The Goddess Test Boxed Set Read online

  All four titles of the Goddess Test novels in one exciting collection!

  The complete GODDESS TEST saga—THE GODDESS TEST, GODDESS INTERRUPTED, THE GODDESS INHERITANCE and THE GODDESS LEGACY. Kate Winters had gone from a girl whose mother was dying to the Queen of the Underworld. Join Kate on her life-altering journey and meet the powerful, compelling gods who test her every step of the way.

  The Goddess Test Boxed Set

  The Goddess Test

  Goddess Interrupted

  The Goddess Inheritance

  The Goddess Legacy

  Aimée Carter

  Table of Contents

  The Goddess Test

  Aimée Carter

  Goddess Interrupted

  Aimée Carter

  The Goddess Inheritance

  Aimée Carter

  The Goddess Legacy

  Aimée Carter

  “The prize is immortality,” Henry said.

  “It’s not something we give out lightly, and we need to make sure it is something you can handle.”

  I felt a cold block of ice form in the pit of my stomach. So my choices now were to live forever or die trying. Somehow it didn’t seem fair.

  “You will do well,” Henry said. “I can feel it. And afterward, you will help me do something that no one else is capable of doing. You will have power beyond imagining, and you will never fear death again. You will never grow old and you will always be beautiful. You will have eternal life to spend as you wish.”

  But would I have my mother?

  Advance Praise for

  THE GODDESS TEST

  by

  Aimée Carter

  “A fresh take on the Greek myths

  adds sparkle to this romantic fable.”

  —Cassandra Clare, New York Times bestselling author of

  the Mortal Instruments series

  “Enchanting and compulsively readable,

  The Goddess Test twists classic myth and modern storytelling

  into a fun, whimsical shape. A great story for teen girls.”

  —Melissa Anelli, New York Times bestselling author of

  Harry, A History

  THE GODDESS TEST

  AIMÉE CARTER

  For Dad, who has read every word.

  You were right.

  And in memory of my mother.

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1: EDEN

  CHAPTER 2: AVA

  CHAPTER 3: THE RIVER

  CHAPTER 4: THE STRANGER

  CHAPTER 5: THE EQUINOX

  CHAPTER 6: EDEN MANOR

  CHAPTER 7: THE IMPOSSIBLE

  CHAPTER 8: AVA’S RETURN

  CHAPTER 9: THE BALL

  CHAPTER 10: THE FIRST TEST

  CHAPTER 11: FAILURE

  CHAPTER 12: JAMES

  CHAPTER 13: CHRISTMAS

  CHAPTER 14: JUDGMENT

  CHAPTER 15: POISON

  CHAPTER 16: THE RIVER STYX

  CHAPTER 17: DEATH

  CHAPTER 18: THE OFFER

  CHAPTER 19: THE COUNCIL

  CHAPTER 20: SPRING

  GUIDE OF GODS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  “How did it happen this time?”

  Henry tensed at the sound of her voice, and he tore his eyes away from the lifeless body on the bed long enough to look at her. Diana stood in the doorway, his best friend, his confidante, his family in every way except by blood, but even her presence didn’t help rein in his temper.

  “Drowned,” said Henry, turning back to the body. “I found her floating in the river early this morning.”

  He didn’t hear Diana move toward him, but he felt her hand on his shoulder. “And we still don’t know…?”

  “No.” His voice was sharper than he’d intended, and he forced himself to soften it. “No witnesses, no footprints, no traces of anything to indicate she didn’t jump in the river because she wanted to.”

  “Maybe she did,” said Diana. “Maybe she panicked. Or maybe it was an accident.”

  “Or maybe somebody did this to her.” He broke away, pacing the room in an attempt to get as far from the body as possible. “Eleven girls in eighty years. Don’t tell me this was an accident.”

  She sighed and brushed her fingertips across the girl’s white cheek. “We were so close with this one, weren’t we?”

  “Bethany,” snapped Henry. “Her name was Bethany, and she was twenty-three years old. Now because of me, she’ll never see twenty-four.”

  “She never would have if she’d been the one.”

  Fury rose up inside of him and threatened to bubble over, but when he looked at her and saw compassion in her eyes, his anger drained away.

  “She should have passed,” he said tightly. “She should have lived. I thought—”

  “We all did.”

  Henry sank into a chair, and she was by his side in an instant, rubbing his back in the sort of motherly gesture he expected from her. He tangled his fingers in his dark hair, his shoulders hunched with the familiar weight of grief. How much more of this was he supposed to endure before they finally released him?

  “There’s still time.” The hope in Diana’s voice stabbed at him, more painful than anything else that had happened that morning. “We still have decades—”

  “I’m done.”

  His words rang through the room as she stood still next to him, her breathing suddenly ragged and uneven. In the several seconds it took for her to respond, he considered taking it back, promising he would try again, but he couldn’t. Too many had already died.

  “Henry, please,” she whispered. “There’s twenty years left. You can’t be done.”

  “It won’t make a difference.”

  She knelt in front of him and pulled his hands from his face, forcing him to look at her and see her fear. “You promised me a century, and you will give me a century, do you understand?”

  “I won’t let another one die because of me.”

  “And I won’t let you fade, not like this. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  He scowled. “And what will you do? Find another girl who’s willing? Bring another candidate to the manor every year until one passes? Until one makes it past Christmas?”

  “If I have to.” She narrowed her eyes, determination radiating from her. “There is another option.”

  He looked away. “I’ve already said no. We aren’t talking about it again.”

  “And I’m not letting you go without a fight,” she said. “No one else could ever replace you no matter what the council says, and I love you too much to let you give up. You’re not leaving me any other choice.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  She was silent.

  Pushing the chair aside, Henry stood, wrenching his hand away from her. “You would do that to a child? Bring her into this world just to force her into this?” He pointed at the body on the bed. “You would do that?”

  “If it means saving you, then yes.”

  “She could die. Do you understand that?”

  Her eyes flashed, and she stood to face him. “I understand that if she doesn’t do this, I will lose you.”

  Henry turned away from her, struggling to hold himself together. “That is no great sacrifice.”

  Diana spun him around to face her. “Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare give up.”

  He blinked, startled by the intensity in her voice. When he opened his mouth to counter, she stopped him before he could speak.

  “She will have a choice, you know that as well as I do, but no matter what happens, she will not become that, I promise you.” Diana gestured toward the body. “She will be young, but she will not be foolish.�
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  It took Henry a moment to think of something to counter her, and when he did, he knew he clung to false hope. “The council would never allow it.”

  “I’ve already asked. As it falls within the time limit, they have given me permission.”

  He clenched his jaw. “You asked without consulting me first?”

  “Because I knew what you would say,” she said. “I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you. We’re all we have, and without you—please, Henry. Let me try.”

  Henry closed his eyes. He had no choice now, not if the council agreed. He tried to picture what the girl might look like, but each time he tried to form an image, the memory of another face got in the way.

  “I couldn’t love her.”

  “You wouldn’t have to.” Diana pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But I think you will.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I know you, and I know the mistakes I made before. I won’t repeat them again.”

  He sighed, his resolve crumbling as she stared at him, silently pleading. It was only twenty years; he could make it until then if it meant not hurting her more than he already had. And this time, he thought, glancing at the body on the bed once more, he wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes either.

  “I’ll miss you while you’re gone,” he said, and her shoulders slumped with relief. “But this will be the last one. If she fails, I’m done.”

  “Okay,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Henry.”

  He nodded, and she let go. As she walked to the door, she, too, looked at the bed, and Henry swore to himself that this would never happen again. No matter what it took, pass or fail, this one would live.

  “This isn’t your fault,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself. “What happened—I allowed it. You aren’t to blame.”

  She paused, framed in the doorway, and gave him a sad smile.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Before he could say another word, she was gone.

  CHAPTER 1

  EDEN

  I spent my eighteenth birthday driving from New York City to Eden, Michigan, so my mother could die in the town where she was born. Nine hundred and fifty-four miles of asphalt, knowing every sign we passed brought me closer to what would undoubtedly be the worst day of my life.

  As far as birthdays go, I wouldn’t recommend it.

  I drove the whole way. My mother was too sick to stay awake for very long, let alone drive, but I didn’t mind. It took two days, and an hour after we’d crossed the bridge to the upper peninsula of Michigan, she looked exhausted and stiff from being in the car for so long, and if I never saw a stretch of open road again, it’d be too soon.

  “Kate, turn off here.”

  I gave my mother a funny look, but turned my blinker on anyhow. “We’re not supposed to exit the freeway for another three miles.”

  “I know. I want you to see something.”

  Sighing inwardly, I did as she said. She was already on borrowed time, and the chances of her having an extra day to see it later were slim.

  There were pine trees everywhere, tall and looming. I saw no signs, no mile markers, nothing but trees and dirt road. Five miles in, I began to worry. “You’re sure this is right?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” She pressed her forehead to the window, and her voice was so soft and broken that I could barely understand her. “It’s just another mile or so.”

  “What is?”

  “You’ll see.”

  After a mile, the hedge started. It stretched down the side of the road, so high and thick that seeing what was on the other side was impossible, and it must’ve been another two miles before it veered off at a right angle, forming some kind of boundary line. The entire time we drove by, Mom stared out the window, enraptured.

  “This is it?” I didn’t mean to sound bitter, but Mom didn’t seem to notice.

  “Of course it isn’t—turn left up here, sweetie.”

  I did as I was told, guiding the car around the corner. “It’s nice and all,” I said carefully, not wanting to upset her, “but it’s just a hedge. Shouldn’t we go find the house and—”

  “Here!” The eagerness in her weak voice startled me. “Right up there!”

  Craning my neck, I saw what she was talking about. Set in the middle of the hedge was a black wrought-iron gate, and the closer we got to it, the bigger it seemed to grow. It wasn’t just me—the gate was monstrous. It wasn’t there to look pretty. It was there to scare the living daylights out of anyone who thought about opening it.

  I slowed to a stop in front of it, trying to look between the bars, but all I could see were more trees. The land seemed to dip in the distance, but no matter how I craned my neck, I couldn’t see what lay beyond it.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Her voice was airy, almost light, and for a moment, she sounded like her old self. I felt her hand slip into mine, and I squeezed hers as much as I dared. “It’s the entrance to Eden Manor.”

  “It looks…big,” I said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as I could. I wasn’t very successful. “Have you ever been inside?”

  It was an innocent question, but the look she gave me made me feel like the answer was so obvious that even though I’d never heard of this place, I should have known.

  A moment later, she blinked, and the look was gone. “Not in a very long time,” she said hollowly, and I bit my lip, regretting whatever it was I’d done to break the magic for her. “I’m sorry, Kate, I just wanted to see it. We should keep going.”

  She let go of my hand, and I was suddenly keenly aware of how cool the air was against my palm. As I pressed the accelerator, I slipped my hand back into hers, not wanting to let go yet. She said nothing, and when I glanced at her, she was resting her head against the glass once more.

  Half a mile down the road, it happened. One moment the road was clear, and the next a cow was in the road not fifteen feet in front of us, blocking the way.

  I slammed on the brakes and twisted the wheel. The car spun a full circle, throwing my body sideways. My head hit the window as I fought for control of the car, but it was useless. I might as well have been trying to get it to fly for all the good I was doing.

  We skidded to a stop, miraculously missing the tree line. My pulse raced, and I took great gulps of air, trying to calm myself down. “Mom?” I said frantically.

  Beside me, she shook her head. “I’m fine. What happened?”

  “There’s a—” I stopped, focusing on the road again. The cow was gone.

  Confused, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a figure standing in the middle of the road, a dark-haired boy around my age wearing a black coat that fluttered in the breeze. I frowned, twisting around to try to get a proper look out the back window, but he was gone.

  Had I imagined it then? I winced and rubbed my sore head. Hadn’t imagined that part.

  “Nothing,” I said shakily. “I’ve just been driving too long, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

  As I cautiously urged the car forward, I looked in the rearview mirror one last time. Hedge and empty road. I gripped the wheel tightly with one hand and reached out to take hers again with my other, futilely trying to forget the image of the boy now burned into my brain.

  The ceiling in my bedroom leaked. The real estate agent who’d sold us the house, sight unseen, had sworn up and down there was nothing wrong with it, but apparently the jerk had been lying.

  All I did after we arrived was unpack the essentials we’d need for the night, including a pot to catch the dripping water. We hadn’t brought much, just whatever could fit into the car, and I’d already had a set of secondhand furniture delivered to the house.

  Even if my mother hadn’t been dying, I was sure I’d be miserable here. The nearest neighbors were a mile down the road, the whole place smelled like nature, and no one delivered pizza in the small town of Eden.

  No, calling it small was being generous. Eden wasn’t even marked on the map I’d used
to get here. Main Street was half a mile long, and every shop seemed to either sell antiques or groceries. There were no clothing boutiques, or at least no place that would ever carry anything worth wearing. There wasn’t even a McDonald’s, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell—nothing. Just an outdated diner and some Mom and Pop store that sold candy by the pound.

  “Do you like it?”

  Mom sat curled up in the rocking chair near her bed, her head supported by her favorite pillow. It was so worn and faded that I couldn’t tell what color it had originally been, but it had survived four years of hospital stays and chemotherapy. Against all odds, so had she.

  “The house? Yeah,” I lied, tucking in the corners of the sheet as I made her bed. “It’s…cute.”

  She smiled, and I could feel her eyes on me. “You’ll get used to it. Maybe even like it enough to stay here after I’m gone.”

  I pressed my lips together, refusing to say anything. It was an unspoken rule that we never talked about what would happen after she died.

  “Kate,” she said gently, and the rocking chair creaked as she stood. I looked up automatically, ready to spring into action if she fell. “We need to talk about it sometime.”

  Still watching her out of the corner of my eye, I tugged the sheet down and grabbed a thick quilt, arranging it on the bed. Pillows soon followed.

  “Not now.” I pulled the covers back and stepped aside so she could crawl in. Her movements were slow and agonizing, and I averted my eyes, not wanting to see her in so much pain. “Not yet.”

  Once she was settled, she looked up at me, her eyes red and tired. “Soon,” she said softly. “Please.”

  I swallowed, but said nothing. Life without her was unfathomable, and the less I tried to imagine it, the better.