Pride Before A Fall (Book 21 in the Godhunter Series)

by Amy Sumida

  All of my men set their stares on Panacea and started moving toward her.

  “Stop this!” Hygieia stepped in front of her sister. “Hermes was not here today.”

  “And he would never abduct a child,” Panacea protested.

  “You obviously have no idea who was here today,” I snapped at Hygieia. “Otherwise, you would know who took my baby and what exactly they did to her to cut me off from our bond. I can't sense the connection to my child, Hygieia! That takes some serious magic. Like the magic of an ancient Greek god.”

  I turned my fury back on Panacea.

  “Now, where the fuck is your boyfriend, bitch?”

  “Neither I nor Hermes, had any part in this,” Panacea snapped. “How dare you accuse me? And who do you think you're calling bitch?”

  “You, the bitch I'm about to cut if you don't tell me where Hermes is!” I started getting my chola on; shoulders hunching forward and fingers turning into claws. “I was promised that my child would be safe here, and you let some Greek dick blind you. Now, my little girl's missing, and you're fucking responsible.”

  “The hell, I am,” Panacea protested.

  “Whether or not you did it, you are most assuredly responsible,” Odin declared. “All of you were responsible for Lesya while she was here, under your care. It was your security that failed, and your hospital she from taken from. I'm holding you all accountable for this, and if Lesya is not found, alive and well, I shall destroy you along with your entire fucking island!”

  Odin's eyes blazed with fury and magic, his golden-oak hair lifting slightly in the eddies his power created. The women cringed away from him and then turned to flee. Odin grabbed Hygieia by the back of her neck and shoved her, face first, into a wall.

  “Find our daughter, or you shall suffer,” he snarled into her ear and then pushed her away from him as if he couldn't stand to touch her.

  Hygieia fell right into Panacea, and the women ran from the room.

  Odin turned to me, and my knees buckled. He caught me as I fell. All of my men circled in tight around me and held me as I wept. All except for Kirill, who had shifted into his lion form and was tearing the room apart.

  Chapter Eleven

  The entire island was searched, including both Hygieia's and her father's clinics, even though we knew that Lesya wasn't there. The receptionist was questioned after she had been healed, but her attacker had used an invisibility spell, just as Panacea had theorized. The woman hadn't even seen the blow coming. Still, she was a goddess and had fast healing abilities all on her own. She had already been coming to when the kidnapper had left, still using an invisibility spell. But this time, she'd heard a baby crying, and she had tried to push herself into their path. A hand had grabbed her and shoved her aside. The receptionist was certain that the hand belonged to a man. Not much to go on, but at least it was something. As was her attempt to stop Lesya's abductor, which I thanked her for.

  I wasn't ruling Hermes out, no matter who vouched for him, and after the sex of the abductor had been reported, I decided that the messenger god needed to be questioned, at the very least. Immediately. I told Panacea that she could either take us to Hermes or we would find a way to reach him on our own, and it would go far worse for Hermes that way.

  She decided to escort us to her boyfriend.

  I had thought that Hermes lived on Olympus, but several Olympians had sub-territories separate from the main mountain. This was a relief since it took a lot of effort to get to Olympus, though I was told that the passage had been made a bit easier since its fall. But that was moot. Hermes had himself a private island.

  Not too surprising really. Hygieia and her family had an island for their clinics, Pan had one for the religiously-orphaned child souls he provided an afterlife for (Neverland), Demeter had an island once too (now it belonged to Persephone), and look at the Celts–they had island fever. The island that Panacea took us to, however, was closer in appearance to New York than Neverland. At the center of the island, there were massive iron walls guarding a modern city of steel and glass. In the center of the city, there was a metal and stone fortress with asphalt-covered roads leading up to it. The island appeared to be wired for electricity, though everything was powered by magic in the God Realm. Normally, you didn't see the light sources. On Hermes's island, though, they were in lampposts and streetlights, glimmering across the rocky shore and then all the way up to the top of the highest tower.

  Beyond the walls of the city, there weren't any constructions except for a small parking lot with a row of vehicles parked in it and a tracing building. Lampposts illuminated the parking lot, making it look very mundane.

  We stood on the blacktop, having just exited the tracing chamber which looked like the entrance to a subway station, and stared up at the city before us. Gods never stopped surprising me, no matter how long I'd been a part of their world, but this modern territory, that appeared to be constructed by humans, was especially baffling. I'd seen several gods who'd been involved with technology, but a god embracing the trappings of technology–now that was new to me.

  “Come on; I don't have all day to stand around while you gawk,” Panacea growled and headed toward the cars.

  We exchanged grim looks and followed her. If this woman was involved in Lesya's disappearance in any way, I was going to take great pleasure in beating her senseless.

  “Perhaps we should have notified Pan that we were on our way to interrogate his father,” Odin noted. “It seems like it would have been the courteous thing to do for a friend.”

  “The last thing we need is Pan getting in the middle of this,” I said in a low tone. “Either way, his feelings will be hurt, and he will pose a distraction, if not a full-out hindrance. I can't deal with him right now. He's just going to have to forgive me for that.”

  “Da”–Kirill nodded–“is better zis vay.”

  “You're wasting your time”–Panacea got into the driver's seat of a SUV–“Hermes wouldn't do this. I know him.”

  “Yeah”–I slid into the front passenger seat–“there have been men who I thought I knew too. Love can make us more vulnerable to deception.”

  “Not this love,” Panacea vowed, then turned on the car.

  She pulled out of the lot and headed toward the city. I decided not to argue with her. You never know, she could be right. Maybe what she had with Hermes was real, and she knew her man's morality. But from my interactions with the god, I doubted it highly. Pan was like the god of paparazzi; just imagine their level of intrusive abuse and total lack of regard for anyone but themselves, and multiply that by ten; then you'll have Hermes.

  A nicely trimmed bit of grass formed a border between the iron city walls and the sea. It was spotted with a few trees, but mainly, it was just an open space. Easy to defend; easy to see enemies approaching across. I started to see the thought process behind Hermes's design. If you had a lot of enemies, this was the type of home you'd want. When we neared the gates, Panacea pressed a button on the console of the car.

  A man's voice came through the car speakers, “State your name and business.”

  “Panacea to see Hermes,” she said, “and I have the Godhunter with me.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Yes, ma'am,” the voice finally responded.

  A pair of massive gates swung open just in time for our SUV to pass through. Then we were driving down the main road of Hermes-burg... Hermes-ville... Hermes-tropolis... Hermopolis! Yes, we were driving down the main thoroughfare of Hermopolis, and we all stared out of the windows with a bit of grudging admiration.

  Hermopolis was cleaner than any human city had ever been, even on the first day of their completion. Cement walls were nearly pure white, steel beams were polished to a mirror shine, and every window sparkled. Patches of grass were laid out in tidy rectangles in the sidewalks, with moderately sized trees of equal heights placed in their exact centers. There wasn't a single piece of rubbish to be found, and every person there–gods to
the last one–was immaculate in dress and appearance. It was like a city of corporate elite or something out of a Science Fiction film. I half expected to see men floating by us on hoverboards or wearing rocket suits. Though, I suppose gods didn't need either of those things.

  We received a few curious glances from the citizens, but, for the most part, we continued past them without much regard. These gods were busy doing... well, I have no clue what it was that they were doing in Hermopolis, but they were busy at it. As busy as Hermes himself was, I'm sure.

  Panacea drove through another set of metal gates; these were quite a bit smaller than the first but no less imposing. She pulled into a parking lot and parked in a space marked “visitor” and then got out of the car. We followed her up a set of stone steps to a soaring, Art Deco-inspired building with arching glass doors that matched the cement curves of the building itself.

  “Is this where Clark Kent works?” I asked Panacea.

  “Good guess,” she admitted reluctantly. “Hermes patterned this building off the one that housed the Daily Star in the Superman comics. It's an homage.”

  “Uh-huh. I never pegged Hermes as a comic fan, but it explains a lot.” I kept my eyes peeled and an ear out for sounds of a baby as we walked through the halls of the Daily Star– I mean the Hermes Herald.

  Although Hermes wasn't the only herald (god reporter), he ran the only god newspaper in all the realms. I guess being a messenger god had set him up for it. Either that or he was just a nosy bastard. I was leaning towards the later. Hermes and I had been at odds from our very first introduction at the opening of Moonshine, years ago. I thought that he'd eventually get over the fact that I'd killed his lover, Aphrodite. She had been married to Hephaestus and had hoards of other lovers in addition to Hermes. But none of Aphrodite's men had cared that they weren't the only one. Well, none except for her husband. Ironically, Hephaestus was the only god who hadn't tried to avenge Aphrodite's death. Also ironically, my love life mirrored hers a bit. I'm committed to all of my lovers and don't cheat on them, but we were both polyamorous. Interesting; how had I never noticed that similarity before?

  “Why?” Hermes shoved the word through his clenched teeth. “Why would you bring her here, Panacea?”

  “I had no choice,” Panacea held up her hands. “It was either I bring her or she bullies her way in.”

  “That's so bloody ridiculous; I can't even form a response to that. As if anyone could bully their way into my territory,” Hermes huffed at Panacea, then transferred his stare to me. “What do you want, Godhunter?”

  “I want my daughter, asshole.” I strode forward, grabbed Hermes by his shirt, and lifted him off his feet. His eyes went wide as I felt mine fill with fire. “Where is she, you miserable kidnapping bastard?”

  “Kidnapping bastard?” Hermes looked genuinely shocked. “What, in all the realms, are you flapping your gums about?”

  “Someone took our daughter,” Kirill growled as he stalked closer. “From Hygieia's hospital. Vhere your girlfriend vorks.”

  Hermes blinked. He looked from Kirill to me, to the other men, to Panacea, and then finally settled his gaze back on me.

  “Put me down, Vervain,” it was the nicest tone Hermes had ever used with me.

  I did it, out of shock more than anything.

  “I didn't take your child,” Hermes said with even more care. “I, like my son, happen to love children, and I would never separate a child from its mother. I am sorry for your loss, but your daughter is not here.”

  We all narrowed our stares on him.

  “Truly, I am sorry,” Hermes said as Panacea went to his side.

  “See?” Panacea snapped. “He's a good man.”

  “Well, I wouldn't go quite that far, darling.” Hermes smirked.

  I crumpled to my knees and wept.

  Before Kirill, Trevor, or any of my lovers could reach me, Hermes had me in an embrace. He held me firmly against his slight chest and rocked me, smoothing my hair like a child's.

  “I understand,” he whispered. “Believe me, I do. It's okay, Vervain, we'll figure this out. I'm very good at figuring things out, and I will help you. I have connections that reach across the realms. We will find your missing daughter, I promise you.”

  I sniffed and looked up at Hermes in shock. “You should be reveling in my misery. Why would you help me?”

  “I lost a child once”–Hermes swallowed roughly–“a daughter, in fact. Her name was Angelia. Your angel owes his title to her. She was kidnapped when she was a child. Such a beauty she was, with wings of the purest white. One of my enemies stole her from her nursery when she was just a few months old.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “I found the motherfucker and tore him into tiny pieces,” Hermes said simply. “Exactly what we shall do to the filth who took your child. I offer you a truce, for the time being, Godhunter.” Hermes sat back on his heels and held his hand out to me. “Do you accept?”

  “I do.” I shook his hand.

  I would have agreed to any bargain, with anyone, at that moment, as long as they were offering to help me find Lesya.

  “Good.” Hermes stood and helped me up with him. “Then let's get started. The first forty-eight hours are the most important.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Hermes didn't give me a chance to fall apart again. He ushered us into his office, sat us all down, and then proceeded to interrogate us over everyone we had ever killed, injured, or even slightly offended. Basically, he wanted a list of my enemies.

  It was a long list.

  After we had written down the names of everyone I had ever pissed off, Hermes had us give him the names of everyone we could count on for help. Miracle of miracles, this list was much longer than the previous. Hermes handed off both lists to one of his numerous demi-god assistants, then turned to his computer and started typing.

  “Do you have a photo of her?” Hermes asked me.

  “A photo?” I blinked at him. “She was still in the incubator. I haven't even held her yet.”

  “I took photo,” Kirill said as he pulled out his cell phone. “I zought she vas beautiful in zere. So peaceful. Most parents only get ultrasound pictures, but ve vere able to vatch her grow.” He swallowed with some difficulty as he swiped though his photos, then handed the phone to Hermes. “Here she is.”

  I caught a glimpse of Lesya, suspended in sparkling blue liquid, her hand reaching out to the camera as if she knew her daddy was near. I choked on a sob, and Kirill's arm slid around my shoulder. He pulled me against him, and we took a moment to cry together.

  “Perfect; this will help,” Hermes said matter-of-factly, kindly ignoring our misery.

  I was going to have to rethink my hatred of Hermes when this was all over.

  “I'll distribute her picture through my network,” Hermes went on. “My assistants will contact your allies and start surveillance on your enemies. We will have something soon, I'm certain.”

  I looked up at him in shock. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” Hermes gave me a soft smile. “There's a procedure I follow when I need to locate someone. It always yields results. Do not despair, Vervain. Lesya shall be found.”

  “Thank you for your efforts,” Odin stood and held his hand out to Hermes. “If you find Lesya, we shall be in your debt. I assume you know the magnitude of that?”

  We all went still. That was something I hadn't considered; being in Hermes debt. Crap.

  “Odin”–Hermes stared at Odin's outstretched hand a moment before he took it–“you forget, old friend; you saved my son's life once. I am the one repaying a debt, and it has been long overdue.”

  Odin's expression shifted to surprise as he let go of Hermes's hand.

  “I had forgotten,” Odin said. “The day that Atlantis fell has become a blur for me. Honestly, I simply took as many with me as my boat could hold.”

  “And Pan was one of those lucky few,” Hermes said softly. “I may have issues with yo
ur wife, but you and I, Allfather; we have always been on good terms, whether or not you knew it. My gratitude to you runs deep. Pan is my most beloved son.”

  “Then we accept your help with equal gratitude,” Odin said. “And I know that I speak for all of us when I say that I hope this can do more than repay a debt between us. Perhaps this can put both our good and bad history behind us.”

  Hermes looked at me soberly.

  “You were her lover,” I said gently. “You must know what Aphrodite was capable of, especially with those who got in her way. She tried to kill me, was very close to succeeding, in fact. I acted on instinct to save myself. I honestly didn't even know what I was doing when I reached for her magic. I had no control over the draining power back then.”

  Hermes took a deep breath, let it out, and then nodded. “I have seen the bloodstains on the wall she chained you to,” he whispered. “I know that you speak the truth, but whether you were right or wrong has never been the point, Vervain. You killed the woman I loved, and love knows no morality. It simply is, and when it's murdered, it screams for vengeance.”

  “True. I can't argue that, not when I seek the very same vengeance for myself.” I stood and held my hand out to him. “Thank you for the truce, Hermes. I've let go of my anger toward you, even if you cannot reciprocate. I judged you unfairly, and I should have known better. Pan could not have possibly been born of an evil man.”

  Hermes smiled softly as he shook my hand. “He's a good boy. I think he got the best of his mother and me. Though I've often lamented his choice of friends.” He smirked, then he tapped his notebook. “We'll find your daughter, and then we'll see how long we can continue this tenuous truce, Godhunter.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  We traced home and came out of the tracing room dragging our feet. We were all exhausted; extreme emotions can do that to you, even when you have god-healing on your side. Several of my Intare, along with Torrent and Morpheus (who both had rooms in the palace) were standing there, waiting for us; expressions somber and shoulders tense.