Cursed by the Gods (The Sphinx Book 1)

by Raye Wagner

  “He doesn’t really do local deliveries; it’s all long distance. Besides, he’s unbelievably expensive. The only reason he still has a business is because no one else will do what he does.”

  “But you said he’s really busy, so he must have some good customers, right?”

  Athan sighed. “Yes. He has a group of loyal customers, and then a lot of one-time clients.”

  “I don’t get it. They use the service once, but they don’t like it?”

  “No, more like they only need his services just the one time.” She felt like he was talking in riddles.

  She inhaled, ready to lob another question when he cut her off.

  “It’s not that interesting. Really.”

  With that, he closed the subject.

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry.”

  “No worries.” He took her hand.

  “So you like to run?” Surely, this would be a safe topic.

  “Hmm.” There was a brief pause. “You already know that. Usually when I move, I join the track team.”

  “You like to compete?”

  “Not really.” He laughed. “I know what I can and can’t do. I’m not really trying to prove it to anyone.”

  “So then why join the team? Why not just run by yourself?”

  “I guess I could, but track is a good way to get my running in and get to know people. You know, new in the area, find people with common interests.”

  She laughed. “I noticed you’re pretty friendly.”

  “But you’re not so much.”

  His tone was teasing, and even though there was no malice in the comment, it struck a chord. Her back stiffened, and she attempted to pull away.

  After a moment of hesitation, he released her hand. When he spoke, his voice was soft, conciliatory. “You seem to put a lot of effort into . . . not letting people in.”

  She wavered. His touch was comforting and gentle. She flipped her palm up and wound her fingers back into his embrace.

  “Hope?”

  “Yeah.” Her whisper was an attempt to restrain the emotion bubbling in her heart.

  “Why is that?” He looked sad.

  “What?”

  “Why do you work so hard to push people away?”

  She was unprepared to answer his question; she’d never had to explain. She thought about lying, but then what was the harm in the truth. At least for most of it. “We moved a lot, my mom and me, for most of my life. I guess I already knew I’d be leaving soon, so it was easier to not get attached. I tried having friends once, but it . . . was . . . a disaster. It didn’t seem worth the effort.”

  But it was more than that. The reality was, she didn’t believe she was worth the effort. Not if they knew what she really was.

  “Besides,” she continued, shoving her dark thoughts deep into her soul, “it wasn’t like I was alone; my mom and I were really good friends.”

  Her eyes filled, threatening to overflow.

  “What happened to your mom?”

  “There was an accident.” She waited until she could swallow the lump in her throat before continuing. “I went to school one morning, but when I came home . . .” She shrugged, unable to say more.

  But the lie felt horrible. Someone had killed her mom, and she wanted to shout from the rooftops that she would make them pay for what they did.

  “I’m so sorry.” He was silent for a moment before continuing. “What about your dad? Isn’t he around?”

  “No, he left before I was even born.” Hope shrugged his question off. “I don’t think he’s even listed on the birth certificate.”

  She told him how her lawyer had helped with the emancipation, her time in foster care, and the move to Goldendale. It felt good to share. Really good.

  They pulled up to her house, and he turned the ignition off. The light from across the street was muted through the tinted windows, and they sat cocooned in his truck.

  “I didn’t realize it was so late. I should get to bed.”

  She gathered her clutch and jacket and was surprised when Athan got out of the truck and headed toward the passenger side. Before she could get her seatbelt off, he was opening her door.

  “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

  “Of course I do. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a date.”

  The word brought heat to her cheeks. It was a date?

  When they reached the porch, Hope looked at him, seeing him as if for the first time. His green eyes blazed with live flame, and his tawny hair fell forward just enough that her fingers itched to push through it. With his proximity she could smell him, a hint of soap and the richness that was completely him. Almost like a magnet, she inched toward him.

  He gently stroked her collarbone with just the tips of his fingers, his eyes filled with wonder as he studied her.

  Was he feeling it, too?

  “I have to say, Hope Treadwell, I’m interested in you.” He circled her neck with his hand, his fingers winding into her hair. As he leaned in, his lips brushed her ear. “Very interested.”

  He leaned back, searching her face. She said nothing but forced herself to meet his eyes. Her heart pounded, running its own race, and her knees trembled. He reached out slowly, giving her time to pull back, but she wouldn’t move. Holding her chin, he stroked her lower lip with his thumb. Slowly, achingly slowly, he brought his head low enough that their breath mingled.

  Her eyes fluttered.

  Waiting.

  Athan closed his eyes, and with a swallow he pulled back, his hand dropping to his side. He turned and was down the steps before she was able to gather her thoughts.

  “See you tomorrow.” His voice was rough.

  Dumbfounded and confused, she stood staring at him. She should say something, but words failed her. It took a concentrated effort for her to turn toward the door and not chase him out to his truck.

  It took several seconds to gather herself enough to focus on the door and get it open. When she finally did, she was surprised to see Athan still waiting at the curb. She forced a smile and waved before she closed the door.

  Seriously . . . What was that?

  He was going to kiss her, but then he pulled back? Did she have bad breath? Something between her teeth? Did she smell like an animal? Could humans tell?

  No biggie, she told herself, trying to discount his obvious dismissal. Really, was she even interested in him like that?

  The answer was instantaneous.

  Hope limply held the green basket in one hand, the wrapped steaks rolling from side to side. In her other hand, she held a large piece of poster board. She stood in line at the Red Apple. The one cashier today had to be approaching sixty, and her burgundy hair clashed with the red employee vest. By the time Hope got out, she might be sixty, too.

  She glanced at the racks of candy and gum and then turned. The other side of the aisle was lined with glossy covers featuring cakes, swim-suit clad models, and airbrushed movie stars. Interspersed were matte covers of newspapers reporting alien babies and talking animals. Although, maybe there was some truth to the talking animal thing.

  Oh. Sweet. Hera.

  Monster Tore Up My Orchard

  Hope set her basket down and grabbed the Daily Star.

  Danny Graves awoke early that March morning to get the cows out to pasture. The birds were chirping, and the weather was unusually mild for early spring. That’s when he heard the terrible screams. “Sounded like someone cryin’ and dyin’ all at the same time. They was hollerin’ and such something awful.” What he found when he went to investigate left him speechless. “My orchard was just destroyed. Big ole trees all torn up, like someone was pluckin’ weeds—roots hanging upside down and all.”

  Hope swallowed. This could not be happening. How could she have been so careless? After all the warnings from her mom. The disappointment was sour and hard to swallow.

  Graves claims to have heard the banshee-like screams for several minutes. He was shocked when, as
the sky was lightening, he witnessed a large beast flying out of his orchard. “I must have been right scared ‘cause I didn’t even think to use my shortie,” Graves said as he patted a sawed off shotgun beside him. According to Graves, the monster had the wings of a bird, the legs of an animal, and a top half that looked human.

  “Do you want to get that?” The clerk looked over her glasses at Hope.

  “Oh, uh. No. No, thank you.” Hope put the paper back in the wire bracket, face down. If only it were that easy to bury the story.

  “Readin’ about the Sphinx, huh?”

  “What?” Anxiety rolled from her neck through her chest, leaving her skin prickled with chill.

  “That’s what they’re calling it. That monster that tore up that man’s orchard.”

  Hope nodded. Hades in hell.

  “Seventeen eighty-two.”

  Hope handed her a twenty.

  “Then he got a bunch of ancient coins worth a fortune in the mail. He’ll never have to work again, they say.” She held out Hope’s change. “You have yourself a nice day, and don’t worry none. They’ll catch that monster soon enough, just you see.”

  Hope nodded and left the store. That was exactly what she was afraid of.

  The information on the internet confirmed everything the grocery clerk had said and went further. There was even a petition at the end of the article asking for demigods to hunt down the beast.

  Great.

  Hope didn’t sign it.

  By late afternoon, she was restive and cross. She hadn’t heard from Athan, and Haley was out with Tristan. Hope needed to get out of her house. More than anything, she wanted a run.

  It’s fine. You want to run, so run. She decided that, despite her fear, she would. She changed her clothes and strapped on the Velcro belt that held the leather sheath. She’d improvised a casing for an immortal dagger and strapped the golden knife to her hip, tucking it into her shorts. It felt odd, but she wasn’t running without one of the blades.

  The sun was setting as Hope took her second lap around the small town. She waved at Tristan and Haley who were having dinner on the patio of Sal’s Pizza, the smell of oregano and yeasty bread heavy in the air.

  She rounded the corner and slowed to a jog and then a walk. The anemic streetlights did nothing to light the path at dusk, and the sidewalk around her house was broken and uneven.

  In four days, she would change again. Tuesday was going to suck. Hard. She needed to come up with something to tell Haley and Athan­­­ before she left—

  A man walked from the darkness between two homes.

  Oh gods.

  “Little monster,” he rasped.

  The Skia was the same one that had killed the demigod, Brand. Her heart raced, and she pulled out the golden blade, waving it in front of her.

  “Stay away from me!” Her voice trembled.

  He chuckled. “You don’t even know how to use that, Sphinx.”

  Her stomach churned. She couldn’t deny it. “Don’t come any closer, or you’ll find out how well I use it.”

  He stepped back and put his hands up, but the leer plastered on his face showed no fear.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said.

  “Then what do you want?” Her gaze darted to the shadows, then back to him.

  “My master would like to invite you for an audience. He would like to speak with you.” His laugh was a dry wheeze. “The gods are all astir . . . Because of you.”

  A door slammed, and someone cursed.

  “You tell him no. I have no interest in talking with Hades.” She took a deep breath. “And leave me alone. You might think I’m harmless, but I’ll kill you if you threaten me.”

  The Skia nodded, as if accepting her answer. He pointed to the home behind her. “Be careful, Sphinx. Your curse will not protect you from . . . everything.”

  Hope turned to see a man in cutoff jeans and a dirty tank top coming off his dilapidated front porch.

  “Who’s there?” He slurred the words.

  Hope turned back to the Skia, but he was gone. Hope said nothing as she slunk past the man dragging his garbage can to the curb.

  What did it say that she was more afraid of the drunk man than the Skia?

  Once inside her house, Hope locked the door behind her and looked at the statue on the mantel. She had no idea how it worked, but she was grateful for the protection of Hecate.

  Anxious and filled with nervous energy, Hope focused on tasks over which she had control. She showered, dressed in pajamas, ate the rest of the steak she’d grilled earlier, texted Haley then started on her last bit of homework.

  In black marker, she outlined the endothermic reaction of citric acid and baking soda on the bright-pink poster board.

  Her phone buzzed, then rang.

  Finally. She tapped Accept and brought it to her ear.

  “Hey, are you done with your chemistry poster, yet?” Hope asked.

  A man chuckled. “I had no idea you’d be so young.”

  Her stomach dropped.

  “Who is this?” She held the phone out and looked at the screen. Priska’s number. No. No, no, no!

  “We know what you are . . . Sphinx.” He hissed the last word, as if a curse.

  She clenched the phone, her knuckles turning white.

  “Who are you?” She pushed the words out in an anxious whisper. “Where’s Priska?”

  “We will destroy you. And we will send you to Hades.”

  “Where’s Priska?” she screamed.

  The man laughed.

  Her hand shook, and she tapped End over and over and over. Could they trace a cell phone?

  Her phone rang again. And again. And again.

  What could she do? What should she do? Her panic overwhelmed her, and she sat immobilized.

  Thud, thud, thud.

  Hope screamed.

  “Hope?” Haley’s voice came through the door. “I know you’re home!”

  Hope jumped from the chair and raced to the door. Her hand trembled as she undid the deadbolt. Pulling open the door, she tugged Haley inside.

  “So, did I see you run by Sal’s earlier?” Haley closed the door behind her. “I thought I saw you.” She stopped at the kitchen table. “And how much more homework do you have? I wanted to go to Portland tonight, but we’ll never make it back by ten. Maybe we could go to Yakima. I’m dying to go shopping.” She turned and looked at Hope. “Holy Hades, what happened to you? Was . . . Was that you screaming?”

  Hope couldn’t stop the tremor, and she nodded. “Yeah. I . . . just . . . uh . . . Remember those prank calls I was getting? Well, they’ve been calling, again. So . . . I need to get a new phone.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re getting the new iPhone.” Haley’s shoulders sagged, then she straightened. “Wait, did you say those guys are calling again? Oh. My. Gods. For real?”

  Hope nodded. “Do you know if you can trace where a phone is? Like the physical location?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Haley frowned. “We can ask at the store. And if they can, we’ll just dump it in the river. Are you all right?”

  Hope nodded and grabbed her coat. “Yeah. Let’s go. Now.”

  Hope locked the door while Haley went out to get the car started. As Hope turned, she saw the short Skia standing in the shadow of a tree. He nodded once and faded away.

  Her heart couldn’t take anymore.

  She ran to the car.

  Hope lay in bed and thought about Athan. Two days ago seemed like forever. And that moment at the door? She was sure he was going to kiss her. But then, why didn’t he? And why did he never call her? She hadn’t imagined that date, and he’d even called it that. Was it normal to be all hot and cold like that?

  She kicked off the covers, eager to see him at school. At least there he wouldn’t be able to avoid her and she could find out what was going on.

  A couple hours later, she pulled into the back parking lot of the school. Her phone buzzed, then rang, and after ch
ecking the screen, she answered it with a frown.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Melody at Mr. Davenport’s office, will you please hold for Mr. Davenport?”

  Hope rolled her eyes. She’d called him not even twenty minutes ago with her new phone number. “Of course.”

  The sounds of classical music filled her ear, and then: “Hope?”

  “You called me, Mr. Davenport.”

  He laughed. “So I did. How are you holding up?”

  She told him about Mr. Jeffers and her worry about getting in trouble with the truancy board, and her emancipation being threatened. “I need to change again in two days, and . . . I just don’t think I could go back into foster care.”

  “I won’t let that happen. If he files a truancy order, just forward it to me.”

  “Okay. Have you found anything? About Priska?” Hope asked.

  Mr. Davenport sighed. “No. That’s partly why I’m calling. Priska was the trustee over your assets. With her . . . disappearance, I’ve got to redraft the trust. I think the easiest thing to do is make you the trustee, now that you’re emancipated.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He explained in great detail that she would have sole discretion over her money. “Just like it’s been, except this will make it official.”

  “So what do I need to do?

  He chuckled. “Just come sign a bunch of papers, or I could mail them, or even email them.”

  “No. I’ll just come over. At least this way I’ll have an excuse to be gone.” She thought about how she could tell her teachers she had a meeting with her attorney. That was a good reason to be absent, right?”

  “Hello?” Mr. Davenport asked.

  “Sorry, sorry. I was looking at the calendar. Could I come on Friday? Nine o’clock-ish?”

  “Sure. That would be fine. See you then.” He disconnected the call, and Hope let her arm fall. Now she would need to talk to her teachers and get the makeup work.

  She looked around the parking lot. Where was Athan?

  “What the Hades, Hope!” Haley slammed Hope’s locker shut. The bell rang, and Hope was collecting her homework so she could sneak off to the library. “You can’t go and hook up over the weekend and not tell me. I mean, we were out all last night, and you said nothing about your date.” Haley air-quoted the word date.