The smile falters. Just like when you ditched school with Ainsley to liberate the lemurs at the Central Park Zoo. There were police involved. No upside. Besides, it was addressed to me. Lots of smart kids. You know. I mean, how much can any kid accomplish by age twelve?
The correct answer is. I go to Sweetbriar Montessori. I have friends! I have plans! I pick up the ceramic box again.
Daughter of Earth and Sky by Kaitlin Bevis - Read Online
She shakes her head ever-so-slightly. I put it down. I hate when she does this. I need you to be safe. So is loyalty bad? I think not. The Sweetbriar principal has called me a chronic user of poor judgment. For someone with a sharp tongue, I have a pathetically monosyllabic argument against boarding school. I shake the letter at my mother.
My creative self will be forever silenced. I cannot possibly go. And what sort of person wears marine life on her skirts? Wicked Witch of the West, Mom. Gone in a puff of smoke. The end of Abigail Hunter as you know her. She steamed. I hug my knees to my chest, the defensive posture of a hedgehog under attack. Mom looks me up and down. There are places I have to be and things that. Smith will challenge you and keep you focused. Give it a try. For me? I love my mother. But she also failed to mention she was sending me to boarding school in September.
Mom stands up. She paces the short length of my narrow bedroom, thinking. I hate the snow. Besides, Mom drives on icy roads the same way she drives on not-icy roads: fast and terrifying.
Wicked Omega (Persephone Smith Book 7)
The Costa Rican cloud forest? My heart races. The elusive victory is close, I can feel it. Mom puts her hands on her hips. A trickle of sweat runs down my back. We shake hands. Reading Group Guide. About The Author. Beth McMullen. Product Details. Resources and Downloads. More books from this author: Beth McMullen. And then he, or she, or whatever, it showed me all of these pictures, and I—.
Hades listened, worry giving way to confusion. Yeah, okay. He leaned down and kissed me. The connection between us flared to life, and all the images from my dream flowed to him. Gods married by exchanging power, and that created weird links in their minds. Hades and I had only exchanged a token amount to make the marriage binding, so our connection was limited to when we touched, but if we exchanged more, we could—.
I really wanted to relax into his embrace and just enjoy the kiss, but instead I turned my thoughts to an even worse topic. Charm could work like mind control if you used it right. I hate asking you this, but could you promise not to tell anyone anything about me? My promise was binding. Writing it down, pantomime, anything. Nothing worked, and trying made me feel like I was being ripped apart. I tried to slip thoughts of Thanatos through the kiss, but my mind rebelled at the idea, and I only managed to convey a troubled feeling.
He drew back. Just looked down at me, his hands resting on my shoulders. Then he jerked his head and cleared his throat, moving back to his chair. So who did that? What did it mean? I perched on the arm of his chair. I usually had a better sense of personal space, but Hades was the only thing in this room that looked real and solid. Staying close to him made me feel grounded.
I frowned, comparing the nauseating swirls of unfocused furniture coloring this room with my dream. Whoever sent that message put a lot of energy into making it feel real. He considers himself to be quite the artiste. A dark, mocking smile played on his lips. Hades nodded. From what I could gather from your dream, something is happening in two days at sunset on Cumberland Island. I can see what Poseidon wants, why he sent you that image. Yes, I do. A thought occurred to me. Can you? Leave the Underworld I mean?
For that long? How much time do you need to talk to your mother about leaving? My mother sat at the round wooden table, a forgotten cup of tea next to her as she flipped idly through a magazine. Her blond hair was pulled up in a messy bun. A few wisps of hair had escaped and framed her heart-shaped face. People said I looked just like her, but shorter. She turned another page in her magazine. Seeing her down here like this was so normal, so mundane, that the sight brought me up short and took me back to the time before I knew gods and goddesses existed outside mythology.
Before I knew my mother was actually Demeter and my father was Zeus. Before Hades. Or maybe I was just calmer because I was talking to my mom in our bright yellow kitchen. Yellow , I decided, is a good color. It made me think of the sun and warmth and spring. I felt safe in this kitchen.
There was something soothing in watching my mom move around the kitchen while she made me a cup of hot chocolate. It was in the high 80s outside, but in Georgia you drink hot drinks for the flavor, not for warmth. It was real, I finished, dropping the white rock on the table. When I woke up, this was in my hand. Try not to forget again. My temper flared up so fast it even took me by surprise. But that had been happening a lot lately.
I snatched the rock off the table and scooted my chair back. It squeaked in protest along the stone-tiled floor. Especially since you never told me to guard it in the first place. I kept trying to get over seventeen years of deception. That something was wrong with me. Mom rolled her eyes and handed me the mug of hot chocolate. Zeus lives? I squirmed in my seat. You never talk about him. I watched her closely as she poured herself a fresh cup of tea.
She seemed to be taking it well. I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. She set the tea down on the table. I do wish you had told me earlier. When Zeus sets his mind to something—. The truth dawned on me with a horrible certainty. You knew? Answer me! Did you know Zeus was alive?
Yes or no? Her green eyes cut to me with a withering mom-look. I laughed in disbelief. Not telling you about Zeus made me feel sick. I waved my hand. He is not your fa— The lie caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and exhaled, putting her fingers to her temples. Most gods are created, not born, so there are no genetic ties. Which in a way was good, because otherwise my marriage to Hades would be really weird.
And my dad. Maybe he wants to be more than nothing. The handle of the mug bit into my hand. She stiffened and leaned across the table, eyes wide. He sent Boreas after me. He wants me for something.
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The only thing he wants from anyone is to use them up and to throw them away. I nodded, my throat aching from holding back tears. I knew she was right. He would have. This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue? Upload Sign In Join. Save For Later.
Create a List. Summary ""Bevis has done a wonderful job building the worlds that the gods occupy as well as giving them a place in the modern world. Read on the Scribd mobile app Download the free Scribd mobile app to read anytime, anywhere. Daughter of the Earth and Sky It was just a simple visit to the world of the living—her world—with her husband.
Hades waited for me to offer him an explanation. ImaJinn Books was founded by Linda Kichline. We at ImaJinn Books enjoy hearing from readers. Visit our websites ImaJinnBooks. My mom, or my hot husband? Well that was a no-brainer. No, he died stripped of his divinity. I told him about the whole nightmare in a jumbled rush.
Hades blinked. Slow down.
He put his hands on my shoulders. Start again. And then he, or she, or whatever, it showed me all of these pictures, and I— Hades listened, worry giving way to confusion. Hades and I had only exchanged a token amount to make the marriage binding, so our connection was limited to when we touched, but if we exchanged more, we could— Why was I thinking about any of that while Hades was kissing me!
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Have you told. Thanatos had asked. Could he be working with Zeus? I took an inward hiss of breath. Thirty minutes? See you soon. My mother glanced up. Is something wrong? She lifted her chin. Start your free 30 days.