Hear No Evil: Book 27 in the Godhunter Series

by Amy Sumida

  “We don't have to do this now,” Thor said for the third time. His greenish-blue eyes were worried and his ozone scent sharpened.

  “Yes, we do,” I insisted. “Vero is fine where he is. Let's at least get our plan in place.”

  “I did some scouting,” Re shocked everyone by saying.

  “You did what?” I asked him with wide eyes.

  “I figured that would help, and I'm familiar with the area.” Re shrugged; the bright light in the dining hall glinting off his golden skin. “I'm the only one besides you who can remember being there.”

  Right; because Re shared my memories of the wrong future I'd corrected; the future in which Disani, Gish, and Qaus had abducted me and taken me to their hideout in Kabul. The Squad had decided that we would start there and search for the trio in the fortress they'd taken me to.

  “The fortress wasn't in the mountains,” Re went on. “I'd forgotten that we had to go into the desert to save you. It was Qaus who was in the mountains with ISIS.”

  “My mother?” Horus asked in surprise.

  “No,” Re said flatly as he gave Horus an annoyed look.

  Horus scowled.

  I hadn't noticed a familial resemblance between those two before. Not surprising since Horus is Re's great-great grandson; give or take a great. But when they frowned at each other, the similarities became clear. Horus had Re's luscious lips; he needed them to soften the rest of his sharp features. Horus has a nose that's practically a beak. Damn bird gods.

  “The terrorist group,” I clarified for Horus. “The Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, not the Egyptian Goddess.”

  “So, I found her fortress,” Re continued as if Horus' interruption hadn't occurred.

  It was kind of nice to have someone counter Horus' snideness so easily. The only one better at putting Horus in his place was his wife, Hekate.

  “And?” Hades asked Re eagerly.

  Hades had his usual sunglasses on, but I was betting that the fire raging behind the translucent brown of his irises had suddenly flared. The rest of his classic, Greek face had lit up enough for me to make the assumption.

  “I found Disani and Gish,” Re declared smugly; his metallic gold eyes gleaming.

  “No Qaus?” I asked.

  “No, but that doesn't mean he's not with them,” Re cautioned. “He could have simply been out.”

  “True,” I murmured.

  “I'm surprised you didn't go in alone and burn them to ash,” Azrael said to Re.

  Azrael was standing behind me. He tended to be more comfortable standing when he had his wings out. I made a narrow-backed chair for him but the tips of his feathers still pressed against the ground when he sat on it and they ended up bending. He could always put the wings away if he wanted to sit, but I knew that having them out made him feel more like himself. Plus; they were damn beautiful—midnight black and massive—and they made a stunning background for his elegant features and broad, muscular shoulders.

  “I would have,” Arach muttered.

  “I considered it,” Re admitted. “But if they've been killing Gods and taking their magic, they could be...”

  “More powerful than you?” Trevor smirked.

  “As you say.” Re grimaced. “I thought it best not to take the risk.”

  “Have there been any reports of missing Gods?” I asked Pan.

  I asked Pan, in particular, because Pan's father is Hermes, and Hermes runs one of the God Realm's newspapers; the Hermes Herald. Due to his inquisitive nature—his pushy, obnoxious doggedness—Hermes knows all the gossip and has loads of connections. Pan had asked his father to keep an eye out for missing person reports in the God World.

  “Several.” Pan went grim; his hazel eyes solemn. Not even his wild curls or his pointed chin could lighten the heaviness of his expression.

  The mere fact that Pan looked grim was enough to unsettle me. There was very little that dampened Pan's exuberance.

  “Gods have been disappearing from numerous pantheons,” Pan went on. “My father said that if it's the same gods who are abducting all of them, they're very cunning. They space out their attacks and abduct Gods from all over the world. There isn't anything linking the disappearances.”

  “So, no one would have noticed the disappearances as a whole unless they were specifically looking for missing Gods,” Thor surmised; his Nordic features squishing up in irritation.

  “Precisely,” Pan agreed.

  “I say; we all go to this desert fortress and kill these Gods together,” Brahma declared. He lifted his chin with its neatly maintained beard and grinned; the white of his teeth looking bright against his dark skin. “Let's finish this before it goes any further.”

  The God Squad nodded at each other. It wasn't as if there was a better option. We knew where our targets were, and we knew what they'd been up to; no good. We had to stop them as fast as possible.

  “All right; let's go to Kabul,” I confirmed. “Lemme just check on who can watch the children.”

  “Ah, the delights of parenthood,” Horus drawled. “You have to get a babysitter before you can save the world.”

  “I want one,” Hekate said simply.

  “A babysitter or the world?” Horus frowned.

  “A baby,” Hekate clarified with irritation.

  Horus looked at his wife in shock. “You do?”

  “Yep.” Katie narrowed her thickly-lined eyes. “But I'm not changing the way I dress.”

  I had seen Katie in that false future, and she'd been dressed like a soccer mom. I took great delight in telling her all about herself. Hekate's normal attire is Goth chic; purple hair, black clothing, a lot of lace, a lot of makeup, and a lot of piercings. Horus is the exact opposite; a sleek metrosexual man with a love for antiques and snide comments. Oh, and for Hekate, of course. I would give anything to see them have a child together.

  “Okay,” Horus whispered. Then he cleared his throat. “You really want a child?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well.” Horus nodded as if he'd made a business decision.

  “Well, that was so damn romantic that I can't stand it,” Pan said dryly and then grimaced.

  “Shut up or I won't make you our child's godfather,” Horus threatened.

  Pan started to smile in the most goofy way. “I'm shutting up!”

  “Godfather,” I snickered. “As in; literally.”

  Chapter Four

  My mother had to get back to her family in the Human Realm, but Fenrir and Emma offered to stay and look after the children with Samantha and Fallon. I traced my mom home and then hurried back to join the Squad. Several of my Intare were coming along as well; we wanted to make sure we finished this before it finished us.

  Honestly, it was nice to have my body to myself again; to be able to put on some normal clothes and walk around without waddling. I love my children, and I was thrilled to have Vero in the world, but pregnancy is not for me. Some women actually enjoy being pregnant, and if anyone should, it's me. I don't get a lot of the issues human women do—though there were some paranormal issues—and even labor has been relatively easy. Plus, I loved connecting with my children as they grew inside me. All that being said, I'd much rather have them outside of my body where I could kiss and hug them. And I'd much rather be able to wear jeans without an elastic panel sewn in the front.

  Okay, I'm done whining; onto Kabul.

  I kissed my children goodbye and took a quick cellphone pic of Fenrir holding Vero—his bulging muscles cradling the baby gently as he beamed down at his grandson—before I headed out with everyone. Trevor was actually having a harder time leaving Vero than I was, and I ended up telling him to stay behind.

  “No; I'm going with you, Minn Elska,” Trevor insisted. “I love Vero, but he's in good hands here and if anything happens to you while I'm not there to help defend you, I would never forgive myself. Let's go make the Realms safe for our son.”

  “All right, Honey-Eyes.” I kissed him long enough to make Ho
rus grumble and Pan hoot.

  Then we traced to Kabul; my men, the God Squad, twenty Lions, and me.

  It was surreal; being back in Kabul when I'd technically never been there in this timeline. I glanced over at Re and shared a commiserating look with him; he felt the same. But I didn't actually recognize anything yet. Re had taken a pic of the desert fortress with his phone when he was there scouting, and he showed it to all of us so we could use the image to direct our trace there. So, I did recognize the fortress from the picture, but that was all. When I'd been there before, in that screwed up future, I had been taken there after being drugged with Net. I'd woken up inside the fortress and then been rescued and had traced home. I'd never seen the outside.

  I hadn't missed anything.

  It was bleak. The best thing I can say for the scenery before me is that there was an interesting flat-topped mountain that served as a backdrop to the fortress and it added some relief to the stretch of sandy, monotonous dirt. Some deserts can be beautiful; they can have a rugged, alien appeal. Not this one. The landscape labored beneath an apathetic Sun whose pallid light did nothing to warm the stale tones of biscuit and wheat that swathed everything except the few scattered, stumpy bits of scrub. Even the fortress blended in with its background; its massive, square structures gathered around a central dome that should have been impressive but instead made me sigh in disappointment.

  “What a sad place to live,” I muttered.

  “There are better deserts than this one,” Re agreed.

  That was all the commentary we made time for and it was done during our hurried scramble up to, and then into, the fortress. The compound had no ward guarding it—very sloppy—so we just broke down the front door and strode in. My dragon-enhanced hearing picked up startled shouts and movement from deeper within the fortress, and I headed in that direction; Trevor and Re flanking me. Trevor was following the sounds too, and Re knew his way around.

  Memories of Re and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse—including my husband, Azrael; yes, he's that Death—busting through the ceiling-dome in the fortress' central room played out in my mind. They had looked awesome in the truest sense of the word; inspiring great awe. A group of avenging angels astride their terrifyingly beautiful steeds, riding those wingless horses through the air while a sun god floated down beside them on a ray of light. They, along with my other men who had entered at ground level, had obliterated Disani, Gish, and Qaus. Obliterated. But I had a feeling it wouldn't be quite so easy to handle them today.

  And just as a quick aside; I've never realized how silly it is that the Horsemen of the Apocalypse ride magical horses without wings—through the air—when they each had a perfectly good pair of wings to carry them around. Why even bother with the horses? But I guess then they wouldn't be horsemen; just angels. Perhaps they needed something to distinguish themselves from the rest of the Host. If they were the Angels of the Apocalypse, people would wonder which angels they were, in particular. But as horsemen, it was clear that it was those lazy angels who rode horses instead of flying into battle on their own.

  I was so going to tease Azrael about it later.

  Anyway, we found Disani and Gish in that same central chamber with the domed ceiling that the Horsemen and Re had broken through. It was just as I remembered; walls draped with fabric to resemble a tent, cream-colored marble floor covered by silk carpets, potted palms, Moroccan tables and lanterns, and pillows everywhere. The scent of incense hung sweet and thick in the air; coating my throat.

  Disani and Gish stood in the center of the room. Disani had her long, straight, ebony hair pulled back into a high ponytail that emphasized her stern expression. Her green eyes narrowed at me; their color bright against the darkness of her skin. Beside her, Gish was bare-chested, as he is every time I've seen him. The rainbow sling that held his quiver of arrows crossed his impressive muscles in a garish display that somehow worked for him. His visage matched Disani's but his glare hid behind his bow; an arrow already nocked into place and aimed at me. Yeah; neither of those two liked me much. But I was there to kill them so... valid.

  No words or taunts were exchanged. As soon as we stepped into the room, the duo attacked. I dove out of the way as Gish's arrow sped by me. Luckily, the rest of my team had been spreading out to the sides of the round room, and no one got hit. Then I was rolling; concentrating on my own survival. My war and victory magics kicked in to give me a little extra juice. I considered shifting into a dragon—the space was large enough to accommodate me—but I decided to start with my weredragon form.

  Scales undulated up through my skin as wings sprouted from my back and horns from my head. A deadly tail whipped behind me and even deadlier claws grew from my hands. I leapt into the air as the remnants of my clothes fell away and found Arach hovering beside me in his weredragon form. I smiled viciously at my husband as we swept in for Disani together.

  And got knocked back on our scaly butts.

  My Intare roared as Arach and I tumbled ass over teakettle—what the hell is that saying about, anyway?—and came to a stop in an embarrassing heap of flopping wings and tangled tails. Arach looked at me with such horrified shock that I burst out laughing.

  “This is hardly the time for laughter, A Thaisce,” Arach chided.

  “The look on your face.” I continued to chuckle as I got up. “You'd think you'd never taken a tumble.”

  “I haven't,” Arach growled as he started to shift. “And I never intend to again.”

  Oh, the gloves were off and so was the weredragon form. Arach was going full dragon. I decided to follow his lead. I'd like to see Disani try to knock two full-sized dragons off their clawed feet. Hell, if she could do that, I might just concede her the win and fly away.

  Arach roared a challenge, and I joined him.

  The building shook; dust shimmying down around us like heavy mist. Potted palms and tables went flying into the walls with the careless sweeps of our tails and Moroccan lanterns went crashing to the ground as we spread our wings. The fighting paused as everyone—our side included—stopped to stare at us in awe. Dragons will do that to you every time. It doesn't matter how often you see them; when one appears, you stare. It's primal; your lizard brain warning you that a much bigger reptile is on the scene.

  “You cannot defeat us!” Gish called out as he steadied his aim at Arach. “We have taken the magic of several Gods. Leave now or we will take yours as well.”

  “Yeah?” I lowered my dragon head; protecting my throat just in case those arrows could pierce dragonhide. “How did you do it? You don't have a magic that could help you take another god's power, Gish.”

  “But I do,” Disani snarled in a resonant voice. “I carry the souls of the dead, and someone showed me how to use that psychopomp power to take a god's soul and their magic.”

  I paused. Someone showed her? I'd assumed Disani was the one doing the showing.

  “Who showed you?” I asked casually.

  Disani laughed, her gaze sliding around the God Squad before she laughed even harder. What the hell was that about?

  “It doesn't matter; soon you'll be dead,” Disani declared confidently.

  The entire God Squad blasted her and Gish simultaneously. Gish held out a hand and a shimmering haze appeared around them. All the magic simply bounced away. Arach and I roared and lurched down, but even our claws and dragonfire were deflected. I shrieked in rage. The only plus was that the barrier seemed to work both ways; Disani had to hold back her attack while Gish defended them.

  “I got this.” Torrent waved us off as he stepped forward.

  Torrent is the God of the Internet. He has many talents relating to the Internet and computers but his most valuable power is an ability to unmake magic. Torrent can see magic like binary code and unravel it. He didn't even have to lift a hand; he just concentrated on the glimmering barrier. That was it.

  Disani and Gish gaped at Torrent as their crazy-strong ward simply fizzled out despite Gish pushing more and more po
wer into it. I fully intended to literally bite off Disani's head as soon as the ward fell, but everyone else was just as eager as I, and as I moved forward, several blasts of magic hit Disani and Gish simultaneously. I had to jerk back to stay out of the blast zone.

  Taken unaware, neither Disani or Gish moved to deflect the attacks or even strike out with their own. They both went flying backward to lay pinned beneath the continuous onslaught. Everything from thick vines to arcs of lightning hit the two gods, but it was Re who hurt them the most. Re and Horus, that is. Horus has bi-colored eyes but you don't notice that unless you get up close. His left eye has silver striations in its brown iris and his right has gold; representing the Moon and the Sun respectively. But it wasn't just symbolic; Horus' magic had been made to enhance Re's. He can amp up Sun and Moon magic in general, but his Sun eye—the Eye of Re—was specifically intended to magnify Re's magic.