by Sable Grace
He blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. The weight lifted from his chest and he found himself smiling.
Kyana.
She was standing where she’d fallen, wind whipping her hair about her face. The goddess aura lit her eyes, spilling forward to make her skin glow as she hovered an inch off the sand. Artemis’s powers were filling her, and Ryker swore he saw a black fog waft away from her body, the remnants of the Half-Breed she’d been for the last two hundred years leaving her forever.
The golden aura continued to pulse until her body could no longer contain it and it seeped outward to surround her. His mesmerized paralysis broke as a loud, eerie howl shattered the calm. As one, Vampyre charged toward them again.
Kyana moved so quickly, she appeared to float even higher above the sand. Shocked, he couldn’t take his gaze off her. He’d never seen anyone move so fast.
She stopped in front of him and raised her hands heavenward. She gripped Zeus’s staff—his staff—in both hands, and thrust it skyward. The storm intensified. Lightning crackled so fast and so loud, he couldn’t tell when one bolt ended and another began. The hum of electricity caused the hair on his arms to stand on end. The wind and rain pummeled him, and still he couldn’t take his eyes off Kyana.
The glow around her swelled, pulsing from the tip of the conduit she wielded like a pro. Her lips moved, but her words were lost in the wind. She opened her eyes and held the staff in front of her. Lightning flashed from the jeweled tip, nearly blinding him. The pulsing energy changed to bright white light, and it was then that Ryker understood.
It wasn’t light she was summoning. It was the sun.
Cursing, Ryker pivoted and ran like mad toward Haven, fighting every aching organ in his body to grab her by the arm and take her safely away.
“No!” Haven screamed. “Don’t leave her!”
“If those rays touch you, you’re dead!” He shoved her toward Ares, who had returned to making his circle, then once more faced the beach.
The rays of sunlight lit up the area around them like a golden bubble, just inches from turning Haven into fireplace debris. The staff shook violently in Kyana’s hands, but she held tight, turning slowly, aiming the deadly rays at the circling enemy.
As Ryker ran for her, hundreds of Dark Breeds burst, combusted, died. Ashes fell atop the sand like a gray blanket. Not a single body part was left behind. The filth filled his nostrils, clogged his throat, coated his hair and skin as he ran. The pain easing, the need to get to Kyana, to make sure she was safe, was all he cared about.
The Vampyre that were still able fled back into the jungle, removing the last bits of constriction in Ryker’s chest. He stumbled when the weight of their evil left him, crashing into the sand and rolling back to his feet.
Standing again, he found Kyana an inch away, a smile making her face glow more radiantly than the sun she’d created as she lowered the conduit and thrust it toward him.
“I believe this belongs to you.”
He took it from her, wincing as the heat from the staff made his skin sizzle. He might carry Zeus’s blood, but because his transformation wasn’t yet complete, he couldn’t wield it as Kyana had. He tucked it under his arm, letting his shirt provide a barrier and leaving his hands free to support her as she leaned heavily against him. All her strength, all her power had been expended in her one show of glory. Heat was radiating off her body like steam.
He had no idea what to say. He was stupefied, in awe, totally impressed, and couldn’t find one single word to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a moron.
“Can we get off this damned beach now?” she asked. “ ’Cause I don’t think I can do that again.”
Smiling, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulled her to him, and kissed her. It was neither the time nor the place, but damn it, he’d come so close to losing her. Thought, in fact, that he had. Who the hell cared if Ares was watching? She was alive and felt so good pressed against him that he didn’t want to ever let her go.
Reluctantly, he let her slide away, let logic back into his own mind and led them back to where Ares stood on the shore. Kyana hadn’t destroyed all the Vampyre here. Once the magically conjured sunlight disappeared again, they would return, hungrier than before.
“Get us home, Ares,” he said, stepping back so Kyana could stand within reach of the god for the port home.
She stepped forward and held out the other Eyes of Power to Ares.
He shook his head and stepped backward. “Goddess. I can’t think of anyone better charged with taking these home safely than you.”
Chapter Forty-One
Kyana studied the group around her, her body feeling foreign and tingly and all wrong. What she’d just done had astounded her, and yet she certainly didn’t feel as though she deserved the looks of awe directed at her now.
She’d nearly died back there, and when her hands had reached for Zeus’s staff, they hadn’t felt like her own. It hadn’t been her mind conjuring ancient words she’d somehow understood. It had been Artemis. The goddess’s powers belonged to Kyana now, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. It was like waking up and finding you’d stepped into your mother’s skin, her life. Familiar, yet so damned wrong.
“Stop staring at me,” she muttered. Ryker and Haven quickly returned their attention to Ares and his porting circle.
She wanted off this island more than she wanted air, but she had to tell them . . . had to confess that their pride in her was misplaced. She’d failed. Haven was safe, true, but Cronos had risen. Somewhere on this island, the most evil and powerful of all gods was being reborn.
She wrapped Hades’s amulet around her neck and tucked the trident under her arm. Wherever Cronos was, he had his ring back, and there was nothing she could do about that now. The damage had been done.
“He . . . disappeared with the ring.”
Ares froze, his circle forgotten. “He has risen?”
“I raised him. I didn’t want to . . .” Haven whispered. “As long as he has that ring, he cannot be stopped.”
Ares looked as though he wanted to drown Haven.
Kyana might have too, if she hadn’t seen for herself how horribly Cronos had already made her suffer.
She couldn’t think about this anymore. Couldn’t strategize or contemplate. All she wanted to do was sleep and breathe and figure out how to be who she’d become and mourn the person she no longer was.
“Please,” she whispered to Ares. “Get us off this island.”
Ryker took her hand and they waited for Ares to finish creating his port. She felt him stroke the backs of her fingers and closed her eyes. His touch was so comforting and warm that it was hard to remember she was freezing all the way to her marrow.
“Cronos can’t get off the island without a port, Ky. Remember? Risen or not, he couldn’t escape it then, and he can’t escape it now. Our main priority is returning the amulet and the trident to their rightful owners. Once Geoff, Silas, and I can tend our duties as we’re meant to, the human world can begin real reconstruction.”
Ares gave them a look that told them the time for talking was over. Now, he’d need silence to finish the port, and soon, they’d be back in St. Augustine, away from this hellhole, and they’d have to explain everything that had gone wrong here today.
“You okay?” Ryker whispered in her ear.
“Hush. You’ll make him steer us off course.”
He smiled and squeezed her waist. Together, they each stepped inside the circle and placed their hands on Ares’s shoulders just seconds before the vortex opened and sucked them in.
The blindness that kept her eyeballs from bursting from their sockets was different this time. Colors so bright she could make out the reds and blues and greens rushing past her even though she couldn’t open her eyes. They seemed to be trying to pull her hand away from Ares. Only Ryker’s fingers tightly laced with hers kept her from panicking and giving in to the hypnotic pull. Yank yank, pull p
ull. She’d never felt this resistance before.
The flashes of light slowed and they fell down, down, down. Cold water washed over her, dragging her under and stealing her breath. Someone grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her back to the surface.
“Libero.”
Kyana blinked against the salt burning her eyes as she took in their landing strip with exhausted exasperation. She turned to glare to Ryker. “I knew you were going to send Ares off course! We’re in the middle of the damned ocean.”
“We’re not in the middle,” Ares said, spitting out a mouthful of seawater. He pointed behind Kyana. “Lighthouse is a couple dozen yards that way.”
He wasn’t about to get off that easy. “Ryker never dropped us in the middle of the ocean.”
By the time they climbed the slippery rocks of the jetty, Kyana had almost forgotten about the odd sensation of the lights trying to pull her out of the vortex. She shivered against the wind and looked out over the vastness of the sea. Something felt out of place, but though her eyes had no trouble penetrating the darkness, she couldn’t detect anything that might explain away the odd sensations.
“You all right?”
Chalking it up to her emotions being stuck in overdrive, she nodded. “Yep. Wet, tired, and cold. Just peachy.”
She refused to allow the weight of what was to come settle around her shoulders. There’d be time to worry about that later.
She turned to Ares who was gripping Haven’s arm tightly enough that bruises were already forming on her pale skin. Her gaze slowly met Haven’s, and she felt a wash of gratitude that they’d both made it out alive. Scarred, for sure—no one could endure all that Haven had and not be touched brutally. But she was alive. Deep down, Kyana hadn’t been sure that outcome would have been possible.
“Haven—” she started.
“Kyana.” Haven made no apology for her interruption. “No more games. I won’t fight against the punishment I deserve, don’t worry.”
Her face was ashen, and Kyana wished she knew how to comfort her. Despite that it had been Cronos holding the reins on Haven, she’d still be forced to stand trial. The Order couldn’t be certain when the possession had first occurred, and there were dead Mystics who deserved justice. If Haven had killed them of her own accord, she would be punished. Severely. There was nothing Kyana could do to prevent that.
She looked at Ares. “Take her. Gently.” To Haven, she added, “We’ll speak once I’ve talked to the Ancients. They need to know all that happened here today. That Cronos . . . is alive.”
When Ares led Haven away, Ryker pulled Kyana into his arms. “What about me? What can I do for you?”
She smiled against his chest, though what she really wanted to do was weep. “You’re finally going to get to give me that piggyback ride.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Kyana stood on the grounds of Artemis’s temple, her temple now, and studied the crowd that had begun to gather just minutes after their return. She hadn’t had time to eat, sleep, or even think, and already the Order of Ancients was demanding that their new Goddess of the Hunt tell them of the past few days’ events.
Artie stood on her left, Ryker on her right. Occasionally, his fingers brushed her hand in a not-so-casual gesture. He’d refused to leave her side for even a minute. He wanted to discuss the things that had happened on the island, the things that would happen to Haven now that they’d brought her home, but Kyana had refused. She wasn’t ready. She had a duty to see to, and she intended to train like hell until she was capable of seeing it through.
She had, however, been given one moment of brilliance—a loophole much like the one that had gotten Ryker out of becoming Ares’s Chosen. The Order had declared Haven would be tried after her final cleansing . . . but they hadn’t said when the cleansing had to occur.
If she could offer her friend nothing else, maybe, at least, she could offer Haven time.
She owed Haven that much.
Since their return less than an hour ago, they had talked at great length about Cronos. Kyana had hoped that the possession would give Haven an insight on where he’d go, what he intended to do first now that he’d been returned to a corporeal state.
Haven couldn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. He wanted revenge. He wanted his sons to suffer and die. He wanted to get off that island and resume what he considered his rightful place on Zeus’s throne.
And he’d use anyone, destroy everything, to see those things happen.
Mostly, however, Haven had talked about her twin sister, Hope. How her sister’s spirit had never left her since the possessions began. That Hope had forced her to hold on to the tattered shreds of her humanity. It had nearly broken Kyana’s heart to hear Haven cry over losing her sister for the second time. Especially now that Kyana knew what it felt like to lose someone she considered a sister herself.
But never in all their talk had they approached the topic of what was to become of their friendship. No, it hadn’t been Haven who’d done all those horrible things. But Kyana had hunted her, and they’d tried to kill each other. It was a little difficult to simply hug out the tension that had come between them.
It was Kyana’s greatest hope that one day . . . hopefully soon . . . they might become sisters again. But first, there was healing to be done. On both sides.
“It’s your duty as the new Goddess of the Hunt to release your prisoner to the guard.” Artemis’s whispered words pulled Kyana from her thoughts.
Her gaze fell once again on Haven, who knelt before them on the temple lawn, awaiting news of her sentencing. Ryker’s fingers drew a tiny circle at the small of Kyana’s back. She leaned into him for half a second before gathering her resolve and taking a step forward.
“You will go willingly and quietly with the guard and will remain imprisoned until you’re tried for the murder of the Healers in charge of your care at the time of your Turning,” she said, every word an effort as she tried to sound as authoritative and sure of herself as Artemis might have. “The Order has agreed that you will not be held accountable for the offenses that took place after Cronos’s possession of you.”
Haven held Kyana’s gaze. There was no malice, no anger in her eyes. Just understanding and acceptance. “Yes, Goddess. It’s more mercy than I dese—”
“A trial will be scheduled for the day following your purging and cleansing to contain the beast that now lives within you. The beast . . . I created in you.” She prayed Haven could read the apology in her eyes. She couldn’t show such weakness now, in front of the Order, but hopefully Haven knew her well enough to hear the regret in her words when no one else would be able to detect it.
“Yes, Goddess,” Haven said.
“But as the goddess charged with your apprehension,” Kyana continued, “it is my will that you be given adequate time between the purging and the cleansing. You’ve been through an ordeal, and it’s too risky to cast so much magic on you at once.”
She had no idea if that was even true, but when no one called her out for it, she pressed on. “You’ll be purged immediately so that whatever fresh blood you’ve consumed over the last few days is completely removed from your body. It will help tame the beasts so that the cleansing will be easier to bear.”
The cleansing would be brutally painful if it was anything like Kyana’s had been. It was the equivalent of rehab. While the purging rid the body of blood already ingested, the cleansing was a slow, torturous process that would eventually soothe the need to feed at all. The urges to kill and to prey on the weak would eventually slip away until they were nothing more than horrible memories.
“You will be given a month’s respite before the cleansing begins.”
The collective gasps from the spectators rolled over the mountain like an avalanche. The purging would take a few days; however, the cleansing could take weeks or months depending on how quickly Haven mastered the ability to control the breeds inside her. Add to that the month Kyana had just given between the
two events, and that should leave plenty of time for a miracle to happen and for Haven to find some way to redeem herself within the eyes of the Order of Ancients.
“You can’t be serious.”
The voice came from the foot of the temple steps and Kyana craned her neck to peer over the crowd to find its owner. Athena glared up at her, her dark eyes flashing with menace.
“You have something you wish to say, Athena?”
“Yes.” She stepped forward. “I do. You give this creature leniency because she was your friend. I know you’re new at this, Kyana, but we do not play favorites within the Order. Rules are rules—”
Kyana held up her hand to shut the goddess up. “And this was my hunt. Not yours. Not Zeus’s. Mine. Is it not my right to determine the days and times of the trials I’m to hold, just as it would have been Artemis’s were this her criminal?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then I have only done what was within my rights to do. There will be no favoritism at the time of her trial. I merely determined when the trial would be.” She lowered her voice and hardened her stare. “Now back the hell off.”
Athena jerked her head as though she’d been slapped, and Kyana was pretty sure she’d just made her first real enemy on Olympus now that Ares no longer despised her.
“Very well,” Athena muttered. “As I’m to sit in on her trial, I’ll make certain you keep to your word and she is justly punished.”
“You do that. In the meantime, go home.” Kyana raised her arms toward the crowd. “All of you. Go home.”
Two members of Ares’s Elite Guard stepped forward and seized Haven by the arm. Ares stepped in front of them and they dropped their hands, relinquishing Haven to him.
“I shall see to it that your wishes are carried out personally.” He bowed, then took Haven’s arm lightly in his hand. He turned, and with several members of his Elite Guard following discreetly in his wake, left to take Haven to her new home.