Chosen (2 page)

Chapter Two

P
eople ran from every direction, shouting orders, trying to put out the fires, and saving those who'd been trapped inside when the Healing Circle collapsed. The injured were moved to the streets, where soot-covered Mystics tended their wounds. In the midst of it all was Ryker. He'd only been the new God of Gods for a short time, but these people were beginning to look to him for their protection.

He wasn't letting them down.

He was so in his element that beneath the magically lit night sky, he even looked like the god everyone had counted on for millennia.

The only thing missing was his “Hera” standing at his side.

And right then, the only thing Kyana wanted was to go to him, to be his partner in all this chaos, but Haven's chattering teeth pulled her focus back to the matter at hand. She led Haven to a somewhat secluded bench, still close enough to the sentinels that she could call for assistance should she need it.

She waited until Haven settled beside her before asking the question burning in her brain since waking to find Hope standing at the foot of her bed. “How did you know what was going to happen?”

Haven pulled her blanket more tightly around her shivering, naked body. “For six weeks I've tried to purge that bastard from my blood, but I can still smell him. Still feel him.”

Kyana's muscles tensed, cramping and twisting her insides. She forced herself to breathe and to find a tone that was hopefully more Artemis than Kyana. Soothing and less demanding. “Are you feeling Cronos, or just the residual effects of his possession?”

Anger flashed in the depths of Haven's eyes, and Kyana couldn't blame her. So much had gone down in the last couple of months—most of which wasn't, at the root, Haven's fault, and yet she'd been shouldered with the majority of the blame. When Haven had been on the brink of dying from a murderous, Cronos-loving son of a bitch, Kyana had turned her against her wishes. After that, Haven hadn't been just a Witch anymore. She'd become half Vampyre/Lychen like Kyana.

Now Kyana was neither of those things. She was just a goddess. But Haven was forced to carry all three breeds inside her still.

That immense power had led to Cronos's possession of her. In that state, she'd been powerful enough to bring the dead god back to life, and now he was terrorizing them all from a world away.

But he
was
a world away. He had to be. There was no way for him to get off the island they'd left him on. Only two people had the power to travel there and back—Ryker and his father, Ares—and they were the least likely people to join the dark side.

“I thought it was just . . . whatever,” Haven said, drawing Kyana's attention back to her. “But it's getting stronger. Like . . . I can almost feel him breathing on me sometimes even though I know I'm alone.”

Haven ground her palms into her eyes. “I saw his lackeys come into this Circle tonight in my dreams. Saw his Mages plant charms around the building that would go off like bombs. I could feel his hatred, Kyana. I knew I was his target, and I also knew it wasn't just a dream. I tried to warn the Healers but of course they wouldn't believe me. So I did the only thing I could. I dreamed of Hope. I didn't know if it would work, but I sent her to find you.”

Kyana shook her head. She didn't dispute that Haven had seen or felt something but it couldn't have been Cronos. Yes, the ancient god had risen from the grave. But he couldn't get to them . . .

“He's trapped on that island, Haven. How could he get people to do his bidding?”

Haven glared at her. “He managed well enough when he was dead. Do you really think it's more of a challenge now that he's alive?”

Kyana swallowed.
Touché.

Even though he'd been dead for millennia, Cronos had been able to possess others to do his bidding. Others who'd murdered those meant to replace the gods as their powers faded, like Haven, who'd been Artemis's first choice as the new Goddess of the Hunt and had been nearly killed because of it.

“When we left that island,” Haven continued, “I felt like he was in the port with us. I've tried to convince myself that it was nothing, tried to get him out of my head, but . . . after this . . . I
know
he got off. I
know
what I've been seeing is real.”

Kyana stiffened. She'd felt something strange during that port too—something she hadn't thought to mention to anyone. Hell, she'd pretty much forgotten the strange pull she'd felt until now. But at Haven's reminder, the memory was suddenly fresh again, the fear returning with a sickening twist to her gut.

She tried to steady her breathing. “What did you feel? In the port, I mean.”

“
Him
. His hand on my arm. His breath on my neck.” Haven turned and watched Kyana closely. “He's not trapped on that damned island. He's here. In
our
world. And every day that passes, he's getting stronger.”

A hysterical sob burst from Haven and she shook her head. “I don't know where he is exactly or what he's up to, but I do know that he's back. He's really, really pissed off, and there are two people in this world he wants to make suffer while he waits for his chance to reclaim his throne. Me . . . and you.”

Determined to be the voice of reason, Kyana sighed and rubbed her arm. When her hands stopped shaking, she looked at Haven.

It was odd, sitting here, having this conversation after spending so many weeks with Haven as the enemy. It was as though they'd returned to being best friends and roommates, and she had to remind herself that Haven didn't deserve her trust again. Not yet. There was still a chance she was working for Cronos. If he had managed to get his minions into the Healing Circle to blow it up, there was no reason that he couldn't have gotten them to Haven as well. Why not kill her outright? Maybe the explosion was his way of freeing Haven. Of letting her loose to work for him once again.

Kyana put her guard right back in place and sat up straight. She would play along for a few more minutes. Test the waters. See if she could tell from her heart which side Haven was playing for now.

She cleared her throat. “Let's say you're right. How do we find him? More importantly, how the hell are we going to stop him?”

“I've been asking myself that very question since I started dreaming of him.”

Seeing a bit of the old Haven in the sparkle in her eyes, Kyana prompted, “And?”

“As long as I dream, we can find him. My link to him is still strong. I think that's why he's so pissed. If he knew his possession would create the link, I'm sure he figured I'd be imprisoned in Tartarus and out of his way by now. I think he's finally caught on that I can see him.”

“And what exactly have you seen?”

“I've been too afraid to look at much. But if he wants me dead . . . I think I'm the one with the power. I can watch and see where he is and what he's up to.” Her gaze dropped to her feet. “I can finally start to right the wrongs I've done.”

“Haven, you're saying you want to remain linked to the asshat who tortured you. Who shoved his way inside you and made you do things that could still very well end with you being sent to Tartarus if your trial doesn't go well.”

Even if this was a possible way to find Cronos, she didn't like it. If Haven could see him and he knew it, then he could prevent her from seeing things too. Which meant the next time his goons came after her, she wouldn't be forewarned. Maybe he could even confuse what she was seeing. Distort it so it worked
for
him rather than against him.

Or maybe it was all bullshit.

But she didn't think so. Her gut wasn't screaming at her to distrust Haven, and Kyana's gut was rarely wrong. “You do know I'm going to have to take you to Jordan Faye.”

Haven blinked. “Why?”

Jordan was Lachesis's replacement, the Fate who could find the truths within a soul. If Haven was lying about any of this, Lachesis would know. “You really have to ask?”

Haven's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “Fine. Whatever. I get it. I fucked up and now I can't be trusted. Take me to her, but not yet. Please. Let me show you what I've been seeing before it's too late, then you can get whatever confirmation you need to prove I'm not lying.”

“Let you show me? What do you mean?”

Haven's gaze searched Kyana's, a pleading desperation peering back at her. “You won't like it.”

More than slightly uncomfortable with the way this conversation was going, Kyana folded her arms across her chest. “Try me.”

“Morpheus.” Haven looked away. “He can make sure you enter my dreams, and together we find Cronos and figure out what he's up to. Then we come up with a way to stop him. After I see Jordan, of course.”

Kyana felt her face mold into a look of incredulity. “Not just no, but
hell
no.”

Morpheus was the God of Dreams, strange and creepy as all get-out. Going to him was about as appealing as skating on broken glass in bare feet.

“Hell yes.” Haven's stare was so self-assured, it looked a tiny bit insane.

“I don't trust him.”
Or you.

“No one does. But he can make sure you travel into my head when I dream.”

“In order to stick me in your dreams, Morpheus's Oneiroi would have to get into our heads. Not happening. They're
demons
.”

“I haven't shut my eyes once in almost ten days without him being there, Kyana. Not once. You think
demons
scare me when I've had the darkest god to ever live playing around in my head?”

Maybe not, but they scared the hell out of Kyana.

Haven pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. “Besides, you're a goddess. The Oneiroi can't taint a deity. If they could, Morpheus would be a raving lunatic by now.”

Kyana raised her brow. The God of Dreams was more than a little cuckoo. “He
is
a lunatic.”

“But not in the way a person gets when they're infested with Oneiroi.”

“You're willing to stake my sanity on that? Never mind. You probably are. But what about yours? You're
not
a deity.”

Haven drew her lips in tight. “No. Thanks to you, I'm not, am I?”

Kyana's stomach somersaulted. To say she felt guilty about that turn of events was an understatement, to say the least.

“Haven—”

“It's all right.” Haven's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “I'm not sure I have much sanity left anyway.”

“Morpheus is high as a kite and wicked to boot. You want him in our heads? Really?”

“It won't be him. It will be his—”

“It will be his demons. Even better.”

Haven pinned her with a stare. “Will you do it or not?”

Her shoulders fell a little and she sighed.

“You'll see Jordan the minute we're done?”

Haven nodded.

“Fine,” she said, feeling the urge to vomit. “Let's go see Morpheus.”

Chapter Three

K
yana used her new skills to paint a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt onto Haven before she froze to death, then dragged her through the crowd, avoiding the commotion and Ryker. She didn't want to explain what they were up to, didn't feel up to the argument she knew she'd be in for if she did.

It was easier to go now and deal with him later. If Haven was going to try anything, it certainly wouldn't be in the Underworld where Morpheus's domain was—a place she wouldn't be able to get out of if alarms were sounded.

When they rounded the corner and moved away from the chaos, she cast a sideways glance at Haven and asked the question that had been niggling her mind. “So what kind of Illusion Charm did you create to make yourself look like a cat? I didn't know you could do that.”

The stench of smoke and panic hung heavy in the midmorning air. Already the rumor that Cronos was behind the attack was spreading. The way people looked at Haven with suspicion and blame as they passed made Kyana a little worried for Haven's safety. If Kyana wasn't walking beside her right now, would they stop at just glares?

“It wasn't a charm.”

Kyana frowned. “I saw you in cat form. You don't
have
a cat form.”

Vampyre, yes. Lychen, yes. Witch, yes. There had been no cat in that equation.

“Apparently, I do.” Haven studied her chipped, unpainted nails—a far cry from the perfectly manicured French tips she'd always been so proud of. “The cleansings seemed to have killed the bitch in me. It was more prominent than the Vampyre blood you gave me, but my Witch blood seems to still rule.”

Trying not to cringe at the profanity, Kyana stopped at the cavelike entrance that would take them to the River Styx. The tiny word was proof that the Haven of old who screamed, “Darn it” when stubbing her toes hadn't returned completely.

“Okay, so the Lychen is cleansed. What's with the cat?”

“I've become a fucking Grimalkin, thank you very much. Only the tenth Witch in history to have it happen to, lucky me.”

The frustration on Haven's face relaxed Kyana a bit. It was a human sort of frustration rather than an animalistic rage. “Grimawhat?”

“Grimalkin. It seems I've become my own familiar.”

“It is . . . permanent?”

Rolling her eyes, Haven started down the spiral steps. “Like herpes.”

A snort escaped Kyana.

“Laugh all you like. But I can turn into any cat I like, and some of them are really big with really, really sharp teeth.”

That feeling of contentment Kyana had felt in her dream returned as they made their way to the shores of the River Styx and onto Charon's ferryboat. They were acting like the old friends they'd once been before Hell had ripped them apart. It reminded Kyana of why she and Haven had become such fast friends. Why they'd always been there for each other. Why she'd missed her so damned much.

Haven sat in the middle of the little boat and wrapped her arms around her knees. The scrutinizing gaze she held steady on Kyana's face was uncomfortable. “You're different now.”

“No shit. I'm a goddess.”

Haven cracked a smile. “That's not what I mean. You're just . . . I don't know . . . easier to read.”

“No I'm not.”

“Yeah. You are.”

Before Kyana could think of anything to say, they rounded the bend on the river and their bubble of contentment burst at the sight of Geoffrey towering in the entrance to the Underworld, two monstrous hellhounds on either side of the onyx chariot encasing him.

As Hades's replacement, he had to authorize anyone who wanted access to the Underworld, and judging by the scowl on his handsome face, he wasn't likely to give it today.

“She hasn't finished cleansing,” he said.

Like Kyana's, Geoff's Vampyric heritage had faded. But his changes hadn't affected the beauty of him, thank the gods. The only instantly noticeable difference was his long dark hair, now lined with Hades's silver just above each ear—similar to Artemis's amber curls that mingled with Kyana's own black ones.

He glared at Charon. “Take them back. They do not have permission to enter today.”

“Come on, Geoff. I'm not stupid. Why would I try anything this close to Tartarus?” Haven muttered, shifting uncomfortably beside Kyana. “I mean, when I'm not possessed.”

As Geoff's gaze fell on Haven, his dark blue eyes softened. It was Kyana's turn to shift uncomfortably. There was a connection between Geoff and Haven that had always been there, but that had seemingly strengthened over the last couple of months since all this Cronos shit had started. Something that made Kyana feel less like part of their original trio and more like an unwanted tagalong.

“She almost died today, Geoff. Give her a break.”

His eyes widened, his face turned a bit ashen. “What the hell do you mean, she almost died?”

Kyana sighed, wishing she'd kept that tidbit to herself. Now he was really going to fly off the handle. “Nothing. She's fine. The Healing Circle, however, needs a bit of repair work.”

“Someone blew it up,” Haven added.

A million questions were shooting out of his eyes, and Kyana cut him off, unwilling to waste the time required to answer them. “Let us pass, okay? We just want to see Morpheus. He can link me to Haven's dream.”

He snapped out of whatever fog of anger or disbelief he'd been standing in. “Why the bloody hell would you want to do that? No one visits the bloke.” His gaze swayed back to Kyana as he stepped off the chariot. “He's mental, and you know that. What could possibly be in her head that you'd risk romping with his demons to see?”

“She thinks Cronos is back.”

His gaze narrowed. “We
know
he's back.”

Kyana shook her head. “Not alive back. Here, back. As in, he got off the island.”

“And you believe her?” he asked, his Irish lilt making the incredulity in his voice sound a little less condescending.

“I'm standing right here,” Haven said through gritted teeth. “Can you at least pretend I exist?”

“Lass, there's no doubt you exist. I'm just never sure who I'm speaking to when I address you.”

Ouch
. Kyana glanced at Haven and watched the pain of those words hit her. Even more than having Kyana pissed at her, it probably devastated Haven to have Geoff acting so cold toward her.

He swung his gaze to Kyana. “What happened with the Healing Circle?”

Noting with a sigh that he wasn't going to let them get by without the details he wanted, Kyana gave in and rehashed the details of the morning.

By the time she'd finished, he looked as though he might be ill. His stare fixated on Haven, but Kyana couldn't tell if he wanted to grab her to hold her or to throttle her.

When he pulled himself together, he leaned into Kyana and spoke quietly, but urgently. “Maybe it wasn't Cronos. Maybe
she
wanted out of the Healing Circle and made it happen.”

“You think I did this?” Haven seethed. The hurt in her eyes dissolved into outrage. “I think I could hate you for that,” she whispered.

Geoff's eyes were apologetic, but he didn't look ready to back down. “I'm sorry, lass, but you haven't truly been . . .
you
. . . lately.” He returned his attention to Kyana. “Does Ryker know you're doing this?”

Kyana scowled. “He's not my keeper.”

“Maybe he should be. You've been through hell with Cronos,” Geoff said. “And you, Haven? Why go out of your way to seek him out after all he's done to
you
?”

“Don't you think I want him to leave me the hell alone? But he won't, and we might as well take advantage of it. After Morpheus links Kyana to my dreams and if she thinks there's nothing to worry about . . . then you can find me a new damned prison and I'll stay there like a good little girl and not cause you any more problems.”

“And you're okay with putting her in more danger?” He glared at Kyana. “If she really is tapping into Cronos, you don't think that's going to piss him off?”

“If she's telling the truth,” Kyana said, “then it doesn't matter. He's already pissed and already burned down the damned Healing Circle to prove it.”

Silence hung heavy in the air for a long moment. Finally, he let out a whistle and the self-driven chariot disappeared down the winding tunnel that led to the Underworld. With a silent command from their master, his hounds charged off as well.

“Fine,” he said. “But I'm coming with you.”

Kyana opened her mouth to protest but Geoff cut her off.

“Either I go with you, or neither of you go.” He looked from one to the other. “The choice is yours.”

Kyana studied him, trying to determine if he wanted to tag along because he thought Haven was
a
danger or was
in
danger.

“You really believe her?” he asked, finally.

She shrugged. “I'm not naïve. That's why I want to see Morpheus. Give Haven the chance to prove she's right, and then I'll take her to Jordan to make sure she's being honest about everything else.”

He briefly closed his eyes and gave a slight nod. Then he took Haven's hand and escorted her back to the middle of the ferry. The softness in his touch and the tenderness in his gaze when Haven pulled away told Kyana all she needed to know. His concern that Haven might try something was nothing compared to his fear that Cronos might actually still have the ability to reach her.

To
kill
her, once and for all.