Bedeviled

Bedeviled

A Dark Breed Novel

Sable Grace

Dedication

To the first hero I ever met, my daddy. Thank you for loving me even though I'm a dreamer!

And, of course, to Kyle. As always.

–Heather

To Heather, who knows why. You're the greatest!

And to Carmine, for knowing all my faults and loving me in spite of them.

–Laura

Contents

Prologue

H
aven Monroe's legs trembled as she looked over the black waters of the Atlantic. She couldn't remember coming here. Couldn't remember how her clothes had gotten soaked, or why her hair and skin felt sticky with salt water. But what worried her most was the three-pointed weapon in her hand, and why it was covered in blood.

She wasn't bleeding. It wasn't
her
blood.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Over the last couple of days, her lapses in memory had grown more and more frequent.

Each time she'd tried to remember how she ended up in the strange places, she'd blacked out and had awakened somewhere new. And when she
was
aware of what was happening to her, her mind kept pulling forth images of a small trailer and the scent of beer and cigarettes, and the possibilities that her new strength could bring her.

Go. Do what you've longed to do for twenty-seven years!

But she couldn't. A small piece of Haven clung to the knowledge that, should she listen to that evil, masculine voice that had been taunting her for days, there would be no coming back to humanity. Ever.

The thirst for revenge was so strong, she couldn't shake free of it. Revenge on her father whose own out-of-control rage had murdered her sister so many years ago. Revenge on the world for giving up on Haven when she'd tried so hard to keep it safe.

And at the top of Haven's list, Kyana. No longer just her closest friend, but her Sire. Kyana, a Half-Breed Vampyre/Lychen with balls of steel and a heart of concrete, had made her what she was now. Had created the beast inside her in a misplaced attempt to save her life, and Haven hated her for it. She held on to the anger that had kept her company when the voices in her head left her alone. She would rather have died than become what Kyana had made her, and yet right now, Kyana was Haven's only hope.

She closed her eyes, wishing the smell of blood wasn't so strong. Wishing she could block out the horrible feeling that came with the weapon in her hand. She shouldn't even be able to touch it. But there was a god inside her. An angry, hate-filled god who wanted revenge of his own. She wanted him out of her. Now. Wanted to lose the pain of her skin stretching to encompass him, of her own soul shifting to make room.

If she could link to Kyana . . . Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe revenge wouldn't need to be found on anyone . . .

They'd linked once before, and she had known the moment Kyana stepped into her head. But that had been days ago. She tried it now but nothing came. Kyana wasn't there when she needed her. Revenge sounded better and better.

“No! I am not this person!”

You are whoever I say you are.

The low, masculine baritone was a quiet scream.

“I am not your toy!”

You are whatever I say you are.

She again felt the floating sensation that had become as familiar as her breath. That blackness. The reason for her gaps in memory. She knew if she couldn't find a way to fight him, he'd consume her. Make her do things she couldn't remember.

How did one fight back when the darkest god ever to have lived had taken up residence in one's soul? If she'd ever suspected her powers as a Witch might leave her susceptible to this—gods save her . . . How could she have known?

He was speaking to her now, a cold whisper on the breeze lifting from the ocean. She nodded her compliance, told him she understood his commands though all she wanted was to scream that she wouldn't obey. She knew she would. She had no control anymore.

He was inside her, forcing her to smile, to caress the sharp points of the bloody weapon like a lover's body.

Poseidon's trident. She remembered.

And she couldn't push past his influence long enough to embrace the horror of what she'd done.

Of what she was about to do.

Chapter One

K
yana Aslan shook off the exhilaration shivering under her skin and tossed a grin at Ryker. The demigod smiled back, his teeth blindingly white in the shadows of Matanzas State Forest.

Becoming a goddess certainly had its perks. Like running fifty miles in under five minutes without the smallest hint of exhaustion. She'd only been the new Goddess of the Hunt for a day, and while she didn't yet have most of Artemis's powers, the little she did have made her old pacing look like . . . well, it was like trying to compare a wild Mustang to a sleek, gorgeous black Arabian. Both got you where you wanted to go quickly, but the Arabian got you there in style.

“Ky? You ready? We'll have to take them by surprise.”

Ryker looked so incredibly yummy in his camos, it was difficult to concentrate. Wind-tousled blond hair fell over his silver eyes, casting a shadow across his well-sculpted profile making him look more like a statue of his father, Ares, than the half human he was.

This was only a scouting mission, an exercise to practice the few skills Kyana had inherited from Artemis. And she was loving every minute of it. Being allowed off Olympus for the first time in days was like being let out of a cage. Flying off with Ryker, whom she was coming to like more than she should, was just icing on the cake. That he was wearing those yummy camos was the creamy filling.

Ryker's expression of concentration was broken by the tiny smile teasing the corner of his full lips, the small fangs bestowed on all demigods glistening in the moonlight. He obviously knew what she was thinking, knew she was probably remembering what he looked like
out
of those camos, but he was gentleman enough not to mention it. Instead, he pointed to the meeting they'd come to intercept. She studied the clearing as he spoke instructions into her ear, though in all honesty, her blood was pounding too loudly to hear anything else.

If the informant who'd come to Artemis was right, this meeting was being held by those who supported the resurrection of Cronos, an ancient god who'd committed the ultimate sin of trying to off his sons, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. If they could catch one of these bastards and bring it in alive, maybe they'd be able to find and stop the person who was trying to bring Cronos back to life.

That person happened to be Kyana's closest friend in the world, which made this
practice
mission even more important.

Her determination settled more firmly in her gut as she peered into the darkness. There was enough of her old Vampyric blood in her to make scanning the trees effortless. Her gaze fell upon rising smoke half a football field away, and while she couldn't see the bodies, the tracer in her could sense them, feel them. She wanted to hunt them.

But the goddess in her wanted answers more than bloodshed.

She wiggled her toes inside her boots. “I'm ready. But I want to listen before we jump in. See if they mention Haven.”

She didn't wait for Ryker's protest. A hundred-foot pine fell into her line of sight, almost exactly where she wanted to be. She didn't think her feet ever touched the forest floor as she sprinted the fifty yards, looked up at her branch, and sprang from her toes. When she landed in a crouch on top of the thick limb overhead, she wasn't even winded.

Pressing her belly to the rough branch, she slithered to the end where she could hang her head over, unseen. Pine needles poked through her leather vest and stabbed at her armpits, but she didn't stop to scratch. Soon, Ryker was there, lying flat on top of her as he too pressed himself low to watch.

“This wasn't the plan,” he grumbled, his breath fanning her hair.

“Hush.”

He'd wanted to strike immediately, to attack before the ceremony had even begun. Surprisingly, she'd been more patient. It went against her normal instincts to wait it out, but she was pretty sure listening and gathering more intel before rushing in was the smarter thing to do. Practice or not, she wanted something to take back to Olympus with her. Something that would help her prevent Haven from doing something too stupid to forgive.

Besides, the gods and goddesses were losing more of their powers every day. Anything Kyana could find out to stop their Chosen replacements from being picked off by Cronos's followers would be a boon.

She wiggled to get more comfortable. Big mistake. Ryker's groin stabbed against the backs of her thighs, and if he hadn't been plastering her to the tree, she probably would have been distracted enough to roll right off the branch and into the middle of the coven below.

His fingers bit into the back of her leg, pinning her in place. “Stop moving.”

As a pair, they, apparently, were not built for a stakeout.

“From the fires of the Underworld, I offer you my wings!” The mutterings of the group grew louder and more coherent as a Hatchling lowered its black cloak to the ground and spread its wings to the skies. Thin, golden scales stretched out over spidery veins and bones, and his reptilian face glistened eerily in the shadowed light of the moon.

“I didn't know Hatchlings could speak,” Kyana mumbled. “Did you know they could speak?”

Ryker nudged her and she shut up, watching as the being beside the Hatchling also lowered its cloak.

“My loyal offering . . . Take my sight!”

“What are they doing?” she whispered.

“Offering their strongest assets to aid in Cronos's return.”

The creature tilted its long neck toward the treetops, its face contorted with agony as blood streamed from its black eyes.

“What the hell is that?”

“Damn it, Kyana, if they hear you . . .” He sighed and pressed his lips to her ear. “It's a Dark Seer. Now please shut up.”

Kyana sucked in a gasp before it could escape. Seers weren't demons. They were humans born with the ability to see into the future—the equivalent of Oracles on Olympus but to a lesser, more mortal degree. But this thing didn't appear human. It had black, shriveled skin and looked more like a mummy than anything she had ever seen. Except, of course, for actual mummies.

As the nine others in the circle dropped their cloaks and offered their strengths to the god they prayed would return to them, Kyana listened, waiting to make her move. A hush fell over the group below and the fire blazing in their center danced as though they'd been heard by someone other than her and Ryker.

Cronos hadn't risen, and if she could do anything about it, he never would. But that didn't stop her from worrying. He was dead, yet he'd managed to find a way to circumvent that minor inconvenience and plan his own resurrection. She wasn't dumb enough to underestimate what he was capable of.

Even from the grave, he'd managed to turn Haven, the sweetest, most gentle Witch she had ever met, into a maniacal puppet. The pain of that crime was still so fresh and raw, Kyana wore it like lotion all over. Dead or alive, Cronos was a psychotic, dangerous mother trucker.

Haven was her best friend. That she'd kinda sorta turned Haven into a mix of Vampyre and Lychen to save her life hadn't changed that. Neither had the fact that her blood had driven Haven slightly cuckoo and now she was hell-bent on destroying the world on behalf of the dead-but-still-deadly god Cronos.

It was Kyana's job to hunt her down and bring her back to sanity before she accomplished that goal.

Maybe they
should
have stopped this meeting before it started as Ryker had wanted to. Maybe it
wasn't
wise to give them a chance to make progress toward Cronos's plan to come back.

“Can Cronos really accept what these things are offering?”

Ryker adjusted himself and leaned over her other ear. “They're not offering them to Cronos.”

“Then who—” Kyana's blood went colder than usual. She didn't need him to answer. “Haven.”

As he nodded, his chin rubbed against her hair, making her shiver. He groaned and tightened his hands on her hips to hold her still.

“But I don't think they have a clue what they're doing,” he said. “Haven's not a god. She can't accept gifts like this.”

Thank Zeus.

Kyana didn't need these buffoons making her job harder. She had only seven days before she'd lose her Vamp/Lychen abilities in exchange for full goddess-ship. Learning to become the new Goddess of the Hunt while trying to bring down the only real family she had was going to suck. Majorly.

Not willing to consider what would happen if she didn't meet her deadline, she focused on the group below her. One of the creatures down there had the information she needed, and she was determined to get it.

“Ready?” she asked, thrusting her butt in the air to buck Ryker off her back. When his weight disappeared, she pushed herself back into a crouch position and leaned her upper body over the limb. The branch was strong, but with both of them standing on it, their weight unevenly distributed, it cracked under their feet. If they weren't ready, the tree was.

“Give me a minute.” He pointed down at the circle of Cronos groupies. “They're about to start their closing chant. When you hear the final hum, go. I'll be right there with you.”

Before she could ask where the hell he thought he was going, he was gone. She caught a flash of blond hair from the corner of her eye, and watched its trail swing through the tree branches to the opposite side of the clearing.

Tarzan.
Me likey.

The branch crackled again. She sucked in her breath and focused on the chanting, waiting for the hum Ryker seemed to think she'd recognize. But then the bottom fell out from under her feet. Instinct brought her hands straight up, and she clawed at the branch hanging overhead just before the broken limb beneath her tumbled into darkness, crashing smack in the center of the coven.

“Shit shit shit.”

She swung herself up to a sturdier branch and swore she heard Ryker mimic her curses. There was no more waiting. She dropped, catching another branch in her hands, and swung out and over the coven, swooping down upon their group to land gracefully on her feet. They closed in just as Ryker landed behind her.

Kyana was pissed. Not that her branch had given way, but that they were going to have to kill these traitors before they could force any useful information out of them.

“Can't leave you for a minute,” he muttered, pressing his back to hers.

Furious that their ceremony had been interrupted, all eleven Dark Breed drooled and sputtered, practically frothing at the mouth in outrage. Two human-looking cowards fled, disappearing into the darkness, but the other nine stayed put. She tried to take them all in, to see what breeds they were to better prepare for their strengths and weaknesses, but other than the Dark Seer and the Hatchling, they all wore hoods that covered their features.

She hated fighting blind, but she had no choice.

A few of them flew backward as Ryker tapped into his telekinesis. She hadn't had time to learn such a thing and didn't even know if she ever could. It was going to have to be all sweat and fists for her.

She kicked out, catching one under the chin. Its hood fell off, revealing the face of another Hatchling. Black blood spewed from his mouth and his jaw to make a horrific crunching noise before falling open at a disjointed angle. He came at her, his orangey wings open and his claws outstretched like an eagle dipping in for its prey.

She ducked. The Hatchling tumbled over her and as it landed on its back, she slid her dagger from her boot and shoved it between the beast's ribs. It released a long, soft sigh before it stopped breathing altogether.

Ryker sent two more crashing into each other, bashing them together so hard, one's skull split in two before it crumpled to the ground. She glanced at it long enough to see it had been a Lychen, killed mid-transformation with its wolf's muzzle protruding from a human face.

She turned back to her own fight as a dark, Mediterranean-looking man lunged at her. Instinctively, she brought her fist up and it lodged inside the man's throat. As he slumped to the ground, she jerked her hand free and stared in fascination at the sparkling orangish blood coating her hand.

“I think I just killed a Genie!”

Her momentary shock was broken as, from the corner of her eye, she saw the Dark Seer slip around one of his companions.

“Grab him!” she screamed. If they were going to let any of this coven live, the Dark Seer was their best choice. If they were lucky, he'd peek into the future and point them toward Haven, and if nothing else, he had the capacity to answer questions.

The Seer was smart, however, and braver than she'd given him credit for. As Ryker lunged to carry out her request, the Seer whipped a long sword from the pile of cloaks at his feet.

“I will die before betraying my god!” And with that, he shoved the blade into his heart and fell onto the dead Hatchling beside him.

Great.

They were down to three survivors. All of them looked nasty and incapable of speech, let alone conversation. One morphed into a human-looking male, naked and hairy from head to toe. A Shyfter.

Kyana grabbed his nape and shoved him to his knees. He smiled up at her, his yellow teeth bared, then shifted into an adder and slithered from her hold. He disappeared into the forest before she could react.

Two Dark Breed left: another Hatchling and an impure demon. A Half-Breed of some kind that didn't look as though he even possessed a tongue, his mouth nothing more than a tiny hole in his face.

Maybe the Hatchling could— Ryker twisted the Hatchling's head right off its shoulders.

“Damn it.” She thrust her dagger into the remaining Half-Breed's throat and whipped around to face Ryker. “Did you have to kill them all?”

She was so damned angry, she wanted to find something else to kill. They were no closer to finding Haven than they'd been when Artemis's snitch had tipped them off about this ceremony.