War of Gods Box Set

by Ford, Lizzy

  And kiri. He knew Sofia better than he knew Damian. Damian closed his eyes in pain, unable to shake his brother’s black history.

  “Though if I were you, I’d still be super pissed at her.”

  “I am,” he assured him.

  Dusty’s gaze grew intent. “Damian, I’m sorry. We should have prevented her from leaving. I never thought she’d do something like that,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t hold you responsible,” Damian said with a smile. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about humans, it’s that you can’t control them.”

  “It is my responsibility. She’s your mate and my sister. I swear it’ll never happen again. The oath I took to you and Jule I now take to her.” Dusty’s conviction was on his face. Damian was touched.

  “Thank you, Dusty,” he replied in a hushed tone. “I doubt she’ll appreciate it though. The first time she forgets your birthday, all hell will break loose.”

  Dusty shook his head.

  “I am grateful to you, Dusty,” Damian replied more seriously. “It’s been a rough few days.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Good. Easier for me than Darian to readjust.”

  “How is he?” Dusty asked.

  “He’s lost in his mind right now. He’ll have to work through it.”

  “I don’t suppose there are any shrinks among the Naturals.”

  “Don’t think so. Sofia can work with him some. I don’t know how she reached him inside that dark maze,” Damian said with a shake of his head.

  “Neither do I.”

  “What a sick bastard. If I could kill Czerno …” Damian swore darkly. How sick was the man who kept his former enemy as a slave?

  “Fuck, D, I’d take killing Claire over Czerno any day,” Jule said, appearing near the door. “Czerno’s job is to be a bad guy. Claire was the worst kind of traitor imaginable.”

  “Good point,” Damian said. “I was able to take care of that issue, though. I can’t touch Czerno.”

  “I love Sofia, but I hope you take a switch to her ass,” Jule advised as he tossed himself into one of the chairs.

  “I told him it was your fault,” Dusty said.

  “It was,” Jule agreed. “And I’m deeply sorry for it, Damian. On what soul I have, I swear never to allow harm to come to kiri.”

  Damian chuckled. “It wasn’t either of your faults. I think this was a small thing they call fate,” he assured them. “And thank you both.”

  “We still good for tomorrow?” Jule asked, referencing their journey to Europe.

  “Yep. Dusty and Darian will be babysitting my Oracle.”

  “I’ll keep her in line,” Dusty assured him.

  “I’m too angry at her to pity her,” Jule said. “You gonna try to rein in Pierre, too?”

  “If only. The day kiri grows tired of him, he’s going to my behavior modification training,” Dusty assured him.

  “Only if kiri agrees,” Damian warned.

  “Is this how you train ’em in the eastern hemisphere?” Dusty demanded, turning to Jule.

  “Better a benevolent team player than a dictator,” Jule retorted.

  “Disciplinarian. I don’t let them run amok and follow their feelings. I give them structure,” Dusty corrected him.

  “Like robots.”

  Their long-standing feud over leadership styles was interrupted as Darian appeared in the midst of them. Damian’s throat tightened, and his eyes misted at the sight of his brother. Darian appeared confused as he took in Jule and Dusty, recognition blooming slowly. He turned to Damian, his scarred features the most beautiful sight Damian had ever seen.

  “Ikir,” he said, nodding his head in submission. “May I see kiri?”

  “You don’t need permission to do anything,” Damian said gently, aware his brother was not yet himself. “Please don’t call me ikir. I’m your brother, not your master. And yes, go see kiri. She’ll be happy to see you.”

  “I will be happy to see her, ikir,” Darian said. He adored Sofia, that much was obvious, even if he wasn’t really sure where—or who—he was most of the time. Damian’s feelings for her swelled even more.

  “How are you, Darian?” Jule asked with a warm smile.

  “I am well, ikir,” came the mechanical reply. “Please excuse me, ikir.” And he was gone. Damian’s gaze lingered. Darian had a long way to go, but he was alive.

  “Take care of both of them, Dusty,” he murmured.

  “I swear it,” Dustin said.

  “He’s as strong as you, D. He’ll pull through,” Jule said. “And Dust-man won’t let anything near them.”

  “Damn right I won’t.”

  Damian smiled. He knew as much and was as grateful for the two men before him as he was at finding his brother again.

  Visions of Czerno and home videos from Darian morphed into a grotesque nightmare that made her body shake, even as she tried to push the dream from her thoughts. Insomnia was a blessing from such darkness.

  Come, Damian ordered.

  She hesitated before pulling on her robe and obeying. The mansion was quiet again, the signs of activity from earlier gone. Pierre glanced up from the game he played on his iPhone as she passed him. He watched her until verifying where she went before returning to the game.

  Damian’s suite was lit only by a blazing fire in the hearth, and the scent of Jule’s cigars hung in the air. She waited, gaze falling to Damian. He appeared calm and in control again, if not relaxed, with the only three men he’d ever trusted. Her heart almost burst at the sight of Darian in one of the seats. Though he was still unable to understand exactly what was going on, he’d improved dramatically even since she last saw him.

  Damian waved her in without looking at her, his eyes reflecting the fire. He patted the seat beside him on the couch facing Dustin and Jule. She didn’t hesitate to settle beside him, knees drawn to her chest, and leaned into his body, struck by the difference between the men before her: Dustin, the cold Greek prince, and the mysterious dark warmth of Jule. At once, the home videos and nightmares faded. She sighed in relief and rested her head on Damian’s shoulder. He moved his arm to wrap around her and pulled her against him.

  “You’re not forgiven,” he reminded her.

  “Damn straight,” Jule said, though there was warmth in his face. “If I had a woman who pulled the bullshit you did, you’d—”

  “Be in deep shit, kiri,” Darian finished for him.

  Jule chuckled. Darian’s disapproving gaze mirrored Damian’s, and Sofia hid her face against Damian’s chest as the three men facing her gave her similar looks.

  “I’ll never have a woman, if they’re this much trouble,” Dustin declared.

  “Agreed. And if I do, she’ll learn to call Damian, Dusty, or Darian before leaving the house,” Jule chimed in. “Which is exactly what you will do, kiri.”

  Sofia couldn’t help but say, “You’ll both have women, and Dustin, when you’re in trouble, she’ll call me.”

  Jule and Dustin both looked to Damian.

  “Not sure I like this Oracle shit,” Dustin voiced for both of them.

  “No way, kiri,” Jule said firmly.

  “If she didn’t come after you when you needed her, why would you want her at all?” she challenged.

  “Definitely steering clear of Americans,” Dustin added.

  “Because, kiri, you can’t do what these men can,” Jule scolded. “And D doesn’t have any other brothers for you to rescue. You know that’s the only reason you’re not locked in your room for the rest of your life.”

  “No worries,” Damian said with an edge that made her still. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Glad I’m not you,” Dustin said, leveling a look at her.

  She huddled closer to Damian, unwilling to look at his face. “What does kiri mean?” she asked.

  “Beloved. It’s used for sisters, mothers, and mates in our world,” Jule answered. “By the way, you’re on my list. I hope I’m off your
s.”

  Her throat tightened, understanding the honor despite his nonchalant delivery. She nodded.

  “What list?” Dustin asked.

  “You’re not on hers,” Jule assured him. “I imagine only Pierre is on it now.”

  She laughed.

  “I sense a reassignment,” Dustin said, gaze going to the fire.

  Her gaze fell to Darian. He was struggling. By the blank look in his unseeing eyes, he’d fallen into his thoughts again. She shifted away from Damian and touched Darian’s forehead, absorbing the horror of his memories. She drew a sharp breath but forced herself to stay, to take his pain.

  “No, kiri, you’ve done enough,” Darian said, taking her hands. “I have much to atone for.”

  His heavy words broke her heart, but she respected his request and returned to Damian’s side. The horrors from his mind fell away as she curled against her mate again.

  The men fell into silence, and she sensed the silent communications she couldn’t hear. Comfortable against Damian, she drifted into a restful doze until he shifted. She roused herself, surprised to see the other three had disappeared at some point. She sat up, forcing herself to meet his golden gaze. His face was unreadable, his gaze steady.

  “Please don’t be angry,” she said, touching his face. He took her hand in his and leaned forward, allowing his forehead to rest against hers. She sighed, delighting in the tender moment.

  “Are you going to run from me again?” he asked without moving.

  “No, Damian. Never again. I promise,” she swore just as quietly.

  “Good.” He stood and swept her into his arms. “I’ve got plans for you tonight,” he said, desire flaring on his face as he carried her into his bedroom. “And every night from here on out.”

  Her heart sang as she realized she hadn’t lost him after all, her body echoing the desire on his face.

  The next morning, the sight of snow falling outside her window drew her gaze as she packed for the evacuation. Damian replaced his necklace around her neck, a small comfort until his work in the European front was finished. She approached the window, amazed at the snow, until her gaze fell to a figure kneeling like a dark gargoyle in the middle of the white lawn. He’d been there long enough that the snow had covered his footprints.

  Alarmed, she swung on her robe and snatched one of Damian’s trench coats. She flew down the stairs and through the teeming hallways. Pierre trotted after her into the cold morning. The air was cold, brisk, the snowflakes falling faster. Snow crunched under her feet and quickly soaked her flimsy slippers.

  “Darian!” she exclaimed, dropping to her knees beside him. His eyes were closed, his body hunched and hands clenched together. He wore nothing more than a T-shirt and jeans. Snow covered his hair, and his skin was cold. “Darian!” She touched his face.

  He opened his eyes and stared at her, a tortured look on his face.

  “I remember them,” he said. “All of them.” His memories flashed, and she winced at the sight of the executions he’d committed for Czerno.

  “That wasn’t you, Darian,” she whispered. “You had no control over yourself.”

  “I’m weak.”

  “You’re not. Damian was crippled by the same thing.” She regretted alluding to it the moment the raw look of anguish crossed his face.

  “Claire,” he said hoarsely. He closed his eyes, his jaw clenched hard enough for the muscles to tick. Tears escaped one eye and trailed down his face. She felt her own tears spill over at the depth of his pain. His was not the kind of pain she could fix.

  “You’re safe, Darian,” she said and draped the trench coat over his shoulders. She placed her hands on his face and pulled him closer, hugging him. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Dustin approached, his gaze as haunted as Darian’s. He knelt, ruffling the snow from Darian’s hair.

  “It’s okay, brother,” he said quietly. “Let’s get you inside.” He helped Darian to his feet. “Sofi, get ready. We’re evac-ing you and Darian next,” he ordered. “Pierre, pack your things. You’re going, too.”

  She didn’t miss the look of relief that crossed Pierre’s face and suspected he’d been threatened with a reassignment for shooting her. Obviously, Damian had reconsidered. She was happy for it. Pierre tossed her a familiar cell phone as they entered the mansion. An unread text message blinked on the screen.

  4got 2 tell you. Luv u 2.

  She grinned and typed a response. Man up and tell me in person.

  Next time I see you, I’ll do better—I’ll show you, he promised, his whisper sliding into her mind. A thrill went through her.

  “I still hate that,” she muttered.

  In the words of an Oracle I once knew, get used to it.

  “I love you, Damian. Come home soon.”

  I will, kiri, I will.

  Truly thrilled about the start to her new life, she folded the phone and dropped it into her pocket. She followed Dustin and Darian down the hall.

  Sofia. The new voice in her mind was the same as the voice she’d heard during the chopper ride with Darian. He was waiting for her. She pushed open the cracked door to the library. Inside was a man she recognized from Czerno’s, the small man with dark green eyes and white hair. Her heart slowed, and she froze inside the doorway.

  He gave a fatherly smile and approached her, holding his hand out, palm up. She hesitated, torn between screaming for Dustin and staying where she was. She touched her palm to his, driven back by the impact of images that rippled through her. The whole of Damian’s history, his forefathers’, all the way to the Beginning, when spirits milled without purpose before the Original Beings shaped the universe into something much greater.

  She snapped her hand back and stared at him, overwhelmed. The man before her was from before time, before life, before everything. He clasped his hands behind his back. The memories rippled through her then coalesced, locking themselves away in the back of her mind.

  “Watcher.” Dustin’s warning growl was cold. He took her arm, pulling her behind him. Her gaze was riveted to the man before her. His green gaze switched from her to Dustin, never blinking.

  “I mean no harm, Guardian,” the Watcher said.

  “What are you?” she breathed, the images swimming through her thoughts.

  “Ikira, I am a Watcher, one of those who guards the Guardians,” he said with another of his warm smiles. “My job is to make sure the pendulum never swings too far into the court of the Black God.”

  “Bullshit,” Dusty snapped. “You have no loyalties to either God.”

  “True, but it’s always been in the Watchers’ best interest to ensure humanity perpetuates. The Black God doesn’t share our view.”

  “Master.” Darian’s voice was monotonous. “I obeyed you. Kiri is safe.”

  She turned to see his gaze on the ground, his body braced as if for a blow. Heartbroken by his return to the slave he was, Sofia was stopped from comforting him by Dustin’s grip on her arm.

  “I know, Darian,” the Watcher said. “You did well. If I may, ikir?”

  He looked to Dustin. Dustin gave a tense nod and pushed her behind him, out of the Watcher’s path. He was coiled and ready to snap if the Watcher so much as looked at her too long. She wasn’t about to contradict the cold executioner when he was in this mood.

  The Watcher approached Darian, who knelt in response to a silent command. The Watcher placed both hands on his head. Darian jerked.

  “Tomorrow, when you awake, you will no longer be a slave. You will become the Grey God, who you were born to be,” the Watcher told him.

  “I thought Watchers had a policy of non-interference,” Dustin said in a measured tone.

  “We do, ikir, unless the balance is so disturbed that we must interfere.” His words sent a chill through Sofia. “You will see me again, ikir. “And you, ikira. You will remember the secrets I gave you one day, when you must use them.”

  She didn’t like the ominous words and looked up
at Dustin again, seeking to gauge just how serious the situation was. He was pale beneath the golden skin. She crept closer to him. If he was worried, she had a reason to be terrified.

  “My dear Darian,” the Watcher said in a softer tone, “I cannot take the pain of the memories you will experience in the morning when you remember the whole of your existence. Do not be consumed by them. You have a great fate to fulfill in this life yet.”

  “Yes, master,” was the monotonous response.

  “Tell the White God I send him greetings,” the Watcher said and moved away from them. In a gentle flicker of light, he was gone. Sofia released the breath she was holding and moved in front of Dustin, gazing up at him. Her hands shook.

  “Dustin?” she prompted when he remained staring at the place where the Watcher had been. He looked down at her. Sensing her fear, he touched her arm, the edge of tension dissipating. His look softened, and rare warmth crossed his features.

  “There’s a lotta shit about our world you’ll figure out,” he promised her. “Watchers rarely cause us harm, but they rarely involve themselves in our business either.” His considering gaze returned to Darian. “Don’t worry, kiri. First things first. We need to evac now.”

  She nodded, sensing there was much he wasn’t saying. He shepherded them to the library door, returning to his original purpose. She took Darian’s hand and led him down the hall like the lost child he was. She braced herself against the memories running through his head and the confusion as he tried to figure out where he was.

  “You’re safe, kiri,” he said.

  “So are you, Darian,” she replied.

  As they strode into the gardens toward an awaiting helicopter, she couldn’t help but think she’d just stepped into something far greater than she could ever imagine.

  Damian’s Assassin

  Book II

  Chapter One

  Fifteen years ago

  Bianca looked from her pale brother lying too still on the hospital bed to the smiling nurse. The room was dark except for the light above Jonny’s bed and the red and green lights dotting the machines keeping him alive.