Little Goddess (Black Resorts #3)

Prologue

CALLIE

FOUR YEARS AGO

“ G ood news, Calliope. We’re moving.”

That was not good news.

Actually, I was pretty sure that was the worst news.

My gaze darted back and forth between my parents’ smiling faces, and I worked to hold back tears. “Why?”

His hazy focus moved above me, and my dad gave a wistful smile. “A new path.”

A new path.

Pfft.

That was their answer for everything. Every impulsive move. Every school change. Every new belief.

Every time they disappeared for days or even weeks .

I was sick of new paths. I wanted to remain on the same one. A boring one. I liked it at Family Keepers. We hadn’t been there long, but of all the connection cooperatives we’d lived at, it was my favorite.

There were other teenagers there. We were close enough to town that Brother Oak let us borrow an old pickup to attend the actual high school rather than being taught by some unqualified brother or sister in the dining hall. Getting caught up on the curriculum was a lot of work, but I was doing okay. It was also a lot of work tending to the gardens and beekeeping so we could run the produce stand that funded Family Keepers, but I liked that part, too.

I didn’t want to leave it all behind. And I knew for a fact Brother Oak was not going to be happy that my parents—and their money—were leaving.

Fear trickled down my spine at the thought.

Oh my goddess, no.

“Have you told anyone else?” I asked.

My mom gave a wobbly smile, her bloodshot eyes barely visible under her hooded lids. She pushed her curly brown hair out of her face, fighting to tuck it under a scrap of gauzy fabric she used as a headband. “No way, Calliope girl. We always talk to you first. We’re headed to see Brother Oak next.”

“Don’t.” My hand shot out to grip hers. “Goodbyes are hard. Sometimes a clean cut is better for the soul.”

She slowly nodded at my bullshit. “Wise.” But then she shrugged. “Abraham will be here to pick us up in an hour, so they’ll see us leaving anyway. We should say goodbye. Closure is also good for a clean aura.”

“Contact Abraham.”

Whoever the hell that is.

“Tell him to meet us in the field down from the farm stand,” I continued. “I’ll borrow the pickup truck, and we’ll leave it where Brother Oak can find it.”

Dad shook his head, his overgrown blond hair falling into his handsome face.

I was the perfect mix of my parents—on the surface, at least.

My eyes were lighter brown like my dad’s but rimmed with long lashes like my mom’s dark eyes.

I had my dad’s hair color but my mom’s curls.

Kind of.

When I was a kid, I used to think her ringlets made her look like a princess. Mine was somewhere between hers and my dad’s pin-straight hair. Some wave. Some curl.

Lots of frizz.

“You can’t drive,” Dad said. “You’re only thirteen.”

Even though I should’ve been used to it, pain stabbed my heart and my pride.

If my own parents don’t pay attention to me…

“I’m fifteen, Dad.”

And I’d been driving since I was eleven. When we’d lived down in New Mexico, and the nearest town was a half-hour drive.

Of all the places we’d lived—and there’d been more than I could count or remember—New Mexico had been the worst. That place hadn’t even pretended to be anything more than a stoner’s orgy. Unless I was stuck on babysitting duty, I used to take whatever car had the keys left in it to get away from the noises .

Each time, I would park somewhere and imagine driving farther. Not stopping until I hit a big city I could get lost in or a small town where everyone looked out for each other.

I never left, of course. I would stay gone until everyone was asleep, then return to the kids’ bunk.

Family Keepers wasn’t perfect, but it was infinitely better than that place. Than any of the other places.

“The vibes feel better without the tears of a messy goodbye,” I added, feeding into their bullshit. “A new path isn’t new if it’s soggy from tears.”

“We’ll call,” Dad agreed instantly. “Abraham already said there’s too much toxicity in this life. We can’t afford to add more.”

He could financially afford to. That was part of the problem.

As if they hadn’t just dropped a bomb that we’d be moving to … whatever that fresh hell called itself, my parents casually strolled away. Like they had all the time in the world.

Because they did.

I was the one responsible for everything. If I didn’t pack, no one would. Then I would have to leave behind my friends, my job, my school, my bees, and all of my belongings.

I didn’t want to do that again.

With practiced efficiency, I quickly and discreetly packed our small rooms—which weren’t much larger than supply closets yet were more than most of the others had, thanks to my parents’ donations . There wasn’t much in their space. Just the thin, flowy outfits the brothers and sisters wore.

Plus, weed and shrooms.

A lot of those.

My tiny space was cluttered with a controlled chaos that made sense to me. I did my best to grab the important things while leaving behind enough not to throw up any warning flags.

Knowing it would be a while before I could venture close enough to buy the honey I helped painstakingly create with my orderly bees, I filled the rest of my bag until it was about to burst with the cute jars and little wooden dippers.

Is it sad that I’ll miss my hive more than any of these people?

Try as I might to be as organized as the bees, it wasn’t one of my strengths. Maybe that was why I’d bonded with them the way I had. Because I wished I were more like them.

It was too late, though. I had to leave them, and that made unshed tears burn in my eyes.

I didn’t have time to cry as I hurried for the truck. I put my parents’ bags under the bench seat, not wanting their stash exposed in case we drove by a cop with a drug-sniffing dog or some other unlikely—but awful—scenario.

With no room, I was about to toss mine in the back when a voice called, “Going somewhere?”

Heart in my throat, I whipped around to find Brother Oak looming over me. Contrary to what his name would suggest, he wasn’t as thick as an oak tree. He wasn’t even overly tall at around five-ten or so, but his commanding presence made him seem much larger.

The fact I was only a couple of inches above five feet didn’t help.

I quickly found my voice in my panic before he could get suspicious. “My parents and I have a meeting at the school.”

His shrewd gaze dropped to the bag I held, then slowly raised to meet mine again.

Lifting the duffel, the glass jars clinked together like I hoped. I prayed that he didn’t open it to see my meager clothes hidden underneath. “I have to drive past the stand, so I figured I’d restock if needed. Friday during the evening commute and Saturday morning are always our busiest times. People splurge on the fresh honey for weekend breakfast. Last weekend when I was working, a lady was saying that she used it in brunch cocktails with her girlfriends.”

Shut up, you’re rambling. He knows all this, and you’re going to ruin everything.

I pressed my lips closed to cut off my nervous talking—a bad habit—and forced my mouth to curve into a smile I did not feel.

The honey jars clattered together again as I lowered the bag, adding one last bit of credibility to my lie.

“Did you remember to grab some candles?” he asked. “I think the stand is running low.”

“Yup,” I said. It wasn’t technically a lie. I had grabbed two beeswax candles, but they were for myself.

He lifted his chin before reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Calliope.”

You don’t know what you’d do without my labor and my parents’ money, you mean.

And you’re about to find out.

I gritted my teeth and kept that forced smile in place while I cursed my parents.

I didn’t understand why they wanted to leave. Family Keepers was fine. Brother Oak himself was fine, too. A little too watchful, sure. Intimidating, definitely. He had a vibe about him that said not to mess with him, but up until that point, it’d never been aimed at us.

If he found out we were leaving, though?

I just knew it would be a disaster.

“You’re not in trouble, are you?”

I swallowed hard, panic surging.

“The meeting,” he clarified. “Are you in trouble?”

The question sounded like it came from a place of caring, but I knew better. He just didn’t want anything blowing back on Family Keepers. It was part of the stipulations that the other teens and I agreed to when we asked to attend school. We were forbidden from bringing negative attention to our little community farm. It wasn’t hard. Unlike other places we’d lived, we weren’t the only unconventional community in Utah. Most everyone minded their business about it, so I could finally exist unbothered.

Not that I would get in trouble, even if we didn’t have that rule. I’d never been a rebellious kid. Of course, with the way my parents were free spirits, maybe my rule-following was my rebellion. I’d just always hated getting in trouble or feeling like people were disappointed in me. I did what I could to avoid that by keeping my focus on school and my bees.

And I was leaving both behind.

“Nope, no trouble.” I fidgeted with the strap of the bag. “Just a routine thing. Goals and all that.”

He scanned me again, and I worried I was found out. But he only gave a firm nod before walking away.

A dismissal I was grateful for.

I carefully set my bag in the truck and turned to scan the area. My heart cracked as I pretended not to notice a couple of my friends trying to wave me over, but it shattered when I saw my bees.

All this for what? A new place, same as the rest? Or possibly worse?

My resentment grew as the minutes ticked by. I was beginning to worry I would have to hunt down my stoned parents and herd them to make the escape they wanted when they finally approached.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yeah,” my dad said before lifting his finger. “In a minute. We have to pack.”

Well, they proved me wrong. They actually thought to do it. Not until after we were supposed to leave, but still. They thought of it.

“I already did, Dad.”

“All our stuff?”

“Yes.”

“What about our stash?”

Why can’t I have normal parents? Or at least ones who aren’t so open and blunt about their drug use and sexual habits? Hide it like the rest do.

“Yes, I have it.”

He deflated and opened the passenger door to let my mom in first.

I walked around to the driver’s side, my stomach churning until I worried nerves would make me lose my lunch. Once we were settled on the bench seat, I put the key in the ignition and turned.

Nothing.

No.

No, no, no.

“Maybe this is a sign from the universe,” Mom said.

“That we should stay?” I asked, hope surging as I glanced out at the place that’d been my favorite.

“No, we have to leave,” Dad answered. “Abraham promised more enlightenment. Fulfillment. Less strain on our souls.”

How much strain can there be when you spend your life in a daze?

“We need to say goodbye,” Mom said. “Face-to-face.”

How do they not see him as a threat?

Right.

The daze.

When my attempt to start the car yielded the same results, she flung an arm out. “This is a sign.”

It’s a sign that Brother Oak shouldn’t do his own mechanical work.

“It’s fine. It just needs a second,” I muttered, trying again.

“It’ll only take a minute. Fifteen at the most. Abraham will understand.” Mom reached across Dad for the door handle.

The universe finally decided to look out for me because just as the door opened, the engine turned and roared to a start.

Thank goddess.

“Oh. I was wrong.” Mom closed the door and gave an excited hum. “Wait until you see Eternal Sun. It is unlike anywhere else.”

That wasn’t much to go on.

We’d stayed in all sorts of communities. Small private shacks. Large cabins where everyone bunked together. Tents or yurts. Mixes of all.

‘Unlike anywhere else’ wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

My eyes moved between my side mirrors, the rearview one, and out the front window as I drove. I watched for Brother Oak, any of his posse, or cops. I wasn’t honestly sure which would be worse.

The closer we got to the meeting spot, the more my muscles loosened. My shoulders unbunched. My chest stayed tight with anxiety over the new location, but at least we weren’t facing Brother Oak’s wrath.

Or so I thought.

Because luck—or maybe the entirety of the universe—wasn’t on my side.

I knew it without a doubt when the rumbles of speeding pickups grew louder, quickly closing the distance between us.

“How did they know?” I whispered, pressing the accelerator harder, the old truck giving a groan as the speedometer ticked up.

“I left a note,” Mom admitted. “They just want to say goodbye.”

“You left a…” I shook my head, my focus darting from my speed to the rearview mirror. “They don’t want to say bye. They want us back.”

I glanced at my mom to see if the magnitude was landing, but it wasn’t. Her smile was sincere.

“That’s nice.”

“No, it isn’t. They want your money, Mom. They don’t want to say goodbye to that. Or our free labor.”

“That’s not true. They’re family, but sometimes birds need to spread their wings. They unders?—”

“Calliope is right,” my dad said, some sense cutting through his high. “Remember what Abraham said? They’re draining us. This is why we’re leaving.” He unbuckled and turned a little in his seat. “They’re angry. I can see it from here.”

“They’re hurt,” Mom tried, her kind soul too trusting.

“No, Millie babe. They’re pissed .”

I tried to force the old truck to go faster, but it was no match for the newer ones Brother Oak and his council drove. One clipped the side of our bumper, and we spun into the old field, dirt billowing around us. I worked the wheel, going with the force until I had control.

One of the bags slid out from under my seat, and I tried to kick it back before it got in the way of the pedals.

“They’re going to flip us,” Mom shouted when they grazed us again, not able to connect fully as I swerved. It turned into a scream when Dad righted himself, his nose bloody from where it’d smashed against the back window.

“Buckle up,” I ordered. Potential speeding ticket be damned, I floored the accelerator and narrowly avoided another hit. They followed closely after, aiming for us again, but I turned down an access road.

“This isn’t the way,” my dad said, finally getting his seat belt back into place.

I knew that. It was a road that we sometimes parked on after school when we wanted to avoid chores a little longer.

The others followed, and I tried to time it just right before quickly taking the narrow path that led me back the way we’d come. I cut through a different field, taking down the overgrown plants and weeds. I hoped I had it aimed correctly because I couldn’t see a thing. The hedgerow ended, and I slammed on the brakes. The old truck rocked as we screeched to a stop at the back end of the farmstand.

A giant, gleaming SUV was waiting, but I didn’t know if it was customers, a lost motorist, or the mysterious Abraham. Not until the driver and passenger got out in matching linen outfits.

That must be our ride.

Throwing the truck into park, I didn’t bother turning off the engine as I threw open the door. I grabbed the bag that’d slid around before it could trip me up when I jumped out.

I opened my mouth to shout a warning to the newcomers, but it wasn’t needed. They went alert, both of them moving at the same time to pull guns out.

Guns.

Out.

And pointed near us. Not at us, but still.

Why do they have guns?

Why the fuck do they have guns?

“Get in, we’ll protect you,” one of them shouted.

I wasn’t thrilled to get in a vehicle with strangers—though that wasn’t a rare occurrence in my life. I especially wasn’t thrilled that those strangers were armed with weapons they clearly had experience with.

But since they were offering protection instead of trying to hit us, it seemed they were the lesser of the evils.

Or it was an elaborate kidnapping plot.

In which case, we were jumping from the frying pan into a raging fire.

But we had no choice.

My dad stayed at our backs, shielding my mom and me as much as he could as we raced for the new vehicle just as the trucks squealed up. Shouts were exchanged, but I couldn’t make out what was said as I climbed into the back seat between my parents. My heart thumped too loud to hear anything else.

The two men quickly got in and sped off, and I craned my neck to look out the rear window. Brother Oak and the others shouted.

And they were armed with hunting shotguns.

What happened to the peace and harmony Brother Oak spoke about at meetings?

“It’s okay,” the passenger said as he turned around with a smile. It didn’t look forced. It also didn’t look like he was ruffled by that scene, which was its own kind of disconcerting. “The windows are bulletproof. You’re safe.”

Like them being armed, the fact their SUV was bulletproof was insanely weird.

What type of place are we going to?

What new mess did my parents get us into?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. But stuck between Mom and Dad in the back seat, I didn’t have much choice. I couldn’t exactly crawl over them to throw myself from the speeding SUV.

“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Dad asked me, sinking into the lush seat.

I told him the truth. “Video games.”

He perked up. “Brother Oak doesn’t allow electronics.”

Since it was no longer our problem, I quietly shared one of my friends’ secrets. “Arlo stashed away money to buy a used handheld unit.”

Dad gave an approving nod, his unruly spirit always butting against too many rules.

Unlike him, rules were where I seemed to thrive.

It wasn’t until my heart stopped racing and the adrenaline slowed to leave me trembling that I looked down to see I still clutched a duffel. My mom had the other at her feet.

It was just the two.

Bye, clothes.

Bye, belongings.

Bye, precious honey.

Those tears that I’d managed to hold back broke free to trail down my cheeks in silent heartbreak.

The driver caught my eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled. “It’s okay, Calliope. You’re in good hands. Eternal Sun is a beautiful place, and Abraham will care for you.”

Since we’d already been driving longer than I expected—or than I would’ve expected had I thought about it—I asked, “Where is Eternal Sun?”

It wasn’t one of the places I’d heard of nearby. And the men weren’t dressed in the proper suits some of the more secretive places wore.

“Las Vegas,” he answered. “You’ll love it.”

I doubt that.

I didn’t know how long that drive would be, and I didn’t bother to ask why we weren’t flying. Other than collecting their monthly allowance from their inheritances, my parents didn’t do anything that left a paper trail.

“How did you even find this place?” I asked Dad.

“When your mom and I went on our little retreat a couple of weeks ago. We followed a new path, and it led us there.”

Their little retreat took them across state lines while I stayed behind?

Yet I’m not surprised.

Other than the quick gas, bathroom, or snack breaks—always accompanied by the armed companions—we drove straight through. It was too dark to see much when the SUV slowed to a crawl outside of a tall wall before turning.

We continued up the winding road, and from what I could make out, my parents were right.

Eternal Sun was unlike anywhere else.

Rather than small shacks, dilapidated lodges, and a hodgepodge of communal outdoor furniture, it had sprawling gardens, a large fountain, and aged cobblestone. We slowed to a stop outside of a massive building with a glass front. A tanned man—also in linen—waited on the landing with others dressed similarly at his back. A woman in her late twenties waited in the doorway. Unlike the men, she wore leggings and a floral top, but her feet were bare.

But like them, she was grinning. Everyone was happy.

Too happy.

I guess I’d be all smiles if I looked like I just stepped off a cruise ship.

The back door was opened, and Mom climbed free without a moment’s hesitation. As did the driver and passenger. I didn’t follow. Not until my dad nudged me.

“Come on, Calliope girl. A new path awaits.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

And then he was gone, too.

Since outside with my family was better than being in the SUV alone, I reluctantly joined them.

“Blessed night,” the man greeted. “And welcome to Eternal Sun. We’re thrilled you’re finally here. A beautiful addition to our family.” His eyes landed on me. They didn’t linger. Not in the way some of the men at Family Keepers had begun to look at me. But there was still something… off about it.

Something that sent an unwarranted shiver up my spine.

“Just beautiful,” he murmured again before smiling wide as he scanned my parents. “You’ve had a long day. I’m sure you’re exhausted. We’ll do a proper tour tomorrow.” He stepped aside and gestured to the woman in the doorway. She hurried over, and he paused to whisper something to her before addressing the group again. “Tess will show you to your cabins so you can rest.”

The woman practically squealed with excitement as she rushed forward to us. “Blessed day. Well, night, but also day. It’s always invigorating when we get new friends. A true gift from the sun.”

And I thought I rambled a lot.

She led us to a small golf cart and took the bag I twisted in my hold. Setting it with my mom’s, she waited until we climbed in and began slowly driving. Lights that must’ve been on sensors flashed to life as we traveled a path that led through the lush gardens. She gave a mini tour, pointing out rare vegetation and what the buildings held.

How much work will I have to do here?

I miss my bees.

Once we reached a row of cabins of varying sizes that lined the outside edge of the garden, she parked to the side of the path and grabbed both bags. She climbed out and set one on the porch of a bigger cabin.

I climbed onto the step, but my arm was grabbed to stop me. I looked back at Tess.

She dropped her hold and jerked her head to the side. “This is your parents’ cabin. Yours is a few down.”

Kid bunk again? With any luck, there are others my age, and it’s not New Mexico all over again. I do not want to be left in charge of toddlers while their parents…

Yeah. No way.

“You good, Calliope?” Mom asked.

I didn’t have the energy to muster a lie or even a complaint. I just nodded.

“We’ll see you in the morning, babe,” Dad said, wrapping an arm around my mom as they walked inside.

I trudged after Tess, nodding politely as she animatedly talked. She stepped onto the porch of another cabin, that one much smaller. If there were a lot of other kids, I wasn’t sure how we would fit.

Hopefully, it meant there would only be a few roomies.

“Here you are. Your new home.” She swung the door open and stepped into the entryway of the surprisingly silent cabin.

Maybe they’re strict with bedtime.

Or the opposite and everyone is still out.

Her friendly expression stayed in place, but there was something sharp in the way she studied me. Like she knew I wasn’t happy. “Your layout is opposite ours, so your bedroom is on the right. There is a connected bathroom. The kitchen is at the back and leads out to the deck, but honestly, we rarely use ours. Meals together with other ES members are so much more enriching.”

“ES?” I asked, unsure why she was saying what sounded like the letter s .

“E and S. ES . Short for Eternal Sun. It’s what we call it casually, but not when we’re doing official teachings. If you need anything, my husband and I are two cabins that way.” She pointed before holding out the bag I hadn’t noticed she held.

“Oh, sorry. That’s my parents’ stuff, too.” Stupid tears burned again, and I was too exhausted to fight them. “I had to leave mine behind.”

Sympathy softened her face. “We’ll get you settled in the morning. Don’t even worry about it. Get some rest, okay?”

“Thank you.” Forcing a polite smile that I did not feel, I stepped aside so she could exit and close the door behind her.

I crept through the space toward where she said the room was. Truth be told, I was tired enough to sleep on the floor if I had to, but I was really hoping for an available bed. I opened the door.

One bed and a dresser, plus an open doorway that led to the bathroom.

That was it.

Wait, what?

Backtracking, I sprinted out onto the porch. “Tess!”

She turned from where it looked like she was on her way to drop the other bag with my parents. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Where are the others?” I asked.

She gestured around. “At home. Some might be having a swim or walking the grounds. There is midnight yoga that’s already wrapped for the night, but some like to linger and enjoy the centered feeling.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Of course, not all our members reside on the grounds. Some prefer their own homes and to visit for enlightenment and enrichment times. Why? Did you want to meet some of the others?”

“No, I just wasn’t sure where I should sleep. I don’t mind taking the couch, but I don’t want to invade someone’s territory.”

Her head tilted in confusion. “Calliope, this cabin is for you. Just for you.”

“What?”

“You were supposed to live with your parents, but Abraham felt like some space and privacy would be good for your family after that horrendous ordeal at that awful place you lived. Is that okay, or would you rather stay with them?”

“No! Yes!” I shook my head. “I mean, this is fine. Thank you.”

She smiled like she thought I was cute. “Blessed night, Calliope.”

“Right. Blessed night.”

I returned inside and closed the door to the silent cabin.

My cabin.

I hope we never have to leave.

I was wrong.

So very, very wrong .

I need to get the hell out of here.