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“Just ahead you’ll see an open iron gate on a dirt road to the left. Pull in there.”
“Here we go, beautiful.” He reaches over and squeezes my fingers with determination. I return the pressure, acknowledging how desperately I need the contact, while watching him use his free hand to crank the wheel into the turn. “Guess a guycantrust an Olympian from time to time.”
I flash a quick smirk. “You know that Hecate’s an Olympian in name only, right?”
“Of course I do. She had to earn it, too. As far as goddesses go, she’s one of the hard-working ones. And as I recall, she’s as much a ballbuster as a soul protector.”
We both jostle as the truck tackles the bumps and ditches onto which we’ve turned. In another part of the world, this road would likely be labeled as a cart path. Fortunately, the big harvest moon provides extra light. The taller brush thins out as we climb a small hill. At the gently sloping crest, the path veers slightly right.
We descend and drive along the base of another foothill and then another. The terrain becomes starker, with shadows the moonlight can’t reach. But the breeze is crisp, still touched with tang from the ocean. I recognize most of the flowers and shrubs in the glare of the truck’s headlights. We’re not in a totally different dimension.
So I keep hoping.
Or maybe that’s just a way to keep my mind off the anxiety.
The mind-set that takes over anyway, gripping harder as another turn reveals lights in the distance.
“You weren’t wrong, little demon,” Maximus utters. “There really is a cabin in the woods.”
But it’s so much more than a cabin, we realize while closing in on our destination. Soon, the lights are joined by others, which illuminate a complex of buildings that look like a Mykonos villa took a detour through Taos on its way to this Southern California canyon. The buildings, though shaped like boxes, are given personality with hanging plants, colorfully painted doors, and twinkle light drapes between the rafters.
I peek in at spacious gardens and take note of a pretty creek that feeds a kidney-shaped lagoon. To one side, there’s a small farmhouse with chickens, goats, and a pair of horses outside. Looks like there might be more critters inside too. On the other side, a small slope has been planted with prospering grapevines and fruit trees.
Maximus presses his foot to the brake pedal for the first time in what seems like several miles, easing our approach. “Do I cue the theme toLittle House on the PrairieorThe Blair Witch Project?”
I want to laugh but don’t. “Wow. Both of those in the same reference. Nice work.”
“You think I’m only good for mythology quotes and Dante trivia?”
I return his tease with a gentle smack to his sizable shoulder. “What I think is that you’ll never be a boring date, Professor.”
Though he brings my fingers to his lips, his sightline doesn’t veer from its careful angle out the windshield. “A date? Is that what we’re still calling this?”
Desperately, I yearn to make him stop so I can kiss the air out of his lungs. The very oxygen he risked by diving into hell on an insane rescue mission for me. The life that he might be putting on the line once more, by driving me into the middle of nowhere to—
Where exactlyhavewe arrived? Are we in the right place at all? There are still no signs of life in the little complex near the parking space, such as it is, that Maximus guides the truck into. Only a couple of goats and chickens declare their noisy greetings before he kills the engine.
“Stay here,” he instructs. “Let me come around for you. God knows what’s out here.”
After helping me down from the cabin, he maintains his protective grip on my waist. I’m grateful, since a shiver takes over the rest of my form. I’m not sure if it’s from noticing ours is the only car parked here or because of the chilled wind that suddenly races down the ravine, but neither explanation will manifest the jacket I badly need.
I’m still dressed in nothing but a pair of Kell’s pool slides and the baggy clothes I borrowed from Maximus back at his place—cinched sweats and a T-shirt he’s affectionately nicknamed Mr. Fluffy.
But I’m feeling the opposite of fluffy right now, as the wind picks up and the hairs at my nape transform into skittish needles. Hecate made such a big deal about it being safer to travel here ahead of us, but where is she now? Where isanybody? Did we make a wrong turn? How could we have?
Just walking into this place doesn’t seem right.
“Why do I feel like we should be soaking in the rain and staring at a fifty-foot castle door?” I mutter for his ears only.
Or so I think.
“Because of all your preconceived notions?” comes the humor-tinged answer—though definitely not from Maximus.
The voice is filled with other qualities. Elements I remember so vividly from when they soothed my ears an hour ago, next to the pool in Mom’s backyard—the one a goddess materialized over, so mesmerizing in her otherworldly finery.
There’s no regalia like that now.
No more windswept gown, layers of necklaces, or star-strewn hair. Still, even my mortal side would recognize Hecate as the complete goddess that she is.
