Goddess, Awakened

by Cate Masters

  “Morning. How’s Taz?” She smiled at Terry, who passed by.

  The assistant walked backward to say, “Doc Hendricks, Mrs. Albright’s in three.”

  Damn. If he kept the woman waiting, he’d never hear the end of it. “Be right there.” To Joss, he responded, “Taz is better.”

  Stepping closer, she asked anxiously, “Can I bring him home then?”

  The scent of lavender and vanilla piqued his consciousness. Clutching the file, he fought to maintain a professional façade. “I was about to call you to give you the good news. Taz is ready for release. We’ll have to go over a few guidelines first.”

  Her eyes widened. “Today?”

  “Yes.” He touched the small of her back and guided her to the kennels.

  Laughing, tears sprang to her eyes as the dog lifted his head to sit up. “Hello baby. He does look better.”

  “You’ll need to restrict his movements for a week or two. No running, of course. Take him outside on a leash. He’s been up a few times. He’s pretty shaky. It will take him awhile to use only three legs. His balance will be off.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  He instructed her on continued care of the amputated limb. “Do you have a blanket in your car?” Before she could answer, he blurted, “He’s too heavy for you to lift. I’ll drive him over.”

  “No, you have patients.”

  Unfortunately. “I’ll bring him at lunchtime, then.”

  “Great.”

  “I better not keep you any longer from seeing Mrs. Albright. I’ll go home and get everything ready. Thank you.”

  After flashing a nervous smile, she went outside. The hallway seemed to dim, her warmth gone. Out of his reach again.

  “Doc? Anything wrong?” Terry asked.

  “No.” Not for much longer, he hoped.

  He tried to rush through the visit with Mrs. Albright and her dog Mr. Tibbles. As usual, the woman’s complaints went on and on, taking more than the allotted time for her visit. He’d never been so eager for a lunch break.

  Only a few animals occupied the kennel. A tomcat with a ripped ear, a trophy of its last fight. Another cat whose lungs he’d drained of fluid to accommodate the weeping owner, though he’d warned the woman the cat would die of heart failure soon, and urged her to put it down. Against all odds, she’d held out, hoping for a miracle.

  In his fifteen years of practice, he’d never experienced a true miracle. Not his decision, though. He did as the owner asked.

  And Taz had been a trouper, enduring exams and probes with no whimper of complaint, no growl of warning. He rose and went to the back. Taz thumped his tail in greeting. He unlatched the door and bent to examine the dog’s amputation site. Clean pink flesh. Taz had progressed wonderfully. His heart lightened, and he ran his fingers through Taz’s fur. “Want to go home? I’ll do my best to see you often.”

  The dog’s tongue lapped at his hand, so Eric scratched behind his ear. “Yeah, I know.” An irresistible force drew him to Joss, and he had to explore wherever it led.

  * * * *

  Tiny rumbles shook the floorboards. Joss tried to quell her nervousness, but with Taz coming home and Eric delivering the dog, the two simultaneous events were too much.

  True to his word, Eric drove Taz home at quarter to one. Joss took deep breaths before opening the door as he carried the dog inside.

  “Oh, wait.” She retrieved the dog’s bed from her room. He never used it there anyway, so she set it in the alcove next to the reception desk. “I can keep an eye on him out here.”

  Lowering to the floor, Eric gently set the dog down. When he stood, he eased closer to Joss. “I wanted to ask—”

  A high-pitched squeal sounded inside the dining room. Annie rushed in and hugged Joss. “Finally.” Bending to the dog, she gently hugged him too. “We missed you so much.”

  When Taz looked up at her with soulful gaze, Joss tried not to cry. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  Annie turned to him. “It was so nice of you to take time away from your practice.”

  Joss couldn’t express her gratitude enough. “Yes, thank you.”

  The grandfather clock sounded, and Eric frowned. “One already. I have to go. Patient waiting.”

  So soon? Joss sent a hard glance at the clock. “Oh.”

  “Call me,” he said. “For anything.”

  “I will.” She walked him to the door, wanting to say more, but Annie hovered near the dog. “Thanks again.”

  A nod, and he trudged to his truck and got in.

  Gripping the door jamb, Joss willed herself to not call out.

  From the doggie bed, Taz whimpered.

  “Do you need to go out, baby?” Stop focusing on yourself. Taz needed her.

  She slipped the harness under him and fastened it. “Let’s see if you need a walk.”

  On his first attempt, his rear slumped down again.

  Joss’s heartstrings tugged. “Oh!”

  Annie appeared at her side. “He’ll be fine. Eventually he’ll learn to do these things on his own.”

  Doubt coursed through her. “I did the right thing, didn’t I?”

  “Of course. You won’t do him any favors by doing everything for him, hon.”

  “You’re right.” She lead him slowly out, grateful for Annie’s loyal friendship and tough love. Hard to hear, but necessary. She’d stay strong for Taz and help him through.

  After limping a few steps, the dog halted and looked up at her. He shivered despite the warm night air.

  “Sweetie.” Wracked with guilt, she bent, wishing she could help somehow. An image glimmered in her mind. She could, just this once.

  She waited until the afternoon had passed and Annie had gone home for the evening, then returned to Taz, sleeping by the desk. Holding her hand just above him, she pictured his wound healed, his energy restored. In her head, the dog ran on three legs as fast as he used to on four.

  From her palm, a glow steadily increased until light surrounded Taz. The vibrations passed through Joss, stronger and stronger. The dog closed his eyes and shuddered. After a few moments, Taz opened his eyes and stood taller.

  Joss withdrew her hand. She wasn’t supposed to call on the power, especially not for her personal use, but who could fault her for helping Taz?

  Of course, those in The Underworld would. If what Gram said was true, they’d use any excuse to start trouble for Joss’s family. “I won’t do it anymore,” she vowed. Taz licked her hand. “You’re welcome, sweetie.” She kissed his head and rose. Hugging herself, she headed to the kitchen to make tea.

  A few minutes later, the back door opened, and Gram entered on silent footsteps despite her black boots. She wore black pantaloons fastened with a leather belt, and a midnight blue blouse that matched a short cape. On either side of the belt, silver hilts shone.

  Swords? Joss’s first reaction, besides being grateful Annie had gone home an hour earlier, was to ask whether Gram had auditioned for a local production of Lord of The Rings. The notion vanished when Gram faced her in grave seriousness.

  “I sense terrible danger.”

  * * * *

  Eric’s muscles stressed after repeated push-ups, the veins of his arms bulging from the strain. He lowered to the floor and rolled onto his back to catch his breath. Lying back, he stared at the ceiling. He wanted to go to Joss.

  Sleep would elude him tonight. He should have returned to the inn after work to check on Taz. Being near Joss always calmed him, buoyed his spirits. Already, it seemed longer than a day since he’d seen her at the Fourth of July picnic.

  He inhaled deeply. The lavender eased his nerves too. Of course, lavender’s medicinal properties were well documented. If one could believe herbs actually contained healing properties. He’d scoffed at the Google results: a balm for lovesick hearts, a mood booster, a sleep enhancer, an antiseptic and anti-inflammatory agent. It had intrigued him to learn hospitals used lavender du
ring World War II to disinfect rooms.

  But the faerie lore…he had to laugh. Lavender repelled other insects except the fireflies, always hovering near it. More than he’d ever seen in this area before Joss planted the field of lavender.

  Tomorrow, he’d go check on Taz and see Joss. Right now, he needed a shower. Peeling away his sweaty T-shirt, he stepped inside the bathroom and twisted the faucet knob. Dropping his shorts, he stood under the shower and let the warmth ease his muscles. Lifting his face into the spray, he turned his head. Water ran in rivulets down the opaque glass shower door. He tensed at seeing the outline of a small hand, smaller than a child’s. It faded slowly.

  He released a sharp breath. “I’m imagining things.”

  Like images on photographic paper, small hands appeared randomly, one by one, disappearing as quickly as they came.

  “Who’s there?” His attempt to sound stern came out in a cracked voice.

  A hollow whisper echoed. He couldn’t make out the words.

  “Get out. Or Jocelyn will make you leave.” Why the hell had he said that?

  The glass cleared, and a hiss sounded through the steam. Hastily he turned off the water, hesitating before pushing open the door to grab the towel. In the harsh glare of the overhead light, everything appeared to be in place.

  He rubbed the steam off the mirror, relieved to see only himself reflected. It had worked. They were gone.

  After toweling off, he stood in the doorway to his room and listened. All quiet.

  Crossing the floor, he fell atop his bed. Resting his forearm over his eyes, he let his muscles go slack. With a sudden wind that rattled the window pane, an odd sensation prickled the hair on his neck. Another breeze wisped through the room, almost tangible in form. He stilled, listening to the increasing whine. He could barely make it out—Eric.

  Alarmed, he peered over his arm. The whisper came again, more audible. “Eric.”

  “Who’s there?” Scrambling to his feet, he scanned the room. No one. At least, no one he could see.

  In the corner of the room, a shadow shifted. A hand, gray like mist, reached out. “I miss you. I thought you loved me.” The faint outline of a familiar face emerged from the darkness. Below it, a body took shape, a body he knew every inch of after years of holding it close.

  “Karen?” It couldn’t be.

  “Don’t you love me?” Her features grew more distinct with sadness.

  “You know I do.” He’d always been faithful during their marriage.

  “I need you.” She extended her arms toward him, beckoning. Her left hand bore no ring.

  Despite the strong tug to follow, he held back. “Karen, I need to know if it’s the real you.”

  Softly whimpering, her arms withdrew into the shadows. “I knew it. You don’t love me anymore.”

  “Of course I do.” Then why was it so difficult to say it now? After all those nights he’d laid in bed, wishing for her to return? Wishing he could have such a moment as this? The years seemed an eternity.

  “Then come to me.” Her hushed voice echoed through his head.

  When the hands reached out to him again, he went to her. Taking her cold hands in his, he stepped into the darkness and, like a revolving door closing around him, it enveloped him.

  His whisper evaporated in the night. “I thought I’d never see you again.” He touched a hand to her chin and tilted up her head. Horror gripped him.

  A crooked smile tainted Sheree’s lips. “I’ll bet.” Her cackling laugh thundered in his ears.

  “No.” Beneath his skin, his blood burned as if filled with acid, leaching from the spot within his chest. Jerking away, he turned to run back, but found only emptiness. And nothing beneath his feet. He tumbled through black space, his screams echoing.

  * * * *

  A knock at the front door unnerved Joss. “I’m not expecting any late guests.” The clock had just chimed nine.

  She grew more anxious at Gram’s knowing look and hurried through the foyer.

  Standing on the threshold stood her mother. But not the mom who used to putter around the kitchen or drive Joss to the library. An impossibly youthful version. Her blond hair hung in waves to her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling and clear. The silver hooded cloak was of the thinnest fabric, shimmering as if woven of starlight. The matching gown clung to her thin frame, the picture of elegance. Or fae royalty. Like Gram, her mother wore swords in her belt, sheathed in leather like two smaller knives.

  Outside, Lydia, also donned in some crazy medieval-looking garb, bent over the car trunk and drew out weapons. Hopefully, none of them would have to use any.

  Speechless, Joss struggled with surprise, happiness, and anger. Why had Mom stayed away so long? Where was she when Joss had needed her most? The more upset she grew, the more the walls shook. Joss gripped the door tighter.

  Her mother smiled. “Hello, sweetheart.”

  Immediately, the quaking settled. Joss was more centered, though no less surprised. “Mom. I can’t believe you’re here. Come in.” Before a spy caught sight of her. Surely her visit heralded something important.

  Gliding inside, her mother paused to briefly gather her in her arms, press her lips to Joss’s cheek. “It’s so good to see you, baby.” The light scent of woodland flowers filled the room.

  “You, too.” It would have been better to have known where she’d hidden all those years. Joss held her tongue.

  Overnight bag in hand, Lydia climbed the steps, robes flowing.

  Joss waited until her aunt had entered. “Gram’s in the kitchen.” But they probably already knew she was here.

  Lydia set the suitcase on the floor. “We brought you something suitable to wear tonight.”

  Something told Joss the outfit would be better for Halloween, but she kept the thought to herself.

  With a regal nod, her mother took Joss’s hand and led her through the dining room, robes flowing in a delicate, diaphanous wave. She released her and pushed open the kitchen door.

  Rushing to her, Gram enveloped her in a hug. Lydia stood close, waiting.

  The door swung closed, and Joss held back. She couldn’t pretend to be entirely happy. She still harbored too many unanswered questions.

  When Lydia opened the door again, she waved Joss on. “Get in here. We have a lot to discuss.”

  “Yes, we do.” Tonight, no question would go unanswered.

  Returning to Joss’s side, her mother linked arms and tugged her inside. “It’s been difficult to stay away.”

  “Then why did you?” Joss couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice.

  Her mother laid a palm against her cheek. “To keep your true identity secure. It was the only way to keep you safe.”

  “Because we’re related to a goddess?” Why would Joss need protection?

  Gram went to the blender. “We need margaritas.”

  Joss sat on a bar stool and propped her head in her hands. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  Sitting beside Joss, her mother took her hand. “We’re not a typical family.”

  “Right. We put the fun in dysfunctional.” She sighed. “Or we’re more seriously disturbed than most others.”

  Her mom smiled. “If having powers makes us dysfunctional, yes.” Turning serious, she added, “You, Jocelyn, are the most important.”

  “So not true.” Compared to her relatives, Joss ranked least important.

  “Yes,” her mother insisted. “You have proven yourself to be the one who holds the greatest power. The one foretold for centuries. You control the power below.”

  “No, I don’t.” The reverse was true. The ley line used Joss as a release. No sooner did its energy come to mind, than it zapped wherever it wanted.

  “You haven’t yet mastered your skill,” her mother said. “The reason I’m here.”

  “You can teach me? What if something goes wrong?” Then she’d anger those in The Underworld again, and put Eric
in danger.

  Her mother nodded. “A wise answer. I was sent to warn you against using the power.”

  “I haven’t meant to.” Joss wouldn’t mention the one instance with Taz. “It just happens.” If only she could stop it.

  Smoothing back Joss’s hair, her mother smiled. “It responds to your will. Your mind and emotions.”

  Joss huffed. “Great. So I only have to stop thinking and feeling.”

  Pouring the margaritas from the blender into the salt-rimmed glasses, Gram said, “Not stop, dear. Learn to direct them to the proper place.”

  “Easier said than done.” Joss sighed.

  “Try now.” Mom crossed her arms and waited.

  “How?”

  “The ley line reacts to you. If you’re upset, energies surge forth. Focus on containing them below.”

  She blew out a breath. “Okay. I’ll think of something that causes a strong reaction in me.” Eric.

  Energies rumbled the floor, shook the appliances. Oops, shouldn’t have thought of him. An image popped into her head, nuzzling into him in her bed, the bliss of sleeping in his arms. Electricity shot to her core. Oh no.

  The vibrations rattled the cabinets.

  Joss gripped the counter. “Stop.”

  Slowly, the ley line quieted.

  She winced. “Sorry.”

  “You’ll master it soon. You must,” her mother said. “Lord Plouton will claim abuse of the treaty otherwise.”

  “Even if it’s a lie?”

  Lydia shrugged. “It’s his way. He’s always twisted the truth to his advantage.”

  Joss would have to learn, and quick. “I still can’t believe we’re related to a goddess.”

  Gram raised her glass. “Here’s to Iris, the messenger goddess, connecting humans to the gods.”

  “Earth to sky,” Lydia added. “One reason she’s called the Goddess of the Rainbow.”

  “Or Daughter of Thaumas,” her mother said. “The Wondrous One.”

  “And the West Wind is her boyfriend.” To Joss, it still seemed an unlikely fairy tale. “It makes no sense I’m related to someone like her.”

  Her mother straightened. “It makes perfect sense. Iris also represents new endeavors, and you’ve proven great skill in that area.”