Chosen (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

A
t the sound of the light knock on her bedroom door, Kyana slipped out of Ryker's arms and padded across the room.

“Tell them to go away,” he muttered, his words muffled by her pillow.

Kyana wished she could do precisely that, but they were still waiting for Silas to arrive, and if the Nymphs were bugging her at this hour, he probably finally had.

She swung the door open wide to reveal one of Artie's six-foot-tall Nymphs. “Sorry, Goddess, but you bade us to fetch you when he arrived.”

Kyana nodded and closed the door again, quickly using Artie's nifty trick to dress herself in proper goddess attire.

“When who arrives?” Ryker asked, sitting up and letting her silky sheet fall into a bunch around his hips, revealing the golden, smooth planes of his oh-so-yummy chest.

“Silas.” She fiddled with the gold chains around her neck. “Remember?”

“Right.”

Silas had been indisposed in the Mediterranean, leaving an antsy, irritable Haven in Geoff's care since their return. Kyana was sure Geoff didn't mind watching over her, but Haven probably didn't appreciate it at all.

Ryker moved off the bed, his hair tousled from sleep and sex, his eyes still bleary from the former. He looked so incredibly hot, it was all Kyana could do not to drag him back to bed and make Silas wait until morning.

She watched him paint on the knee-length tunic he was forced to wear here and hated so much, then fasten the broad golden belt around his waist that made him look like a cross between a WWF champion and Caesar.

He glanced at her. “Your lips are puffy.”

She grinned. “Because you need to shave.”

Rubbing his fingers along the golden stubble on his face, he frowned. “Sorry.”

“It's all right. I like it.”

And she did. The stubble had burned a path over her lips and cheeks and thighs, leaving raw, red reminders of the places his mouth had visited. It made her feel delicious.

She sighed, wishing they had more time to just
be
together like this without duty always hanging like a noose around their necks. “It's almost dawn,” she muttered. “We can't leave for the next cemetery patrol for another twelve hours or so. What a waste.”

Haven had insisted that these resurrections would occur between sunset and sunrise on whatever days Cronos was finding his soldiers. That meant they didn't have to be at any graveyard until dark.

She shrugged off the frustration creeping onto her shoulders at the thought of standing still all day. It wasn't as though she didn't have plenty to keep her occupied. While Silas was transferring his Witch powers to Haven, Kyana could spend this afternoon letting Artemis train her.

Determined to be productive today, she followed Ryker through the temple toward the hall where visitors were taken. Already there and waiting were Silas and Artemis, and both gave Kyana and Ryker their undivided attention as they entered the room.

Kyana beckoned one of the Nymphs standing quietly in the corner and arranged for breakfast to be brought in. She wasn't the least bit interested in food, but if she was going to train with Artemis, she would need a full store of ambrosia in her system. Besides, the others looked like they could use the calming effects the food offered.

“Finally,” Silas muttered. “I haven't even been to bed yet, Ryker. Why the hell did you summon me here?”

“Because I asked him to,” Kyana answered. “Or rather, Haven did. She's the one who wanted to see you. Did anyone let her know you're here?”

Artemis nodded. “Of course. Geoffrey went to wake her.”

Kyana and Ryker had left the bedchamber through the main door, altogether bypassing the private sitting rooms where Haven was staying. She hadn't thought to stop in and wake her along the way.

“While we wait for her . . .” Kyana sought Artie's attention. “Train me today? In every spell, every power you think I might need? What I can't master, I'll practice as I go.”

While platters appeared one by one on the long table, Kyana took a seat with Ryker beside her.

“You truly think you can learn all of what Artemis needs to teach you in one afternoon?” Silas asked.

“No. I don't.” Kyana reached for a wedge of goat cheese and stuffed it in her mouth. The sweetness of the ambrosia helped hide the tang of the cheese, and she swallowed, already feeling a little stronger than she had when she'd awakened. “But whatever I
can
learn is better than nothing.”

“You're a skilled fighter, Kyana, but you know shit about magic,” Haven said, appearing in the hall behind them with Geoffrey in tow. As Kyana looked from Geoffrey's tousled hair to Haven's disheveled clothes, she couldn't help but wonder just how close they'd gotten the last couple of days. Were they finally . . . Never mind. Kyana didn't want to know.

“Artemis can't teach you in a day,” Silas added.

Kyana didn't like either of their superior Witchy, magic-know-it-all-ness one bit. “She can try. Whatever I can't wrap my head around, you two can help me with.”

She could feel the doubts quietly gathering in everyone's mind and didn't need to be a Seer to guess what they were. She was the Order's hope? The same Vampyre/Lychen Half-Breed who'd turned her best friend into the monster who'd risen Cronos in the first place?

Once, not so long ago, Kyana would have thrived on the knowledge that she was the only one who could do this job. That she held so much power. However, the events of the last couple months had taught her that no matter how much power and purpose she held, there would always be someone else more important. Someone else who needed to be protected above her own life.

Right now, there were several, and one of them was watching her mindlessly chew on a strawberry.

As her gaze fell over Ryker, the tiny black strawberry seeds nearly choked her. His face was so soft, his profile so contemplative as he sipped from his cup, a thin layer of the wall guarding her heart crumbled. He was a very big reason for her determination to find Cronos and bury him for good. She found herself trying to imagine a world without Ryker in it and simply couldn't.

Whether she could save the world or not didn't matter. With these feelings stirring inside her for Ryker, even if the rest of the world was okay, she was already doomed.

“Ahem.” Silas poured a glass of ambrosia-laced wine and took a sip. “Gonna tell me why I'm here now so I can go home and go to bed, please?”

“Alone?” Geoffrey asked. “Or has Sixx returned with you?”

Kyana rolled her eyes at the mention of Silas's girlfriend. It had been pleasantly quiet without that Witch around. Granted, Kyana had begun to hate her a little less as they'd worked together to find Haven, but less hate didn't mean a BFF relationship had been born.

“I . . . made her stay put,” Silas admitted.

Kyana felt her eyes grow wide. Did that mean things were actually serious between the duo? That Silas wanted to keep her safe rather than chance her getting hurt here, with what they were all facing? Wow. If she'd thought of herself as commitment-phobic, Silas was the godfather of her clan. Was he really settling down with a dreadlock-sporting, leather-clad, big-breasted Witch?

Amazing how quickly things . . .
people
. . . could change.

She gestured to Haven. “Go for it, Haven. Tell him why you wanted him here.”

Kyana pushed her plate away and steepled her fingers. Knowing this conversation wasn't going to go well, but would likely be the most entertaining part of the long day ahead.

Haven cleared her throat. “Cronos has brought in some new forces and we need to level the playing field. I'm strong, but I'm going to need to borrow your powers if there's a chance I'll be running into them.”

Silas looked suspicious. “What sort of new forces?”

Haven looked away. “Mages.”

Silas choked, a cherry pit plopping onto his lap.

He looked around at everyone seated at the table as though expecting someone to laugh and tell him they were joking. But when his gaze settled on Artemis, his face lost all color. “What the hell is she talking about? I can't give her my powers . . . right?”

“It
is
possible,” Artemis said, looking apologetic.

Haven reached across the table and slid her hand over his. “You have enough mojo running through your veins as Poseidon that you won't even miss the Witch magic, Silas. Just hear me out.”

She gave him the short version of their run-in with Dark Mage residue at the cemetery. As she talked, Ryker stiffened more with each word, and Kyana cringed as he gripped her thigh, squeezing a bit tighter with each passing second.

So much for keeping the incident a secret.

She leaned over and whispered, “She's making it sound worse so he'll give up his powers,” she lied. “Now stop or you'll splinter my thigh.”

“We'll talk about this later,” he said, his teeth gritted.

“No we won't.”

Artie sent them both a silencing glare and Kyana pried Ryker's hand off her leg so she could pay attention again.

“. . . you can do without your Witch skills for a little while,” Haven was saying, “and it will keep me safe in case we run into these guys.”

The calmness in her voice didn't ease the disbelief on Silas's face. “I'm not going to be Poseidon for much longer. Giving you my gifts will leave me with nothing once this god's blood is out of me.”

Haven nibbled on her nail. “I'll give them back when we're done.”

“Right, unless you're attacked and they get a good hit in before you can get the hell out of the fight. I might not want to be a god, but I sure as hell don't want to be
normal
when this is over.”

There was so much disdain in the word that Kyana almost wished she could let him off the hook. For Silas, dead was better than normal. Normal was boring. Uninteresting. Not cool. And Silas thrived on being cool. At least most of the time.

But letting him off the hook wasn't an option. She had to keep Haven safe so Haven could help them bring down Cronos. She'd try her best to make sure nothing happened to his gifts, but it would be a lot easier for him to learn how to live without powers than it would be for Kyana to learn to live without her best friend.

“We're all making sacrifices,” she said. “This one is yours.”

He looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. “Oh really? I thought mine was carrying around Poseidon's powers while you searched for a sucker to take them off my hands permanently. Or maybe sending my girlfriend away so that I've only seen her once in five weeks and even that was interrupted by the summons you sent today. Neither of those was sacrifice enough?”

“Give her the powers, asshat, or the only sacrifice you'll be making is the permanent sort. The one we're all going to be faced with if we don't each do what needs to be done,” Kyana seethed.

Did he not understand that they were all giving up things that mattered? To think she'd ever slept with the tool was making her queasy. Silas had always been a little less than eager to face conflict, but she'd never really considered him an outright coward before.

He seemed to sense where her thoughts had gone, however, because he stood with a resigned expression on his face, then hung his head. “Fine. Take my powers. But Haven, imagine losing yours and what that would do to you and hold on to that feeling. Please, promise me you'll remain as safe as possible because when all this is over . . . if my powers are gone . . .”

He didn't need to finish. She knew what it would do to Silas to lose his Witchiness. He'd lose the part of him he loved the most, which was saying something, and would likely sink into a pit of despair that even Sixx's jiggly puffs wouldn't be able to pull him out of.

“I'll take care of them,” Haven promised.

“We all will,” Kyana added.

Silas nodded, digging his fingers into his eyes as though trying to pluck a headache out with a quick pinch. “Fine. How the hell do we do this?”

Chapter Fourteen

K
yana sat quietly watching Silas and Haven sit across from each other in the dining hall, their hands joined as Silas occasionally jerked violently and Haven sank deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. His powers rippled beneath his skin, making each passing second torturous to watch.

It looked like worms had infested his flesh, maneuvered by blue lighting as tiny sparks shot from his pores into the air, before being sucked into Haven's body. This process had already gone on an hour, and according to Artemis, could take several more. No quick chanting of spells for this one.

Instead, it was as tedious as a human surgical procedure and Kyana was done watching.

“Let us know when it's over,” she said to Ryker, queasy and slightly dizzy at the thought of what it felt like to be Silas or Haven at that moment. To be giving away part of what you were, or to be receiving something that wasn't yours at all.

She glanced at Artemis. “Time to train.”

Artemis gave a nod and followed her out, leaving Ryker and Geoff to sit with the Mystics overseeing the transfer of magic. When Artemis pulled out a bow and quiver, Kyana groaned and reconsidered going back to watch the goings-on inside. Might be less long, tedious, and nauseating.

Artemis had been trying to teach her the art of archery since becoming a goddess, and so far, she hadn't proved to be a brilliant student. She still preferred her fists and daggers to the complicated bow that required far too much precision in the middle of a spontaneous need to defend herself. But Artemis had insisted that a huntress without a bow was doomed to failure.

Kyana sighed and turned the bow over in her hand. She had asked for this training. She wanted to learn as much as possible. She'd just forgotten about the damned bow.

“These are different, Kyana,” Artemis said, looking somewhat put off by the disappointed expression Kyana was certain she was wearing. “This bow was made by the Cyclopes and precision shouldn't be an issue for you anymore. Hephaestus assured me he coated the arrows with gold-plated crystals that will lead them directly to the vulnerable targets on your prey.”

Kyana fondled an arrow. “Well, that explains why they're so warm . . . and heavy. When did you have time to request special weapons for me?”

Artemis smiled. “About five minutes after our first lesson proved you weren't very . . . shall we say, adept? I went straight to Hephaestus and he made my request a priority.”

The God of the Volcanoes was a magnificent craftsman, and Kyana had admired his work for years, particularly in the work of Helios's chariot and the specialized swords he crafted for the sentinels. Now she had her very own weapon made personally by him. If nothing else, that knowledge made her want to learn how to use it.

Still, the crystal charms glittering on the arrows in the early morning sunlight made them even more awkward than the normal ones Artemis had first begun training her with. A lot heavier and bigger to tote.

“Not to sound unappreciative or anything, but can we lighten their weight or something? Carrying these around all the time is going to be a bitch,” she muttered. “And you only gave me three arrows. What if I can't retrieve them after I've shot them?”

“When the third arrow is used, all three will reappear in the quiver.” Artemis took the bow and shot the arrows at once into a large willow nearly fifty feet away in her courtyard. All three hit directly in the center of the trunk, and a second later, the arrows in the tree vanished and the quiver was full again.

“Nice, but I've seen you shoot before. You could have managed that with toothpicks.”

Artemis folded her arms over her chest, a smug, knowing look on her regal face that brought Kyana's curiosity to the surface.

“You try.”

“There has to be something more useful you can teach me. Something more magical. I already know how to fight. I need to know how you track.” Kyana placed the arrow in the bow and pulled back. “I'm winging it without my Lychen blood.”

She concentrated on the little marks in the willow where Artemis's arrows had struck before returning to the quiver and fired. Bull's-eye. “Wow.”

Artemis smiled and reached out to tug the chain that hung around Kyana's neck until the arrow conduit popped free from her dress. She gripped Kyana's bow and quiver in her other hand and muttered, “
Unesco
.”

The quiver and bow vanished and the conduit around Kyana's neck glowed bright amber for a quick second before returning to its normal state.

“What did you do?”

“When you don't need them, keep them in the conduit as I just did. To retrieve the bow again, simply will them into your hand and say,
Separo
. It works much like your dogs.”

Kyana was going to have to start carrying around a memo pad—or maybe one of those spiffy voice recorder things now that she could get near electronics without her Lychen brain exploding. Anything would be helpful to keep a record of everything Artie had told her at this point. Kyana didn't speak Latin, or goddess for that matter. Still, she locked the words away and prayed they'd come to her when she needed them.

“As for the other things you requested to know, there are a few I can show you,” Artemis said, “but I am not proud of them. They are things you must learn eventually, but I fear teaching you now . . . you'll use them in ways not meant to be.”

“Still think I'll go off half-cocked every time something doesn't go my way? Haven't I proved that I'm not so impulsive these last few weeks?”

Artemis smiled. A breeze picked up, scattering leaves across her perfectly groomed garden, which were immediately swept up by invisible hands and deposited over the cliffs behind the temple.

“You've a quick mind, Kyana. And yes, I've seen a calm develop in you that is new. Whether it's due to my blood or to Ryker's presence in your life, I'm not certain, but it's a pleasant side of you to be sure.”

Kyana squirmed, uncomfortable that others could see how much she'd softened when it came to Ryker. She wasn't sure what he meant to her yet, and she didn't want anyone else to make assumptions about them that would add to his assurances that they were “meant to be.”

“Just teach me,” she muttered, happy for a change in topic. “I won't go off half-cocked.”

Artemis sat on the last step of her temple and stretched out her legs, burying her sandaled toes into the plush grass. “Watch.”

She raised her hand to the sky and was immediately greeted by a dove that settled into her palm. She closed her eyes, covered the dove with her free hand, and when she revealed the bird again, she trailed one finger down the length of its body. A path of black followed her fingertip, white feathers darkening, then falling to the ground. Soon, the bird was left naked save for a purplish body that looked anything but natural. The bird spasmed and fell limp in Artemis's palm.

“You killed it?” Kyana's disbelief forced the words out more loudly than she'd desired. Artemis protected all things in nature, and yet here, in her own temple gardens, had killed a beautiful, innocent bird.

“Killing. Not killed. Watch.” This time, Artemis drew her finger from tail to head. The purple was soon covered with blackened feathers again, which turned white as snow the minute Artemis's finger reached the crown of the dove's head. It stood, chirped, then soared back into the air to safety, circling overhead once before disappearing into the forest surrounding the gates of the temple.

“What the hell was that?”

“As I said, I am not proud of everything required of me as an Ancient. I hadn't wanted to teach you this until much later, given there should be no need for it with the human population cut in half these days.” Artemis held out her hands and allowed her Nymphs to wash them clean while she studied Kyana. “There are but a few of us capable of what you just witnessed. Bearers of the plagues and diseases that have stripped down the human population when it became necessary to do so. The black plague, leprosy. Even rabies, though I admit that was my first such experiment and it went awry. We've yet to figure out how to cure that one.”

As the Nymphs finished and moved to once again stand behind their mistress, Kyana tried to find her voice. When she managed, it came out in a squeak. “You . . . created leprosy? Whoa.”

“No, Ares did. Hera is responsible for the plague, though we shared the powers and all three of us can do each disease. Blessedly, there's been no call for such duties in a very long while.”

“And you're teaching me this why?”

“Because I can control the process. They are contagious because it was our way of pruning the population. We no longer use this method. In fact, we are rarely responsible for contagious outbreaks anymore, but since your knowledge of magic is lacking, this is one you can master quickly, and it will give you another weapon to add to your limited arsenal. It's possible to infect a body with the disease and kill them instantly, making certain it dies with them rather than spreading amongst those who don't deserve it.”

“So everyone who died of the plague or leprosy or rabies deserved it?”

Artemis's brow furrowed. “Certainly not. It is why we do not resort to such things anymore. Too many undeserving beings caught the epidemics and died along with those we'd chosen. We'd hoped they would spread only to their circle of miscreants and criminals. We were wrong.”

Nothing new there. The gods of Olympus had been wrong very often, sad to say. If humans had any idea how fallible they were, there'd be no trust at all. But the deeper this knowledge seeped into Kyana's brain, the more interesting it became. Just thinking of putting her hands on Cronos's lackeys and instantly killing them with disease was appealing in many ways.

Namely, she wouldn't have to rely solely on the bow and arrows.

This cheered her considerably. “Show me how to do that.”

Artemis must have read the eagerness in Kyana because the goddess frowned and slowly shook her head. “This is not to be used lightly. If you're not careful—”

“I won't use it on a whim, promise.” Kyana sat on the step beside Artemis. “But it's the most useful tool you've shown me in weeks.”

Artie's frown deepened. “I've shown you how to grant the gift of life with fertility and you focus on death as the greatest tool? You're not Dark Breed anymore, Kyana. It's time you stop looking at death as your duty.”

If not for the seriousness in Artie's eyes, Kyana would have laughed. She spent two hundred years as a hunter. Spent eighty of those years going after the Order's most dangerous prey. Now she'd spend the next several thousand or so as the Goddess of the Hunt. Death was a part of Kyana and always would be.

“Show me.”

With a sigh that carried the weight of her decision, Artemis nodded. “Hold out your hand. The creatures here will instinctively trust you.”

Kyana did as instructed and held her hand to the grass. A small brown mouse skittered out of the bushes next to the steps and climbed into her waiting palm. So much trust, especially from something so small and vulnerable, baffled her. Maybe it was just humans and those who had once been human who had the natural instinct to doubt and mistrust everything. Some called it the survival of the fittest or self-preservation. Kyana just figured it was part of her nature to expect the ill intentions of others before they could kill her.

She ran her finger over the mouse's little head. It stood on its hind legs, its nose twitching as it tested the air. For half a second, Kyana thought about releasing the creature and sending it on its way, but her need for knowledge overruled.

“What next?”

Artemis took Kyana's hand and gently covered the little mouse. “You must think of the disease you wish to inflict. It's possible to call forth any plague or disease you've ever heard of, however, I advise you stick with the three I gave you.”

Kyana glance at Artemis. “Why's that? If there are so many ways to inflict pain and death, why not use whatever is most fitting?” Considering she'd had a natural immunity to disease and infection most all her life, she didn't know a lot about plagues and diseases. But, for those following Cronos, she'd make it a point to learn the most horrific in history.

A faint blush stained Artie's cheeks. “Because being creative is how rabies was born.”

That Artie had a few mishaps of her own made Kyana feel slightly better about some of her own screw-ups. At least she'd never unleashed a disease on innocent creatures that killed man and beast alike. Not yet anyway.

“Do I need to concentrate on the word or the effects of the disease or . . .”

“You'll learn what works best for you. I focus on the dying. See the life being drawn out of them. It only takes a second to get the image in my head. Once it's there, I think, or say,
Sino in nex
. Then it's just a matter of trailing my hand over the parts of the body to be infected, transferring the image in my head into the victim's body.”

Kyana nodded though she didn't have a single idea how to pull off what Artie suggested. Sure, she had watched more than her fair share of people die, but it was usually at the end of her dagger or fangs, not from some disease.

“Death in general, Kyana. Nothing more is needed. The key is having the disease you desire in your head before saying the words. As long as you do that, everything else will take care of itself.”

Kyana closed her eyes and repeated the word
plague
over and over in her head. With it, she pictured the tiny mouse dying. Its little body being destroyed by the disease she whispered in her mind.

“
Sino in nex
,” she said, opening her eyes. Slowly, she trailed her finger from the creature's little brown head, over its belly, to its tiny feet. A thin, black line trailed behind her finger. The mouse began to quiver in her palm. Its fur completely fell from its body like pine needles in autumn before it flopped onto its side. Its stomach concaved. Its breathing sped up before becoming heavy and labored, its tiny mouth lathered in white foam.