Bedeviled (4 page)

Chapter Five

A
s Kyana and Ryker made their way through the streets of St. Augustine, he divided his attention between surveying their surroundings and watching Kyana. The changes in her amazed him. It wasn't just that she was taking on Artemis's attributes, like the auburn streaks that now lightened her jet black hair, or even the amber around her dark eyes that hadn't been there a few days ago.

What held him mesmerized was the grace in her movements, the confidence in her step that hadn't been there before.

She had always been confident and powerful, helped along by her ability to intimidate people into doing things her way. But the way she carried herself now demanded respect that had little to do with fear and everything to do with the goddess growing inside her.

He still couldn't believe the turn of events that had taken her from the brink of execution to the next Goddess of the Hunt. He'd tried to bargain with each of the gods to save her life after she'd turned Haven, but he'd failed. She was alive because of her own strength, and because of the belief others had in her abilities to right the wrongs she'd done.

He wasn't sure if she knew it, but she had it within her to save not only the human race, but the Order's world too.

He'd been drawn to her Lychen half when he'd met her ten years ago. Lychen mated for life, and when Kyana had offered him sex, he'd refused, knowing it had been the Vampyric half of her who'd tried to seduce him.

Yes, he'd given in a few days ago and finally made love to her, but he still wanted all of her, not just that promiscuous Vampyric side. He wanted the faithful Lychen side, the powerful goddess side, the fiercely passionate womanly side.

He wanted it all.

He wanted her to look at him with the same softness in her eyes that flickered when she spoke of Haven or Geoffrey. But getting her to offer that to him was proving to be impossible, and it certainly didn't help that his job was to stand between her and Haven if things got ugly. If he had to harm Haven to save Kyana, he damned sure would, but it would cost him any chance he had with Kyana.

His job sucked.

But like it or not, he was here to make sure she didn't let her emotions get in her way, which was the grandest of ironies given how badly he'd been hoping she'd tap deeper into her emotions since they'd met ten years ago. Now she was going to need that stoniness, that coldness that he resented if she was going to stop Cronos from rising.

He studied her profile as they turned onto her street. She looked calm, determined. That pleased him. If she became too stressed by what she was being asked to do, she'd become irrational, and he really didn't like dealing with Irrational Ky.

The small cemetery near her home was full of unearthed graves. Some had been freshly dug for new bodies after the breakout, others had been destroyed by the beings buried beneath the headstones. Leeches. Ghouls. Spirits. They were free now—at least the ones that hadn't been caught and imprisoned already. It was a disturbing thought.

Kyana led him past the cemetery as they followed a waist-high brick wall toward her corner home. The yellow two-story looked odd among the surrounding buildings. It was the only residence that sat untouched, probably thanks to sharing the dwelling with a Witch. They had more bells and whistles preventing break-ins than Alcatraz had for preventing break
outs
.

He'd been here before, and that circumstance had been no more pleasant than this one. He'd allowed himself to get drunk, and gods and demigods weren't exactly known for holding their liquor. One shot of JD and he'd been a mess. Kyana had brought him here to sober up, and they'd been ambushed by a group of Leeches, a.k.a. Zombies, who'd been attracted to his godly aura and had come to feed from it. Kyana had fought them, but she'd been caught in the morning sun.

He'd had to feed her from his own blood to keep her alive, bonding them together for a very uncomfortable day. He'd seen more of her past that day when he'd linked inside her dreams than she'd ever spoken about. She still didn't know how much he knew about her human life . . . and he planned to keep it that way.

While he tried like hell to get that memory off his face, he stepped back and waited for Kyana to open the door. She was getting better and better at reading him lately. Too much time spent together perhaps, and he didn't want her asking about anything he might be thinking.

But instead of entering her house, Kyana stood on the steps, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket, her gaze locked on the door.

“It feels wrong. She should be in there cooking those disgusting-looking egg white omelets full of alfalfa sprouts and mushrooms, and I know she won't be.”

The anguish in her eyes lulled him closer to her.
This
was why he was falling for her despite his better judgment. She wasn't all cold-blooded. When she cared about someone, she cared with everything she had. And right now, she was aching for the friend, the sister, she'd lost.

She leaned into him, and he tucked his arms around her waist and breathed in the flowery scent of her shampoo.

“We'll get her back, Ky.”

As quickly as he said the words, she pulled away from him. With a trembling hand, she opened the door. “Let's just get what I need and get out of here.”

She marched toward a bedroom behind the kitchen that he didn't recognize. “I thought your room was upstairs?”

Judging by the way her eyes went all soft as her gaze locked with his, her mind had wandered to the same day that had filled Ryker's. She cleared her throat and swept her hand to the small room they stood in now.

“This is a guest room where Haven and I share closet space. Anything in here, we're free to borrow.”

She disappeared inside the closet, and when she stepped back out, she'd changed into fresh leather pants and a vest that hugged her breasts, leaving enough cleavage visible to make him uncomfortable.

As she dug through a case of weapons at the foot of the bed, Ryker quietly slipped a pouch from the waistband of his pants and held it out to her.

“I was going to give this to you earlier, but with everything that happened . . .”

“What is it?” She took the bundle and set it on the bed.

“Open it.”

She unrolled it, and two handcrafted silver daggers fell onto the mattress. “My daggers!”

Ryker couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face at her excitement. “I convinced Ares it was time to give them back.”

Kyana tucked the weapons into her holsters before stretching onto her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. When she moved away again, it took all his willpower not to reach out and pull her back.

“Thank you,” she said, turning back to the weapon case to retrieve the flare gun she'd once used to gain entrance into the fort. He wondered if she knew she didn't need it anymore. As a goddess, she'd be allowed entrance without question.

Leaning against the doorjamb, he asked, “Anything you want me to grab?”

She shook her head, zipping up a duffel she'd filled with clothes and spare daggers.

Without a word, she made her way back to the hall and stopped outside another room.
Haven's
room. She pushed open the door. Ryker stood in the doorway feeling useless as he waited, watching her, giving her the space he sensed she needed.

It must be hard for her. To be here amid all these reminders of the devastation that had rocked her world. Of the friendship she'd lost.

He tried to relate, but friends for him were few and far between.

Kyana turned in a full circle, sniffing the air. “She's been here,” she whispered. “Recently.”

“You could be picking up on an old scent.”

“This is the same one I smelled at the Healing Circle. It wouldn't be here unless
she'd
been here since then,” Kyana said, closing her eyes, her nostrils flaring just a tad as she drank in the room through her nose. “She smells different now.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “All I smell is perfume and flowers.”

She shook her head. “That's not her anymore.”

“Why would she come here knowing you could show up at any moment?”

Her gaze narrowed and she worked her bottom lip between her teeth before dropping to her knees. “Move the vanity.”

He did as she asked, then watched her dig her fingernails into the loose planks and toss away the boards. Kneeling beside her, Ryker glanced into the hole. A lone silk pouch lay deflated inside.

“She's already begun,” Kyana said, falling back on her rear and scrubbing her eyes with her palms. She looked so tired, so defeated, Ryker wanted to wrap his arms around her and soak up some of her doubt.

“Ky—”

“She took everything, even her mother's book of shadows. She's going to try to do this, Ryker. If she's taken that book and her mother's most powerful spells, there's no doubt left that she's really going to try and do this.”

“We'll find her, Ky.
You'll
find her.”

Kyana wanted to believe him, but with her Vampyric and Lychen senses already fading, she didn't have the first clue as to where to look for Haven.

She plucked the empty pouch from the hole and made her way clumsily to her feet, pressing the pouch to her nose. It carried Haven's scent. Strong and tainted with what she was becoming.

She carried it into the kitchen, where she dropped it into a plastic bag to protect the scent before tucking it into her duffel. “Let's go.”

Together, they followed the faint trail back through Old St. Augustine a fair way before she stopped again. Frustration oozed through her pores like earthworms breaking surface after a hard rain. Haven's scent was gone.

The breeze had turned biting, breaking through her skin to rattle her bones. She tied her hair back with a band of elastic and pulled on her leather jacket as they approached the Bridge of Lions. They stopped beside the giant lion sculptures at the foot of the bridge, and she inhaled deeply, hoping against hope that some bit of Haven would be swept up by the bay.

Nothing but rotting fish greeted her, reminding her that time was a scarce commodity just now. The water around them was black and foul, and it wouldn't be long before every body of water across the world mirrored what they saw here.

“I knew it was a bad idea to let Artemis give me her blood so soon. If I was doing this whole, there'd be no question that I could follow her. How am I supposed to trace something I can't smell, short of kidnapping an Oracle to point us in the right direction?”

Ryker raised a cautionary brow. “We are
not
kidnapping an Oracle, so get that look off your face.”

“We don't have to actually
kidnap
one. But we could convince one to help us out. Or a Witch maybe. Haven was always scrying when she'd lost her keys or favorite lipstick. Couldn't a Witch help us locate the trident?”

He shrugged. “Getting to the Oracles isn't easy. We could try a Witch, but there aren't a whole lot left in the area. Besides, finding one with the power to tap into something as magical as an Eye of Power? I'm not sure there is such a Witch.”

Kyana chewed her lip, thinking. She knew of one Witch who might have that kind of mojo. An image of bedroom eyes and shaggy hair popped into her brain. Eight generations of Witchcraft in his blood. If anyone could do it . . .

“I know a Witch,” she said, unable to stop smiling. “A really,
really
good one. I can summon him.”

Kyana tossed her duffel over her shoulder, rejuvenated at the thought of using the Beacon Wall Artemis had shown her the day before.

Ryker froze. “
Him?
”

Her smile melted into a scowl. “Yeah. We're, uh . . .”
Booty call buds, old lovers.
“. . . friends.”

Kyana dashed toward the fort to save herself from Ryker's look of suspicion. This might get really uncomfortable, but while she hadn't seen Silas Godiva in many months, he was trustworthy
and
talented. She'd just have to deal with the discomfort of having both him and Ryker around for this.

Haven was important.

Kyana's pitiful sexcapades were not.

Chapter Six

I
t was just approaching noon when Kyana and Ryker made their way down the main corridor of Artemis's temple . . . and to another room down another hall . . . past another set of stairs. This place was bigger than the Castillo de San Marcos. Hell, it was bigger than the Biltmore.

She hadn't had access to the temple long, certainly not long enough to learn the many rooms and paths, but she did remember how to get to the Beacon Wall, simply because it had been the highlight of Artemis's tour two days ago.

“Whoa,” Ryker said, his reaction to the enormous wall pretty damned similar to the one she had expressed when she'd first seen it.

The wall was roughly the size of a two-story building, with small grooves separating rows of Beacons, and ladders separating each column. At least a thousand Beacons decorated the wall like necklaces, each one underlined with a golden plaque with the owner's name. They were arranged by “class” of Order members and then alphabetically, making it easy for her to find
WITCH / SILAS GODIVA
.

Her gaze drifted briefly over her own plaque, but instead of a Beacon, there was now a golden bow and arrow. She should have felt triumphant over seeing her promotion literally written in stone. Instead, a sad ache of longing knotted up her throat. Her past as she knew it was gone forever. This was the final bit of proof she'd needed to truly realize she was no longer Vampyre. No longer Lychen. No longer a tracer or an average member of the Order of Ancients.

She was becoming Kyana, Goddess of the Hunt, and she was smart enough to be scared out of her ever-loving mind at what that meant for her future.

With a sigh, she stretched onto the ladder and forced her attention back to the Beacon that mattered. Silas's golden bauble fell just out of reach, and she had to make a short leap to catch it in her palm. She landed beside Ryker, held up the Beacon, and grinned. She'd truly hated being summoned like a dog by these things, but now that she was on the other side of this wall, she couldn't wait to make it sparkle.

As soon as she closed her fist around it, the Beacon warmed against her skin. She placed it back on its hook, then led the way out of the room. According to Artemis, that was all that needed to be done. When Silas received the call, it would automatically lead him to where she was, and since she didn't think Artemis would appreciate a Witch showing up at her temple, it was best to venture Below to hold this meeting.

She chose a spot right outside the portal alcove Below where they'd be able to spot Silas coming right away. She had no idea where he was traveling from, but this was the region he worked for the Order, just as it had been Kyana's. He would never stray too far, would never leave his borders when he was on duty.

“So, who is this guy?” Ryker asked. “A friend like Geoffrey, or more?”

Kyana bit back a smile. “A friend.”

She didn't
want
to make Ryker jealous, but maybe having Silas around would be good for whatever this thing between them was. Maybe it would provoke him into realizing the one night they'd spent together could lead to a few more before either had to move on again.

Doubtful, but maybe.

Artemis might have been a virginal goddess, but Kyana sure as hell didn't plan to be. If her nights were filled with Ryker beside and inside her before they both got bored and went their separate ways, so much the better.

While Ryker's shrug was one of nonchalance, his tense face was anything but. “Of course. He's a Witch.” He smiled. “Male Witches aren't really your type, are they?”

“Not really, no.”

The majority of the male Witch population were skinny, nerdy, and whiny as all hell. She wasn't going to tell him now that Silas didn't exactly fit that mold. He'd find out soon enough.

“Ah, Kyana, you wound me.”

She jumped at the sound of Silas's familiar baritone and nearly kneed him in surprise when he leaned over her shoulder to kiss her cheek.

“Silas, thanks for coming.” He looked good. Damned good. Even in baggy jeans and a ripped T-shirt, Silas Godiva was seriously drool-worthy.

Kyana squirmed, remembering the last time she'd seen him many, many months ago. Naked. Sweaty. And on top of her. He was too arrogant for anything serious to have ever developed, even if she was the sort who wanted that kind of thing—which she wasn't.

“Heard you went and turned all goddessy on me,” he said, throwing a possessive arm around her. “Didn't expect a summons from you unless it was our usual kind, though.”

Kyana ducked out of his hold, suddenly more concerned than she should be with whatever was going through Ryker's head.

“Silas, you're a rude ass. Hi, I'm Sixx.”

Kyana swung around to find a leather-clad blond standing behind Silas, her bloodred lips turned into a pout as she held out black-tipped fingers in Kyana's direction.

Who the hell was she and why was Silas looking at her as though he wanted to get her naked and do very naughty things to her?

And for that matter, why was Ryker? He was practically panting. She shot her palm up, slapping his mouth closed. He bit his tongue.

“Ow! What was that for?”

Kyana glowered at him before turning back to the sleazy blond, making no move to take the woman's outstretched hand.

“This is Sixx,” Silas said, as though the woman hadn't just introduced herself.

Kyana took in Sixx's black-tipped silvery white hair, her bloodred bustier and torn leather pants. She radiated sex, and Kyana suddenly felt old and matronly in her intact leather pants and plain vest and jacket.

“Sister?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Silas had no siblings, and if he did, he'd be a sick bastard for looking at one the way he was looking at Sixx.

“Jealous?”

“Can we get back to business?” Ryker asked, leaning against the wall behind him.

“Right. Yes.” She jutted her chin in Sixx's direction. “In private.”

Silas whispered something in Sixx's ear, earning him a pathetic pout. She stalked off, muttering something about meeting him at Spirits, glancing back at him every so often to toss him a glare. Ryker and Silas silently watched her go, their gaze settled somewhere around her ass area.

“Nice,” she heard Ryker whisper.

“She's a beaut, right?” Silas's grin was wickedly cocky.

Kyana's hopes to make Ryker jealous were sadly backfiring.

She growled and stepped in front of them, blocking their view. “She'll be waiting awhile. You're going to be rather busy for the next few days.”

Silas raised his black brows. “This about Haven?”

She nodded. “She's in trouble.”

“I heard she went rogue.” Silas scratched his stubbled jaw. He knew Haven almost as well as he knew Kyana. Though, as far as she knew, their relationship hadn't turned as biblical. “How'd it happen?”

Unable to voice the story that cast her as the villain, Kyana gave Ryker a pleading glance. Thankfully, he seemed to understand. His fingers played with the small of her back as he recounted the past week to Silas.

“Haven was dying. The traitors tried to kill her when they found out she was meant to be Artemis's Chosen. Kyana turned her to save her. She had no choice.”

“Hell, Kyana.
You
did this? And they still made you a goddess? You're one lucky Half-Breed.”

She glared at Silas. “Don't call me that again.”

Silas grinned, studying her. “I like the red in your hair. Artemis's trait?”

She nodded, self-consciously touching a lock of red dangling over her shoulder amid the cloud of black curls. Ryker hadn't mentioned her physical changes so she'd hoped they weren't so obvious. Apparently, he was just unobservant.

“So, what do you need me for?”

“Right now, scrying. See if you can locate Haven. We'll figure out how to use you from there.”

The wind kicked up, tossing Silas's dark hair around his eyes. “Give me an hour? All I brought with me were the few things I could fit in my saddlebag.”

Kyana couldn't help but smile. “You still have your bike?”

“Would I travel any other way?”

She could almost feel the heavy metal of his Harley between her legs. The last time she'd seen Silas, she'd had about three orgasms on that bike. He'd tried to get her to take a ride on it, but because of her issue with motion sickness, she'd persuaded him to just let her ride
him
on it instead. She was glad he still had the bike, even though she was pretty sure she wouldn't be finding it as useful this go-round.

Ryker was too imbedded in her head.

It was a struggle to keep her gaze off Ryker as she watched him side by side with Silas. Whatever hold he had over her, it was stronger than her desire to replay old nasty bits on a bike.

“Ky?”

“Huh? What?”

Ryker was staring down at her, his brows pulled together in question. “I asked where you wanted to meet Silas in an hour.”

She snapped herself together and prayed her face hadn't flushed with her train of thought. “The fort. Get everything you need and meet us at the drawbridge.”

She scooped up her duffel and slid it over her shoulder.

“And what are we going to do in the meantime?” Ryker asked as Silas strode off toward the market strip.

“I'm going to try to tap into Haven again. I want to know where she's taking Poseidon's conduit.”

K
yana lay on the warm sands of the beach Below, her arms resting on her belly, her head on Ryker's thigh. Linking to Haven in hopes of finding a hint to their next destination had seemed like a good idea a bit ago, but now she was realizing she didn't know how to sleep on command.

“You need to stop thinking so hard.” Ryker rubbed his hand over her eyes. “Just relax, let your mind wander.”

She sighed. Instead of concentrating on an image of Haven, she lost herself in Ryker's voice. The low rumbling baritone drifted into her ears and spread a cozy blanket over her mind as the rhythm of his words vibrated from his chest against the crown of her head.

She'd seen Ryker angry, but for the most part, his total calmness was what she liked most about him. And right now, that calm echoed through his throat and out his mouth, shielding her from the stress that had been slicing through her brain.

She seemed to float off the sand and drift toward the clouds. She would have fought it, but that would have meant breaking the focus on the sound of Ryker's voice. The backs of his fingers brushing her face. It wasn't often that she was caressed so tenderly—touched so humanly.

She simply allowed herself to float. Up, up, up. Higher and higher until she realized the reason she felt like she was flying wasn't because of Ryker's touch or voice. He must have used some demigod mojo to make her sleep. Forcing her eyes open, she took in her surroundings.

Sure enough, she wasn't nestled on some cloud. She stood, instead, near the Bridge of Lions where they'd lost Haven's scent earlier.

A searing pain splintered her brain. She couldn't see anything for a moment, and in the next, she found herself blinking into the blazing, hot sun. The gleam of Poseidon's trident glared at her from the corner of a dark room. There was no sign of Haven, and when Kyana reached out to seize the trident, her hand slipped through it like air.

“Haven?” Would she be able to hear her? She racked her brain, trying to remember whether she'd ever heard her Sire, Henry, speak to her in such a state. She'd occasionally been aware of his presence, but she couldn't remember ever hearing his voice.

She sniffed the air, filling her lungs with Haven's perfume. She must have bathed since Kyana had last seen her. The sour, foul scent was barely noticeable now.

She pried her gaze from the trident and drank in every detail of the room. It looked like a shack, or a mobile home. She moved to the window. Outside, all she could see was a three-story brick wall. She wasn't sure how far she could venture from this spot without breaking the fragile link, and was afraid to try.

“I feel you.”

The hissed words spun Kyana in a circle like a dog chasing its tail. She could see no one. Nothing other than the yellowed walls and ragged carpet under her boots.

“Haven?”

“I know you're here, Kyana,” Haven said in a voice so cold and empty it held no part of the woman she'd once been.

Was she using a Cloaking Charm? Artemis had said her goddess juice would allow Kyana to see through such things. But maybe it didn't work in this state. More than likely, that power, like several others, wouldn't set in until she became a full goddess.

Shit
.

“I can't let you find me.” Haven's image flashed before her eyes and disappeared again like a candle flickering in the wind.

And just like that, the scent of Haven vanished as though it had never been there at all. Her heart in her throat, Kyana turned and found the trident gone as well.

Haven was on the move again, but wherever she was going, Kyana was more sure than ever that with every hour that passed, Haven was turning darker. If her soul became black, not even the gods of Olympus would be able to save her.