Bedeviled (3 page)

To her dismay, he was neither naked nor wearing a bow.

Chapter Three

K
yana had assumed her working relationship with Ryker was over. Their little practice hunt last night was meant to be the last before she set off to find Haven. Instead, he was standing in front of her, packed and ready to go and sexy as hell—freshly showered with his hair slightly damp and curling against the collar of his linen button-up, beach-bum shirt.

She couldn't figure out if she was annoyed that he'd be coming with her, or relieved. Both maybe. With Ryker, it was always that way. A jumble of contradictions that played havoc with her insides until she was confused by her own wants and fears.

She wasn't stupid. She knew why the gods were placing him with her again. He was his father's right-hand man, and Ares would have made certain Ryker knew his duty.

“So you're just my bodyguard? You don't have orders to kill Haven if I can't subdue her?”

That he wouldn't meet her gaze was enough for Kyana. The Order of Ancients was made up of gods and Oracles, and a slew of magical beings, who were the only bodies standing between the human race and the devastation Cronos was threatening to bring down upon them if he was raised. They upheld the world's order and kept mischief to a minimum, and since Haven was trying to resurrect Cronos, they wanted her dead—even if she
was
one of their own. That was something Kyana wouldn't allow. Not unless she knew without a doubt that the monster she'd created couldn't be tamed.

And she was nowhere near that conclusion.

Kyana turned her focus back to Artemis. “I know how important this mission is. Haven has to be found and stopped. I can do that, but you have to trust me.”

“Can you bring yourself to kill your best friend?” Ryker asked.

She refused to acknowledge him, but he already knew the answer anyway. As much as it killed her to admit it, she didn't think she
would
be able to take Haven's life. And unless she was sure she couldn't reach Haven's human side and get her to willingly return to the Order, no one else was going to kill her either.

“I'm sorry, Kyana, but this isn't a request,” Artemis said, her voice stern though regret filled her gaze. “Ryker will join you.”

“Then he doesn't touch her without my permission.” Kyana faced Ryker, though her question was put to Artemis. “But those aren't his orders, are they?”

“My orders are to protect the Goddess of the Hunt.”

“By killing Haven?”

Ryker held her gaze. “If that turns out to be necessary.”

She grabbed her bag from the back of one of the tall, gold-gilded chairs and turned to the door. “It won't be.” She was willing to stake her life on it.

“You are free to take a different guard if you truly wish to.” Artie held up her hand to ward off Kyana's interruption. “But will you trust a stranger to fight with you as easily as you already trust Ryker? I believe that together, you stand a chance of success. If you refuse his help and fail to stop Cronos, then you've sentenced all of us to a fate much worse than death.”

Kyana hadn't intended to put up any more argument anyway, but when she put it like that, Artemis had pretty much made saying no impossible. It was Kyana's responsibility to find Haven. To stop her. Otherwise, all the deaths Artie predicted would be Kyana's fault.

She might not care much for the human race, but she didn't want to be the one responsible for them being wiped off the planet either.

“So much for free will.” Reminded of a pair of beings who'd lost their own free will long ago, she straightened to her full height. “Artemis, I can be compliant, and I hope you can return the favor.”

“What is it you want?”

“Bring Farrel and Crag here,” she said, referring to the minions who'd served her when she'd been a tracer.

They were bound to her, forced to endure a hundred years of service in exchange for their release from the Fields of Punishment in the Underworld. If they completed their hundred years, Hades would lift them from their binds and they'd be allowed entrance into the Elysian Fields. Because Kyana was technically no longer their master, they'd be forced to begin their hundred years all over again. Since they were already thirty years into their servitude, the unfairness of that twisted her heart. They might have been pretty awful in their human existence to wind up in the Fields of Punishment with other sinners who weren't quite bad enough to go to Tartarus, but as her minions, they'd redeemed themselves.

“You have your precious Nymphs,” she pressed on. “I'd like Farrel and Crag to continue their service to me so they aren't forced to start all over again with someone else.”

Artemis smiled, and Kyana could all but read the thoughts bouncing in her pretty head. Kyana had a heart. Who knew? When the goddess nodded her consent, Kyana started down the temple steps.

“It was nice of you to think of Farrel and Crag,” Ryker said, catching up to her.

She ignored him.

When she reached the portal that would take them directly Above to the humans' world, he grabbed her arm to prevent her from stepping through. “This is your hunt, Kyana. I won't interfere unless I have no choice.”

Somewhat placated, she nodded. “Good.”

His fingers warmed her skin. It felt good. Too good. She pulled away and slipped through the portal.

On the other side, the Castillo de San Marcos was in chaos. Kyana was nearly jostled back through the portal as guards rushed by her, knocking her into Ryker, who had to find a hold on the wall to keep himself upright. She dodged her way to the door, her eyes wide and unblinking as she took in the confusion of what was normally a pretty tranquil fort.

Sentinels ran from every direction, their shouts and pounding footsteps obscuring all sound. Set against the backdrop of a glorious sunrise, panic spread like the plague among those stationed in the old fort, which had become the South Eastern United States' headquarters for the Order of Ancients when Tartarus had opened up over two weeks ago and released Hell on Earth.

A second group of sentinels rushed from the portal room and into the plaza courtyard. She craned her neck, casting her gaze over the tall heads around her to peer up at the sun with a smidgeon of self-pity. It had been more than two hundred years since she'd been able to glimpse a sunrise without fear of being turned into charbroiled Vamp, and now that the sun wasn't her enemy, she still hadn't found a peaceful morning to appreciate it.

Her pity party was crashed by a noxious odor that forced a brutal cough from her lungs.

Ryker stopped walking. “What the—”

“—hell is that smell?” Kyana finished for him, bracing her hands against his back to avoid another collision.

Together, they maneuvered their way into the courtyard and up the stairs to stand on the edge of the bastion overlooking Matanzas Bay. While the sky was gloriously alive, the bay itself looked as though it had died. The stench of dead fish turned her stomach as she looked down to find the surface shadowed by bloated carcasses.

“What the hell caused that?”

Ryker stepped away from the edge. He shoved his way down the stairs through the guards running up them and disappeared out of the fort, leaving Kyana to follow after him. As she moved toward what had once been the fort's pay station, the overpowering stench of dead fish in the air nearly smothered Ryker's scent as she struggled to follow him. He glanced back at her, held out his hand which she took, and yanked her beside him.

Together they ran in a whirl of speed that made their surroundings blur. She had no idea where they were or where they were headed, but she clung to Ryker's hand for dear life.

The sound of distant waves crashing against the sand tunneled toward her. Minutes later, they slowed and stepped onto the sands of St. Augustine beach. Standing at Ryker's side, she looked into the distance. For what, she didn't know, but figured when he found it, he'd say so.

“Something's wrong.”

“I gathered that with the Matanzas Chain Saw Massacre back there. But what?”

His gaze on the darkened waters, he moved his lips, but his words didn't carry on the wind. Kyana frowned, fascinated and puzzled at the same time. She'd seen his ability to speak without being overheard firsthand, but there'd always been someone in the room, someone he'd been talking to.

The small conch shell at his throat glowed red.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to get someone to contact Poseidon.”

“Can't you just contact him directly? And why didn't I know you could call people with those things?”

The day Tartarus had broken its bounds, they'd all been given Beacons. A way for the gods to contact them when they were needed. Kyana hadn't known
they
could call
the gods
with it.

“Not everyone can,” Ryker finally answered, his focus still on the waters. “The tides are all wrong.”

She looked at the crashing waves. The tides seemed fine. Okay, so there were lifeless lumps clumped along the waterline that she guessed were dead sea creatures, but nothing like what had happened to the bay.

“How do you know there's something wrong with the tides? Other than the dead fish, I mean.”

“The tide should have rolled to where we're standing, yet the sand is bone dry. All the dead fish . . . the tides . . . something's definitely wrong.”

Ryker wore a dire look on his face that did nothing to calm her ever rising panic. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe whatever he
thought
was happening wasn't.

“How do you know where the water should be?”

“Surfer Boy, remember?” he said, referring to the nickname she'd given him when they'd first started working together to bring the Chosen replacements safely into the Order of Ancients. “I know the tides. It affects the waves and we can't surf without waves.”

Something big at the water's edge caught her eye. Kyana made her way closer to the surf for a better look. Squinting against the sun, she tried to convince herself it was a dolphin or a small whale maybe, but her keen eyesight wouldn't let her fool herself into believing it.

Man, I am out of my element with this one.

“Let's go, Ky. I have to go back to Olympus and check in with Ares, then we can—”

“Ryker?” she interrupted, turning to cast a wary glance at him. “Look.”

“What?”

“I can't be certain since I've never met him.” She eyed the naked man at her feet. “But I think we just found Poseidon.”

Chapter Four

L
et the Healers tend Poseidon and I'll send word when we learn what happened.”

Kyana couldn't acknowledge Artie's request. She was too busy gawking at Zeus. He loomed tall and broad next to his brother Hades as well as Hades's replacement, Geoffrey. Even Ryker, who stood at six foot seven, was dwarfed by the god of gods.

For the first time in a long time, Kyana was in awe of another being.

It was the first time since her relocation to Beyond that Zeus had made an appearance, and he wasn't at all what she'd expected. He wasn't old or draped in long white hair. He didn't even have a beard. He looked thirty, well built, and had hair the color of Ryker's—sort of dirty blond, sun-kissed around the face. He also had the most stunning ice blue eyes Kyana had ever seen. So blue, in fact, they looked white against his tanned skin.

She shouldn't have been surprised by the god's appearance, given her first glimpse of Poseidon. He too looked far younger than she'd imagined, even while ghostly pale and nearly dead. Hades, on the other hand, looked like he could croak any minute. Probably that whole lack of sunlight thing. She could only hope her friend Geoffrey would continue to poke his head out of the Underworld on occasion now that he'd taken over the position as God of All Things Shudder-Worthy. He was too beautiful to waste away like his predecessor.

Zeus hovered close to his wounded brother. Worry deepened the lines around his eerie, pale blue eyes. His whispers didn't carry across the massive bedroom–turned–Healing Circle, but the words he spoke caused the gold filament decorating the headboard to quake.

She took it all in. Zeus's temple.
The
temple. While Artemis's temple was floor-to-ceiling marble, Zeus's was molded with gold, silver, bronze. Lots of bronze. Pillars stood one behind the other, spaced ten feet or so apart, and between each, gold and jeweled tapestries hung from the ceiling, lending a richness to the interior that made Kyana feel tiny and insignificant. It was a cold home, one she wouldn't like to live in, but it was stunning all the same.

“Kyana.” Artemis's grip tightened and Kyana was forced to look at her. “They need to be alone with their brother.”

In case he doesn't make it.

Her gaze strayed to Poseidon. He lay on his belly, a golden blanket with Zeus's lightning crest covering him from hip to toe. His back was left bare so the Healers could tend the three punctures the size of grapefruits that formed a morbid pattern beneath each shoulder bone, a third in the center of his back.

“What are those marks and why are they killing him?”

The fear in Artie's eyes didn't sit well. “Those are the marks of Poseidon.”

“You mean the trident?”

Artemis nodded. “He was coherent enough when Ryker brought him in. He said . . . He said he saw who did this to him.”

She didn't want to hear any more. Didn't want to know what had the goddess so worried. But Artemis pressed on. “It was Haven. He saw her, Kyana. She's crossed a line I don't think she can be saved from—”

“No!” Like a child being told there was no Santa Claus, Kyana cupped her hands over her ears and fell onto the last step of the massive staircase behind her. She moved her hands to her face and blocked out the sight of Artemis's sandals. “No. I don't believe that. People have delusions when they're hurt—”

“Poseidon's not a person, he's a god!” Anger shook Artemis's words. She heaved a sigh and sat beside Kyana. “There was no delusion. She is guilty. Above that, she has the trident. If she gets her hands on the other Eyes of Power . . .”

Kyana didn't need her to finish. Poseidon's trident, Zeus's staff, Hades's amulet, and Cronos's own ring all comprised the Eyes of Power. Haven already had one. If she got her hands on the others, she was a talented enough Witch to perform the ceremony that would bring him back. Mix that with the new Vampyre and Lychen blood swirling around inside her to make her loony tunes, and she was way more than capable.

It had to be Cronos pushing her to accomplish his goals. Kyana knew that. He'd come for Haven days ago when she'd been recovering in the Healing Circle where Mystics had been attempting to purge Kyana's Half-Breed blood from her veins. But Cronos had gotten to her first. The result had been the murder of Mystics and Haven's escape.

She had lived with Haven for almost five years. They were each the better half of the other—Haven rational, sweet, and emotional. Kyana rash, temperamental, and strong. They'd fought alongside each other. Laughed. Cried. Loved.

For two hundred years, she hadn't allowed herself to give a damn about anyone or anything. But then Haven had become Kyana's sister in every way that mattered, and had opened Kyana's heart enough to embrace Geoffrey as family too.

And one day, maybe even Ryker.

Now Haven was out there, controlled by a mad god. Knowing what Haven had already done didn't stop Kyana from defending her.

“If she did this, it wasn't her, Artemis. He's controlling her, making her do things. She's served this Order for over a decade. How can you give up on her so easily?”

Artemis squeezed Kyana's knee. “I haven't, which is why I want you out there hunting her before Ares's tracers can find her. They won't be as merciful as mine.”

They rose to their feet together, Kyana more determined than ever to get off the mountain and do her job. She let Artemis guide her down the stairs leading to the ground floor of Zeus's temple. When they stood outside surrounded by bronze statuettes and hardy oaks, she ignored the goddess's pooches who nudged her hand in a plea for attention and turned to face Artemis.

“Do you think Poseidon will live?”

“I do. But his powers will not recover. We found his Chosen, but lost him again before we could bring him Below. We must find him a temporary Vessel until we can locate a permanent replacement.”

Kyana nodded. If Poseidon died, so would the world's waters. Which would bring a drought the human race wouldn't survive. Extinction would come, and at the hands of Haven and Cronos.
Lovely.

“So you find a Vessel for Poseidon and I get my hands on Haven before she finds a way to get hers on the other Eyes of Power.” She rolled her eyes. “Piece of cake.”

“Find Haven, return her to us, and bury Cronos once and for all. The Ancients will find another Chosen in time.”

Making sure no one was within hearing distance, Kyana admitted, “How can one tracer and three dogs stop what Cronos is trying to do?”

“You add one demigod to even out the odds and stir,” Ryker said, joining them on the steps of Zeus's temple.

That he'd heard her confess her fears made Kyana want to deck him. That he didn't comment saved him from the punishing blow.