Seduced by Danger

by Stephanie Julian

  No doubt about it. Somehow, Cara had wound up in the Etruscan version of the Twilight Zone.

  After she poured herself a cup of coffee, she took a muffin from the drawer and sat at the kitchen table, wondering, for some strange reason, how all this would seem to an eteri.

  Flesh-and-blood deities, half-goat men, women who incited lust in the men around them and needed sex to live.

  The eteri doctors would lock her away in a little white room somewhere, feeding her antipsychotic drugs and pudding.

  Nortia was right though. The muffins were fantastic.

  Well, of course, she was right. She was a goddess.

  “That doesn’t mean we’re always correct.”

  Cara quickly swallowed the food in her mouth and went to rise, but Hinthial waved her back into her seat and took one across the table from her.

  “In Sal’s home, we don’t stand on ceremony,” Hinthial said. “There’s a time and place for all the ritual…just not here. Sal’s is a sanctuary for everyone. Those deities who choose to visit here are treated like everyone else. Some of us actually enjoy it. Aren’t Sal’s muffins amazing?”

  Cara took a deep breath and nodded, wondering if she could make small talk with a goddess.

  Even though she and Lacey had been brought up far from the Etruscan center here in Reading, their parents had passed on their knowledge and the Etruscan traditions to them.

  They’d told Cara and Lacey about Uni’s Temple, hidden behind Marelli’s Trattoria on South Sixth Street, and about DownBelow, an amphitheater that looked like a miniature Coliseum built under a strip club only blocks away from the temple.

  Much of the Etruscan magical population had settled here in Reading two centuries ago when they’d left Italy, where the oppressive Catholic Church had tried to wipe out their entire civilization. Even though they’d still had to hide their power and their temples, they’d been able to maintain their customs and rituals.

  And custom dictated you didn’t shoot the breeze with a goddess.

  “You have a very precious son,” Hinthial continued. “Very special.”

  There was something in Hinthial’s tone that made Cara lift her gaze to meet the goddess’s.

  “Yes, I believe he is,” Cara said. “But you’re talking about something else, aren’t you?”

  Hinthial nodded, her dark eyes somber. “Yes. I’m sure your parents told you you’d never have children, true?”

  Dread settled like a wet, heavy blanket on Cara’s shoulders. “Yes. But when I got pregnant with Aron, I knew they had to be wrong.”

  Hinthial shrugged. “To my knowledge, there have been exactly four children born to quercioli. Including Aron.”

  Cara let that settle into her brain before she took a sip of her coffee to moisten her dry mouth. “Four children. In the entire history of time.”

  Hinthial nodded.

  Cara shook her head. “What happened to them?”

  Awful, horrible images invaded her thoughts, the kind mothers had nightmares about. Her hands started to shake and she had to set the coffee cup down before she spilled it.

  Hinthial reached over the table to take her hand. “Nothing awful. Truly. Forgive me, I’m not explaining this correctly.” The goddess grimaced. “I’m not used to… Well, that’s doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Aron’s birth is a sign. And because of this, those of us who know about Aron have guarded that knowledge like a precious secret. Most of the gods and goddesses know nothing about his existence and those of us who do would prefer to keep it that way if we can.”

  “But why? What’s going to happen to him?”

  Hinthial smiled. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. What I do know is that he will fulfill his destiny. I just can’t tell you what that is because I don’t know.”

  “So we should go into hiding? Like my parents did with my sister and me?”

  Hinthial shrugged, managing to make the motion look elegant. “That’s one option, though probably not a solution you or he would be happy with.”

  Cara noticed Hinthial had yet to mention Michael in all of her talk about Aron. “Then what do you suggest Michael and I do?”

  Hinthial’s mouth curved again in a knowing smile. “I suggest Michael continue on his quest to rid the world of Franklin Bennett so that your secret might be safe. And…I suggest you go with him because there were some unexpected consequences to Michael’s healing.”

  Fear made Cara’s stomach turn over. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, he’s fine. And he’ll continue to be fine. As long as you remain in close proximity.”

  Cara frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  The goddess sighed, shaking her head. “You and Michael, your energies are linked now. Because of your involvement in his revival, your arus and his have linked in a way that closely resembles being blood bound. Except for the way Michael’s arus appears to weaken the farther apart you are physically.”

  Shock blanked Cara’s mind to everything but two words—blood bound.

  That phrase was the holy grail for Etruscan lovers. They considered the act of mingling blood during sex and tying their souls together for all eternity a sacred gift. Not something forced on a person without their knowledge or consent.

  Blessed Mother Goddess, Michael was going to freak. He’d feel trapped. He’d have to stay with her for all the wrong reasons and he’d—

  “Cara, dear. Breathe.” Hinthial’s sharp tone snapped Cara back to attention. “This isn’t as dire as you might imagine. Yes, it’s going to require some adjustment from both you and Michael, but I don’t think it’s a cause for panic.”

  It was on the tip of Cara’s tongue to blurt out something smart-ass but she bit it back at the last moment. Probably best not to mouth off a goddess.

  Still, Cara’s stomach felt like someone had stomped all over it. “Thank you for your guidance, Lady. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  “But you’re still worried.” Hinthial sighed. “I suppose I can’t blame you. I know you feel that everything is so unsettled right now. And you’ve already had more than your share of trials.”

  Cara lifted her gaze to Hinthial’s. Did the goddess see the bitterness that still thrived in her soul? Had Hinthial heard Cara’s prayers during the long years of her and Lacey’s imprisonment by the Mal? Had the Etruscan deities cared what happened to two young girls?

  Hinthial glanced away then, as if she knew exactly what Cara was thinking and was upset by it. “Despite the wishes of some, we are not all-powerful or all-knowing. There have been many changes over the millennia. The eteri rule the earth now. It’s a world where magic can be explained away as a parlor trick and anyone who claims to be different is labeled crazy and subjected to drug therapy.”

  Hinthial rose from the table, a dark expression on her face. “Maybe we haven’t been as careful of our race as we should have been. There are no answers, not clear-cut ones anyway. Maybe there never were.”

  Then Hinthial patted on her hand and left the room.

  Cara finished her cooling coffee, her mind a riot of thoughts and fears, almost too much for her to bear. She needed a little space, a little quiet to collect her thoughts.

  And there were way too many people in this tiny house.

  The clop, clop of Sal’s hooves signaled his approach and she turned to watch him.

  “Never a dull moment around here, is there?” Her dry tone made Sal’s eyebrows lift as he stopped by the table.

  “Not typically, no.” He tapped his fingers on the table, as if thinking. “Too much for you today?”

  “Just a little.”

  “Wanna go on a field trip, babe?”

  She shrugged. “Where would I go?”

  “How about an all-expenses-paid trip to Uni’s Temple? No ritual today. Should be quiet.”

  “What about Aron?”

  Sal snorted. “Hon, there are two goddesses watching his every move. They’ll have him worn out in no time. And Michael’s here. N
othing will happen to the boy while you’re gone.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. I think I’d like that.”

  * * * * *

  Cara materialized at the back of the temple, not really knowing what to expect.

  She’d never been in Uni’s Temple. The small village where she and Aron had lived for the past year held their weekly rituals to the Great Etruscan Mother Goddess outside in the center of the village. Even in the depths of winter, that area had been a temperate zone that never dropped below sixty-five degrees or went above eighty-five.

  That area was nice. This…this was spectacular.

  She knew she was still in Reading, not even a mile from Sal’s house. Yet she felt like she’d been transported to Tuscany three millennia ago when the Etruscans still ruled their ancestral lands.

  From the street, the building looked like any other three-story brownstone. Marelli’s Trattoria occupied the front half of the building. The restaurant had been a Reading institution for forty-five years. Before that, the building had been apartments. Of course, only Etruscans had lived there, keeping the secret of the temple.

  In the late 1800s and early 1900s, this neighborhood had been populated almost solely by Italian immigrants though that wasn’t the case today. Still, the Etruscans managed to keep the temple safe with the help of the magic inherent in the earth.

  A ley line ran beneath the city, which was what had drawn the Etruscans to settle here when they’d moved from Italy and set about rebuilding their civilization.

  The temple was open to the top of the building with beautiful white marble walls that could only have been imported from Italy. Three columns on each side of a center aisle led to the wooden altar decorated with gold leaf.

  Wooden benches lined the sides of the temple, leaving the floor mosaic bare for everyone to see. The mosaic showed a Tuscan forest populated by the various members of the Fata and Enu.

  A half-hided salbinelli chased after a winged folletta. A mass of tiny human-shaped candelas, glowing like fireflies, danced around a tree stump as a linchetti couple, their pointed ears prominently displayed, lay entwined on a moonlit patch of grass.

  Several lucani versipelli howled at the bright moon, the wolves a sleek gray, while a strega bent over a moon bowl and her male companion held an athame in his hands. The conical hat on his head made her frown and she stepped forward to examine it more closely.

  “The male represents a netsvis, kind of like a priest, though it’s been a long time since one’s been born. At least, that’s what I was told.”

  Cara gasped and spun around to confront whoever had snuck up on her. The voice had been female but Cara knew women could be just as prone to violence as men.

  The beautiful teenager standing behind her had a sunny smile and huge brown eyes and immediately put Cara at ease.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the girl said. “I didn’t think anyone would be here now. I’m Dilby.”

  She stuck out her hand and Cara took it immediately. “Cara. And I don’t want to interrupt you. I can leave—”

  “Oh no, please don’t go. I just stopped for a few minutes, a little quiet time before work.”

  Cara’s brows lifted. The girl didn’t look old enough to vote much less hold down a job. “Where do you work?”

  The words were out before Cara could stop them and she wanted to kick herself. She’d been so careful since she’d escaped not to ask too many questions of others because people invariably wanted to ask you one in return. And Cara had way too many secrets to keep.

  “I sing with the band at DownBelow,” the girl said. “I usually come here for a few minutes before heading over there. You should come.”

  Cara had heard of the famous Etruscan-only night club from Johanna and she smiled, wondering if she’d ever be able to have a night out like a normal person. “I’d love to but I don’t think I’ll be able to tonight.” Or anytime soon, for that matter.

  “Well, we’re there almost every night so hopefully you’ll catch us.” The girl’s dark eyes almost disappeared as she smiled. “I’ve got to get going and I know you want the place to yourself for a while.” Her smile disappeared as fast as it had appeared. “The Lady is a good listener. I like to think she can hear us. Even though…well, you know.”

  Then Dilby headed out the door at the back, waving before closing the door behind her.

  Yes, Cara understood what the girl was saying. The founding gods of the Etruscans, the Involuti, had vanished almost two millennia ago when the Romans had assimilated the Etruscans. They’d been out of contact with their people since then, leaving behind the remaining pantheon.

  Most Etruscans, including Cara’s parents, believed something catastrophic had happened to them. Something that kept them from returning to their people.

  Cara stared at the life-size statue behind the altar. The Great Mother Goddess Uni peered out into the expanse, her gaze taking in everything.

  A few inches taller than Cara, the statue’s features were strong, purely Etruscan, her hair falling in waves to her waist. In her hands, she held a thunderbolt.

  Cara walked up to the statue, now unsure why she’d come.

  What did she honestly hope to learn? Did she expect answers to all her problems to just pop into her head?

  With a sigh, she sank onto a bench along the wall and lifted her gaze to the vaulted ceiling.

  * * * * *

  Michael opened his eyes, reached for the other side of the bed and realized Cara wasn’t beside him.

  In the next second, he realized she wasn’t in the house.

  How the hell he knew that, he couldn’t be sure. It was almost like he’d put a homing beacon on her, one connected to his arus.

  He flew out of bed, grabbed his jeans off the floor and a t-shirt from the chair then ran down the stairs. He heard voices and arrowed straight for them.

  He saw his son first, sitting on the floor of in front of the TV, reciting the alphabet. Aron looked up at him and smiled. “Daddy, come watch with me.”

  So many conflicting emotions hit Michael at that moment that he almost didn’t notice the two women sitting on the couch, watching his son.

  Love for Aron combined with fear for Cara and the fierce need to protect them both made him glare at the women with distrust and put his body between them and his son.

  “Who the hell are you and where’s Cara?”

  The blonde—tiny, curved and beautiful—lifted one eyebrow at him as she set a sheet of newspaper aside. “Ooh, you’re right, Tilly. This one’s cute.”

  The dark-haired, exotic-looking woman sitting next to her wore a hint of a smile on her full lips. “Yes, he is. And look how he’s protecting Aron. I told you there’s something different about this one. Did you sleep well, Michael?”

  Sleep well? What the—

  Oh shit.

  He forced his body into a low bow.

  “Ladies, greetings. And my apologies for my rudeness. I…”

  Well, fuck. What the hell else was he supposed to say? He knew there were other words, better words he should use when talking to goddesses but this was the first time he’d ever met one, much less two.

  Nortia, Goddess of Fate, giggled. “I do so love when they do that, get all flummoxed and tongue-tied. It’s such an ego stroke.”

  “And we all know how you love your ego—as well as other things—stroked,” Hinthial, Goddess of the Spirit, drawled. “Hello, Michael. You look much better. How are you feeling?”

  “Much improved, Lady.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. And please do rise. All the blood will rush to your head and you’ll pass out. Wouldn’t want to scare your son. He’s kept us entertained all morning. He’s delightful.”

  “Yes, Lady,” Michael said as he rose. “He’s…the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He and Cara.”

  Hinthial’s slow smile made the tightness in his chest ease just a little. “I’m very glad to hear you say that.” She tossed Nortia a
smile. “You owe me five.”

  Nortia grinned back. “And I’ll gladly pay up. Cara’s fine, Michael. She asked to go to the temple so Sal sent her. She’ll be safe there.”

  Temple. They must mean Uni’s Temple. He’d never been there. The Mal weren’t welcome there.

  Nortia tsked, breaking through his thoughts. “You know, Michael, we get really sick and tired of the Mal using that old chestnut to excuse their manners.”

  “Oh, cut the boy some slack, Tilly. He doesn’t know any better.”

  If his head hadn’t been swimming already, Michael figured it’d be spinning around like a top now.

  Focus. You’ve got to focus.

  He needed to get to Cara, had to see her to know for himself that she was okay. The need felt almost like a virus in his blood, a compulsion.

  “Daddy.” Aron tugged on his hand and Michael automatically bent to pick him up. “Come watch with me.”

  “I can’t right now, luri. I have to talk to Salvatorus. But when I come back with Mommy, I’ll watch whatever you want, okay?”

  Aron gave a bright smile and smacked a kiss on his mouth. “Okay, Daddy.”

  Michael set Aron back on the floor and turned back to the goddesses, both of whom smiled at him, stunning him into silence.

  He’d been raised in a Mal household. His father had been Mal, his mother’s father had been Mal. He knew no other way of life.

  His parents and grandparents had ingrained in him from childhood that most of the Etruscan deities had forsaken the Mal, that they’d shunned them centuries ago. That action had caused the Mal to put their considerable forces into becoming the powerful entity they were today.

  With the exception of Veive, God of Revenge, the Mal now worshipped money and power above all else.

  Michael had been the same. Until he’d seen Cara.

  And what had started as him coveting a beautiful woman had brought him here. To a woman he loved and a son he adored. To the home of a male who should hate him yet had saved his life. In the presence of two goddesses who should want to zap him into Aitás.

  Who were smiling at him as if he were a decent man.

  But he wasn’t.

  His breath caught in his throat and he bowed then got the hell out of there before the goddesses changed their mind and decided he was a liability they could no longer stand.