The Goddess Chronicles Books 4-6: Urban Fantasy

by KB Anne

  Since Caer’s arrival at the keep, she hadn’t been to his room or visited him in his dreams. But then, she had gotten what she wanted—to be trained by Gallean with the singular purpose of destroying Balor. The “dance move” lessons both she and Gigi complained about were over. Now, Scott and Caer spent hours working with knives, swords, hands, and fists. She bested him in many instances, but when he removed his conscience from the training and really concentrated on winning, he bested her—much to Caer’s displeasure.

  He loved the way her whole body pulsed with power when they were grappling. If he were honest with himself, he had loved the way her lips felt when she’d crushed hers to his even more. And though he tried to talk himself out of the legends that spoke of an Otherworldly relationship, and as much as he tried to dismiss the physical chemistry between them, he knew he’d kiss her again. Her lips demanded his attention.

  He paced back and forth in his room. He should probably go out to the courtyard. The room was hardly big enough to contain him, especially at the speed in which he traveled. But leaving his quarters opened up the chance that Caer would show up. He had left her once with closed eyes, tilted chin, and pursed lips. He didn’t trust himself to be strong enough to leave her a second time.

  He wished he had The Druid Sisters of Gallicenial book to distract him. If he could gain insight into Carman’s mind, he could find a way to remove her as a threat. While the witch may no longer be in her original physical form (if the wrinkled old lady was actually her first body), it would stand to reason that her actions and motivations would remain the same. She’d continue her vengeful agenda of ridding the world of Brigit. He had to believe that even the darkest, most evil of people had once possessed light. If he could find that light, perhaps he could discover a way to return her to goodness, thereby eliminating her as a threat without any bloodshed.

  A novel approach for some. A necessary one for him.

  Caer hadn’t sleep well. Scott left her longing for him. Again. It wouldn’t do to keep thinking about a boy who may or may not be interested in her. He had manipulated her into caring about him—probably to get back at her for the portal incident. She wished he’d put it behind them and focus instead on their training rather than tricking her into wanting to kiss him again.

  It had been a mistake to kiss him when she had appeared in Gallean’s study. After dreaming about him for so long, she couldn’t help herself. She prided herself on self-control, and then she was closing her eyes and puckering up in her bedroom, waiting for Scott to kiss her.

  Foolish. Weak. Unattainable.

  “Concentrate, Caer,” Gallean shouted.

  Each day the training had intensified tenfold. Today, Gallean came at them aggressively and without restraint. She tried to parry his assault, but her muscles and her brain were exhausted. Last night, to combat her desire to visit Scott, either in person or through his dreams, she had read The Druid Sisters of the Gallicenial and discovered some interesting information about Carman, the witch that Scott seemed to be especially interested in. Carman had betrayed all of humanity when she aligned with Clayone. She threw away her long-term relationship with Ris for the werewolf, or at least for whatever he promised her. The book did not go into details. Carman deserved to die if she wasn’t dead already.

  “Focus,” Gallean growled, swiping at her with bear claws. Caer leapt away from the extended claws, which narrowly missed her midsection. She’d never seen Gallean partially shift before. Did it mean that he was going to fully shift and she and Scott would be forced to fight the bear, or was it just his way of saying, “Pay attention or I will gut you”? Either way, the claws, along with the rest of the bear, weren’t something she wanted to get too close to.

  “Pick on someone your own size, hairy,” Scott yelled, smacking Gallean’s rear end with his sword.

  It wasn’t like the wizard to leave his backside unattended. Good for Scott to take advantage of the weakness. It was apparently something he excelled at.

  Caer ignored the way the area just below her belly button tightened. It would not do for her body to become distracted at the sight of Scott, or any other man for that matter.

  She struck at Scott’s side, hoping to catch him off guard. He swung his sword down as he twisted away from her. Gallean lunged at Scott’s other side. Scott knocked away his attack, constantly shifting his attention between Gallean and Caer, deciding which one posed the most imminent threat. Without any kind of verbal or physical exchange between Gallean and Caer, they both leapt at him at the same time. He’d have to choose one to fight off, thus allowing the other one to attack. Or so Caer assumed.

  Scott didn’t shift into a bear, a wolf, or any other animal, but he fought them both off as if he had grown a thousand arms. He moved at a speed not of this world. Parrying away their sword thrusts as if they were nothing more than a child’s plaything. She had witnessed Scott’s speed in the courtyard when he sprinted toward her the day of his arrival, but he hadn’t shown any godly powers since then.

  But now. Here. He was a god reincarnate.

  His speed and battle prowess combined with her skill could bring down Balor’s army.

  Something bloomed inside Caer.

  It wasn’t longing for Scott.

  It wasn’t loneliness or desperation.

  It was hope.

  What the feck was happening to him? It almost felt like he was losing control of his body, but yet he wasn’t. His body had begun to ward off Caer and Gallean’s dual attack on its own, but then his mind shifted to command it. He was in complete control of his actions, evolving into something else entirely. He swirled. He slashed. He darted with speed and efficiency, never striking but always at the ready to block off an assault. Gallean and Caer continued to advance, but they no longer proved a threat. In fact, Scott found himself a tad bored and wanted to spice up the situation a bit.

  He glanced up at the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

  Why not?

  He lifted his feet and leapt to the balcony.

  Whoa, where the feck did that come from?

  He possessed the speed of the Flash, the ability to ward off an attack resemblant of Captain America, and the power to jump like Thor. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He had become the superhero he’d always longed to be. But instead of being elated, the power surging through his muscles promised to overwhelm him if he lost control.

  Gallean and Caer stood with wide open mouths in the courtyard below. Gallean’s eyes shone with what Scott suspected was pride. Caer, however, shifted between wonderment and hunger. He didn’t know if it was hunger for his new powers, hunger for lunch, or maybe, just maybe, hunger for him. He had left her room last night with her head raised, lips pursed, and chest rising and falling in anticipation of a kiss.

  He winked at her, and it was enough to snap her out of her daze. Her long, strong legs took the stairs three at a time. When she reached the landing, she sprinted after him with her sword at the ready. He efficiently evaluated her potential attacks and settled on the most imminent. She feinted to the right, but somehow he sensed that her intention was to attack left and catch him off guard. It wouldn’t work. He slipped behind her and wrapped his free arm around her body.

  “Gotcha,” he whispered.

  Catching her had been easier than he expected.

  For a second, she leaned into his frame as if she found comfort against him. As much as Scott tried to deny it, he liked having her close to him. He might have wanted to use her for her portal-making ability to get to Gigi, but he did want her all the same. His muscles relaxed as he embraced her. She took advantage of it. She dropped to her knees and spun out of his grasp then leapt back up to a fighting crouch, her eyes now murderous.

  It appeared she hadn’t forgiven him for last night and planned on punishing him. She’d have to catch him first.

  He leapt onto the balcony railing. Her eyes narrowed as she gripped her sword. When her muscles tensed, he ran along the three-inch–wide surf
ace. She chased after him, slashing at his feet with her sword. At each of her attempts, he jumped, and the blade sliced through the empty air as if in slow motion. He skipped along the balcony, enjoying the chase. His balance had always been good, but what he was doing bordered on the extraordinary.

  Caer growled in fury. As he rounded the corner, he saw her leap onto the balcony railing behind him. Without even stopping to catch her balance, she sprinted after him, her speed unimpeded by her need to calibrate on the railing. She might as well have been running on flat ground. She was fast—he’d give her that—but he was faster. Her determination at besting him made him realize he’d either have to beat her or have her bow to him. For now, though, he was having far too much fun playing keep-away with her.

  He jumped down to the courtyard, softening his knees to land, but he really didn’t need to. It seemed his muscles and bones were able to absorb the impact.

  Caer screamed in frustration from the balcony.

  “Focus, Caer. Remember what you’re capable of,” Gallean said, his voice reverberating in both their minds and the courtyard.

  She froze, staring at Scott, her chest rising and falling as she contemplated Gallean’s advice. Suddenly, her eyes shifted as an idea occurred to her, and she smiled.

  Scott gaped at her. She was even more breathtaking when she smiled. She didn’t do it often, but wow, when she did, she absolutely mesmerized him. He’d been a fecking idiot for leaving her room without stealing one kiss.

  In a blink of an eye she was gone. Panic ran through him. Was she in danger? Did she rip her own portal open and leave him?

  It wasn’t until he heard the scrape of leather boot against stone and felt the jab of her sword against his throat that he realized she had bested him.

  “Got you,” she whispered, her breath hot on his ear. He leaned into her body, her muscles hard against his back. Electrical currents coursed between them. He had never been so turned on in his entire life.

  His nonaggressive, almost surrendering posture seemed to catch her by surprise. Her chest rose and fell with a sharp intake of breath before her teeth ground against each other.

  “Concede,” she ordered.

  But as much as Scott liked having her close, he was still having too much fun.

  He whirled away from her and smiled. “You have to catch me first.”

  7

  Fight with Sarcasm

  No one came to visit me for what seemed like hours, but it was hard to tell time without a window. Not that I’m complaining. Definitely not complaining. But it’s surprising that alpha male Breas didn’t return to punish me for biting his tongue. He was probably too busy searching for a witch to cast a magic spell to repair the damage. Too bad I didn’t chomp it off. If I had, then unless a witch could cast a growth potion, Breas’s tongue’s sexual harassment days would be over.

  I had spat out the blood that spilled into my mouth after Breas stormed off, but there really was no way to remove it in its entirety, and I had a major case of the heebie-jeebies. I hated having any part of Breas in or near me. If I could cast a spell and remove all remnants of him, I would do it, but alas, the silver extinguished my abilities.

  Ryan brought bread and butter for my meal. I refused to eat any of it. My life mantra read like the medieval saying “Cut off my nose to spite my face.” Once, when I worried that Alaric and I were a part of an English tragedy, he’d assured me that we were in an Irish story, not an English one. The Irish create their own luck. But sitting in this cell without Alaric, Scott, or anyone I care about feels awfully tragic to me.

  I glance at the bread on the plate. Soon the rats would tie on their bibs and sit down for a right jolly picnic in my cell, but I just don’t have the stomach to eat anything supplied by Breas. I already feel tainted enough with his blood coursing through my body.

  If Scott were here, he’d tell me to eat so I could keep my strength up, but he’s off training in the Shadow Realm, most likely pissed off at Caer for opening the portal for me. I do feel bad about that. It wasn’t her fault for opening it. She only did what I asked. But Scott will focus his anger about his inability to protect me on Caer. It won’t matter that they were paired together in the Otherworld. Scott is stubborn. Not as stubborn as me, of course, but then, not many are.

  Without anyone to distract me with either their presence or their mind chatter, I reflect on the vision I had of Brigit’s shrine. The place I once thought of as Clayone’s tomb. I never considered that just because Clayone couldn’t leave his prison, someone else couldn’t enter. Would even want to enter. But that appears to be exactly what happened.

  The night Alaric disappeared, I assumed Breas took him or somehow cloaked him from my sight. I was blind. I wanted Breas to be the villain. The only villain.

  Turns out the world is filled with monsters. And if our world didn’t have enough, the Otherworld and the Underworld teemed with them.

  But if Breas didn’t take Alaric it means that my nightmares, my visions from the Shadow Realm were true, and Lizzie did. She tortured and beat him until he despised hearing my name.

  But why would Lizzie align with Clayone? And how did they get to Ireland from Vernal Falls? I know for a fact that Lizzie didn’t have a passport, and even if Clayone had one tucked away in his back pocket, he’d been imprisoned in the church for fifteen years. It would have been way-past expired.

  A portal then?

  But they’d need a powerful witch, someone like Carman, to allow them passage. And the celestial timing would need to be right—like the night of Samhain. Which I guess is possible . . .

  If Clayone could communicate with the outside world while imprisoned in my shrine, it stands to reason that he communicated with people when he was stuck at the church in Vernal Falls. Maybe he wasn’t cut off from the rest of the world like Gram, Dad, Clarissa, and the rest of the coven assumed. It’s possible Carman and Clayone had communicated with each other all along.

  But when he showed up at Brigit’s old ruins on Samhain, it didn’t seem like he and Carman were on the best of terms. Or perhaps I managed to trick him into believing Carman wasn’t telling him her master plan. Could I have compelled him into believing me and distrusting Carman? Was I that powerful? I’ve seen Scott work miracles with his sweet words. Maybe I possess the ability too.

  So, if Carman was helping Clayone, he and Lizzie could have come through the portal together on Samhain. But that still doesn’t explain how Breas got to Vernal Falls from the Otherworld or how he returned to Ireland. He didn’t take the Gods R Us Express.

  When would Carman have had enough power to open a portal from the Otherworld for him? Lughnasadh in August was over. Samhain wasn’t until the end of October.

  Holy shit.

  The fall equinox.

  She opened the portal during the fall equinox. Breas arrived in Vernal Falls in the middle of September. The veil between the worlds would have been close to its thinnest, and if there was a celestial event, it would have been enough power to open it.

  But when he arrived on our doorstep, Dad and Gram would have suspected that someone opened the Otherworld door for him. Did they think there was a good witch who opened it? Perhaps Clarissa? She told me that she used a portal to travel to Vernal Falls from Kildare, though it was only open to those from Brigit’s bloodline. Maybe they thought she opened one from the Otherworld for him.

  That would make sense since they welcomed Breas into our homes without reservation. They even encouraged me to spend time with him. They knew nothing about Breas’s relationship with Carman. They didn’t know he’d betrayed the Tuatha Dé Danann and had hidden his alliance with the Fomorians as my vision of the day he slaughtered thousands in order to get Brigit to bring her Vessel of Life suggested.

  And what about Alaric? I was only aware of Alaric following me in Vernal Falls after Breas had arrived. Based on the way those two acted when they met at the fairy mound in Kildare, they certainly hadn’t passed through a portal holding hands e
ither coming or going.

  They were both gone by the camping trip though . . .

  Something wasn’t adding up. There wouldn’t have been enough power to open a portal after the fall equinox until the next full moon. There was one at the beginning of October, but that was the night Ryan attacked me, and that was after the camping trip. Breas and Alaric were already gone by then.

  I growl in frustration. How did Carman open a portal? I’m still missing something.

  Deep breaths, Gigi, deep breaths.

  Think.

  When Alaric told me about the Sacred Well of Brigit, he’d said that wells and other magical spots used to exist throughout Ireland. Is it possible there’s another permanent portal aside from the one for Brigit’s heirs? Basically an open door between Vernal Falls and Kildare? That would explain how Clayone had arrived in Vernal Falls when I was a baby.

  If this permanent portal does exist, does it allow entrance to other worlds too? And do Clarissa and Granda know about it?

  Now back to the Carman-Clayone-possession-of-Lizzie thing. It was Carman who first possessed Lizzie with the eyeball necklace. Carman who led Lizzie to torture Kensey. Carman who pretended to work at the Cathedral’s library and befriended me. The witch has been three steps ahead of everyone—gods and supernatural beings alike. During the Super Blue Blood Moon of Samhain, she probably put up a flashing red sign at the permanent portal that said “This Way to the Reincarnated Brigit’s Demise.”

  Carman, that evil witch.

  Did she call Alaric back to Ireland because she sensed his growing affection for me? Or because she was worried that if he found out about Clayone, he would no longer be as pliable?