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“The charmers,” Brass croaked out. “I remember. They were stealing souls and destroying them. Robbing children from their beds, slaughtering entire families.”
Molly stiffened at the sound of his voice, which had moved closer, but she kept her focus on the goddess in front of her.
“Yes, sentinel. But unlike in their request to Ragana, the prayers they offered to me held a different ask.” Saulé lifted her chin high. “The elders pleaded to me for their tribe’s safety, that is true, but they also begged me to watch over the souls that had gone missing from the neighboring tribes.” A sadness dimmed the vibrance in her eyes. “While it is not within my power to protect those souls which have moved on from the mortal plane, no matter how cruelly they left it, it is my sacred duty to guide the orphans and unlucky on their paths while they exist here. You, Molly, are a descendant of one whom I was asked to protect, one of the ancient tribal elders who first sought me out to watch over his people.”
A fogginess misted over Molly’s understanding, even as her heart lightened from a relieved burden that had been a vice around her soul since the day she was born. “What?”
Saulé held up a hand, urging Molly to save her questions. Golden rings adorning the goddess’s long fingers winked beneath the stadium’s solar lighting. “There is one more thing. You have more in common with the elder you are descended from, Valdis, than you realize. Because of Valdis’s desire to help his people, I gifted him and his bloodline with the power of empathic siphoning. Not merely the ability to feel what others feel but to take it within yourself and use that source of energy for good. Valdis chose to use his skills to temper the fears of his tribe and direct their energy into the growth of crops, felling wood for lumber, and calling the sea to him with favorable waves so his people could fish and travel. Over the centuries, however, the power had grown mild and mostly dormant in Valdis’s descendants, as tribes thinned and larger cities formed. That is, until you bonded with your angel.”
Molly hardly had time to dwell on the fact that she had magic—real magic!—before she was forced to reexamine her fresh hurt. “As unbelievable as all this is, what does the soul bond have to do with it?”
In the corner of her eye, Brass stiffened. He hadn’t missed that she didn’t refer to him by name.
Saulé cast a forlorn glance in the area behind Molly where she knew Brass to be. “Your magic sought out your soul bond because the emotions you would share in coming together would be enough of an empathic event to awaken your full magic. Much, I gather, in the same way your angel came into his full celestial power.”
“I’m right here,” Brass ground out. “You can talk to me.”
“I’d rather not, sentinel.” The look Saulé cast him was enough to wither a thousand-year-old redwood. “It was only through your combined powers that Ragana was destroyed. Goddesses, I assure you, are not easy to kill.” The threat lingered in the air, turning their breaths icier. “It is only through my protection of Molly, and my power passed down to her, that she was able to break your curse. Soul bond or no, that does not entitle you to betray her trust.”
Pinpricks stabbed at Molly’s eyes at the sharp reminder of what he’d done and the mess between them that was not so easily swept away.
Through her blurry lashes, Molly could just make out the golden straps of Saulé’s sandals crisscrossing the goddess’s feet. Then under the insistent force of a slender finger beneath her chin, Molly met the goddess’s face. The contact was what Molly imagined it would feel like to touch a star . . . without the whole burning to a crisp bit. Latent humming energy, the kind that gave succor to every plant and planet, flowed from the contact point, drying her tears instantly.
“Hear me, Molly Resnick. You were not born under a bad star, as you have always feared. Quite the opposite, in fact,” Saulé said with a smirk.
You have to love a goddess with cheek.
“You are a creature of the sun like Valdis, and your power comes from those you feed. If you ever doubt yourself again, look to the sun and know you will always find your path. I suspect, in many ways, a part of you has always been drawn to the sun, hmm?”
Molly thought back to all her solar trinkets. Key chains, paintings, things she’d never made a connection with until now. All this time . . . Had she subconsciously known this about herself all along?
A soft snort rumbled at her elbow. “Well, don’t look directly at the sun. That’s a recipe for retinal incineration. Totally not worth it.” Bronze laughed at his joke, but all Molly heard was several male groans and a muttered, “Fucking idiot,” that she hoped had escaped Saulé’s notice.
It hadn’t.
The goddess turned her attention to Bronze. “One word, sentinel, before I depart.” A sly smile curved her lips. “Not all curses are created equal. Some require more skill than luck to defeat them. One day soon, you shall meet a woman to challenge you in this regard.”
At that, his eyes lit up. “A woman, eh?”
“Yes. I wish you luck. Lycans are so very fond of their games.”
If Molly had a pin, she would have run back over to the bleachers and dropped it just to confirm everyone would have heard it as it clacked onto the metal bench in an eerily silent stadium.
All levity left Bronze’s face. “What?”
A final blaze of light illuminated the field. Molly and the others all threw up their arms to shield their eyes. By the time she risked a glance, Saulé was gone.
Don’t go.
Molly wasn't sure whether her silent plea was born of a daughter who’d just found her true family or from a woman who wasn’t prepared to face what was currently lumbering up to her from behind.
“Molly,” Brass cried. “I can explain everything.”
I can explain everything. . .
Were there ever four words in the English language that were more symbolic of guilt? Entire talk show episodes had been programmed and cast around the I can explain everything setup. The admission of guilt and subsequent groveling were instant ratings fodder.
Well, she wasn’t in the mood to be someone’s entertainment. Or their regret.
