Entranced (Goddess of Fate Book 2) Read online

  “Thank you.”

  “And Italian cream sodas for us.” He slid mine in front of me, and I couldn’t help but smile. He knew my tastes. “Food will be up soon.”

  I sipped through my straw and turned back to the professor. “What is Karta’s role, then, if not as a goddess?”

  “Ah, but she is a goddess. Mythology is what we make of it, after all. These beings only exist because we say they do. So, Karta rightly belongs in the godhead.”

  I squinted one eye at him. “That doesn’t make any sense. First you say it’s a stretch, and then you say she belongs there? I mean, not to be critical.” I cringed, realizing my tone had turned bossy. I had to remember this was a college professor I was talking to, not Beth.

  “I think what he means is,” Aaron interjected, his eyes on the old man, “because they are merely figments of our imagination, they are what we say they are. Right?”

  “Or what the majority believes them to be,” Professor Kestovely said, nodding in approval.

  I frowned and considered that. If that were true, my role as goddess of fate could change over time, depending on public perception. Or could cease to exist at all. I chuckled grimly and muttered, “I do believe in fairies, I do, I do.”

  “Me too,” Aaron said.

  “Fairies are quite beside the point,” the professor said, a bemused expression on his face.

  “But back to my question.” I leaned forward. “Is Karta a lesser goddess than, say, Dekla?” I hoped I wasn’t blushing, because the room suddenly felt very hot.

  “Yes, Karta is not as powerful. However, there are references to Karta joining forces with other lesser, and sometimes major, gods to increase her power and achieve her goals. She is somewhat resourceful.”

  What goals could she have? Before I could ask, the barista shouted Aaron’s name, and he left to get our food.

  My phone chose that moment to ring, and I quickly silenced it, but not before I saw the caller. Stephen. My face warmed as I remembered the way he’d latched onto me at my house. Holding the phone in my lap, I sent him a quick text.

  Can’t talk. You okay?

  Where are you? he responded.

  “Mushroom soup with cheese bread for both of you,” Aaron said, returning to our table. I tucked my phone away before Aaron noticed the conversation and waited while he handed out our lunch. Then he unwrapped his own meat and cheese croissant.

  The conversation died away as we ate. The mushroom soup had a rich, earthy flavor, but my mind kept going over what the professor had said. I wanted answers, and I could hardly wait to finish eating. I finished first and sat with my hands in my lap, folding and refolding my napkin while watching the other two. At the last minute I remembered I had a notebook, and I pulled it from my bag, ready to write.

  The professor finished with his soup, dabbed at his lips with his napkin, and settled into his chair. “Now, Jayne,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes, “I think you had quite a few more things to ask me.”

  “If you don’t mind.” I continued without giving him a chance to say if he did or not. “You said Karta would borrow powers? How?”

  “By forming an alliance with another god. Temporary, of course, just to achieve a means.”

  “Why? What sort of goals might she have in mind?”

  “Well, for example, one time she wished to have an audience with the sun-god, Saule. However, Saule wouldn’t speak to her because of her low rank. So she made a bargain with Usins, the guardian of horses, that she would extend the life of any creature of his choosing if he would grant her the power to withhold the light of day for one week. By himself, Usins couldn’t do that, but combined with Karta, they could. Usins agreed, and after two days of no sunlight, Saule gave her an audience.”

  I leaned forward, my mind tripping over itself. “There are other gods?”

  He laughed. “Of course there are.”

  My cheeks burned. Right. How stupid of me. “How does Karta talk to them? Can any goddess do this? Was this only done anciently?” Maybe it was something Karta of old could do, before she gave up her immortality.

  A gleam of interest lit up his tired gray eyes. “Rarely do I meet someone so engaged in the subject matter that they refer to the gods in present tense, as if they were real people.”

  I laughed lightly and glanced at Aaron. Never in his wildest dreams could the professor guess what I was.

  “All things being theoretical, I don’t know how she did it,” he continued. “It’s presumed the gods had a way of communicating. It’s also possible she let Usins claim her as his mate. As long as she belonged to him, Usins could not only force her to do his bidding, but he could also intercede with the other gods on her behalf.”

  “Force her to do his bidding?” Aaron said.

  “Yes. The male has an extremely dominant relationship in the ancient mythology. She must do what he commands.”

  “That sounds awful,” I said, frowning.

  “In our ever-more feminist society, it does. But a man looking out for his woman’s best interest would not command her to do anything that could harm her.”

  “So I could make Jayne do things?” Aaron said, shooting me a teasing smile.

  “In Latvian mythology, yes. In reality, good luck.”

  We all laughed, and I relaxed.

  “The lesser gods still had to beseech those higher up in the hierarchy,” the professor said. “Only when connected with Usins, either through a relationship or a binding, could Karta beseech Saule. There would almost always have been a bargain struck; no one ever did something for nothing. As for your last question—” He frowned. “I’m not sure how to answer that. All of this was done anciently. In fact, the stories are sketchy because there are no written records from that time. Everything was recorded hundreds of years later.”

  My heart sank. “So basically, all we have is hearsay.”

  “Basically, yes.”

  I nodded, a little disappointed. “Thank you so much. You’ve been amazingly helpful. You have no idea.”

  “What are you doing this for?” he asked, his eyes looking keener than they had earlier. “Research for what? Are you writing a book? Studying mythology?”

  I slipped my notebook back in my bag. “Uh, no. Nothing so scholarly. Just—human interest, is all.” Human interest, ha, ha. I laughed at my own joke.

  “Did anyone want dessert?” Aaron asked.

  The pastries behind the glass case were calling my name, but my mom would be also if I didn’t get home soon. “Better not,” I said, standing up and placing the strap of my bag across my chest. “I’ve run out of excuses for not answering the phone.”

  “Oh, my dear,” the professor said, standing as well. “You can’t leave here without trying their scones. At least take several to go.”

  “Well . . . if you insist.” I smiled at him.

  We drove the professor home and I thanked him profusely for his time.

  “If you have any more questions . . .” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. It trembled between his shaky fingers. “Just give me a call. I’ll be happy to talk you through anything.”

  “I will.” I took the card and stuck in the front pocket of my bag.

  Aaron waited until he’d disappeared inside before speaking. “So. Talk to me. I know you’ve got thoughts.”

  “So many.” I took a breath and held it. “How can Karta have goals? I mean, she’s not her own self. She’s like me. A girl given the powers of a goddess.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron agreed. “So?”

  “So he made it sound like she was in control, like she could make deals and enact promises. Have an agenda. The original Karta, maybe. But once she chose to give up immortality and pass her powers on to mortals, that possibility ended.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Look at it this way. Do you think anyone could be Dekla?”

  The thought didn’t sit right with me. “No,” I said, mostly because I wanted to believe I was special. “Dekla
has to be chosen.”

  “Based on what?”

  I shrugged. “Personality. Willingness.”

  “Did the previous Dekla know anything about you when she chose you?”

  I thought of Adelle, the Dekla before me. “No.”

  “So you could say she got lucky, choosing someone as selfless as you.”

  I flushed a little under his praise, but his words brought up another scenario. “You’re saying she also could’ve chosen someone unwilling.”

  “Could have,” Aaron agreed. “What if you’d been a spoiled, power-hungry brat? Where would that leave things?”

  I thought of something else. Since there couldn’t be two Deklas in the same place at the same time, Adelle had to die before she could pass on the power of Dekla.

  “What if,” I said, thinking out loud, “it’s more than just a power we pass on? What if a tiny piece of the goddess’ personality is also transferred to us?”

  “Like maybe a part of Dekla is in you?” Aaron glanced at me and merged onto the freeway. “Have you changed since you started seeing people die?”

  “Well, of course I have,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Anyone would. I just don’t know if that has anything to do with Dekla, or if it’s because seeing people’s deaths over and over is a crummy way to go about your day.”

  Aaron laughed. “Touché.”

  “So let’s imagine a part of Karta is passed on to each person, and Karta has a tendency to strike deals with other gods for her own benefit.”

  “One step further,” Aaron said. “Imagine that tendency of Karta is passed on to someone selfish or manipulative.”

  Dynamite. Or was it? Were we just using Karta as a scapegoat to these suicides, desperate to attach blame? “Wouldn’t Laima know? Wouldn’t she warn me as soon as she realized?”

  Aaron paused a moment before answering. “Maybe Karta’s become more powerful than her.”

  Goosebumps popped out on my arms, and I shivered. Laima was the strongest of us all. If Karta could overpower her, what was I in comparison? “If that’s what’s happening, how do the suicides fit in?”

  We drove in silence for several minutes as we both tried to come up with a reason for the apparent insanity.

  “Mutiny,” I murmured, biting down on my thumbnail.

  “Mutiny?”

  “Yes.” I gave a vigorous nod. “Karta’s the lesser goddess, right? The one that’s practically forgotten? Well, what if she wanted to change all that?”

  “How could she?”

  “By becoming the major goddess, of course.”

  “But how?”

  “By coercing Laima to give up her powers, she could become the greatest goddess.”

  I could see the wheels turning in his head. “So she’s holding humanity for ransom?”

  “Maybe.”

  “How is she causing the suicides?”

  That I did not know.

  “You’re forgetting something else,” Aaron said, shooting a glance at me.

  “What’s that?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” I frowned at him. “What about me?”

  “You have your own power. Laima didn’t give it to you; Adelle passed it on, but it’s from Dekla. Even if she convinces Laima, Karta still has you to contend with.”

  “Oh, and I’m such a formidable force.” I scoffed and leaned back in my chair.

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” Worry crept into his voice. “You might be in her way.”

  I reached into my bag and pulled out a baseball cap. “I need to think on this.”

  “And I need to get gas.” Aaron slid into a gas station connected to the interstate.

  I placed the cap on my head just as my phone rang. I pulled it out, certain it would be my mother.

  It was Stephen again.

  Had Aaron seen? Keeping my eyes forward, I hit the “decline” button.

  “Your mom?”

  “Yep.”

  I put the phone face-down on the dash. The voicemail jingle rang out.

  “Why don’t you just call her?”

  Criminy. I’d dug myself in now. “I will later.”

  Aaron got out and pumped the gas, and I heaved a sigh. Why was Stephen calling?

  Chocolate. I needed some. I grabbed my purse and hopped out of the car. “I need some chocolate. You?”

  Aaron laughed at me. “There are four pastries in the paper bag in the back.”

  I gave a sheepish grin. “None of them are chocolate.”

  “I’m good.”

  I perused the convenience store offerings, finally selecting one with dark chocolate and almonds. Aaron was done pumping gas and sitting behind the wheel when I came out. “I’m ready,” I said, sliding back into the car, brain food in hand.

  He looked at me, cocking his head, his expression oddly still. “Someone texted you. I didn’t think about it; I picked up your phone.”

  My body went from cold to hot in a split second, and I tried to keep cool. “Did you read my text?” I asked, putting an accusation in my voice. Like if I caught him doing something wrong, it would void my own crimes.

  “No,” he snapped, emotion breaking the blank facade. “But I saw who the missed call was from. Or should I say, calls. Oh, and the text.”

  “So?” I said, keeping my face impassive. “It’s just Stephen.”

  He blinked at me, as if I’d just admitted to something. “Why did you lie to me?”

  I let out a slow breath. “I don’t know.”

  He rested one hand on the steering wheel and looked out the windshield, sucking in his lower lip. “I didn’t know you two are still friends.”

  “We’re not.”

  “Then why is he texting you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He faced me again. “Will you read me the text?”

  That cold feeling flashed over me again. How could I refuse? I gulped and forced my hands not to tremble as I opened the message.

  “‘Are you still with Aaron?’” I read out loud. “‘Call me when you’re alone.’” I exhaled, feeling like I’d dodged a bullet.

  Judging from the darkness in Aaron’s eyes, he didn’t think so. “So you still talk to him.”

  I shrugged, desperately trying to keep calm. “From time to time. We go to school together, Aaron.”

  “How does he know you’re with me?”

  “He must assume I am,” I fumbled, not wanting to admit I’d been with Stephen right before meeting up with Aaron.

  Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell him?”

  Caught. Again. Sweat beaded on my brow. “Maybe. I can’t remember. He texted me earlier, and I must’ve told him.”

  He held his hand out. “Can I see your phone?”

  Criminy. This must be how the guilty felt at trial. I didn’t want to hand it over, but not doing so would be even worse. I pressed it into his hand.

  Aaron held it for a moment, hesitant. “I don’t want to read your texts,” he said softly. “I want to trust you.” He lifted his eyes to mine. “But you’ve lied to me twice in ten minutes.”

  I squirmed in my seat. “Sorry,” I whispered.

  He put the phone down. “If I have to peek over your shoulder, there’s not much holding us together.”

  His words were like a sucker-punch to the stomach. Instead of feeling relieved that he wasn’t going through my phone, I only felt worse that I couldn’t prove my innocence.

  “Have you been seeing Stephen?”

  I held Aaron’s gaze, opting for the truth and hoping he would see it. “No. Well, not like that.”

  “Not like what?” The dangerous note tinged his voice again.

  “Not like—that! But I did see him yesterday.”

  “Where did you see him?”

  “At my house,” I said. “But I didn’t invite him over. He just stopped by. He’s been lonely.” Like me. I didn’t add that, though.

  “Why do you have to wait until you’re alone to call him?” />
  “It’s just kind of weird to talk to a girl when her boyfriend’s there, you know?”

  “What does his voice message say?”

  Feeling like a cornered hen, I pushed the button for voicemail. I couldn’t breathe as Stephen’s voice carried across the speaker.

  “‘Hey Jayne, I thought maybe you’d be back by now. Been thinking about, well, you know. Want to talk again. No pressure. Hope things went well on your trip. Call me.’”

  My heart pattered against my ribcage, and I didn’t know what to focus on.

  Aaron helped me choose. “What’s going on, Jayne?”

  “We’re just friends,” I whispered.

  “You said you weren’t friends.”

  Trapped. “We kind of are.”

  “Which is it, Jayne?” he said, raising his voice.

  I started to cry. I didn’t know what else to do. “We’re just friends!” Anger warmed my chest, adding fuel to my tears. “What right do you have to question me? You’re the one whose ex-girlfriend flew in from England last spring—twice!—to try to get you back.”

  “And she failed. Because I wasn’t interested in her anymore. Jayne, are you still interested in Stephen?”

  I didn’t even know the answer to that myself. What was I supposed to say? “No,” I said, because there really was no other answer.

  “If only you sounded convincing,” he said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Aaron put the car into Drive, and we didn’t talk the entire hour home. My tears dried up and I fell into a miffed silence, equally angry at him for questioning my loyalty and upset with myself for not knowing my feelings.

  “We’re home,” Aaron said when we finally pulled up beside my white Honda. He grabbed my overnight bag and put it in the trunk of my car.

  “Thanks,” I said stiffly. I got out and stretched my legs, standing beside him.

  My phone buzzed, and this time, like the last two times, it was my mom, asking again where I was. She’d kill me if she knew I’d gone to New York this weekend. I texted back, Still with Aaron. Be home soon. I’d told her an hour ago that I’d met up with him. It was the truth. Just not all of it.

  “Is that what you do to me?” Aaron said, watching me as he closed the trunk. “Tell me enough of the story that it sounds true while you hide the rest?”