The Triple Goddess

  The Triple

  Goddess

  Afterlife Saga

  Book 3

  By

  Stephanie Hudson

  Kindle Edition

  Other books by Stephanie Hudson

  Afterlife Saga

  Book 1 Afterlife

  Book 2 The Two Kings

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to my great uncle, Sapper Joseph H Close of Royal Engineers Corps, who gave his life for his country at Arnhem in September, 1944.

  “The time was now and with this war men will fight,

  Holding themselves strong and gifting the Country with all their might”

  ‘This is my Time’

  In the distance I heard the call,

  The enemy’s coming, get down all,

  And slowly I move, my mind going numb,

  But my limbs are quick and my body not dumb.

  I duck, I dive and I reach for cover

  The men must be following, I think as I recover,

  I take a minute amongst the fighting,

  To wish myself back in the barracks sat down writing.

  I think what I would say to all whom I love,

  To all I hold dear and far from the bombs above,

  But to wish myself anywhere but here’s not enough,

  For I am a soldier above and beyond all of the rough.

  So through all the smoke, bullets and raining debris,

  I think of my family and brothers of three,

  My two sisters at home waiting to hear,

  Anxiously worrying and praying for the all clear.

  But as I stand here now hearing the cries of others,

  I know I won’t be coming home or seeing my brothers,

  But what would I say and ask of them all,

  Please look at my death as a man unable to let his Country fall.

  “For all the courageous men and women who serve their country,

  May their sacrifice help to bring Peace and Freedom to the world in which we live”

  Chapter 1

  Flight of Fears

  My new life was born in the sky high above the world, riding along waves of a calm atmosphere where clouds were the only sight to see and now...well, it only seemed fitting that my death would begin the same way.

  It may seem a tad dramatic but when sat opposite Death himself, it was hard to see any other outcome. I had been in the plane for hours now without any shining, heroic attempt of a rescue being made and my hopes for such had plummeted along with all other ideas of surviving.

  The silvery head of hair that kept catching the sun's rays flashed in my peripheral vision and was becoming harder to ignore. Who would have thought that Death would have had kind and handsome features? He reminded me of some typical ageing businessman who had a big white house, complete with picket fence, golden Labrador and a loyal wife baking cookies in a country style kitchen. Someone that went fishing in a small boat on the lake at weekends with his son before coming home with the catch of the day to cook on a grill for the family feast.

  “As quaint and perfectly idyllic as that picture portrays I do, however, hate boats and get quite seasick.” My head whipped up to see the man himself staring at me with a soft expression and his head cocked to one side as though studying me for more visions on what I believed would have suited this man more than that of the gruesome truth.

  “How did you see that?” I asked, opening my mouth for the first time since leaving the airstrip in Portland.

  “Ah well, although it is clear, my dear, that you possess a most extraordinary mind, it is quite easily accessible when such turmoil and despair enters one’s state of thought. I find you like an open book, only one I wouldn't wish to read...no, no...far too depressing.” He closed his eyes and shook his head as if to emphasise this point.

  “Well, please excuse my manners, how terrible of me to be thinking things as depressing as my death and never seeing the man I love again when I should what?...be thinking of happy little unicorns racing over golden hills under rainbow covered blue skies...how inconsiderate of me!” I said, laced with sarcasm. I am sure somewhere deep down I should be cowering in fear from my plane journey with Death, but for some reason I just couldn't find the point, let alone the energy.

  “Oh my dear, please do call me by my name, Death sounds so very dreary.” At this my mouth actually fell open, cartoon style.

  “My name is Carrick, young one and I don't see where you get this notion of your end being so near.”

  “Are you joking?” I almost found myself screaming or laughing hysterically, either one I think would have been acceptable conduct for such a conversation.

  “Where I am taking you is not to your grave but most likely to your destiny.” At this I snorted.

  “I don't think so, you’re taking me to Lucius, right?” He nodded at my question.

  “Then you are escorting me to my end just like any other poor soul you encounter.”

  “And what makes you so sure?” I kept expecting Mr Death Carrick to keep losing his cool but for someone who was in charge of taking life, I was very surprised at how chilled out a guy he was.

  “Well, the last time I saw Lucius we didn't exactly play checkers and sip iced tea!” At this he laughed heartily, throwing his head back making the sun dance in silver streaks, almost like a halo.

  “Well let me be the one to assure you, your life is not on my books and Lucius will need you quite alive for him to accomplish his plan.”

  “And that being?” I raised my hand and made little circles as if this might help to prompt him to elaborate.

  “Oh no, my young one, it is not for me to say but I will go as far as to promise you this, for if the Gods wish your safe return to their instrumental son Dominic Draven, then no Vampire King and his growing army will prevent such an action from taking place.”

  “Then what on earth would he want with me? I mean it's not like he can defeat the Gods, then why even bother trying?” This conversation was draining my mental ability to stay calm. I mean, here I was, ripped away from my life, with the only notion that my death was all that was left to follow, filling my every thought and the man in front of me telling me what?...that I'm not on his bloody books! Like life and death was just another number for an accountant to consider. I bet tax season was a riot for this guy.

  “These are questions beyond my pay grade, so to speak. But have no fear, if Lucius wanted you dead he would have commissioned me so.” I couldn't believe that at this he actually smiled at me as though this was a comforting thought. I shook my head at him in disbelief.

  I took his silence for what it was, nothing more to be said on the matter, but one thing was for sure, I was secretly shitting myself for what was to come next. If there was one man in this world that scared me more than my past psycho stalker Morgan then that was the Vampire King, Lucius. Weeks of endless nightmares mixed with a very gruesome crescendo, which I foolishly allowed myself to think was the end of my torment, was to be a constant reminder of Draven's arch nemesis.

  However, every attempt to get to me had been crushed by Draven's protective nature...that is, up until now. No, no, now I was on my way to become a puppet in the man's attempts at getting back at my boyfriend. Oh, course it would have helped my situation if I had been forewarned what it was exactly that the two had been feuding over all these years. All I knew was that Lucius wasn't the King’s first name or life for that matter. He began his existence as one of Jesus’ disciples and his name was what the common world knew as the meaning of betrayal.

  Judas.

  The very mention of this name can be used to hurt or dismiss the one that has wronged us in some way. History has taught us many valuable lessons in life b
ut not all are to be believed in the ways in which they are written. As a huge history buff I was used to relying on the evidence, but after being thrown into the supernatural world of the Dravens I soon learned that everything has its place in the world and its importance for those who rule our lives yet can't be seen.

  Judas played such a part, being the important role of wrongly accused conspirator in Jesus’ death. Draven described it best once, in which the memory of a great man outlives that great man. Jesus asked one of his most faithful followers to help him accomplish his wishes and that of his Holy Father. Of course word of Judas’ compliance and not his betrayal never found its way to the other disciples as it should have done. Nothing could have prevented what came next in the way of his most brutal death, but the renouncing of his faith by dying, sun cracked lips was what altered his afterlife by the hands of a very different god.

  Bitterness carried into his next life for all things that were once his strengths, his life and his worshipping faith, now lost in a hateful vengeance for the Gods themselves for what he believed was his betrayal. In a way, although difficult, I felt sorry for him, all things considered. He started his life a man as any other, only to let the all-consuming hate twist and grow with the power within him. After all, he and Draven had once been friends and coexisted, often working together but now, well that was another matter entirely and one I knew very little about. For some reason Draven not only neglected to tell me any details of these events but outright refused. So here I was now, with only Death for company in the name of Carrick and a stomach that felt like it had been pumped with lead.

  Carrick kept noticing the way I would wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans but thankfully refrained from commenting. I think if he would have told me not to worry again I would have pulled some hair out and thrown it at him in a full out hissy fit. He might think that no harm would come to me but he didn't remember in detail the last nightmare Lucius bestowed on me and the everlasting mark of the most painful experience of my life. Think flesh melting from bone and molten lava replacing the blood in my veins and you would have some small concept of why such an event remained firmly embedded in the darkest corner of my brain. And that was only a dream! Now of course, I was to meet the man and to think of what hell he could put me through, how much could my body endure and how far would he take his new instrument of revenge? I wondered what state my body and my mind would be in if I was ever to make it back to the arms of my Dark Knight.

  A shell of myself, was all my thoughts could conjure.

  “That is quite enough my dear!” Carrick spoke, bringing my mind back to the present.

  “You will be a mere shell before I even get you to my employer if you carry on with this despair.” I merely shrugged my shoulders and said,

  “I already am, without Draven.”

  “Ah young love, or for Draven a lifetime in waiting, how sad it is to have lost you now after only a short time.” I couldn't believe he actually looked sad for my situation. His eyes met ones of disbelief and then turned cold in a heartbeat.

  “I am not without feelings, young one and I can only sympathise to your future but if you think now is bad then you have very little idea of what is in store for one that is chosen. He cannot save you from your fate nor can he prevent it playing out, like the dawn brings the light and the dusk brings the night, for a son of the Gods knows this. But you are not only young and human but also ignorant of the ways of our world and that does you no favours.” I actually wanted to say “Well durr!” but refrained.

  “So if you’re not without feelings and can sympathise then why not let me go?” Ok it was a long shot but what did I have to lose?

  “I am afraid your safety on getting you to Lucius is all I can provide. Once my blood is given in bond then my life also is in the hands of my employer. If I was to fail then my life would be given in return for the life I am commissioned.” This was said so matter of fact I snorted.

  “But nice try,” he said, laughing to himself.

  “So what you’re trying to say is that I should just give up, is that it? Just resign myself to the inevitable, is that what you would do Carrick, just lay down and give up?” I was getting angry now and worked up, to the point that my hands made their way into fists and my nails penetrated the skin on my palms.

  “Not at all dear one, my you are feisty indeed, much suited to a King such as Draven. I merely stated that given the inner strength you surely possess, you should rise above fear and never lose faith in the extraordinary gifts you have been blessed with. After all, they will save your soul more than once I am sure of it. Keep your mind locked firmly shut out to those who wish to control it and you will find you hold more power than even that of the man you so deeply love. Heed my advice young one and take it with you if nothing else of our time together.” At this I lost all my anger like a deflating balloon in the hands of a child. I had nothing else to lose but a lifetime of understanding to gain. It seemed to me that the advice of this man was the most important I was ever to receive in my life and I was not arrogant or stubborn enough not to see it for what it was....a warning.

  So, with this in mind, I did what I knew was the only thing in my power to do, I blocked my mind off to the world. I built not only walls keeping out any intruders but a mental fortress. I spent what felt like a great deal of time picturing my mind as some priceless artefact that needed castle walls ten feet thick and when that didn't feel enough I would place the most important emotions inside a locked vault made of pure titanium, this was where Draven would be safe and nothing else mattered.

  “Ah peace at last, you have done well dear one, your mind is nothing but a blank and to one of my kind that is quite rare indeed.” At this I actually found myself smiling. It felt a bit like getting praise from a teacher or a pat on the head from your father for cleaning your room.

  “A drink to celebrate,” he said, motioning a stewardess with his hand, who I had quite forgotten was even on the same plane. She was like every other flight attendant I had seen, dressed in a tight navy blue suit with a blood red neckerchief tied firmly in place around the slim column of her swan like neck. Hair pulled back into a twisted roll held there by what could have been magic for all I knew as not a clip or grip could be seen. And to top off the generic similarities, a killer smile covered in thick glossy red to match her perfectly manicured nails.

  I felt like doing anything but celebrating but as the tray was placed before me after Carrick had helped himself, I felt somewhat compelled to accept his hospitality. After all, better to be on the good side of the devil you know than the devil you don't. I took the champagne flute, the lower half of which was in the design of a metal spine and the glass held by the ribcage, I shuddered at the thought of how I had seen Carrick in his true form as a master of death.

  It was hard to think that the man sat so casually in front of me now, had the ability to strike fear into the most courageous man at just one second of insight to how he truly looked. Death, you imagine to be cloaked in black from head to foot, long staff held in the icy grip of a fleshless hand, with most of the horrors thankfully hidden. But some think what is concealed is more frightening than knowing, that one’s imagination is scarier than the truth the eyes see...

  They would be wrong.

  Carrick… a walking torture that you prayed wouldn't be taking you to a place where he had once walked and been subjected to the horrors that had resulted in his ghoulish appearance. For what could have caused half his body to start decaying before the rest I do not know nor do I ever wish to, but I will never forget the taste of bile that rose upon seeing it. Half a black cloak, hooded to hide his face only instead looked more like an oily second skin of burnt plastic. It had molded to a powerful frame of solid shoulders, down to bulging biceps and hands that could crush skulls with very little effort, but that's where the flesh ended and a bloodied skeleton continued. How only a twisted spine could hold so much without added muscle and tissue I couldn't fathom but the truth remain
ed and his immense power was a testament to the fact. He had brought the mighty Ragnar, my Viking protector, to his knees, something I didn't think possible. And in order to save his life I had given myself to Carrick as a willing soul for him to take far, far away from the one man who owned that soul.

  Dominic Draven.

  As my mind had wandered to only hours ago I saw that we seemed to be descending through the cloud bank. My heart instantly raised a couple of notches at the thought that my journey was coming to an end, to be handed over to the one person I didn't want to ever meet.

  “Are we landing?”

  “Shortly yes, but do not get yourself in a flurry, try and relax, I assure you the champagne is the best of the region, you should try it.” He nodded to the glass that remained untouched and in a tight death grip, from my thoughts.

  I looked down at the golden liquid and saw a sad reflection staring back, so without further prompting I gulped it down to the last drop. Carrick at least looked satisfied and turned back to the window to watch our descent. Meanwhile, as if being on standby, the stewardess came hurrying past to collect our empty glasses and returned back to remain unseen somewhere on the plane.

  My grip, now without my glass, had turned to the thick leather armrests that held my body snug to the lazy boy style chair. If not for the circumstances that brought me to my first encounter of the luxury of a private jet, then I would be enjoying this flight. However, no matter how comfortable my butt was, I couldn't help trying to will the ground to get smaller instead of bigger. The patches of urban jungle were getting closer until soon the tiny insects running along strips of grey were seen to be cars on motorways, making their way in life. That's when my vision started to blur slightly, as if a heavy night of drinking was finally catching up with me.