What a Goddess Wants (2 page)

And she’d never get laid again. Damn it, she’d much rather go out with a literal bang than a figurative one.

With a gasp, she broke free of the dream and sat straight up in her bed, blinking at the bright light even though it was… three o’clock in the morning, according to the clock on the bedside table.

She’d left all the lamps blazing in her bedroom. An infomercial blared from the television, and the stereo on the nightstand blasted Puccini. None of it had been able to keep her awake. Probably because she could count on both hands the number of hours she’d slept in the past three weeks.

Damn it, she needed help.

Her nose wrinkled at the thought. She, a goddess, needed help. Wasn’t that a real kick in a perfectly fine ass?

“Which won’t mean a damn thing if Charun gets hold of it,” she muttered to absolutely no one.

Hell, if she survived Charun, she needed to get out of the house so someone could see her fine ass again. Playing the hermit didn’t suit her. She’d been one of the original party girls in her day, playing all night before hurrying off to meet the lovely sun each morning.

But now she was a forgotten goddess, her main reason for being usurped by that bitch of a Roman goddess named Aurora—

She took a deep breath. No, she couldn’t think about that. Those thoughts led to teeth gnashing and sore jaws.

Still, she’d become a goddess without a true calling. What should she do with her never-ending life?

Oh, she delivered a baby or ten or twenty every year. In addition to being a sun goddess, she also helped bring new life into the world, one of the more pleasurable aspects of her life.

But that left her with a whole hell of a lot of time to fill. A girl could only do so much shopping and have so much sex before it all became so very… mundane.

She wanted to be useful again. She wanted the remaining Etruscans, those who still followed the old ways, to remember that she even existed. And she most certainly did not want to be eaten by Charun.

She needed help. And she knew just the person to help her find it.

***

“Hang tight… I’m coming. Just give me a minute.”

The voice came from the second floor as Tessa stood in the entry hall of the small townhouse in Reading, Pennsylvania.

In front of her, a stairway led along the right side of the house to the upper floors. To the left of the stairway, a hall led straight down the center of the house. To the far left, a doorway led into the front sitting room.

Every inch of the place looked like it belonged to an inner-city Brady Bunch, from the ’80s-era paisley wallpaper to the colonial blue paint on the trim. Cream carpet covered every inch of the floor, and an umbrella stood next to the small half-round table in the entry.

It all looked so normal, Tessa thought. So middle class.

Until Salvatorus began to stomp down the stairs. Then what would have seemed completely normal to any
eteri
, any nonmagical human, made a complete left turn into mythology land.

At four foot nothing, Sal had the fully developed upper body of a grown man. Wide shoulders, strong arms, nice pecs.

His face was a true marvel of his Etruscan heritage, handsome and strong. And those brown eyes, so dark they looked almost black, held a knowing warmth that always made Tessa smile.

As did the two shiny black horns sprouting from just above his forehead to peek through his glossy, black, curly hair. On any other man, those horns would have been enough to make a grown man choke on his own breath.

On Sal, well, the goat legs stole the show.

Beginning just below his belly button, those legs were covered with hide, a silky chestnut brown fur that was not a pair of pants. No, Sal had the actual legs of a goat.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said as he clomped down the stairs. “Haven’t seen you for a while. What’s up?”

His deep Noo Yawk accent made her smile grow. But her fear must have shown in her eyes because Salvatorus’s gaze narrowed.

“Are you hurt, Tessa?” He descended the rest of the steps on those small hooves so fast she worried for his safety. But he made it safely to the bottom, took her hand, and began to lead her through the house.

“No.”
Not yet, anyway.
“I’m fine.”

“Well, you let me be the judge of that.”

Salvatorus led her to the kitchen at the very back of the house and pointed her toward a seat at the small table there. He didn’t speak, not right away, but set about making her hot chocolate, the rich scent of it making her stomach rumble.

Tessa had been here many times before, mainly for parties. She did love a good party, and Salvatorus threw some of the best. But his home also served as a safe house for anyone of Etruscan descent, including those deities who needed his aid.

She’d never sought aid from Salvatorus before. Really, a goddess who needed help? It sounded ridiculous.

And yet, not so much now.

Sliding into a straight-backed wooden chair, she let her gaze wander out the window over the sink and into the courtyard in the back. The August garden burst with color and fragrance that wafted in through the open window, enticing her to draw a deep breath. Roses, herbs, perennials, bushes, and trees bloomed and thrived in Sal’s garden, no bigger than twenty feet by twenty feet.

It was beautiful, a testament to the sun’s nurturing power and Salvatorus’s skill.

Tears bit at the corners of her eyes. She tried to blink them away before they fell, but one escaped and plopped right into the mug of hot chocolate that appeared in front of her.

“All right, babe.” Salvatorus slid into the chair opposite her. “Spill. And I don’t mean tears.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Did you know Mlukukh has been missing? For more than a month.”

If she’d surprised Salvatorus with her statement about another forgotten Etruscan goddess, he showed no sign of it. “No, I hadn’t heard. But then Mel has dropped off the face of the earth for years, sometimes decades. She’s always returned.”

Tessa shook her head. “I don’t think she will this time. In fact, I’m pretty sure I know what happened to her.”

Salvatorus’s eyelids lifted. “And that is…?”

She took a deep breath before leaving it out on a sigh. “I think Charun had her snatched and taken to Aitás where he consumed her powers and left her shell to rot in the underworld.”

Now Salvatorus’s eyes narrowed. “And you know this how?”

“Because he told me. He told me that’s what he’s going to do to me as well.”

Chapter 2

Okay, maybe she should have gotten a second opinion.

Looking around her, she saw nothing but trees. Huge old pines and oaks that looked ominous in the fast-falling dusk.

Behind her, she barely saw the deer trail that passed for a lane. She’d had to leave her car almost half a mile back on that lane, afraid her little Mini Cooper would get stuck in a rut, especially when rain began to pour from the sky in sheets.

Her soaking wet clothes clung to her skin, chilling her to the bone.

Just freaking perfect.

Tessa
really
didn’t want to be here. But she had few choices left to her.

It royally pissed her off that she’d been reduced to begging for help of any kind, but especially from a man. She’d taken care of herself for as long as she could remember.

And she’d done a damn good job of it so far, if she did say so herself. Still, death was such an unappealing option.

Sal said she needed this man, Caligo, to protect her.

Grimacing, she wondered what parent would saddle their child with a name that meant “darkness” in Latin. Probably more of an affectation than a calling, if you asked her—

“Oh, Uni’s ass,” she muttered to herself. “Yes, I’m stalling. So who cares?”

Nobody, really. Except Charun. He’d be very happy if she stalled long enough for him to catch her.

So just do it.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door, which was surprisingly sturdy beneath her knuckles. She placed her hand flat on the surface and let her senses sink into the metal—and felt steel laced with iron bars and a healthy coating of magic.

Since she was in the middle of nowhere northern Berks County at an abandoned-looking shack, that combination of strength and protective magic proved she was in the right place. As did the runes worked into the graffiti covering the walls of the structure.

To anyone not of Etruscan descent—and really, what good was anyone who wasn’t—the runes would look like random lines and curves. But Tessa recognized an intricate Etruscan spell of protection alongside an ancient Egyptian curse and a Norse hex.

She was fairly sure she saw a few spells of Sumerian and Celtic origin as well, but it’d been a while since… well, better just leave it at
it’d been a while
.

“Suck it up, Tessa.” She straightened her back. “You need him.”

After another deep breath, she knocked again, this time loud enough to echo in the surrounding woods. This part of Pennsylvania still had a few dark corners, and this man had found one of the darkest.

Damn it all, was he ignoring her? Dead drunk? Or just dead? Salvatorus had told her all three were distinct possibilities.

She sighed and glanced up at the sky, gray and nearly black. It would be dark soon, and she really didn’t want to be alone and unprotected out here after the sun went down. She’d be practically powerless. A shiver ran up her spine.

Where the hell was this guy?

Pressing her ear against the door, she listened. Nothing. Not a sound except for the ping of rain off the metal roof.

Great. She’d finally decided to get help, and the man had the audacity not to be home.

A steady stream of water dripped down her back, and when she shook her head, water flew from her hair. Well, damn it, she wasn’t going to stand in the rain and wait for him.

Putting her hand on the doorknob, she felt the pulse of magic guarding the house through carefully set wards. They were such an odd mix of spells, none of which had the power to keep her out.

She was a goddess, after all.

Turning the iron knob, she pushed open the heavy door and tentatively stuck her head into the building.

Forcing a smile, she called out, “Hello. Anyone home?”

She couldn’t decide if she was relieved no one responded or frustrated. Maybe a little of both.

With a sigh, she slipped through the door, feeling the tingle of Caligo’s wards as they slid off her without effect, and closed it tightly behind her.

Surely this protector to whom Salvatorus had sent her wouldn’t be upset that she’d taken refuge in his home. She presented no threat to him. And not many men could resist her when she turned on the charm.

Moving further into the room, she noted that this future protector of hers wasn’t much of a decorator. He had a couch, a coffee table, and a cabinet holding a flat-screen TV in the front part of the house.

A kitchenette with apartment-sized appliances ran along the side of the house. The two open doors at the rear led to a bathroom and a bedroom.

She yawned, catching herself off guard, and shivered as her wet hair dripped water down her front and onto the floor. In the bathroom, she found a clean towel and dried her hair as much as she could, sighing at her reflection.

“Gods, I look like a drowned cat. I’ll probably scare the guy away.”

Although, as she looked down at herself, she knew she’d be a shoo-in to win a wet T-shirt contest. Her purple silk top conformed to each and every curve. So did her denim shorts, but they were a bit more uncomfortable at the moment.

Another yawn had her shaking her head as she moved back into the front room. Damn, she was tired.

Sinking onto the surprisingly comfortable couch, she laid her head back on the cushion. Just for a second. She couldn’t let herself fall asleep. Charun—

Her eyes closed and darkness descended.

***

Cal realized someone had gotten through his wards the second he put his hand on the doorknob of his home. He felt the disturbance in the wards like a shiver running up his spine.

Well, fuck. He didn’t need this shit.

Closing his eyes, he put his ear to the door and could just make out the rhythmic sound of breathing. Someone was sleeping in his house.

Cal shook his head. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to break through his wards and then fall asleep waiting for him to get home?

Obviously someone who didn’t know him.

Well, they were about to get up close and personal. Pulling the knife from his pants pocket, he got ready to fight.

Turning the knob a quarter inch at a time so it wouldn’t squeak, he pushed open the door. When no one started shooting at him or screaming, he stuck his head through the opening.

And spotted his very own Goldilocks passed out on his couch.