Goddess, Awakened

by Cate Masters

  “Wait. Eric.”

  He cringed at the faltering way she said his name. “I have to go.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Good question. If only he knew how to answer. At the moment, he found it difficult enough not looking her in the eye. “Fine. See you.” Goodbye was probably a more accurate word, though he wished it didn’t have to be. He’d rather tell her see you and mean it. Frustration tensed his muscles and he slammed the back of the truck too forcefully.

  She followed him to the driver’s side door as he climbed in. “You don’t seem fine.”

  “I have to go.” Somewhere he didn’t look forward to going. Somewhere unpleasant things waited. He shut the door before he could change his mind.

  The only way to get it over with was to simply do it. He would tell Sheree, face to face. No date tonight. Or ever again.

  Steeling himself, he drove to the diner. It occurred to him it might have been kinder to call instead of confronting her at work. Hell, a few dates didn’t mean they were involved. Only a few people sat at tables, and one man at the counter. Not exactly a crowd.

  Sheree’s head popped up as he entered. Surprise gave way to a wide smile. “Well, hello there. Take a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

  “No, I’m not staying.” He stepped to the side and waved her over.

  Her smile faded. “What is it?”

  He looked away, anywhere except at her. “It’s about what we discussed. About going out. I can’t. Sorry.”

  “No.” Conviction hardened her voice.

  “Pardon?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You and I are dating. I’m making you dinner on Saturday, remember?”

  If she didn’t remind him of a pathological killer, he might laugh. “What?”

  “You promised me. I already bought the food and everything.” She seemed to strain to keep her voice under control, the growl underneath echoed as if from a deep cavern. The centers of her eyes flashed red, like the redeye caused by a camera’s flash.

  Enough was enough. “Sorry. I can’t.” He backed away and practically ran out the door. Roaring rushed up behind him, like water bursting out of a broken dam, like the breath of a giant opening its mouth to swallow him. He whirled to face it. Nothing there. Nothing he could see, anyway. The noise ebbed away into silence and the street returned to normal again.

  “What the hell?” A shiver ran through him. He stood there dumbly, unable to process.

  A man walked by with his German shepherd. “Hey doc. You all right?”

  If one more person asked him that, his skull would crack.

  Now he knew how to answer. “Not really.” Nor did he have a clue how to fix the situation.

  * * * *

  Irritation chafed Joss’s nerves until bedtime when she opened her window wide to let the scent of lavender waft into her room. Lavender, a balm for the senses. Even sweeter and more potent because of the near-invisible beings tending her field. Hopefully, bringing her luck and protection from ill fortune.

  Inhaling its fragrance, she nestled into her pillow. At a hushed sigh outside, she stiffened. Not a human sigh. It emanated from the ground, an echo of a rush of air along an expanse of land.

  Soon after, the front door creaked open and shut. Footsteps through the foyer echoed down the hall.

  She sat up and listened. A customer? At this hour? The hair on the back of her neck prickled. If only Taz were here to protect her. No, if a burglar broke in, she’d want Taz safe.

  Peeking out her door, she waited to catch sight of the late visitor. Soft voices indicated more than one. Female voices.

  Not an intruder then. She might have preferred a burglar.

  Steadying her breath, she carried her cell down the hall. The silhouettes of two figures loomed near the glass of the front doors. The whisperers bickered with a familiarity that eased her nerves. “Aunt Lydia?”

  The two shushed and turned. “Jocelyn,” Gram said.

  Joss switched on the light. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?”

  “I called earlier, dear. Don’t you remember?”

  Right. The warning about Eric. “Not about a midnight visit. Did you find everything we need?”

  “I obtained the last ingredient only hours ago. We are here to help him, if you’re willing to assist.”

  “Of course. Even if it involves dancing naked under the moon or chanting forbidden verses.” Bad joke, but she had no idea what to expect.

  “They’re most certainly not forbidden. Ancient, maybe, but—” Gram shrugged. “Jocelyn, I know John used to object to our family and our ways, and I know you lost your identity because of him. Now is the time for you to become the person you were meant to be.”

  She tried to inject steady force into her words, yet failed. “I’m the same person I’ve always been.” Not true, she knew. The missing elements left a gaping void that cried out to be filled again.

  “No, Jocelyn. When you denied your heritage, you forfeited your true self. Now you must reclaim it, if only to help the one you love.”

  Surprise snapped her straight. “I don’t love him.” Did she?

  Softness filled Gram’s eyes. “I’m not here to quibble.”

  “It’s an emergency, Jocelyn,” Lydia added with soft urgency. “One threatening everyone, including you.”

  “I’ll do whatever I need to do to help him.” The steady gazes of her aunt and grandmother reassured her. In a small voice, she said, “But we can’t help him if he doesn’t ask for it.” If she remembered correctly.

  “Of course, darling, but he’s about to.”

  “How do you know?” After all this time, she should know better than to ask.

  With a smug smile, her grandmother carried her bag to the kitchen. “He’s on his way here now. We have to hurry.”

  Lydia winked and bustled behind Gram.

  Joss had to follow.

  In the kitchen, her grandmother stood at the sink filling the kettle. Turning, she peered out the door. “Oh, how marvelous. They’re very active tonight. Good thing—we’ll need them.”

  Gram moved to the counter, where she’d already laid out several jars.

  Some appeared familiar, others not. “What’s this for?”

  Gram’s eyes sparkled. “Tea. It’s going to be a long night.”

  Of that, Joss had no doubt.

  Bustling between sink and counter, Gram hummed. “Put on some music, would you, dear?” At Joss’s questioning look, her grandmother added, “You know what I like.”

  All too well. Gram liked it cranked to the highest volume. Joss would keep it low tonight. From the CD player sifted the searing slide guitar of Bonnie Raitt, her gritty voice stripping the last remnants of sleep away. The slow beat wound into her bones, swayed her hips and she crooned the chorus: That’s just love sneakin’ up on you.

  An insistent knock stilled her.

  Eric.

  If only he were here because he wanted to be, not because he needed help.

  Either way, she let him in.

  Chapter 13

  The night air misted on Eric’s face, a cold reminder of his desperate plight. He shouldn’t be at Joss’s door, imposing on her of all people. He needed refuge. Sanctuary and sanity. Relief from the burn deep inside. Sheree, or whatever force consumed her, etched an imprint inside him, a searing brand. Something deep in his flesh throbbed with pain, urged him to find Sheree. Be with her again. Become hers in a wild, primal way.

  Earlier tonight the need had grown unbearable. Her acid had spread through his veins, an intoxicating mix of desire and need, his flesh incomplete without pairing with hers. His nerves had stretched taut, veins strained against his skin, threatened to break through unless he went to Sheree. Surrendered to her. Became one with her. Relentlessly, the call had prodded go to her. It crawled beneath every inch of his skin so he couldn’t stay still. Whatever she’d imprinted inside him wanted h
er. Wanted to seduce him into wanting her. Somehow he knew in doing so, he’d step over a boundary, and whatever portal he entered, would slam behind him.

  He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing the hideous twisted features of Sheree, with Kara’s Kafe transformed into a hellhole awaiting his return to swallow him into its cavern of flames. Once inside, he’d never return.

  The axis of his world was tipping on a precarious tilt. He feared the balance might shift at any time and send him toppling over the brink. Of what, he had no clue. Only that it meant the end of everything he knew to be true.

  Tonight it had reached epic proportions. For hours, an internal struggle had raged. It had taken every ounce of his energy to simply stand immobile. Despite his increasing struggle against the terrifying images that haunted him relentlessly, he’d fought the instinct to seek help from Joss. He couldn’t drag her into this madness, or expose her to the lunatic he’d become.

  He’d stood at his bedroom window, concentrating on Lavender Hill Inn, though the flickering over the field burned his eyes. Focusing on the inn had provided him some measure of control. Lights in the house had given him unsteady peace. Even a blink had disrupted it. The intensity of the flickering orbs had caused his eyes to water.

  He’d closed them for one moment and the burning within him had licked his limbs into movement, had whispered to him, “Go. Now.” His nerves had jangled inside his limbs. “Sheree.” He’d reached atop his dresser and grabbed his car keys. Yes, the whisper had said, “Sheree will bring you relief. She’s the only one who can.”

  “Sheree.” Like every night, she had waited for him. She would take away this haunting madness, give him what he needed.

  He’d pounded down the stairs and outside, not bothering to close the door. Fumbling the keys into the ignition, he’d slammed the gas pedal before it was fully in gear, causing the truck to lurch forward with a roar. Pulse at light speed, his sweaty hands had slipped on the steering wheel. A thousand tiny voices had screeched at him in chaotic chorus, “Go, go, go.”

  At the edge of the practice’s parking lot, he’d jammed on the brake. Headlights had dazed him, and the voices had stilled for one second. The approaching vehicle had appeared to float along, leaving a glowing mist in its wake. A beautiful trail of soft flowing light. Quiet. Calm.

  With his last reserve of strength, he’d yanked the steering wheel in the opposite direction to follow the vehicle. The voices had screamed with renewed intensity, ratcheting up the volume. Like angry bees, they’d swarmed his head, buzzes urging him to seek out Sheree.

  “No!” He’d swatted aimlessly, and their attack had increased in number and volume. The truck had fishtailed along the road, and the taillights of the car ahead had drifted around the corner. The lights in the field had grown larger, blinding him, his retinas ready to spontaneously combust.

  His front tire had caught a rut, sending the truck up the hill toward the inn. His vision blurry, he’d known enough to brake. The SUV had lurched over the mound, airborne, like a wild mustang desperate to throw off its rider, then had slammed to the ground and halted.

  Shielding his head with his forearms, he’d waited, chest heaving. When his breathing quieted, he peered around him. It had seemed quiet enough. No screeching, no insane nagging voices. The soft lights bobbing around the truck still hurt his eyes, if less than before.

  Stumbling out of the truck, he hadn’t flinched when the lights had glimmered around him. By their glow, he’d dragged himself to the inn’s porch, his spirit yearning for relief. Still, he’d hesitated before knocking. How to explain it? She’d think he went crazy. He’d begun to wonder himself.

  Now, the door to the inn opened wide, and Joss stood there. Light framed her outline and glinted off the golden strands of hair so she appeared to glow. Her face held no hint of surprise.

  “Eric. Come in.” She lightly grasped his arm and drew him inside.

  He put up no resistance. What a complete idiot he was. “I’m sorry to bother you so late.”

  “It’s fine.” Barefoot, she stood gazing up at him, shapely legs bare to her thighs. Her faded T-shirt revealed soft mounds punctuated by protruding centers.

  His mind blanked, relieved of everything except the beautiful vision of her. “Joss.”

  A clank in the kitchen told him they weren’t alone.

  “Gram and Lydia.” She sounded none too happy about it.

  “A late night reunion?” Damn, was he intruding on some family emergency? Why else would they be here at this hour?

  Her steady gaze unnerved him.

  As if steeling herself, she inhaled audibly. “You’d better come with me.”

  “Do you need help with something?”

  She halted and turned. “No. Just the opposite.” For a long beat, she met his gaze hard, then led him on.

  “What?” Mired in confusion, he stood there until she swung open the kitchen door and waited.

  Beyond, her grandmother and aunt bent over the island, intent on their work. Seeing him, they straightened with solemn expressions. The three women emanated an air of expectancy and reserved determination.

  His spine iced. They’d known he was coming. How? More importantly, why?

  Had Joss not anchored his spirit here, he might have turned and fled.

  A breath escaped, part laugh. Fled to where? He had nowhere else to go. Except to her.

  The elder woman extended her arm. “Come.”

  The command propelled him forward. Whatever awaited, he would endure it.

  Beneath the grandmother’s smile lurked something distasteful, revealed by the stiff curve of her lips. “Please sit.”

  Doing so indicated his acceptance of more than the invitation, and she seemed to relax.

  In a softer tone, she asked, “Would you like some tea?”

  Uncertain, he glanced at Joss, who nodded encouragement.

  The bluesy music unwound his nerves somewhat. Tea couldn’t hurt. “Sure.”

  Set in motion, the three ignored him, huddling and speaking in low tones. When they turned in unison toward him, the motion seemed choreographed. They surrounded him, Joss and Lydia on either side.

  Standing opposite, the grandmother set a mug in front of him.

  He wrapped his fingers around the cup, but its warmth didn’t penetrate deeper than his outer skin. As if his life force was already fading. He feared he was soon to follow.

  He ventured, “None of you seem surprised to see me.”

  The elder woman said sympathetically, “You’ve suffered through a difficult time. We understand.”

  Meeting each of their gazes in turn, he held Joss’s the longest. “What is going on?”

  She searched his eyes. “It’s my fault.”

  “Nonsense,” the grandmother said. “They were here long before.”

  Sorrow filled Joss’s face. “No one came to harm because of them.”

  “I beg to differ.” Lydia leaned closer. “Two years ago, a teenager hung himself. Nothing to do with you, and everything to do with them.”

  “Ronnie Landon?” How did they know about him? The kid fell in with a bad crowd, got involved with drugs.

  The grandmother nodded. “And last year, the farmer’s wife who was found in the field…”

  “Carrie Enders?” Gossip around the office said she’d fallen in love with a trucker who let her into his cab on layovers. He’d refused to take her away, and Carrie went on a bender with a few strange guys. One of the farm hands found her dead in the cornfield. Ed Enders sold the farm, unwilling to plough the land.

  Lydia lifted her cup. “They were becoming more active. It was only a matter of time.”

  Eric’s eyes burned. “I’m not following any of this.” Had the world gone mad? Or had they concocted this as some elaborate put-on?

  “Of course you are,” the grandmother said. “You’re not allowing yourself to believe the truth.”

  “You must. You�
�re in grave danger.” Lydia touched his arm, tensed and eased away. “Their mark is upon you.”

  The brand Sheree left inside him. How did she know? “Can you erase it? It’s driving me crazy.”

  “We’ll certainly try, dear,” said the grandmother.

  Lydia added, “It’s why we’re here.”

  The knot of tension in his stomach unfurled. They’d help him.

  A glance at Joss edged his relief with embarrassment. He’d never exposed himself as a bigger fool to anyone, or made himself so vulnerable. Yet she gazed at him with acceptance.

  “Drink,” she said, glancing pointedly at his tea.

  He lifted the mug to his lips. The hot liquid flowed over his tongue and down his throat with tingling effervescence. Whatever Sheree introduced to his system didn’t like it, and the sting shot through him, fighting against the drink. When it reached his stomach, the sensation expanded, flooding him with warring elements. Burn and cool pricked through his veins like needles, sending him to his feet.

  Joss grasped his arm, and laid a hand on his stomach. “I have you.”

  Despite the pain, he exhaled in relief. Never had three words meant more.

  * * * *

  Joss held tight even though the disruption within him transferred to her. Beneath her hand pricked tiny zings, turbo-charged ants skittering helter-skelter, assaulting her consciousness. A hundred times worse than before. How he’d managed to deflect them, she couldn’t guess. Not many people showed such fortitude.

  When the disturbance quieted, she glanced at Lydia, who nodded.

  “Please, sit,” Joss tugged him down.

  Lydia pulled on his other side. “You’ll need your strength.”

  “What is happening to me?” He spoke with the weariness of an elderly man, yet his gaze pierced hers with vigor.

  Deferring to Gram, Joss drew back. She didn’t want to be the one to explain. He’d hold it against her.

  Gram refilled his mug. “Drink up.”

  Through his weariness, his determination blazed. “First tell me what’s going on.”

  Demurely, her grandmother smiled. “You may find it more difficult to swallow than the tea.”