How to Worship a Goddess (20 page)

As
bizarre
as
what
the
little
goat
man
is
about
to
do
to
you, right?

Exactly.

“You can still back out, you know?” Sal's voice had dropped to a level Brand shouldn't have been able to hear if he'd been completely human. All his life, he'd just thought he had exceptional hearing and a sense of smell to rival a dog's.

Or a bear's.

Jesus, what if he really was a
berserkir
?

“No, I can't. I have to do this. I… don't want to lose her.”

Sal flashed him a wide grin around his still-smoking cigar. “I knew I liked you, kid.”

Brand just shook his head and watched the sway of Lucy's denim-covered ass in front of him. So fucking beautiful. That gorgeous dark hair with its strands of pure silver threaded through it. A woman's lush body.

But he loved her strong personality just as much. He loved that she seemed to be completely head-over-heels for him. That she was willing to go through all this for him.

And who wouldn't love a woman who loved hockey as much as she did?

After a few more silent minutes, they stepped into a clearing. Brand swore the temperature rose from almost freezing back in the village to a nearly balmy forty degrees or so here. Weird. But not as weird as the beautifully carved wooden table at the far end of the clearing. And the musical waterfall spilling down the outcropping of rock to the table's right.

Okay, maybe weird wasn't the right world. Magical. Yeah, magical fit. Hell, he'd never been one for fairy tales. Give him a good gritty mystery any day. Still, there was something so freaking peaceful about this place, it felt like one huge tranquilizer.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing, the warmer air heating his skin, the sound of the waterfall soothing his rough edges.

“Brandon?”

Lucy's voice held a tremble he might have missed had he not turned to look at her. Damn it, he hated that he made this strong woman worry. She stared at him with wide eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth so she wouldn't say anything, even though he knew she wanted to. She wanted him to say he wasn't going through with this.

Not
gonna
happen, babe.

He grabbed the fleece sweatshirt he was wearing and pulled it over his head, followed by his T-shirt. The cooler air brushed up against him, making his nipples hard.

The temperature wasn't unbearable. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said he could withstand subzero temperatures. He'd been a Polar Bear swimmer—

He started to laugh, letting his head fall back as the sound ricocheted off the surrounding trees. He knew they were all staring at him like he'd gone made and he just didn't care. The situation was wild, too crazy to be believed, so why not laugh? Damn it, he fucking deserved it.

“So, puckhead,” Sal practically growled at him, “you wanna tell the class what's so funny?”

He took a deep breath but couldn't completely stop his laughter. “When I was a kid, I was part of the Polar Bear Club. We used to ring in the New Year with a midnight swim in the lake. It gets pretty damn cold in Maine in the winter, you know.”

Then he couldn't help it. He kept laughing. A second later, Sal joined in, his braying howl of amusement setting off Catene. The only one not laughing was Lucy. She just shook her head. He walked over to her and almost had himself under control when he got there.

“You know you're allowed to laugh, right? And it is kinda funny.”

He had a brief moment to wonder if his parents had appreciated the irony as well. He'd have to ask them sometime. And that was a phone call he
really
wasn't looking forward to making.

Sighing, Lucy raised her arms and placed them around his neck, drawing him down for a kiss. The second his lips met hers, all thoughts of polar bears fled and he only thought of her. The taste of her lips, the warmth of her body.

He didn't try to make the kiss anything it wasn't, but she almost drowned him with the force of it. Heat and worry and sweet emotion infused her kiss.

When she finally left him up for air, he realized he'd pulled her against him and had a decent hard-on going. Exactly
not
what he needed right now.

“Let's just get through this, okay, babe?”

He heard a strangled cough behind him and turned to see Sal patting Cat on the back as she stared at him with wide eyes.

Brand frowned at the girl. “What?”

She blinked at him, all innocent and sweet and totally faking it, if the amusement in her eyes was any indication. “Nothing. Not a thing. Why do you think anything's wrong?”

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “Let's get this over with, Brandon. We need to finish before the moon sets. I need all the power I can get.”

“Come on over here, big guy.” Sal patted that wooden table. “Take off your clothes and lie on your back. And don't worry, dude. You're not my type.”

Sal's attempt at lightening the mood put a smile on Brand's face but couldn't lift the sudden weight on his chest as he shed the rest of his clothes and pulled himself up onto the table.

Cat had turned her back while he'd gotten naked and Sal gave him what looked like a velvet table runner to cover his privates. At least he hoped that was what it was for.

He didn't want to be totally naked in front of the teenager. That was asking a little much. He didn't have many reservations about shedding his clothes in company, but he knew as soon as he'd dropped his pants, everybody had been able to tell how freaked he was because his cock and balls had tried to crawl back into his body.

He should've been embarrassed but he figured that was the least of his problems. Sure, he could blame it on the temperature, but they all knew why he'd shriveled. He was starting to get freaked out. And that was unacceptable. He straightened his back and nodded to Sal.

“Alright, son. Lie on your back and put the cloth over your—yeah, that's right.”

The wood had been polished until it felt almost like glass against his back. Really cold glass that warmed in seconds. Almost like someone had turned on a heater.

As he shifted around, arms at his sides as he tried to relax, Lucy walked to stand at his head, Sal at his left and Cat on his right.

Cat had removed her heavy fleece jacket and stood next to him in a plain white long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. She smiled down at him as she rested one hand on his arm while pressing something into his hand.

He lifted his hand and smiled at the four small charms dangling from a ribbon. “What's this?”

“I made you a cimaruta charm,” Cat said. “It's for good luck.”

He took a closer look at the charms—a tiny dagger, a small flower, a crescent moon and a skeleton key.

“Guess I need all the luck I can get, huh? Thanks, sweetheart. And when this is over, you'll have to explain it all to me,” he said.

Cat nodded as she laid both hands on his arms then looked at Lucy before training those blue eyes on Sal.

Cat had a laser-sharp focus that belied her age. Then again, Brand didn't have much contact with teenage werewolves, so maybe they were all this smart.

Above him, Lucy produced the knife he'd seen in Sal's hand not that long ago. She started to chant in a language he didn't understand but sounded an awful lot like the songs she'd been singing the other night. He was guessing ancient Etruscan. Absolutely beautiful.

The sound of her voice eased some of his tension and his shoulders eased down. He took a deep breath, staring up at the knife she held in her palms just above his head. Almost mesmerized by the razor-thin edge.

Cat joined in after a while, her words different, like she was answering or responding to whatever Lucy was saying.

The little goat man was still smoking a cigar, but the scent had changed. It smelled almost like grass. Not marijuana, but the clean, fresh scent of new-mown grass. He was half goat, after all.

Their voices meshed into an almost drugging symphony of sound… and where the hell did he come up with that?

Holy shit, this must be what falling under a spell felt like. Kinda like being high, which he vaguely remembered from his reckless twenties. But without the munchies.

He felt like he was floating, even though he still felt the wood beneath his back.

After at least a minute, their voices stopped. He opened his eyes, hadn't realized he'd closed them. Above him, stars shattered the dark blue velvet sky.

Shit, he must have been out for more than a minute. Or night fell much, much faster out here.

Above him, Lucy passed the knife to Sal, who looked a hell of a lot taller at the moment. Still had his little horns though. For some reason, that grounded him.

Sal caught and held his gaze. “Last chance, man. Say no and—”

“Just do it.”

Sal nodded and plunged the dagger straight into his chest.

Chapter 7

Lucy held her breath as the blade slid cleanly through Brandon's body until the hilt touched his skin and she knew the point had lodged into the wood beneath him.

Brandon went deadly still. With his eyes closed, he looked like a mounted butterfly.

In her head, she knew he was unharmed. But her heart beat like a trapped bird and her stomach roiled.

And even though she knew they wouldn't answer, she began a silent prayer to the
Involuti
. The founding gods of the Etruscans had deserted their children years ago, but she couldn't help herself. She needed to do something more.

Reaching for Catene's hand, Lucy drew on the girl's pure well of power, calling up the very essence that tied them together, the essence that made Catene the only person who could've provided Lucy with this much energy.

Soon, the day would come. But not yet…

Now, Lucy had to concentrate. Sal needed her strength and the power she channeled through Cat to help him.

With her free hand, she grabbed Sal's and let the power flow through her, completing the connection with Sal.

Immediately she felt Sal begin to pull the power out of her and pour it into Brandon.

Brandon's muscles began to twitch, his body jerking as if Sal had shocked him. The ancient iron blade, blessed by Nortia, the Goddess of Fate, made contact with the solid wood through Brandon's body and allowed Sal to make that connection with Brandon.

Sal used her magic, boosted by Catene's, to seek out what might be hidden.

Dragging her gaze away from Brandon, she watched Sal as he searched Brandon in the most intimate way. Through his blood.

Sal had closed his eyes, using his free hand to grasp the handle of the blade and filter the images passing through the iron and into his head.

Through her connection to Sal, she saw bits and pieces of Brandon's life—family, friends, girlfriends, and hockey. Always hockey. From the first moment his parents put him on skates to his first win in high school to his first professional game.

His love for the sport never wavered, nor did his love for his family and friends. She caught glimpses of his parents, his sisters. He took after his father…

The images cut off as Sal began to focus deeper, looking for ancestral memories carried in the DNA.

Something that would give a clue—

A blast of power blew through Sal with no warning, throwing him away from the altar, away from Brandon.

“No!” Lucy cried out, ripping her hand from Catene's and reaching for the blade. She wrapped her hand around the hilt, ready to yank it out but the blade was stuck, as if some force held it in place.

“Catene!”

The girl had fallen to the ground when Lucy had broken contact, her eyes closed, her face so pale in the moonlight.

“Catene! Oh Gods. Wake up. Sal, I need you. I command you! Get up.”

From behind her, Sal groaned. Catene stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she made an attempt to climb to her feet.

“What hap—”

“Catene, run and get Dane. Now.”

Catene's eyes widened as she finally stood. “Holy crap. What happened?”

“I'm not sure. I can't remove the blade. We need to get the blade out.”

“I'll go get Dane.”

Dane. Yes, the
Lucani
doctor. “Go. Get him now. Hurry.”

Catene called her wolf in a furious blaze of magic that tugged at Lucy's power. Catene's clothes disintegrated around her as she transformed her body. In seconds, the wolf had replaced the girl and she tore back down the path toward the village.

Damn
it. Godsdamnit, this shouldn't be happening.

Fear like she hadn't felt in centuries grabbed her lungs in both hands and squeezed like a vise. Her hands, slippery with sweat, clenched into fists at her sides. She hated feeling so helpless. It made frustration pound through her body. What the hell had happened?

“Whoa, what the he— What am I doing on the— Oh
shit
.”

Sal leaped to his hooves, wobbled a bit, then fell against Lucy's hip before he grabbed for the altar to steady himself.

“I don't know what to do, Sal. He's not moving and I can't remove the knife—”

“Hell no, don't take out the blade. Son-of-a-
bitch
.” Sal's voice had dropped to a dangerous growl and he hopped back onto the rock he'd been standing on for the ritual. “We broke the fucking spell concealing his powers. Someone—”

“Explanations later, Sal. We have to get the knife out of his chest. I won't lose him. Not like this. Catene went for Dane but I don't think… We need to take out the knife…”

“No. The knife stays. If we pull it out, we may damage him further. Amity.” Sal stepped away from the table. “I'll get Amity.”

Sal disappeared without another word, leaving Lucy alone in the dark and the cold with Brandon.

He continued to breathe, but just barely.

“Hold on, sweetheart. You have to hold on. I won't lose you. Not now.”

She forced herself to speak calmly, as if he could hear her. Inside, she raged at her own arrogance and her failings.

At one time she would've had the power to help him. Even though she was a moon goddess and not a healer, she would've had the strength to hold him here until help arrived.

Now, even though she felt the power of the moon drawing her, calling to her, she couldn't harness enough of it to fix him.

Useless. She was useless and obsolete and—

No, you know what? Fuck that. Heated anger roiled in her gut. Fuck the thought that she was helpless. She was still a goddess. There had to be something she could do. But what?

“Lucy.”

Brandon's eyes flickered open as he whispered her name.

“Brandon.” She infused her voice with a calm she didn't feel. “Don't move. Please.”

“Wha…” He turned his head to look at her, the dullness of his eyes visible even in the dark. “Well, no shit. Sal stuck me.”

“Shh.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his forehead. She refused to let the feel of his cold skin against hers shake her faith that he would survive. “I forbid you to move.”

“I like it when you order me around.” His mouth curved and she let herself fall into that smile. “Guess we got a problem, huh?”

“You're going to be fine, sweetheart.” She refused to think anything else. She said it so it would be true. “Just don't move.”

He tried to laugh. “Guess I'm not the man you need me to be, huh?”

“Brandon, you're more of a man than most gods.”

He snorted, then winced in pain. “But gods don't die from a little knife wound.”

“You're not dying. I won't let you.”

“And there's the Lucy I know and love. There now, let me see what's going on.”

Lucy nearly collapsed in relief as her sister goddess Amity bustled over to the altar, Sal directly behind her.

“Amity, please…”

“Oh, now, don't sound so worried. It's not as dire as all that, is it?” Amity flashed a bright smile. “Let me see.”

Lucy reluctantly drew away from the altar so Amity could see.

Just the sight of her sister goddess's short, rounded little body was almost enough to make Lucy's spirits lift.

As Munthukh, the Etruscan Goddess of Health, Amity knew the secrets of the human body. At the height of their reign, she could cure cancer or heal deadly injuries with the wave of a hand.

But like all of the Forgotten Goddesses, she'd faded. Today, she channeled her remaining powers into her work as a medical aesthetician at the local hospital, helping accident victims deal with crippling disfigurement and cancer victims with the loss of limbs, hair, and breasts.

“Oh dear, that is a problem, isn't it?” Amity patted Brandon on the shoulder, his eyes barely slits at the moment as he watched her. “But don't worry, sweetie, we'll have you fixed up in no time. I'm Amity, by the way. And you are…?”

“Brandon Stevenson. Nice to—”

He broke off, as if unable to draw in enough air to finish, and Lucy's heart seized in her chest.

“And it's very nice to meet you too. I understand you're a hockey player. I very much enjoy hockey…”

Lucy listened to Amity hold a one-way conversation as she stood next to Brandon, her hands on his shoulders.

Amity's voice worked not only on Brandon. Lucy felt a cool serenity pass through her as well. She wanted to scream at Amity. Why would she not shut up and just heal him?

She was about to open her mouth when Sal grabbed her hand and squeezed. Hard. A warning, but why—oh. Amity
was
working.

Lucy looked at Amity's hands, glowing white against Brandon's pale skin. She'd placed her hands on either side of the blade. Still, she couldn't let herself hope. It would hurt too badly…

“No, Lucy.” Amity's voice curled around her heart, loosening the dread. “I need you here with me. And so does Brandon. Put your hand over mine. Yes. See, he's getting better already.”

Amity's voice had lowered to a croon, as if she were speaking to a frightened child. Though she knew she should be spitting mad at being treated like that, Lucy couldn't help but notice it was working.

Her heart rate began to level off, the weight on her chest eased, and her muscles loosened to the point where she could move without feeling like she would break.

“I think that'll do it. Sal, let's get that knife out now.” Amity's voice cut off her thoughts and Lucy drew in a sharp gasp as Sal nodded and drew the blade out cleanly.

No blood. Not on the knife or Brandon's chest. Lucy turned to ask Amity what had happened and was just in time to catch the other goddess before she fell to the ground.

“Amity!”

The other woman drew in a shuddering breath, her body continuing to shake. “I'm sorry, Lucy. I didn't mean to scare you. He'll be fine. Tell Dane…” Her dark eyes closed for a second and Lucy feared Amity had done too much. “Tell Dane to keep him calm and quiet for several hours and then he'll be as good as new.”

“Are you okay?”

Amity's smile was brief but visible. “I'll be fine. Just need… a few minutes to rest.”

Then her eyes closed and her body went limp.

Lucy felt tears well as the voices drew nearer, and bright beams of light slashed through the forest. Flashlights.

So much harsher than her beloved moonlight.

“Lady, let me have Amity.”

Tinia's teat, this was all her fault. She should've told Brandon no. Should've put a stop to this before she nearly killed him and possibly injured Amity irreparably.

“Lucy, come on,” Sal said. “Dane and Cat will be here in seconds and you don't want them to see you on the ground like this. Get up.”

No, it wouldn't do to have her wolves see her like this, would it? Defeated. Even if it were true.

All
her
fault.

“Now, Luce, if you wanna blame anyone, blame me.” Sal had taken Amity from her arms and held the other goddess against his sturdy body. “But do it later because they're here.”

Turning, she saw Catene fly up the path, dressed in sweats and running sneakers. The
lucani
doctor, Dane, followed right behind her, as did three or four others. She lost count because Dane began to ask questions.

The next few minutes swirled into a haze of demands and shouted orders as Dane examined Brandon and prepared him to be moved back to the den.

Someone had had the foresight to bring a stretcher and Lucy watched carefully as four
lucani
transferred him to it.

“Mom.” Ty suddenly stood beside her, his hand on her elbow. She didn't know if he'd been there the entire time or if he'd just shown up. How could she not have known?

“Mom, let's go. Dane said Brandon's going to be fine but he wants to get him out of the cold air.”

She stared up at Ty's beloved face. “Is Catene okay?”

A brief flash of fear in his eyes made her tense but it disappeared almost immediately. “Yeah, she's fine. But she's worried about you. And so am I. Don't make me carry you back.”

No, that wouldn't do, would it? She had to be strong. Especially for what she knew she had to do when Brandon woke.

She straightened her back and forced every last shred of emotion into a tiny little box in her chest. “Then let's go.”