Skin of a Goddess (Goddess Ascension Book 1)

by Victoria C. Johnson

  “All right, we’re looking into griffins, humans, werewolves, and tiger shifters,” I say out loud.

  “Should we look into the victims so we know if there’s any connection or something that could help us narrow down the suspect pool?”

  I shake my head. “Ana and Apate said the authorities told them there wasn’t a connection besides gender and being supernatural. This makes it more upsetting, since they can’t narrow down who will be targeted and who needs to be especially protected.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “So far, the authorities are assuming that the victims have no connection to the abductors and are being randomly selected, out of convenience.”

  “Mhmm, humans first then.”

  I click a few keys, then say, “There are only four. One for a vampire representative, and the other three came with weres. Two of those three are married to weres, and the other one seems to be close with one of the families.”

  She nods and writes down the names before she says, “Griffins.”

  “Two griffin siblings, one male the other female. Oh, the female is married to a tiger shifter,” I point out.

  She writes down those names, saying, “Weird couple.”

  I try to ignore the fact that we’re probably an odder one. “There are twenty-three tiger shifters. How about I just print out those names?”

  “Good idea. I don’t know why so many showed up.”

  “It’s a shifter convention,” I point out.

  “Yeah, but usually only a few from each group actually come to it.”

  “All right, for werewolves … shit, one hundred and fourteen.” I whistle.

  “There’s always a good turnout for the mutts. Only a pack leader and his family or omega come to the convention, leaving the beta behind to run things. Still, they practically fuck like rabbits, so there’s a bunch of the damn things everywhere. Anywhere in the world, take ten steps, and you’ll run into a place where a werewolf has pissed,” she says wisely.

  “Isn’t that … insightful. Let me just rule out the people who came to the convention late or aren’t old enough to have done it,” I say, and she dutifully crosses names from the lists for children and latecomers.

  “We still have, like, a hundred names,” Peitho points out.

  “We can also take away names using common sense. I doubt the hotel owner would choose now to begin a crime ring, and neither would the convention director.”

  “Fine, we can take away a few more names,” she agrees as we analyze the list.

  “All right, now to look into their criminal records.”

  “Cha-ching!” she exclaims from over my shoulder.

  “He was only arrested for petty theft.” I frown.

  She ignores my protest, saying, “He’s got potential for crime.”

  “Whatever, just put a little star by his name or something.” I continue going through more of the lists and letting her tally up the criminals.

  “No major bad guys,” she complains in disappointment.

  “So sad,” I say sarcastically. “We still got a few thieves and such. Even a few guys with active restraining orders against them. What’s the list to?”

  “If we’re just looking at people who have been convicted of something, then we’re at twenty-seven. If we’re including people who haven’t been convicted, then we’re at seventy-two,” Peitho says, after quickly counting the names on her lists.

  “Let’s start with the convicted criminals,” I say, before looking at the lists and starting to type out again.

  Hours later Peitho comes bounding back into the room. I can easily tell she’s been bored out of her mind. For one thing, her hair is in a disarray of braids sticking out from her head, all tied off with bits of yarn and thread pulled off of my blankets and tapestries. My shirt that she stole and made into a dress now has a pelt that she’s made into a cape. There’s even a black belt that looks suspiciously like one of my few ties.

  She sees me looking her up and down and pats her hair self-consciously. “I was bored!”

  I nod wordlessly. To tell the truth, this rumpled look really has me hard as a rock. I mean, hair all over the place like she doesn’t have a care in the world and a fur pelt swinging around her shoulders like she’s a Viking princess? The effortless beauty of her is heart-stopping. No one should look this lovely with a smudged face, hair sticking out, and makeshift clothes. Then my eyes narrow around her neck.

  “Peitho, is that a necklace?” I ask with a seemingly calm voice.

  Peitho sniffs at me defensively. “I found it in your room, and it’s very glittery! Makes a good necklace!”

  I can’t help the possessive grin that falls over my face. Tied around her neck with a bit of black thread is one of my scales. It’s about the size of her palm, so one of my smaller scales. It’s a bright green that’s my coloring in dragon form. It looks almost like a thin, smooth, shiny rock. Very beautiful against her lovely golden skin.

  “That’s hardly fair. You have a piece of me as an engagement ring of sorts, and I have nothing to represent that I’m yours,” I say teasingly.

  She just frowns at me. “After the stunts you’ve pulled, you can’t really expect that I’m wearing this because it’s yours, do you? I just think it’s pretty. No one is going to look at and say ‘that looks like a dragon scale. I bet she’s taken by one.’ You can take that lovely little idea and stick it up your lying, cheating ass.”

  “I resent the cheating part of that statement.” I give her a little pout. It’s so fun to irritate her.

  “Oh, don’t give me that look! You’ve totally cheated. I mean, stealing me away in the night isn’t playing by the rules!”

  “It was daytime.” I sniff. “If you don’t want to give me anything to represent my commitment to you, so be it. For all it’s worth, you can keep my scale. Oh, and I have something else for you. I forgot to give it to you when you woke up.” I dig around in my back pocket until I find it, and then hand it to her.

  Her eyes light up, just as I hoped they would. “Is that what I think it is?”

  I’m not sure what she thinks it is, but it’s not too hard to figure it out. It’s a very nice ring. In fact, not one of my stolen treasures or anything, not that she needs to know that. It was passed down to me from my great-grandmother when my great-grandfather got her a new wedding ring. It’s a gold band, with a large, perfect princess-cut diamond set in the middle. There are diamonds forming a border around it, every other stone a shiny emerald.

  “Here, let me,” I suggest, getting up and taking the ring back from her. I take her left hand before she can protest, and slip the ring onto her finger. “A perfect fit.”

  Peitho takes her hand from my grasp and holds it away from her, turning it so she can admire the ring from all angles. I can’t help but think that the emeralds match the scale she has around her neck. I thought the green would complement her coloring, and I couldn’t have been more right.

  She suddenly looks up at me with narrowed eyes. “If you think this is going to make me forgive you, then you have another thing coming! Not to say that I won’t be keeping the ring. I mean, it obviously likes me and needs a new home with someone loving to take care of it. I’m not doing it for you, of course.”

  I smile. She’s just so insane! Plus, with her standing there with my scale around her neck, my ring around her finger, my shirt on her body, my tie around her waist, and a pelt from an animal that I hunted around her shoulders, it’s hard to be angry. Everything about her claims her as mine. Even the crazy braids sticking out every which way like Medusa.

  “I didn’t think it would make you forgive me, but I thought it couldn’t hurt. Consider it a gift from our handfasting. I know you didn’t want it and it came as a surprise. I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to give you earlier,” I say.

  “Now you’re making me feel bad!”

  I just blink. “That wasn’t the intention.”

  “Ugh, I have to give you somethi
ng now you big, tricksy dragon! Probably all part of your plot.” She sighs, taking the scale from around her neck.

  I’m about to protest, my heart nearly sputtering to a halt when she removes my scale. Then I become even more worried when she just raises it up near her head. I mean, what is this mad woman doing now? It becomes a bit clearer when she raises the scale like a blade and cuts a thin braid from her head. Though I’m not really sure what the point of it is.

  Peitho hands the perfectly coiled bit of hair to me. “Here you go.”

  “Um, thanks so much. I’ll treasure it always. I’ll go put it with the others—” I say, and start to walk from the room.

  “It’s not for you to lock up in a chest and let rot, you big dummy.” She huffs with impatience before walking purposefully toward me. “Here,” Peitho says, taking the braid from me.

  She captures my ring finger and twines the braid around it. I feel some spark of power as the braid closes and the extra bit of hair seems to fall away as if cut off. The ends of the braid on either side fuse together. Before my eyes, the hair darkens and hardens until it’s like metal. It’s a perfect fusion of gold, red, and deep, rich brown. Incomparably lovely.

  “How did you do that?” I ask in a hushed voice, looking at the simple braided band resting on my finger.

  Peitho gives a little shrug. “Magic, what else? The ring will always last, never break, and never become dirty. It can be used as a friendship ring or marriage. If you need me, twirl it, and I’ll know. It’ll actually feel like you’re pulling my hair.”

  “You know this because you’ve given one before?” I ask, suddenly unable to breathe at the wave of possessiveness.

  “Yeah, my mom had one. I confiscated it from her when it seemed like my hair was getting pulled at least twice a week for a ‘crisis’ of some sort. It was usually something dumb, like she didn’t know what to wear. Anyway, use it with care or I’ll take that one back too.”

  “Is this a special power of yours?” I ask.

  “No, all immortals can do it. You know we’re big on giving signs of favor. Stick around me for the next couple of months and you’ll likely learn even more little trinkets of information,” she says.

  I can only hope so. It’s not enough that she’s wearing part of my dragon self around her neck, which is the most possessive part of my nature. No, now she’s given me part of herself to wear as a little ring. It doesn’t even look scary girly. Just a simple twined ring that looks as if it’s made of threads of copper, gold, and dyed silver. Of course, all have a richer color and better quality than such minerals. That, and much more meaning and value.

  “Thank you.” I look into her amber eyes, meaning every word and so much more.

  Peitho looks into my eyes for a moment before giving herself a little shake and waving away my thanks. “Yeah, no big deal. Don’t mention it. Like, literally, don’t mention it.”

  I shake my head, wondering why she always pulls away from me. It’s true I don’t know what my feelings for her are, but I know I’m drawn to her energy and light. I like her much more than I probably should. Or what’s safe to like her, since I know nothing serious is waiting for us.

  “Found any bad guys for me?” she asks, nodding at the computer in an obvious subject change that I’m grateful for.

  “I actually do have a few. A human I actually met at the convention, named Vincent, has two restraining orders against him from previous girlfriends. Doesn’t appear that he ever got violent with any of them. He apparently lives off of a vampire coven leader and doesn’t have a bank account, so we might as well check that out. There are seven werewolves that I found suspicious information on. I doubt the female griffin is involved since she’s pregnant and warned the hotel that she’d have special needs. Her brother could be, though it’s doubtful. There are only two tiger shifters that seem like they could maybe be involved.”

  “Only eleven suspects from narrowing the list?” she asks.

  “Yeah, though I only narrowed down the werewolves and weretigers that have a criminal record, since their numbers were the largest,” I explain.

  “Super, if no one from our current list is it, we can go back to the werewolves and weretigers who have never been charged.”

  “I think we’ve made a pretty good start for the other ladies.”

  She holds a hand up to me. “Wait a minute there, big guy, lets rewind. Did you say a good start for the others? As in, my roommates? As in the women I already explained don’t know what the fuck they’re doing when it comes to this investigation or, goddess forbid, interrogating people?”

  I gulp, knowing she’s not going to like what I have to say. “I did kind of mean them. If we could just contact them and tell them whom to question first and maybe what to ask—”

  “They would find same way to screw the whole thing up! No way, I totally veto the idea. In fact, I order you not to tell them a thing!”

  “I thought you wanted to help!” I protest.

  “Trust me, turning the girls on those poor, unsuspecting murder victims would in no way be helping!” she says.

  “I know you don’t think that they can do anything without you, but I think you should give it a chance just this once. We can’t sit on this information without doing anything about it.”

  “I agree,” she says, and I know I’ve somehow done something wrong when she grins. “You said yesterday that if I behave like a good little girl we can go back to the convention, where I can question people and you can read their minds. I think I’ve behaved pretty well.”

  “It’s only been one day!” I protest.

  “To be fair, love bug, it’s been two. It’s now afternoon. Which reminds me, you didn’t feed me breakfast, and it’s a bit late for lunch, so I’ll expect a good linner.”

  “Linner?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Hunter, if you plan on keeping me, then you seriously need to get with the times. Linner is a word that represents the meal that lies somewhere between lunch and dinner. A late lunch and an early dinner. Linner.”

  “Ah, of course,” I say, trying not to look at her like she’s crazy.

  “If I get my linner and we have a fresh start tomorrow, then I’ll have behaved and been here for two boring and painful—I mean glorious and safe—days,” Peitho continues blithely.

  “Right. I also recall saying that we could talk about the next course of action in about a week. When things simmer down a bit. Or when they’re not looking for you quite so hard,” I say, and then wince a little at how the words managed to come out.

  Peitho gives an insulted gasp. “Not looking for me so hard? Do you honestly think a week will make a difference in how hard the girls look for me? It could take a century, and they’d still be prowling every corner of the earth for a whiff of me. Oh, and by simmer down, do you mean when other people are taken? The rate that things are going right now, they’re just going to take more people. Especially in an entire week. For all we know there’s already more people missing.”

  I gulp and try not to show how guilty her words make me feel. “I still don’t think it’s the safest option.”

  “I won’t let any of the girls see me or try to contact them. I can shield my aura from them so they won’t be able to tell that I’m there. Besides, if I wear your clothes, that will help block me.”

  “What if you’re taken?”

  She sighs. “You’ll be right there with me, which I thought was the entire point of taking me here.”

  “That was one of the points, but another one was getting you away from the threat in the first place. Which you are, here, hours away from the convention.”

  Peitho pulls at her hair a bit, making it look even crazier. “Fine, I didn’t want to tell you this, but it looks like I have no choice. The ring I gave you? You can use it to trace me.”

  I blink at her in confusion. “How?”

  “If you think of me, the ring will become dull or bright, depending on how close you are to me. It’s
hard to explain, but since the ring is a part of me, it will pull you toward me. It’s alive, you know,” she says.

  “Pull me toward you in what way?” I ask.

  “Close your eyes, touch the ring, and think of me. You’ll see what I mean,” she says with an edge of anger.

  I look at her a little suspiciously before closing my eyes and thinking of her. I think of Peitho’s large amber eyes that seem to glow with mischief, her hair with a perfect balance of red, gold, and dark brown. Then lastly, her dull, burnt-gold skin that can become liquid gold in color in the blink of an eye.

  I feel an odd little pulse from my finger. I open my eyes to see the ring glowing even brighter than before. I feel a pull in Peitho’s direction from the ring. It’s amazingly insistent. I start to understand what she meant when she said the ring would lead me to her. I can’t keep myself from walking the few steps to close the distance.

  Peitho gives a little grin before reaching out and touching the ring, and as if she’s turned it off, the ring dulls once again. “See what I mean?”

  “You weren’t going to tell me about it?” I ask, thinking about the mightily powerful gift she’s given.

  Peitho looks slightly uncomfortable as she says, “Didn’t think it was important.”

  We both know she’s lying, but there’s not much I can say to that. “What you’re saying is, on the off chance you’re taken, I’ll be able to find you no matter where you are in the world?”

  “Yep, pretty much. See, isn’t that a handy dandy gift? Now, can we go tomorrow, huh, huh?” she asks, eyes glowing up and showing redder.

  “I guess there’s really no way I can say no.”

  She grins. “Totally. I knew you’d have to if I told you about the ring. Is there anything special about your scale?”

  “It can be used as a weapon. It’s pretty sharp. They can be molded into arrowheads and weapons. If someone is cut by one, the wound will take longer to heal. That’s about it. The scale can’t make you find me or summon me to you.”

  “Oh, too bad,” she says, though she doesn’t sound upset about the fact at all. “A weapon, huh? I guess I’ll have to look around for a bigger scale so you can fashion me a pretty little dagger. Enyo would piss herself with jealousy.”