Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(7)

“Alight with life and love these spirits are—free to begin anew, to travel far. So Love herself commands of you—spirits, come to me to complete the task I would have you do!” Venus threw more power into the oracle and, like a flame drawing the mortals fluttering spirits, the souls of Katrina and Jacqueline lifted immediately to enter the stream of energy the goddess created until, with a sound like a champagne bottle being uncorked, they popped through the marble basin to hover in the air in front of the goddess.

When she glanced back through her portal she saw the yellow car burst into fierce flame.

Venus sighed. “Well, darlings, now what are we going to do?”

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

"You did what!” Athena sputtered (unattractively, Venus noted) as she stared wide-eyed at the glowing orbs that held the two mortal spirits.

“Well, I couldn’t just let them die!” Venus said defensively, patting the orb that floated closest to her. “It was just too awful and too soon. They’re both so young.”

“Mortals die. Period. You shouldn’t have interfered with what Fate decreed for them,” Athena said.

“Oh, please! These are modern mortals. They don’t believe in Fate.”

Hera rushed into Venus’s oracle chamber. “What has happened? I came as soon as the satyr gave me the emergency message and I—” The goddess broke off as she caught sight of the floating orbs. Her smooth brow wrinkled. “Are those mortal spirits?”

“They are indeed,” Athena said.

“Well, what ever are they doing here? Are they lost?”

“No. They are not lost. They are the spirits of two modern mortal women and Venus brought them here.”

Venus frowned at Athena. “Are you having regular orgasms, Athena? If not, that could be why you’re always so grumpy and judgmental.”

“Venus!” Hera’s voice was sharp, reminding the Goddess of Love that she was in the presence of the Queen of Olympus. “Why are the spirits of modern mortals in this chamber?”

“One of them”—Venus paused, studied the orbs and finally pointed at the one closest to her—“this one, I think, is the spirit of the mortal woman I have chosen to help us out with our Achilles problem. The other is her best friend.”

“Which still doesn’t explain why their souls are here in Olympus instead of in their bodies back in the modern mortal world where they belong,” Hera said.

“They can’t be in their bodies because their bodies are dead,” Athena said. “Actually, burned to nothing but ash.”

“Burned? Dead? But how could you choose a burned-up dead mortal for Achilles?” Hera rubbed her temple with one hand; the other she waved gracefully before her, plucking the goblet of ambrosia out of the air when it appeared and taking a long drink of it.

“It’s all really very easy to explain,” Venus said, sending Athena a dark look.

“Then explain. Please,” Hera said.

“I chose the mortal woman for Achilles when she was alive. Then there was an accident while she and her friend were leaving a party and, well, they were killed. I simply could not stand it. They were so young and happy. And,” she added pointedly, “Kat was so completely perfect for Achilles.”

“So you brought their bodiless spirits here?” Hera paused and sighed. “Venus, I understand how easy it is to get attached to mortals, but you didn’t do these women a favor. They should be on their way to the Afterlife that awaits them. There is nothing we can—” Abruptly Hera’s voice broke off. A look of shock passed over her lovely face and the goblet of ambrosia slid through her hand to shatter on the marble floor.

“Hera! What is it?” Venus cried as she and Athena rushed to her side.

The goddess’s face had gone horribly white. “My priestesses! They are sobbing for me.”

“Here, sit. Breathe deeply and tell us what has happened.” Venus guided Hera over to a soft chaise as Athena conjured a fresh goblet of ambrosia, which she held to Hera’s lips, but the goddess waved the drink away.

“It’s the Greeks. They are sacking my temple that rests just outside the westernmost wall of Troy.” She passed a shaky hand over her eyes as if to wipe the image from her mind. Hera looked up at the two goddesses. “I don’t understand this. My temples do not get sacked. I am Goddess of the Home and Hearth, Goddess of Marriage and Family, Queen of Olympians. There is no reason to defile me.” Hera weaved a little like she was going to faint. “I have to sit down.”

“You are sitting down,” Athena said.

“What do I do?” Sweat broke out over the goddess’s too white face. “My priestesses are beseeching me!”

“I don’t know!” Venus sat heavily on the bench next to Hera, took the ambrosia goblet from Athena and drained it in one gulp. “I’m Goddess of Love. People fornicate in my temples, which I don’t consider defilement. Once in a while a bereft lover—a slightly crazy one at that—will hurl himself on his sword, but that really can’t be helped.”

“I know what to do.”

Venus and Hera looked up to see Athena putting on the war helmet that had just materialized.

“Do I need to remind you that I am Goddess of War?”

Venus and Hera shook their heads in tandem.