Alpha Goddess

by Amalie Howard

“So what?”

  “Did I measure up to all your other suitors?”

  Sera laughed. “Suitors? Seriously, where are you from? The middle ages?” She pretended to fiddle with the forgotten sheaf of papers on the bed next to her. “If you must know, I don’t have any suitors. Not a lot of guys lining up around the block to date this masterpiece.”

  “So number one, then?” Dev said with a wink. She punched him playfully in the shoulder at his arrogance and Dev grabbed her fist and pulled her toward him again. This time the kiss was not a tentative brush like the first, but something deeper, sweeter. All the darkness in her head disappeared, and every part of her was immersed in light. She felt weightless, anchored to Earth only by Dev’s warm lips.

  Flashes of memory burst like lightbulbs in her head.

  She was running in a field, a beautiful meadow filled with every color imaginable. Dev was chasing her, laughing, his face happy and brilliant. A flash, and then they were floating hand in hand in a lake resting against the backdrop of a magnificent waterfall. Blushing lotus flowers dotted its edges. Sera could see the bright blue of a perfect sky above them. In the next instant, they were counting shooting stars lying on a warm beach with waves lapping at their toes, and then in another flash, she was dancing with Dev, his forehead pressed to hers, in a golden hall while others spun around them.

  Sera blinked and jerked away.

  “What’s the matter?” Dev said.

  “I … I know you,” she whispered, a hand fluttering to her lips.

  “Do you?” Dev asked softly, his eyes penetrating, perceptive.

  She shook her head, feeling as if she was going to faint. Something about the kiss had felt so familiar, like she’d done it before. But she’d never kissed Dev before—they’d only just met eight months ago. He didn’t look at all surprised by her whispered confession. Instead he drew his fingers along her hairline down toward her chin, his touch like velvet.

  “That doesn’t sound weird to you?” she asked, breaking the warm spell of silence between them. The moment faded as Dev leaned back slightly.

  “Not at all. It’s possible that we knew each other in another life, another time.”

  “Like reincarnation? Come on,” she scoffed, confused by something in his eyes she couldn’t define.

  “So that’s not possible? Or is that out of the realm of what you believe these days?” Dev said, his voice suddenly cool. He stood, stretched, and walked toward her window, peering thoughtfully beyond the glass panes.

  “I’m not sure what I believe anymore,” Sera said, bewildered by his sudden coldness. Was he upset that she didn’t believe in reincarnation? A flash of what her mother had told her about Rama and Sita entered her mind—they’d been reincarnated, but they were gods, not normal mortals. Sera shoved the thought away. She hugged herself around her middle, unconsciously echoing his cool tone. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  “Anything can be reborn into something else. Just because you may travel to heaven or hell at one point, it doesn’t mean that your spirit may not return to the Mortal Realm at another time. It’s all based on choice to some degree.”

  Sera thought of the seven Demon Lords and the horrific things she’d read about them—they would hardly let their prisoners go just like that. “So, you’re saying that if you go to hell, assuming it’s real, which I’m not agreeing to, you can leave of your own free will?”

  “I don’t think it’s that simple, but yes. Easier from heaven than hell, though, would be my guess.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I don’t, but I have to believe that remorse and redemption play some role in the universe, otherwise what are we here for?”

  “But what about us possibly knowing each other before in another lifetime? What does that mean?” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “That we’re meant for each other?”

  “Why is that so inconceivable to you? I didn’t pick you for a cynic, Sera.” For some reason, his words stung.

  “Well, I never picked you for an incurable romantic either,” she shot back. “Plus, I hardly think you’d be my type anyway in this life or any other.” The lie was sour as it left her mouth.

  Dev turned and Sera thought she saw a flash of something like hurt in his eyes. “And just what would be your type? The thug-with-the-mohawk type? The guy-you-can’t-trust type?”

  “Don’t bring Kyle into this, you don’t even know him!” she snapped.

  “Do you, Sera?”

  His cool words had the desired effect that nothing else could. Like an avalanche, all of her fear and confusion and anger from the last day roiled into an uncontrollable thing. The truth was she didn’t know Kyle. Her fists clenched at her side, and she felt the hot sting of helpless tears behind her eyes. Sera blinked furiously. She hated crying.

  Her parents were wrong about her—no goddess could feel like this!

  Dev stood his ground as she advanced upon him, her jaw clenched. He stared down into her face, his golden eyes distant.

  “I know it hurts you to hear it, and I am sorry for that, but I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. In fact,” Dev said, walking past her toward the door, with a shrug toward the window, “he’s parked outside if you want to ask him yourself. I’ll see you later, Sera.”

  HIDDEN THINGS

  Kyle chewed on his lip, staring at Micah out of the corner of his eye. Micah hadn’t said much on the entire ride back, not even to elaborate on his knowledge about Sera’s father. Instead, after giving Kyle explicit instructions to drive directly to Sera’s house, he’d closed his eyes and gone into some kind of meditative state.

  The quiet was unexpectedly calming, and Kyle had spent most of the three-hour journey dwelling on what he’d say to Sera. Knowing her, she’d be so mad that he hadn’t answered her texts or calls that she probably wouldn’t speak to him for weeks. But he didn’t have that much time.

  Kyle glanced over at Micah as he pulled to a stop across from Sera’s house. The boy was awake and staring at him with eerie clear eyes. He made no move to get out of the car.

  “So what are you? Are you Yoddha, too?” Kyle finally asked.

  “Sanrak.”

  “Sanrak?” Kyle choked. So Aria must have been his protector. No wonder she’d told him to go. “But your kind … you only come here when—”

  “Yes,” Micah said. “Azrath must be stopped or everything will be lost. What he is planning will only bring about the end of the world. It has been foreseen.”

  “Can’t you and the Trimurtas stop him?”

  Micah leaned toward him, his voice soft. “That is part of the reason I am here. The Trimurtas cannot. At least not right now.”

  “Why?” Kyle asked, unprepared for the real fear he glimpsed in Micah’s eyes.

  “Because one of them is missing. He came here, and now we cannot find him.”

  “He came here?” Kyle’s voice was a whisper, barely concealing his terror.

  “Yes, in the form of an avatara. You understand what this is?”

  Kyle blinked. “It’s when a god takes the form of something mortal in this realm.”

  Micah nodded and Kyle slumped back into his seat. Over the years, Kyle had read of old legends of the Trimurtas taking the form of human avataras to visit the Mortal Realm as a way for them to reconnect with humanity. Other stories told of the avataras visiting the Mortal Realm to divert world calamities or to prevent human tragedy. But despite their immortality, the avatara form was vulnerable because it was susceptible to the frailty of its mortal body. In short, it was a risk not taken lightly.

  “What do you mean you can’t find him? Surely you can feel his energy somewhere. Don’t they have guards?”

  “He left alone. We cannot sense him in Illysia or here.” Micah threw open the passenger door. “Come, let’s go. Samsar is waiting.”

  Kyle hesitated, closing his gaped mouth. The thought of facing Sera’s mother again made him feel ill. “Micah, they really don’t like me. I’m not
sure it’s a good idea if I go in there. Can I just wait out here?”

  To Kyle’s surprise, Micah nodded and walked across the street without a second look. Micah trusts me, he thought. It was a good feeling, one that Kyle hadn’t felt in a long time. Trust was hard to come by, especially for someone like him. Given what he was and what he’d helped Jude and his friends do to Micah’s kind, it was shocking that Micah hadn’t dispatched him immediately.

  Sitting in the car, Kyle remembered the words Sera’s mother had said to him when they last met. He still felt the hot grip of her fingers on his wrist.

  You are not welcome here, Azura. Return, and I will not be this merciful.

  The threat, though spoken with a measure of kindness, had been real. She’d meant every word. He had to find a way to talk to Sera alone—to explain it all properly. Kyle clenched his fingers into fists, consumed by doubt. He’d participated in the killing of Daeva, even if he hadn’t done the deed himself. Aria had died because of him. What was he thinking? He’d be stupid to confess anything to Sera—she would never be able to forgive him … even if she believed him.

  What was he even doing here?

  Just as he was turning the keys in the ignition, a face at the window made him freeze.

  Sera.

  She tapped on the glass, and he rolled the window down.

  “What are you doing?” Sera asked. Kyle glanced back at the house. Micah was nowhere in sight.

  “Nothing.” He fidgeted with the steering wheel. “Look, Sera, I’m sorry about not answering your texts or calls. It’s been a pretty rough time, and I … ” He trailed off, hardly able to look at her.

  Sera frowned then slipped around to the other side of the car, falling into the front seat. “Let’s go to your place. We need to talk.”

  “Are you sure? Your parents—”

  “—will understand,” she finished without hesitation, despite an anxious look toward her house. “Just drive. I need to get out of here, too.”

  As he drove, he could feel her staring at him, but she remained quiet, which wasn’t at all like her. Instead of ripping into him for being a jerk, she simply sat with her hands clasped across her lap, watching him with thoughtful eyes until he pulled into Carla’s driveway.

  “Carla’s away for a couple days at some conference,” he said, unlocking the front door. Sera followed and almost crashed into his back as he stopped short in the entry hall. The house was completely trashed and reeked of sulfur. Kyle shoved Sera behind him with one hand, placing the other to his lips. She nodded, eyes wide.

  “Wait here,” he mouthed to her. He crept forward and peered into the living room. Tables and chairs were flipped over. Holes were gouged into the walls and blackened spots tarred the carpets.

  “Carla?” he called quietly.

  There was no answer. He crept back into the hallway and inched toward the kitchen. Broken glass and china littered the floor. The refrigerator lay on its side like a casket, its doors wide open and gaping. The smell of half-spoiled food wafted in between the layers of sulfur. He gagged.

  Something touched his back and he swung around, almost knocking Sera off her feet. “What?!” he hissed. “I told you to stay over there.”

  “Sorry!” she hissed back, eyes narrowing. “I heard a noise. Upstairs. It sounded like someone crying.”

  Kyle grabbed a sharp butcher’s knife that was on the floor and turned back to Sera. “Maybe you should go wait in the car.”

  She glared at him. “I’m not leaving you. You have no idea what I’ve been through the last couple days, Kyle, so don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” Any amusement Kyle may have felt quickly faded as another noise came from upstairs. It sounded like something scratching at the floorboards.

  “Just stay behind me. And don’t go getting any wild ideas,” he warned.

  Silently, Kyle expanded his energy. He couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary on the landing. He expanded his awareness to the rooms beyond it and pain jackknifed through his brain like a lance. He bounded up the stairs, with Sera close behind him, and pushed open the door to the master bedroom. Carla lay on the bed, looking almost like she was sleeping.

  Kyle frowned, a sudden pressure tugging at his head again. Something wasn’t right. Movement distracted him as Sera rushed toward the bed. “Wait.”

  Sera halted in her tracks, her face terrified. “She’s hurt, Kyle. I heard her crying, remember?”

  “No, wait. Something’s wrong, I can feel it.” Kyle pushed back against the pressure that had caused him to see spots before. It was local, clouding his thinking. It was so close that he could almost push past it …

  Instinctively, he closed his eyes to focus, but a sudden gasp made them snap open. Sera had turned back toward the bed and stood still, her mouth wide in horror. He followed her gaze. They both stared as Carla transformed into what looked like a giant feline creature, although twice the size of any normal cat. A nekomata demon.

  Nekomatas were a particularly clever brand of shape-shifter that bore little allegiance to anyone but their own kind and served whomever fed their fancies and their bellies. The nekomata yawned lazily, opening two pairs of eyes on either side of its head, and licked one of its front paws while honing in on them both.

  “Sera,” Kyle said. “Take a step back toward me. Slowly.”

  “What the hell is that?” she whispered back. She half-stepped back, and the demon uncurled itself from a sitting position. Sera froze. It lengthened its red hairless back into an inverted semicircle as it stretched, its two tails waving in grotesque deformity.

  “Slowly. Try not to move too suddenly,” Kyle warned. “It’s a nekomata demon. A shape-shifter.”

  “A demon!” He glanced at her as she took another barely perceptible step backward.

  “I tried to tell you.”

  “When did you ever try to tell me that you had demons in your house, Kyle Knox?” Her whisper was shrill, causing the nekomata to flatten its ears against its head. Kyle waved his arms, drawing its attention.

  “You’re here for me,” he shouted to the creature. “Not her. What do you want?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle saw Sera take another small step toward him. He gauged the distance in his head and knew he could knock her out of the way if need be. Closer would be better. He gestured to her urgently with a small jerk of his head.

  “It talks?” she whispered, creeping back another inch.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never actually been this close to one.” He turned as the nekomata jumped off the bed and circled the edge of the room toward the doorway, effectively blocking any escape. Kyle’s stance widened. At least it put Sera behind him.

  “What do you want?” he repeated to the demon.

  “Prisssse, come,” it hissed. Sera jumped, her ears ringing. The demon’s voice was like the sound of nails screeching across metal. “Kahlllisssss.”

  “What’s it saying?” Sera said in another shrill whisper. “What does it want you to do? Press what?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Kyle said, brandishing the knife he’d kept hidden behind his back. The nekomata snarled, its body swelling to double its size. Its eyes rolled back and foam pooled at the corners of its mouth.

  “Prisssse, come!” the nekomata growled, agitated now, and scratched at the wall with both of its tails. Red fire spurted from where the tails grated across the brick. “Girl, eat.”

  “Now would be a good time for a plan,” Sera said. “I don’t want to be that thing’s dinner.” Kyle glanced behind him. She was frozen, staring at the creature.

  The nekomata continued to scratch against the wall with its tails. With a final swish and a streak of red fire, it twisted its tails in a low arc and stopped. In slow motion, the tails started moving back and forth like twin sharks. Its black lips pulled back from its jaws, exposing its deadly fangs, and it crouched low, belly to the floor.

  “Kyle …” Sera warned. Kyle glanced at her quivering body.


  “Sera, when I move, try to get near the bed,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “If you see an opening for the door, you run! Do you hear me?” She nodded as if in a daze, meeting his eyes briefly. “Now!” he yelled.

  Before the thing had a chance to react to his shout, Kyle dove at it, his large arms grabbing the creature around its midsection as he plunged the knife into its left flank. A terrible howling burst from the demon’s mouth as they both fell to the floor, a mass of thrashing limbs and claws.

  The nekomata’s powerful hind legs dug into Kyle’s exposed stomach as it bucked wildly to get him off. Ignoring the sharp tear of nails ripping through his skin, Kyle swung a knee up over its lower body and plunged the knife into its side. The demon screeched, greenish ichor pouring over Kyle’s hand. His stomach heaved at the rotten odor.

  “Sera, go!” he screamed. Jolted into motion, Sera scrabbled around them, skidding toward the door.

  With a powerful shove, the nekomata kicked Kyle halfway across the room and twisted toward her, saliva spraying from its mouth. Sera grabbed the only thing within her reach, a small iron stool, and hurled it at the creature. The edge of the iron smashed into its head, the sound of wetly crunching bone echoing in the room. Still, the nekomata was undeterred, launching itself at her with uncontrollable hunger. She flung her arms up in a futile block.

  Shrieking, Kyle threw himself at the nekomata in a football tackle and they both crashed into the wall, bits of wood and brick bursting apart. Kyle screamed as the demon buried its serrated fangs into his arm—he stabbed at its eyes with his free hand until it released him, howling. His left arm hung useless at his side, dripping blood, and he backed away.

  The nekomata now stood between him and Sera, the doorway blocked by its muscled bulk. Sera stared at it silently, holding a lamp base in her hands. The demon hissed, unmoving, thick fetid blood oozing from its wounds. The air stank of blood and gore. Then Kyle saw the gouges where the demon’s eyes had been. He’d blinded it.

  “What now?” Sera whispered.

  The creature whipped its tails against its body at the sound of her voice, its head swaying back and forth. It was blinded but its other senses were still sharp. With a snarl, it leapt toward her, claws extended, and smashed into Sera’s shoulder, sending her careening into the side of an armchair. And then it was on top of her, even as Kyle flung himself after it, grasping at its hind legs and dragging it off her body.