Goddess Read online

  I glanced at the clock.

  Mason dropped the lights into the box. “I received a text message.”

  “When?” She pressed a hand to one hip. “Isn’t that your phone?” Lying on the table where he’d sat with her before. Why, yes it was.

  “They’re late, really.” I cleared my throat, stumbling through a pathetic explanation. “It’s nearly eight. Didn’t they say they’d stop in at seven-thirty?” I arched a brow to my hairline, hoping Mason would catch up.

  The little bell over the front door jingled and Liam and Oliver strode inside. Liam stopped at the counter across from me. Tension rolled off him in sickening waves.

  Mason dusted his palms together and dropped the decorations box back onto the wagon. “Everything okay?” His anxiety added to the brew of emotions filling the room. Lust from Oliver. Anticipation from Allison. Dread from Liam.

  “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t hold the words inside. Dinner lurched in my stomach.

  Liam tipped his head toward the door. “Oliver wants to borrow some money from Mason.”

  “Big date?” Allison leaned across the counter on her elbows, dropping her cleavage into view. As if that was needed. Oliver’s hormones were enough to make me crazy, without her boobs in clear view.

  “Callie?” Liam stepped closer to the door and I followed.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  Liam held the door for me and motioned to a bench outside the window. I couldn’t sit. Sitting meant bad news. If I didn’t sit, maybe he’d hold whatever awful thing he’d come to say.

  “Oliver and I are leaving tonight. We’re going to visit the Fates. Hopefully we can get some answers or, at the very least, a little guidance. We’d also like to talk with Nike.”

  “You’re leaving tonight?”

  “We believe sooner is better in this case.”

  “Did something happen?” Was it something I did? Or didn’t do? Was it the men who left us? Were more on their way out?

  Liam stroked a steady hand from my shoulder to wrist, stopping to intertwine our fingers. “We’re being preemptive. The Stians are in the wind. I suspect they’re regrouping. They’ll want to gather forces, and then they’ll come for you. They’ll strike as soon as possible. Before you’re ready.”

  “And I’m not ready. Obviously.”

  “Callie.”

  I was right about the Stians. I waved him off, detangling our fingers and took a seat on the bench. “Sorry. I’m not used to failing, and it’s making me mean.”

  He swung into the space beside me. “Nonsense. You had a temper before we met. It’s one of the things that drew me to you, if I’m being honest.”

  “Well, that’s not healthy.”

  He wrapped one long arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “You looked so small, hidden inside your hoodies, letting painfully straight hair hide your face.” He tugged a length of wild hair blowing between us. “You seemed so fragile and insignificant.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And then Kirk taunted you outside a classroom and you dismissed him with complete indifference. As if this boy, almost twice your size, was no more than a fly buzzing at a picnic. When I thought the scene was over, you turned your tongue on him, sliced him in half, and walked away.” He chuckled. “It was fascinating, but you were a distraction I couldn’t afford.”

  “You saw me before that. I ran into you in the hallway.”

  “I didn’t get a look at you then. I was following Justin. He had your bag on his shoulder. Another young couple in love.”

  The door popped open, and Oliver did a fancy spin onto the sidewalk. “Who has a date with Allison the moment we return, Brother?”

  Liam stretched to his feet, abandoning the topic of Justin and me with relief. “Mason?”

  Oliver tipped his head back and laughed. “Never.”

  “You asked her out.” Terror clutched my soul. “Where are you taking her?”

  “Anywhere she’d like.” He froze and squinted at me. “Does she like Paris?”

  “Sure, sure. Or, maybe dinner in town.”

  “She’d like that? Dinner here?” He glanced down the cobblestone street behind him.

  “Yeah.” She’d like anything involving Oliver, but I wasn’t about to share that little tidbit. His ego barely fit inside the ozone as it was.

  Oliver stepped away from the doorway as a man approached. I rubbed my eyes, refocusing on the apparition. There was no way.

  “Callie.” Dad stopped at Oliver’s side. An uncertain smile tugged his lips. Anxiety rippled off him, shocked through with shards of joy. “Do you have a minute?”

  Liam’s gaze burned my cheek. Oliver sized Dad up.

  I took a deep breath. “Sure. Guys, this is my dad. Dad, this is Liam Hale, my boyfriend, and his brother, Oliver.”

  Dad wrinkled his forehead. “What happened to Justin?”

  Oliver coughed into his fist. “That sounds like our cue. Let’s go, Brother.”

  Liam extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ingram.” He kissed my head and followed Oliver to the sleek black Mercedes at the curb.

  “You, too.” Dad released a low wolf whistle as the car purred to life. “Nice wheels.”

  “You wanted to talk to me?”

  Happiness overtook his face. “I’d like to invite you to dinner at the club. I’ve already spoken with your mother. No need to worry about treason,” he teased.

  The Mercedes rolled past at a crawl. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped a quick text to Liam. We needed to talk before he left town, or Earth? Where did the Fates live? I pressed my eyes closed before they started glowing. Silly as it seemed, I wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t notice.

  “Okay.” I nodded and peeked my lids open one at a time.

  “Okay? That’s it? No fight?”

  I pressed my lips tight over my teeth. “Nope.” How long had Mom known about Dad’s pending ambush? She had been odd lately. What did Dad want? Was it about money for college? The Hales had assured me they’d cover my college costs, but I couldn’t explain that to my parents. I had to either earn a scholarship or choose a school where I could pretend I’d earned one. My new abilities gave me an unfair edge that complicated everything. Could I take someone else’s hard-earned swim scholarship when I had water nymph blood flowing through me?

  Maybe accepting Dad’s money was the answer. I gagged silently. “No fight.”

  His smile widened. Since when did he smile?

  “I’d better get back to work. I’ll text you later with my swim schedule.”

  “Sounds great.” He clapped his hands together. “Really great.”

  “Uh-huh.” I eyeballed the stranger inhabiting my dad’s body. “So, I’ll text you later?”

  “Yes. I’ll be waiting.” He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and made a show of cranking up the volume. “Text anytime. I’ll hear it anywhere I go.”

  Good grief. I opened the door and walked inside before things got any stranger. The comforting scent of fresh-baked rolls eased my nerves. I tipped my head and rolled my shoulders to unhinge the kink in my back. It didn’t work.

  “Was that your dad?” Allison rubbed her hands into her apron, looking horrified at the rhetorical question. If anyone hated Dad for cheating as much as Mom and me, it was Allison. “What did he want?”

  “He invited me to dinner.”

  She harrumphed.

  “And apparently Liam’s leaving town.” He and his brothers had made the decision without me. Probably during one of their private lunches where they discussed telling Allison the truth. Also without me. He didn’t need my permission to go, but in Viking matters, it would be nice to be included. How could I ever take the reins as leader if the Hales handled everything without me?

  Outside, Dad tapped the screen of his phone and crossed the street without looking both ways. A girl in a motorcycle jacket and skinny jeans followed him. She looked over he
r shoulder before dropping onto the seat of a black Harley Sportster and securing a helmet over long black braided hair.

  Dad climbed into a giant red Hummer. Freud would have a field day.

  The girl pulled a U-turn on her motorcycle, passing the window with a roar that stood every hair on my arm at attention. Instinct tightened my chest. She was dangerous. At least she wasn’t a Stian. I rubbed my arms and inhaled. Vikings weren’t women.

  Allison craned her neck to watch the motorcycle fly out of sight. “Whoa. Did you see that chic? Killer boots. The bike. The jacket. That girl is rock-and-roll.”

  I scoffed. “I doubt that.” No. Whoever she was, she was something else entirely.

  Chapter 4

  Turned out high school wasn’t the worst place a new empath could go.

  “Yee haw!” Justin whipped his hat in circles over his head. “Did you see that? Did you see him?” He was on his feet before I answered, banging calloused hands together and vibrating with excitement.

  Rodeos were worse than high school.

  The bleachers rumbled as hundreds of onlookers pounded boots against the metal. My head, heart, and tummy ebbed and dropped on waves of panic, terror, and joy. The other five senses, the normal ones, prayed for death. Rodeos were notoriously loud and hot. Indoor rodeos were worse. Everything was trapped. Even the comforting scents of popcorn and sawdust were too much to handle.

  Justin collapsed onto the bench beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m up in three. Be right back.” He jogged down the bleachers, as someone weaseled in front of me and dropped into his empty seat. The cloud of confusion he brought with him drew my attention. “Tom?”

  I twisted left and right, looking for other familiar faces. “Are you alone?”

  “Do you mean, is Liam here? No. He and Oliver are still away.”

  “Right.”

  Tom examined me. “Are you angry I’m here?”

  “No. Sorry. I’m kind of pissed at Liam. He didn’t even talk with me before deciding to visit the Fates. I’m a total mess over here, trying to figure out how I can be the kind of woman an enormous clan of warriors would want to follow. I can’t even get my boyfriend to tell me before he leaves town.” I dropped my head forward and groaned. “He says we’re partners, but partners talk about this stuff. Right?”

  “Popcorn?” He shook a bag in my direction.

  I took it. “Thanks.”

  “Should I ask what’s going on with you and Justin?”

  I shoved a fistful of popcorn into my mouth. “Everything’s so complicated.” I waved the bag of popcorn around. “This was supposed to fix that.”

  “Your date?”

  “It’s not a date. We’re trying to hang out alone. Reconnect. It’s always been just us and now there’s Liam and it’s…” I searched for a better word and failed. “Complicated.”

  Tom stole a handful of popcorn from the bag. “They had fried pickles.”

  “You don’t want one.”

  “Fried butter?”

  I shook my head. My mom would die.

  “Fried Snickers.”

  I’d always wanted to try those. “Popcorn’s my favorite.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “With what? My guy problems?”

  He made a face and shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not bad at listening, but I thought I could answer questions about our world. I’m not as old as many, but I’ve picked up a few things. Maybe I can help you study the past while you acclimate to the present.”

  “What do you know about the Fates?”

  “I know they predict things, seem to get them wrong half the time and talk in riddles to make everyone think they’d somehow misinterpreted. The Hales have an extensive collection on the Fates. On every topic, really. I can help you choose a few and you can bounce your questions off me as they come up.”

  I nodded. That’s what I needed. More information and time to learn the ropes. “Hey, have the Fates made any big predictions like Nostradamus did? World wars? Falling skies? Stuff like that?” If I was going to live forever, I might as well get a heads-up, right?

  His cheeks darkened. “Ragnarok.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head. “What.”

  “What?”

  “Ragnarok is the end of times for us.”

  “When?”

  “They don’t say.”

  Huh. “Well, that’s lovely. I’ve never met the Fates and I already don’t like them. Let’s hope they’re as accurate as human prophets then.”

  He faced forward. “Justin’s next.”

  Justin’s head and torso appeared on a jumbo screen above the sawdust arena. His blue eyes sparkled under a brown Stetson. He’d stripped free of his blue plaid button-down in favor of a soft gray cotton shirt that clung to his frame like a sticker. A big white square on his back identified him as number forty-four.

  The light bar dropped from yellow to green and the gate on Justin’s stall swung wide, expelling the bull at full force with Justin anchored to his back. A tightly braided rope tied his hand to the wildly bucking bull. Aside from the rope, Justin and his beast were one. No saddles or reins, just a boy and his bull.

  “How does he stay up there? Why does he wave?”

  “He stays on by core and leg strength mostly and he’s not waving. Riders can’t touch the bull or themselves with their free hand, so they keep it up or they’re disqualified.”

  “What if they fall?”

  “They let go and try not to be trampled or gored.”

  He cringed. “Are they hurt badly?”

  “Sometimes a few bruises or broken bones. Sometimes a hospital stay.” Sometimes worse.

  The crowd jumped to its feet as Justin dismounted the bull, hands in the air. He jogged to the fence and threw himself over in one lithe movement.

  Tom scoffed. “That’s it?”

  “Eight seconds. I guess they’re longer if you’re the one on the bull.”

  Air horns honked. People cheered.

  Justin took the bleacher steps two at a time, slapping high fives to onlookers as he passed. His steps slowed at the sight of Tom, but he still pulled me off my feet and arched his back until I dangled in his grip, pressed tight to his chest. Adrenaline and what I assumed was testosterone soaked through my skin.

  Justin dropped me on my feet. I stumbled for balance.

  Tom caught my elbow. “I’d like to try that.”

  “You want to learn to ride?” Justin slid onto the bench between Tom and me.

  I puffed for air, unable to sit. The crowd was on its feet again, cheering for the next rider’s success. The surrounding inferno of emotions burned through me, like a lit fuse. “Be right back.”

  I ran up the bleachers, past concessions and into the waning sunlight. I pressed both palms to my knees and inhaled slowly, sloughing off the overload and sucking down the fresh air. Muffled arena sounds rumbled inside the building. The keys to Justin’s Jeep jangled in my hoodie pocket. I crossed the lot to overflow parking, where the farmer charged three bucks to park in his muddy field. I waded through random patches of wildflowers and lines of pickup trucks and horse trailers.

  Brisk autumn air cleared my brain of the emo fog and relaxed my aching muscles. I shook my hands out at the wrists and took some more calming breaths. I passed a cowgirl on a tailgate with boots locked around her cowboy’s legs and a mom wiping tears from a toddler’s cheek before I reached the oversize, off-road, eco-catastrophe Justin called his truck. The open-top Jeep had seen some interesting things in its short life. I beeped the doors unlocked and climbed into the passenger seat. A handful of people moseyed past the grill. Older folks always made a move for their vehicles before the award ceremony.

  I rolled my head against the seat and closed my eyes, reliving a few of the memories I’d made in the Jeep with Justin and Allison the week he brought it home from a big win in Wyoming. Local events
were nothing to professionals like Justin and his rodeo friends. At national events, cowboys competed for big money, buckles, and pride. They competed here for fun. Honestly, the grand prize could be ten bucks. It wasn’t about the prize. For Justin, it was about the ride.

  Someone slapped the Jeep’s roof and I jumped. Tom and Justin laughed outside my window.

  I pushed my door open and Justin tossed a shirt in my face. “Your prize, dear cowgirl.”

  “Prize for what?” How long had I had my eyes closed?

  His lips hitched up until his dimple caved in. “Knowing a ball-bustin’ bull rider.” He bowed dramatically.

  “You’re a dork.” I shoved him upright and handed him his keys. “What’d you win?”

  “Second prize. Fifty-dollar gift card for Burger Bar. You hungry?”

  “Pft.” I snapped on my seat belt and waited for Justin to shut my door.

  He popped open the back passenger door and motioned for Tom to jump in. “Come on, cowboy. I’ll bring you back to your car after we eat.”

  Justin climbed behind the wheel and stared into my eyes. “I can’t get used to those eyes.” He rumbled the Jeep to life and shook his head.

  There was a touch of sudden, unexplained frustration as Justin waited to pull onto the main road. He narrowed his eyes. “I just remembered a dream I had last night. You were in it.”

  “Me?”

  Waves of curiosity crashed over me like a frying pan to the head.

  He shifted into neutral and turned a questioning gaze on me. “I was drowning and you saved me.”

  My chest tightened. Was that just a dream or a memory coming back to light?

  I opened my mouth to change the subject but nothing came out.

  A chill ran down my arms as the familiar rumble of a motorcycle shook the air. A Harley Davidson Sportster ripped down the road in front of us. Long black hair waved like a pirate banner behind the driver.

  * * * *

  I flipped the pages of a monstrous tome borrowed from Hale Manor. The title on the spine was World History. It was Volume One of about ten million on mythology and highly recommended by Tom. The book happened to cover stories regarding the literal history of the world. Like how the world got here. I rolled onto my back, defeated. Why had I ever thought I was smart? How could I process the infinite crazy of mythology?