Goddess by Chance (Demi-God Daughters Book 2)

Evernight Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014 Erin Ashley Tanner

ISBN: 978-1-77233-107-3

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To everyone along the way who has encouraged me in the pursuit of my dream.

GODDESS BY CHANCE

Demi-God Daughters, 2

Erin Ashley Tanner

Copyright © 2014

Chapter One

“I swear I’ll blow her fucking head off. Everybody hands in the air, now!”

Arienne Alexandra Marcos raised her hands high above her head. Right now her shoulders were tight and the hair on the back of her neck crawled. Next to Arienne stood her co-worker, Lisa Moore. The petite brunette’s blue eyes bulged as a silver pistol was pointed straight at her forehead.

“Steve, please. Don’t do this,” Lisa asked.

“Shut up, Lisa. Shut the hell up.”

Arienne shifted her attention back to the red-haired man holding the gun in front of the counter. The tall, gangly man was Steve Moore, Lisa’s estranged husband. He was sweating profusely, and his eyes were bloodshot while the sickening smell of hard liquor poured from him in waves. Arienne wrinkled her nose at the harsh scent.
This is enough for me to make sure I never, ever think about drinking a sip of alcohol.

“This is all your fault, Lisa. You drove me to this,” Steve said.

Arienne glanced around the library. An overweight, black-haired white man wearing overalls and holding a sawed off shotgun stood stationed at the front library entrance. The dark green curtains were pulled over the windows, and the sign on the front door was turned around. The word CLOSED faced Arienne in bold, black letters.

Turning her attention back to what was in front of her, Arienne swallowed hard noting the brunet and dusky blond white men standing behind Steve Moore. They both held .22 rifles on the library patrons standing between them. Mothers hugged their infants close while the few male patrons tried their best to surround the women, shielding them from the guns. None of them looked prepared to take on the gunmen.
The library’s been taken over by deranged hillbillies, and we’re on our own. Time to put the magic to work.

“Steve, please think about what you’re doing. This isn’t going to end well for anyone,” Arienne said.

“Shut up, you fat bitch. This is between me and my wife.”

Steve turned the gun on Arienne, and her heart accelerated.
Try again, Arienne.
She took a deep breath. “This stopped being between you and Lisa when you decided to hold us all hostage.”

“I didn’t have a choice. She wouldn’t return any of my phone calls or let me see my daughter.”

“Our marriage is over, Steve,” Lisa said in a weak tone.

“It’s not over. I still love you, and I know you love me. Please, Lisa.”

“You cheated on me, and you were abusive. That’s not love.”

Poor Lisa. She probably never imagined her husband would go this far.
Lisa’s bangs were plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her weepy, red rimmed eyes were stretched. Body trembling, the poor woman was likely to faint at any moment.
All right, Arienne, stop stalling. You know what you have to do.

“I made mistakes, Lisa, but things will be different now. I swear.”

“No, they won’t. Let me go, Steve.”

“Never.”

Steve’s finger slid towards the trigger. The hairs on Arienne’s arms rose as she watched him jerk a frightened blonde teenager from the crowd of hostages. The brown eyed girl started to scream.

“Shut up or I’ll be the last thing you see,” Steve warned her.

“What are you doing, Steve? Let her go,” Lisa said.

“Agree to give us another chance or she dies.”

Arienne gasped. Things had gone far enough. Hands still raised, she slowly eased from behind the white laminate counter. “Steve, don’t do anything rash.”

“I thought I told you to shut up. Get back behind the counter.”

Steve pointed the pistol at Arienne’s chest. Ignoring the way her knees shook, Arienne kept eye contact.

“I can’t do that. Lisa is my friend, and right now she’s scared, too scared to say anything more. Talk to me, Steve.”

Arienne slowly advanced closer.

“You want one of us to shut this darkie up?” the blond hillbilly asked.

Nothing like a down home racist.
Arienne rolled her eyes. “I’m African-American, Dominican, and Greek. I’m not a darkie, asshole.”

“Why you little—“

“Shut up, Greg. Let’s see what she has to say. Now talk,” Steve said waving his pistol.

Here it goes.
Arienne took a breath. “Steve, I know you’re hurting, and I know you miss Lisa. You guys have been married for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Five years.”

“Five years is a long time for anything, much less a marriage. So not only have you managed to get past the newlywed crash, but you also have a beautiful little girl.”

Just a little bit longer.

“Leanne looks just like her Mama. I love ‘em both so much.”

“I know you do, Steve, but think about what will happen if you go through with this. If you hurt this girl or any of us, Lisa and Leanne will never see you again and I know that’s not what you want.”

“I just want my family back.” Steve’s voice cracked. 

“Hurting other people won’t bring your family back together. You need help to do that, and I think I can help you, Steve. Please, let me help you.”

“Don’t listen to her, man. She’s jerking your chain.”

“Shut up, Ralph.”

“Don’t be a fool, Steve. Stop wussing out,” a voice said from behind Arienne.

It was the hillbilly with the sawed off shotgun.

“I’m running this show,” Steve told them.

“No, you’re not.”

Greg, the blond gunman turned his shotgun towards Lisa, pumped it, and pulled the trigger. Arienne pushed Lisa to the ground. They fell hard. Arienne covered her friend with her body.

“You tried to kill my wife. You bastard.”

The sound of gunshots filled the air.

“Lisa, are you hit?”

“No. No … you saved me. How did you move so fast?”

Arienne ignored the question. “Lisa, I want you to stay down. I’m going to see what’s going on.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise,” Arienne said, slowly rising.

At least I hope so.
Crouching so that her eyes were above the countertop, Arienne looked around. There was no sign of Steve or Greg. The other two gunmen, Ralph and Mr. Sawed Off Shotgun stood with their backs to her. The library patrons were in the line of direct gunfire.

“Enough of this. We’re in charge now, and if all of you don’t keep quiet until we get out, some of you are not going to make it out alive,” Ralph said.

Creeping from behind the counter, Arienne remained crouched. The man with the sawed off shotgun was directly in front of her. Slightly to the left of him was a dark-haired male patron. Arienne caught his eye. She raised her finger to her lips and nodded towards the gunman. The patron nodded in understanding.

Rising to her full height, Arienne took a step and bum-rushed the man holding the shotgun. The weapon flew from his hands as they fell to the ground. Arienne watched as the male patron caught the gun and trained it on the man underneath her.
Oh shit. What about the other one?
Still lying on the gunman, Arienne turned to her right. She breathed a sigh of relief. A tall woman with a spiky pink do stood over Ralph, holding his own gun on him. The blonde teenager Steve had been holding kicked the downed gunman in the ribs.

“Let me help you up, Miss. We’ve got him.”

Arienne looked up. An older African-American man with salt and pepper hair offered his hand.

“Thank you,” Arienne said as he helped her up.

“You’re a real tough lady,” the man said.

“I had to do something or they would’ve escaped and been free to terrorize more people.”

Looking past where Ralph was being held, she finally noticed the two bodies lying on the ground. Arienne quickly made her way over. Blood oozed from a gunshot to the head. It was Greg. He was dead. A foot away from him was Steve. Blood poured from a wound in his chest. Bubbles frothed from his mouth. Arienne kneeled down beside him. His bloodshot eyes sought hers.

“Li-Li-Lisa.”

Arienne nodded. “Lisa. Lisa. Hurry, Steve’s hurt.”

As she sat next to Steve, he coughed, and more pink froth flew from his mouth.

“Oh Steve,” a voice said from behind her.

Arienne rose to her feet and moved away. Lisa kneeled down beside her husband. She took his hand.

“I … had to,” Steve gurgled.

“To what?” Lisa asked.

“Protect you.”

Steve jerked his head to where his former friend lay dead.

“Thank you.”

Steve smiled at his wife. “I … love you. Tell my … little girl…”

Steve closed his eyes. His chest no longer moved.

“Steve. Steve.”

Dropping his hand, Lisa fell back and struggled to sit up as sobs erupted from her throat. With tears in her own eyes, Arienne sat down on the floor and pulled Lisa into her arms.

“It’s over now,” she said.

Holding her crying co-worker, Arienne barely glanced up as uniformed officers flooded the library. Lisa had just had her world turned upside down. She would never be the same, and neither would Arienne. Though she and Lisa had never been friends, death was the one thing that bonded everyone.