Dangerously Divine

by Deborah Blake

  She blinked up at him as if coming out of a trance. Which, in a way, she probably was. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “Holy goddess.”

  Gregori blinked back, feeling like he was missing something. “Yes, you said that. But it does not tell me if the storm is natural or magical.”

  Bella loosened her grip on the bowl and pushed it away as if it held something much more dangerous than water. “It does, actually. That wasn’t a random exclamation, it was a report.”

  The other shoe dropped with a thud. In fact, the other shoe was a steel-toed boot, hitting him in the shin. “Are you saying you saw a goddess in the scrying bowl?” Gregori said, taking an involuntary step backward. Nobody with any sense wanted to mess with the gods.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Bella shuddered. “What’s more, I’m pretty sure she saw me. Dump that water out, will you? And then we need to talk. If this storm was caused by a goddess, we’ve got a much bigger problem than we originally thought. I’m just a Baba Yaga. We’re the most powerful witches in the world, but goddesses are way above my pay grade.”

  If a goddess was out of Bella’s league, what did that mean for a lowly former Rider? Nothing good, that was for certain.

  Gregori carried the now-innocuous bowl over to the sink and dumped it, leaving it turned upside down in the dish drainer for good measure before sinking heavily into the chair next to Bella. The chair rocked ominously, not unlike his world.

  “Why would a goddess be dumping the storm of the century on the Twin Cities?” he asked. When Bella opened her mouth to answer, he shook his head. “Sorry, that is not the right question, at least not yet. Could you identify the goddess? The who might help us identify the why.”

  “I don’t suppose your friend has any vodka,” Bella muttered, clearly still shaken.

  “Sorry,” Gregori said. “She is a recovering drug addict. No alcohol in the house.”

  “Ah,” Bella said. “Okay, then. But just so you know, I’m drinking later.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Bella tapped one finger against her lips, thinking. “To answer your question, no, I didn’t recognize the goddess. I could tell she was one—something about the aura, I suppose, or a feeling of extreme power and age—but I’ve never met a goddess. Have you?”

  “Numerous, actually,” Gregori admitted. “When my brothers and I were growing up, we spent a fair amount of time in the realm of the gods when we visited my father. Mind you, these were primarily Russian gods, but there were occasional visits from others. Can you describe the woman you saw? Perhaps I might recognize her from a description.”

  Bella stared at him.

  “What?” he asked her.

  “Did you just say your father was a god?” she said, eyes wide.

  From the windowsill, Koshka made a choking noise that was either a hairball or dragon-cat laughter. Gregori was betting on the latter.

  “This is what you Riders get for being so mysterious about your origins,” Koshka said without taking his gaze off of the road below. “Now the Baba Yagas will be talking of nothing else for months.”

  “Yes, our father was Jarilo, the son of the thunder god Perun. Jarilo was a god of spring and vegetation who died and was reborn each year. He is the one who created the Riders, by having relationships with each of our mothers. He is also the one from whom we got our immortality. While we had it.” Gregori sighed. “It is a long story, one we do not have time for at the moment.”

  “Uh-huh.” Bella raised an eyebrow. “You might as well wait and explain it when Barbara and Beka are both there too. We’ve always wondered where the Riders came from. You know they are going to have questions.”

  “All of which are irrelevant now,” Gregori pointed out. “Since we are Riders no longer. Now, about this goddess you saw?”

  Bella gave up, at least temporarily. “Well, she was beautiful. I’d say she fell into the ‘mother’ stage of the ‘maiden, mother, crone’ cycle; although her hair was long and white, I didn’t get the impression that she was an old woman, the way you do with some goddesses. She had icy blue eyes that sent a shiver down my spine when they looked at me. In fact, I generally got the feeling of cold off of her, but maybe that’s just because I was concentrating on the blizzard.”

  Gregori got a chill of his own. “I doubt it,” he said. “I believe you saw Morena, the goddess of winter and death. She was Jarilo’s counterpart, and in some of the mythology, both his sister and his wife. Either way, I had thought her gone with the other gods, but if she exists, calling up a storm like this would easily be within her powers.”

  “But why would she do it?” Bella asked. “I mean, since when do long-lost Russian goddesses show up in Minnesota and cause chaos just for the hell of it?”

  “That is a very good question,” he said. “The answer would be ‘never,’ as far as I am aware. Someone must have summoned her and petitioned her to create this storm. But who would do that and why? We seem to have answered one question only to have raised a host of others.”

  “Huh,” Bella said, getting up from the table and pacing around the small space as if the movement would help her to think. “I expect we can at least narrow the who down to people who had knowledge of this particular goddess. I wouldn’t think that would include most of the general population.”

  “That is a good point,” Gregori acknowledged. “A reasonable amount of Humans are familiar with some of the Greek and Roman gods, such as Apollo and Zeus, Venus, and the like. Some probably know a few Norse gods, like Thor. But Morena is hardly a household name.”

  “Does that mean we are looking for someone Russian?”

  “Russian or Slavic, perhaps,” he said. “Although I suppose a scholar who was researching the culture might have come across her. I will have to ask Ciera if anyone has been making inquiries at the library, the next time I see her.”

  His glance strayed to the scene outside the window, where the snow continued to fall. All his instincts urged him to go out there, to search until he found Ciera and ensured that she was safe. But if a goddess had indeed brought down this storm on the Twin Cities, no one would be safe until she was stopped.

  Gregori pulled his attention back to the matter at hand by force of will alone. “I cannot imagine why anyone would want to call down a storm such as this one, even if he or she somehow knew of the goddess and knew the old ways to ask for her help. But more than that, even if we could figure out the answer to that question, I do not have the answer to a much more urgent query—how do we stop her?”

  Bella bit her lip. “Are we sure the storm won’t eventually just stop on its own? Blow itself out?”

  A wave of despair threatened to overwhelm Gregori. He was not accustomed to feeling helpless. It was not a sensation he enjoyed.

  He got up and stood by the window, looking out at the street, by now almost indistinguishable from the sidewalk next to it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing the despair and frustration to flow out with it.

  “You said that Barbara had told you I have been having visions. Those visions have been of snow and blood, destruction and death. Many, many deaths.” He closed his eyes for a moment and the visions were still there, lurking at the edges of his consciousness. He opened his eyes again and went back to staring at the snow—still clean and pure for now, although no less deadly for all that.

  “Okay, then,” Bella said. “So we need to figure out how to stop a goddess. Great.” She came and stood next to him, one hand reaching out to pet Koshka. “I wish Barbara was here.”

  “I am not certain even Barbara would be able to help us in this situation. She is the most powerful of the three of you, but she is no match for a goddess,” Gregori said, a little bleakly.

  Inexplicably, Bella’s face lightened. “I bet I know who is, though.”

  Both Koshka and Gregori swiveled their heads around to star
e at her.

  “The witch has a clever idea,” Koshka said. “This is going to be fun.”

  Somehow Gregori doubted that fun was going to come into it. “What are you thinking, Bella?” And why do I suspect I am going to hate it, whatever it is?

  “Who better to fight a goddess than a god?” Bella said triumphantly. “I think you should call your father.”

  CHAPTER 22

  “IT is not as though he has a cell phone,” Gregori said in an even voice, every atom in his body resisting the suggestion. “I am not even certain he still exists. The old gods have not been heard from in centuries.”

  “If Morena is still around, then probably Jarilo is, too, wouldn’t you think?” Bella’s eyes sparkled. He wasn’t sure if she was more excited by the prospect of coming up with a solution to the problem or the prospect of meeting an actual god. Or maybe she was just enjoying torturing him.

  Gregori sighed. “Possibly. To be honest, I had already been considering the possibility of attempting to contact him, as part of my effort to track down my mother. I had not yet worked out if I had any desire to speak to him, or what I would say if I did.”

  “I’m thinking you’ve got a damned good reason to now,” Koshka said. He put his nose against the frost-laced windowpane in front of him, smudging the design. “Your friend Ciera is out in that mess, and your father may be your best bet at fixing this before the storm kills her. Not to mention a bunch of other people. Maybe it is time to get over your daddy issues and just deal with it.”

  “Where does he learn to talk like that?” Gregori asked.

  “Jazz insisted we get a television,” Bella explained. “My teenager is a bad influence on my dragon.”

  “Hey,” Koshka protested. “It goes both ways. I’m a bad influence on her too.”

  “That isn’t something to brag about,” Bella said with a scowl. “And don’t think we aren’t going to discuss the two of you sneaking off to the Otherworld last week when we get home.”

  Koshka immediately found something fascinating on the pads of one paw and started licking at it assiduously.

  “As for you,” Bella said, turning to Gregori, “I’d suggest starting with something simple, like: Hello, Dad, long time no see. By the way, could you please come save a large chunk of Minnesota from an out-of-control goddess?” She thought for a moment. “Oh, and maybe you could ask him to bring along some damn vodka.”

  • • •

  THE Hummer was huge, perfect both for managing the tough Minnesota winters and for intimidating anyone who saw it. It suited its owner well—practical and showy, all at the same time.

  The vehicle had six doors, and Ciera had been ushered into the middle row. Once inside, she could see a scared-looking Kelli in the seat next to her, with her two friends peering wide-eyed from the rearmost row. Julie Ann looked more defiant than afraid, and Shannon just seemed confused. None of them appeared to have been harmed, except that Shannon’s lip was bleeding where her piercing had been torn out rather than removed voluntarily.

  “Hey, guys,” Ciera said. “I was looking for you. You all okay?”

  “That bastard has my damned lip ring,” Shannon said as the large man slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. “Tell him to give it back.”

  “Do you know these guys, Ciera?” Kelli asked, her voice squeaking a little. “They told us they were friends of yours and that you sent them, but when we didn’t want to get into the car, they made us.” She looked like she’d been crying, her heavily applied eyeliner smudged into circles under her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Kelli,” Ciera said. “I didn’t send them.” She looked over the seat in front of her at the back of a head of glossy dark hair. “I do know one of these men, yes. But he isn’t what I’d call a friend.” More like her worst nightmare.

  The owner of the glossy hair said to the driver, “Get us out of here, Roy. This car is way too conspicuous.” Then as the car pulled smoothly out into the icy street, he turned around and gave Ciera a broad smile that never reached his deep brown eyes. “Hello, Suzy. Long time no see.”

  “Not long enough,” she muttered. Then she added in a louder voice, “And my name is Ciera.”

  “Of course,” Victor said. “I knew that. As it happens, I know a great many things, including the fact that you are poking your nose into places it doesn’t belong. I decided it was time for us to have a little chat, and I thought I would take advantage of this lovely storm and all the confusion it is causing. I don’t suppose anyone will have the time or energy to go looking for you for quite some time, do you?”

  Ciera bit her lip, thinking about Gregori. Would he look for her? Or would he just assume that she was off on her mission? Victor was probably right about everyone being too busy coping with the storm to look for one missing librarian, if they even realized she was missing. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying so.

  “You didn’t need to involve these girls,” she said instead. “They don’t have anything to do with this. We’re still not all that far from the shelter. Why don’t you let them out here and they can walk back to where it is warm and safe.”

  “Isn’t it warm enough for you in the Hummer, Ciera?” Victor asked. He turned to the driver. “Turn up the heat, Roy. We wouldn’t want our guests to be uncomfortable.” He twisted back around to face her.

  “As for the girls, they were quite useful in getting you to come out on your own, weren’t they? I was going to have one of them send you a message, but I didn’t even have to bother. You came out without it. You always did have a soft heart.” He sneered at the foolishness of such a weakness. “It seems to me that it might be better to keep them around for a while to ensure your cooperation.”

  He gave the three girls his barracuda smile and held out a small packet filled with white powder. “What do you say, ladies? If you promise to play nice, there is a lot more where this came from.”

  Kelli started to reach for the packet, but Julie Ann put her hand through the seats to stop her. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’ll give us all the drugs we want to help you do something bad to Ciera? Is that the plan?”

  Victor raised one eyebrow. “You’re a smart girl. In which case, you are probably smart enough to figure out that whatever I want to do to your pal Ciera is going to happen anyway. Wouldn’t it be better to make it easy on yourselves and just go along with what I want?”

  Kelli slowly drew her hand back, a mulish expression replacing the fear on her face. “No,” she said. “Ciera is good people. We’re not helping you.”

  “Hell no,” Julie Ann echoed from the backseat.

  “What they said,” Shannon agreed. “Also, you ripped my lip, so, like, bite me.”

  Ciera was stunned. She knew the teens liked and trusted her, at least as much as they liked and trusted any adult, but this show of support—no matter how ill-advised—moved her more than she would have thought possible. Apparently, while she had been trying to hold herself apart from forming relationships with others, the connections had been forged regardless of her intention.

  She was so proud of those three girls, she thought her heart was going to burst.

  “Fine,” Victor said shortly, tucking the glassine envelope away. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.” The hand that had been holding the packet reappeared with a pistol.

  Kelli let out a tiny scream and pulled back into the corner of her seat, as far away as she could get. Shannon closed her eyes, looking resigned and beaten. Julie Ann just glared at him. Ciera thought that if the teen death stare were truly a superpower, Julie Ann could have saved them all. Ciera would never forgive herself if anything happened to the girls because of her. It had never occurred to her that innocents—or what passed for them in this circumstance—might get drawn into her past troubles.

  “Look,” she said to Victor. “I don’t know why you’v
e finally decided to come after me after all these years, but these three have nothing to do with it. Let them go and I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  Victor just laughed, showing off perfect white teeth against his dark skin. “My darling Suzy—oh, I’m sorry, Ciera. You are going to do what I say no matter what. But you have never been very good at that, have you? So it seems to me that it might work out better for me to keep your little friends around for a while to make sure you don’t change your mind.”

  “Victor . . .” She started to say something, maybe even to beg, although in all the years she had been with him, she had never resorted to that before.

  He reached over the back of the seat and smashed the end of the gun into her face, gashing her cheek and sending jagged electric splinters shooting through her body. The sudden pain rocked her backward, and blood dripped onto the Hummer’s pristine tan upholstery. Victor’s smile never wavered.

  “Shut up,” he said. “I’m talking. From now on, if I’m talking, you just keep your mouth closed, do you understand me?”

  Ciera nodded, blinking back tears brought on more by rage and shock than by the pain itself.

  “Excellent,” Victor said. “Here is how it is going to be. You will come back to me willingly, and give me your word you will never leave again without my permission. You will stop all this do-gooder nonsense, and walk away from your job at the library and everything else that has been a part of the life you built since you left me. Including that stupid name. You will go back to being plain old Suzy, and take your medicine like a good little girl whenever I give it to you. Am I making myself clear?”

  Ciera could hear a distant screaming inside her head. He was making himself all too clear. He wanted her to destroy everything she had fought for, everything she had become, and voluntarily return to the life of hell she had fought so hard to get away from. To tear down the person she was now and embrace the horrible, broken person she had once been.