Bedeviled - Sable Grace Page 0,1

have most of Artemis’s powers, the little she did have made her old pacing look like . . . well, it was like trying to compare a wild Mustang to a sleek, gorgeous black Arabian. Both got you where you wanted to go quickly, but the Arabian got you there in style.

“Ky? You ready? We’ll have to take them by surprise.”

Ryker looked so incredibly yummy in his camos, it was difficult to concentrate. Wind-tousled blond hair fell over his silver eyes, casting a shadow across his well-sculpted profile making him look more like a statue of his father, Ares, than the half human he was.

This was only a scouting mission, an exercise to practice the few skills Kyana had inherited from Artemis. And she was loving every minute of it. Being allowed off Olympus for the first time in days was like being let out of a cage. Flying off with Ryker, whom she was coming to like more than she should, was just icing on the cake. That he was wearing those yummy camos was the creamy filling.

Ryker’s expression of concentration was broken by the tiny smile teasing the corner of his full lips, the small fangs bestowed on all demigods glistening in the moonlight. He obviously knew what she was thinking, knew she was probably remembering what he looked like out of those camos, but he was gentleman enough not to mention it. Instead, he pointed to the meeting they’d come to intercept. She studied the clearing as he spoke instructions into her ear, though in all honesty, her blood was pounding too loudly to hear anything else.

If the informant who’d come to Artemis was right, this meeting was being held by those who supported the resurrection of Cronos, an ancient god who’d committed the ultimate sin of trying to off his sons, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. If they could catch one of these bastards and bring it in alive, maybe they’d be able to find and stop the person who was trying to bring Cronos back to life.

That person happened to be Kyana’s closest friend in the world, which made this practice mission even more important.

Her determination settled more firmly in her gut as she peered into the darkness. There was enough of her old Vampyric blood in her to make scanning the trees effortless. Her gaze fell upon rising smoke half a football field away, and while she couldn’t see the bodies, the tracer in her could sense them, feel them. She wanted to hunt them.

But the goddess in her wanted answers more than bloodshed.

She wiggled her toes inside her boots. “I’m ready. But I want to listen before we jump in. See if they mention Haven.”

She didn’t wait for Ryker’s protest. A hundred-foot pine fell into her line of sight, almost exactly where she wanted to be. She didn’t think her feet ever touched the forest floor as she sprinted the fifty yards, looked up at her branch, and sprang from her toes. When she landed in a crouch on top of the thick limb overhead, she wasn’t even winded.

Pressing her belly to the rough branch, she slithered to the end where she could hang her head over, unseen. Pine needles poked through her leather vest and stabbed at her armpits, but she didn’t stop to scratch. Soon, Ryker was there, lying flat on top of her as he too pressed himself low to watch.

“This wasn’t the plan,” he grumbled, his breath fanning her hair.


He’d wanted to strike immediately, to attack before the ceremony had even begun. Surprisingly, she’d been more patient. It went against her normal instincts to wait it out, but she was pretty sure listening and gathering more intel before rushing in was the smarter thing to do. Practice or not, she wanted something to take back to Olympus with her. Something that would help her prevent Haven from doing something too stupid to forgive.

Besides, the gods and goddesses were losing more of their powers every day. Anything Kyana could find out to stop their Chosen replacements from being picked off by Cronos’s followers would be a boon.

She wiggled to get more comfortable. Big mistake. Ryker’s groin stabbed against the backs of her thighs, and if he hadn’t been plastering her to the tree, she probably would have been distracted enough to roll right off the branch and into the middle of the coven below.

His fingers bit into the back of her leg, pinning her in place. “Stop moving.”

As a pair, they,