Skin of a Goddess (Goddess Ascension Book 1) (2 page)

“The horses have been trained to carry supernaturals, so your scents shouldn’t bother them. Other than that, they are fairly easygoing and prepared for beginner to intermediate riders. We are going along a trail to the stream, where we’ll have a picnic lunch, then head back. If anyone has any questions, don’t hesitate to ask,” Austin tells us while leading all of us out of the castle. “Everyone grab a mount. All of the beginner horses are to the left.”

After about fifteen minutes of scrambling we’re all on our horses, some of us sitting more comfortably than others. Apate glares down at her older gray pony, then up at my lovely black stallion. Austin starts us all at a slow trot. Apate and I ride next to one another. She gives me some bored glances, but even she can’t complain about the scenery. One word I can think of that describes English countryside perfectly, to me, is wistful. Everything is lush and green with the fresh scent of the earth before such heavy industrialization.

After a little curve in the path, we see a stream in the distance. “About time; my ass hurts something fierce,” Apate complains. “It’ll take at least an hour to heal properly.”

She shifts in her seat restlessly, and her knee knocks into her horse’s side. Before I can tell her to quiet down, the horse has already acted. It’s like he’s waking up after a deep sleep, eyes wide in fear and confusion. He rears up and comes for me and the stallion, having been accidentally urged to the left. His great hooves reach up, kicking frantically.

With no time to think, I act on instinct. My skin is normally a dark gold that appears to be a somewhat bronze tan to humans and mortal immortals. Not totally normal, but not so out of the ordinary as to be too noticeable. Now, I harden it as if it really is gold. It turns darker, brighter, appearing liquid and metallic. A hoof hits me, and I fall to the ground with a deadening thud. Before I can even say “I’m fine,” the hot werewolf and dragon or griffin are by me.

“Are you hurt?” the werewolf asks with a delicious Southern accent.

I sit up and unwind my arms from around my head, giving them their first clear look at my face. I feel everyone’s eyes on me. Even I have to admit, when I look in the mirror when my coloring is full out, I become a little distracted.

“I’m fine,” I say, bracing my hands on the dewy grass to sit myself up.

The thing about my skin is, it’s really my only physical defense mechanism, but also helps with the whole seduction thing. It sparkles and draws the eye. It may not be directly sexual, but it’s mesmerizing. In fact, it just makes everything about me brighter. My red-amber eyes glow a shade lighter. My hair, formed of equal parts dark brown, gold, and deep red, stands out.

“May I?” the werewolf asks reverently, motioning his hand at my bared arm, where my jacket has ripped.

I know it’s a slippery slope, but I shrug. “Sure.”

His hand reaches out and brushes my skin lightly, then more firmly. “It’s so soft. How are you okay?”

I laugh lightly. “Try to punch me.”

He looks surprised, but after some goading, I get him to lightly hit me. It’s just enough for the natural reaction to take place, and my skin becomes hard. “It’s really gold!”

“No, it’s harder than gold. Harder than diamonds, last time I checked. The girls dared me into letting them attack me with diamond-tipped spears, but it turned out all right in the end.”

“Come on, Peitho, stop showing off and get back on your horse. I’m hungry,” Apate whines.

It only takes a few seconds for me to let the protective layer of skin settle back under the surface, making me visually less showy and appealing. Granted, I’m still golden, but no longer liquid and metallic. It’s subdued enough to look like I’ve gotten a bit too carried away with a shimmery bronzer. It takes me longer to brush the grass from my clothes and glare at Apate.

“We have a problem,” Apate says after using her power to direct everyone’s attention away from us.

“Uh-huh?”

“Remember that guy who went to help you? Not the really yummy one, but the big, dark, and dangerous one? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you once. Since the fall,” Apate points out gently.

I’ve had this happen before. I generally try not to bring out my protective skin if I can help it, especially around strangers who are more susceptible to it. They’ve been known to become quite obsessed. Usually, it involves a little scrounging around in their brain to turn the crazy off.

Things just aren’t like the good old days, where I’d exploit their interest and get lots of presents and their lifelong devotion. Mortals and supernaturals alike are too organized now, so it’s much harder to get away with things. Plus, humans and their technology have tampered with that quite a bit.

“Well, fuck me!” I exclaim bitterly.

Apate laughs lightly. “Don’t say that too loudly. As if there aren’t a few people here who would take you up on that invitation.”

I glare at her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I close my eyes and see everyone and their energy in my mind’s eye. They all practically hum with power and strength, since I’m usually around humans. I have nothing against humans, but they’re so dim and frail compared to all of us. I could pick out even the weakest of us in a room of humans without ever seeing them. We glow so much brighter.

I direct myself to the mortal immortal’s mind. He’s sitting in apparent compatible silence with Eve’s brother, Julian. I drown everyone out as I focus on my prey. I mean, target. I aim myself at his mind, and mentally send myself to it.

“Son of a bitch! What the fucking hell was that!” I groan when intense pain fills my head, making my eyes water, and snapping my consciousness back to my own mind.

“Are you okay?” Apate asks me instantly.

“No, I just got my ass handed to me by a damn scaly!” I hiss at her.

“What are you talking about?” she asks seriously.

“I couldn’t get in his head.”

Apate stares at me with wide eyes. “But, you can always get in a mortal’s mind. Has there ever been a time you weren’t able to? You’re one of the best of us at it. You sneak in with that persuasive power of yours.”

“You think I don’t know that? No, I don’t remember ever not being able to, unless you count Mom. When I was still learning, I accidentally tried to get in her mind. It didn’t really hurt, though. I just kind of bounced away from it. This guy’s barriers shot me clear away!”

“Well, that’s not good. Boy must be a royal, then.” Apate sighs.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know nothing of dragons? Only the royals carry heavy telepathic genes,” Apate explains to me as if I’m stupid.

I glare at her. “Why on Olympus would I know that?”

“Good point. You only know about sirens, mermen, and nymphs. Can’t blame you for that, though.”

“Damn right. None of them have ever caused me this much pain. Luckily, I heal quickly. I can already feel myself mending.”

“Um, do you think he noticed?”

“What do you mean? Me trying to get in his head? I’ve never tried it before with someone trained enough to realize if someone was trying to get in or not. I guess it’s possible. Why?” I ask.

Apate gulps. “He seems to be looking over here quite steadily.”

“Eh?”

“Don’t look!” she tells me, but it’s too late.

I make eye contact with the dragon. I guess he’s attractive, even if I didn’t notice him with the gorgeous werewolf around. Apate was pretty accurate with her dark and dangerous description. Even from here, you can tell he’s a big guy. Tall and muscular in ways that just are not mortal, not even mortal immortal. He has thick black hair that’s slightly wavy, but kept fairly short. I can’t tell what eye color he has from here, but I’m not sure any could soften that hard face. He’s got high cheekbones, a strong jaw, slightly crooked nose, and average-sized mouth.

“He doesn’t look all that happy, Peitho,” Apate tells me, as if I can’t see that on my own.

“Girl, what did you do to poor Hunter?” Addy says, joining us.

“What?” I ask, breaking eye contact with the weirdo.

“That guy you were staring at. His name is Hunter. He’s good friends with my brother.” Eve smiles at me indulgently. “New conquest, huh?”

“No way. At least, I don’t think so. Some are more susceptible than others to my power. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon,” I tell them.

Eve and Addy share a look.

“What?” Apate asks them with a bit of snap in her voice.

Addy sighs and says, “He’s a dragon.”

“Yeah, I remember him mentioning it.” I nod, wondering what this has to do with, well, anything.

“They’re fairly solitary, and when they want something, they damn well better get it,” Eve says with finality.

“I’m a daimon. There’s nothing I have to do.”

Chapter 2

“Why isn’t this day over yet? I’m sure if I could, I’d have a sore from all that ‘fun’ horseback riding. Why would anyone do that for entertainment? It hurts like a bitch,” Apate grumbles on and on, while gently rubbing her rear.

I decide it’s not the time to remind her that we may feel pain or get injuries, but we heal really quickly. If she did get sore from riding, it will probably heal any minute now, or has already mostly healed. Besides, all of us have had much worse injuries than anything she could possibly be suffering from now.

“If you were more used to it, you would be less sore. We should go riding more often.”

She sends me a disdainful glare. “Excuse me if not all of us are familiar with spreading our legs so much.”

I have to just shrug at that one.

“I had to cut my warm, soothing bath short for this dumb shifter meeting. What do they have to talk about anyway? As far as I can tell, they live in style,” she continues at a different target.

“I completely agree,” Lyssa says in her cold, cold voice.

I give Apate a look, pretty much saying, “Well, if she agrees with you, you’re really screwed.”

Enyo says evenly, “I’m looking forward to it. I can almost taste the violence.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet. Give us your friendly smiles!” I tell them, and they each turn to Apate and me.

To put it quite simply, they look scary as hell. Lyssa is giving us crazy eyes, which is saying a lot, since her eyes are completely black—pupil, the whites, everything. Plus, she has long hair that’s pretty much blood-red. Her smile looks, to put it bluntly, like she’s about to rip you to pieces, laughing all the while, making Mardi Gras beads of your intestines.

Enyo is a pretty thing, that much is clear. She has long black hair and pretty violet eyes. She’s quite the attraction. Enyo even has a pretty pink mouth. Right now, it’s pulled back in a fierce scowl, showing sharp little fangs, as if she’s giving out a silent war cry. Maybe she is.

“How about you two just try to keep your faces blank,” Apate says, not even bothering to be diplomatic.

“What are we doing here, anyway? What faction of shifters are we meeting with?” Enyo asks in her rough, slightly accented voice.

“Good goddess, you all did get schedules, didn’t you? We’re not meeting with any shifters; we’re going to sit in on the gathering with the assorted other supernaturals here,” I say with some annoyance.

Enyo continues with, “I still do not understand why they are all meeting.”

Lyssa speaks up with her lovely, empty voice, “They are meeting to complain and share secrets. They are all going to complain about one another and their territories, etc. Hopefully, no one gets killed.”

She doesn’t really sound hopeful of that at all.

“Sounds pointless. They should do battle and settle things correctly. They should each talk to their guild leaders about the possibility.” Enyo sighs.

We are about to walk into the chamber when Apate throws herself in front of the door. “Don’t suggest that while we’re in there,” she hisses at them both. “In fact, talk as little as possible. You’ll ruin everything if you get them to fight.”

Enyo curls her lip. “When has a fight ever ruined anything?”

“Do you want us to be sent back to Olympus before we can complete the plan?” I whisper.

“Why serve in Heaven when you can rule in Hell?” Lyssa adds in a sing-song voice. “We have to accomplish it. I can’t go back there.”

Enyo pats her arm in what appears to be a soothing gesture. “We’ll never go back there. The Olympians will never be able to control us again, once we’re through.”

“That means you’ll behave, right?”

Enyo and Lyssa share a choreographed bored expression before we enter.

“These are all of the others?” Enyo asks, looking around the room of twenty or so people with scorn.

“Boring,” Lyssa agrees.

Apate leans over to me, whispering, “Well, this is certainly going to be a raging cluster fuck.”

“They are decidedly unimpressive.” Lyssa sniffs. “They don’t even have weapons.”

“Good goddess, at least lower your voices!” I hiss at them as the others give us unfriendly glances.

Though, really, I have to concede the point to Lyssa. To someone like her, it is quite the offense to be found without protection, and not the kind of protection I’m used to. Lyssa has a pair of swords strapped to her back, ready for anything. Enyo is never without her crossbow slung along her back and sword strapped to her waist. Apate and I just keep small blades, if we have room for them or think we might need them.

Apate gives a shrug and says, “They’re shifters; maybe they don’t expect any danger they can’t handle.”

“Good point. They
are
practically animals,” Lyssa agrees.

“Yes, exactly what I meant,” Apate says sarcastically.

“Can everyone settle down and take a seat? I’m Harold, and I’m going to be calling this meeting into session. We are here today to talk about our concerns and needs. If you have any current events within your people, we’d love to hear about them. If you have anything to add for those you’re here representing, this would be a great time.”

“Fucking mortals, this is going to take forever.” Enyo groans. “Worse than torture.”

Harold continues, “Let’s start with the immortal representatives, as long as no one objects?”

I give Lyssa a quick kick to the shin as she begins to open her mouth.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Enyo. We have been given the unfortunate task of looking after all of your silly conventions and gatherings for the next century or so. Luckily, you only have a shifter gathering every decade, so we’ll hopefully only be subjected to ten of these affairs. I would like to make some suggestions for the next one. Perhaps, like the great gladiators—”

“What she means is, we’ve been given the great honor of representing the immortals in Olympus to the mortal-immortal community for the next century. We actually fought strongly for this right.” Apate smiles charmingly. “We won’t only be coming to your delightful conventions, but also attending other mortal-immortal gatherings in order to address any concerns that may arise. Our main purpose is to encourage peace between species and keep our interactions from affecting mortals or supernatural discovery. We are very excited for this opportunity to help communications between Olympus and the mortal world.”

Both of them were lying quite blatantly, with some truth casually sprinkled in. It’s true that we’re the immortal representatives to all of the mortal immortals here on Earth. That means when there’s a party or convention, we’re given a nice invitation. To the immortals in Olympus, it’s pretty much like jury duty. Names are put in a hat, drawn, and sentenced. When we heard that new selections were coming up, we had Enyo mention to her brother Ares that we wouldn’t mind getting chosen. To accomplish what we have set out to do, we need unlimited access to Earth.

Harold looks at the four of us, clearly standing out in the circle of people sitting, and tries to look blank-faced. “I didn’t realize as immortal representatives you’d hold the title for so long. Would you care to tell us a little about yourselves, Olympus, or possible concerns you have? Maybe the higher Olympians have questions for us?”

He would like it if the big guys cared enough to send us with a list of issues to bring up. Out of all the immortal mortals, the Olympians probably care about shape shifters the least. For one thing, all gods and goddesses can change to animal shape. For another, shape shifters all live mainly human lives.

“I’m Lyssa! I’m kind of known for starting things. I was a major hit around the Black Plague. Started it, really. Gave those huge, disgusting rats a bit of warped rabies, and now here we all are. We’ve traveled to Earth quite a few times, but due to past circumstances that were completely and totally not our fault, we’ve mostly been in Olympus. Now, we’ve permanently moved here to fulfill our obligation. We also take a lot of exotic vacations. About a century ago, we took an extended one in the Underworld. We have a nice beach house on Acheron, the River of Woe. We really got those old bones rockin’! Hades is one major killjoy, though; quite the codpiece blocker too, if I recall.”

“That’s certainly enough about us!” I exclaim when I finally stop listening to Lyssa in fascinated horror.

Harold nods hastily. “Shall we move on to the griffin representatives?”

“Yeah, we need to rein in those good-for-nothing Furies! They’ve been up our asses about our treasure. Damn right it’s stolen—what would be the point otherwise? Anyway, the Furies want us to give the innocents all of their belongings back. Ha, when apocalypse happens!”

I look around the room and notice Hunter. He’s listening avidly, as if what the griffin has to say is interesting. I take the opportunity to look him up and down at my leisure. The man really is huge. I mean, I’m pretty tall at five eleven, but he’s a beast, no pun intended. He must be at least seven feet, with wide shoulders, a trim waist, and arms that look like they can hold me up, down, and around all day long. I can’t help it. I’m an arm girl, and his are perfect. Sculpted and muscular without being crazy weight-lifter bulky with a million veins sticking out.

It turns out he has large, moss-green eyes. I really do like those eyes. They remind me of my lovely nymph counterparts, who often have an appearance made of earthy tones. They’re also bright and attentive. If I were close enough to see, I bet there’d be specks of brown or yellow in them. Just the kind of eyes someone could get lost in. If they were so inclined, that is.

Then there’s his scar. It’s a nice one, on the left side of his face, running level with his eye down to the corner of his mouth, where it just cuts through the corner of his lips. It drives me crazy with wild ideas of tracing it with my tongue. I’ve always liked men who look like real men. I have to admit there’s nothing about him that isn’t masculine.

Finally done looking, then?
The voice resonates in my mind, unrecognizable to me, meaning it’s not an Olympian. They are the only ones I know who can truly communicate telepathically. We can pick out thoughts once in a while that relate to our embodiments, but not really communicate.

I look around the room, this time meeting eyes with Hunter. He has a smug smile on his lips. Well, fuck that! I do the first thing that pops into my mind. I give him the middle finger.

If you think something at me, I’ll be able to hear it. Other than that, you’re blocked enough that I can’t read your thoughts, just send mine at you
.

Shut up, I’m trying to pay attention!
He visibly jumps as if I sent the thought a tad too loudly.

Hunter looks at me condescendingly.
I’m sure you were on the edge of your seat. Don’t worry, I’ll let you focus on things, for now. We’ll talk again later.

Fat chance, you overbearing ass.

I’ve never really met a dragon. Damn solitary creatures, more so than any others. Of course he would be a royal one on top of everything else. If that says anything to me, it’s not “quick and easy” lay. This puts him firmly off my radar. Besides, I don’t like how he stares at me.

***

“Come on, whores! Think girl band!” I yell at them as clothes are flung around the room. Oh, lovely chaos. “Extra slutty girl band!”

Goddess, I just love karaoke. I hope those shifters can hold a tune.

I am in a black mini skirt, tightly encasing my lower body. Above that is a cropped white T-shirt. With the gross display of midriff and legs, I’m pretty much set. I don’t have to try very hard to look sexy. In fact, if I do, I end up looking more obscene than hot. Currently, I’m borderline.

Ana comes up behind me with a firm smack to my ass. “Looking good, Seduction. The others are almost ready, just finishing with the hair spray. Good thing human drugs don’t affect us, or all the fumes in here would have us flying high as a kite. Lyssa and Dysnomia decided it would be best to go ‘big hair.’”

Nemesis blows her whistle. “Come on, everyone! If you’re all done stuffing your bras, get in a single-file line!”

“Who died and made her our boss?” Apate asks with scorn.

I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Don’t you remember? We voted.”

Nemesis can be kind of a major boner kill, but she has her place. She pretty much stands for the balance in the world. All of those fuckers who have really good luck? Yeah, she takes them down a notch. Basically, she’s in charge of retribution for wrongdoing and crazy good luck. She’s got quite the look going for her, with long black hair, black eyes, and black wings that sprout from her back. Right now they’re under a layer of skin, looking like a pretty graphic tattoo. It reminds me of my protective skin.

“We did vote for her, didn’t we? Who did she run against, anyway?” Apate asks.

“No one. No one else wanted to be in charge of all of us. Good God, I’m surprised we got anyone to volunteer, let alone actually take the job seriously. I, for one, am grateful. She’s the only one who can get Aergia to do anything,” I tell her, eyes going to the daimon of laziness and her rumpled white dress that often doubles as a nightgown.