on her nerves. When would it end? When would Kat treat her with respect?
There would be no going back to being a meek little lamb. She needed to live her life and she couldn’t do that if she continued to be pushed down by Kat. However tonight was not the time to let hatred take center stage. Every woman of the circle was a sister, even Kat, and they had come together to honor their goddess.
Instead of answering, she simply turned her back on the woman and walked to the far side of the circle and took the hands of her other sisters.
Kat walked next to Tammy and pulled a snake out of the bag that sat at Tammy’s feet. The snake wrapped its thick, brown body around her naked thigh and Kat began to sing a hymn to Epione. The drums beat strong and with each thunderous quake the snake slithered farther up the woman, winding over her arms and then up around her neck. The woman didn’t flinch; instead, her red lips pulled into a crazed smile while her eyes reflected the lingering flames of the ebbing fire.
The crowd around Tammy filled the circle with a garble of prayers. Ariadne’s heart mimicked the beat of their wavering tones and her stomach clenched with the tension that grew with each thunderous beat of the drum.
Ariadne had been a part of the ceremony every year for almost three thousand years, but it still felt as sacred and monumental as the first time she had celebrated the human death of her goddess, the day Zeus chose to encase their island in the molten rock of Thera. He had killed thousands of Minoans, and ended an egalitarian society that would never again find a foothold in human culture.
Zeus had always hated the fact that women had been the central focus of the culture. Women lawmakers, business owners, and empresses — and the dismissal of his sexual advance toward Epione had only been a reason for him to eradicate the peaceful society.
Ariadne would never forget the day the ash had rained down from the sky. The ground had rumbled beneath her feet and day turned into night. She and her sisters had run to take shelter, but many were buried by the falling ash, only to be found days or weeks later.
Epione had fallen to Zeus, but not before she had entrusted the care of her staff to Kat, who had followed her wishes and brought the twisted crystal staff to the Labyrinth — where it had stayed. And where it needed to remain, protected.
The wind blew, billowing the thin fabric of her skirt and teasing the flames.
She closed her eyes and exhaled a calming breath. Now was the time. “Goddess, be with me.”
She stepped out from her place in the circle and walked to the altar. Reverently, she picked up the ceramic statue of Epione, their goddess, their mother, and the first of their kind. Her powers had been magnificent, the ability to heal, perform magic, sing and dance. Unfortunately, as she bore more nymphs, her powers were passed on, but lessened with each successive generation. Now most nymphs had one special power and one shift, and typically that was all. Epione was an amazing goddess. More than a goddess — she was everything — an amazing woman, friend, and mother.
With a bow, she lifted the idol and placed it lovingly in her arms. She needed to concentrate on the task at hand and serve her goddess well.
The chant continued, but she found silence in her soul as she prepared for what she must do. Turning, she walked to the edge of the wide fire pit. Her foot struck the hot coals, but there was no pain. The warmth of the ground was like the touch of a mother’s warm hands on her sensitive feet.
Taking a step, she looked down at the ancient sculpture of the wide-armed goddess perched inside the security of her arms. The snakes wrapped around the goddess’ arms and wound in a sacral knot between her bare breasts. The sculpture grew hotter in her arm as it absorbed the heat from the flames.
“You are safe, my mother,” she prayed. “The flames shall not touch my mother, my goddess. May they only warm the hearts of those who remember your sacrifice. May they honor your memory, and move past the transgression inflicted upon us. I vow to protect you, our way of life, and all that we hold sacred.” She closed her eyes and a sense of peace passed over her.
Her feet struck the cool grass as she left the heat of the flames. She walked to the half-log altar that was covered in the fruits, grapes, oils, and honeys that she and her sisters had brought in tribute to their goddess. With a bow, she gently placed the sculpture at the center of the altar. “Please help me to move forward with my life and escape the ghosts of my past.” She dropped her head in a low bow. “Blessed be, my mother.”
She kissed the smooth edge of Epione’s ceramic skirt. A tear slid down her cheek as she remembered her mother. It would have been so different if Zeus had only chosen another, more willing woman.
Her hands shook as she lifted her lips from the hem of her goddess’ skirt. Epione had sacrificed for what she knew was right. She had given her life to not be violated by a man — no, a God. Now it was time for her and her sisters to honor her sacrifice with a sacrifice of their own.
The white yearling goat stood picketed at the far end of the circle. It called out into the night, as if the beast knew what was to come.
Stepping back, Ariadne picked up her long hair and flipped it under her shirt. Peeling the edges of the cotton from her stomach, she pulled the shirt off and dropped it to the ground. Her sisters followed her lead and each began shedding the skin of their society. Her white skirt fell to the green grass and she stepped her blackened, ash-covered feet from the circle the fabric formed.
Everyone went silent as they stripped from their clothes. Trina, the youngest sister, stepped to the stake and took the goat’s leash. The goat bleated, as she led the untouched beast to Kat.
Kat lifted the head of the snake from her wrist. Pinching its diamond-shaped head, she pressed it to the neck of the goat. Again and again she pressed the snake’s fangs into the flesh of the sacrifice. The goat began to shift and lean. Kat laughed as she pressed the fangs of the snake into the goat again.
The goat bleated and fell to the ground. Its side rose with shallow breaths. Kat pulled the snake from her body and kissed the head of the snake. With quiet veneration, she bent down and rested the serpent on the body of the goat.
Tears welled in Ariadne’s eyes, this was a part of the sacrifice, but it always made her sad to watch an innocent animal give its life. She blinked back her tears. She had a low enough rank without having her sisters assume that the modern world had weakened her devotion to their goddess.
“My sisters,” Kat exclaimed, extending her arms into the sky, in the stance of the snake goddess figurine. “We dance!”
The naked women pulled together into a circle around the flickering ashes. Each woman took the next hand. Ariadne took Trina’s hand and smiled. The young nymph had only experienced this ceremony for a few hundred years, and her excitement was still fresh on her face. Kat pushed her way between them, and grabbed Ariadne’s hand. Ariadne ignored the way Kat’s fingernails scraped her skin.
Kat led them into the Greek song. “Epione, my humble goddess. Ever present to bring health to the sick. Epione, battle-maiden of death, we salute you. Bring us this day a new year filled with life. May the curse of Zeus be lifted and your bravery be commended.”
Letting go of Kat’s hand, their song ceased and she spun out into the night. She rubbed the blood back into her fingertips as she wove
her naked body in a wide arc around the other women. Kat looked over her bare shoulder and back toward her. Catching her eye, Kat sneered and turned back toward the flames, her bubble-shaped behind looked even larger in the poor light.
Ariadne smiled as she let the darkness take her naked form.
The women began to move slowly in a rhythmic dance around the flames. They hummed an ancient song. While she watched, she moved back into the row of heavily scented olive trees. She needed a moment away from the prying eyes of her sisters to rest.
A warm hand grasped her wrist and she tried to scream, but another clapped over her mouth. She tried to pull away from the hands, but as she struggled, the man’s hands only grew stronger. He pulled her toward him. She could feel the heat of his body against her naked back and his breath tickled the nape of her neck.
“Don’t speak,” a man whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her teeth grazed his flesh as she tried to bite the inside of his hand.
“Hey, no,” he warned.
She wanted to shift, but to do so was dangerous. The man smelled of human.
“Let go,” she said, her words garbled by the sweat of his palm.
“If I let you go, you must promise not to alert your friends.”
If she agreed, there was no guarantee that the stranger wouldn’t try to kill her, not that he could. His hands were full now, but if he let go, he would be free to do as he pleased. She was naked and weaponless — expect for her serpent form. If she shifted, she would have to strike, and with her strike came death.
Should she kill him?
“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded through his slightly opened fingers.
“I am … ” he hesitated, “not the one standing here naked.”
The pressure of the man’s hands lightened and she spun around in his encircling arms. Beau stood looking at her with a look of shock upon his face.
She looked down at her brown erect nipples.
Damn it.
She shoved her arms over her breasts. He wouldn’t get any more free shows.
“Do you make a habit of being a voyeur?”
He smiled, his dark eyes picked up the orange of the lingering flames behind her. His eyes were the color of the ocean at night, deep, clear, mysterious and alluring. He blinked and she could see the reflection of Kat in his eyes.
“So you do like watching naked women?” She pressed her hands against his chest. The muscles under her fingers tensed and quivered with her touch. She thought back to the way his hands had felt the night before.
He looked past her at the group of woman around the fire. “What the hell?” he muttered as he squinted in the direction of the fallen animal. “Is that a goat?”
She was still angry with his accusations, but seeing him here made her forget for a moment the hurt feelings. “What are you doing here, Beau?”
“What the hell are you involved in?” Beau’s gaze bore into her.
“You shouldn’t be here.” She took his hand and, looking back over her shoulder to make sure no one had seen her go, pulled him away from the ceremony and down the hill.
The hillside was steep and rocks tumbled and fell to the beach below. The rocks tore at her feet; she should’ve gone back and gotten some clothing and shoes, but she couldn’t risk Beau being seen. He was in enough danger just seeing what he had, without being noticed by a group of women who wholeheartedly believed him to be their enemy.
She should’ve never shown him the bay. Once again, he had amplified the danger for her kind. If he told anyone about what he had seen … Some people would think she and her sisters were crazy, but undoubtedly there would be a few that would connect the dots — then their real enemies would descend upon them.
The snake goddess sisterhood was a powerful group. For witches and sorcerers, just a handful of skins would be priceless and, if destroyed, prove deadly to the nymph to which they belonged. And if anyone found their way to the Labyrinth, what would happen to Epione and the staff — only the goddess knew — but the sisterhood couldn’t afford another battle.
She should’ve never let him be anything besides an enemy. At least he would be leaving Crete soon, and with him the danger he created for the nymphs.
Beau fumbled down the hillside behind her, cussing and sliding as the crumbling rocks gave way beneath his feet. It was doubtful with all the commotion that the nymphs would hear the stones falling over their rhythm chants and the pounding drums.
Picking her way through the rocks, she made her way to the water’s edge, Beau at her side. The waves poured over her feet washing away the droplets of blood left by the sharp edges of the stones. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, letting the salty brine sting her open wounds.
“Are you okay?” Beau pointed at her feet.
“I’m fine,” she huffed, as she tried to think of a way to lie to cover the ceremony he had just witnessed.
“Here.” He pulled his fleece jacket from his arms and draped it over her. “You look cold.”
“Thanks.” She pulled the jacket tight over her body, covering her exposed flesh all the way to her knees. “Beau, what were you doing up there?”
“Beau? Hey, Beau?” Kaden’s voice sounded from farther down the beach.
Beau grabbed her hand and squeezed, as if telling her to remain quiet. “We’re right here.”
She should’ve pulled her hand from his, but she felt no urge. Instead, she let his warmth seep through her, just as she had before. It felt good to be touched by him, even if it was only for a moment, even if it was something that could never last.
For a moment, she imagined what it would be like to be married to a man like Beau, traveling the world with his son, investigating the mysteries of the forgotten past. If he knew about her, they could work together. She could teach him about the secrets that humanity had forgotten.
The future she envisioned could never be. Humans would never accept that there were beings different from themselves — especially not nymphs — shape-shifting seductresses. Instead, they would be used as another reason for humans to judge, hate, and ostracize. The potential of humans knowing that magic was real, that there were immortals, and the potential to live forever, would only mean ideological wars.
“Who’s we?” Kaden yelled, pulling her from her confusion.
“Ariadne was the partier.” Beau forced a laugh, but even in the thin moonlight, she could see that his eyes were filled with unanswered questions.
“Did Kaden see, too?” Ariadne whispered harshly, looking away from his probing gaze.
“No, he was swimming. He hasn’t been feeling well, so I left him down here. But you are going to need to answer for what was going on up there.”
She looked down at the coat, luckily it was long enough to cover everything that needed to be covered. The sounds of the drums echoed down into the bay, where only a few nights before they had been making love. His hand loosened around hers and his thumb rubbed against her skin, just as it had done so when she had been well-plied with ouzo. She looked down at his hand as it pressed against hers. Her pale hand looked out of place in his rough, tanned hand.
At least she wouldn’t have to worry about lying to the boy — only his father.
“When we’re alone … ,” she mumbled.
“Fine, but I hope you’ll be naked again.” He flashed a dangerous smile. “I can only hold back so much, and watching you dance around naked was almost more than I could handle.”
He pulled her hand to him and his lips pressed against her skin. She could feel the desire that pulsed within him, just as she had in the surf. She felt a tingle between her thighs. It would feel so good to have him again.
Kaden splashed toward her, huffing as if he had walked a mile instead of the few hundred yards
it had been. “Why didn’t you invite us to the party?” Kaden asked, with a winded laugh.
She smiled. “Sorry, Kae … I promise it wouldn’t have been your thing.”
Kaden coughed. “Sorry, I’m not — ” His cough cut off his words. He tried to suck in a breath, but she watched him struggle as another rattling cough took over his body.
“Kaden?” Beau cried.
The boy looked at his father as tears flowed down his face. The young man hacked, unable to control the coughing as it took over his body. He dropped to his knees in the sand.
Ariadne and Beau kneeled beside him. Beau put his hand on his son’s back. “Kaden?” Beau’s voice was strangled.
Kaden coughed again, his body rattled and shook and blood splattered on the sand. Kaden looked up and blood dripped from his mouth, down his chin.
Beau glanced at Ariadne. He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his cell phone and thrust it at her. “Call an ambulance.”
Chapter Twelve
The taxi ride home from the hospital seemed like hours instead of only the thirty minutes it had taken. Ariadne sprinted in and grabbed the first dress she saw and slipped it over her shoulders. She pulled out her car keys and ran out the door. Her hands shook on the drive back to the hospital as she silently prayed that Kaden would be okay.
Beau met her outside the revolving hospital doors. “Thanks for coming back, I know this has to be awkward for you, but I appreciate you being here. It’s nice to not have to go at this alone.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You asked me to be here.” She shoved her keys in her purse as she hurried inside, Beau close behind her. “Is he doing any better?”
“The doctors have done some x-rays and they took blood right after you left. We should be hearing something soon,” Beau said, twisting the watch on his wrist.
The Nymph's Curse: The Collection Page 10