Light of the Sky (Of the Gods Book 2)

by Gina Sturino

  A rush of air flapped around my hair, thrashing against my face. Fear engulfed every nerve, momentarily paralyzing me.

  Are you sure you want to do this? It is going to hurt. On this journey, you will not have the powers of the gods, no knowledge of the divine. You will wake some memories of your mortal past; bits and pieces that may confuse you. Ultimately, your soul shall decide what is revealed to help you choose your path.

  The familiar words echoed in my head, along with images of Lucille—her cobalt-blue eyes round with worry, her strawberry-blond hair illuminating under a brilliant sun.

  I don’t know how much time you’ll have, Novalee, but I hope you find the answers and closure you need before they find you.

  A bolt of lightning split the black sky, bringing another echoing wave of words and images to my blinded eyes. The land quivered from thunder. I grasped blindly, clutching handfuls of soil as I inched along the ground. Loose sediment slipped through my fingers like the sands of time through an hour glass.

  I’m out of time.

  My body no longer felt earth beneath me as I stumbled over the edge, tumbling through the air as another bolt lit the sky.

  Bright, vivid flashes blinded my retinas and burned my veins. My limbs flailed. Wind whipped my cheeks. Lightning illuminated the sky. My whole world seemed to turn on its axis, shuddering and pulsating. Twisting and roaring. I screamed, but it was drowned out by the cracks of lightning that echoed with another sound. An earsplitting caw. A noise so loud it nearly shattered my ear drums.

  I hope you choose the destiny you deserve… the destiny you deserve… the destiny you deserve…

  I was falling… falling… falling.

  Deafeningly loud, blindingly white… then darkness.

  Thirty

  “I had a terrible nightmare.” I opened my eyes to find the overhead fan spinning. Rolling to my side, pain shot between my temples. My fingers flew to the scar at my forehead, now feeling fresh and open. I shifted to sit. Sand and sediment crunched beneath my bare skin.

  Dane stood next to the patio door with his arms crossed over his chest. His grim eyes met mine. Feeling another presence, I barely had the energy to twist my head toward the fireplace. A familiar figure stood in a similar pose.

  “You?” I croaked. “What are you doing here?”

  Liam, the strange man from the night at Bar Continental, didn’t need to answer the question directed toward him, because in that instance I knew. Neither man said a word, nor did they make any effort to move. My gaze shifted back and forth until I finally closed my eyes. The pain at my temples exploded as memories flooded my head.

  When I’d met Liam before, I had glazed over the strange aura that surrounded him, a dichotomy of light and dark, life and death. In the divine world’s hierarchy, Liam held a position of immense power, an angel that could exist in both the divine and mortal world. Called presiders, his kind oversaw the gods that walked among the mortals.

  “I’m not ready,” I whispered, unsure whether my proclamation was directed at Liam or myself. “I need time. Lucille said I’d have time until my soul chooses its path. Why are you here if it’s my choice?”

  Dane spoke, his voice low and commanding, his eyes hard and unyielding. “You’ve earned a reward. Why would you turn away the ultimate prize?”

  “Dane,” I whimpered. “You were there, the night of the accident.”

  “It shouldn’t have gone this far.” Dane looked at the carpet and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have taken it this far. But now your eyes are open, and you can see humanity for what it is. I’ve opened your eyes.”

  Dane’s dark disposition, the dangerous edge I had recognized when first meeting him, now made sense. The man I’d fallen in love with was a hunter, an outlaw, recruited to track gods defying their fate.

  “You and I…” My proclamation died on dry lips. I couldn’t finish the sentence. You and I are real. I lifted my eyes to meet Dane’s, but his stony features held no trace of warmth, no kindness.

  No trace of love.

  Pieces of my heart—the pieces that had swelled over the last few weeks spent with him—began to deflate, shrinking along with my resolution.

  Liam exhaled, running a hand through his sandy brown hair. “You’re naïve, Nova. Blinded by humanity’s temptation. See this world for what it is. Understand all that you’d give up.”

  “It’s ugly; it hurts. It’s filled with abuse and despair.” Disgust thickened Dane’s voice.

  Half gasping, half sobbing, I took a breath of sordid air. “What are you saying? Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s my job,” Dane said quietly. “Look at me. I’m a hunter. You’re a god questioning your destiny, teetering on the edge, heading in the wrong direction. Thinking with human emotion, human reasoning. You can’t trust a human heart to make a divine decision. Do you see where it leads you? Weak, broken, so easy to deceive.”

  Were the last several weeks a farce, a way to show me the corruption and deception of humanity? Push me to choose divinity?

  A way to bring me—a fallen god—to accept my fate?

  “I can feel your heart breaking, just as I can feel your anger, resentment, hurt. Pain that feels like its tearing a hole through your soul. End it, Nova. Say the words, and it all goes away. You return to your rightful place. The rest of your existence will be perfect. You stay, and this is what you’ll get. The dysfunction of humanity. You’ll get people like me.”

  “No,” I sobbed, covering my face with my hands.

  “It’s true.” Dane jammed his hands into his jean pockets and looked down. “I’m sorry I took it too far. But it’s true.”

  “Go. Just go!” My muffled cries were barely discernible. I didn’t hear Dane’s footsteps, or the door open and close, but I knew he was gone. My soul felt his abandonment like a pacifier ripped from a baby’s mouth.

  My hands remained over my eyes as I rolled over, smooshing my face into the pillow to stifle my sobs. Could it be true? Dane, a hunter? Had I finally found what I thought I’d been searching for—a future, a family—only for it to be based on a lie?

  My soul ached, my heart wept—the dysfunction of humanity too raw and real. Why would I choose this ugly world? Dane was right. If opening my eyes was his job, he’d done it to perfection.

  Eventually, my cries subsided and my breathing evened. I shifted, sensing I still wasn’t alone.

  “You too. Leave,” I croaked.

  “It shouldn’t have happened like that.” Liam pushed from the wall he leaned against.

  “I said leave.”

  “Dane is impulsive. He will be reprimanded.”

  “Reprimanded? For showing me the truth?”

  “You’re evading the inevitable, Nova.” Liam watched me as he walked to the door. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

  “Liam?” I asked, and he paused with his fingers clenched around the door knob. “Was any of it real?”

  Liam’s voice softened with sympathy. “He’s a hunter, Nova. You want to deny your fate, renounce your place in the Kingdom. Dane showed you the truth of humanity. It’s fickle, it’s selfish, it’s painful. How can you trust your heart to make this most consequential decision when it can be so easily deceived? Why give up the chance for perfection? Peace comes and goes here, one moment bliss, the next devastation. For every virtue, there is a vice. Is this what you want?”

  For weeks, I had allowed Dane into my life, into my heart, and into my soul. But I was a job to him. An assignment. A god refuting her fate.

  And he was the hunter, sent to show me how easily human emotion is manipulated. A mission to bring this fallen god back to face her destiny.

  “I don’t know what you were looking for—closure with Neal? A fascination with human emotion? I’ve walked with the mortals for a long time, Nova, but I still remember the beauty of the Hark. I can’t begin to describe the glory of the Kingdom. Choose carefully. You have until sundown. My winged messengers are watching.”


  The door clicked behind Liam as he let himself out.

  After finding the strength to get out of bed, I searched for my cell phone, but quickly realized I had left it at Neal’s apartment. I desperately needed to talk to him but wasn’t sure I’d be able to retrace the route to his apartment. And I couldn’t wait until tonight when he’d be playing at the Broken Board Café. I only had until sundown.

  Wracking my frantic brain, I remembered Neal’s plea. You need to talk to my friend, she’ll help you. You need to talk to Josie soon, before they come sniffing.

  Still dressed in sand-matted, muddied clothes, I flew out of the room and down the three flights of stairs. The door to the lobby had been propped open, allowing the salty breeze to blow freely into the room. I was inside, palms planted across the reception desk, before calculating what I’d say.

  Josie stepped through the door marked “Private” with a sad smile, as if waiting for me.

  “You knew all along?” I whispered. “How could you let me go with a hunter?”

  “Oh, darling, it’s come back?” she asked.

  “My memories?” My voice still low, I took a step back from the desk and considered her question. My finger traced the scar at my temple. “Some of them.”

  “Only the memories that will help lead you on your path, help you find closure so you can move on,” Josie said. Her lip turned up in a mischievous smile. “Sexy lot, aren’t they? All dangerous and dark. Although, it certainly feels weird referring to Dane as sexy. He’s grown into a fine young man.”

  “You know each other?”

  “He probably doesn’t recognize me. Different era back then. I went by Fi, but he called me Auntie. Dane was raised in these parts by his uncle. Looks like he’s turned into the gentleman I always knew he’d become.”

  My eyes burned with tears. “He’s a liar, and, and… a hunter.”

  “He’s helping you.” Josie tilted her head.

  “I was a mission,” I said softly.

  “Maybe you were. Maybe you still are. But it doesn’t change the fact that that boy is in love with you.”

  If my heart wasn’t hurting so badly, Josie referencing dark, dangerous Dane as a boy would have struck me as funny. Instead, my heart seemed to ache even more.

  “Dane’s story is his to tell, but I’ve known him since he was a young walker.”

  “A walker?” I asked.

  “A walking god raised here, among the mortals instead of in the Hark. Jake cared for him.” Josie hesitated, blowing out a puff of air before holding up her wrist. “Jake is the reason for this.”

  “What does it mean?” I asked as I slowly brushed my fingers over the trio of freckles at my collarbone.

  “Many walking gods complete their mission. Some fail. Some are given new missions. Some live out their existence in the Hark. Some are offered a place in the Kingdom. Some reject it. Fall from grace.”

  “You’re a fallen god?”

  “Maybe that’s why Dane brought you here. Maybe he does remember. I don’t know.” Josie smiled gently. “There are not many of us that bear the mark. If you make the decision to fall, the mark will remain. A forever reminder, like a tattoo.”

  Now, my fingers moved from the freckles at my collarbone to the Celtic knot on my thigh. Two marks that held a part of my story. “I saw Neal last night. What’s happened to him?”

  “Everybody’s story is their own. He’ll need to tell you. And Dane too. I can’t speak for them.”

  “Well, what about you? Why did you give up everything?” I spoke without thinking, and from the sudden shimmer in Josie’s eyes, I knew the question struck a chord.

  “Love, of course. Is there ever any other reason?” She motioned to one of the two chairs in front of the fireplace. “I know your time is precious, but please sit for a minute. I can’t tell you their stories, but I can tell you mine.”

  After sinking into the cushion, Josie nodded toward the fire, which crackled and sizzled. My eyebrows shot up. “You still have powers?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “After I fell, I was stripped of a home in the Hark. I can no longer transcend the boundaries, but I still have divine energy. Not as strong of course. My life is among the mortals now. It’s a tradeoff I suppose.”

  “Why did you choose this?” I waved my arms around.

  “I’ve been here for almost one hundred years.” Josie looked down to her lap. Her hands fidgeted with the smooth, thin material of her grey flowy skirt which had been paired with a black tank top displaying toned arm muscles. She had a firm, young body of a thirty-something year old. “I was sent from the Hark to help a Sky god, a young goddess who had lost her way. During my time here, I fell in love. When it was over, I couldn’t leave.”

  “Wait, the man who raised Dane, Jake—he was your love?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. Sadness passed over her face. “Not was, is. He will always be my love. In the meantime, I wait.”

  “Meantime? Where’s Jake now?”

  “He’s in the Land, unable to transcend the boundaries. It’s his punishment for our transgressions. Someday, though, I hope we will reunite. All I can do is maintain that hope. Maintain faith that he will return to me. It’s the only way I can believe in a future.”

  “You gave it all up, only to lose him?”

  “I haven’t lost him, Nova. I’ll never lose him. A love like ours will never die.”

  Thirty-One

  Glancing from Josie’s handwritten map to the road signs, I navigated by foot through the maze of streets to Neal’s apartment. The cottage’s shabby porch soon came into view, and my pace slowed. I was almost there, but then what? What would I say?

  As I turned toward the back of the house, I spotted a bike propped against the wall. A long-ago memory, the sting of Neal’s skinned knee, flashed in my head. But now, instead of the young kid I’d previously remembered, it was Neal and me as young adults, beginning our journey in the mortal world.

  Separated by two thousand miles, I felt Neal’s fall as he learned to ride a bike. I was a college freshman, studying in the library when my knee suddenly twitched, then stung like a bad rug burn. I’d yelped and clutched my leg. The students around me had looked up and stared. I remember blinking back tears, feeling not only pain but embarrassment too.

  That moment in the library was the second time I felt physical pain. The first being when I’d drunkenly gotten a tattoo—the Celtic knot that permanently marked my skin.

  In the Hark, we did not feel pain such as skinned knees, needle pokes… or broken hearts.

  Now, stopping outside of the backdoor to the dilapidated cottage, I contemplated the harsh truth of human emotion and feeling. It was raw and real, tangible and consuming, fascinating and terrifying. It could build you up, only to tear you down.

  At the door, I searched for a buzzer, doorbell, or directory. Not finding anything, I twisted the knob, thankful to find it unlocked, and stepped through into the short hall. Three doors lined each side. I tried to recall which one was Neal’s—the previous night a blur—but a familiar, commanding voice boomed from the first. I moved closer, my eyes widening as I deciphered two distinct voices, both loud enough to hear through the closed door.

  “If only you would have shut up for five seconds yesterday,” Dane exclaimed. His voice dropped, and I pressed my ear to the door. “She’s here for you. To see you, make sure you’re okay, and you scare the living crap out of her.”

  “Like I’d trust a hunter.”

  “Grow up, kid. If not for yourself, then for your sister. She’s hurting. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you see it?”

  “What do you know about pain?” Neal spat back. “You only know how to inflict it.”

  “Oh, brother. Do you think I enjoy this? Being a hunter? Seeing how humanity destroys and deceives? I was recruited a long time ago, when I was much younger than you, you idiot. Keep it up, Neal. You only get so many chances before your time runs out.” After a pause, Dane continued in a more relaxed ton
e. “You want to hear it? The reason why I am what I am?”

  I took a step back, guilt warming my cheeks. Eavesdropping on them had taken a swift turn from a heated argument to sharing intimate details. Regardless, I couldn’t walk away. I resumed my hunched position with my ear pressed to the door.

  “I grew up in these parts, a walking god raised here instead of in the Hark. Spent my childhood up and down this coast, raised by a god who loved me like his own. He took me hunting, fishing, camping, exploring. Taught me to be a god and a man. But when I was not quite eighteen years old—mortal years—I enlisted in the Army. My first duty station wasn’t far from here. Fort Ord, near Monterey. I met the god I was destined to protect there. His name is Nick, but in the Land, he went by Niko.”

  “The God of Victory,” Neal interrupted. “Josie knows him.”

  “We spent months training on Ord before our unit deployed. One of the most sensitive military invasions of the twentieth century. Weeks of waiting, cooped up on a ship like sardines. Seasick and homesick. Finally, our mission was in sight. All I had to do was protect Nick, ensure he completed his task—ensure he was victorious. But when my boots hit the beach in Normandy, all my training went by the wayside. I lost my way, let my anger surge, let my disgust at humanity’s disregard for life degrade my vision. I allowed human emotions to destroy my resolve, and while I completed my task—I kept Nick safe—I killed. They were not innocent by any means—foreign forces working against us. Had I acted under a different emotional state, I would not have had to stand before my superiors and take my sentence. But I killed for vengeance.”

  A few seconds of silence passed before Dane spoke again. I used those precious moments to swipe the tears from my cheeks. “If you look at the books in the WWII history museum at Ord, you’ll find my name. But Dane Killbane, the god I was, died that day. A new man was born. A hunter. And now, this is my life.”

  I didn’t see Neal’s face, but I felt his reaction—the pounding of his heart and the tension in his muscles as his shoulders stiffened.