What a Goddess Wants

by Stephanie Julian

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2011 by Stephanie Julian

  Cover and internal design © 2011 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Lesley Worrell

  Cover image © Stockphoto4u/iStockphoto.com

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  FAX: (630) 961-2168

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Julian, Stephanie.

  What a goddess wants / by Stephanie Julian.

  p. cm.

  1. Goddesses—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3610.U5346W47 2011

  813’.6—dc22

  2011015763

  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Glossary

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Excerpt from How to Worship a Goddess

  Back Cover

  For my love, David, without whom it just wouldn’t be worth it.

  And for my guys, Taylor and Joshua, who make me laugh, cry, scream, and smile, usually at the same time.

  Glossary

  Aguane—Etruscan elemental water spirits, always female

  Aitás—Etruscan Underworld

  Arus—Magical power inherent in the races of Etruscan descent

  Candelas—Tiny, glowing Etruscan sprites

  Cimmerians—Warriors from Cimmeria, a shadowy land between the planes of existence. Have legendary strength and bravery. Don’t feel pain, heat, or cold, and they lose their humanity over years of fighting. Live longer than humans; burned by the sun.

  Enu—Humans of magical Etruscan descent

  Eteri—Etruscan for foreigner, used to describe regular humans

  Fata—Elemental beings of magical Etruscan descent

  Folletta—Etruscan fairy

  Gianes—Female wood elves

  Involuti—Founding gods of the Etruscans, those from whom all other Etruscan deities were descended

  Lauru—Etruscan sprites who love to clean

  Linchetto (pl. linchetti)—Etruscan Fata, a night elf

  Lucani—Etruscan werewolves

  Salbinelli—Etruscan satyr

  Strega (pl. streghe)—Etruscan witch

  Versipellis—Literally “skin shifter;” shapeshifters including Etruscan Lucani (wolves), Norse Berkserkir (bears), and French loup garou (wolves)

  Prologue

  The third blow from the iron hammer sent Caligo to the ground.

  His face hit first, of course, and he spat blood until it pooled on the blacktop beside him. He thought about getting up, but really, why bother? He’d just end up back there again.

  Three blows from the pissed-off Roman God of Volcanoes and Blacksmiths were two more than enough to convince Cal that no woman was worth the beating.

  Not even Venus.

  “Not so pretty now, is he, babe?” Vulcan shook his head, the girly black curls he was so proud of quivering around his ruddy face. “I don’t know why you continue to bed these inferior humans. They’re weak. And you know they can’t satisfy your needs.”

  Cal couldn’t help himself. “Maybe because she knows your dick is no bigger than my thu—”

  Vulcan stepped on Cal’s neck, effectively cutting off his air supply and his voice with one dainty Italian loafer. “Let’s go home, babe. I’m sick of this crap.”

  “Oh, fine.” Venus sighed. “I’m bored now anyway.”

  The Roman Goddess of Love and Beauty flung flame-red hair over her shoulder and barely glanced down at Cal as she stepped over him to take Vulcan’s arm.

  Her heel landed mere centimeters from Cal’s nose.

  He remembered those shoes. She’d worn them the last time they’d fucked. He probably still had the indentations in his thighs from where she’d dug them in, screaming his name as she came.

  As Cal watched the deities walk away, Venus turned, her little black dress swinging around her ass, to give him a wink and a little wave.

  To which he replied with a time-honored one-finger salute. Bitch.

  As the couple disappeared down the deserted alley off South Street in Philadelphia, Cal dragged himself to the nearest wall and leaned against it, wiping blood from his chin and his left ear. The ringing in his head sounded like the extended buzz of a heavy-metal guitar, and his face throbbed, though he felt no pain. Probably gonna have a few new scars to add to the collection.

  He shook his head, which just made him dizzy, and began assessing the damage. “When are you going to learn, asshole?”

  He’d asked himself the question before. But here he was again, wounded and pissed off because he’d gone out of his way to help a pretty woman who obviously hadn’t needed his help.

  Fucking goddesses. Never a good idea.

  As he cataloged the various bruises, cuts, and broken bones, he considered making the trek back to his car on Bainbridge but he figured someone would call the cops at the first sight of him.

  Here seemed as good as any place to die. And if, by some miracle, he didn’t die, this was the last fucking time he ever took a job for a deity.

  They screwed you over every damn time.

  Chapter 1

  Dying was so beneath her.

  Of course, she hadn’t done much living lately, so if he caught her now… Well, that would just suck. Because she’d recently decided it was time to change her ways. Get out more. Live a little. Get laid.

  How pitiful was it that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex? Or if it had even been any good.

  Pretty freaking pitiful.

  Thesan, Etruscan Goddess of the Dawn, Lady of the Golden Light, was sick of being a pretty, useless deity. Much less a pretty, useless one usually just called Tessa.

  For centuries… millennia… she’d brought light and beauty to the world. She’d guided the sun into the morning sky. She’d seen the rise and fall of empires. Gods had lusted after her. She’d worn out her share of mortal men in her bed.

  She’d been worshipped by millions. Okay, maybe millions was stretching it just a bit. Still, she’d had a following, people who’d adored her and who’d worshipped her.

  Now she was being chased by a crazed god intent on consuming her powers and leaving what was left of her soul to rot for all eternity in the dreary Etruscan Underworld of Aitás.

  That totally sucked.

  So did this. Her lungs heaved as she ran through a dark forest, the night sky black. No moon shone above. No stars twinkled. No reflected sunlight gave her even a hint of power.

  Her legs shook like wet noodles, threatening to collapse at any moment. The und
erbrush swiped at her calves, and tree limbs caught at her hair, yanking and pulling.

  Peering over her shoulder, she saw a dark shape weaving through the trees behind her. Her heart hurt as it pounded in her chest. Her bare feet bled and ached as she stumbled along.

  Oh, she knew she really wasn’t running. She was actually asleep in her lonely bed in her home in the quiet hills of eastern Pennsylvania. She knew that because she’d had the same dream for the past three weeks.

  Charun, that blackhearted bastard, was taunting her like a high school bully picking on a weaker kid. But Charun’s intent wasn’t to merely frighten her, though the bastard did get a kick out of it.

  No, he was wearing her down, waiting for her to make a mistake so he could pinpoint her location. So far, she’d been able to keep her whereabouts a secret. But when he broke through her defenses, he’d send one of his demons to drag her down to Aitás. To him.

  The bastard couldn’t come himself. He was tied to Aitás by bindings even he couldn’t break. At least, not now.

  But if he found her, if he managed to accomplish what she thought he had planned, then soon, maybe, he would be able to break those bonds. And this world would suffer as the demons and the damned escaped with him.

  And she’d never get laid again. Damn it, she’d much rather go out with a literal bang than a figurative one.

  With a gasp, she broke free of the dream and sat straight up in her bed, blinking at the bright light even though it was… three o’clock in the morning, according to the clock on the bedside table.

  She’d left all the lamps blazing in her bedroom. An infomercial blared from the television, and the stereo on the nightstand blasted Puccini. None of it had been able to keep her awake. Probably because she could count on both hands the number of hours she’d slept in the past three weeks.

  Damn it, she needed help.

  Her nose wrinkled at the thought. She, a goddess, needed help. Wasn’t that a real kick in a perfectly fine ass?

  “Which won’t mean a damn thing if Charun gets hold of it,” she muttered to absolutely no one.

  Hell, if she survived Charun, she needed to get out of the house so someone could see her fine ass again. Playing the hermit didn’t suit her. She’d been one of the original party girls in her day, playing all night before hurrying off to meet the lovely sun each morning.

  But now she was a forgotten goddess, her main reason for being usurped by that bitch of a Roman goddess named Aurora—

  She took a deep breath. No, she couldn’t think about that. Those thoughts led to teeth gnashing and sore jaws.

  Still, she’d become a goddess without a true calling. What should she do with her never-ending life?

  Oh, she delivered a baby or ten or twenty every year. In addition to being a sun goddess, she also helped bring new life into the world, one of the more pleasurable aspects of her life.

  But that left her with a whole hell of a lot of time to fill. A girl could only do so much shopping and have so much sex before it all became so very… mundane.

  She wanted to be useful again. She wanted the remaining Etruscans, those who still followed the old ways, to remember that she even existed. And she most certainly did not want to be eaten by Charun.

  She needed help. And she knew just the person to help her find it.

  ***

  “Hang tight… I’m coming. Just give me a minute.”

  The voice came from the second floor as Tessa stood in the entry hall of the small townhouse in Reading, Pennsylvania.

  In front of her, a stairway led along the right side of the house to the upper floors. To the left of the stairway, a hall led straight down the center of the house. To the far left, a doorway led into the front sitting room.

  Every inch of the place looked like it belonged to an inner-city Brady Bunch, from the ’80s-era paisley wallpaper to the colonial blue paint on the trim. Cream carpet covered every inch of the floor, and an umbrella stood next to the small half-round table in the entry.

  It all looked so normal, Tessa thought. So middle class.

  Until Salvatorus began to stomp down the stairs. Then what would have seemed completely normal to any eteri, any nonmagical human, made a complete left turn into mythology land.

  At four foot nothing, Sal had the fully developed upper body of a grown man. Wide shoulders, strong arms, nice pecs.

  His face was a true marvel of his Etruscan heritage, handsome and strong. And those brown eyes, so dark they looked almost black, held a knowing warmth that always made Tessa smile.

  As did the two shiny black horns sprouting from just above his forehead to peek through his glossy, black, curly hair. On any other man, those horns would have been enough to make a grown man choke on his own breath.

  On Sal, well, the goat legs stole the show.

  Beginning just below his belly button, those legs were covered with hide, a silky chestnut brown fur that was not a pair of pants. No, Sal had the actual legs of a goat.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said as he clomped down the stairs. “Haven’t seen you for a while. What’s up?”

  His deep Noo Yawk accent made her smile grow. But her fear must have shown in her eyes because Salvatorus’s gaze narrowed.

  “Are you hurt, Tessa?” He descended the rest of the steps on those small hooves so fast she worried for his safety. But he made it safely to the bottom, took her hand, and began to lead her through the house.

  “No.” Not yet, anyway. “I’m fine.”

  “Well, you let me be the judge of that.”

  Salvatorus led her to the kitchen at the very back of the house and pointed her toward a seat at the small table there. He didn’t speak, not right away, but set about making her hot chocolate, the rich scent of it making her stomach rumble.

  Tessa had been here many times before, mainly for parties. She did love a good party, and Salvatorus threw some of the best. But his home also served as a safe house for anyone of Etruscan descent, including those deities who needed his aid.

  She’d never sought aid from Salvatorus before. Really, a goddess who needed help? It sounded ridiculous.

  And yet, not so much now.

  Sliding into a straight-backed wooden chair, she let her gaze wander out the window over the sink and into the courtyard in the back. The August garden burst with color and fragrance that wafted in through the open window, enticing her to draw a deep breath. Roses, herbs, perennials, bushes, and trees bloomed and thrived in Sal’s garden, no bigger than twenty feet by twenty feet.

  It was beautiful, a testament to the sun’s nurturing power and Salvatorus’s skill.

  Tears bit at the corners of her eyes. She tried to blink them away before they fell, but one escaped and plopped right into the mug of hot chocolate that appeared in front of her.

  “All right, babe.” Salvatorus slid into the chair opposite her. “Spill. And I don’t mean tears.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Did you know Mlukukh has been missing? For more than a month.”

  If she’d surprised Salvatorus with her statement about another forgotten Etruscan goddess, he showed no sign of it. “No, I hadn’t heard. But then Mel has dropped off the face of the earth for years, sometimes decades. She’s always returned.”

  Tessa shook her head. “I don’t think she will this time. In fact, I’m pretty sure I know what happened to her.”

  Salvatorus’s eyelids lifted. “And that is…?”

  She took a deep breath before leaving it out on a sigh. “I think Charun had her snatched and taken to Aitás where he consumed her powers and left her shell to rot in the underworld.”

  Now Salvatorus’s eyes narrowed. “And you know this how?”

  “Because he told me. He told me that’s what he’s going to do to me as well.”

  Chapter 2

  Okay, maybe she should have gotten a second opinion.

  Looking around her, she saw nothing but trees. Huge old pines and oaks that looked ominous in the fast-falling dusk.
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  Behind her, she barely saw the deer trail that passed for a lane. She’d had to leave her car almost half a mile back on that lane, afraid her little Mini Cooper would get stuck in a rut, especially when rain began to pour from the sky in sheets.

  Her soaking wet clothes clung to her skin, chilling her to the bone.

  Just freaking perfect.

  Tessa really didn’t want to be here. But she had few choices left to her.

  It royally pissed her off that she’d been reduced to begging for help of any kind, but especially from a man. She’d taken care of herself for as long as she could remember.

  And she’d done a damn good job of it so far, if she did say so herself. Still, death was such an unappealing option.

  Sal said she needed this man, Caligo, to protect her.

  Grimacing, she wondered what parent would saddle their child with a name that meant “darkness” in Latin. Probably more of an affectation than a calling, if you asked her—

  “Oh, Uni’s ass,” she muttered to herself. “Yes, I’m stalling. So who cares?”

  Nobody, really. Except Charun. He’d be very happy if she stalled long enough for him to catch her.

  So just do it.

  Taking a deep breath, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door, which was surprisingly sturdy beneath her knuckles. She placed her hand flat on the surface and let her senses sink into the metal—and felt steel laced with iron bars and a healthy coating of magic.

  Since she was in the middle of nowhere northern Berks County at an abandoned-looking shack, that combination of strength and protective magic proved she was in the right place. As did the runes worked into the graffiti covering the walls of the structure.

  To anyone not of Etruscan descent—and really, what good was anyone who wasn’t—the runes would look like random lines and curves. But Tessa recognized an intricate Etruscan spell of protection alongside an ancient Egyptian curse and a Norse hex.

  She was fairly sure she saw a few spells of Sumerian and Celtic origin as well, but it’d been a while since… well, better just leave it at it’d been a while.