Goddess Interrupted (Goddess Test #2)(7)
Author: Aimee Carter

“Because Henry has you and he doesn’t.” Ava tapped her f inger against her porcelain cheek. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

I eyed her. Was this a trick question? “Yeah. You’re Ava.”

“And what am I the goddess of ?” she said, f lipping her blond hair over her shoulder.

No one had ever told me, but out of the fourteen members of the council, Ava was by far the easiest to match with her Olympian counterpart. Next to Henry, of course.

“Goddess of love.”

She beamed. “Very good, although you forgot beauty and sex.”

Yes, she was def initely Aphrodite. “What’s your point?” Most of the time I managed to forget how stunning Ava was, but when I remembered, it was hard to feel like anything but an unattractive lump next to her.

“My point is that I have certain gifts, and I can tell James loves you. But we all love you, Kate. You’re part of the family now.”

“What kind of love is it? For James, I mean.” She sighed dramatically and gave me a pat on the knee.

“Telling you would be a terrible invasion of James’s privacy, and I do have to put up with him for the foreseeable future.”

I rolled my eyes. “Since when have you cared about privacy?”

“Since Henry showed up ten seconds ago.” I scrambled to my feet. Butterf lies invaded my stomach as I dashed out of the closet, but I stopped short when I saw Henry sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands folded together and his face stony. He looked pale and exhausted, and I thought I saw a slight tremble in his hands, but that wasn’t what held my attention.

A deep gash ran down his neck and disappeared under his shirt, but more noticeable was the smear of crimson on his skin.

He was bleeding.

CHAPTER THREE

CORONATION

I didn’t know much about being a god, but I did know gods weren’t supposed to bleed.

They could fall sick or become injured when they adopted mortal bodies for short periods of time, like Ava had done when I’d f irst met her in Eden and like my mother had done for the f irst eighteen years of my life. But one of the major perks of being immortal was not worrying about pesky things like blood and death.

“Henry!” I f lew to his side, my f ingers hovering above the gash in his skin. He badly needed stitches, but how was anyone supposed to heal a god? “What happened?” He f linched as I gently rolled down his collar to expose the rest of the wound. His black shirt was wet from the blood, and without asking I began to unbutton it.

“I’ll—I’ll go get Theo,” said Ava, and she dashed out of the room, Pogo at her heels, leaving me to tend to Henry on my own.

“It is nothing,” said Henry, but the tension in his jaw said otherwise. Once I’d unbuttoned his shirt, I peeled the fabric away, exposing a cut that ran down his chest and halfway to his navel.

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” I said. “Lie down.” Henry started to protest, but I gave him a stern look, and he caved. Once he was on his back, I hovered over him, trying to f igure out something I could do to help, but he wasn’t bleeding so badly that I needed to apply pressure, and I didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was.

“How did this happen? I thought gods weren’t supposed to get injured like this.”

“Normally we are not.” The corners of his lips turned upward into a faint smile. “You look well, Kate. How was your summer?”

He was bleeding all over the bed, and he wanted to know how my summer had gone. “Compared to how my autumn’s going so far? Fantastic. Can’t I do something?

You’re getting blood all over the sheets.” The bed was the last of my worries, but it was enough to distract Henry from asking any more questions. “My apologies. I will make sure to clean it up before tonight.

Theo will be here shortly, and—ah, there you are.” I whirled around in time to see Theo enter. Most of the council had acted as staff at Eden Manor, and Theo had taken up the position of Master of the Guard. Security, I thought, but as I saw him walk through the door, tower-ing over Ava as she snuck in behind him, I realized his role might have extended beyond that. Henry was able to heal me, he’d proven that, but apparently he couldn’t heal himself. Then again, he wasn’t supposed to be capable of getting injured in the f irst place.

“Where are the others?” said Theo. As I stepped out of his way, I opened my mouth to ask who the others were, but then quickly shut it. Walter and Phillip, Henry’s brothers. The same people I’d seen in my vision.

“They are coming,” said Henry. Theo set his hands over the wound, and Henry’s pained expression relaxed. “They insisted I go on ahead.”

“Are they injured?” said Theo, and Henry shook his head.

“The attack was mostly focused on me.”

I watched Theo anxiously, looking for any signs that whatever he was doing was working. At f irst I saw nothing, but then, after several seconds, a strange glow formed between his hands and Henry’s skin. As he passed his palms over the wound, it closed, leaving behind a faint silver line.

That was all the evidence I needed to know that this wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Henry had no other scars.

“There,” said Theo once he’d f inished. He f ished a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hands. “I would recommend taking it easy this afternoon in case there’s any damage I didn’t catch.”

“There isn’t,” said Henry as he sat up. He started to pull his shirt back on, but he must have felt how damp it was, because he set it aside. “Thank you, Theo. Ava.” Theo wasted no time leaving, and Ava lingered behind him, her brow furrowed with concern. She jerked her head toward Henry, and I shook my head. As much as I wanted her around, now that Henry was here, there was no reason for her to stay.

I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my f ingers through Pogo’s fur as Henry folded his ruined shirt. A dozen questions ran through my mind, but I didn’t know where to start, so I left it up to him. Eventually he would have to talk to me, even if he didn’t want to tell me what had really happened.

Nearly a minute passed before he spoke, and by that time I’d shoved my hands between my knees, too nervous to try to pretend not to be. “Are you looking forward to the ceremony this evening?” he said, and I gaped at him.

“We haven’t seen each other in six months, you’re covered in blood, and that’s what you want to talk about?” He shrugged. “It is as good a topic as any.”