The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (14 page)

Malice dripped from his words, and his voice was filled with venom. Across the room Henry tensed, but he said nothing. The urge to speak up for him was overwhelming, and I badly wanted to tell whoever it was that he was an idiot and I stayed because I wanted to help Henry, not because he was forcing me, but the words died on my lips. I'd gone for months without answers. I couldn't give up any chance I might have at finally getting them.

“Let her go,” said the voice, quieter this time. “Persephone didn't love you, and you can't replace her no matter how hard you look. Even if you could, Kate isn't that person.”

“She could be.” Henry's words came out choked. “My sister thinks she is.”

“My aunt is too blinded by guilt and determination to see the situation clearly. Please, Henry.” The floor creaked again as he stepped toward Henry. I could make out his arm now, and he wore a black jacket that looked far too thin for November. “Let her go before she dies, too. We both know it's only a matter of time, and if you care about her at all, you'll let her go before she becomes another victim.” He paused, and I held my breath. “Eleven girls are already dead because of you. Don't turn Kate into the twelfth because of your selfishness.”

The sound of breaking glass exploded inches away from me. I gasped and stumbled backward, and my ankle twisted underneath me again. I cried out, falling to the ground. The door opened, and the blood drained from my face when I saw who was on the other side.

James.

“You're in on this, too?” My voice was hoarse, and I stared at James in disbelief. He looked exactly like I remembered him from school—ears sticking out, his blond hair a mess, and his massive headphones wrapped around his neck.

“Kate—” he started, but Henry appeared in the door, and he pushed James aside. When Henry offered me his hand, I took it, glaring at James.

“What's going on?” The words came out strangled, and I could hardly see straight, but I wasn't going to give either of them a way out. “Tell me. First Sofia, then Irene, now you—”

“Perhaps it would be best if we continued this conversation inside,” said Henry with a grimace. I gritted my teeth and nodded, leaning on him as he helped me into the room.

Inside, I realized it was a bedroom. While it wasn't dusty, it had the feeling of disuse, and as Henry helped me maneuver around the broken glass on the hardwood floor, I saw a mangled frame lying on the ground, its picture bent and torn. Smiling up at me was the photograph of a girl who couldn't have been much older than me, with freckled cheeks and strawberry-blond
hair. Next to her stood Henry, and he looked much happier than I'd ever seen him, all of the tension from his body gone.

“Who's that?” I said, but I had a sinking feeling I already knew.

Henry glanced at the picture, and pain flashed across his face. He waited until he'd helped me to the bed before answering, and even then he wouldn't look me in the eye. “Persephone,” he said in a fragile voice that threatened to break. “A very long time ago.”

“Not too long ago,” I said, eyeing the image. “Not if you had cameras around.”

“It is not a photograph,” he said, bending down to retrieve it. “It is a reflection. Look.”

His hands shook as he handed me the picture, and as I examined it, I noticed it had a depth to it that photographs didn't. It seemed to shimmer, as if it was a pool of water, and Persephone and Henry were moving. Not so much that it looked like a home movie, but she blinked, and I could see his arms tighten around her.

“She's beautiful,” I said softly. Part of me was jealous, knowing I could never live up to her memory, but I was so consumed by sadness for what Henry must have gone through that I pushed it aside. “I'm sorry.”

He waved dismissively, as if it were no big deal, but when I handed the picture back to him, he took it gently and passed his hand over the surface. It smoothed out as if it had never been damaged. “As I said, it was a long time ago.”

A cough tore my attention away from him, and I looked up to see James lingering near the doorway. My eyes narrowed. “What?”

“You asked why I was here.” He crossed his arms and leaned
against the door, shutting it firmly. Behind it I heard a squeak. Ava was still out there, but this wasn't something I wanted her to overhear.

“And you still haven't told me.” I winced as Henry gently touched my ankle.

“He is my successor,” said Henry, and I looked at him sharply. “He will take over my duties if I fade.”

A wave of horror washed over me, and I stared at James, disgusted. “Is that why you tried to stop me from coming here? You knew I was his last chance, and you thought if you stopped me, you'd have a clear shot at the winner's circle?”

“There is no winner's circle,” said James. “It isn't some competition, all right? This is hard on all of us. We've been trying for a century to find someone to take Persephone's place, and if we don't—”

“If you don't, then you get to take Henry's place,” I snapped. “Yet here you are, trying to ruin it for him.”

“Because I thought you wanted out,” he said, his jaw clenched so tightly that I could see a muscle twitch. “You
said
—”

“Henry was right. I didn't understand, and I'm not about to walk away and kill him if I can help it.”

James shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I never thought you would. But the terms of the agreement are final, and if you want to leave, there isn't anything we can do to stop you. If Henry holds you here against your will, then we have every right to step in.”

“Wait,” I said as what he was saying slowly dawned on me. “What do you mean,
we?
”

Next to me, Henry frowned, his brow furrowing so deeply that for a moment he didn't look like himself. “James,” he said, a warning.

James straightened, his arms falling to his side. “I don't care if she knows.”

“The others will,” he said, but he made no move to stop him.

James took a hesitant step toward me, as if he wanted to reach out to me, but I gave him a cold look, and he fell short. “I'm a member of the council.”

My heart nearly stopped. “You're on the council?” I sputtered. “You can't be. You're—
you
.”

“Astute observation,” he said, more to himself than to me. “Listen, Kate—I don't care if you believe me or not. Well, no, I'd like it if you did, but I don't expect you to. You can hate me all you want for trying to take you away from Henry, but I'm only trying to do what's best for you.”

“And you think what's best for me is to live the rest of my life knowing I'm the reason Henry dies?” Hot tears threatened to spill out of my eyes, but I blinked them back, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Not to mention what's going to happen to my mother.”

“You wouldn't remember any of this if you decide to leave,” said James. “That's also part of the deal.”

“
Enough
about this stupid deal.” My voice broke, and my cheeks turned hot. “This is my decision, not yours. You can't go behind my back and end this just because you think you know what's best for me. I get to say when this is over, not you.”

I looked back and forth between Henry and James to make sure they were both paying attention, but Henry was concentrating on my ankle, his head bent and his eyes closed. A thick warmth spread out from my knee to my toes, and Henry wrapped his hands around the joint, gently moving it in a circle.

“Does this hurt?” he said, and I shook my head. He set my leg down, and I gingerly pulled it toward me, wiggling my toes. It didn't ache anymore.

“How did you—” I started, my anger momentarily forgotten, and Henry shrugged.

“You're not supposed to heal her,” said James from across the room. Henry righted himself, and even from the side, I could see the deadened look in his eyes.

“It seems we are breaking all sorts of rules tonight.” He stood. “If you will excuse me.”

Before I could protest, he was gone, leaving me and James alone in the room together. I stood as well, testing my ankle. It was solid.

“It wasn't my choice, you know,” said James quietly. “Taking over for him if you fail. I'm the only member of the council who knows the Underworld as well as he does.”

“But you still wanted it,” I said.

He looked away, out a dark bay window and on to the grounds. The moon was nearly full, and I could see the tops of the bare trees rustling in the November wind. “We last as long as what we represent does. Minor gods fade all the time when they're forgotten, but the council isn't minor. As long as humanity exists, there will always be love and war. There will always be music and art, literature and peace, and marriage and children and travelers. But humanity won't last forever, and after it fades, so will we. Only death will remain.”

“And if you control the Underworld, you get to survive even after everything else is gone?” I said it as a question, but I already knew the answer, and a knot formed in my throat. “That's what this is about?”

“No. This right here, this is about making sure you survive. I
don't want you to die, Kate—please. None of us do, and Henry gave up a long time ago. Maybe he's trying for you, but not because he wants to continue—he just doesn't want you to be killed, that's all.”

I paused. “Is there a good chance of that?”

James looked at me, and I could see the naked fear in his eyes. “No one's survived past Christmas. Please. Henry doesn't want this. He's always going to be in love with Persephone, not you. Look around you—look at where you are. This was her bedroom.”

There was nothing unusual about the room, only the picture that Henry had thrown at James. But the more I studied my surroundings, the more I really saw it. It was like a child's room that a parent didn't dare touch after tragedy struck. There were old-fashioned hairpins on the vanity in the corner, and the curtains were drawn to let the sunlight in. There was even a dress lying out in the corner, waiting to be worn. It was like it was frozen in time, lying untouched for centuries until Persephone returned.

“That reflection—” James gestured to the image of Persephone and Henry together, looking so happy. “It isn't real. It's a wish, a dream, a hope, not a memory. He loved her so much that he'd have torn the world apart if she asked him to, but she could barely stand to look at him. Ever since she died, he's been begging the council to release him and let him fade. Do you really think you can compete with that?”

“It isn't a competition,” I said roughly, echoing his words from before. But even as I said it, I knew it was. If I couldn't make Henry care about me, he would have no reason to continue, and in his mind, I would always be pitted against Perseph one. But that was no reason to stop fighting for him. He deserved
a chance at happiness just like I did, and I wasn't ready to tell yet another person in my life goodbye.

James's expression softened. “He'll never love you, Kate, not the way you deserve to be loved. He gave up a long time ago, and all you're doing is prolonging the pain for him. It would be kinder to leave him be.”

I stepped closer to James, torn between anger and a pressing need to touch him, to make sure my James was still there underneath the cunning god he'd suddenly become, saying all the words he thought I needed to hear to convince me to leave. To steal eternity from Henry and hand it to him. “And you think I should?” I said. I was barely a foot away from him now. “You think I should give up and leave him, just like Persephone left?”

“Persephone had her reasons,” said James. “He took her away from everything she ever loved, and he forced her to stay with him when she didn't want to. You'd have done the same.”

I was silent. The difference between me and Persephone was that she'd had something left to lose. James reached forward timidly, and I let him wrap his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. I heard him inhale deeply, and I wondered if he could smell the lavender of my shampoo, or if it was my fear and guilt and determination he sensed instead. After a tense moment, I returned the embrace.

“Please don't do this to yourself, Kate,” he mumbled into my ear. I closed my eyes, and for a moment I pretended that he was just James again. Not Henry's rival, not the god poised to gain everything from my failure, but my James.

“Will you do something for me?” I said against his chest.

“Of course,” he said. “Anything.”

I let go of him. “Get the hell away from me, and don't come back until spring.”

His eyes widened. “Kate—”

“I mean it.” My voice shook, but I stood firm. “Get out.”

Stunned, he stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something, but then he turned away and walked out, leaving me alone in Persephone's bedroom.

I'd spent four years refusing to let my mother give up, and I wasn't about to let Henry do the same. If he wouldn't keep going for himself, then I'd come up with a way to make him keep going for me instead.

 

Hours later, long after the moon had risen so high in the sky that I could no longer see it from my window, I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. I wanted to sleep and tell my mother everything I'd learned, to ask her what I could possibly do to convince Henry to try, but I knew there was nothing she could tell me that I didn't already know. It wasn't up to her to fix this; I was the one who'd made the deal, and I wasn't going to give up so easily.

In the small hours of the morning, I heard a soft knock on my door, and I buried my face in my pillow. Ava was gone when I'd crept out of Persephone's room, and I wasn't in the mood to tell her what had happened. I needed a day or two to figure things out for myself before the entire manor knew, too, if they didn't already.

Even though I stayed silent, I heard the door open and shut, and soft footsteps fell against the carpet. I remained as still as possible, hoping whoever it was would go away.

“Kate?”

I didn't have to turn around to recognize Henry's voice. Something thrummed inside of me, a familiar note that sent a wave of comfort through my tense body, but I still didn't face him.

He moved so quietly that I didn't know he was close until I felt the mattress give way. It was a long moment before he said anything. “I'm sorry.” His voice was hollow. “You shouldn't have seen that.”

“I'm glad I did.”

“And why is that?”

I refused to answer. How was I supposed to tell him that I didn't want him to give up? I was risking everything for him—and I would gladly do it, but I wouldn't let it be for nothing. I couldn't make him fight, but I would find a reason for him not to fade.

I heard Henry sigh. Forcing silence was only hurting things, so finally I said into my pillow, “Why didn't you tell me about James earlier?”

“Because I thought you might react this way, and I wanted to keep you from this pain for as long as possible.”

“Knowing it's him doesn't hurt,” I said. “What hurts is that no one trusts me with anything around here.”

I felt his hand on my arm, but it only lasted for a moment. “Then I will make the effort to trust you with more. I apologize.”