Chapter 16
Savannah had no sense of time or space, or anything really. Tucked safely in her sacred space, she was at peace. Waves cascaded onto a pristine white sandy beach, a gentle breeze caressed her skin, and all around her was silence. But something scratched at her subconscious mind. Something was not right.
She jolted up at the inane cackling of someone in the distance. I know that laugh, but how?
Her head twisted around one way and then the other, searching for the source of the disturbance. “Is someone there?” A part of her pleaded for there to be no answer.
“Savannah.” A trill voice called to her across the water. “Oh, Savannah! How long I’ve waited to meet you, my dear.”
A smoky mist appeared and floated across the water. Once on land, it slowly started to take shape. First, long legs with delicate feet emerged, leaving tiny footprints in the sand. Then the rest of a woman’s voluptuous body appeared with curvy hips, a slim waist, bountiful breasts, slender arms, a graceful neck, and a beautiful, yet disturbing, face with silver eyes and ebony hair. The woman’s lips were curved up in a warm smile that did not reach her dead eyes. The sheer white gauzy material that draped over her body did little to cover her assets.
Savannah wanted to look away but couldn’t. It was like coming face to face with the popular image of the ancient seductress queen of Egypt, Cleopatra. But she doubted the long-dead queen had ever exuded such evil as the being in front of her did.
The woman was just a few steps away when Savannah regained her own mind. She threw up her hands, intending to blast whatever this was with all the light energy she could muster, but nothing happened. Nothing.
An almost-childlike giggle escaped the woman. “My child, you are powerful, but no match for me. But I can show you how to hone your powers, strengthen them, and become the goddess you were always meant to be.”
Savannah blinked heavily. Once. Twice. The strange woman was still standing in front of her. For a moment, she’d prayed it was simply a mirage. This was her sacred space beach. How had this whack job gotten in?
“What the hell are you talking about, lady?” She was shocked that despite everything, she didn’t feel any fear. Annoyance, yes. Irritability because someone dared to intrude into her private sanctum, yes. But no fear.
“My dear…” The woman extended her arms as if she was going to embrace her.
Savannah stepped back and stretched out her hands in front of her again. Still no light blast, but at least it could serve as a physical barrier between them. “Stay away from me, crazy eyes.”
The woman’s full lower lip pouted like a four-year old child denied candy at Halloween. “That’s impossible, my dear.”
Ugh! The endearment sent ice picks through Savannah’s nerves.
“We can never be separated. We are one and the same. Or did you really think you were tucked away safely on a deserted island? Your subconscious can travel anywhere, but so can I. Anywhere you go, I go. For we are one.” She took another step forward.
This time, Savannah backed away a couple steps. “You’re insane.”
A maniacal giggle burst from the crazy lady’s lips, circled in the wind, then wafted out to sea. “Yes, yes, I am. But I am so much more.”
Wake up, Savi. Get yourself out of this.
“No, my dear. You cannot awake. Not unless I command it. Unless you start paying attention, and show proper respect, you will be truly alone here forever.” Her hands waved around her, gesturing to the clear water, sand, and cloudless sky above. “A perfect replica of your so-called sacred space, is it not?”
Suddenly, the sand, water, and sky melted away to reveal blackened granite boulders, a murky turbulent river, and a sky of fire. The salty crisp of the warm breeze turned into the odor of new asphalt, topped with the oppressive heat of being up close and personal with the Steamboat Geyser in Yellowstone.
“How do you like your new digs, my dear?”
More blinking… this time to clear the ashes getting stuck in her eyelashes. “What the hell?”
More crazy laughter from the unhinged woman in the sexy sheath with a thin gold strap over one shoulder holding it all up. “My dear, not what… where. Or at least on the road to it. We’re closer than you think.”
Savannah felt her mouth drop open, but no words would form. Hell. If this bitch was to be believed, she was in—or at least close to—Hell. And not in the figuratively speaking sense.
“Oh, don’t fret. It’s not like Hell can hold us.” She strolled over to a large, smooth boulder to sit down, patting the space next to her. “Come, girl. Sit down. We have much to discuss.”
Shaking her head so fiercely that her hair whipped her own eyes, Savannah replied, “No, thanks.”
“Have it your way, my dear. But you might as well rest while you can. We have lots of work to do and you’ll need all your strength.” She raked her long, pointed fingernails up and down her arms then turned her hands over to inspect her nails. “My dear—”
“Cut it out with the my dear crap!” Savannah snapped. She hated pet names to begin with, but somehow this thing uttering the words made the endearment seem twisted. “Just tell me what you want.”
Within the span of a single blink, the woman who had just previously been ten feet away at least was now nose-to-nose with her. Shimmering silver eyes bore into her own, and a dark energy pushed its way into her head. Icy breath fanned her face with just a hint of belladonna.
“I suggest you show me some respect, my dear. You may be my flesh and blood, but I have slaughtered countless of the same. While waiting another millennia for a descendant worthy of attention would be disappointing, I assure you I will not hesitate to do so again.”
Trembling, Savannah willed herself to hold her ground. Between clenched teeth, she spit out, “Who are you? And what the fuck do you want from me?”
The woman’s hands shot up and shoved her down. Savannah’s butt slammed onto a smaller, but thankfully smooth, stone. “Pay attention, my dear. It’s time for your first lesson.” She waltzed away. Her hips dramatically swooshed from side to side with the hem of her sheath dress playing catch up. “First, my name is Manea. I am the Goddess of the Dead, Mother of Ghosts, and—more importantly—your mother.”
A pit opened in Savannah’s stomach, wanting to pull her away from this situation and this obviously insane woman. A goddess? Okay, maybe. Definitely not as depicted in public school mythology classes, but she had long ago realized the little amount of actual knowledge imparted from textbooks. Goddess of the Dead? Sure, the whacked bitch could certainly pull that off. It was the last part that screamed, No! That was too ridiculous to comprehend.
Her mom had been a drugged-out hippie who’d lived in a commune with other drugged-out hippies and had fallen into the clutches of the big bad main drugged-out hippie who abused all the women. It wasn’t until Mom escaped—rather she had been arrested and forced into rehab—that she’d discovered she was pregnant with Savannah. Every man that waltzed into her mom’s life had served as stepdad or the too-handsy “Call me Uncle Bob,” until she’d run away.
A goddess was not her mother. And judging by the bizarre energy coming off this so-called goddess, her mom had been super stable June Cleaver.
“Lady, you may be a goddess or some other twisted, evil entity, but you’re not my mother. So, let’s be straight with each other and stop the games.” She barely recognized her own voice. It seemed far off in the distance, not coming from her own lips.
“Savannah… Of course, I’m your mother. Do you really think that addict who raised you for a few measly years could have given birth to such a special, beautiful, gifted woman? Actually, the word woman doesn’t even fit. You’re so much more, you have to know that. You’re part goddess yourself.”
She drew her legs up onto the rock she was sitting on. Despite the lunacy of her words, the energy Savannah felt wafting over and through her hinted at some truth.
“How?” It took all her strength to utter the one-word question.
Manea grinned broadly. “While your dear pretend momma was in that ridiculous commune, I needed a vessel. Your hipster dad wasn’t just a drug dealer taking advantage of the young women. He summoned me one night in a hallucinogenic haze. At first, I thought to smite him and the entire hoard around him. But he was quite the hottie and had just the right amount of insanity and charisma I craved. You see, being married to the God of the Dead isn’t all moonlight and magnolias. He’s a cheating ass who has never been able to keep his hands, or his cock, to himself. Why, there are so many of his demigod bastards running around, you could fill a professional football stadium with them. And they’re all crazed, narcissist jerks—just like their father.”
The pit in her stomach grew. Soon, it would swallow her whole if this tale kept on.
“So, technically, the woman you knew as your mother did birth you, but she had no familial claims on you. Even she knew that from the beginning, especially when I speared your father with the very ritual stick he summoned me with just as he climaxed. Oh, it felt so”—she licked her lips—“scrumptious.”
Savannah desperately needed to vomit, but only bile rose from her gut. She wanted to scream that this was all lies, but she knew. She clawed at her throat, begging for words to blast the truth to dust. “So, you’re aiming for Mother of the Year now or something? Want to take me on a mom/daughter shopping spree to New York? What do you want?”
Instantly, Manea stood over her. Her fingers brushed Savannah’s hair out of her eyes and tucked a strand behind her ear. “My dear daughter. I’ve come to give you the keys to the kingdom. Together, we shall rule over not just the dead, but the living.”