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All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Selena Kitt

The Mating of Rebekah © 2008 Dakota Trace

eXcessica publishing

All rights reserved

The Mating of Rebekah

By Dakota Trace

Prelude

The Sixth Century, Aricia, Italy

Salvador the Archer was desperate. His family was starving. His wife was dead and his daughters were at death's door. He knew what he was doing was wrong-he would be put to death if he was caught-but he had no choice. I can't listen to them cry another night. So here he was in the sacred grove of Aricia with his quiver and bows, intent on the buck in front of him. He pulled the arrow into position and lined up his shot. Please forgive me but I must have food for my daughters. He sent the prayer heavenwards as he released the bow, his arrow flew straight and true before finding its target. The buck let out a cry of pain then fell to ground. Scrambling to the fallen animal, he never saw the woman appear where he had just been crouched.

“Who dares defile my sacred grove?”

Salvador stopped. This is it, they will surely die now. He turned to face the angry goddess.

“I.” He lowered his head in submission.

“Foolish human! All animals of this grove are under the protection of Diana, the Goddess of Hunt.”

“Yes.” The man trembled before her.

“Why have you done this?”

“My daughters are starving, Goddess.”

Diana observed the man. She had felt his desperation and regret. Placing a hand on the man's bowed head, she searched his memories. What she found pleased her.

“Rise Salvador the Archer. You will make me an offering for this trespass.”

“What do you want?” The man visibly trembled.

“Your daughters. If you will poach from my grove for them, then they are worthy to serve me.”

“My daughters?” Tears filled the man's eyes.

“From here on, the daughters of the line of the Archer shall serve me. Swear it.”

He nodded, saddened. They are so innocent, who will protect them?

“I will protect my disciples.”

* * * *

The Twenty-first century, The Midwest

“I have a mission for you, Child. There are plans for an attack. You must stop it.”

“Stop what? Who's going to be attacked?”

“There's going to be a mass possession. The demons are planning one to take place on All Hallows Eve. You will join forces with your mates and stop it from happening.”

“Did you say mates? As in plural?”

“Don't question your Goddess, Rebekah!”

“Yes Mistress. How stupid of me. How will I recognize my mates?”

“They are close and as your mating approaches you will know.”

Part One: The Summoning

Iowa, present

Rebekah Archer knelt in front of the altar on the hardwood floor of her meditation room. She was the thirty-first generation of her family to serve the Goddess Diana. She was amazed her line had served the goddess for so long, as it was a risk laden job. Many women of her family had given the ultimate sacrifice while serving the elusive goddess.

It was not an easy sacrifice make. In return for their service, the goddess had gifted each woman with an inner huntress, an animal protector who bonded physically and emotionally to each woman. I don't need Diana to tell me how close the huntress is. I can feel her presence stirring even now. And she's hungry. When the mating comes this time, there will be no denying her as I have in past years.

Tucking her ginger hair behind her ears, she finished her adulation before standing. She winced as her left knee protested. It had been giving her grief since the early cold snap that had swept over Iowa, turning all the leaves to their glorious fall colors.

When she left her meditation chamber, she smiled absently at the man sitting on her love seat. His ebony hair shone softly in the light. As usual, he had it pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his strong neck. She often thought he and his twin looked like struggling musicians and not the private investigators they were. Although tall, both men were built much like runners, lightly muscled physiques, long legs and a fluid stride, which lately made her think of nothing but carnal thoughts.

"I didn't hear you come in, Jason. Where is Dustin?" She limped farther into the living room and paused by the love seat.

"He'll be here in a few. Had some last minute paperwork to take care of." She nodded, at ease with the thought Dustin was in the building they called home. They had renovated the building into living quarters and an office. The two brothers' living quarters were on the opposite side of the building with the office between her quarters and theirs.

"Okay. Just make yourself at home and I'll be out shortly." She tightened the sash that held her robe closed, never once guessing Jason would have loved to see what was under it. Jason swallowed roughly as he watched her enter her room and close the door behind her. He gripped the arm of the love seat and fought not to follow her. Damn this attraction, I have to get it under control. I can't afford to lose control.