War of Gods Box Set

by Ford, Lizzy

  “Yes,” she said. “Several days ago.”

  “He killed a Guardian as well,” her father said. “He was a bartender where my daughter frequents.”

  “Jule wouldn’t kill one of his own without good reason,” Damian said, plainly unconvinced.

  “Sean’s dead?” Yully asked, not expecting the news.

  “Yes, dear,” her father said, attention on his visitors.

  She felt even colder. Sean had been alive when her father knocked out Jule and brought him here the other night. If he was dead, it meant her father did it, not Jule, who had been in the basement.

  The man named Damian still watched her. “I want Jule’s body,” he said.

  “It’s been sent to the immortal realm, where it belongs,” her father replied.

  “Bring it back.”

  “I summoned you here as a warning that your interference won’t be tolerated. I don’t take orders from your kind.”

  “If I remember correctly, this realm belongs to Jonny and me,” Damian said with a spark of anger. “You are the guest. You will bring me Jule’s body, or I will invite the Watchers in to do with you as they please.”

  “If they could find me, they would’ve by now, just like you’ll never be able to retrace her steps back to this spot once you leave,” her father said, his voice rising. “You don’t give me orders, Damian.”

  Yully’s heart was pounding. Her life was in danger, and so was Jule’s. She didn’t fully understand what was going on between her father and these people. Jule trusted this Damian, even though they were both the Guardians her father warned her about. Yet it had been her father who killed Sean, not the Guardian Jule. She patted the pocket in her skirt containing the paper on which Jule had scribbled down the phone number of the towering man before her.

  “I call bullshit on this whole thing. No matter, I’m outta here,” Damian said. “Gimme a ring if you have anything useful to say.”

  She sensed this comment was directed at her. Damian disappeared, followed by the man named Jonny and the woman with him. Her father turned to her, anger and triumph on his normally stoic features.

  “Father, what’s going on?” she questioned. “Who are all these people, and why are they after me?”

  “It’s a much longer story than I have time for,” he replied. “Your magic gifts have blossomed, and they’ve attracted the attention of others with magic gifts.”

  “I thought there were no others.”

  “There are. You are one of what they call Naturals. Damian and Jonny collect Naturals for their own purposes, mainly to battle each other. It’s like a chess game, and the humans are pawns to be used and destroyed,” he explained. “That is not the fate for you, my dear.”

  “What is my fate?” she asked, absorbing the information that confirmed what Jule had told her about the war between good and evil on earth. Her father had just admitted there were more people like her, and she couldn’t help her flicker of hope at the news.

  “To become the princess I’ve always told you that you would be,” he replied. “I know this is hard on you, but you’ll soon see where you belong in this mess. Those two will continue to send people to kill you, just like Jule and the swordsman.”

  And Sean? What was his crime? She wanted to ask but didn’t.

  “You pity a Guardian?” His father’s angry voice was accompanied by a slap. She closed her eyes and braced herself for another. “I’ll protect you as I always have. I’ve killed hundreds to keep you safe and undiscovered, and I’ll kill hundreds more. Don’t you ever second-guess what I tell you.”

  “Father, I feel ill,” she whispered.

  “You probably never thought your father could kill a man before today. Know that I do it because I care about you, Yully, and want to keep you safe. Also understand that I’ll kill anyone who comes between us and my plans,” he warned. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  He left. She sat heavily, unable to fathom hundreds of people dying around her without her noticing. Worse, what was she that hundreds of people were willing to seek her out to kill her? Was her father a savior or a murderer?

  Jule’s a savior.

  She suddenly felt more alone than ever and rubbed her stinging cheek. No matter what, she wasn’t going to be defenseless again. Yully forced herself to her feet and strode through the house to the garage. Even if she couldn’t kill the next swordsman that came for her, she could buy herself some time.

  Her father’s collection of weapons had been a source of curiosity for as long as she could remember. As she stepped into the armory in the corner of the large garage, she was struck by the care he took of the large collection. All his weapons were kept clean and loaded, from the crossbows to the guns in the gun locker. She’d thought his wall of swords, daggers, axes, and other medieval weapons were for ceremony. In looking at them again, she could see the time and effort that would’ve been required to keep them cleaned and sharpened.

  The armory was not the collection of a wealthy connoisseur; this was the personal armory of a man accustomed to killing often. He’d trained her to use many of the weapons and encouraged her to visit the armory, even when she was young and too weak to lift a sword. She’d never before wondered how or why he knew so much about fighting. She’d assumed he’d trained her in place of the son he didn’t have.

  Even the crossbow she’d used the other night was clean and perched where she’d found it, loaded once again. She’d shot two men with it. She wondered how many other men had been killed by the clean, neatly aligned weapons in the armory.

  “My name is Darian.”

  She whirled, her heart leaping. The man in the corner was tall with eyes that swirled gold like Damian’s had. She snatched one of the handguns out of the small arms chest and aimed it at his head, fed up with surprises. Light and dark seemed to bend to avoid him, leaving a haze around his body.

  “That won’t work. I’m immune to lead!” he said and laughed. “Get it?”

  She stared at him. He grew serious when she didn’t respond.

  “Anyway, Damian sent me. He said it’s about Jule.”

  “What about Jule?” she asked. Yully lowered the weapon slowly. The man in the corner took that as in invitation to approach, and she moved behind the table her father used for laying out pieces of disassembled weapons in the center of the armory.

  “I guess first off, is he alive?” the man called Darian asked. He stopped across from her. She had the sense of power shimmering in the air around him.

  “As far as I know,” she replied. “What are you?”

  “I’m Darian,” he said, though darkness crossed his features. “Jule was my closest friend until things went to shit. What are you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” he echoed. “Never met anyone more lost than I am.”

  “I’m not lost.”

  “You think an Other is your father, and you seem to think a Guardian of humanity is your enemy. I’d say you’re lost.”

  “I don’t understand any of what you said,” she replied.

  His gaze narrowed, as if about to accuse her of lying. Instead, he frowned.

  “Jule’s safe. He was hurt” she rushed on, not wanting to admit how, “but he’s safe for now.”

  “Where?”

  “Up the coast in a cottage.”

  “Assume I know nothing about Ireland,” he said, amused. He held out a hand. “Show me in your mind.”

  She shook her head, recalling what she’d felt when she touched Jule.

  “If he’s hurt, I can help him,” Darian said.

  “Right now, I don’t know who to trust,” she said.

  “Easy. Me. Jule’s my friend.”

  “I just found out my father’s running around killing people, and you expect me to trust a stranger when I don’t even know if I can trust him anymore?”

  “I understand,” he said and was quiet. His gaze drew distant, as if he were rememberin
g something dark. “I know what it is to be betrayed.” His pain was almost palpable, and she couldn’t help feeling it was too raw for him to fake. Unlike her father, this creature was capable of sympathy. Whatever had happened, the man before her was hurting still, like she did when her father hit her.

  She held out her hand. He shook his head to clear it and reached across the island. She braced herself, expecting to feel some sort of rush of energy, like she did when she touched Jule. Instead, she felt a tingle in her thoughts and nothing else.

  “Show me,” he said.

  She closed her eyes and retraced the route to the cottage in her mind, only distantly aware she was absorbing his energy.

  “Did you tell him you can do this?” he asked, perplexed.

  “Do what?” she asked and opened her eyes.

  Their hands were bathed in the same strange haze that surrounded him. Surprised, she yanked her hand free.

  “I resisted as much as I could, and you still stole my magic,” Darian said, cocking his head to the side. “Would be useful for …” He tensed. “Gotta go.”

  He disappeared, and she stared after him for a long moment before grabbing as many weapons as she could carry and returning to her room. She rested the weapons on her bed and locked the door.

  She still felt defenseless against whatever creatures her father and the Guardians were. She sat for a moment, finally admitting she needed to embrace whatever it was about her that made her special. The recent chain of events made it impossible for her to deny something serious was going on, and she was somehow involved. She just had to convince her father to tell her what that was.

  Chapter Five

  The Guardian Jenn watched the interrogation from the privacy of the two-way mirror. The Black God had failed to elicit anything other than a sneer with every one of his approaches. Four of the five vamps he’d chosen as bodyguards were exchanging looks of derision behind his back, and the vamp he tried to interrogate was openly ridiculing him. As much as she knew she shouldn’t, Jenn pitied the young god. She’d interfere if it wouldn’t make him look even weaker before his men.

  At last, Jonny stormed out of the room, and Jenn emerged from the observation room into the hall. His body rippled with angry power that made her keep her distance. He slammed his hand into the wall.

  “This isn’t working!” he shouted.

  “Then we take a different approach,” she said. “You have more than one option.”

  “But this one knows exactly what I need to!”

  “Don’t fixate, Jonny,” she advised. “If more than one person knows something, it’s not a secret. This is the first lesson every good spy knows.”

  He met her gaze, listening.

  “This vamp wasn’t a loner. He has friends, doesn’t he?” she asked.

  “Several. I had our logs checked like you said. He’s been working on the same team for years.”

  “There you go. Lesson two: everyone associated with your target is a potential weak point.”

  “What if they don’t talk, either?”

  “We try something else.”

  “Damian can read minds. Darian can read minds. I can’t,” he mused. “Xander said my powers will build slowly.”

  Upon arriving at the Black God’s compound two days ago, Jenn had quickly learned the Black God had little control over his own powers and no respect from the vamps he led. It was a dangerous combination, one that could make his stint as Black God very short, if they found a way to kill him. Jenn said nothing, aware the vamps in the interrogation room were listening.

  “This business is more complex than I thought,” he admitted. “I guess I watched too many movies about spies to know how they really work.”

  “Good operatives have a box full of tricks. We’ve identified weak points in your organization. You must clean house, Jonny, or you’ll never be able to go on the offensive.”

  “You’ll help me go on the offensive against your own people?” he asked, facing her. The air around him rippled, reminding her he was as powerful as Damian. His power pushed her against the wall. She couldn’t tell if he were doing it on purpose or simply had no control.

  “Our agreement was for helping you clean house,” she reminded him in a calm purr. “Besides, I’m going to help you get started. Thirty days isn’t long enough for you to complete this first step, and it’s crucial you do it right.”

  “I know you’re right,” he said slowly. The intensity around him faded, and the air released her. “It’s harder than I thought.”

  She breathed a silent sigh. He’d drawn up on her twice since she arrived. Thus far, he’d listened to her, and she hoped he feared Damian enough to continue paying attention. Her gift for mind manipulation wasn’t enough to influence the powerful God, and she’d found appeasing the lost young man and using the extent of her gift were both needed to influence him.

  “Xander!” Jonny shouted and beat on the door to the interrogation room. The largest vamp she’d ever seen stepped into the hallway. “Bring his teammates here.”

  The vamp bowed his head and pushed past Jenn.

  “Soon, Guardian,” it whispered. “He can’t protect you for long.”

  “Bring it, idiot,” she replied, unfazed. “You wouldn’t last past our first kiss.”

  The vamp barked a laugh and continued down the hall.

  “You have no fear,” Jonny said, his sharp gaze on the retreating vamp. “Even surrounded by the enemy?”

  “The worst you can do is kill me,” she replied. “Which is probably what your vamp in there is thinking.”

  Jonny’s features grew thoughtful. “You’re right.”

  “What’re you thinking?” she asked.

  “I’m thinking there are worse things than death,” he replied. “Much worse.”

  “Like being forced into becoming the Black God?”

  “It was my choice,” he snapped. “I was thinking even someone who doesn’t fear death, fears something else. It’s a matter of finding what that is.”

  His gaze was hard, and she felt him flex his power again. His thoughts weren’t on the vamp; they were on her. Jenn forced a smile on her face. She’d long since learned how to manipulate alpha males, and it wasn’t by going head-to-head with them.

  “I think you’re right, Jonny,” she said in the low, level voice she used with her trainees. “Fear is natural, even for Guardians and gods.”

  Her words soothed him again. He shook the tension out of his shoulders.

  “I want you to go in with me this time,” he said. “Call it moral support.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  They waited for Xander to return with the three vamps trailing him. With the exception of Xander’s quick bow, they entered the interrogation room without acknowledging the Black God. Jenn glanced at Jonny, who looked agitated yet distracted. The kid was hard to read, and she guessed his anger had more to do with his struggle to understand his new role than the vamps who clearly had no respect for him.

  Jonny entered, and she trailed him.

  “I realize I’ve been taking the wrong approach,” Jonny said. He sat in the chair in front of the vamp he’d fixated on. “I thought, if you wouldn’t talk, your friends would.”

  “I’m not afraid of a boy.” The vamp in front of him chuckled and tossed his head in greeting to his teammates.

  “You should fear this boy.”

  Xander stepped back to the door beside Jenn. There was interest in his glowing red eyes, and she rested the palms of her hands on the knives at her belt.

  “You think he can do it?” the vamp asked her.

  “I think you need to keep your mouth shut,” she replied.

  “Sexy, even when you want to cut my head off.”

  “Anytime, shithead.”

  “You need to warn him.” He eased away from her.

  Jenn’s gaze flew up to the strange vamp, and she followed his gaze. One of the members of Jonny’s own personal guard had shifted forward and was disc
reetly drawing the weapon at his thigh. She never thought she’d find herself rooting for the Black God, but she willed Jonny to take control of the situation. The room full of vamps was ready to pounce on the fledgling god. They watched Jonny like they would their next victim. Her heart pounding, Jenn moved forward and whispered into Jonny’s ear.

  “You have about sixty seconds before we’re both fighting for our lives,” she warned.

  Jonny glanced around the room, his hesitation giving more than one vamp confidence to draw their weapons openly.

  “Talk to me,” she urged. “Tell me anything.”

  “What do you want me to say?” he whispered.

  “That’ll do,” she said to him then straightened. She addressed the vamp in front of Jonny. “He says if you don’t cooperate, I get to kill your friends, one by one.” She drew the gun at the small of her back and aimed it at the head of one of the vamps.

  “Fuck you, bitch,” the vamp sneered.

  One of the other vamps drew a weapon. Jenn shot the first vamp and stepped in front of the next.

  “Same thing, shithead. I get off on killing you idiots,” she said in the same calm voice she used with Jonny. Her gaze went to Jonny. “May I, ikir?”

  “Do it,” Jonny ordered.

  The vamp being interrogated no longer smiled. Jenn shot the second one. The vamp in front of Jonny launched towards her. She whirled and drew her knife, ready to kill all of them. A blur of black shot between her and the attacker. Jonny snatched the vamp by its neck and slammed it down to the table.

  “How dare you mock me!” he roared, an inhuman note in his voice. “No one touches my Guardian!”

  His display was too late. Jenn sensed the next vamp charge her and spun, burying her knife in the neck of the nearest before she lashed out with a kick at the next. A knife caught her arm, and she ducked a punch in the cramped space. Her knife found the shoulder of one vamp before a kick slammed her against the wall.

  She vaulted to her feet, adrenaline flying through her. To her surprise, Xander stepped between her and the two pissed-off vamps waiting for her.

  “Not this time,” he warned them. “That goes for you, too, Guardian.”