For a moment she saw the energy swirling around them, a green mist. She could unhinge her jaw and suck it into her soul.
She blinked, and the world resolved around her. Normal. No green mist. No craving.
Okay, that was getting a little scary. She couldn’t pass that off as fatigue or low blood sugar.
She blinked again, hard, and gave her head a tiny, sharp shake. Nothing changed this time. Except Anson stood alone now, sipping a beer with one hand in his pocket. He rotated slowly, and Marley knew he was giving Gage the lay of the room. The three new guys had taken one look at Anson and cornered Tony, who was now scowling and getting in the face of the one who’d done the most talking. As angry as he appeared, he spoke too low for her to catch it.
She compared Jared and Vincent to the three newcomers. Anson’s contacts seemed a little younger, maybe by a couple of years. They stood shoulder to shoulder and wore matching false nonchalance. One kept flicking his fingers against his thumb. The other would sniff and run his hand under his nose every few seconds. Neither of them wore glasses but both had the pallor and scrawniness of smart guys who lived every minute indoors, probably hunched over computers. Their Numina signatures weren’t as powerful as Christopher’s, Brad’s, and Tony’s were, and it was as if a light layer of flux lay on top of that. There, but not dynamic. Marley wouldn’t bet money on either one of them achieving much success with this path. Not when they couldn’t tuck in their shirts or tie their shoes properly.
Did that mean they were destined to be discarded like the ones in the meeting room?
Brad had mollified the other three somehow. Marley decided to call them A, B, and C for now. They seemed closer to the ages of the inner circle, around twenty-five or twenty-six. They had more flux, and it was more integrated into their Numina signatures, which were stronger than Jared’s and Vincent’s. Marley wondered if the integration meant they’d received more flux, or used it more often, or had a natural affinity for it. Just as every chemical drug impacted the user differently, and every person had a different sensitivity to, say, electromagnetic energy, flux would act differently with each person who obtained it.
But watching these guys, Marley wondered how much of the effect Cressida dictated. She had to be able to control the amount she bestowed. A, B, and C were studly, confident guys. Their polo shirts and khakis were neat and fit them well. Whether their families had been hit hard financially or not, they still acted successful. Entitled and arrogant, too, but maybe that was part of it.
A stood with his feet braced wide, his beer held loosely while he surveyed the room, making eye contact with the others around him as though establishing his authority, however much of it was in his head. B was a little more relaxed. He was the only one of the three who hadn’t been aggressive to Tony. He projected quiet boredom, almost an invitation to entertain him before he lost interest completely. C, the beefiest of the three, had migrated toward the food table. He’d take a few chips, swipe them in dip, and cross the few feet back to his friends for half a minute before making the trip again to try the party mix or a chicken wing. Which one had been the whiner earlier today? Her money was on B. He was good at looking bored, but on closer inspection, his eyes darted around a lot. Like he expected her to jump out any second and take everything away.
Yeah, I’ll get there eventually, buddy.
Marley wished they’d hurry up. The chatter that came through the speaker was stupid, irrelevant stuff. The ubiquitous video games and some chicks A, B, and C expected to hook up with later. She relaxed into a holding position, her vision fuzzed, her brain chill but primed to go alert the instant someone said something worth listening to.
And then it happened again. The green mist floated lazily around the five fluxed Deimons. Her craving returned, a gnawing hunger in her gut. This time, Marley held still, letting it build, trying to analyze it without letting it take over. This might be a new aspect of her abilities. The awareness of Numina and flux had never been visual before, but it hadn’t been individualized or measurable, either, and it definitely was now. She struggled not to focus her eyes, afraid everything would snap away again. But instead, the image of her unhinged jaw, like the viper Gage had called her, filled her brain again. She would breathe deep and all the mist would flow into her. She’d master it and be the most powerful goddess in the world.
No. That last thought wasn’t hers. She didn’t want to be powerful. Not like that. Not raging and hungry, like a leech. Her knuckles ached, and her teeth squeaked together from her fear that if she released her jaw, it would mimic the image in her head.
The door to the apartment opened, out of sight, and all the talk in the living room stopped. The guys all turned to face the entrance. Brad joined them, wiping his hands on a towel. Christopher came into sight first, his actual command of the room making A’s posturing look silly. A few steps behind him came one of the most beautiful woman Marley had ever seen.
She had paid more attention in the barn to the pageantry than to the goddess herself. Unlike the other night, Cressida walked into the room wearing normal city clothes—snug black pants tucked into spike-heeled boots of smooth leather and a peacock-blue shirt that draped from her shoulders, leaving her arms bare and flashing hints of cleavage. The shirt was cinched by a silver belt, matched by long, feathery silver earrings and silver tips on the toes of her boots. Her dark gold hair was pulled up in loops to cascade down over her shoulders, and from here, Marley could tell that her eyes matched her shirt.
But her beauty didn’t come from her body or her exotic, symmetrical features and flawless skin, the way she dressed, or even how she carried herself. The source of it was an internal, intangible je ne sais quoi. Charisma, chemistry, magnetism, allure—however someone wanted to label it, Cressida Lahr had oceans of it, intangible to everyone but Marley.
For the first time since her leeching, she could detect another goddess. Not in the same way she used to identify the presence of one and not in the same way she could sense Numina. It wasn’t a hum or shimmer in her brain—it was something more external. Actual magnetic attraction. Marley couldn’t tear her gaze away from the woman, even to gauge everyone else’s reactions to her. She was literally up against the glass, like an insect on a lighted window.
Talk about loss of control.
Slowly, Marley’s sense of reason returned. She backed carefully away from the mirror and the bent and crumpled mini-blind slats. Had anyone heard her? She found herself breathing shallowly, afraid before she knew she was afraid. She was going to be no match for this woman.
But then she had even more reason to fear when Aiden walked into the room behind the goddess.
…
“Marley, answer me!” Gage pounded his fist on the kitchen table in Aiden’s apartment. This was all wrong. He had no eyes on Marley, no ears on Anson, no idea what was happening. She’d gone quiet about ten minutes ago and didn’t respond to his attempts to communicate. He’d thought at first it was a comm malfunction, but he could hear her breathing. A moment ago, everyone in Anson’s camera had turned to face the entrance, and Marley had given an almost sexual gasp. Gage assumed Lahr had walked in, based on that in-unison move and Anson’s uncharacteristic failure to make sure the camera had a clear view. It was blocked by the guy in front of him.
What if the goddess could tell Marley was there? She definitely had the power. They were so stupid, assuming Marley could go undetected once Cressida was on the premises. They had no clue what her inherent abilities were or what was passed on with the flux. They’d never discussed the possibility that they could sense her presence the same way she could sense theirs.
“Marley!” he yelled again, shooting to his feet. He’d go up there—
“Chill, Moon Man. I’m fine.”
Relief hit him so hard that he did, in fact, chill from the inside out. He sank back onto the sofa and shoved his hands into his hair. When he was sure he could talk without his voice wavering, he said, “Moon Man?”
“That’s your handle. Viper, Cowbird, Moon Man.”
“I don’t get it.” The handle, anyway. He got that she was trying to distract him into calmness.
“You’re like the guy in Houston directing the astronauts on the Apollo missions. Moon Man.”
He managed a chuckle. “That’s weak, Canton. Try again. Later.” He pressed the earpiece deeper into his ear. “I can’t see anything. Anson’s got the camera blocked. What’s going on?”
“Hang on.” A few seconds later, murmurs joined Marley’s breathing in Gage’s ear.
“Marl?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I stuck my backup comm in the speaker.”
“Thanks.”
“She’s here,” she shared unnecessarily.
“I can tell that much. What’s happening?”
“Nothing. They’re all just standing there. But Gage…”
He didn’t need to hear what she was about to say. The group shifted. Cressida stepped forward, toward Anson, and the camera picked up her incredible beauty, something between a runway model and the aura that had floored him in the barn. Her aqua eyes were focused on Anson’s face, several inches above the camera, and she approached with a seductive sway.
But Gage only registered all of that in the two seconds before she shifted to skirt a chair and he spotted his brother. Any foolish hopes he’d harbored that Aiden wasn’t part of this shattered.
Gage pressed his fists to his mouth and stared at the laptop screen. Aiden looked older, more serious. He watched Cressida with possessiveness and a coiled tension, as if ready to spring to her aid should anyone try anything.
“Is…is he fluxed?” Gage managed to choke out.
“No,” Marley said softly.
His breath came out in an embarrassing half sob. “You’re sure?”
“I promise. His Numina signature is almost as strong as yours, but that’s all I detect. No flux.”
“Jesus.” He swept his thumb across his right eye. “I feel like Neo dodging his first bullet. But it’s still not good.”
“No,” Marley agreed. “He came in with her and Christopher.”
“They could have been in the hall at the same time.”
“Could have.”
But she was placating him. Gage knew better. Where would Aiden have been before going to Chris’s, if not in his own apartment? The way he looked at the goddess, there was no other possibility. He’d been with her.
Gage hadn’t realized how he’d hoped Aiden wasn’t involved in all this, despite all the signs. Especially after what they’d seen in that meeting room, a faint voice had run in the back of his mind, reassuring him that Aiden would never be party to such abhorrence. That if he was involved at all, he’d been coerced into it, or even held against his will to keep him from reporting back to their father.
Instead, he was not only involved but obviously one of the leaders of their little group. But at least he wasn’t fluxed. Maybe whatever kind of relationship he had with Cressida Lahr wasn’t healthy—there was no way it could be—but Aiden hadn’t yet taken that irrevocable step. Gage hadn’t failed his brother.
He focused on the goddess now. No one had spoken since she arrived. She tilted her head to the left and curved her full, red mouth into a predatory smile.
“I know you.” Her voice was as seductive as everything else about her. Christ, Gage could practically feel the waves of power coming off her, and he wasn’t even in the room.
“You do,” Anson answered without his usual lack of emotion. His words were simple confirmation, but they were said with affection and welcome.
Marley made a noise in her throat.
“It’s been a very long time,” Cressida said.
“More than ten years,” Anson agreed. “I had no idea this was you.”
Her head slowly cocked to the other side. “You had no idea what was me?”
“This.” His hand rose briefly into view and disappeared. “The gift, and the gift-giver.”
“You liar,” Marley whispered. “You had to know. Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Gage shifted to the edge of the sofa, staring so hard at the screen they could probably feel it down the hall. Marley shushed him.
“Are you here for my gifts?” Cressida asked.
“I was hoping to be. I used to lead these men.” He twisted, probably gesturing to Jared and Vincent, and the change in camera angle brought Aiden into the center of the shot. He was now leaning against the archway between the foyer and the living room, his fingertips tucked in the pockets of his jeans, but the new position didn’t make him seem any less likely to strike if he thought it was warranted.
“They’re not very good men.” Cressida didn’t look where Anson had indicated. “Does that mean you’re not a very good leader?”
The camera moved with his shrug. “They did what I needed them to do.”
She nodded once, her smile fading. “Then, as now, apparently. You used them to gain access to my program, but you’re skipping ahead. That concerns me.”
Another shrug. “I knew you’d be here. So here is where I came.”
She sighed, a move that shifted her shirt enticingly. Gage waited tensely to see if she’d kick Anson out or let him stay. Marley’s breathing had stopped, too, and he imagined her on top of the dryer, holding herself with that incredible stillness.
“All right. We’ll see what you have to offer.” The goddess stepped closer and leaned up. Even with the comm filtering the sounds, the carnality of her kiss came through.
“Ew,” Marley complained. “That’s like porn.”
“I can’t see anything,” Gage said.
“Lucky you. It’s like she’s impregnating him with her mouth.”
Gage couldn’t help but laugh, but his amusement disappeared quickly. “How’s Aiden taking it?”
After a second, Marley said, “Hmm. Not well. I think he might tear Anson’s head off if she lets him.”
“Is that in a hired-thug kind of sense, or more of a ‘she’s my woman’ way?” When Marley only went hmm again, Gage said, “Come on. I need to know.” But her reluctance had already told him.
“The second one. I’m sorry.”
His stomach cramped. “We’ll deal with it. One thing at a time.”
Cressida backed away from Anson, and the young men moved around, finding their seats. Christopher stood in the center of the room and called Jared up to do his presentation.
It only took a few minutes for Marley to groan about how tedious it was. Gage didn’t disagree, but as a businessman, he had more insight than she did into what was happening. Lahr was making an investment. She wanted to know what they were going to do with the power she gave them because she wanted to gauge the return. He would bet anything she was getting a percentage of their income or other gains.
And he had a sinking feeling he knew where she was getting her business advice. His gaze flicked to his brother.
“Any sign she knows you’re there?” he asked Marley halfway through the third guy’s pitch.
“No,” Marley responded, “but she should. Unless she’s not looking. I don’t know. When I was a goddess—”
“You still are,” Gage cut in.
“I didn’t automatically know if there was someone in the next room or whatever. I had to ‘look.’ But she’s different. We’ve only had one other goddess with the sun as her source, and I never actually saw her use it. I don’t know what to expect from this one besides what we’ve already seen.”
Gage studied his brother again. He and his three friends had remained on their feet while everyone else sat. Brad and Tony were a few feet behind the big wicker fan-back chair from which Cressida held court. Where had they gotten that monstrosity, anyway? Gage had to admit she looked good in it. It was a much more fitting throne than the one in the barn. Which might be the point. He wondered where she sat in LA. The decorations in here weren’t much more than a grade above the cheesy ones in the barn. Gold suns decorated a dark bl
ue linen tablecloth on the food table. A larger, giant sun hanging over the gas fireplace appeared to be made of metal. Not party-store plastic but not exactly elegant.
Christopher stood closer to the group, a facilitator without much to do. Aiden, though, stood right at Cressida’s elbow. He looked ready to jump the second she ordered him, but he was attentive rather than obsequious.
Eventually, the five originally scheduled for tonight’s ceremony were done. Cressida swept her hand toward Anson and nodded. He rose, ignoring Christopher’s step forward to usher him into position, and strode toward the goddess until he stood a couple of feet away.
“You have no initial bestowment to report on,” she pointed out. “And have had no time to prepare a presentation of how you would use my gift. So let’s begin with your compensation.”
“I can give you what you want.”
The goddess studied him with wary interest, perhaps remembering how Anson would know what she wanted. From the look of things—the ceremonies, the acolytes, all with a “tribute” to Cressida Lahr at their core—she didn’t know what she wanted, herself.
“How?” she asked.
“I don’t think you want me to say it here.”
She stood. “Clear the room!”
The fluxheads scurried to comply, pouring out of the living room toward the kitchen. Aiden and Christopher remained while Brad and Tony herded the others, but the goddess made a sharp move with her hand, and they followed. Aiden looked crushed when she didn’t even turn to look at him.
“What the hell is he doing?” Marley murmured, but Gage had no answer.
“Well?” Cressida demanded.
Anson stepped closer, so the camera only showed her chest. Gage assumed Anson was hiding her face from him so he couldn’t read her lips. But he didn’t know Gage and Marley could both hear.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured. He stroked his hand down her arm. Gage was surprised she didn’t lop it off. But her hair shifted, as if she’d dipped her head.
Sunroper (Goddesses Rising) Page 16