The Goddess Chronicles Books 4-6: Urban Fantasy

by KB Anne

  The clash of swords beside her further filled her with purpose. Scott’s sword, Moralltach, felled soldier after soldier. His speed, his strength, his sword were everywhere, clearing a wide path for her.

  Kill, kill, kill, rang in her head. And she did. Dozens of them.

  A loud roar and the gnash of teeth and claw filled her ears. Gallean had joined the fray.

  “Charge,” the villagers cried as they, too, surged into battle.

  Caer ran and swung her sword, killing soldier after soldier. She found it was easy to take a life, especially one serving her enemy.

  Balor stood in the distance, watching her. An army of soldiers and beasts still separated her from him. An army she’d have to kill in order to achieve her goal.

  Balor voiced a single command. “Go.”

  His hellhounds lunged toward her. She had never killed an animal unless she’d needed it to survive. Today she’d make an exception.

  Balor grinned as he reached for his patch. If his eye fell upon Scott, Gallean, and her people, they’d all turn to stone. She would turn to stone. She cared little for her own life, but she did not foresee the death of her mentor or Scott. Or all her people.

  Doubt etched her path. She lifted her sword. She had practiced launching it many times in the woods where she spent her youth and at the targets in Gallean’s keep. Her accuracy depended on the distance. She was still too far. She doubted even magic could assist her. If she died and Balor lived, he’d take over the world once the veil was lifted. That couldn’t happen.

  She selfishly led her people to slaughter. All for her own ego.

  A wicked smile slid across Balor’s face. He thought himself victorious before the battle was even begun. He would soon discover otherwise. She raced toward him.

  “Caer, this is madness!” Scott screamed. “There are too many.”

  “If I can get closer, I can kill him. The fight will end if I can reach him.”

  His hellhounds closed in on her. The stench of rot filled her nostrils. The hellhounds’ last meal still clung to their teeth. She had but seconds before she’d be too occupied warding off their assault and miss her chance to kill Balor. She launched herself at a large oak tree and began to climb in order to avoid the hellhounds and to better position herself to get a good view of Balor. There weren’t many branches, but she climbed it nonetheless. She squeezed and reached her way up the tree, using her sword and her boots to shimmy to the uppermost branches. The bark tore at her palms, but it did not matter. She had only one goal in mind.

  “Do you think that tree will protect you from becoming my prey? My babies will push it over and devour you. Their hunger for your blood consumes them, and they will not stop until they are sated.”

  The tree shuddered as the beasts pushed and heaved against the bottom. Caer searched frantically for an escape, but there were no other trees close-by that were still standing. The onslaught of Balor’s monstrous army left nothing but torn-off tree trunks. Loud shrieks of snapping wood rippled up the tree to her. She clung to a branch as she leaned toward the broken trunks and then leapt. As one foot landed, she leapt again and again, bounding from fallen tree to fallen tree toward Balor. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t question how she was able to do it, she just leapt. The remnants of a final tree sat on a cliff far off in the distance. If she could reach it, she’d be well within range to launch her sword. She dove at the tree, soaring through the air like a bird. But instead of being scared or shifting into a swan, she felt lighter and more powerful than ever, as if she could fly for miles, as if she could fly forever.

  Her people cheered and hooted for her. Their enthusiasm gave her courage. She continued to soar toward the cliff she’d selected for her chosen task. She was almost there when Balor roared, shattering her concentration. She dropped to the rocky shoreline, falling hard. The wind lashed against her, but nothing could stop her from achieving her goal. Not the elements. Not the monster. She searched for another tree or rock to climb. She needed height to ensure accuracy. After finding one, she climbed quickly and leapt for the cliff with Balor in her sights. It was an incredible distance that no man could reach, but she was no man. She was a powerful woman, and she would have her revenge.

  He lifted his patch.

  “No,” Gallean the bear growled as he launched into the air over Balor’s men. In mid-flight, he shifted back into the wizard and threw his hands toward Caer. A giant ball of energy shot from his palms as his body solidified to stone. As he fell to the rocky shore, his stone frame shattered into a million pieces.

  “No!” Caer screamed. She raised her sword and charged.

  An invisible shield knocked her backward. As she struggled to her feet, she watched Balor’s army turn to stone in an outward wave away from Balor’s murderous gaze. Any of his remaining soldiers within the shield were soon dispatched by Scott and the villagers.

  Balor roared in fury and smashed his fists against the shield. The impact rattled her down to her bones, but the shield held under his assault.

  “Mine. She’s mine,” he cried.

  His desperation reminded her of her own hunger for revenge. Her desire to kill Balor had blinded her to the true implications of her actions. She collapsed to her knees. What had she done? Gallean had given his life for her. Why?

  Love, a voice echoed in her head.

  She cried as she banged her own fists against the shield—not to break through to get to Balor. No, to mourn for the loss of her mentor.

  Scott wrapped his arms around her. “Caer, we need to get out of here. I don’t know how long the shield will hold.”

  As if to prove his point, Balor wailed against it, and it rattled against the earth.

  “We need to get your people to safety. Do you have enough energy left for a portal?”

  She closed her eyes and imagined a gaping hole.

  “Everyone, grab hands,” Scott yelled to the villagers.

  She felt bodies and hot breath as those remaining gathered around her and Scott. In the distance, she heard the pounding of fist against shield.

  “Together?” he whispered.

  She nodded in answer, fearing her voice would be betray her.

  “Together!” he yelled to the crowd around them, and together they stepped into the portal.

  It was the last thing she remembered as the darkness took her.

  Caer had fought gallantly. Not that he had ever been in battle formations before, but she had single-handedly killed upwards of a hundred of Balor’s men on her own. He wasn’t sure how many he had killed. Something had clicked in his brain when he saw Caer take off toward Balor, and he’d unleashed Moralltach. Together they were a formidable, unstoppable team.

  Along with Gallean, they had managed to protect Caer and keep most of the villagers alive. He knew she hadn’t meant to abandon them or him and Gallean in her desire to kill Balor. She had lived a lifetime consumed with a single purpose. When Balor appeared, something within Caer snapped. She couldn’t be reasoned with or guilted into escaping. He and Gallean had both tried. The poor wizard had paid the ultimate tribute to Caer.

  Gallean had loved Caer. Scott had often observed the wizard when Caer trained. His eyes shone with pride. Gallean had tried his best to keep Caer away from Balor until their training was done, but Caer was, in many ways, as stubborn and single-minded as his sister. After a lifetime of living with strong-willed women, he knew better than to trick himself into believing they could be dissuaded from their purpose unless they alone decided it.

  He caressed Caer’s cheek. She still hadn’t awakened after she created the portal for the survivors. Between her fighting, her flying—he still couldn’t believe that she flew without shifting into a swan—and her portal creation, she was depleted. She needed time to recover. He looked around at her people. They sat in clusters around the clearing, watching her.

  A woman wearing black leather clothing with black spiked hair approached them. “How is our Queen?” she asked in hushed tones.
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br />   “Empty,” he mouthed, fearing even a whisper would disrupt Caer’s sleep.

  “Let her rest, we will raise the shield.”

  Scott furrowed his brow. What magic did they possess?

  She grinned at him. “In the Land of Shadows, we could not conduct magic, but here in our lands, our powers have been rekindled.”

  “What are you?” he mouthed. Caer was the reincarnated Goddess of Dreams, Sleep, and Prophecy. She was a shapeshifting swan and could create portals. She had even flown without shifting into the swan. What other powers did she and the rest of her people possess?

  She winked at him. “Caer is our Faerie Queen.”

  “She’s a faerie?”

  “We are all faeries.”

  Gigi wasn’t going to believe this.

  14

  It Was Always You

  The look in Alaric’s eyes can only be described as murderous. He desires to use his canines on my jugular above all else. There will be no necking, unless of course ripping out my throat counts.

  My heart breaks. Doesn’t he remember me at all? The love we shared—the lives we shared—all gone after weeks of torture. While I was in the Shadow Realm learning how to channel my magic, his memories of me were tortured out of him. The fact that he was able to leap into the shrine room before my spell blocked him demonstrates just how skilled I’ve become in my magic channeling (and I mean that in the most sarcastic way possible). Scott would say I let Alaric in on purpose because of some sadistic belief that I could turn him. He’d probably be right.

  “You,” he snarls, prowling toward me—and not in the sexy way he did when he took me into his arms in Devil’s Den and began dancing with me. He now speaks in the voice of a man tortured until my name no longer brought warmth to his heart. Until my name had become synonymous with his enemy.

  “Alaric,” I whisper. “I know you.”

  “He knows that you betrayed his kind,” daddy dearest howls from the entrance. “He knows you cursed the werewolf. He knows that—”

  “Enough.” I throw up my hand and toss a silencing spell at the entrance because, evidently, shield spells only keep someone from entering. They don’t block senseless chatter from raving lunatics.

  Now it’s only Alaric and me.

  Alaric’s eyes flash yellow as he slowly approaches. There’s no need for him to hurry now that there’s nowhere for me to hide.

  “Alaric, please,” I whisper. “You know me.”

  I grip the crystals hanging from my necklace. His step falters as his gaze falls on them.

  “I made this one for you,” I say, holding one of them up. “It’s imbued with nightlock to help ease the pain of the shift on the full moon. You don’t have to change anymore. You don’t have to turn into a monster.”

  His eyes flash yellow again. Shit. “Monster” might not have been the best word choice.

  “It’s you who’s the monster.”

  Tears flow down my cheeks. I hate this inconvenient, emotionally weak human side to me.

  It’s the reason you are here.

  He lunges at me. I fall back against the giant gold statue of Brigit. The very one he defaced in my vision. His chest heaves in and out. His eyes hold no recollection of what we shared. His claw slashes my neck, tearing the silver chain and sending the crystals flying across the room.

  I gasp. Liquid trickles down my neck and I know it’s blood. My blood.

  His nostrils flare in and out as he takes in my scent. The army of werewolves lusting for my blood awaits me in the giant cavern. Does he crave it too?

  I’m about to find out. The next few seconds could be the difference between life and death, and I’d really like to live. But more than that, I need to make him understand what we mean to each other. I slowly lift my hands. He watches me cautiously but doesn’t stop me. I rest them on his chest. Not in a defiant gesture or to push him away, but to touch him, to prove that I am not his enemy.

  He stiffens, going completely still.

  I just keep resting my hands on his warm, muscular chest and close my eyes. It’s a risky move, but if I can channel my power, maybe I can make him see what we mean to each other.

  I project the image of Metropol into his mind. The dance club in Pittsburgh, where we first danced together. The feel of my hands on him, and the way his hands felt on me. We moved as one being on the dance floor, knowing each other’s moves like we had met a hundred times before. And maybe we had. At the time, I didn’t know it was Alaric, but he knew me. He knew me.

  He gasps and tries to smack my hands away, but I keep them firm against his chest.

  “What was that?”

  “A memory of us meeting for the first time. Do you remember?”

  He blinks. His eyes flash green. He blinks again, and they return to yellow.

  I create an image of myself at the football game. I’m dressed in a sexy plunging V neck along with a snug black leather jacket and black jeans. (I might have exaggerated the sexiness a bit, but I figure it can’t hurt.) I stare through the chain link fence. I didn’t see Alaric, but he was there watching me, longing for me even then.

  He gasps again, jerking away from me. “Stop messing with my head,” he growls. “Those are false memories. You are my enemy.”

  I step toward him, trying to return my palms to his chest. “I am not your enemy.”

  “But Lizzie said you were evil and that you must suffer. That I must cause you pain,” he snarls.

  He swipes his claws at my stomach and blood seeps out. I clutch my midsection, trying to staunch the bleeding. I might be a reincarnated goddess, but that doesn’t mean I can’t die.

  “How could you?” I whisper as I slip off into unconsciousness.

  #Gasping, I sit up and clutch my midsection. Alaric tried to kill me, or maybe he did kill me. I’m either still foggy or dead—I’m not sure which. I glance around and realize I’m in my bed at Granda’s cottage, but I’m only more confused. How can that be? The last thing I remember was Alaric swiping his claws across my stomach in Brigit’s shrine room.

  Is this a dream? It must be . . . or maybe Alaric really did kill me, and I’m stuck somewhere in the in-between. I lift my shirt to inspect the gash on my stomach, the spot where Alaric swiped his claws.

  “Bandages?” I murmur to myself. He really did try to kill me.

  “What happened?” I ask aloud.

  “He brought you here,” Maddie says.

  I glance over in the direction of his voice and make out his familiar shape in the rocking chair next to the bed. “Who did?” I whisper, not daring to even fathom that anything happening right now is real.

  “I did,” Alaric says, stepping out from the shadows on the far side of the room.

  My heart stops. A giant lump lodges in my throat. I don’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified. I settle on getting to the truth instead. “You tried to kill me.”

  His face winces. “I did kill you.”

  But that must mean . . . “Am I dead?”

  He’s next to the bed in less than a heartbeat and reaches for my hand. Before he can take hold of it, I hide it under the blankets. He shakes his head sadly.

  “You were until I brought you to your altar and begged for your life.”

  His voice is still scratchy from whatever torture Lizzie put him through.

  “And what happened?”

  I still don’t know what to believe. Am I alive or dead? Gram and Mom didn’t greet me at the door to death, the one to the Otherworld. Does that mean I’m in the Underworld instead? But then why is Maddie here? Maddie isn’t evil. He’s not capable of committing murder or anything so duplicitous as to warrant a personal meeting with Derg. Me, on the other hand? Well, human me was no angel.

  Alaric reaches for my hand again, and this time I let him take it. After all, if I’m already dead, I may as well find some pleasure any way I can. His hand wraps around mine. An electric jolt zaps through my palm and up my arm, sending shock waves to my heart. Tears pour
from my eyes.

  “What does this mean? Is this some sick new method of torture?”

  Maddie reaches for my leg and gently squeezes. “He saved your life. And the containment spell that trapped you in the tunnels were lifted when your life-force stopped.”

  I rest my eyes on the one steady influence in my life. “After he tried to kill me.”

  “Maddie, can you give us a few minutes alone?” Alaric whispers low and husky. Something just below my belly button awakens.

  Maddie shifts around. “No can do, Alaric. My orders are to make sure no one hurts Gigi.”

  Alaric’s green eyes flash in warning. “I am your alpha.”

  Maddie straightens. “You were my alpha. I have a new boss now.”

  My world breaks even farther apart. More tears fall. “Maddie, don’t tell me you’re working for Maria now?”

  Maddie rolls his eyes. “Scott always said you could be thick. You,” he says, resting his hand on my shoulder. “You are my new alpha, and I will do everything in my power to protect you, so stop sneaking off in the middle of the night.”

  “Gigi, please,” Alaric whispers.

  And although I know I shouldn’t, the way he said please stirs something within me. More than anything I want to believe him.

  I press my lips together.

  “Please, Gi,” he whispers, squeezing my hand again. Another jolt of electricity causes me to grant his wish.

  “Maddie, could you give us a few minutes?”

  “Gigi, are you sure?”

  I stare into Alaric’s green eyes, the very ones I’ve missed with all my heart for so many weeks.

  “I’m sure. You can stand right outside the door.”

  “Amorin isn’t going to be happy about this,” he says, rising and crossing the room.

  “I’m sure he’s also not happy that Alaric’s in my room in the first place.”

  “’Tis true. Fine, I’m right outside, but any noise, any cry for help, any strange change in temperature,” he says, straightening to his full height and towering over Alaric, “I will take you down. I don’t care if you were my alpha or my best friend. I will protect Gigi at all costs.”