Before the Fall (9 page)

For Kyana, the longing made her woozy and slightly sad. For what, she didn't know. Desperately trying to place the desire kept her occupied as she made her way down the passage, but she couldn't remember a time, living or undead, when she'd been as melancholy as the nostalgic sensation that aroma evoked in her now.

As she approached the women, they stepped away from the cauldron and lifted their hoods in greeting. The middle woman wiped a tear from her cheek, her shaky smile not quite genuine.

“Kyana,” she whispered. “You've come unannounced.”

Much lovelier than Shakespeare's interpretation of them as the Wyrd Sisters, the Moerae, also known as the three Fates, peered at Kyana with youthful eyes. Their entire beings glimmered with golden dust, though that dust was nowhere near as bright as it had once been.

Kyana nodded in greeting. The beacon she refused to wear burned in her pocket. She was being summoned by an Ancient. More than likely, Artemis. But the Goddess of the Hunt would have to wait. Kyana wanted answers before she went anywhere. “I'll only need a minute.”

Clotho adjusted her long golden braid over her shoulder and fixed Kyana with a cold stare. Vamps were still considered outsiders, even those who'd proven their allegiance over and over as Kyana had. She prided herself on her ability to stare others down, to intimidate them with the quickest of glances, but Clotho's penetrating blue eyes forced Kyana to avert her gaze.

“Speak quickly, Kyana,” Clotho said. “It takes us far longer to tend our souls these days.”

“I would think your tending wouldn't be so tiresome, given the lack of human life Above. So many are dead.”

Tears welled in the Fate's eyes. “We don't need a Vampyre to remind us of our failures. We are faced with them every day.”

At least she hadn't called Kyana Dark Breed.

Uncomfortable with the tears, Kyana blurted out, “I found Jordan Faye.”

“We know.” Atropos, the eldest of the three sisters and by far the most menacing, tossed something green into the cauldron and gave it a quick stir.

For a blessed moment, that taunting, mysterious scent vanished and all Kyana could smell were the rotting waters of the River Styx.

“Of course you do.” If Jordan had died, Atropos would have known before anyone else. She was, after all, in charge of death, and guided those newly deceased to the river where they'd await their eternal fate.

“I want to know about the mark on her breast. Is she what I think she is?”

Scowling, Atropos raised a black brow. “You demand answers from
us
?”

“Not demanding. Asking.” Kyana softened her tone. “Is she one of you?”

The sisters looked to one another. The middle sister, Lachesis, began weeping again. Atropos and Clotho wrapped their arms around the beautiful redhead in quiet comfort. Again, the scent rose from the cauldron and twisted Kyana's belly. What the hell
was
it?

“You think we enjoy knowing we are to be replaced?” Atropos hissed. “That we are to hand over the duties we've been charged with for ten thousand years?”

The very walls shook with their combined anger. Kyana held her ground and remained silent. No one wanted to be replaced, but the Fates couldn't deny that their time had come. For more than two centuries now, Oracles had been professing that the power of the gods would soon wane. Since then, the Fates had been marking Chosen, making certain strong bodies were born on Earth, capable of absorbing the enormous powers of the gods when the time came to transfer them into newer souls.

That demons and other Dark Breeds now walked the earth was proof that the power of the Fates
and
the gods no longer held the strength it once had. Their era of reigning was over, and hope rested on the shoulders of their replacements.

Time stood still as the Sisters whispered comforts to each other. Kyana strained to hear the hushed conversation but her head was full of the powerful scent, the unknown ache, the wanting. The heat of the beacon seared her thigh, pulling her mind back from the hypnotic effects of the cauldron's aroma. Artemis's impatience over Kyana not arriving at the god's temple Below was burning a hole in her leather.

“Are answers the only thing you came for, Kyana?”

She flinched. Her skin itched. She needed to get out of here. Needed to clear her head. “Yes. No. I want to protect her if my suspicions are right.”

The Fates studied her, then one another, as though sharing a conversation she could not hear.

Lachesis, the weaver of destiny and the keeper of truths, dried her eyes with a lock of her fiery hair and addressed her sisters. “She is honest. Though I suspect her offer is not completely unselfish, she means no harm.”

To Kyana, she said, “You are correct. Jordan Faye is one of us. When the time is right, she will take my place. With her and the others like her, the Order will have a chance of winning the war you fight Above. But not until the time is right.”

Kyana shook her head. “And when will that be? The Order is outnumbered. We're getting—”

Clotho fingered her golden braid. “She must learn her way. Learn of who she is. Of
what
she is.”

“Who will teach her?”

“That is not your concern.”

“Then what
is
my concern? To follow orders? To fight battles we can't win? To save those you deem important, then sit on my hands and do nothing?”

Atropos's black gaze silenced her. “You will do your duty, Dark Breed.” A twisted smile contorted her face. “No, not Dark Breed. You're even more vile, are you not, Kyana? You're a foul Half-Breed who forgets her place.”

“Enough!” Clotho pressed a hand to her sister's chest, lightly pushing Atropos backward, out of Kyana's reach.

“It's all right, Clotho. I know your sister disdains my kind.” Kyana narrowed her gaze on Atropos. “
Both
of my kinds. Yes, Half-Breed suits me well, but it is both breeds within me that make me Artemis's best tracer. Without my Lychen half, I would be forced to wait until dusk to hunt like all your other Vamps. I go where they can't,
when
they can't, faster than they can. So we play nice with each other, don't we, Atropos? Whether we like one another or not, because we're
both
vital to saving your beloved humans.”

Atropos swung her gaze away, but her pinched face was proof that Kyana had struck a nerve. Even more than Atropos hated Vamps, she loathed Lychen. She thought the werewolves lacked the ability to control their animalistic instincts, and if there was one thing Atropos couldn't stand it was the lack of self-control. And since Kyana was both, the two of them would never get along. Kyana was the last Half-Breed of her particular kind, and the Order couldn't afford to lose her. That gave Atropos even more reason to hate Kyana. Aside from breaking a major Order commandment, there was nothing Kyana could do that would allow Atropos to get rid of her.

Checkmate.

Looking to the more reasonable, less bigoted sisters, Kyana pulled the conversation back to the task at hand. “What will become of Jordan Faye?”

Clotho sighed, weariness etched in the pocketed shadows of her eyes. “She and the others on our lists will be protected at all costs.”

“They should have been brought in when they were born,” Kyana grumbled. “We could have kept them safe until the time of the exchange.”

Atropos narrowed her dark gaze, the shadows of the cave making her look momentarily haggard and worn. “If they have not lived amongst humans and learned the importance of humanity, then they would never become fair and just to those who worship them. Humanity. Humility. They are foreign concepts to you, Kyana. I do not expect you to understand, but I do expect that you do not question our ways.”

Thinking very little about either concept, Kyana rolled her eyes. “I want Jordan Faye's guardianship.”

“We have another task for you,” Lachesis said, digging noisily through a golden chest behind her as Kyana turned a murderous stare to the other sisters.

“No way. I found the one that everyone else had given up on. It's my right to be her guardian.”

“Because you think such a post will give you power?”

“No. Because she is my responsibility.”

“Liar,” Atropos hissed. “You're as power hungry now as you were when you first came to the Order.”

Lachesis turned back to the group. In her hands, she held a golden chain with a flat, square hunk of obsidian the size of Kyana's hand dangling from the end of it. Lachesis turned the block of glossy ebony so that Kyana could see a roughly cut pentagram-shaped hole in the center.

“Sisters, I think the choice belongs to our tracer.” Lachesis held out the stone pendant, her lips curving into a sly smile. “You found our Chosen, and you may guard her if you wish.”

Satisfied, Kyana started to nod in acceptance, but the gleam in Lachesis's eyes stopped her. “What's the catch?”

Lachesis looked to her sisters before turning back to Kyana. “You may play guardian to Jordan Faye or you may take up a more important job.”

Her curiosity piqued, Kyana reached out and touched the sharp edges of the cut stone. “What job?”

Lachesis slipped the chain around Kyana's neck. The thing weighed as much as a small hippo.

“A simple task, Kyana.” A smile lit Lachesis's tearstained cheeks. “We want you to save the world.”

 

 

Chapter One

K
yana Aslan shook off the exhilaration shivering under her skin and tossed a grin at Ryker. The demigod smiled back, his teeth blindingly white in the shadows of Matanzas State Forest.

Becoming a goddess certainly had its perks. Like running fifty miles in under five minutes without the smallest hint of exhaustion. She'd only been the new Goddess of the Hunt for a day, and while she didn't yet have most of Artemis's powers, the little she did have made her old pacing look like . . . well, it was like trying to compare a wild Mustang to a sleek, gorgeous black Arabian. Both got you where you wanted to go quickly, but the Arabian got you there in style.

“Ky? You ready? We'll have to take them by surprise.”

Ryker looked so incredibly yummy in his camos, it was difficult to concentrate. Wind-tousled blond hair fell over his silver eyes, casting a shadow across his well-sculpted profile making him look more like a statue of his father, Ares, than the half human he was.

This was only a scouting mission, an exercise to practice the few skills Kyana had inherited from Artemis. And she was loving every minute of it. Being allowed off Olympus for the first time in days was like being let out of a cage. Flying off with Ryker, whom she was coming to like more than she should, was just icing on the cake. That he was wearing those yummy camos was the creamy filling.

Ryker's expression of concentration was broken by the tiny smile teasing the corner of his full lips, the small fangs bestowed on all demigods glistening in the moonlight. He obviously knew what she was thinking, knew she was probably remembering what he looked like
out
of those camos, but he was gentleman enough not to mention it. Instead, he pointed to the meeting they'd come to intercept. She studied the clearing as he spoke instructions into her ear, though in all honesty, her blood was pounding too loudly to hear anything else.

If the informant who'd come to Artemis was right, this meeting was being held by those who supported the resurrection of Cronos, an ancient god who'd committed the ultimate sin of trying to off his sons, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. If they could catch one of these bastards and bring it in alive, maybe they'd be able to find and stop the person who was trying to bring Cronos back to life.

That person happened to be Kyana's closest friend in the world, which made this
practice
mission even more important.

Her determination settled more firmly in her gut as she peered into the darkness. There was enough of her old Vampyric blood in her to make scanning the trees effortless. Her gaze fell upon rising smoke half a football field away, and while she couldn't see the bodies, the tracer in her could sense them, feel them. She wanted to hunt them.

But the goddess in her wanted answers more than bloodshed.

She wiggled her toes inside her boots. “I'm ready. But I want to listen before we jump in. See if they mention Haven.”

She didn't wait for Ryker's protest. A hundred-foot pine fell into her line of sight, almost exactly where she wanted to be. She didn't think her feet ever touched the forest floor as she sprinted the fifty yards, looked up at her branch, and sprang from her toes. When she landed in a crouch on top of the thick limb overhead, she wasn't even winded.

Pressing her belly to the rough branch, she slithered to the end where she could hang her head over, unseen. Pine needles poked through her leather vest and stabbed at her armpits, but she didn't stop to scratch. Soon, Ryker was there, lying flat on top of her as he too pressed himself low to watch.

“This wasn't the plan,” he grumbled, his breath fanning her hair.

“Hush.”

He'd wanted to strike immediately, to attack before the ceremony had even begun. Surprisingly, she'd been more patient. It went against her normal instincts to wait it out, but she was pretty sure listening and gathering more intel before rushing in was the smarter thing to do. Practice or not, she wanted something to take back to Olympus with her. Something that would help her prevent Haven from doing something too stupid to forgive.

Besides, the gods and goddesses were losing more of their powers every day. Anything Kyana could find out to stop their Chosen replacements from being picked off by Cronos's followers would be a boon.

She wiggled to get more comfortable. Big mistake. Ryker's groin stabbed against the backs of her thighs, and if he hadn't been plastering her to the tree, she probably would have been distracted enough to roll right off the branch and into the middle of the coven below.

His fingers bit into the back of her leg, pinning her in place. “Stop moving.”

As a pair, they, apparently, were not built for a stakeout.

“From the fires of the Underworld, I offer you my wings!” The mutterings of the group grew louder and more coherent as a Hatchling lowered its black cloak to the ground and spread its wings to the skies. Thin, golden scales stretched out over spidery veins and bones, and his reptilian face glistened eerily in the shadowed light of the moon.

“I didn't know Hatchlings could speak,” Kyana mumbled. “Did you know they could speak?”

Ryker nudged her and she shut up, watching as the being beside the Hatchling also lowered its cloak.

“My loyal offering . . . Take my sight!”

“What are they doing?” she whispered.

“Offering their strongest assets to aid in Cronos's return.”

The creature tilted its long neck toward the treetops, its face contorted with agony as blood streamed from its black eyes.

“What the hell is that?”

“Damn it, Kyana, if they hear you . . .” He sighed and pressed his lips to her ear. “It's a Dark Seer. Now please shut up.”

Kyana sucked in a gasp before it could escape. Seers weren't demons. They were humans born with the ability to see into the future—the equivalent of Oracles on Olympus but to a lesser, more mortal degree. But this thing didn't appear human. It had black, shriveled skin and looked more like a mummy than anything she had ever seen. Except, of course, for actual mummies.

As the nine others in the circle dropped their cloaks and offered their strengths to the god they prayed would return to them, Kyana listened, waiting to make her move. A hush fell over the group below and the fire blazing in their center danced as though they'd been heard by someone other than her and Ryker.

Cronos hadn't risen, and if she could do anything about it, he never would. But that didn't stop her from worrying. He was dead, yet he'd managed to find a way to circumvent that minor inconvenience and plan his own resurrection. She wasn't dumb enough to underestimate what he was capable of.

Even from the grave, he'd managed to turn Haven, the sweetest, most gentle Witch she had ever met, into a maniacal puppet. The pain of that crime was still so fresh and raw, Kyana wore it like lotion all over. Dead or alive, Cronos was a psychotic, dangerous mother trucker.

Haven was her best friend. That she'd kinda sorta turned Haven into a mix of Vampyre and Lychen to save her life hadn't changed that. Neither had the fact that her blood had driven Haven slightly cuckoo and now she was hell-bent on destroying the world on behalf of the dead-but-still-deadly god Cronos.

It was Kyana's job to hunt her down and bring her back to sanity before she accomplished that goal.

Maybe they
should
have stopped this meeting before it started as Ryker had wanted to. Maybe it
wasn't
wise to give them a chance to make progress toward Cronos's plan to come back.

“Can Cronos really accept what these things are offering?”

Ryker adjusted himself and leaned over her other ear. “They're not offering them to Cronos.”

“Then who—” Kyana's blood went colder than usual. She didn't need him to answer. “Haven.”

As he nodded, his chin rubbed against her hair, making her shiver. He groaned and tightened his hands on her hips to hold her still.

“But I don't think they have a clue what they're doing,” he said. “Haven's not a god. She can't accept gifts like this.”

Thank Zeus.

Kyana didn't need these buffoons making her job harder. She had only seven days before she'd lose her Vamp/Lychen abilities in exchange for full goddess-ship. Learning to become the new Goddess of the Hunt while trying to bring down the only real family she had was going to suck. Majorly.

Not willing to consider what would happen if she didn't meet her deadline, she focused on the group below her. One of the creatures down there had the information she needed, and she was determined to get it.

“Ready?” she asked, thrusting her butt in the air to buck Ryker off her back. When his weight disappeared, she pushed herself back into a crouch position and leaned her upper body over the limb. The branch was strong, but with both of them standing on it, their weight unevenly distributed, it cracked under their feet. If they weren't ready, the tree was.

“Give me a minute.” He pointed down at the circle of Cronos groupies. “They're about to start their closing chant. When you hear the final hum, go. I'll be right there with you.”

Before she could ask where the hell he thought he was going, he was gone. She caught a flash of blond hair from the corner of her eye, and watched its trail swing through the tree branches to the opposite side of the clearing.

Tarzan.
Me likey.

The branch crackled again. She sucked in her breath and focused on the chanting, waiting for the hum Ryker seemed to think she'd recognize. But then the bottom fell out from under her feet. Instinct brought her hands straight up, and she clawed at the branch hanging overhead just before the broken limb beneath her tumbled into darkness, crashing smack in the center of the coven.

“Shit shit shit.”

She swung herself up to a sturdier branch and swore she heard Ryker mimic her curses. There was no more waiting. She dropped, catching another branch in her hands, and swung out and over the coven, swooping down upon their group to land gracefully on her feet. They closed in just as Ryker landed behind her.

Kyana was pissed. Not that her branch had given way, but that they were going to have to kill these traitors before they could force any useful information out of them.

“Can't leave you for a minute,” he muttered, pressing his back to hers.

Furious that their ceremony had been interrupted, all eleven Dark Breed drooled and sputtered, practically frothing at the mouth in outrage. Two human-looking cowards fled, disappearing into the darkness, but the other nine stayed put. She tried to take them all in, to see what breeds they were to better prepare for their strengths and weaknesses, but other than the Dark Seer and the Hatchling, they all wore hoods that covered their features.

She hated fighting blind, but she had no choice.

A few of them flew backward as Ryker tapped into his telekinesis. She hadn't had time to learn such a thing and didn't even know if she ever could. It was going to have to be all sweat and fists for her.

She kicked out, catching one under the chin. Its hood fell off, revealing the face of another Hatchling. Black blood spewed from his mouth and his jaw to make a horrific crunching noise before falling open at a disjointed angle. He came at her, his orangey wings open and his claws outstretched like an eagle dipping in for its prey.

She ducked. The Hatchling tumbled over her and as it landed on its back, she slid her dagger from her boot and shoved it between the beast's ribs. It released a long, soft sigh before it stopped breathing altogether.

Ryker sent two more crashing into each other, bashing them together so hard, one's skull split in two before it crumpled to the ground. She glanced at it long enough to see it had been a Lychen, killed mid-transformation with its wolf's muzzle protruding from a human face.

She turned back to her own fight as a dark, Mediterranean-looking man lunged at her. Instinctively, she brought her fist up and it lodged inside the man's throat. As he slumped to the ground, she jerked her hand free and stared in fascination at the sparkling orangish blood coating her hand.

“I think I just killed a Genie!”

Her momentary shock was broken as, from the corner of her eye, she saw the Dark Seer slip around one of his companions.

“Grab him!” she screamed. If they were going to let any of this coven live, the Dark Seer was their best choice. If they were lucky, he'd peek into the future and point them toward Haven, and if nothing else, he had the capacity to answer questions.

The Seer was smart, however, and braver than she'd given him credit for. As Ryker lunged to carry out her request, the Seer whipped a long sword from the pile of cloaks at his feet.

“I will die before betraying my god!” And with that, he shoved the blade into his heart and fell onto the dead Hatchling beside him.

Great.

They were down to three survivors. All of them looked nasty and incapable of speech, let alone conversation. One morphed into a human-looking male, naked and hairy from head to toe. A Shyfter.

Kyana grabbed his nape and shoved him to his knees. He smiled up at her, his yellow teeth bared, then shifted into an adder and slithered from her hold. He disappeared into the forest before she could react.

Two Dark Breed left: another Hatchling and an impure demon. A Half-Breed of some kind that didn't look as though he even possessed a tongue, his mouth nothing more than a tiny hole in his face.

Maybe the Hatchling could— Ryker twisted the Hatchling's head right off its shoulders.

“Damn it.” She thrust her dagger into the remaining Half-Breed's throat and whipped around to face Ryker. “Did you have to kill them all?”

She was so damned angry, she wanted to find something else to kill. They were no closer to finding Haven than they'd been when Artemis's snitch had tipped them off about this ceremony.