Goddess Page 6

  Mom cleared her throat from the doorway. Her blue scrubs had teddy bears on them. “How was the rodeo?”

  “Good. Justin took us out to dinner after.”

  “Us? Is Allison doing better?”

  “She is, but he took me and a new kid from school, Tom Mahoning.” I fidgeted under her scrutiny. Did she see how much I hid from her? Would she understand?

  “I can’t get used to your eyes.” She stepped closer and took a seat on my bed. “It’s remarkable, but I’d like to take you to see Dr. Hubner, just to rule out anything serious. I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just puberty.”

  “Jeez.” I shut the Hales’ book and turned to sit beside her. “I’m eighteen, not twelve. I’m not sick, and who is Dr. Hubner?”

  “A geneticist.”

  “Well, that’s a big no.” Good night! What might a geneticist find in my DNA? No thank you, Mom.

  “Fine. I’ll take your response as a ‘maybe’ and pretend you said you’ll consider it after checking his credentials and running a few searches on eye-color change and the causes.”

  “Not what I said. At all.”

  She fluffed my hair and opened the book lying behind us. “Mythology?”

  “I’m researching Greek and Norse Mythology and where they collide.”

  “For what class?”

  Life. “English. It was choose your topic.”

  Mom’s wide brown eyes narrowed. “And you chose collision in mythology. Not swimming or something you’re interested in or that’s applicable to your life?”

  “I like mythology.”

  “Since when?” She raised both palms. “Never mind. Liam’s into mythology and so you are too. I get it. I was young once. I know things.”

  Oh boy. “You got me.”

  “Found any stories you like?”

  Mom had dozens of books on mythology when I was young. I’d curled up in Dad’s office chair and looked at the pictures until I fell asleep. I’d especially loved the large book she kept on display. It had gilded edges and colored art inside. Not the black-and-white pencil drawings like inside the encyclopedia. She’d taken them away when I was old enough to recognize my namesake, and mother, Calypso, as the villainess she was portrayed to be.

  “Not really. Most of the stories were meant to represent or explain something, so they’re basically nonsensical. I can’t tell what’s real, so I’m reading everything and getting overwhelmed.”

  She frowned. “None of it’s real, Callie. It’s myth-ology.”

  “Oh, I know. I meant…” What did I mean? “Liam says most things are rooted in truth. I guess I’m looking for the truth.”

  “Then maybe trade this book for one with morals to the stories and take away the lessons as the truth.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned my head against her shoulder. “What’s with the teddy bears?”

  “I got the eleven-to-seven shift in pediatrics.” She fell back against my comforter. “No more emergency-room drama. Can you believe it?”

  “Is it permanent?” Mom loved kids, and she deserved a break. The continuous death and tragedy of the ER sucked her soul. She wasn’t cut out for that. She was a save-a-spider’s life kind of woman.

  “Almost. If it works out, my shift could be permanent by the end of the year.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Well, don’t jinx me.” She fingered the cover of my borrowed book. “Would you tell me if something were wrong? Don’t say yes as a reflex. I want to know. If something were really wrong, would you come to me?”

  “Everything’s fine.” The hair on my arm stood on end as the air changed between us.

  “You’re not fine. I’d have to be blind not to see all the changes in you, all the stress you’re under. It’s senior year. You’re gunning for a swim scholarship. There’s pressure for grades, ACT scores, and athletic performance. You work part-time and swim every morning before dawn. You have a boyfriend and drama with Justin. Your other best friend was nearly killed, for goodness’ sake, and both your boss and a girl from school died last month. How are you not falling apart?” She wrapped an arm around my back and squeezed. “It’s no wonder your eye color changed. Stress can do that. I read it somewhere.”

  “I’m not falling apart, because I have you.”

  She guffawed.

  “And Allison didn’t almost die, she survived. Justin and I are working things out, and Liam’s great. School is school and every senior deals with the other stuff you mentioned. Grades, sports, work. We all do that. You did it, too, once. I’m fine. Better than fine. I promise.” The word spoiled on my tongue.

  “Promise?”

  I nodded and Mom grabbed my cheeks in her palms. “I love you so much. You can’t imagine such a love.”

  “I love you too.”

  She swiped invisible tears and kissed me hard on the head. “I’d better go before I’m late on my first night in peds. Lock up after you walk Chester. No parties. No boys.” She jogged down the steps.

  I rolled my eyes and fanned through the musty pages of Liam’s book until they fell open in a natural spread. “Ragnarok.” The drawings depicted a brutal battle. A field knee-deep with blood. I trailed shaky fingertips over the words and read the opening lines. “The prophesied end of the world. All will die. Many gods will meet their demise.” This was what Tom told me about. Breath caught in my throat, and I scanned the list of gods. “Odin will fall at Ragnarok.” My gaze jumped to the window. Were Odin’s ravens still watching me? Did they know?

  The click clack of Chester’s nails drifted up the steps. “Woof.”

  I slapped the book shut. “Chester?”

  His shaggy head cleared the top step and he waited, waving his bushy white tail. “Woof.”

  “You want to go for a walk?”

  He barreled across the hall to my room and jumped against me. His sopping beard dripped fresh water on my face.

  “Gross. Stop.” I rolled free of him and dried my face with the hem of my shirt. “You’re a mess, you know that? You need a beard trimmer for Christmas. Or a straw.”

  “Woof.”

  I followed Chester down the steps to his leash and hooked him up. I grabbed my wool coat and favorite beanie.

  We headed for the Hale family cemetery situated behind the cornfield between our houses, Chester’s favorite place to do doggy business. Chase squirrels, lift his legs on headstones and grunt into the grass. “Make it fast, mister. It’s cold tonight.”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. Liam. “Hello?”

  “You’re not home?”

  “I’m walking Chester. Did you meet with the Fates? See Victoria? Um, Nike? When are you coming back?”

  “I’m back.” His voice sounded in stereo, through the phone and in the space behind me.

  Finally.

  Chester wrapped up his walk with a little encouragement and I pulled Liam behind me to my room and shut the door. “Tell me everything.”

  He tilted his ear toward one shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not okay. I’m overwhelmed and I was worried.” I sat on the edge of my bed.

  He stepped closer. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “I’m glad you think so. I’m losing it. I walked out of the rodeo earlier today. This empath gift is a nightmare.” Memories of the oppressive sensation swept over me. “It’s exhausting. Frustrating. Nauseating.”

  Liam stroked my hair and pressed a palm to my cheek. “You’re flushed. Do you feel sick now?”

  “No. I feel very wound up.”

  He stepped back to examine me. “I think you need more aggressive physical outlets. A way to blow off the excess.”

  I deflated a little. “Swimming isn’t a challenge anymore. I have to hold back so I don’t win by too much.”

  “You barely fight back at battle practice. Maybe that will help. We can run some drills now if you want. I know what it feels like. Like a shaken soda
can waiting to burst.”

  I shook a finger at him. “Yes.”

  Liam cradled my jaw in his palm. “Your gift would be a burden to anyone, but I know you’ll adjust. Give it time.”

  My spine stiffened. “This isn’t all about me. It’s you, too.”

  He furrowed his brow and dropped his hand from my face. “Me?”

  “You showed up at my work to announce you were leaving. You’d already decided, packed and were on your way to see the Fates without even telling me it was an option. You talk about how strong we’ll be with me leading the men, then you leave me out of major decisions. You know I’m terrified I’ll fail. I can’t get past that if you don’t believe in me.” I held a palm up between us. “I don’t need to hear the words. I need to see the action. Show me you believe in me. Start treating me like your partner. The men need to see that. I need to see that.”

  Liam took my hand and pulled me up to him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. So, what happened with the Fates?”

  He entwined our fingers and tugged me closer. “They alerted us to a new Viking. He’s one of ours, and he’ll be added to the ranks of Watchers. We’ll be stronger now. With the Stians at bay, and more new Vikings coming, we’ll find them faster with more Watchers. The cycle is finally turning in our favor again. I’m sure you’re the reason. Let me prove to you I mean that.”

  Liam’s lips pressed my ear. “I missed you.”

  I tilted my face to admire his clear green eyes. “Me too.”

  “You seem calmer.”

  I leaned my chest against his until he alone held me upright. “I am. I think I’m leeching off your Zen. I’m not totally calm, but it’s manageable with you here. For example: I don’t want to punch you anymore.”

  “No?” He chuckled.

  I lifted onto my tiptoes and kissed the underside of Liam’s jaw. “Huh-uh.” I dragged a fingertip along the waist of his jeans, beneath his T-shirt, and moved my lips to his earlobe. “No more secrets?”

  “No.”

  A restless sensation crept through me. “Promise?”

  He squeezed my hips. “Trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Now you rest. You refuse to take care of yourself, so I’m stepping in.”

  My limbs grew heavy. “Are you using your influence on me?” I yawned. “You’re making me tired.”

  Liam laid me on the bed and climbed in behind me. He pulled the comforter over our shoulders. “You are tired. I’m suggesting you get some rest.”

  I didn’t get to tell him he was full of crap or that he had no right to use his power of influence on me. I just drifted into the abyss wrapped in an iron blanket of assurance.

  First thing in the morning, he was in trouble.

  Chapter 5

  I squirmed against the cracked vinyl of Mom’s passenger seat.

  “You ready for the meet?” Mom wiggled her key into the ignition.

  “I’m ready.”

  She turned onto Route 212 and headed for the highway. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Good.”

  A crazy shiver rocked Mom’s body. The Bronco’s heater only worked half the time and unpredictably. The vehicle was a relic from the nineteen hundreds, but it was ours. Dad didn’t own it. He didn’t control it. He couldn’t snatch it away when we weren’t looking.

  She rubbed her fuzzy mittens together at the stoplight and peeked in my direction. Breath escaped her chattering teeth in clouds of white steam that fogged the windows. “Learn anything interesting for your English paper?”

  “Not really.”

  The light changed and Mom eased through the intersection on another frame-rocking shiver. “Ugh. I know it’s November, but this is ridiculous. I don’t think it’s ever been this cold so early in the season. The weatherman behaved as if it weren’t happening. He said to expect predictable fall temperatures today. What an idiot.”

  “I guess.” Weathermen were usually wrong, as far as I could tell.

  My thoughts circled through the massive changes in my life and what, if anything, I could do about them.

  I’d promised Zeus I’d lead the Vikings, but I had no idea how to do that. My mind restlessly compiled lists of mounting problems and posed multiple awful outcomes. Justin’s lost memories were coming back. If his did, Allison’s might, too. They’d be furious. I hadn’t been alone in weeks, but I’d never been lonelier. Liam was hiding things from me. He’d practically knocked me out last night when I pushed him to promise he wouldn’t keep secrets. I pinched the skin between my thumb and first finger to redirect my frustration. What kind of person did that? What was wrong with him?

  “Callie?” Mom patted my leg with one mittened hand. “You okay?”

  I glanced at Mom. “What do you remember about Zeus?”

  “What?”

  “Zeus. Do you remember anything about him?”

  She twisted her mouth into a little knot. “I remember he was the father of all gods and he had a temper. It’s been a while since I read any mythology, but I remember he was powerful, fickle, and big on punishment.”

  She flipped on her signal and eased onto an off-ramp. “Oh, and you didn’t want to cross him. I think he was the original Sicilian.” She broke into her uncanny mobster impression. “Break a promise to him, he’d break your face.”

  “He was Greek.” Not Sicilian. He was Greek. Odin and Ragnarok were Norse. Did that matter? If Ragnarok was coming, Zeus wouldn’t ask me to get involved in a Norse battle. Technically, it was an end-of-the-world battle, but I owed Zeus, not Odin, so maybe my Vikings and I wouldn’t be asked to get involved.

  “Here we are.” Mom slid into a spot near the Canton Natatorium and shifted into park. “Looks like a good turnout. You might have some tough competition today. Maybe there’ll be a scout or two in the stands.” Her eyes widened and she took my hand. “This is your day. Anything can happen.”

  She said that every time.

  I grabbed my phone to check messages before handing it over to Mom. Four new texts.

  The first text was from Liam. “Mason got a lead on another descendant. Be back soon. Told you. You’re good luck.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” I ground my teeth.

  The next text was from Justin. “Kick some swimmer ass.”

  Liam again. “Enjoy your swim.”

  Jerk.

  And Dad. “Don’t forget. Lunch at the club.”

  Bleh.

  Mom opened her door and a blast of arctic air rushed inside. “Everything okay?”

  “Yep.” I dashed to her side and handed over my phone. We ran to the building while relentless winds whipped a fresh dusting of snow around our ankles and cooled my rising temperature. Mom was right. The weatherman was an idiot.

  She passed me on the sidewalk and pulled the thick glass door open.

  Time to face the other thing I’d avoided. “I’m having lunch with Dad today.”

  Her gentle smile surprised me. “I know.”

  She knew? “You’re okay with that?” He’d said he talked to her first. I didn’t one hundred percent believe him.

  She nudged me forward, making way for incoming families. “He’s your father. You’re an adult, and I’m over it. Besides, I’m doing pretty well without him. We both are. Don’t you think?”

  I stepped deeper into the humid building and sighed. “Fine. Be grown up about it. I’ll fill you in when I get home.”

  “Deal, but don’t be mean.” She bumped me with her hip.

  * * * *

  I texted Justin from outside Dad’s country club. “Pick me up in thirty. Interrupt if necessary.”

  Justin responded instantly. “Permission to make a scene?”

  Oh, absolutely. “Permission granted.”

  I shoved my phone into one pocket and silently practiced the bitter lines. “Nice to see you, Dad. Thanks for inviting
me. College? Well, I’m hoping for a swim scholarship, but if that falls through, I might need some help with tuition.” I kicked the toe of my boot against the sidewalk.

  Asking for help wasn’t my idea of a good time. Asking Dad for anything grated my already frayed nerves, but it was him or the Hales. Relying on help from an untrustworthy father was one thing. Living off my boyfriend’s family’s money was another. If I didn’t already owe Grand Pappy Zeus a favor, I might’ve preferred to ask him for the bank.

  Dad pushed through the clubhouse doors in a panic. His mood and expression settled immediately. “There you are. Your mother texted me when she dropped you off. I thought you’d be at our table ten minutes ago. Your coffee’s getting cold.” He pressed a hand to the small of my back and guided me inside without a hello. The doorman stared straight ahead like a member of the Palace Guard, while I rolled my eyes hard enough to hurt.

  The clubhouse dining room bustled with activity. Waiters in black ties and green aprons darted from one packed table to another, delivering water, congeniality, and the finest hospitality money could buy. Every table had an occupant.

  “I think someone took your table.” It didn’t break my heart. I’d rather have a burger or Roll With It anyway.

  “No.” He blew the word out on a ragged breath.

  Absurdity. As if someone could ever take anything from him.

  “We’re right over here.”

  We stopped at a round table covered in a long white cloth and topped with a smaller burgundy one. The table was too large for the two of us, but that wasn’t a problem, considering the strawberry-blonde seated across from us.

  Dad pulled my chair away from the table and motioned me to sit. I accepted, confused. She didn’t look like a swim scout and Dad rarely had business lunches on weekends. I didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t from Zoar. Her red wrap dress dipped low enough to show a hint of black lace on her bra. She looked high end and young but married, judging by the size of the boulder on her ring finger.

  Dad took the seat between us so we formed an uncomfortable triangle with me at the apex. “This is Ginger.”