Ascension (24 page)

Lachesis’s gaze fell upon Drake, who appeared almost paralyzed. “Best not to be spoken of in detail before unwanted company.”

Clotho passed the scroll to Ryker. “New Chosen for those murdered yesterday and today. Among them, Artemis’s. They’ll need to be brought in quickly.”

“Later,” Kyana said, pressing her boot to Drake’s back. She gave him a little kick. He didn’t move but she still didn’t feel comfortable speaking freely with him in the room. “Don’t let him so much as breathe in that scroll’s direction.”

“We’re not so irresponsible, you insolent—”

“Atropos, please.” Clotho turned her attention away from her sister and focused on Ryker. “Artemis is weak. She cannot assign her tracers to their duties. As Ares’s second, I trust you can do it for her?”

Ryker nodded. “Of course.”

Her gaze held Ryker’s. “Instruct them to be swift, Ryker. We’re running out of souls.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt this party, but isn’t it more important to finish dealing with Drake so we can solve your problem of dwindling souls?”

Clotho leaned in toward Ryker, pressing her face close to his, and whispered. “We’ve had to start pulling from the Order. The humans holding the souls are dying too quickly. We need stronger bodies now.”

Kyana watched Ryker scan the list. He paled, and his gaze flickered to Kyana.

“What?”

He shook his head and started to roll the scroll closed, but Kyana snatched it from him, determined to see what had him so panicked.

“Kyana, don’t—”

She swung around, putting her back to him, and read. Nearly fifty names glittered in golden ink and she scanned them quickly looking for anything that might stand out as odd. When she reached the end of the list, her gaze locked on two names. One goddess. One Chosen.

Her heart stopped beating, her cold hands warmed.

“The new Artemis . . . is Haven.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

P
anic gripped Kyana’s heart. Haven, the new Artemis? Any other time, this would have evoked an insane amount of envy, but right now, it only evoked terror. She stood, wiping her damp palms on her jeans. “We need to get to Haven. Now. If it gets out that she’s a Chosen . . .”

Drake rolled onto his side, his brown eyes heavy with magical residue, but his lips were curved in a sinister sneer. “The moment her name was written on that scroll, she was as good as dead. Look for her if you want, but the ones who want her already know.”

Kyana lifted her foot to kick the bastard in the ribs, but Ryker seized her arm and dragged her to the door. “There’s no time for that, Ky. Let’s go.”

She sprinted beside him, her brain reeling as they flew down the steps and onto the streets Below. There was no time to request that a god locate Haven via beacon. All she could do was pray the scent of Haven was fresh and that she wasn’t following a week-old trail. They spent so much time here, it was difficult to tell if the weak scent was simply residual effects. She could shift, and maybe the smell would be stronger, but if she did so and found Haven in trouble, she’d be too weak to be of much help when she shifted back.

“Which way?”

Kyana sniffed the air. Haven’s pheromones were strongest to the east and so she headed that way without bothering to make sure Ryker still followed.

“He was bluffing, right?” she asked, shoving her way through a crowd spilling out of an emporium. “How could Cronos’s followers already know? The Fates just created that damned list.”

“No idea. But we’re dealing with Cronos and I’m not sure any of us know what he is capable of.”

The steady beat of her boots against the cobblestone blocked out the thoughts screaming through her mind. Haven was okay. She
had
to be okay.

They swung around the corner and Haven’s scent hit Kyana like a sledgehammer to the nose. This was fresh. Minutes fresh. Kyana looked up to find herself staring at the door to Spirits.

“Here.” She shoved open the door and the air-conditioned bar instantly dried her damp skin. The oak-based scent of Haven’s perfume lingered strongly among the smell of hookah and overcooked meat. So did that flippin’ foul sulfuric stench that she’d picked up on the lock and on the island. Haven’s fear was as pungent as the hookah smoke. “She’s not okay.”

The room swayed and Ryker’s hand slipped to the small of Kyana’s back as the knowledge that they were too late struck her numb.

“We’ll get to her, Ky. Go, follow her scent. There’s a back exit. I’ll guard it until you come out. Make sure no one slips out.”

Kyana nodded and scanned the tables and booths looking for any sign of Haven. She traced Haven’s scent through the kitchen, ignoring the stares of the cook and servers who’d stopped to watch her.

“Has anyone come through here?”

The employees shook their heads, but Kyana wasn’t swayed. The perfume was too strong.

She pointed toward a closed door at the back of the kitchen. “Where does that lead?”

The squat cook wiped his hands on his apron. “The cellar. But no one passed through here.”

These employees were mostly Mystics who enjoyed the extra cash that came with working at Spirits, but judging by the looks of the sorry lot, not a one of them was very good at his chosen path in the Order. These morons would be unaware if an Illusion Charm had passed right under their noses. Ignoring the cook’s protest, she squeezed between the counters and let herself into the cellar. It was faintly lit, and as Kyana crept downstairs, she followed the soft sound of sobbing ahead. When she reached the bottom, the scent of Haven and something stronger stopped her.

Kyana took a deep breath and held it. Oak, lavender, and . . . blood?

She sniffed the air. Definitely blood. The scent made her dizzy, but the sight before her constricted her chest. Haven lay on the floor in the middle of the cellar. A pool of blood beneath her. Kyana roared and flew across the room, skidding to a halt over Haven’s body and collapsing beside her.

Being as gentle as possible, she cradled Haven in her arms. Blood pooled beneath Haven’s back, caulking the wooden planks and soaking her shirt. Kyana brushed the hair from her friend’s face, stared in horror at the three stab wounds gushing and pulsing around Haven’s ribs. “Somebody help me,” she roared, rocking Haven slowly. “It’s okay. You’re going to be all right.”

Even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie. Too much blood. Haven wouldn’t survive it. Panic broke down the stone wall between Kyana’s fear and the outside world, making them bleed together until she couldn’t see from the tears and agony tearing at her insides. A tear escaped, followed by a rush of emotion that held her frozen and scared out of her mind.

“Haven, please. Open your eyes.” She rocked faster.
Don’t die don’t die don’t die don’t die.

Haven gripped Kyana’s hand. “Kyana.”

“Oh, Haven,” Kyana whispered, wiping blood from Haven’s mouth. The sound of running footsteps reached her ears. “Help’s coming. Just hang on.”

“It’s okay, Kyana. I’m going to see Hope again.”

Kyana squeezed her eyes shut and bit back the urge to scream. Haven wanted to see her twin sister who died years ago? What about Kyana? Hadn’t they become sisters?

“Don’t you dare die for her, damn you. Live for
me
!”

A faint smile cracked Haven’s lips. Her breath released in a long, slow sigh. Her heartbeat slowed. The swoosh of blood quieted. Haven’s head fell limp in Kyana’s hands. Kyana bit back a cry of agony and instead screamed for Ryker.

“No! Damn you!” Kyana slumped over Haven’s body, trembling, crying, dying right alongside the only being in the world she’d trusted implicitly. Just like everyone else, Haven had left her alone, and for a brief moment, Kyana hated her with every fiber of her being.

Chaos erupted behind her, but Kyana couldn’t bring herself to care. Geoff appeared out of nowhere and bellowed for a Healer, but she couldn’t lift herself from her hold on Haven’s body. Geoff knelt beside them. He took Haven’s hand. Kyana slapped him away, unwilling to share this moment with anyone, but when she forced herself to look at him, the anguish coloring his face tore at her already shredded heart.

Please no, please no, please no.

Kyana and Geoffrey huddled together with Haven between them. They tried to draw strength from each other. Tried to give Haven the will to open her eyes though it was impossible.

Or was it?

She twisted, wanting to fly at Ryker and pound his chest but unwilling to release her friend. “You’re a fucking god. Do something!”

“A demigod, Ky. I can’t— We have to wait. Maybe—”

Anger and hatred exploded inside her. “I don’t give a shit about your beloved rules and fucking laws. You saved me! You can save her too.”

“I can’t,” he repeated.

Geoff’s howl of anguish mirrored the cold chill covering Kyana. She didn’t know how long they sat there, cradling Haven between them. His body shook. His breath hitched. He pressed a tender kiss to Haven’s forehead. Leaning forward, Kyana mimicked the kiss, her tears squishing between her lips and Haven’s cold cheek.

Haven’s hiccupped breath caressed Kyana’s face.

She’s alive!

Kyana fought back a scream. Haven was still alive. However, the glassy look in her eyes told Kyana it was only a matter of seconds. Ryker had told her to wait and she’d listened, nearly losing Haven once. He couldn’t do anything. He’d just said as much.

It was up to Kyana. Not giving herself time to think of consequences, or even if this was something Haven would want, she raked her wrist across her fang.

Keeping her hand steady, she allowed the thin ribbon of blood to pool. Taking Haven’s wrist in her free hand, Kyana raised it to her lips. As gently as possible, she sank her fangs into the weak pulse. She kept her gaze locked on Haven, understanding now the sorrow and regret she’d once seen in her Sire’s eyes.

“Kyana . . . no.” Haven’s whisper was a deafening scream. Her blue eyes fluttered open, capturing Kyana’s gaze with the power of a lightning bolt. “Let me . . . go. Don’t want . . . that . . . in me.”

Kyana’s heart tripped over itself as she watched Haven. Watched her blood ooze over her wrist, ready to be given. “I’m sorry, Haven. I’m so sorry but I can’t let you go.”

She waited for that last second between life and death. Sweat trickled down her back as she concentrated on remaining still and waiting for the perfect moment. When Kyana felt death reach down its hand, she held her wrist to Haven’s mouth, letting the blood spill over her lips.

Haven tried to turn her head away, but Kyana gripped her tightly, forcing her to take the life she offered even as she prayed for forgiveness. As the blood trickled into Haven’s mouth, Kyana’s heart raced and at the same time, broke. The transformation from friends to Sire and Childe was complete.

Haven would live.

But she would never be the same.

Chapter Twenty-eight

T
he roar of outrage could have come from any of them. Ryker. Geoffrey. Even Kyana.

All Kyana knew was that she was being thrown away from Haven like a rag doll. Haven’s chest heaving, her back arching, her body shaking like an epileptic’s, it all turned Kyana cold. She lay where she was thrown, half in shock, half horrified by what she’d done.

Selfish bitch!

The tirade of name calling inside her brain was an incoherent brutal assault. She shouldn’t have done it. Should have stopped to honor Haven’s wishes. Haven had accepted death. Had looked forward to the afterlife. Kyana had taken all that away. Haven had fed on the blood of a half Vamp/half Lychen, and while life was finding its way back to her, so was darkness.

What have I done, what have I done, what have I done?

Witch, Lychen, Vamp. There was no telling what that concoction might breed in Haven. No telling what sort of monster Kyana had created.

Haven stretched her mouth and her canines elongated into piercing daggers. Finally able to move, Kyana scrambled into the corner and retched, dry heaving until her abdomen seized up and she thought she might die.

Death would have been kinder for Haven than the fate Kyana had just bestowed upon her. Why hadn’t she listened? Why hadn’t she let Haven go? Why had she condemned her only family to a life she’d pleaded against?

“What did you do, Kyana?” Geoffrey screamed, kneeling to the left of Haven while Ryker knelt to her right. “Why?”

Geoffrey knew all too well the hell Kyana had just condemned Haven to.

“I’m sorry. My god, I’m so sorry.” Kyana retched again, raking her nails into the dirty floor.

“I told you to wait.” Ryker’s anger shook the walls. “Why didn’t you trust me?”

“You said you couldn’t do anything!”

“No, but others might have. You’re surrounded by—”

“We’re surrounded by weak, almost powerless, useless gods. What could they have done?”

Haven let loose a cry of agony that shattered several bottles of wine on the shelves across the cellar. Her hands flung out, her long nails raking Ryker’s face, cleaving a racetrack of red from ear to nose. Violence was breeding in her. As was hunger. It wouldn’t be long before the thirst made her a raving lunatic.

“Restrain her.” Ryker let go of Haven’s arm and let Geoffrey take hold of it. He cupped his cheek, the cracks of his fingers filling with blood. His slate gray eyes locked briefly on Kyana. He looked away. “She needs to feed soon or she’ll go mad.”

The stale blood from the butcher wouldn’t stanch Haven’s craving, but he darted from the room before Kyana could draw moisture into her mouth to tell him so.

“I’m fucking blind!” Haven thrashed, bucking Geoffrey away as she twisted beneath him.

Kyana winced at the obscenity. Personality was shifting, and that was the proof.

She’s not your friend anymore. She’s an animal, just like you.

Pushing herself to her knees, Kyana crawled to Haven’s side. “It’s okay, Haven. Your eyes are changing. You’ll be able to see better than ever in just a moment.”

Geoffrey’s head jerked toward Kyana. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Try to make this better. Keen sight isn’t worth what you’ve made her.”

Haven screeched again, her hips throwing Geoffrey to the floor. Her wrists slipped from his grip, and in the next instant, she was fisting his hair and struggling to force his neck back. The insane look in her eyes spurred Kyana into action.

“No!” Kyana shoved Haven hard enough to send her onto her back once again.

The wild newborn in her would be hard to restrain. The only way to keep Haven from hurting herself, or one of them, was to take her out of commission. Kyana grabbed Haven’s hair, exposing her neck. Kyana drove her fangs into Haven’s jugular.

It took all Kyana’s strength to keep Haven’s thrashing under control. But if she could feed long enough, and take enough blood, Haven would be left weak and helpless until she could feed.

The warm blood coating Kyana’s throat nearly drove her out of her mind. She felt a slight tingle as her nails began to grow and the itch of her gums as her fangs elongated. There was nothing like living blood, and it fed the Dark Breed inside Kyana, tempting the beast she’d kept caged for eighty years. She might have fed forever, reveling in the glory of fresh blood if not for Geoffrey grabbing her and throwing her off Haven’s now unconscious body.

“Drink anymore and you’ll kill her.”

Shame flowed through her as she realized that was exactly what she would have done. The starving Dark Breed in her wanted to drink until that glorious moment when the heart stopped and there was nothing left to steal.

Geoffrey knelt beside Haven’s body. “She’s alive, but if you don’t run, you won’t be.”

“What? I’m not leaving—”

“You turned her! Without consent. Do you realize what that means?”

Once again, coldness iced Kyana’s blood. “I’ve just signed my death warrant.”

Something shimmered in Geoffrey’s eyes. They softened, pleaded to her. “Go, Kyana. I’ll take care of Haven, then I’ll find you. Please. Go.”

Kyana didn’t move. She’d take her punishment. She wouldn’t run.

The door behind them burst open. Certain she’d turn and find those ready to take her to prison, Kyana kept her back straight, her gaze locked on Geoffrey. When no harsh hands grabbed her, she inched her body around. Instead of sentinels, she found Marcus standing in the doorway.

His hands were coated in blood and from his fingertips dangled a silver dagger. Drip. Drip. Blood plopped from the edge of the blade and onto the floor as Kyana lifted her stunned gaze to find Marcus’s face. His dark eyes were wide with surprise, and as his frightened expression met Kyana’s stare, he dropped the weapon and shot off down the hallway.

Kyana was on her feet before her brain could process what had just happened. The blanks filled themselves in like booms of thunder in her head. Marcus, like Drake, was an ex-Mystic. As she flew up the stairs after Marcus, she couldn’t grab on to a single coherent thought. A Cronos worshipper, right smack in the middle of everything going on as the owner of Spirits. Liar. Asshole.
Murderer!

She bounded over the kitchen counter, her knee slamming into a gawking cook as she twisted to land on her feet, her gaze trained on the back of Marcus’s flannel shirt. He was too big and cumbersome to get very far. Kyana was on him before he could reach the dining area. Her instinct to snap his neck was muted by the weight of her duty. If she killed Marcus, then all the other Cronos supporters out there would remain safe.

She wiggled on top of him, flipped him under her, and wrapped her fingers around his throat, forcing him to look into her eyes. “Why, Marcus?” The sad, timid quiver in her voice filled Kyana with shame, but she needed to know. “You know Haven. You
like
her. Why would you hurt her?”

He bucked, and though he was strong, he wasn’t stronger than Kyana. All his efforts gave him was slight mobility of his arm. He smiled, inched his fingers to his chest, and gripped a pink crystal in his fist. Then, he was gone. Air. Kyana found herself on her ass, her cupped hands empty.

“No!” she roared, thrusting herself to her feet and sprinting into the dining room even while knowing it was pointless. “Come back, you bastard!”

Cold arms wrapped around Kyana’s waist, dragging her back into the kitchen and away from the openmouthed patrons. “Come, lass. You won’t be finding him until that charm’s worn off. Haven needs you now. Justice will come later.”

Kyana thrust her elbow into Geoffrey’s gut, but before she could wriggle out of his grasp, he pulled her back into his chest, his breaths now tiny, pain-filled pants. “Not
now
, lass.”

Spinning in his arms to face him, Kyana wanted to claw his eyes out. Wanted to hurt someone,
anyone
, since she couldn’t hurt Marcus. “I’m going to be tried and sentenced very soon, Geoff. How can I die peacefully knowing that sonofabitch is still out there?”

“We need to get Haven to safety.” Geoffrey struggled with his hold on Kyana. “Get your damned priorities straight.”

Kyana’s knees buckled. Geoff caught her before she could go down under the weight of her grief. He was right. In her heart, she knew he was right. That made it no easier to just let Marcus go. No easier to accept that she wouldn’t be the one to deliver justice to the slimy bastard.

Defeated, Kyana looked pleadingly at Geoff. “We need to take Haven somewhere safe and then I’ll turn myself in. If you don’t catch Marcus before my trial, Geoffrey, I’ll haunt you forever. I swear to Zeus.”

“I know, lass.” Sadness crept over Geoff’s face. He reached out, took Kyana’s hand, and pressed it to his lips. She felt like a child afraid of the monster in her closet. Of course, this monster was one she’d created herself.

“Let’s go find her a Healer,” she whispered. “Maybe if we can purge my blood out of her before she turns . . .”

Ryker stepped through the door holding a Styrofoam cup. “This was all I could get. I don’t think it’s eno— What happened? Where’s Haven?”

“Out cold.”As calmly as she could, Kyana told him about Marcus, watched the disbelief turn to anger in his silver eyes.

“You let him get away?” He was searching the kitchen as though he expected to find Marcus stashed in a cabinet.

“Let him?” Kyana roared. “I didn’t
let him
. He used an Illusion Charm. One minute I had my hands around his neck, and the next, I was holding air.”

Muttering, Ryker turned and stomped back down the steps of the cellar. Kyana chased after him, stopping him halfway down. Something brushed her arm and she shrugged it off, yanking Ryker around to face her.

“You can see through my Illusion Charms, why can’t you see through his?”

His eyes narrowed. “Your charm makes people see things that don’t exist, like your clothes. I can see through that,” he snapped. “Marcus is making us
not
see something that is very real—himself and Haven.” His shoulders sagged and he seemed to realize he was taking out his anger on the wrong person. Kyana could understand. She was in the same mindset, only intensified by about two trillion.

“Okay, what about a full god? Maybe Artemis? Have her track Marcus down so I can rip out his heart.”

“Can’t, lass.” Geoffrey approached from behind, making the rickety stairs creak beneath their combined weight. “She can’t leave Beyond. She’s too vulnerable. Even stepping through a portal to get here could drain what little power she has left, and even if she came, I’m pretty sure her powers are too weak to do us much good.”

“Someone tell me again why we’re working so hard to save gods who are so damned worthless?” Both Ryker and Geoff glared at Kyana’s outburst. “Just get Haven so we can get her purged and you two can hunt down Marcus and do what I can’t.”

Geoffrey slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, forcing her to bury her face in his neck. “You can still run, lass.”

She sagged against him, drank in the spicy smell of him. It comforted her. It no longer mattered that she would die without having saved the world. She’d saved Haven. It was enough.

“Geoffrey, I’m sorry. But you can’t run from the gods. This is my home, it’s all I know. If I run, I spend years if I’m lucky hopping from place to place. And eventually, they’ll catch me. I’d rather die with my friends by my side than alone in some dark alley.”

She felt Geoffrey’s head move above hers, looked up to find him staring with pleading eyes at Ryker. Pushing away, she took a moment to gather herself.

“She’s not going to listen to me either,” Ryker said, his voice cold, emotionless, contradicting the softness she found in his eyes. He already counted her dead.

“Let’s go.” Tired of being the focus topic, Kyana stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. “I want Marcus and Drake locked up before my sentencing. I want them to pay before I do, and I want Haven safe.”

But as Kyana peered over Geoffrey’s shoulder into the kitchen, she knew she wasn’t likely to get what she wanted after all. At the top of the stairs, blocking any plans of escape she might have had, stood an army of sentinels. And in their center, Ares. The God of War pulled a broadsword from its sheath on his hip. A slow smile curved his pale lips.

“Seize her.”