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

Page 9

by Amy Sumida


  “Fuck me,” I whispered in horror.

  “I did, darling. Or rather; you fucked me.” Eros smirked. “But that was just our magic. I'm sure it wouldn't hold a candle to the real thing.”

  “The real thing isn't going to happen between us,” I said firmly. “Let's just get that straight right now.”

  “We shall see.”

  “Is Himeros here?” I decided just to ignore this idiocy and get to the point.

  “The heavens opened their arms and presented their glory to me in the form of a woman.” A man got up from a chaise lounge; his puppy dog eyes focused on me. “Who are you, Goddess? I must know your name.”

  “This is Vervain Lavine,” Eros declared. “Do you not recognize my counterpart?”

  “Ah, of course,” the man lamented, a lock of blond hair falling into his sad, brown eyes. “I am cursed by my own magic–ever wanting, never satisfied.”

  “Hey, Pothos,” Morpheus called out to him.

  “Hey, Morpheus,” Pothos brightened briefly. “It's good to see you out of the Underworld.”

  “Yeah, it gets a bit dreary there,” Morpheus agreed. “I've been staying with Vervain for awhile now.”

  “Maybe I should move into your cave while you're gone.” Pothos sighed. “It would suit me better.”

  “Stop whining,” another god said as he entered the room. Then he saw me and stopped short. “What have we here?”

  “She's mine,” Eros said sternly. “Stay away from her, Hedylogos.”

  “I am most assuredly not yours,” I snapped as I yanked my hand free of Eros.

  “My love, don't be so rash,” Eros begged. “You need some time to work through this; I understand that. But I'm sure that your magic will make it clear to you that we are simply meant to be.”

  “Look, Jack”–I pointed in his face again–“I'm not your Sally. Back off.”

  “She says that she's not taken.” Hedylogos, who happened to be just as beautiful as Eros, smirked as he sauntered over to me. “Obviously, she's a woman of discerning taste. Intelligence and beauty, what a rare delight.”

  “Knock it off, Hedy.” Morpheus rolled his eyes, then turned to me. “He's the God of Sweet Talk and Flattery.”

  “Evidently,” I said dryly.

  The sweet talker winked at me, took my arm, and led me to a sofa. We sat down, and he laid his arm behind me, leaning into my side with a wicked look in his dark eyes. His lush lips had an upward tilt to them that made it appear as if he knew a particularly juicy secret.

  “We all you owe you a debt of gratitude, Godhunter,” Hedylogos said. “Zeus had practically turned us into slaves, and then you came along and freed us. You're our savior. The Liberator of Olympus.”

  “I had a lot of help.” I glared harder at Morpheus, whose face was turning red from laughter.

  “I heard a woman's voice.” Yet another man walked into the spacious living room. “Do we have company?”

  The new guy had brown, wavy hair, falling to just above his shoulders, denim-blue eyes, and a very satisfied look about him. He spotted me and made a beeline for the open seat beside me, but Eros slipped in beside me first. It was like a ridiculous game of musical chairs.

  “I am Anteros.” The seat-less man bowed to me, acting as if that had been his intentions all along.

  “Vervain,” I said, “nice to meet you. Let me guess; you're the God of One Night Stands?”

  All of the men burst into laughter, including the moping Pothos, who held a hand to his mouth in shock.

  “I don't remember the last time that I laughed like that,” Pothos said with wonder.

  “Vervain will do that to you.” Morpheus chuckled.

  “I'm hoping that's not all you'll do to me.” Hedylogos slid a palm onto my thigh.

  “I told you that she's mine!” Eros pushed Hedylogos's hand away.

  “Enough!” I stood, dislodging both men. “Where is Himeros?”

  “Right here, bitch,” Himeros said from a doorway. “Come for a rematch? I'd be happy to show you what I'm capable of when I haven't been knocked out from a cowardly blow to the back of my head.”

  I didn't even bother with banter. As the other men shouted various disparaging things at Himeros for daring to insult me, I walked over to him, shifting my hand into a claw as I went. I grabbed Himeros by the front of his stupid toga. I have no idea why Himeros was wearing a toga, none of the other Erotes were, but it made for an interesting situation when I lifted him off his feet by it.

  Togas aren't really made for that sort of thing. There's not much sleeve to them, and the main body drapes excessively. So, when you grab a bit of it and lift, the rest of the fabric sort of goes along for the ride. Himeros was nearly naked by the time I had enough material in hand to lift him. It bunched weird too, forcing me to gather it tighter and tighter till I was practically strangling him. His man-bits were flopping about disgracefully as he clutched at my hand and turned red.

  “Do you have her, you boy-band wannabe?” I shook him. “Do you have my daughter? Nod for 'yes,' shake your head for 'no.'”

  Himeros tried to shake his head.

  “Still interested in fighting me?”

  Another head shake.

  “Is anyone else totally turned on right now?” Eros asked with a voice gone considerably deeper.

  “All of us except for Himeros.” Hedylogos smirked as he waved at hand at Himeros's floppy bits.

  I dropped Himeros and then crouched before him, angling my face into his. “You won't mind if I search the place, will you?”

  “Fuck you, Godhunter!” Himeros gasped.

  I started to reach for him again.

  “Go ahead!” He scooted back across the marble floor, making a ridiculous squeaking sound with his bare butt. The toga had fallen strangely. “Search all you want. Your spawn isn't here, and I hope that whoever has her never gives her back.”

  “Oh, that was the wrong thing to say,” Morpheus chided Himeros.

  I punched Himeros in the nose. Really hard. It made a very satisfying crunching sound. I stood up, stepped over Himeros's prone body, and then paused to look back at the others.

  “Morph, can you watch this idiot?”

  “Sure thing, V.”

  “Thank you.” I turned to the Erotes. “So? Who's going to show me around?”

  They all leapt to their feet.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “If only there were a god who could save me from the Greek gods.” I moaned as we finally escaped the clutches of the Erotes.

  “They weren't that bad,” Morpheus said. “They're lovers, not fighters.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” I huffed. “Himeros was horrible at it. What made him think that he could best me?”

  “That kid has always been a moron,” Morpheus said. “I remember him strutting about acting like he was so great because he was the God of Desire, son of Aphrodite and Ares.”

  “That's why he thought he could be a lover and a fighter.” I grimaced.

  “Yeah, but Ares knew better.” Morpheus chuckled. “He never bothered to teach Himeros to fight because he knew the kid had no aptitude for it.”

  “So I surmised.” I laughed. “I almost feel sorry for Himeros.”

  “Yeah, if Himeros had been smart, he would have just introduced you to the other Erotes,” Morpheus said. “They were far more aggravating for you than Himeros himself could ever be.”

  “Remind me to never come back to Olympus.” I sighed, thinking about Eros's claims again. Another man was the last thing I needed.

  “That would be a shame,” a deep, male voice came from behind us. “Especially since my grandson seems to favor your company.”

  “Grandpa!” Morpheus exclaimed as he swung around.

  Morpheus rushed by me, and I turned to see him hugging a ruggedly handsome man with sin-black hair cut in a military-precision style and eyes that were fully black, from lid to lid. I've seen eyes like those before, so they weren't as jarring as they might have bee
n, but still, black sclera eyes were always unsettling. The rest of the guy looked normal; muscular in a slim way, as most of the Greek gods were, tall but not too tall, and fair-skinned. He bore a remarkable resemblance to Morpheus, so I wasn't surprised to hear that they were related. I was surprised that Morpheus had a relation who I hadn't known about, and that the relation was his grandfather.

  “Grandpa?” I asked as I approached them. “Paternal or maternal?”

  “Paternal,” the man said as he held his hand out to me. “I'm Hypnos's father, Erebus.”

  “I'm sorry for your loss,” I murmured as I shook his hand.

  “Ah, what irony.” Erebus smirked.

  “Vervain didn't kill Dad,” Morpheus defended me.

  “No, one of her lovers did it,” he said.

  “Toby isn't... well, he was once, but that was... yeah, whatever.” I gave up.

  “She's amusing.” Erebus chuckled.

  “I am sorry about Hypnos. It was a bad situation,” I said sincerely.

  “Hypnos had his faults,” Erebus mused, “but he was my son, and I loved him dearly. Just as I loved Phantasus.”

  “Now, that death I take absolutely no responsibility for.” I held up my hands.

  “No, I know that you're not responsible for Phantasus's death, that was Morvran.”

  “You're well informed,” I noted.

  “I read the Herald.” He shrugged.

  “Speaking of which”–Morpheus glanced my way–“we're here because–”

  “Vervain's daughter is missing,” Erebus finished. “Yes, I'm aware of that as well. You have your sights set on Zeus, is that correct?”

  “He's a person of interest,” I said vaguely–again feeling like I was on a cop show.

  “I'd look elsewhere if I were you,” Erebus advised. “I've known Zeus as long as anyone, I suppose, but I think I have a better insight than most. You see, I'm Zeus's friend.”

  “You tell me that you're Zeus's friend, and then you want me to take your advice and not look for him?” I scoffed.

  “It does sound suspicious, but if I wanted to deceive you, why would I tell you of our connection?”

  “To make me think that I can trust you.” I smirked.

  “True, that would be genius,” he agreed. “Then hear me out with a grain of a salt. Zeus can be a real bastard; he is capable of sinking to terrible levels of evil to accomplish whatever goal he's after. But he does so only when the reward is great, and there is no reward in taking your child, Godhunter.”

  “There's revenge,” I said succinctly. “And, by the way, where did that whole 'grain of salt' thing come from? It's kind of weird, isn't it?”

  “Everything is more palatable with a grain of salt,” Erebus explained as he spread his hands.

  “Ah, but revenge is a dish best served cold,” I countered.

  “That it is,” Erebus agreed. “But Zeus has never been a god swayed by vengeance. He's much too practical for that. If you chase after the echoes of his thunder, Vervain, you will be running toward an empty horizon.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” I said evasively.

  “You're still going to chase his thunder, aren't you?” Erebus chuckled.

  “I can't help it.” I shrugged. “My daughter is missing; I'll follow every lead I have, even if I end up chasing my own tail.”

  “You very well may,” Erebus noted.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After Morpheus spent some time with his grandfather and promised to return to Olympus to soon, we headed back to the rendezvous point: Hades's Palace. We met the others there and were told that their searches had been just as unsuccessful as ours. We were tired and frustrated, but we had to search the Underworld next. There were just too many Greek names on my enemy list. And one of them happened to be another member of Morpheus's family; his brother, Phobetor.

  I didn't want to go back into the Cave of Dreams; I'd seen some horrid illusions in there. But I'd rather it be me walking through the magic-infused, stone passageways than one of my loved ones. So, I flew off with Morpheus again, this time to his home in the Land of Dreams.

  The others split up to cover the Underworld; Hades, Odin, Vidar, and Vali went into Tartarus with one group of Intare while Persephone searched the Vale of Mourning with even more of my lions. Those were the main areas of concern in Hades's portion of the Greek territory, so Hades and Persephone wanted to chaperone the groups searching them. By “areas of concern” I mean that they're unsettling and sometimes downright dangerous. The rest of the Squad, Lugh, and the Intare broke into more groups and searched the remaining sections of the Underworld that were less likely to give them problems.

  When Morpheus and I landed in front of the Cave of Dreams, I couldn't see the entrance. There appeared to be a solid mountain before us, no cave at all. I frowned and looked to Morpheus.

  “I sealed it off,” Morph said, “so Phobetor couldn't access the Gate of Horn.”

  “That was smart,” I noted, “but why didn't you mention that earlier? We don't need to search a sealed cave.”

  “It's an illusion ward.” Morpheus waved his hand toward the mountainside. “He may have managed to get past it. I thought we should check it out, just in case.”

  “Oh, okay.” I headed forward, my clawed feet digging into the dry earth.

  Nothing much grew outside of the Oneiroi Cave, which was pretty much as it had always been. But now, it felt more desolate, like the land had given up without its masters present. Funny how a place could feel abandoned even when its appearance remained the same. I suppose it wasn't abandoned entirely, though. Morph had been living in it alone for awhile, but I had him move in with us during the drama with Morrigan. Morpheus had killed Morrigan's bestie, Morvran, in retaliation for Morvran killing Morpheus's brother, Phantasus. I had worried that Morrigan might come after Morpheus to complete the circle of vengeance. Morpheus was a pretty kick-ass god, but I was concerned about him facing Morrigan on his own. Now that she was dead, though, he would probably move back home.

  An owl hooted in the night; it was always night in the Land of Dreams. Yes, I know, there were a lot of “dream” titles; Realm of Dreams, Land of Dreams, Cave of Dreams, God of Dreams. The Greeks could be quite creative when they wanted to, but, ironically, they seemed to miss the mark with the Oneiroi.

  I looked up and searched the sky. There was a speck of white above and to the West of us, growing larger as I watched. Morpheus came to stand beside me, looking interested instead of concerned. That was enough reason for me to not worry about the bird. Morph knew this land better than anyone, it was his family's portion of the Greek Underworld, and there were only three members of his family left alive: Erebus, who'd I'd just met, Phobetor, who may or may not be inside the cave, and Pasithea, Morpheus's mother, who was thankfully under guard on Dionysus's island.

  Pasithea was the daughter of Hera and Dionysus, so Di was a little lax in his role as jailer at first. But, after we'd had some problems with Pasithea making the god drug Net, and distributing it despite her “imprisonment,” Dionysus buckled down and got more serious about guarding his daughter. Still, Trevor made sure to search Di's island personally, and he found Pasithea restrained with magical bonds. She hadn't gone anywhere or manufactured any new god drugs. Which earned her a nice line through her name on my enemy list.

  “It looks as if Athena has found something,” Morpheus noted as the owl descended. “That's Alex.”

  “Alex?”

  “Athena's owl.” Morpheus glanced at me. “You haven't met Alex?”

  “No.” I chuckled. “Her owl's name is Alex?”

  “Your cat's name is Nick,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, but my cat isn't an ancient Greek familiar.”

  “Alex is short for Aleksanteri.” Morph grinned broadly and then lifted his hand.

  An owl named Alex landed on Morpheus's wrist. His feathers were so white that they glowed in the moonlight. Massive, round eyes peered at me as the owl's head cocked
to the side at an impossible angle. Freaky birds, but also fascinating.

  “Hello, Alex,” I said. “I'm Vervain.”

  “Greetings, Godhunter,” the owl said in a refined voice.

  I would have been shocked by his speech, if not for two things: one–Morpheus had already alluded to the owl being capable of communication when he questioned me about meeting him, and two–I'd met a talking pegasus in Hades's garden once. After you meet a talking, flying horse, you become a little jaded where all other chattering creatures were concerned.

  “Hey, Alex,” Morpheus added cheerily. “Athena sent you?”

  “My mistress bade me tell you of the whereabouts of Zeus,” the owl intoned.

  “She found Zeus?” I asked. “Fantastic! Where is he?”

  “In a land called Ark-and-Saw,” Alex said gravely.

  “Ark-and-Saw?” Morpheus frowned. “Where the hell is that? It sounds like a carpenter's paradise. Maybe Jesus will know where it is.”

  “It's in the United States of the Americas.” Alex looked at Morpheus like he was a bit slow.

  “Arkansas!” I said with an air of revelation.

  “As I said.” The owl gave me a droll look. “The exact location can be found here.” He lifted a foot to show us a rolled up piece of parchment that was attached to his leg.

  I untied the paper from Alex's leg and looked it over. It was a map with a location noted on it with an X, and also with coordinates. Very thorough, but I wouldn't have expected anything less from Athena.

  “Thank you, Aleksanteri”–I gave the owl a little head bow–“and please convey my gratitude to your mistress.”

  “Your most welcome, Godhunter.” Alex fluffed his feathers with an air of importance. Then he leapt into the air and flew back to Olympus.

  “What was all that?” Morpheus laughed and then mimicked me, “'Please convey my gratitude.' I've never heard you talk like that before.”

  “The owl wanted some pomp, so I gave it to him.” I shrugged.

  “Aw, that was nice of you, V.”

  “It costs nothing to be kind,” I said in my mom-voice.

 

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