Caged Lightning

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Caged Lightning Page 3

by Marina Finlayson


  “Why? Is there something wrong with my clothes?” I asked, preparing to take offence. No one whose wardrobe consisted of black, black, and more black was going to get away with criticising my fashion choices.

  “Your clothes are fine.” He ran a dismissive eye over my current outfit of jeans and a sky-blue T-shirt. My wardrobe didn’t vary much from that: jeans and T-shirt, jeans and singlet top—these were my regular uniform. “But I doubt you have anything suited to such a formal occasion. We need to make a statement.” He put one arm around my shoulder and flung the other out in an expansive gesture. “Sun and Moon are together again. We will send a warning to these shadow shapers that we are not to be trifled with.”

  He seemed a lot braver now that he had his sister back.

  “Yay, us,” I said drily. What exactly did he mean by “formal occasion”? I didn’t like getting dressed up, and I hated having a whole bunch of strangers staring at me. If it wasn’t for the lure of seeing Jake, I’d be running the other way as fast as possible instead of attending this ceremony.

  “You’ll need to look the part,” he said. “At the moment, you don’t even look like a huntress, much less the moon goddess.” Then he frowned and looked around the small room. “Where is your bow?”

  “In my bedroom.”

  He drew in a sharp breath. “You didn’t have it with you in the pub—did you leave it here on its own?” He marched into the bedroom, returning with my bow and quiver, a scowl as black as the pits of Tartarus on his face. “Do you want to end up dead? You can’t just leave your avatar lying around like a discarded T-shirt. Have you forgotten what the shadow shapers can do with a god’s avatar? You keep it somewhere secure, or you carry it with you. Always.”

  “Okay, okay, keep your shirt on. Syl and Lucas were here, anyway.”

  His expression clearly indicated that he didn’t find a cat shifter and a werewolf sufficient security for my new fashion accessory.

  I took them from him with a sigh and his face softened.

  “I don’t want to lose you again, Arti.”

  My irritation vanished at the concern in his eyes. I had a brother, and he loved me. That made up for a lot.

  3

  I cradled the hot mug in my hands, inhaling the delicious aroma of coffee as I gazed out at the blue waters beyond our little town. The sparkling sea stretched all the way to the horizon. Somewhere out there was Poseidon—all we had to do was find him. No pressure.

  Still, that was a problem for another day. Today was Jake’s investiture as Ruby Adept, and that was a big enough deal for one day. I closed my eyes and took another sip of coffee, digging my bare toes underneath the couch cushions to keep them warm. The apartment was unusually quiet, since Syl and Lucas had spent the night at his parents’ place after some big werewolf thing, and I was enjoying the early morning peace. Later, my day would be full of pomp and ceremony, new people and the strain—or was that the thrill?—of seeing Jake again. For now, I was content to stretch out on the couch, admire the view of the ocean, and do my best to think of nothing at all.

  Not that I’d ever been much good at that. If I had a book to read, I could sit still, but apart from that, I preferred to be up and doing. Maybe I should go for a long walk on the beach instead.

  But then I’d have to take my bow and quiver. Apollo had been so ticked at me leaving them behind last time, and Syl and Lucas had been there then. He’d go apeshit if I left them now. Not that I blamed him. I had no desire to become a victim of the shadow shapers. I just wished my avatar wasn’t quite so cumbersome. Apollo had the right idea with his small, go-anywhere ring. What had Artemis been thinking when she chose a bow and arrow for an avatar?

  My gaze fell on the shimmering silver dress Winston had delivered a short time ago, draped over the back of one of the armchairs in a waterfall of shining fabric. It was long, with a figure-hugging bodice that plunged low at the neckline, and a flowing skirt. It looked like something an actress would wear to a movie premiere, something hideously expensive and exclusive. Something that really didn’t belong in the wardrobe of Lexi Jardine.

  Was this the kind of dress Artemis was used to? She must be a very different person to me if this was a normal part of her wardrobe. On the bright side, it would look good on me, and the idea of Jake, who was used to seeing me covered in dirt and sweat, seeing me in something like this instead was pretty enticing. His eyes would light with that hungry look I loved, as if he couldn’t wait to peel me out of it.

  At least, they would have, once. Maybe now he’d only feel a hint of regret. Or, worse, seeing me in such a dress would confirm his belief that I was too far above him, that we could never be together.

  I set my empty coffee mug down with a sigh. Regardless of what I wore, I was still the same person. A silver gown didn’t make me a goddess.

  A gentle knock sounded at the door, but it opened before I could get up, and Holly peeped around it.

  “I thought I heard you earlier,” she said, coming in. For once, she didn’t have Mireille with her. “You’re up early today.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. It’s Jake’s investiture today.”

  Holly knew how those sentences were connected. She’d been there when Jake had walked away from me, despite my pleas that she had politely pretended not to hear. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m not sure. Part of me is excited to see him again. The other part is dreading it.”

  “That’s understandable,” she said. “Maybe he’ll have changed his mind, now he’s going to be the Ruby Adept.”

  “Maybe.” But I didn’t think so. The Ruby Adept might be the head of the fireshapers, but that was a long way short of godhood. And Jake was stubborn. It was going to take more than a promotion to change his mind. “Let’s not talk about it or I’m going to chicken out of going. How was your pack thing last night?”

  She sat on the arm of the armchair across from me, looking unusually awkward. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Oh?” I didn’t like the way she said that, not meeting my eyes. What did pack business have to do with me? Was I going to need another cup of coffee for this conversation?

  She wiped her hands along her jeans, as if her palms were sweating, though it wasn’t particularly hot in here. In fact, my bare feet were still cold. I tucked them closer against my body. “Lucas told the pack last night about you. About who you really are.”

  “Oh?” I said again, mentally cursing Lucas. He hadn’t even told Syl, and now he’d gone and told the whole pack? What was with that? He’d been acting strange since we got back.

  “The alphas sent me as their representative, since I have the closest relationship with you of all the wolves.”

  Well, that was weird. Since when did Norma and Ray need a representative to talk to me? I sat up a little straighter, watching Holly’s bowed head cautiously. “Is there a problem?”

  She looked up at that. “No, not at all.” Then she slipped from the armchair to kneel on the floor. “They wanted me to offer you our fealty.”

  “Get up,” I said sharply, revolted by the sight of my friend on her knees. I sprang up myself, scattering couch cushions, ready to pull her to her feet if necessary. “What is this, the Middle Ages? Nobody pledges their fealty to anyone anymore.”

  She stood up, a look of distress on her face. “I told Norma I was the wrong person to do this. I knew I’d muck it up.”

  I took her hands and spoke in a gentler tone. “You haven’t mucked anything up. I just don’t understand. I didn’t think you werewolves followed the shaper gods.”

  She stared at me in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. We don’t give a shit about the other gods—but you! You are the goddess of the moon, and we are its creatures. Your creatures. Who the hell else would werewolves worship?”

  “But, I—” I stopped, at a loss for words. She’d caught me completely by surprise.

  She stared down at our joined hands. “This is blowing my
mind. I can’t believe I’m here with you. Who ever expects to meet their goddess in person?”

  Who, indeed? We’d just gone from weird to outright freaky on the crazy-o-meter. Werewolves worshipped Artemis? It made sense, in a way. No wonder Lucas had been acting so oddly.

  My mind replayed one of my earliest conversations with Lucas. What would you say if I told you the gods were real? I’d asked, and he’d replied: I’d probably wonder what you were trying to sell me. He’d never struck me as particularly religious. How the hell were Holly and I having this conversation now?

  “Lucas told me once that he only visited the shrine on feast days,” I objected. “I got the distinct impression that he was only going through the motions and didn’t actually believe in the gods. None of you have ever mentioned religion before.” A slightly accusing tone had crept into my voice. This was just getting too ridiculous. What next? Statues of me in the town square? People feeding me grapes and carrying me around lest my delicate feet get dirtied?

  Holly shrugged, still clinging determinedly to my hands. “We don’t talk about it outside the pack. It’s no one’s business but ours.” And now mine, apparently. “Our legends say you created our kind, in the quest for a perfect hunting companion—merging the loyalty and ferocity of your hunting hounds with the intelligence of a human.”

  “Really?” I said faintly. I was not going to ask exactly how I had combined humans with hounds. Some things were better kept as legends. I dragged my mind from the horrendous images it was contemplating and said, in a firmer voice: “Okay, but that’s legends. This is the twenty-first century. There’s not even a temple here. Surely you can’t still …” I trailed off, unwilling to say “worship me”. It was too weird.

  Holly grinned at me, as if this was all so amazing, but I was not finding the same delight in the situation. “We have our own shrine, out in the bush where no one runs but the wolves. We visit it on full moons, and sometimes other times, too. I prayed there for a baby.”

  And I had delivered—literally. I’d delivered Holly and Joe’s baby in the back of a stolen car as we careered down the freeway. The absurdity of it took my breath away.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said sternly. Her eyes were shining. “You and Joe did all the baby-making on your own. It was nothing to do with me.”

  “You saved her,” she said, with absolute certainty. “She wouldn’t be here except for you. Neither would I.”

  “Of course I did!” Exasperated, I dropped her hands and stalked to the window. Outside, blue sky smiled down on blue sea. Two people were walking their dog on the beach, and out beyond the point, the dark shapes of surfers bobbed on the water, waiting for the perfect wave. “Because you were my friend, not because you prayed to someone.” Please don’t make this any weirder than it already is. “Seriously, Holly, that’s all I want. Just friends. Not worshippers. I need friends.”

  Syl would be thrilled, and say she’d told me so, but after the events of the last couple of days, I was more than ready to admit it. Hell, I was happy to shout it from the rooftops: I was not an island. I needed my friends. Becoming some remote figure in a silver gown, an icon to be worshipped, was no part of my agenda.

  She moved to my side and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You know I’m your friend. It might just take me a little while to get used to this news.”

  “You and me both.” We shared a smile and a knot of tension in my gut unwound.

  “I just want you to know that the pack will be there for you if you need us,” she added.

  I sighed and turned my back on the view. Despite my churning feelings, I had to try to be gracious. The support of the pack was no small thing. “Thank you. That’s good to know.” And it was, even though I had no intention of endangering them by dragging them into this. “Actually,” I added, as my gaze fell on the sparkle of silver draped over the back of the armchair, “there is something you could help me with. Just you, I mean, not the whole pack.”

  “What?”

  “This dress. Apollo sent it for me to wear to the investiture today. And now that I see it, I realise I don’t have any shoes to go with it.” I had sneakers, combat-style boots, and a single pair of brown sandals. “And I don’t know what to do with my hair. This is kind of a big deal, according to Apollo. I’m not sure I can pull it off.”

  “Is it safe for you to be out in public? If you’re a goddess, you’re in danger from the shadow shapers, too. Should you really be making public appearances?”

  I’d asked Hades the same thing, forgetting it applied to me, too, now. He was planning on disappearing to the underworld; soon, I would be leaving, too.

  I shrugged. “Apollo says we need to make a statement. I think he feels the need to stamp his authority on the remaining fireshapers in Crosston. Show that the new Ruby Adept has his full support.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not going to make a habit of it,” she said, frowning.

  “I’m not sure that anywhere is truly safe anymore,” I said. “At least not until we find out who is behind the shadow shapers and how they manage their attacks.” As soon as we located Poseidon, I would be leaving Berkley’s Bay, doing what I did best: hunting. Then we would see who was the better hunter: the shadow shapers or the goddess of the hunt.

  She nodded, still frowning, and held the dress up against me. The slinky silver fabric caught the light from the window and threw sparkles all over the walls.

  “I think strappy silver sandals,” she said. “Norma has a pair that would fit you. I’ll text her and get her to drop them over. And maybe a nice upswept style for your hair? Ask Tegan. She’d be more than happy to help. What? What’s wrong?”

  I grimaced. “I don’t have time to stuff around in Tegan’s salon.” What I really meant was that I didn’t want half the world staring at me while Tegan interrogated me on everything that had happened. My feelings were still too raw.

  Holly nodded sagely. “Wait here.”

  She slipped out, but didn’t leave me waiting long. A few moments later, she was back, with Tegan at her heels. Tegan was big and bold, an unstoppable force of nature. Today, she wore a leopard skin print skirt that on anyone else would have been scandalously short, but on Tegan just looked right. She had a thing about leopard print—said it satisfied the inner tiger to wear the skins of her rivals. Even though her rivals’ skins were probably not made of stretchy synthetic. It was the thought that counted.

  “I hear someone needs a formal do,” she said, dumping a bag full of hairdressing tools on the dining table. “Come pull up a pew and let’s see what we can do.”

  I sat obediently in the dining chair she indicated, mentally steeling myself for the flow of questions to begin. But they never came. She kept up a steady stream of harmless gossip about the doings of the town, but never asked a thing about what I’d been up to. I’d have to find out what Holly had said to her; I was in awe.

  Gradually, I relaxed as I sat there, being beautified by the expert as Holly smiled encouragement. She was finished in remarkably quick time, and stood back, comb in hand, and surveyed her work with pride. “That should do it,” she said to Holly, “though you’ll need to do something about her face.”

  “What’s wrong with my face?” I asked, indignant.

  “You look like you haven’t slept in a week,” Tegan said, brutally frank as ever. “People will be wondering who this hag is with the beautiful hair.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” She swept her tools into her bag and gave me a wink. “Knock ’em dead, sunshine.”

  She left, and Holly glanced at her watch. “What time did you say this thing started?”

  “Winston said he’d be back for me around mid-morning. The new Ruby Adept has to take office at midday, when the sun is at its height. That’s why the ceremony always takes place on a Sunday, too—it’s a sun god thing.”

  “You’d better get into that dress, then. Tegan took longer than I thought she would. Have you got any mak
eup?”

  I hesitated. Makeup hadn’t really been a priority for a while.

  “At least some concealer?”

  I shook my head.

  “Fine. You get changed. I’ll see what I’ve got that will work with your colouring—your skin is darker than mine.” She headed for the door.

  I took the dress into my bedroom and shimmied into it. The silver fabric clung to my body like a second skin over my breasts and hips, then flared out into a full skirt that fell to the floor. I nearly tripped on it as I headed back to the lounge room. I couldn’t get used to the feel of the silken fabric whispering around my legs as I walked.

  The door opened and Syl came in, carrying a pair of silver sandals. “Norma asked me to bring these home with me. Wow, you look like a model. What have you done with your hair?”

  I touched my hair self-consciously. The apartment still reeked of the three gallons of hairspray Tegan had sprayed on it to hold the style in place. “Tegan did it for me. Apollo sent the dress. He wants me to make an impression.”

  She considered me, her head tipped on one side. “Well, you’ll certainly do that. You look … you don’t look like yourself.”

  I didn’t feel like myself either. Holly came back in before I could answer, hands full of makeup. I strapped on the borrowed shoes under her approving eye; they fit, more or less, though the heels were a lot higher than I was used to. Then I sat back down in the same chair as before.

  “I can put my own makeup on, you know,” I grumbled, as she swiped concealer over the dark circles under my eyes.

  “I know,” she said, “but let me do it anyway. I want to help.”

  She was very quick and, when she was finished and showed me the effect in the mirror, I had to admit she’d done a better job than I could have.

  “Wow, thank you.” What would Jake think when he saw me like this?

  A thin wail rose from the apartment next door: Mireille, ready for another feed.

  “I’d better go,” Holly said. “You look stunning! Have a great time.”

 

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