Devoted to Destiny Read online




  DEVOTED TO DESTINY

  Book #5 of the Muse Chronicles

  by

  Lisa Kessler

  Devoted to Destiny – Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Kessler

  Google Play Edition

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Visit Lisa’s website: Lisa-Kessler.com

  Sign up for Lisa’s newsletter: goo.gl/56lDla

  Edited by Double Vision Editorial, Danielle Poiesz

  Cover design by Fiona Jayde Media

  Interior Design by – BB eBooks

  Vase Icon made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com is licensed under CC BY 3.0

  Manufactured in the United States of America First Edition January 2018

  Other Novels by Lisa Kessler

  The Muse Chronicles

  LURE OF OBSESSION

  LEGEND OF LOVE

  BREATH OF PASSION

  LIGHT OF THE SPIRIT

  DEVOTED TO DESTINY

  DANCE OF THE HEART

  The Night Series

  NIGHT WALKER

  NIGHT THIEF

  NIGHT DEMON

  NIGHT ANGEL

  NIGHT CHILD

  The Moon Series

  MOONLIGHT

  HUNTER’S MOON

  BLOOD MOON

  HARVEST MOON

  ICE MOON

  BLUE MOON

  WOLF MOON

  NEW MOON

  The Sentinels of Savannah

  MAGNOLIA MYSTIC

  Stand Alone Works

  BEG ME TO SLAY

  FORGOTTEN TREASURES

  ACROSS THE VEIL

  Dedication

  This one is for all the high school English teachers out there who encourage students to write their stories. Shout out to Mrs. Roisman who encouraged my love of writing and stoked my love of Greek Mythology as literature.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Other Novels by Lisa Kessler

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Acknowledgments

  Other Novels by Lisa Kessler

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Clio Clarke pulled into the parking lot of the future Les Neuf Soeurs theater and stopped beside a purple Fiat. She turned off the engine and checked her hair. She was meeting Trinity at the construction site for what her friend and muse sister thought would be a chat about the audio system for the theater. The truth was, Clio needed a favor—a place to live. With any luck, Trin would let Clio move into her spare bedroom.

  But Clio wasn’t primping for Trin. Their contractor, the only carpenter within a hundred miles who would work with them, saved her life when an inferno had decimated their theater eight months ago. She’d barely known him then, but he risked his life to save hers. Now he was rebuilding the framing that would soon become the walls of the Les Neuf Soeurs.

  He also had the body of a god and a Southern drawl that made her toes curl.

  She got out of the car and waved to Trinity, who was sitting by a makeshift worktable near the electrical breaker box. As Clio made her way over, she stole a glance at Mason. He winked, and she almost dropped her bag. He was watching her, too. Nah. No way. He just caught her stealing a peek at him, that’s all.

  She pushed her black-rimmed glasses up on her nose and smiled. “Hey, Mason.”

  He tipped his head, a dimple forming in his cheek. “Afternoon, Clio.”

  “Hey,” Trin called from the table. “We need to look this over while we’ve still got daylight!”

  Clio hurried to the table and tried to pay attention while Trinity talked about power requirements for the stage lighting, but every time she pointed from the plans to different points on the jobsite, Clio couldn’t help watching Mason. Between the distraction of Mason working shirtless, and Clio mentally crafting her pitch to move into Trinity’s place, she was having a tough time studying the plans for the soundboard and speaker system. At some point, Trinity’s voice became distant as Clio lost track of the conversation.

  Finally, Trin stopped pointing at the plans and lifted her head. “Is something wrong?”

  Clio flinched, snapping into the moment. “No, why?”

  Trin looked over her shoulder to where Mason was hammering behind them. “Maybe he can take a break so you can focus on this.”

  “It’s not that.” She held her breath until she had Trinity’s attention again. “I didn’t really want to meet about the sound system today. I just knew it would get you here on neutral territory.”

  “Neutral territory?” Trinity frowned. “Did I piss you off or something?”

  “No.” Clio shook her head. “Nothing like that, it’s just…” She took a breath. As the vessel for the Muse of History, social situations weren’t her strong suit. She just had to jump in with both feet. “I sunk all my savings into the theater.”

  Trinity nodded. “We all did.”

  “Yeah, but…” Clio gnawed on her lower lip. She was the youngest of the muses, but she’d been raised to be independent. Asking for help was like biting into a bitter lemon. “I’m still subbing at the high schools here, but it doesn’t pay quite enough to cover my rent. I know Lia just moved in with Cooper, so with my savings gone and our opening date delayed, I was hoping…”

  Trinity started to smile. “Are you trying to ask if you can have the spare bedroom at my place?”

  Ugh. Clio instantly regretted her neediness. “I was, but don’t worry about it. I can figure something out. Maybe I can find a cheaper studio.”

  Trin shook her head. “No way. You’re not finding a smaller studio. You’re moving into my place. You can have the spare room, and you’ll have a full kitchen and the guest bathroom.”

  “You’re sure?” Clio grinned. “I don’t want to impose.”

  Trinity chuckled. “We may not be blood sisters, but the gods made us muse sisters. If you need me, I’m going to be there for you.” She glanced at Mason and lowered her voice. “And I’ve got a good track record when it comes to sisters who stay in my guestroom… They seem to all end up finding their Guardians and living happily ever after. You could be next.”

  Clio followed Trinity’s gaze. Mason’s shirt was draped over a two-by-four as he wiped his brow, his muscles tense and slick with sweat. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Mason’s nice, but he doesn’t look at me like that.”

  Trinity’s eyes locked on hers. “Are you kidding? When you show up, you’re all he sees.”

  Heat crept up Clio’s neck into her cheeks. “I’m pretty sure I’d notice if that were true.”

  “Right.” Trinity rolled her eyes. “So when are you moving your stuff over?”

  “I’m month-to-month where I am now. If it’s possible to do it this weekend, I could pay you instead of my current landlord.”

  “Sounds great.” Trin scooped up the blue
prints and audio system specifications. “Then we can talk about this at my place when you’re not so—” she peered over at Mason and then back to Clio “—distracted.”

  Before Clio could reply, Trinity was heading for her car. “See you soon, Mason. Keep up the great work.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He marked a board and tucked his pencil behind his ear.

  He started to turn to his worktable, but he stopped and glanced at Clio. She smiled, taking a step backward when she bumped into something solid. She looked up as a large wooden beam started to fall. He raced over just as the beam toppled and caught it before it hit her. He bent his knees with a grunt, cradling the solid twelve-by-twelve beam in his arms, every muscle in his torso taut and gleaming in the sun. Clio’s eyes widened. That was definitely more than one guy should be able to lift. He was going to hurt himself.

  His voice was tight. “Can you do me a favor and grab the other end?”

  “Sure.” She hurried over, fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to lift it. Gripping the treated wood, she picked up her side. It wasn’t as heavy as she expected. He must’ve been shouldering most of the weight still. “Where are we taking it?”

  “Over to the table saw.” He led the way. “Watch out for the extension cords.” She stepped over the bundle of cords and stopped when he did. “Thanks, darlin’.”

  Her heart fluttered. “No problem.” She released her grip and moved back. “You’re a strong guy.”

  He shot her a crooked grin. “You inspire me.”

  Heat smoldered deep in her belly. Was he flirting with her? Too bad she sucked at that sort of thing. “Um, I guess I better get home. Looks like I need to start packing.”

  “You’re moving?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to be Trinity’s roommate until the theater opens.”

  He scanned the framing around the circular slab. “I wish I had more of a crew, but I’m doing the best I can to get y’all up and running.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” She shook her head, wishing she could reel her words back in. “Until I get my master’s degree, I’m subbing at some of the local high schools for history and theater classes.”

  “Pays about as well as construction, huh?”

  She chuckled. “Worse.” She went over to the worktable and retrieved her purse. “I guess I’d better get out of your way.”

  He smiled, that dimple in his cheek setting off butterflies in her stomach again. “You’re not in my way.”

  She cleared her throat, praying she wasn’t blushing. “I’ve got to pack anyway.”

  He pointed at his truck. “Need help moving this weekend?”

  “You don’t have to do that. I can rent a U-Haul.”

  “I know you can, and that I don’t have to,” he said. “But I’d like to help if you’ll let me.”

  Before she could stop it, she blurted out, “Why?”

  He pulled his hammer free from his tool belt. “We almost died in a fire together, Clio. I’d like to get to know you better.”

  She managed to keep from saying, Me? Barely. “I’d like that, too.”

  His dark-green eyes glinted in the bright sun. “Text me your address later, and I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  She nodded, a smile curving her lips. “Sounds good.”

  He got back to work, the electric saw deafening her ears, but his words kept replaying as she walked back to her car. I’d like to get to know you better.

  She wanted to pinch herself, but hell, if she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up.

  Mason Knowles turned off the saw as Clio pulled out of the lot. From the moment he’d met her, she’d been a distraction. She hid behind her books, but he caught her watching him sometimes. Did she feel the same attraction he did?

  Hell if he knew. He could barely get her to talk to him. At least she had agreed to let him help her move. Ever since he’d cradled her in his arms as he carried her out of the fire, he’d been aching for her. Daydreaming about a beautiful woman he had no business chasing was not going to get this theater rebuilt, though. He gripped the beam, straining to lift it again, but it wouldn’t budge. Being near Clio tapped into some well of inhuman strength inside him that he couldn’t seem to access without her nearby.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true. He’d tried other experiments when she was on the jobsite. The strength only seemed to kick in when his birthmark burned the way it had during the fire, or even a few minutes ago when she had bumped into the beam he needed to trim down a few inches. Both times she had needed him.

  He ran a hand through his hair. The final sizing on the beam would have to wait until Hunter and Reed came by to help in the morning.

  Mason cleaned up the site and then locked the security fence. He gave the area one last look. This theater was important to the evil nymph he’d been hunting since he had graduated high school.

  She wanted it decimated, so he would build it.

  He had no idea if Clio understood the significance of the theater or the danger surrounding it. Did she know the Greek muses were real and that the Les Neuf Soeurs would bring them to Crystal City in droves like a lighthouse in the darkness?

  If she knew the muses were real and living on inside human vessels, she never let on. In fact, no one in the group of co-owners ever mentioned the muses. When they talked to Mason, their focus was always on blueprints and specifications. If they had a grander plan beyond the theater’s name, they were doing a good job of hiding it.

  Mason knew all about it, though. His father’s ancestors weren’t really from North Carolina where he was born and raised. They had come from the Arcadian mountains in Greece, having sailed across the ocean to the new world more than a hundred years ago. They were descendants of an ancient royal line, the sons of the Greek ruler, King Lycaon. His family line had been cursed by Zeus himself. King Lycaon had doubted Zeus’s immortality, angering the ruler of Olympus. In his outrage, the God of Thunder had cursed the king and all his sons to shift into wolves—the original Lycans.

  Mason headed over to his truck and unfastened his tool belt. The change in weight around his waist always signaled the end of the day, his body reacting instinctively to the freedom. He set his tools in the box in the bed of the truck and slammed the door to the tool box closed.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and checked the screen for notifications. A familiar number appeared in his missed calls. He pressed “call” and waited. “It’s Mason. Got somethin’ for me?”

  “Did ya see the news about the girl attacked in the improv comedy club?” his uncle Matt’s gruff voice rumbled through the line. “The guy was wearin’ a gold mask.”

  Mason clenched his jaw. “I saw. It was a mask of Kronos. She can’t be far.”

  “Careful, boy. You’re on your own out there.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ve always been a lone wolf.” Mason chuckled. “Let me know if you find anything else.”

  “Will do.”

  Uncle Matt was the only person who knew about Mason’s personal mission to avenge his cousin’s murder, and while his uncle didn’t think Mason was completely nuts, that didn’t mean he believed Mason’s memories about the woman in the water either. Not that it mattered if anyone else believed. Mason knew what he’d seen, and the image of his cousin, Sadie, drowning haunted his nightmares. Even awake he could still see the terror in her eyes as she sunk into the murky depths of the water, not to mention the glowing eyes and stark-white teeth of the “woman” who had paralyzed her.

  He clenched his jaw at the thought. That nymph had killed his cousin, and while hunting the killer, his father lost himself to the Lycan curse, but the creature would pay for her crimes.

  Mason would see to it personally, no matter what Uncle Matt or anyone else believed.

  After they had lost Mason’s father to the curse, his uncle had stepped in, doing his best to help his mother raise Mason. She had no idea about their ancestral burden, though, and keeping that secret was the first thi
ng Uncle Matt had taught him. Mason hadn’t even known about his heritage until then. Uncle Matt had explained that his father had planned to tell him about his family legacy, about the curse flowing through his own veins, once he turned thirteen, but that one night had changed everything.

  When Mason was rescued from the lake stammering about a woman paralyzing his cousin, his father had been the only one who believed his story. Mason could still remember that final hug from his father. He told him to look after his mother and jogged into the woods. Mason learned later from his uncle, that his father had shifted and tracked the nymph’s scent as a wolf, but the pull of the curse claimed him. He couldn’t find his way back to his human form. In one night he lost his cousin and his father, forever.

  Mason sat behind the wheel of his truck and started the engine, his mind spinning. He’d seen the news reports about the recent attack at the improv club on television. He didn’t have all the details, but the victim was one of the women building the theater, Lia. She also happened to be his friend Cooper’s girlfriend. The press had reported that the suspect kept rambling about muses, but no one was taking him seriously. The media speculated that he was gearing up for an insanity plea. So for now, Bryce Carter, the knife-wielding suspect was still in jail, and Mason knew one person who might be able to get him inside. He just needed an excuse as to why he wanted to get inside.

  He scrolled through his contacts and pressed Nate’s number.

  “Detective Malone,” Nate answered after a single ring.

  “Hey, it’s Mason.”

  Nate paused, his voice tight. “Everything okay at the theater?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” Mason stared into the sunset. “Can I meet you someplace? I might have some information about the attack on Lia.”

  Nate didn’t hesitate. “Meet me at Bartlett’s in an hour.”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you there.”

  He hung up. He’d have just enough time to swing by his place for a shower, and then, with any luck, he’d be hunting Sadie’s killer. If his hunch was right, Nate’s suspect might be the only one who knew where to find her.