Godkiller (Hidden: Godkiller Saga Book 1)
Page 1
by Colleen Vanderlinden
Published by Peitho Press
Excelsior Township, Michigan, 2017
©2017 Colleen Vanderlinden
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the author at colleen@colleenvanderlinden.com.
Contents
More Books by Colleen Vanderlinden
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Hidden Saga Reading Order
Note from Colleen
More Books
by Colleen Vanderlinden
The Copper Falls Series
Shadow Witch Rising
Shadow Sworn
Light’s Shadow
The Exile Series
Exile
Riven
The Hidden Series
Book One: Lost Girl
Book Two: Broken
Book Three: Home
Book Four: Strife
Book Five: Nether
Hidden Series Novellas
Forever Night
Earth Bound Demons of Christmas Past
Hidden: Soulhunter Series
Guardian
Betrayer
Zealot
Hidden: Godkiller Series
Godkiller
The StrikeForce Series
A New Day
One More Day
Darkest Day
Day’s End
Contemporary Romance
Written as Ella Linden
Paradise Bay
Between the Lines
One More Time
Imperfect
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Dedication
To Jayna Longstreet. Thank you for
being Molly’s first fan, and for all
of your encouragement along the way.
Prologue
When I pictured the end of the world, it definitely didn’t look anything like this.
I imagined more screaming. More explosions, probably, because I always figured I’d be involved somehow and explosions and I just kind of go together.
I never expected it to be so quiet. Couldn’t have predicted the totally fucking pathetic odds we’d face. Never, in a million years, assuming I had them, would I have expected Nain—
Fuck it.
I’m getting ahead of myself again. And there’s a whole lot of bullshit that leads up to this point.
My name is Molly Brooks. Illegitimate daughter of the Fury Tisiphone and the God of Death himself, Hades. His mantle has been passed on to me, and it’s the last goddamn thing I want.
Heh. Goddamn.
Let’s go with that.
Damn every last god who’s ever existed, because they’re why we’re in this mess to begin with.
(Time Magazine Person of the Year interview with Mollis Eth-Hades, December, 2026).
By Rachael Dubois, Time Magazine
In the ten years since the end of what we now call the Undead War, our world has rebuilt itself from the ashes. We no longer suffer the brutalities of war, the desperation of hunger, or the cruelty of homelessness. Those of us who were lucky enough to live through the war are blessed in more ways than one. We’ve lived through hell, and have come through the other side to a world that is as close to heaven as the living can possibly get.
War, hunger, homelessness, disease, pollution… all of these things, so rampant in the years before the Undead War, are no longer part of our lives. And the reason for that is this year’s Person of the Year, Mollis Eth Hades. She is feared as much as she is loved, but there are few among us who don’t agree that her presence and protection have made our lives immeasurably better. This being, this goddess, so feared when we first learned of her existence, has created the kind of world we only ever dreamed of even ten years ago.
I called and messaged her assistant, Meaghan (the wife of one of Mollis Eth-Hades’ fellow gods) relentlessly, begging for this interview. It has been years since our Goddess has granted one, preferring to work silently behind the scenes. Meaghan finally told me that the Goddess had finally agreed, only to save Meaghan from further hounding from me.
I am still not quite sure if that was a joke or not. If not… the idea that Mollis Eth-Hades, the most powerful being in existence, cares that much for her assistant… perhaps that shows why our world is as peaceful as it is.
We are blessed with a Goddess who actually cares.
And so… the interview was set, and I could hardly believe my luck.
Sitting in a room with Mollis Eth-Hades is nothing short of a religious experience. Her presence is proof that gods are real, that they do indeed have dominion over the lives of men. To be near her is to be both terrified and overcome with emotion at the same time. Her power roars through the small diner in which we meet for this interview, her choice. She does nothing to hide her power, but today there is no sign of the enormous black wings or glowing eyes we’ve all seen from the many times we’ve seen our patron Goddess in battle.
In truth, her appearance gives no indication at all that the world’s savior sits across the table from me.
Mollis Eth-Hades, Goddess of Death, protector of Earth, a goddess who has singlehandedly brought peace to our world, looks like a twenty-something goth girl. Her black hair flows over her shoulders, and her large gray eyes seem almost too large for her face. She is pale, dainty-looking in her black sweater and well-worn jeans.
To my surprise and chagrin, at five foot eight, I stand a full half a foot taller than our Goddess. It seems wrong. My first instinct, upon meeting her, was to bow, to ensure that she remained above me. A roll of her eyes, an impatient wave, and I remain standing.
“Don’t bow. I hate it when people bow,” she tells me in a voice that makes me think of dark bars and hard liquor. I tell her this, and she nods. We take our seats, and the waitress comes to fill our coffee cups, and Mollis Eth-Hades thanks her quietly. And then she picks up where we left off, with my comment about her voice.
“My head was removed from my body a few times. Vocal chords have never been the same,” she says with a shrug, as if we’re discussing nothing more than the weather.
I ask her how she feels about the fact that war has ceased to exist in our world, largely because of her. She gives a small shrug of her thin shoulders. “It’s not like it was hard. All these leaders who have tried to start shit? It’s basically nothing more than a dick measuring contest, you know? And when you show them that they and their dicks can be destroyed in an instant… they de
cide it’s not really worth it after all.”
“Are you confident that things can remain this way? There are those who are unhappy about your control over international relations,” I ask.
She smirks, a well-known expression on the face of our Goddess. “Yeah? What’re they gonna do? Fight me?”
Part One
Chapter One
My name is Molly Brooks.
I am the Goddess of Death. Daughter of a Fury and Hades, who died and passed his powers on to me, leaving me to become the Lady of the Nether in his place.
I am the savior of my city.
I am the one being on this planet no one wants to mess with.
This world… this beautiful, crazy, peaceful world I’ve created, is under my protection. I make the rules. I decide who gets to play the game.
And I decide, in the end, how each and every living being will spend eternity.
In all honesty… I guess it’s not too bad being me. I mean, it used to be bad, being me. I’ve thought I was insane. I’ve been lost, lonely, forgotten. I’ve been tortured and beheaded. Blown up. Drowned. Buried alive.
That really sucked. Not gonna lie.
But I’ve reached the point in my life where my enemies are long gone, dead at my hand or the hand of one of those I trust. I’m the bitch who rules the world.
It’s perfect. So why does my blood cry out for the insanity of battle, the sight of my enemies’ blood bathing my sword? How fucked up is it that I’ve achieved peace for my world, and I dream of war?
I sped through Detroit, my foot on the gas, the roar of the V8 engine like music to my ears. Familiar landscapes blurred past my windows as I let the Barracuda do exactly what she was meant to do: leave everything behind her in the dust. AC/DC blared on the stereo, and cool air kissed my skin through the open windows. The sky was pitch black, just like my car, just like the uniform I wore as a Fury and the goddess of death, just like the darkest parts of me, the parts that relish destruction and pain, that thrive on the fear of my enemies. The only time I felt more alive was when I was crushed beneath my mate’s enormous, muscled body.
I smiled and hit the gas a little harder. Speaking of which, Nain should be home by now.
I neared the Netherwoods, a place visible only to the immortals and a few select supernaturals, and then, only if they were explicitly invited and escorted by one of us. We spent as many nights as we could in our house, the house Nain had rebuilt for me on the site of my old place, which had been blown up by a former enemy. But tonight, we were stuck in the Netherwoods because my aunt and mother had earned a night away from the souls they guarded and punished, and they were excited to see some 1980s-themed concert.
I will never understand their taste in music.
So tonight, it was just the two of us. I knew our kids weren’t likely to be around. Hades, at fourteen, had a busier social life than I’d had in my entire life, and Zoe would likely be somewhere in the Netherwoods, but we would only see her if she wanted to be seen. Some days, she wanted to be around us more than others. And Hades… well. Hades was more like me than I ever wanted any of my kids to be. The world is too loud for him, too full of emotions and thoughts and all the things he wishes he couldn’t hear or feel. He generally did his own thing, which sometimes meant hanging out with Brennan or Hephaestus’ sons, but usually meant roaming the city, learning how to handle the powers he has… powers he never asked for or would have wanted.
He dealt with it much better than I had at that age. Of course, he’d had us, Nain and me, both of us telepaths who could help him control his powers. It made a difference, and both he and Zoe were already, slowly but surely, finding where they fit in in our world.
But tonight, all I had ahead of me was a night, alone, with Nain. Chances were about fifty-fifty that we’d start fighting about something, but even then, the chances of make-up sex afterward were a hundred percent. So really, I couldn’t lose.
I turned up the narrow road that led to the Netherwoods. I slowed as I approached, not wanting to hit an imp or something by mistake. I’d almost done that once and felt terrible about it for months afterward.
The street here was abandoned, with streetlights that worked, but only when we wanted them to. Tonight, they were out because we weren’t expecting any visitors, immortal or otherwise.
What a relief.
I followed the curve toward the gates that led into the Netherwoods themselves and saw a flash of… something… out of the corner of my eye. I would have missed it completely if I hadn’t just been glancing that way.
A pale figure stood at the side of the road, dressed in gray, hands clasped demurely in front of her.
Her.
The second I realized who it was, I slammed the car into park and jumped out.
“What the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?” I snarled. “Where’s Nyx?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing here, and I don’t know where she is. I’m turning myself in because there is no way I should be allowed to roam free, considering.”
I studied the goddess before me, and it took nearly every bit of power I have not to kill her where she stood.
Persephone.
My father’s former wife. After he’d died, she’d combined her hatred of me and her desperation to get him back by any means necessary, coming up with a plot that was so twisted, so evil, so completely fucking vile that she’d been banished from our realm, taken prisoner by my grandmother, our Creator goddess, Nyx. We were never supposed to see her again. Ever. This world had already suffered, billions of lives lost, because of Persephone’s insanity.
“What did you do to Nyx?” I asked, stepping toward her.
“I did not do anything to her, Mollis,” she said, meeting my eyes, then quickly looking away. “You’d know that if you’d actually use your powers instead of hiding behind those glasses,” she sighed.
Feeling the tiniest bit stupid, I pulled the glasses Hephaestus had made for me off of my face and looked at Persephone. Really Looked, the way only I can. The way only Hades could before me.
When I look at someone, I see everything. Their fears. Their loves. Their greatest sins and their best moments. The hatreds they held deep in their hearts, the insults they nursed until they festered. Every secret they’ve ever kept, for better or worse. I know them all.
And I hate it. I don’t fucking want to know. I’ve seen some messed up shit thanks to this particular “gift” from my darling father. But even I have to admit that sometimes, it comes in handy.
Persephone’s sins washed over me. Lies she’d told her mother, her friends. Little things, and then, suddenly, horrid, sickening things. The kidnapping and repeated murder of my son chief among them. The deaths of nearly half of the world’s population. Deals made, all in a sick attempt to destroy me and bring Hades back to life.
She’d failed on both counts. But the world had been made to suffer just the same.
Most recently, I saw that she’d been held in a solitary state in Nyx’s palace in the Old Nether, which was permanently cut off from our realm. I kinda… broke that particular gateway. And it’s for the best because the Old Nether is full of nightmares. And Nyx, who lives there and in the Aether when she decides to. It’s not a place anyone sane or crazily powerful would ever want to be.
“What happened?” I asked, pulling a pair of thin metal bracers out of my pocket and clamping them onto her dainty wrists. They’d prevent her from rematerializing, slipping away. They’d also dampen her powers in general. Heph is a genius, I thought as I waited for her to answer.
“I was in my cell, as usual. I heard crashing sounds above, in Nyx’s living quarters. I heard her shouting, talking to someone. And I heard someone talking back. The next thing I knew, these… things burst into my cell as if the security door was nothing. They’d blasted it off of its hinges,” she added. “They dragged me upstairs and brought me to their leader, who was in the room with Nyx. He looked at me and told them to get rid of me. I assumed t
hey were going to kill me, and one of them zapped me with what looked like a little silver button, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up here, outside the Netherwoods.”
I sensed for her as she spoke, sifted through her thoughts and memories. She was frightened, unsure. She wasn’t lying, but that didn’t mean I trusted her.
“These things that took you. What did they look like?” Her memories of them were fuzzy, and sometimes people remember things one way when telling someone, and a totally different way in their stored memories. Persephone’s off her rocks, so who knows what she even thought she saw?
“I am not sure. They were not very tall. About as tall as Eunomia, perhaps.”
“Do not even say her name,” I hissed, and she drew back as if I’d slapped her. E. My best friend, my right hand, had been killed fighting the war against the Undead. She’d come back as a soul, led an army of the dead, and destroyed the Undead hordes that had been swarming the realm. Nyx had decided, as a reward, that she deserved another chance at life and restored her to the realm of the living.
But still. E had been dead. We’d mourned her, fought for her. Cried for her. I still had nightmares about the moment she’d fallen. It had felt like losing part of myself.
Better not to think about that now, when all I still needed to learn more about how Persephone had gotten to my world again. If I thought about any of it too much, I’d end her before she even knew what was coming.
“What else can you tell me?” I asked after she stayed silent while I got myself under control again.
“I did not get a good look at them. They were wearing some form of metallic armor that covered their bodies and faces completely. I am sorry.”