by Sable Grace
Thanks to the open slaughter area, there weren’t many hiding places on this level. Only pride kept Kyana from moaning or cursing out loud as the debris cut into her bare feet. By the time they’d cleared the second floor, finding nothing more than what were most likely Haven’s father’s meager belongings and empty booze bottles, she was beginning to wonder if anything they might find was worth the pain of retrieving it.
The stairway was blocked by a large door with a sign declaring EMPLOYEES ONLY.
Slowly, she eased open the door. The stench nearly knocked her backward. Ryker caught her around the waist and hissed. Silas cursed. Weren’t they a sorry bunch? They made enough noise that deaf humans could’ve heard them coming from a mile away.
“I’m not sure I want to know what was living in there.” Silas’s voice was muffled. He’d pulled the neck of his T-shirt over his nose. “At this point, I don’t even want to fight it. Just tell me it’s gone and we can get out of here.”
“It’s not gone,” Ryker and Kyana said together.
Proof lay in the violent whispers of an all-too-familiar voice. Haven. She was arguing with herself, frantically gesturing at the brick wall in front of her.
Kyana drew her daggers and looked at Silas, who held his long, lethal-looking blade in his fist, then to Ryker, who simply stared at her. “When are you going to learn that it’s important to pack a weapon?”
His lips curved in a slight smile. “About the time you learn I don’t need one.”
She rolled her eyes. Okay, so she’d seen him take on an army solo, but it would have made her feel better knowing he was armed with something.
She pulled a spare blade from her belt and forced it into his hand before slipping through the partially opened door. Haven turned as though she were ankle-deep in syrup. Slow, smooth. As her gaze fell on Kyana, her eyes narrowed to black slits that looked capable of shooting venom.
“Mm mm mm . . .” The noise originated low in Haven’s throat, releasing in a rumble of mockery rather than a threatening taunt. “That nose of yours. I have to admit, I was hoping it wouldn’t be so sharp since you stole my destiny.”
She smiled, flashing a glimpse of bloodied teeth. “Tell me, Kyana. How does it feel to be a goddess? To know you are now becoming what by all rights should have been mine?”
The accusation stung, but Kyana wasn’t taking the bait. “You would have been dead if I hadn’t turned you. Hard to become a goddess when you’re six feet under.”
Behind her, she could feel Silas and Ryker edging closer. She stepped sideways to block their path. Her own instinct to lunge immediately was making her toes tingle, but she kept her feet firmly to the floor and stood as still as possible while Haven scrutinized her.
Haven certainly wasn’t herself at the moment, but neither did she have that gleam of craziness in her eyes. If she could talk coherently, maybe they could find out what Cronos was planning.
“My hair,” Haven said, shaking her head. “My powers. My fucking destiny.” Spit flung from her mouth as her fangs tore into her bottom lip. She still wasn’t used to them, unskilled in keeping her mouth safe from their deadliness. The blood oozed from the center of her lip and she licked it clean. “You stole it all.”
Kyana’s fingers were wrapped around the hilt of her dagger so tightly, her knuckles throbbed. “Fine. Come with me, Haven. I’ll tell Artemis I don’t want it. We’ll convince her to give it all to you. It’s not too late . . . yet. But if you keep at this, if you keep listening to Cronos, I won’t be able to save you.”
Haven’s laughter contained a sadness that didn’t live up to the blackness glimmering in her eyes.
“I can help you, Haven. You don’t have to listen to him anymore.”
“Help me? There’s no me to help anymore!” Haven backed away, her lip curling with disgust. “You think I care that you’re the new Goddess of the Hunt? That will be puny in comparison to what he is. What he’ll be. When I’m finished, whatever fancy skills Artemis is teaching you will look like nothing more than a useless fly swatter. So many holes for me to fly through, Kyana. So many ways around what you’ve become. You have nothing to offer me. Nothing!”
Kyana winced, forcing herself to cling to the tiny trace of fear lacing Haven’s words. She refused to believe Haven meant everything she said. She was a fighter. There was no way in hell she was going to let Cronos win without resistance. He was in her now, Kyana was sure of it. The blackness in Haven’s eyes didn’t belong to her any more than the deep, husky voice did.
“Just come with us. We can fight this. Together. Me, you, and Geoffrey.”
Her head jerked as though she’d been slapped. “Geoff?”
She grabbed hold of the hope in Haven’s voice and nodded. “He misses you. And he’s worried about you. He wants you to come home.”
A glazed sheen fell over Haven’s dark eyes as she stepped away. “Fuck you.”
Kyana took a step forward, unwilling to allow Haven even an inch of retreat.
“You’re our family. We’ll always love you.” She took another step closer. “Just come back with me. Let us take care of you.”
She reached for Haven’s arm, and just as her fingers were about to close over her wrist, she jerked out of Kyana’s grasp.
Haven convulsed, her head jerking wildly from side to side until an eerie calm settled around her and the eyes staring back at Kyana once again belonged to a stranger. “You had your chance. You refused. She’s mine now.”
Kyana lunged for Haven. As her hand circled Haven’s wrist, a flurry of dust kicked up and slowly grew near the window. Ryker and Silas were at Kyana’s side and together they watched the dust storm, their breaths puffing white as the temperature dropped enough to form ice crystals on the ceiling. Haven didn’t so much as wiggle to break free.
Instead, her hair blew behind her and her eyes flashed with menace. “What you’ve started can’t be stopped.”
Kyana could have sworn she saw a flicker of fear pop from somewhere in those black depths that had once been Haven’s eyes. Cronos was working her like a puppet.
She intended to make sure his bones were turned into dust and his sorry ass was scattered to the four corners of the Earth.
“Leave her alone.”
The pink tongue that flicked out to dampen Haven’s lips looked eerily human in such a demonic face. “My new friend here is very powerful, or she soon will be. Scatter my bones if you like. She will raise me, regardless.”
He was in Kyana’s head, hearing her thoughts. She concentrated so hard on not thinking, her eyes began to burn.
“I trust you’ll let my sons know that their time is short.”
Haven spun in a dizzying speed that forced Kyana to release her. Something gold appeared in her hand, and Kyana heard herself gasp when the dust swirl revealed the trident. But before she could reach for it, Haven pulled a small pouch from the pocket of her dirty jeans and threw a handful of greenish powder at her feet.
“Grab her!” Silas shot around Kyana, throwing himself at Haven.
“Devito!” Haven screamed. A white light engulfed every inch of the foul-smelling room. When Kyana could see again, Silas lay in a heap on the floor and Haven was gone.
And so was the trident.
Kyana ran to the window, looking out into the darkness. Haven was nowhere to be seen. Her scent, the stench of Cronos, and the smell of death that had filled the factory only seconds ago were gone. She’d simply vanished.
“Sonofabitch!” Kyana spun on Silas. “What was that?”
Rubbing his shoulder, he struggled to his feet. “It’s a powerful, ancient spell. I’ve read up on it, but have never seen anyone actually attempt it.”
The awe in his voice didn’t ease her frustration. “You can be impressed later. Right now, I just want to know what it was so I can figure out how to keep her from doing it again.”
“The spell allows her to maneuver her way out of sticky situations.”
“Like astral projectio
n?” She’d tried that once. Wasn’t fun.
“Not exactly. It’s like suspended animation. Or maybe the slowing of time would be a better explanation.” Silas wiped his hands on his jeans. “Either way, she’s casting the spell that binds us and allows her the freedom to slip away. It covers her scent. Leaves no markers. It’s damned hard to track and even harder to prevent.”
So that was how she’d been evading Kyana’s tracking skills. She was exhausted, and being outsmarted by a dead god wasn’t exactly rejuvenating. She sighed and grudgingly followed as Ryker and Silas led the way out of the factory.
“I need food. And ambrosia. I’m running on empty but we don’t have time for more than a quick snack. I won’t lose her this time.”
She saw Ryker nod from the corner of her eye, but kept her focus on Silas. “Can you create a counter spell so she can’t leave me in the dust like this again?”
“Doubt it, but I’ll start working on it the minute we return Below.”
“The trident’s gone,” she said, “and we’ve seen for ourselves that Cronos is able to take over Haven’s body. Guess we know now how she’s able to touch the Eyes of Power without dying.”
“Yeah,” Ryker said. “Because she’s not technically touching it. He is.”
Yes. Cronos was living and breathing inside her best friend, and she was beginning to fear that the only way to get him out was to wreck the vehicle he was driving. If she couldn’t get through to Haven soon, Kyana was going to have no choice but to kill her.
Chapter Eleven
When they finally stumbled their way out of the meatpacking plant, the sky had lit up with oranges and pinks, offering Kyana only her third experience with a real sunrise in two hundred years. She’d seen the black and white version while in Lychen form and she’d seen sunrises Below, where the sun wasn’t actually real, but neither was comparable to seeing the beauty of an authentic sunrise.
Unlike the previous two mornings, however, this time, she could drink it all in while Ryker shared the last of his ambrosia and bread with her. She sat on the edge of Haven’s father’s cracked, grease-stained driveway, waiting for Silas to return with a car that would get them back to St. Augustine. They couldn’t wait the hours it would take for Ryker’s port to be usable again.
She closed her eyes and reluctantly reopened them to finally look at him.
“Tell me that I won’t be knocked out of commission every time I face a fight,” she said.
“When you learn to balance the ambrosia it’ll get less debilitating. Remember, your transformation isn’t complete. You’re only half you and half what you’ll become.”
She didn’t want to think about being only half as good as she was used to being. She was facing enough of a challenge as it was. A cloud rolled over the bright sun, casting shadows over the trailer park before the sun popped out once again and coated her skin like a fleece blanket. She wished she could sit here and do nothing but drink in the day, but sadly for her, the agenda wasn’t going to be that pleasant.
Haven’s father tripped his way down the trailer’s steps, stinking up the moment with B.O. and stale cigarettes. She glared over her shoulder at him, pissed that, not only was he ruining her sunrise, but that she’d also been talked into returning to pick him up in the first place.
Ryker and Silas had insisted that it would go against the Order of Ancients if they left the man to die. They’d sent for help for the people huddled in the malls; it was only fair to help Haven’s bastard daddy as well.
As he made his way toward them, she squinted, scrutinizing his face for some resemblance to Haven. She found it buried beneath thick gray eyebrows that covered the familiar blue eyes staring back at her with apprehension. This man had fathered her best friend, had given Haven to the world, and yet even that acknowledgment didn’t soften her toward him.
As far as she was concerned, there wasn’t a Dark Breed ever created that could equal the evil of an abusive parent.
Pushing herself to her feet, she finished chewing the last bite of her bread and looked to Ryker, who was leaning on the lamppost beside her. “You know what pisses me off the most? I know what it means to be a monster. I don’t want to believe I’ve given that fate to my best friend.”
“She’s only a monster when you’ve given up and left her to whatever fate Cronos is trying to hand her.”
Kyana tried to read him, but his face was a blank page. She knew he didn’t think Haven was worth her time, but something in his voice told her he wanted to think she might be. That because Kyana believed it, maybe he’d try as well.
“I could try to link with her again,” she heard herself say, though it was the last thing she wanted to do. So far, each time she’d reached out to Haven, what she’d seen had grown darker and more frightening.
Ryker gave a faint smile and turned his attention back to the road, probably wishing Silas would hurry the hell up so they could be on their way. “We have a long drive. A nap might not be a bad idea. If you sleep, maybe you can reach her.”
Nodding, she looked around at the mobile home and tried to envision her friend growing up here. It was hard. Haven was so bright and bubbly, so sunny. How did someone grow up in this environment and turn out so damned happy and eager to help people?
The same way someone born of privilege ends up cynical and bitter like I did.
Kyana knew better than anyone that one’s material environment meant nothing. She’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Wanted for nothing as the daughter of a very wealthy businessman. She’d married a prince, lived in a palace, and yet the royalty and nobility that had surrounded her had been no better than the scum Haven had been brought up with.
The only difference was, Kyana had cleaned up her blood with silk and Haven had dabbed hers with toilet paper.
“You’re shivering,” Ryker said, pulling Kyana from her funk. “It’s like eighty degrees and you have warm blood now, so what’s making you shiver?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Family.”
The sigh she released was filled with weariness as she shut her eyes against the sun. “It takes strength to care, I think. Haven was way stronger than I ever was.”
“Just because you care about different things doesn’t make you weak, Ky.”
She felt him watching her, but she refused to look up at him. “What if she is stronger than me, in every way that counts?”
“She’s not Haven right now, which means all those attributes you’re envying don’t exist. You have the advantage.”
Kyana dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. “And how’s that?”
“This time, you’re the one who cares.”
His faith in her was generous, and it gave her the courage to meet his gaze. “So love conquers all, huh?”
“In this case, yeah, I think it might.” He stepped toward her but stopped when a small red car spun into the tiny driveway, braking a mere foot away from them. Silas was back. It was time to hit the road. Time to admit she didn’t have the first clue where to go from here.
She tossed a glare at Haven’s dad. “What’s your name, anyway?”
He blinked. “K-K-Kevin.”
“Well, K-K-Kevin, if you have anything you want to bring, grab it now. Unless you want to be stranded alone when your daughter decides to come back and finish what we interrupted, you’re coming with us.”
His throat rose and fell in a deep swallow before he turned and stumbled into his home.
“We give him five minutes,” she muttered. “Then we leave him to whatever fate he deserves.”
She waited six. Then, with an irritated huff, she snatched up her baggy jeans, hoisting them so she wouldn’t make an ass of herself by tripping, and went in after him while Ryker and Silas fussed with the car’s radio.
She heard Kevin rustling around his bedroom and waited by the door, half tempted to stomp in there and drag him out by the scruff of his neck. That would require physical c
ontact, however, and she’d already met her quota of filth today.
While she waited, her gaze skimmed the dusty shelves behind the television, the yellowed family portraits lining the walls. This was all a tiny piece of Haven. Her childhood. Her past. This was where she’d come from, and it was absolutely amazing that she’d managed to become such a phenomenal woman despite it. Even evil, Haven was a force to be reckoned with.
Kyana traced her fingers over the grimy pane of glass covering a collage of snapshots hanging above the kitchen bar. Her fingertips came away black, and as she brushed her hand on her flannel shirt, her gaze froze on a photo of identical twins, grinning ear to ear.
She felt as though she should have been able to tell which child was Haven, but the girls were so alike, Kyana couldn’t make out a single attribute that was distinctive to one but not the other. She squinted, leaning in closer. Still nothing.
They even wore matching bruises over their left eyes.
Bastard.
The girls wore pink dresses and stood in front of a road sign. She tried to make out the grainy words, and when they finally became clear, she chuckled.
CAUTION: SPIRITS CROSSING
It looked exactly like a deer crossing sign, but clearly had to be a joke. Behind the twins, a bright pink building looked like it had been painted with Pepto-Bismol. The sign on the lawn read:
AURA READINGS $10.00
TAROT READINGS $25.00
PAST LIFE REGRESSION—PLEASE INQUIRE
“I know this place,” she muttered aloud. But for the life of her, she couldn’t place it.
“Cassadaga.” Kevin’s voice boomed behind her. “It’s a spiritual camp down South.”
Kyana made the connection in her head. “Where the psychics go to retire.”
Haven had made Kyana go there with her once at the beginning of their friendship.
She swallowed. If Haven was scared, if she felt at all inadequate in what Cronos was making her do, she’d have her nose in a book committing new spells to memory. And if there were any rare spells, charms, or potions to be learned, she’d likely find them in a place like Cassadaga.