Goddess Forsaken: A Fated Guardian Paranormal Romance (Rise of the Lost Gods Book 1)

by Nicole Hall

  Lindsey

  Maybe next time… The words repeated over and over in her mind as she strode to the front of the store. Lindsey waved at Kora, using the diversion to get a look at Dax’s lady friend.

  She stood at an angle next to the counter, so Lindsey couldn’t see much of her face. She noted long blonde hair falling around a willowy figure in a flowy summer dress, small boned but with fantastic legs that seemed to take up most of her body.

  Kora continued talking to the mystery lady, and Lindsey noticed a book clutched in the lady’s arms. Maybe this wasn’t the friend Dax was supposed to meet. Kora seemed happy enough to see her.

  Curiosity got the best of Lindsey, and before she moved past the big front windows, she turned back for another glimpse. Dax had joined them by the counter, and the blonde woman faced him with her back to the window. Still not a great view. Lindsey’s gaze shifted inadvertently to Dax, and she met his eyes as he watched her walk away.

  She didn’t react outwardly, but her heart pounded at the promise in that look. Next time.

  Lindsey drove home on autopilot, but the dark house reminded her that she’d had words with Calliope before she’d left that morning. She scowled. The cat would be ecstatic that she’d given in to her feelings for Dax. Even if they were tentative and mostly sexual.

  After dropping off her purse in the kitchen, Lindsey headed for the workshop in the garage. She didn’t want to meditate or envision glowing lights or whatever Calliope would suggest she do. Sabine had mentioned they stored their broken appliances and things in the workshop and given her free rein to tinker.

  Sabine’s dad had built the room from part of the garage something like thirty years before, but the walls and tables seemed solid. Storage took up one whole wall with drawers and open shelves covered in dusty relics. It had one tiny window, and she suspected it had never been cleaned. No problem, since the switch turned on the bright overhead light and a couple of task lamps hung over the workbench.

  Lindsey cracked her knuckles and breathed in the welcome scent of oil and sawdust. This room had history, what with the racks of odds and ends from multiple generations. A twinge of longing wound its way through her at the obvious representation of Sabine’s family, but she moved past it.

  What was the point? Anyone could collect old junk, and eventually someone would come clean this place out. Nothing lasted. Living in the moment would have to be enough. A radio old enough to have a tape deck sat in the corner, and she smiled as she cranked it up. Classic rock, perfect.

  The room so exactly fit what she needed that Lindsey wondered if Sabine didn’t have a little psychic premonition thing happening. She flipped the lock and gathered her tools to get to work.

  Fifteen minutes into messing with a Bluetooth speaker, Lindsey knew she wasn’t alone.

  Are you going to fix that?

  Lindsey glanced down at the cat who had somehow gotten through the locked door to join her in the workshop. “It’s not a hard repair. And Sabine is letting me stay here for free, so I might as well help where I can.”

  You’re helping in other ways.

  “Sure.” She’d finally gotten all the inside parts of the speaker cleaned, but the battery looked sketchy. As she suspected from the water damage on other parts, the connecting parts of the wires had corroded. They’d probably left it out in the rain.

  You’re helping me.

  “I still don’t understand what you really want from me.”

  I want you to bond with your guardian, learn to use your magic, and assist me in restraining the gods as I did before.

  Lindsey snorted out a dry laugh. “You mean the magic that only shows up at the worst times? At least Dax can do his job without needing training wheels.”

  Calliope hopped onto the bench and pawed at a loose screw until it clattered to the floor. The bond takes time to solidify.

  Lindsey put down her screwdriver to glare at the troublesome feline. “Are you naturally an asshole or have you been a cat so long you can’t help yourself?”

  She sniffed a canister of sealant then sneezed. That’s a pretty bold statement coming from someone who does need training wheels.

  Rewiring the speaker wouldn’t help unless she got a new battery for it, so Lindsey set it aside while she reined in her temper. “I came out here to be alone for a while.”

  Too bad. You’ve been gone all day. Did you learn anything helpful?

  She’d learned that given enough time, Dax could probably convince her to get naked in public. The possessive look in his eyes as he’d watched her leave sent a shiver over her skin. His lady friend had stood in front of him with her perfect posture and her mile-high legs, and he’d stared right past her.

  The way she’d clutched that book though… She’d wrapped her arms around the words and herself in a white-knuckled grip. Pretty pink nails to match her dress, but her hands gave her away. For the first time, Lindsey wondered what she’d needed with Dax, and how Dax knew her. Kora too, for that matter.

  Back when she’d been chasing people instead of objects, she’d seen a lot of women with hands like that. Perfectly manicured, but desperate when no one was looking. Lindsey spread her fingers and laid her palms flat on the workbench. Scars and injuries criss-crossed her hands. Short, unpainted nails didn’t draw attention or get in the way of her work. Heavy calluses roughened her palms.

  She hadn’t been desperate in a lot of years.

  Calliope nudged her arm, and Lindsey jumped. You didn’t answer my question.

  What had she learned? “I saw Dax’s lady friend.”

  The cat watched her without reacting. And Dax?

  “Yes. I talked to Dax. We looked at magic books together. He’ll be home later tonight.” At least, she assumed he’d be home.

  How much had that kiss changed their situation? Would he call if he was going to be late? Were they supposed to check in with each other? Lindsey shook her head. Relationships were exhausting.

  Why wasn’t the one with Sabine this confusing? Lindsey grabbed the speaker again, then studied the creature who’d started this mess—the same one currently bathing while lying in thick grey dust.

  “What are the chances that Sabine and I became friends because of this demigod thing?”

  She paused in her licking to blink at Lindsey’s question. Highly likely. It’s instinctual you would feel drawn to each other. Like you are with Dax. Think of it like vibrating on the same wavelength.

  There was a whole lot more than vibrating happening with Dax. Better to skip past that part of the explanation. “Will I feel the same way with other demigods?”

  Most likely.

  Lindsey fiddled with the screwdriver. Calliope had given her the answer she expected, but she’d shied away from the real question bothering her. Now that she’d made some kind of commitment to Dax—though they still hadn’t set any ground rules—she should stop ignoring the concern. And stop hiding from the answers.

  “What about other guardians? Would I feel drawn to them too? Or would they be drawn to any demigod?”

  The cat sat up, apparently as clean as she’d get. I’m not sure, but you might be able to answer that. Do you feel a pull to Alex?

  Lindsey thought back to the few times she’d met him in person. He was attractive, yes, but in a distant way. She could acknowledge his hotness without wanting his hands on her. That was not the situation with Dax.

  “No.”

  What about Sabine and Dax?

  Possessive jealousy tried to make her thoughts sharp, but Lindsey had seen Sabine and Alex together. They were…a unit. She couldn’t think of a better way to describe their dedication to each other. Lindsey rubbed her chest to try to relieve the small ache there. What would it feel like to be that connected? To know—absolutely, without doubt—that her partner would put her first.

  “I’ve never seen Sabine and Dax together, but she’s only ever wanted Alex.”

  Based on your data, it appears the guardian-demigod connection is
specific.

  Lindsey snorted. “My data is severely limited. I wouldn’t call that definitive.”

  Calliope jumped down from the workbench to explore the shelves. Call it what you will. I’ve presented you with evidence, and if you choose to believe the opposite, then so be it. That said, I don’t understand your aversion to logic. Humans are strange.

  “You’re the one who stepped in to ‘save’ us.”

  Not just you. A war between the gods would be disastrous for everyone.

  “But it wouldn’t be between the gods, would it? It would be between the gods and their kids—or at least descendants.” Lindsey gave up on the speaker. She screwed the lid closed and sat back, stretching her arms. “Petty jealousy seems like a terrible reason to start a war.”

  The cat tilted her head. You have a better reason? Aren’t most human wars started for similar reasons. One faction wants what another faction has.

  Lindsey understood that tenet better than most. People whose things had been stolen by someone else supported the majority of her successful retrieval business. “Still not a good reason for a war. Here’s a question for you. The gods have been free for months now, and you’ve only had one encounter. What makes you so sure they won’t just blend in to the modern world and live their lives?”

  Calliope popped her head out from behind a tackle box. Besides Apollo telling us specifically that he wanted the seal and threatening everyone?

  “I heard he only threatened you.”

  That’s because he was attempting to recruit Sabine to their side. Do you think he’ll simply give up and leave because he failed?

  “How would I know? The only magic I’ve had to deal with is my own.” And that had been enough to worry about. As much as Calliope stressed the danger of the gods, Lindsey hadn’t seen any evidence that they posed a threat. Much less that a war loomed on the horizon.

  She leaned back and spun slowly in the office chair. “You haven’t told me much about the Pantheon specifically. There’re twelve of them, right?”

  Yes. Think of them as people, with diverse and complicated personalities, histories, abilities. The myths passed down to today capture aspects of the truth.

  Lindsey dragged a foot along the floor to stop her lazy movement. As usual, Calliope didn’t offer any specific information about the gods. She’d thought she’d gotten used to that frustration, but fresh anger churned in her gut. “How can I protect myself from them if I don’t know what they’re capable of?”

  Your magic is equal to theirs even at their strongest. The current climate of disbelief only offers a fraction of the energy they previously had access to.

  “Except I don’t have access to my magic either.”

  You will. When you stop fighting the connection with Dax. He’s the key to your lock.

  Before, she’d tried to ignore the familiar refrain, but recent events made her pay attention. “I’m detecting some serious phallic symbolism going on here.”

  You’re not wrong.

  Lindsey rolled her eyes at Calliope’s arrogant tone. “Assuming it’ll be a while before Dax sticks his key in my lock, what other options do we have apart from me? Is there another seal somewhere?”

  We don’t need another seal. The one we have will work fine.

  “It’s broken.”

  Don’t let the trick I used to hide the seal fool you. The power held inside it contained the gods for a thousand years, and it retains much of that magic.

  Lindsey jolted forward. “The seal is still juiced up? Why the hell would you leave something so powerful lying around with only two humans and a useless cat for protection?”

  Calliope straightened and lifted her chin. I don’t like your tone. We have two demigods, two guardians, and a former Muse protecting it. Against the weakened gods, those defenses should suffice. As they strengthen, so will we. Also, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

  Lindsey’s hands clenched into fists as she checked the urge to strangle the cat. No one would blame her. She hated that Calliope expected them to square up against as many as twelve gods without any kind of plan other than hoping their magic worked when it needed to. What were they even supposed to do with the magic?

  She imagined an energy battle taking place where they threw colored lights at each other with the intention of inflicting damage, like something out of a sci-fi movie. Assuming they could even locate the gods. The world was a big place, probably moreso as a spirit.

  “How do you plan to find the gods now that they’re lost?”

  They’re not lost so much as…well-hidden. I’m planning to use the seal and the presence of a group of demigods to lure them in, but not all of them scattered when the seal broke. I’ve felt the residual magic of one of them lingering in the woods. Before you ask. No, I don’t know which one.

  Lindsey tilted her head. “What do you mean felt?”

  Calliope crawled behind a box, but that didn’t stop her voice. Magic has a specific energy, like I’ve been explaining. It’s unique, almost effervescent. Remember when you touched the seal?

  “I could feel the bubble.”

  You should be able to feel magic anywhere you encounter it, but some are better at concealing the power than others. Teasing out the nuance of a magical trail takes a fine hand.

  A magical trail. Lindsey and Sabine had become friends on a forum for wilderness trackers. They both excelled at picking up the clues required for effective tracking, and though they used their skills in different ways, they’d found a lot in common. Something else she could thank the Fates for? How much of her identity had originated at the whim of others?

  Lindsey put the speaker back where she’d found it, then realized she couldn’t hear the cat pushing her way through the junk on the storage racks. “Calliope?”

  The locked door hadn’t stopped Calliope from entering, but Lindsey didn’t want to take the chance that she’d trap the cat out here. The amount of dust indicated that the room didn’t get used often. She checked all the drawers, moved the broken appliances, even put away all the tools that had been left out.

  Where was that damn cat?

  “Calliope?” She crouched down to scan the bottom shelves, but the cat had disappeared again.

  Several hours later, Lindsey panted through her last set of burpees and wished she’d stuck with her research in the air-conditioned house. Unfortunately, the computer couldn’t keep her interest. Following a trail of information usually soothed her as much as taking things apart, but nothing worked the way it was supposed to today.

  As time had ticked by, Lindsey hadn’t been able to sit still. She’d paced from her laptop on the dining table to the front window to the kitchen door, not sure what she was looking for, but not finding it. Her preliminary attempts to suss out any information on the sword had mostly confirmed Dax’s claim—a modern xiphos made to appear old for dumb tourists.

  She’d decided to work out instead, in the middle of the afternoon, in Texas. In June.

  Was it possible to die from being smothered by the air? Lindsey huffed out a breath that blew her hair away from her face. The oppressive heat was slowly wringing all the moisture from her body. She’d given up on her tank top, tossing it into a wet heap on the patio, while she struggled through the last few minutes of her regimen in shorts and a neon-blue sport bra.

  As she’d transitioned away from finding people, Lindsey hadn’t necessarily needed to keep up with her training, but the last job proved she never knew when she’d need to defend herself against an asshole with a pipe. A life lesson if she’d ever heard one.

  The anemic breeze blew hot air against her skin but didn’t seem to be drying any of the sweat. Lindsey stood on the patio, her hands on her hips, trying to suck in enough breath to merit one more set. As her heart beat slowed back to normal, she remembered Dax’s concern about someone spying on them.

  She walked to the edge of the yard, her sneakers silent on the sparse grass, and peered into the woods. There wasn’t a line
where the cleared space ended and the forest began, more of a gradual fade from purposeful to wild.

  Lindsey pursed her lips and peered at the silent house. She knew the feeling of being watched, and she’d bet a month of cheeseburgers she was alone right now. A quick look around wouldn’t hurt anything, and maybe it would give her top a chance to dry before she put it back on. She snorted. Unlikely, but a girl could hope.

  The trees grew close together around the backyard, and the brush made it nearly impossible to forge a path without losing some skin. Lindsey hissed as a dead branch scratched her stomach, leaving a long red mark. Even a wet tank top would have been better than half-naked. Another life lesson she should probably remember.

  After the initial fight with the bushes though, the forest spread out around her with a little more space. Lindsey turned and eyed the distance to the house. Not too far, and the wall of branches provided plenty of cover. A simple zoom lens would be enough to see into the house.

  Pressing her lips together, Lindsey tried to recall the texture of the magic around the seal. Effervescent, as Calliope described it, but with a zip—static electricity minus the shock. She rubbed her hands together, then feeling supremely silly, reached out to touch the closest trunks at chest level.

  The bark felt rough under her hands, but it was just bark. No magic tingles.

  Lindsey glanced over her shoulder at the house again and blew out a breath. She was working on a lot of assumptions here—Dax’s phantom creeper, Calliope’s magic trail, her own ability to feel magic she couldn’t summon.

  She hadn’t had to do anything special with the seal. The magic had existed, and she’d stuck her hand in it. The brush behind her made a damn good vantage point, but there were any number of other spots that would do as well.

  In the shade of the soaring pines, the wind seemed a tiny bit cooler, but the heat still roasted the vegetation. The smell of warm pine straw drifted up to her as she took a few steps farther into the woods.

  If she’d come to spy on the house… Lindsey turned completely and had to lean far to the left to see the blue siding. First, she’d make sure she had a good view of the smoking hot new guy living there. She hopped over a tangle of honeysuckle and past two trees to another fairly open area. From there, she had a great view of the upstairs windows, but the hot tub and the first floor were blocked by a wall of blackberry vines growing over a boulder.