Chosen (13 page)

“Don't go.” He hated the pleading he heard in the faint words, but could do nothing to make them sound less desperate.

Her gaze softened but her stance remained rigid. “One of the few things we have in common, Ryker, is our need to fulfill our duties. This one is mine. Don't interfere.”

“This isn't just
your
duty, Ky. Stopping Cronos falls on all of us.”

“My duty is not only stopping him, but keeping Olympus safe. That means keeping
you
safe.”

He wanted to shake her. “I don't need you to protect me.”

She gently tugged his arms around her waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “And I don't need you to protect me either, Ryker.”

Her voice was muffled by his body when she continued, “When you look at me . . . do you see the half-blooded Dark Breed you met ten years ago, the one you claim you want a lifetime with? Or do you see Kyana, or maybe just the Goddess of the Hunt?”

“You are the same person, Ky. There's no separating the three.”

“Yes there is.”

She tried to push past him, but Ryker couldn't let her leave like this. “You are a goddess, now. But you wouldn't be one if you hadn't been strong enough to defeat the Dark Breed that lived inside you for two hundred years.”

He leaned down and buried his face in her sweetly scented hair, wishing he could make her believe him. Holding her like this was as natural as blinking. She was beginning to initiate such intimacies, which pleased him more than he'd thought possible. The idea of losing her now, when she was finally letting the walls between them crumble completely, was unbearable.

He squeezed her tightly before she stepped away. She offered him a soft kiss to his cheek and whispered, “I'll be careful,” in his ear before making her way to her room and closing the door, a deliberate signal that it was time for him to go.

Chapter Eighteen

W
hile she waited for Ares, Kyana sat on one of the marble benches outside the portal alcoves and rested her head in her hands. Her temples were pounding and her chest was painfully tight. How could she have lived for two hundred years as such a strong, independent Dark Breed, and in one night be so quickly reverted back to a human victim?

“Mind using that nifty trick of yours and painting me some of what you're wearing?” Haven appeared in front of her, her fingers playing with the gauzy chiton Kyana had lent her.

“What are you doing here?” Kyana asked, snapping out of her funk. She looked around for Geoffrey, who was supposed to be minding Haven.

“Don't worry. Geoff knows I'm here. He's starting to trust me a little, I think.” The grin on Haven's face was genuine, even if the glint in her eyes was questioning whether Kyana could say the same.

“You can't come. Vampyre . . . sunlight . . . poof. Remember?”

“Yeah, 'cause that's something I'd forget.” Haven shrugged and plopped onto the bench beside Kyana. “Sunlight doesn't affect me. I didn't realize that right away, but as time wore on, before I was brought in, but yeah, sunlight not an issue.”

Kyana scowled. “How the hell is that possible?”

“You were two breeds . . . the Vampyre was prominent. That meant all the shit that came with your Lychen half wasn't as tuned as it could be. You know that. Same with me. I'm Witch. Then Lychen. Then Vamp. Other than strength and these . . .” She licked the small fangs that hadn't been there a few months ago before her Turning. “I don't have many Vamp traits. Not that you'll catch me sunbathing at the beach or anything.”

Kyana studied her for a long moment. Granted, she'd known only one other Half-Breed, but Vampyre was Vampyre, and sunlight was the ultimate no-no.

Finally, Haven sighed. “Why the hell would I lie? Think I want to be roasted? I can help you, Kyana. Don't be a stubborn ass.” She lifted the skirt of the chiton and let it fall back around her legs. “Now can I have different clothes or not?”

“It's girlie,” Kyana said. “You should like it.”

Artemis hadn't liked Haven walking around her temple in the jeans Kyana had painted on her before, and had painted the new goddesslike attire on Haven herself. At first, Haven had seemed to like the soft material. But now she was looking at it as though it was, gods forbid, polyester.

Haven raised an unappreciative eyebrow. “Expect me to fight in this? Really? How 'bout some leather like yours?”

The Haven of old had worn plenty of leather and denim so the request shouldn't have saddened Kyana as much as it did. There was something about seeing Haven in light pink, nearly transparent flowiness that kept her from remembering every two seconds that Haven had changed so drastically.

With a sigh of regret, she ran her fingers down Haven's back, then down the side of her thigh, painting on a white blouse and a pair of leather pants the color of soft butter.

“Boots?” she offered.

Haven nodded and Kyana complied. The black thigh-high boots topping the ensemble sort of made Haven look like a bumblebee pirate. Kyana kept that opinion to herself.

“Thanks.”

“Yep.” Kyana looked up to find Ares approaching, decked out in warrior garb from head to toe. Sword, tunic, chest plate, and helm. He looked ready to take on all the Spartans by himself.

“Find a working port near Jacksonville?” she asked.

There were several hundred ports from Below to different locations Above in the human realm, but only half a dozen or so that provided a return trip. Since the breakout, however, many of the ports leading out had also been disabled to provide the gods better access to knowing who was going where at all times.

“There's one about twenty miles away that I ordered the Witches to reopen. We'll have to take a quick jaunt, but it shouldn't slow us down too much.”

“Good. Let's go.” Kyana moved to leave, only to be brought up short by Ares's hand on her arm. She glanced down at the offending appendage, then back at its owner. “What?”

He pulled her away from the portal alcove and motioned to his Elite Guard. “This location isn't controlled by the Order. They go through first. Then, when I'm certain it's safe, you can pass.”

“You? Overprotective? I never thought I'd see the day.”

“You are a goddess now.” He pressed his free hand against the mark of Zeus at the center of the gate. “Certain precautions must be seen to.” His gaze jerked over her shoulder to land on Haven. “That includes your friend. She's
your
responsibility. She causes trouble, and she becomes mine. Are we clear?”

How many times was he going to tell her that? Asshat.

“Crystal.” Kyana sighed, missing the days when she was the protector and not the protected. “And Haven won't cause any problems.”

She looked at Haven for confirmation and received an eye roll in response. “Got a leash? You can stick it around my neck.”

Haven's sarcasm wasn't appreciated by Ares, but Kyana bit back a smile.

“Let's just go,” he grumbled, motioning for his guards to enter the portal.

Ares kept his hand on her arm, like he was afraid she'd rush the gate. The old Kyana might have. But goddess Kyana was becoming more responsible by the day.

It was a sad thing.

When his guard disappeared through the portal, Ares took a step toward the gate, and then faced her. “Step through immediately after me.”

“Will do.” She grabbed Haven by the hand and pressed as close to Ares's back as possible without touching him and waited for him to disappear.

She and Haven followed right away, the black wormhole turning to bright light. Her skin tingled with the chaotic energy as she traveled the portal. She was dumped on the other side, nearly toppling into Ares in her fight not to fall.

“As I said . . .” Ares gripped her arm to keep her steady as Haven rushed in directly behind Kyana, shoving her forward. “This is not our domain. The portals are a bit stronger.”

“Uh-huh,” Kyana muttered, already distracted by their surroundings. They were standing smack in the middle of a deserted main road across from a mall and a vacant Red Lobster. “Who the hell put a portal on a median in the road?”

“Someone with a death wish,” Haven grumbled, taking in their surroundings. “I know this area. Drake's mom lived around here somewhere. This road . . . busiest around.”

Maybe it had been, but right now, it was eerily still and quiet. While Kyana had grown used to seeing humans and Dark Breeds walking the streets of St. Augustine, here it looked as though no one had returned since the evacuations.

She pushed aside the unfamiliar wave of pity for the people who'd once called this area home, but she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to those who'd lived here.

“Which way?” Ares asked.

Kyana let her gaze roam over the destroyed restaurant and back across the street to the mall. She closed her eyes and drank in a deep breath, centering herself until a static charge slowly tilted her head toward the street that led to the mall's parking lot.

“That way,” she breathed, a smile creeping into her voice.

Artemis had told her that her instincts would gradually become more alive. She hadn't been lying. She focused on Cronos, and a magnetic pull instantly grabbed her as though sucking her entire being toward it.

Ares took her arm, preventing her from taking off in that direction. “We do not know what we're going to walk into. I need to know that you'll stop when I give the word. We're not going to charge into Cronos's camp without scouting the area first.”

In other words, Don't live up to your reputation and go off half-cocked.
Kyana nodded her agreement and gestured to the sentinels. “Can they keep up?”

Ares looked at his guard. “They'll be slightly behind us, but they've been given potions to help them accomplish their duties.”

She looked to Haven. “And you?”

Haven grinned. “Cheetah.”

It took a moment for Kyana to understand what Haven meant, then she remembered the tiny white kitten Haven had been in the Healing Circle.

“Wow. All right then.”

“I'll need new clothes when we get there.”

Kyana nodded. “Ready?”

She watched Haven kneel, placing her hands on the ground, much like the way Kyana always had when she'd shifted to Lychen form. Haven lowered her head and closed her eyes. Unlike when Kyana shifted, however, there was no growing and stretching of Haven's bones. Her body shimmered, then glowed as if her soul had captured the moon and was now oozing it from her pores. Gradually, the glow was replaced by tiny black splotches until the woman disappeared completely and an elegant cheetah sat at Kyana's feet.

“Impressive.” Kyana sighed, suddenly saddened at the loss of her Lychen abilities.

“It's an abomination,” Ares hissed.

Haven growled and Kyana chuckled. “Are we ready?”

As Ares gave the command to go, adrenaline spiked through Kyana's veins.

She followed in a blur of speed, glancing back occasionally to make certain Haven was still with them. She remained close behind, her golden fur glimmering beneath the sun as they sprinted down the middle of the road. Kyana held her focus, terrified she'd lose the faint scent she'd managed to grab as they passed a dozen chain restaurants.

The scent became stronger as they neared the end of the road and headed left down Highway 17. As they neared the Naval Air Station, the scent became so strong, Kyana had to stop to catch her breath. She was choking on a stench she knew far too well.

“He's . . . here,” she managed, bending to position her head near her knees and gulping in oxygen, still unused to needing it at all.

While she worked on breathing, she and Ares waited only a moment or so before Haven and the sentinels caught up. Tents were still set up, fires smoldered, and ceremonial platforms lay cold and empty.

Two things were painfully clear: Cronos had been there and they'd missed their opportunity to stop him once again. Haven darted behind a bush, and a moment later, she stuck her blond head out and called for Kyana to clothe her. Kyana complied, then rushed to get back to Ares's side.

“What do you want to do?”

A little shocked that he was asking, Kyana swallowed. Other than get here and kick ass, she had no real plan of action. It was that half-cocked side of her rearing its ugly head again.

“I need to see if I can pick up a new scent. Or at least try to feel him again.” She looked to Haven. “How 'bout you? Feel him?”

Haven shook her head. “But I do feel his . . . residue, I guess. He's definitely been here. It's like the place is covered in black aura. It's the same feeling I have when I wake up.”

Ares reached for Kyana's neck. She jerked. “What are you doing?”

He slipped the necklace from between her breasts and fingered the whistle dangling on the end. “Release them. They have a better chance of picking up a trace than either of you do.”

Feeling silly, she removed the chain, blew into the whistle, and set it on the ground. Her pups appeared in a glittery fog, yelping and wagging their tails in glee at their sudden freedom. They followed a path to the campsite and Kyana commanded the dogs to search. In a flash, the dogs bounded off in three separate directions. She hoped they knew to come back to her if they found anything since she didn't have any eyebright on her to watch them from her current position. She still wasn't quite sure how to use her new pets to their full potential.

While Ares issued the order for his guards to scout the area a mile in every direction, Kyana and Haven scavenged the tents. Knowing they'd find no one here didn't stop her from moving from one canvas roof to the next.

They approached the largest tent, presumably Cronos's, and Kyana glanced back to find Ares with his head inside a tiny tent on the far side of the camp and his guards scouting the perimeter.

“I don't really want to go in this one,” she admitted, her skin already chilled just from lingering outside it.

“Me either. Definitely his though. I can feel it,” Haven said.

“How long since he was here?”

She shrugged. “Less than an hour, maybe? I think . . . he knew we were coming.” She looked to Kyana with a worried expression. “What if he feels me the way I feel him? What if he knew to leave camp because he could feel me approach? Maybe I shouldn't have come . . .”

Taking Haven's hand, not to keep her by her side, but to offer support, Kyana gave a light squeeze. “We can't change everything we've done in the past couple months, Haven. But we can fix it now. If he was here . . . if he sensed you coming and left, then he's scared. And if he's scared, then he's not fully strong yet or he'd welcome the confrontation. But I need you to stop feeling so damned guilty all the time, all right? I need your head clear and in the game.”

Haven looked away, but gave a slight nod before she pushed open the tent flaps and stepped inside. Kyana followed, hoping she'd finally gotten through to her.

She stood in the tent opening, drinking in everything before letting the flap close behind her. Silver candlesticks atop a golden chest, which, to her dismay, was completely empty. A large, circular mattress covered in silk blankets sat in the center of the floor, rumpled and recently used. Even the tent's canvas was overlaid in gold. Hundreds of gold and silver pillows lined the walls for sitting. A tall, ornate chair divided the room and sat in front of the opening. From here, Cronos could look out over his minions, watch the entire campsite, rule from his damned throne.

A breeze ruffled the canvas, stirring up the scents of the now-dead Mehmet and Azime, and there was even the faint hint that Henry had once stood in this pseudo-temple. They'd all stood right here.