Chosen (20 page)

Chapter Thirty-three

C
ronos was gone.

Ryker watched the flames lick at the god's head, the stench of burning flesh filling the throne room like a visible fog. Cronos's body fell limp to the floor; the only sound in the room became that of the heavy breathing of the survivors.

Triumphant and so proud of Kyana he could burst, he spun to face her, to lift her into his arms and hold her forever.

She was on the floor.

And she wasn't moving.

He ran to her. In the rush of excitement he'd allowed himself to forget what she'd risked to save them all. Now her cold body lay lifeless. He scooped her into his arms, closed his eyes, and let out a guttural roar of agony that tore at his soul.

His legs wouldn't hold him. He crashed back to the floor, holding Ky close to his chest to keep her safe as he toppled onto his ass and cradled her in his lap.

He felt Haven beside him, heard her scream, cry, be consoled by Silas.

“Aceso!” His bellow for the Goddess of Healing was answered immediately. She knelt beside him, though Ryker couldn't see her face through the hot, burning tears blinding him. “Save her,” he whispered, his voice ragged and breathless.

“I—I can't.”

Ryker nearly released Kyana as the need to reach out and throttle the goddess undid him. Everything inside his body was screaming. Kyana had just destroyed pure evil. She should be laughing with pride and relief. She should be kissing him, telling him that she loved him as she'd hinted at before. Finally, he'd gotten what he'd wanted from her and she was leaving him.

“Save her!” he roared, understanding in that moment the agony Kyana must have felt when she'd held Haven this way, when she'd turned her best friend in order to save her life. Anything was better than losing someone who meant so much . . . anything.

Fumbling for the staff that had rolled slightly out of reach in his fall, he seized it and slipped the tip across his wrist, feeling the warm blood ooze from his veins. This had healed her before. It had to work!

He pressed his bleeding wrist to her lips, willing her to drink. Her mouth didn't open. He forced it to. There was no hot breath to warm his arm. No slight suckle to let him know she tasted his blood.

“The blood of a god will not heal another, son.” Ares placed his hand on Ryker's shoulder and Ryker couldn't bring himself to shrug it off.

Without looking up, he whispered, “I've never asked you for anything as my father. Please. Save her.”

He felt Ares's hand squeeze his shoulder, heard the deep intake of his breath. “I wish I could.”

“She's still alive,” Haven said, pressing her cheek to Kyana's forehead. “She is still my Sire, and I still have that link to her. She's still alive. It's not too late.”

Kyana wasn't breathing. Or was she? He lowered his face until his lips touched hers. There. The faintest trace of warmth coming from her nostrils, caressing the tip of his nose in one last whisper of life.

He looked to Aceso. “Can you perform a siphoning? A switch?”

The goddess shook her head. “You must use a healing Witch or Mystic.”

“Then bring me one!” he demanded, his resolve returning as he readjusted her in his arms.

“They've all been taken to Poseidon's realm,” Silas said, his eyes damp and red as he helped Haven to her feet.

“What do you need?” Haven jerked away from Silas and crouched beside Ryker again. “Whatever you need a Healer for, I might be able to do.” She touched his arm, looking as though she might completely fall apart at any moment. He knew how she felt. “Please. I've already lost part of my family today. I can't lose more. Tell me.”

“Siphon Geoffrey's blood from her.”

Silas moved to stand in front of them. “That process takes far too long to do any goo—”

“Shut up,” Ryker snapped, his gaze focused on Haven. “Can you do it?”

He could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't sure, but she said only, “Give her to me.”

She ordered Silas to bring her a vial and commanded the crowd to vacate the hall to give them room. The chaos of footsteps pounding toward the door was drowned out by the sound of Ryker's heartbeat. Unsteady. Off rhythm. But slowly coming back to life as hope filled him.

But he wasn't letting go of Kyana for anything. “I'll hold her. Do what you have to do.”

Haven nodded, slipping a dagger from her belt. “It's not sterile but it's all I have.”

“She's a goddess,” Ryker said. “Infection isn't an issue.”

But time was. If Silas didn't hurry the hell up, it would be too late. He glanced up to see Silas picking up the empty bottle that had once held Geoffrey's power. Ryker snatched it from him and handed it to Haven.

She didn't take it. “Hold it to her wrist. Collect every bit of energy you see spill from her. I can't guarantee it will all be . . . G-Geoffrey's.” She sobbed, gathered herself, her voice shaky. “Some of Artemis's could—”

“Do it!”

She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip as she took Kyana's hand and laid it carefully in her lap. Then she leaned over Kyana's body and whispered just loud enough that Ryker could hear. “You have to
choose
this, Kyana. Choose to live. For us. Please.”

Then she slit a vertical cut over Kyana's wrist, spilling blood onto her jeans. “When I speak the words, the energy should start flowing with the blood. Are you ready?”

He gave a curt nod and clenched his teeth.

She took a deep breath.

Virtutem non pertinent

ad vos, ut vos deserat. Vires intrinsecus fueris tu,

qui te defendere May esvilis futures.

Kyana's body spasmed. Ryker gripped her arms to keep her steady as Haven dug the dagger deeper into her arm. She repeated the words three more times, and Kyana's body bucked a foot off his lap.

“The energy! Silas, take the bottle from Ryker. He's going to need his hands to hold her now!” Haven commanded.

Silas was on the floor beside them in an instant. He snatched the bottle, sliding it beneath the wound just as the first crack of blue light shone through the broken flesh.

The slight rise and fall of Kyana's chest slowed. The long, low sigh she emitted sounded so close to a death rattle that it caused them to pause and glance at one another before returning their gazes to Kyana.

“She isn't strong enough for this!” Silas moved the container like a game piece, hurrying to catch each ray of light as it escaped. “No one can transfer this fast, Haven! It took Poseidon a full day to give me his—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Ryker roared. He glanced at Haven. “Keep going.”

Maybe Kyana wasn't strong enough for this, but if anyone was, it was Ky. And without it, there was no chance of her survival. This was the only way.

More blue light flitted out like lightning bugs, only to be snatched by Silas as they drifted upward. Then it was like a dam inside Kyana burst. A flood of energy fled the wound, pouring onto the floor and into the air like water and dust and tiny flames.

Silas moved quickly, catching those in the air, then scooping those on the floor, then repeating. The bottle was half full . . . just a few minutes longer.

Haven repeated the foreign words over and over, and though he no longer had Witch power inside him, Silas spoke them with her. Ryker tried, but his mouth wouldn't work. He was numb to everything—except to the hope that they could save Kyana.

“It's done,” Haven whispered.

Ryker turned his gaze to the full bottle of blue liquid in Silas's hands, then to Kyana's lifeless face.

She didn't look any more alive than she had when they'd started.

“How do we know . . .”

His voice trailed off as a soft movement under his forearm stole his breath.

Kyana's chest was expanding. Retracting. Expanding.

She was alive.

Chapter Thirty-four

C
ries of pain and anger and sorrow and joy greeted Kyana as the black void slowly released her. She couldn't move, couldn't steady her double vision to take in what was left of Ryker's throne room, couldn't determine who was left standing and who'd given their lives so that they all had a chance to live.

Thoughts of those who'd fallen had her fuzzy gaze settling on the soot and ash that had once been Cronos . . .

It took her a minute to realize she was being held so tightly that the possibility of strangulation wasn't out of the question. It took her a longer moment to remember that she was supposed to be dead.

Pressing away from the imprisoning arms around her as much as her weakened body would allow, she found herself looking into two very blue, very damp eyes.

Ryker.

“Am I dead?” she whispered.

He cupped her face and kissed her so softly, but with such desperation, there was no doubt that she was very much alive. “Haven saved your life.”

A half hiccup, half sob sounded from beside them. Kyana turned her head to find Haven blubbering like a fool, her cheeks and nose puffy and red. “It was . . . his idea.”

Hiccup
.

“Hey, I caught the shit. Wasn't easy either. More like a pinball game from hell.” Silas's voice sounded deeper than usual, as though he too was choking on some emotion or another.

“You're all sappy . . . was I that close to death?”

All three nodded. A wave of nausea crept up Kyana's stomach. Whether it was the aftermath of her ordeal or sickness at the thought of how close she'd come to death, she wasn't sure.

“Thank you,” she whispered, desperate not to turn as teary as the trio around her. “We won . . . right?”

For all she knew, Cronos had escaped and that pile of ashes belonged to someone else.

“Yeah,” Ryker said, smiling down at her. “We won.”

“Some of us anyway,” Haven whispered.

Kyana's heart gave a painful tug and her fight not to get teary was lost. “I'm sorry, Haven.”

The loss of Artemis and Geoffrey was going to stay with her for a long time, but Kyana couldn't imagine being in Haven's shoes, losing someone who held so much of her heart and yet had never had a chance to see where it could have gone.

She wasn't going to make that mistake with Ryker.

Haven gave Kyana's hand a squeeze and she pulled herself to her feet. “Where is he? I . . . I need to say good-bye.”

Ryker told her, and as she stepped away, he looked at Silas. “Go with her. She shouldn't be alone.”

Kyana stopped him. “She needs to be. Let her go.”

Haven glanced back at her with a thankful smile, then cast her gaze toward Ryker. “You should prepare her in case . . .”

“In case what? Prepare me for what?” Kyana's head was aching like a bitch and her wrist was on fire, but the concerned expression on Haven's face was like a psychic painkiller. “Oh gods . . . did someone turn me to save me? What the hell am I now?”

Ryker smiled and Haven vanished up the stairs to mourn in private. He glanced at Silas and ordered him from the room.

When he was gone, Ryker kissed her, holding her close enough to smother her again. “Really Ryker,” she insisted. “I'm fine. Or I will be, anyway.”

There were people now gone from her life that she'd miss forever, but she was definitely going to be fine. She couldn't believe their struggle with Cronos was finally over. That they'd finally won.

He released her slightly, letting her breathe freely again. “So what are you supposed to tell me?”

He sighed and buried his head in her hair. “There's a slight chance that Artemis's powers left you when we drained Geoff's from your blood.”

An ugly pit filled her stomach. “So I could have no powers at all?”

He leaned back, scrutinizing her.

“You might. You might not. Not sure this has ever been done before.”

“What?” she asked, realizing he was waiting for her to throw a fit, and on top of that, realizing she didn't want to. A few weeks ago, power had meant everything to her. Now the thought of losing everything she'd gained meant little to nothing. She'd lost people she'd loved, but she'd taken on the biggest, baddest evil to come along in ages. The people in her life didn't care about her because of what she was—they'd care regardless of whether she was the most powerful or the least.

Even Ryker.

All the work she'd done to convince herself that his feelings for her were growing because she was no longer a Dark Breed vanished. He knew there was the possibility that she could revert to what she'd been . . . and yet he was still looking at her with love in his eyes.

She touched his cheek. “Whatever happens, happens. What I am has nothing to do with
who
I am.”

He smiled, kissed her cheek. “And who are you, then, Kyana?”

“A woman who might not be afraid to admit she's in love with a man.”

“Might not?”

“Definitely not. I love you. And if you break my heart, I'll kill you.”

His smile widened. “Deal.”

When he kissed her, she used the last of her energy to show him how much she truly did love him, willing him to grasp that she was letting go of the notions she'd lived with forever—that she wasn't meant to be with one man and find happiness like everyone else.

The realization that she did deserve those things made her feel more powerful than she'd ever felt in her life.

K
yana slept until sunrise, her body aching even in sleep. She woke to the feel of a soft hand on her cheek and opened her eyes to find herself in her own bed, Haven staring sadly down at her.

“Hi,” Haven whispered.

She looked like hell.

“You all right?”

Haven nodded, then shook her head. “I should have told him what he meant to me.”

“He knew.”

“Did he?” She raked her hair away from her blotchy face and shook her head. “Tell them I'm ready for my sentencing. Right now. So much . . .” She sobbed. “. . . has happened to me. I don't like this world anymore, Kyana.”

“Bullshit.” Kyana had spent every minute of every damned day for the last few months trying to keep Haven alive. She wasn't going to let her friend give up now.

She sat up, feeling as though she'd been run over by a freight train. “The Haven I know loves this world more than anyone. If you give up now . . . if you let them sentence you without even fighting, Geoff will have died for nothing. He wasn't fighting for the world today, Haven. For him, saving the world just meant saving
you
.”

Haven had been through the worst time of her life. It could only get better from here. But Kyana knew well the agony of grief, and it would take more than a few meaningless words to make her better.

“He loved you,” Kyana whispered, hoping those words weren't so meaningless.

Haven nodded. “I know.”

Haven fiddled with the whistle dangling from Kyana's neck and took a deep breath. “So . . . ready to see how much of you I took out?”

Kyana smiled. “You didn't take out any of me. You took out bits that were on loan.”

Haven gave the whistle a tug. “Yeah, well, let's just see who's still in there.”

Willing to play along, even though a part of her was terrified to see how empty of powers she might really be now, Kyana nodded. “How?”

“The dogs will only answer to their goddess. If she's still in you, they'll obey and come out. If she's not, then . . . nothing.”

Since she was too weak to try any of the other daunting powers, Kyana pulled the chain from around her neck and gave the whistle a blow. Would she truly be as okay with reverting back to her old self as she'd bragged to Ryker?

The smile in Haven's eyes held the answer.

Yes. She would be. Life wouldn't change so long as the people in it remained. And now that she knew the heartbreak of losing loved ones again, she wasn't going to lose any more.

She would be fine, no matter what . . .

The whistle glowed, breaking through her thoughts and calming her erratic pulse. Then she was buried under the weight of three enormous puppies, covering her in puppy drool and dog hair.

“I knew it,” Haven whispered. “The Goddess of the Hunt is still in there.”

Relief swelled within Kyana and she laughed. “Oh? How did you know?”

“The spell I used to siphon the blood from you . . . it roughly translates to ‘The power that does not belong to you, may it leave you now. May the strength within you protect you as you become who you were meant to be.' You were meant to be Artemis, Kyana. It was never supposed to be me.”

Kyana lay back on her pillow, her body lightened as the burden of guilt lifted from her soul. The gaze staring down at her held no anger over the fact that Kyana had become what Haven had been meant to be. Kyana could finally embrace all that being the Goddess of the Hunt entailed. Every last bit of it.

Even the nasty fertility bits.

“Will we ever be as we were before all this?” she asked.

Haven's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “I don't know. One way or another, we won't be together anymore. Either I'm going to be sent to Tartarus after my trial, or I'll return Above. You'll be here.”

“I could have a portal put into the house and one put here, in my room,” Kyana said, only half joking. “I could go back and forth whenever . . .”

Haven chuckled. “You have a life here, Kyana. And I . . . well, I have to figure out if I have one anywhere.” Her eyes closed, and she let out her breath in a long string of whoosh. “Have my sentencing hurried along, will you? I . . . Kyana, I desperately need to move on.”

And with that, Haven strode from the room and closed the door quietly behind her.