Heavy Metal (A Goddesses Rising Novel) (Entangled Select)

by Natalie J. Damschroder

  Riley wondered if Quinn would tell her sister what he’d said, and if that would make her feel better, or worse.

  Nick leaned on the chair again, pressing harder until Anson yelped. “When did you hook up with Numina?”

  “I don’t know exactly. They must have tapped into my research somehow. They never told me how I came on their radar.”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Guys like that come to your door, offer you a job like this, for that kind of money—you don’t ask a lot of questions.”

  “Guys like what?” Nick demanded.

  Anson looked as delighted as someone with a broken nose and blood all over his face could look. “Seriously, you don’t know who Numina is?”

  “We know,” Sam fibbed. “Who are you working with specifically?”

  He shifted on his chair and pretended Sam hadn’t said anything, addressing his answers toward Quinn and Riley, as if he was gifting them with a history lesson. “Numina’s core leadership is made up of guys like William Yates, Benjamin Odrama, Darren Breffet.”

  Somehow, Riley wasn’t surprised that he’d just named the world’s biggest computer magnate, a former U.S. president, and the most respected investment guru in history. How many more of the world’s leaders were part of that legacy?

  “Gods,” Nick said, half scoffing.

  Anson sneered back. “Yeah. Descended just like the goddesses. Only instead of having physical powers, they got power based off influence.”

  “Influence,” Sam repeated.

  Anson gestured. “You know how people say a guy has charisma? Seems charmed, no matter what he does. Everything he touches turns to gold. All those clichés? Influence.”

  Riley wondered if he even saw the irony in his dismissal, calling the traits clichés. He obviously recognized his own charisma and used it whenever possible. Even when it didn’t work.

  “I assume their use of it isn’t all the same,” Sam said. “Goddess abilities vary, as does the amount of power they have.”

  Riley thought about John’s reference to splintering and said, “The men you named wouldn’t have a need to go after the power of goddesses. They have a high level of respect and success they wouldn’t want to risk.”

  Anson winked at her and gave a little nod.

  “How many Numina are there?” Nick asked.

  Anson shrugged. “No idea. My best guess is about as many as there are goddesses.”

  “Imagine that…men having the more subtle skills,” Riley snarked.

  Anson ignored that, too. “Numina is a secret organization, even from within. You’re a member from birth, and all male descendants are included, no matter how much influence they have, but only certain ones are part of the inner circle. So there’s a wide range of success. And as you can imagine, some abuse it, get greedy, and fall off their peaks.”

  “People like Broginvicci, Danner, Lilling.” Sam named some of the biggest recent falls from grace, CEOs and politicians who fit Anson’s description.

  Riley gasped in recognition. Anson nodded at her. “Exactly. One of those guys was in my office a couple of days ago. They all want their power back, and influence isn’t doing it fast enough. So they came up with a bigger plan.”

  The pieces were coming together now. Sam relaxed his threatening stance and paced at Anson’s side. “They found out you planned to leech goddesses—”

  “A goddess,” Anson interrupted, one finger in the air. His self-righteousness was so ridiculous, Quinn laughed. “I only intended to leech one goddess. They came to me and offered me everything I’d ever wanted if I leeched more and used the power to help them get theirs back.”

  Sam didn’t buy it. “They couldn’t offer you everything you’d ever wanted. You wanted to be a goddess.”

  Anson made an annoyed face. “Yeah, well, their offer was still hard to turn down. I promised I’d work for them, and once Marley did the initial bestowment, it wasn’t hard to go after the others.”

  “Because you were addicted.” Riley was sure she was the only one who heard the crack Sam barely kept out of his voice, the statement driven by his own fears.

  Anson nodded but didn’t look chagrined or rueful.

  “I would have been unstoppable.” He gazed into the distance, as if considering what could have been. “If I’d leeched Quinn—”

  “Except she stopped you.” Nick’s hard tone stripped Anson’s wistfulness off his face. “So, then what? Numina didn’t cast you off?”

  “I don’t work for Numina. These guys are members, but they’re working outside the organization.” He winced. “And no, they weren’t too happy. You notice they didn’t keep me out of jail. Too risky. They didn’t want a traceable connection to me.”

  His tone gave Riley an inkling of why Anson had suddenly become so cooperative. Maybe he wasn’t thrilled with his treatment at his employers’ hands and was looking to change sides? She glanced at Sam, who didn’t seem to be thinking along the same lines. In fact, he looked suspicious, and that made Riley wonder if Anson was talking as a stall tactic. But for what? She tuned out for a second to check for prickles but still only sensed the people in the room.

  “They came up with this other plan when they found out that I could track—” Anson broke off, his eyes widening and his face going red. He glanced at Riley out of the corner of his eye but kept his face forward.

  Her mind raced. The Numina had found out that Anson could track…goddesses. It had to be goddesses. Quinn had said he could sense them with the residue from his leechings.

  Suddenly she knew how Vern and Sharla and all the other shadow stalkers kept finding her, even when she traveled with no plan, no destination in mind. How they’d followed her on the way up here when the only people who knew where she was were people they should have been able to trust.

  “How?” She stepped forward and raised a candlestick over his head. “How do you track goddesses? How did you track me?” Sam came around the back of the chair and nudged Riley out of Anson’s reach. But just let the bastard try to get a jump on her. So far tonight, all she’d felt for Anson was disgust and pity. But now fury lit, fueled by all those months of confusion and anxiety.

  Anson’s smile was smug this time. “Once I tag a goddess, I always know where she is.”

  “Why me?” It didn’t make any sense for Anson to have “tagged” her, even if their grandmothers were friends. “I didn’t even know I was a goddess. What did you think you could get from me when I shouldn’t have had any power?”

  Sam tugged her back again. She hadn’t even realized she’d stepped nearer. She really wanted to brain Anson.

  But this time Sam spoke, his voice hard, his arm tight around Riley’s shoulders. “Think about it. He’s patient. Look how long his first plan took. He knew you weren’t part of the Society, that you didn’t know goddesses, because of his grandmother’s journals. He probably had you in reserve from day one. If you didn’t know anything about yourself, he could teach you. You’d be grateful.”

  Anson’s expression had darkened while Sam spoke, losing any hint of charm, but he was smart. He must know that arguing would have made Sam’s assessment sound more true, so he just glared at them all, mouth pressed tight and hands clenched on his thighs.

  “He was hedging his bets. If you didn’t come into your power when you turned twenty-one, there was no loss for him. But if you did, and if things didn’t work out the way he planned with Marley and the others—which it didn’t—you were his backup. You wouldn’t know anything about him. Unlike all the other goddesses, you weren’t warned about him.”

  Pain stabbed through Riley, a shockingly intense stab of loss and nausea. “Did you…did you kill my family?”

  Anson had the grace to look appalled. “No! I would never do something like that. It was a horrible accident.”

  That he’d capitalized on. She pressed a hand to her burning stomach.

  “What were you going to do with her?” Sam sounded as
sick as she felt. “Leech her?”

  “No. I don’t think I can do that anymore.” He sounded sad. “Quinn broke me.” He tipped an imaginary hat in her direction. She didn’t move.

  “Good,” Nick barked. Anson ignored him.

  “I wanted her to be mine. To care about me the way Marley did. I underestimated that kind of power,” he admitted, and Riley caught a glimpse behind all his pretense, to the lonely boy underneath.

  In any other circumstances, she might have felt sorry for him.

  “What’s their plan now?” Quinn asked in such a soft voice Riley spun toward her, alarmed. She was sagging against the wall now, but her gaze was steady on Anson. “It sounds like they’re moving on from you.”

  Anson didn’t like that. He straightened in the chair and yanked his foot out from under the leg of Nick’s, which he’d eased up on just enough. “The Numina losers wanted me to identify goddesses so they could send recruiters to them. They’d feel them out for weaknesses or ambition. See who might be willing or susceptible to working for them.”

  “Leeching them?” Riley asked, though they didn’t meet the criteria. Maybe their heritage made it possible for them, just like sons of goddesses.

  But Anson shook his head. “Just employees with really unique skills. They want to set up a network and use the goddesses to help them get back on top.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Nick hauled Anson up by the collar and dragged him toward the garage door. “We thank you for your cooperation. Sam, call the security team in. They can decide what to—”

  The prickles burst into Riley’s brain, and she gasped. “Nick, no!” Too late. Before she could tell him someone was out there, he twisted the handle on the garage door. It slammed inward, knocking both Nick and Anson back, and three men barreled in. Nick recovered immediately, tossing Anson at the first guy and kicking the door into the face of the third. The second guy made it inside and swung a fist at Nick’s head. He missed, and Nick didn’t hesitate to fight back.

  Riley caught Quinn and pulled her away from the fight, into the living room. Sam put himself in front of them, but then the front door blasted open, too, splinters flying, the alarm blaring into life. Bodies seemed to pour in from every direction, though Riley flash-counted only half a dozen. Still, too many. Nick had his guy down, but the first one was on his back, struggling to pull Nick’s arms behind him and yank him upright and vulnerable. Sam moved forward to meet the second bunch, looking like an action movie hero as his fists connected with heads and guts, but there were too many.

  Riley squeezed her candlestick and drew harder than she ever had, shoving two attackers off Sam in quick succession but not doing enough damage to keep them down. She watched Quinn for a second. The woman was weak and didn’t go for blunt force like Riley had. She pulled a rug and sent two guys tumbling to the ground, then dropped crystal vases and knick-knacks off a shelf onto their heads.

  Sam landed a fist deep in someone’s abdomen, not just doubling him over but sending him staggering halfway across the room, where he tripped and crashed into an end table. There was no way Sam, as big and strong as he was, could have done that without putting power behind it. But the effort took its toll. He swayed on the spot and shook his head as if to toss off dizziness.

  Another attacker ran in to tackle him around the waist. Riley wound up with her candlestick, threw power behind her swing, and swung for the cheap seats. The metal connected with his chin, flattening him before he reached his target.

  Sam appeared to have recovered. He bounced on the balls of his feet, hands held loosely in front of his face, a small sneer forming as the remaining guys backed off. And then Riley heard a hollow pop.

  Quinn yelled and made a pushing motion with both hands but fell to her knees, obviously tapped out. Riley spun, drew, aimed, but she was again too late. A thud vibrated the floor under her feet. Nick had been felled like a tree by a tranquilizer dart just like the one heading straight for Sam’s neck. She lashed out again, and again, until the candlestick seared her hand and she was forced to drop it.

  “No!” she screamed as someone thrust a hood over Quinn’s head and dragged her upright, hauling her toward the open door. She struggled against hands and arms, tried to draw on Sam’s screw-ring, but it wasn’t enough. The more desperate she grew, the less the energy came. And then there was a sting in her arm, her head went fuzzy, and everything faded away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  One discovery that has stemmed from our new focus on education and understanding is the range of limitation for each goddess. Years of practice and training can make us believe we know our limits, but circumstances can always push our boundaries and give us new knowledge about each other and ourselves.

  — Goddess Society for Education and Defense, “New Focus” Educational Initiative

  Riley blinked in a sudden burst of light when the hood was pulled off her face. She barely had time to register a basic beige hallway before they shoved her into darkness and slammed a door behind her. She landed on her hands and knees on a shaggy rug.

  “Fuck!”

  A feeble glow lit and moved across the space toward her. “Riley?”

  “Quinn?” Riley rose to her knees. Quinn huddled on a bed against the wall. She knee-walked across the floor. “Are you all right?”

  “Relatively speaking.” The phone dimmed, and Quinn hit a button with her thumb. “Are you?”

  “Mostly. Assholes.” Stupid ones. They hadn’t searched her or taken anything away. She dug in her inside jacket pocket for her keychain. It had a small flashlight attached. She twisted it on and waved it around the room.

  Colors were hard to distinguish, but the walls were bare, painted drywall. The bed was the only furniture, and the light fixture in the center of the ceiling had no bulbs. No windows in the room, either, not even covered. “This looks like Millinger.”

  “We haven’t been gone long enough to be in Georgia,” Quinn said. “I don’t think.”

  “I know, but I mean, it’s just as empty and cold.” Riley set the light on the floor and crossed her legs. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

  “Not at all. I passed out. Were you able to pick up any clues coming in?”

  “They drugged me, so I was foggy but conscious. I heard city sounds, but nothing specific.”

  “You didn’t overhear conversations or anything?”

  “No.” Riley fumed, replaying the whole attack in her head. “Who the hell were those guys?”

  “I don’t know.” Quinn cleared her throat and shifted again. “They all seemed young. In their twenties.”

  Riley had noticed that, too. “And they weren’t dressed like Anson’s thugs. Their clothes were more expensive. Speaking of Anson.” She thought harder, but couldn’t remember seeing him after he’d been knocked to the ground. Had he just run, or were their attackers working for him? “That had to be the reason he was stalling, right?”

  “That’s my guess. Riley…they tranqed the guys, didn’t they? What did you see? Is Nick—” Her voice quavered and stuck, as if she didn’t want to know the answer.

  “I think he’s okay. I don’t know if they took them, but I don’t think so. When we got here I heard them carry you out, and then they made me walk. I couldn’t hear anything that sounded like they were hauling a few hundred pounds of muscle. And you know Nick and Sam would have been fighting if they were awake. Or at least cursing.”

  “You’re right.” Quinn sighed.

  They sat in tension-thick silence for a few minutes. Riley prayed Sam was okay. Maybe Anson wouldn’t have reason to harm them. He’d been genuinely shocked by the idea that he might have hurt her family. He’d let Riley go, back in Atlanta, and he didn’t seem to like getting his hands dirty. He sure as hell hadn’t fought after Sam broke his nose.

  But things had escalated with this abduction. He was working with other people now, men whose greed might far outweigh their squeamishness, and he had plenty of reasons to lash out at Sam. Ril
ey stifled a sob. If he was hurt, it was her fault. She should never have let him go with her to Boston. Or never even have gone into his bar in the first place. He’d been her champion from beginning to end. How much was he going to suffer for that, because of her?

  But she couldn’t honestly say she wished she had never gone to him for help. He was the most amazing man she’d ever met, and every moment she’d spent with him, even over distance, had made her fall harder. When they’d made love on the balcony, they’d been so close, so entwined in each other, that Riley couldn’t tell them apart. Not only in the romance novel sense but also in a power-centric one. His golden light and whatever made up her own essence had merged into a mentally blinding flash of not just ecstasy, but joy.

  She didn’t know if Sam had felt it too. What if she fell in love with him, and all he needed from her was a way to balance himself with the power?

  Quinn moaned and bent forward, her arms across her stomach.

  “What’s wrong?” Riley got up and leaned closer. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing,” Quinn whispered. After a moment she eased back against the wall again. “It’s the power.”

  Riley tried not to panic. “What’s it doing?”

  “Since I separated the strands, it doesn’t stop moving. It’s like Tanda’s is trying to get back to her—that’s the best way to describe it. Beth’s feels lost and sad, like grief, but it’s fading.”

  Riley tried not to think of what the remnants were doing to Sam right now. And that wasn’t even the worst of what Quinn was dealing with. “And Marley’s?”

  “Sick,” Quinn groaned before taking a deep breath.

  “What’s it going to—”

  Quinn cut her off. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes. When it’s all that’s left, I’ll figure out what needs to be done. I just need to get Tanda’s transferred.”

  Before she was literally torn to pieces from the inside out.

  Riley couldn’t fathom what it would do to Nick if they didn’t get out of here and Quinn died from this. And where would that leave Sam?