The Goddess Test (Goddess Test #1)(9)
Author: Aimee Carter

I shrieked and covered my mouth, seconds away from vomiting. Even in the dark, I could tell I wasn’t just looking at hair and blood. Her scalp was exposed and part of it flapped open, revealing a crushed skull and bits of—oh, God, I didn’t even want to think about it.

Quickly my fingers went to the side of her neck, searching in vain for a pulse. My breath was coming in rapid gasps now, and the world spun as I automatically resumed CPR. She couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. It was a joke, just some sick joke where I was supposed to drag my sorry ass to the front gate and walk home. She wasn’t supposed to be—

“Help!” I yelled as loudly as I could as hot tears streamed down my face. “Somebody help!”

CHAPTER 4

THE STRANGER

Sobbing, I thrust my hands against Ava’s abdomen. She couldn’t be dead. Two minutes ago, she’d been telling me off for…for what? It didn’t matter. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, taking a deep, shuddering breath. No. Not possible. This wasn’t happening.

“Help!” I cried, looking around wildly, hoping for some sign of life. But all I saw on either side of us were trees, and the only sound I heard was the flowing river. If anyone lived on the property, they could’ve been miles away.

I looked back at Ava, her face swimming as my eyes filled with tears again. What was I supposed to do?

My shoulders shook, and my body was useless. I stumbled backward, falling into a sitting position as I stared at Ava. Her eyes were wide open, unblinking and lifeless, and she was still as blood trickled from her head. It was useless.

I drew my knees to my chest, unable to tear my eyes away. What would happen now? Who would find us? I couldn’t leave her. I had to stay here until someone found us. Oh, God, my poor mother—what would everyone say? Would they think I killed Ava? Hadn’t I, in a way? If I hadn’t agreed to go with her, then she would’ve never jumped headfirst into a river.

“May I help you?”

My heart skipped a beat. Standing beside me was a man—a boy? I couldn’t tell, as his face was partially obscured by the darkness. But what I could see of him made my breath hitch in my throat. His hair was dark, and the jacket he wore was long and black, flapping in the cold breeze.

I hadn’t imagined him after all.

“She’s—” I couldn’t finish.

He knelt next to Ava and examined her. He had to see the same things I saw—the bloody head, the too-still body, the angle of her neck. But instead of panicking, he looked up at me, and a jolt ran down my spine. His eyes were the color of moonlight.

I heard rustling a few feet away. Startled, I twisted around, only to see a black Great Dane approach us, tail wagging. The dog sat next to him, and he scratched the dog behind his ears.

“What’s your name?” he said evenly.

With trembling hands, I tucked my wet hair behind my ears. “K-Kate.”

“Hello, Kate.” There was a calming quality to his voice, almost melodic. “I’m Henry, and this is Cerberus.”

I could see his face clearly now that he was closer, and something about it looked off. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me, twenty-two at the most, but even that was pushing it. And he was too beautiful to be out in the middle of the woods like this. He should’ve been on magazine covers, not spending his time hidden away in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

But his eyes drew my attention. Even in the darkness, they shone brightly, and I had a hard time tearing myself away from his gaze.

“M-my friend,” I said, my voice trembling. “She’s—”

“She’s dead.”

He spoke with such a matter-of-fact tone that my stomach turned inside out. I threw up what little dinner I’d eaten, the horror of the evening hitting me so hard I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me.

Finally, once I’d finished, I turned back into a sitting position and wiped my mouth. Henry had arranged Ava so she looked as if she were sleeping, and now he was staring at me like I was some strange animal he didn’t want to scare off. I looked away.

“So she is your friend?”

I coughed weakly, struggling to keep the sob bubbling up inside of me from bursting. Was she? Of course not. “Y-yes,” I managed to say. “Why?”

I heard the rustle of fabric and opened my eyes to see Henry placing his jacket over Ava, the way people covered dead bodies. “I didn’t realize friends treated each other the way she treated you.”

“She—it was a joke.”

“You didn’t think it was very funny.”

No, I hadn’t. But it didn’t matter anymore.

“You’re afraid of the water, yet you jumped in after her, even though she was going to leave you behind.”

I stared at him. How did he know that?

“Why?” he said, and I shrugged pathetically. What did he expect me to say?

“Because,” I said. “She—she didn’t deserve to…” She didn’t deserve to die.

Henry was quiet for a long moment, and he looked at Ava’s covered body. “What would you do to have her back?”

I struggled to understand what he was saying. “Back?”

“Back in the condition she was in before she jumped in the water. Alive.”

In my panic, I already knew my answer. What would I do to have Ava back? What would I do to stop death from tightening its chokehold over the remaining shreds of my life that it hadn’t already stolen? It had marked my mother and was waiting in the wings to take her from me, inching closer every day. She might’ve been ready to give up, but I would never stop fighting for her. And like hell I was going to let it claim another victim right in front of me, especially when it was my fault Ava was here in the first place. “Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Can you help her?” An irrational hope flared up inside of me. Maybe he was a doctor. Maybe he knew how to fix her.

“Kate…have you ever heard the story of Persephone?”

My mother loved Greek mythology, and she used to read the stories to me as a child. But what did that have to do with anything? “What? I—yes, a long time ago,” I said, bewildered. “Can you fix her? Is she—can you? Please?”

Henry stood. “Yes, if you promise me one thing.”

“Whatever you want.” I stood, too, daring to hope.

“Read the myth of Persephone again, and you will figure it out.” He took a step toward me and brushed his fingertips against my cheek. I jerked away, but my skin felt as if it were on fire where he’d touched me. He placed his hands in his pockets, untroubled by my rejection. “The autumn equinox is in two weeks. Read it, and you’ll understand.”