Godhunter

by Amy Sumida

  “You’re refreshing as well,” he leaned an elbow on the table, placing his chin in it with a precise movement. “What were you doing there today in the company of gods, little witch?”

  “You first,” I stalled, “you said you’d tell me about vampires.”

  He made a small grunt of approval. “Indeed. Very well. Vampires, I don’t know who came up with the name, many think it was the Slavs, but I created them. Originally it was an accident. I didn’t know I could make humans like me. I was with a lover and I got… carried away,” I made a very unladylike snort but he ignored me. “I took too much blood and feared for her life, so I quickly worked a spell for her to accept my blood as replacement for hers. I thought I could do what you humans now call a transfusion and I thought the spell would make her blood compatible to mine.”

  “Worked a little too well, did it?” I leaned back against the cool stone and crossed my arms carefully to avoid the blades.

  “Yes, it worked very well,” he shook his head. “Isn't it how most great scientific advances are discovered, through accident? I gave her the transfusion and she immediately glowed with health and improved vitality. I was more than pleased until she began displaying the signs of need.”

  “Need for blood?”

  “Yes,” he actually looked a little sad. “She grew warm. I thought at first that she was having an adverse reaction and maybe even developed a fever but she kept getting hotter till it was obvious what she needed.”

  “You gave her blood?” He nodded solemnly and I pictured it in my head. Having a god for a lover, believing you were safe and special. Then having your lover almost kill you, turn you into a monster to save you, feeling as if you were about to spontaneously combust, and then discovering the only thing that could cool you down was a blood cocktail. “She must’ve been terrified.”

  “She was,” there was definitely a note of sorrow in his tone. Wonders never cease. “My priests asked to be changed afterward, preferring to take blood to survive instead of living off my life energy as they had been before. They embraced the change but she never forgave me. In fact, she left cursing my name when she was finally able to survive on her own. She in turn created more like her and over the centuries the curse altered, evolved, and became what it is today. It astounds me still, how fast it spread worldwide. I believe she did it on purpose, betraying me as I betrayed her, but I still miss her.”

  “I’m sorry,” holy hell, was I feeling sorry for Big Poppa Vampire? Yeah, I guess I was. Love is love no matter who feels it and the loss of it hurt like a bitch. The mere fact that he had felt it made me think better of him. A little.

  He smiled gently at me and his eyes went misty. “In trying to save her, I lost her. Is it not the way of love?”

  “Yeah,” I twisted my lips into a smile. “Love sucks, especially for you guys.”

  He threw himself back into his chair in a surprised fit of laughter. When he finally calmed, he had tears in his eyes. “Oh yes, little witch, I think I'll keep you for awhile.”

  “Hold on there, Dracula, I already got my hands full. I don’t need any more men in my life but thank you for the offer.”

  “You speak as though you have a choice,” his lips were still deceptively soft at the corners and he licked them so they glistened.

  “Well, you see what I figure is this,” I swung my feet up onto the slab of the table. “You must like your women willing or, like you’ve already said, we’d have gotten over the preliminaries by now.” He raised an eyebrow but kept silent. “So if I’m not willing and you won’t try anything unless I am, then I do have a choice.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to stay with me until you are willing,” he shrugged his shoulders like I was his already; it was just a matter of time. I hate men who are too sure of themselves. “Or I get bored and decide to kill you.”

  “Ah, a true romantic,” I grimaced.

  “A realist,” he purred. “When you've lived as long as I, it becomes harder for things to hold your interest and once my interest is gone, so is your purpose here.”

  “You could always just, oh I dunno,” I shrugged, “let me go.”

  “After you've seen my home, my secrets?” He raised a brow. “That wouldn't be prudent.”

  A shiver shot through me. If he had his way, the only way out for me would be death. I swallowed hard and tried to act nonchalant.

  “Paranoid much?”

  “Just plain survival instinct,” he spread his hands like there was nothing he could do about it.

  “So basically, you could attack me any second.” I wanted everything spelled out. “It's not like I got a thousand and one stories to entertain you with and who knows when you're gonna decide my lack of tact isn't funny any more. I'll have to sleep with these on,” I raised my gloved hands. “That's not really comfortable.”

  “No harm will come to you,” he let his gaze wander over the blades on my gloves, “ as long as you offer none to me or mine.”

  “Until?”

  “Until I decide otherwise.”

  “I rest my case,” I shook my head. If the situation wasn't so serious, I'd be laughing at the guy's childish debate tactics.

  “I give my word to notify you in advance,” his lips twitched a little and I strongly suspected he was enjoying himself.

  “You're gonna give me a heads up before you try to kill me?” I snorted, “Goodnight, Wesley, good work, most likely kill you in the morning,” I quoted The Princess Bride, half-hoping for a laugh, but he only frowned at me so I shook my head. “Great, thanks so much, Dread Pirate Roberts.”

  “It's more than I offer most of my enemies,” a little line appeared between his startling eyes. “At least you can sleep without your gloves. Who is Wesley?”

  “Fair enough,” I conceded, ignoring his ridiculous question. Who doesn't know The Princess Bride? Besides, it was more than I'd offer him too. Given the chance, I'd kill him with any means available to me. In his sleep if possible. I know, not very honorable but I'd adjusted my sense of honor when I started hunting gods. I'm only human. Even with my magic, the odds are stacked against me. I do what I have to do to even things out.

  We shared a long intense look, sizing each other up. I felt my stomach turn as I watched a cold calculation fill his eyes. He looked at me like he could see my entire future, not because he was psychic but because he was going to create it. In those eyes I saw enslavement, torture, and finally death but more importantly, I saw the pleasure he'd find in each. This was one sick mother.

  Before I could give in to the nausea and vomit all over his beautiful table, a group of people walked in and ended our staring match. Led by a sharp dressed Chinese man, they stopped short when they saw us and I quickly pulled my legs off the table in case I needed them to do some running.

  My unease must have been obvious because Huitzilopochtli held his hand up, “Vervain, calm yourself, I've already told you no harm will come to you. You have the word of a god, what else do you need?”

  “Less bad asses coming toward me would be a good start,” I muttered but made an effort to at least look like I was relaxed.

  “Did you just say you granted this human protection?” The woman speaking was gorgeous and runway model tall. She had long golden hair trailing to her feet. It caught the sunlight and sparkled, making her look like she was wearing a living crown. Her voice was high but soft and curious. I looked down at my sweat-stained self and grimaced. Yay, I'd get to add a feeling of inadequacy to my gut-churning terror.

  “I've granted her a reprieve,” Huitzilopochtli’s eyes glittered. “Come in everyone and meet my new guest.” He waved a hand imperiously at me.

  “Is this your new concubine?” A smaller woman stepped around the bright Amazon. She was as dark as the other was light, as petite as the other was tall. They were a perfect foil for one another. And did she just call me a concubine?

  “You always did have a thing for humans,” a Native American with a black mohawk eyed me. His haird
o looked odd paired with his Brooks Brothers suit but who was I, the fashion police? “I have no idea why.”

  “Me either,” I mumbled.

  “She's a prospect,” Huitzilopochtli stretched his arms along the back of his chair and looked me over yet again. I was beginning to feel like a whore for horny gods. Maybe that was it, maybe the gods just thought all human women were easy. Maybe goddesses were high maintenance and took a lot of effort to get into bed. I looked over the blonde and decided it must be true.

  “You've brought a mere potential lover here? Now?” The Chinese man finally spoke and his voice had the clipped tones of a military commander. He held himself like a soldier as well, back straight, arms loose at his sides, one near the hilt of a long sword hung on his hip. He had a thick black braid hanging down his back. It swung a little even though he held himself rigidly still.

  “She interrupted my work,” Huitzilopochtli slowly tore his eyes away from me to regard his friends. “She was at the rally with Thor, and a few others probably, though I didn't see them. She saved that son of yours, Lir.”

  A stocky, dark-haired man looked over at me and his gaze was a mixture of respect, rage and relief. It was one of the strangest looks I’d ever seen, next to the Vampire God’s stare of doom, of course. He thankfully transferred the look to Huitzilopochtli.

  “So you failed, Hummingbird.” Lir made it a statement not a question.

  “Hummingbird?” I shifted my gaze to the Aztec with a look that clearly said he wouldn’t live that one down but he seemed completely unfazed by it.

  “Yes, Fiachra lives,” Huitzilopochtli shrugged, ignoring my interruption.

  “Who’s Fiachra?” I looked from one man to the other until it clicked. “Oh, the guy giving the speech was your son? Wow, he must take after his mom, huh?” I tried to compare this guys craggy countenance with the perfection of his son's and just couldn't see the resemblance.

  Lir went back to glaring at me. “Who are you?”

  “Me?” Ooops, now what? “I’m nobody. Just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You know how it is.”

  “With Thor?” Mr. Hummingbird raised his perfect brow again.

  “Was that who that was? Thor? As in the Viking god?” I was trying real hard to look innocent but I’d never been good at it. “He said his name was Mark.”

  Huitzilopochtli shook his head. “If you continue to lie to me, Vervain, I’ll be forced to take the truth from you. I know you're important to him. He made it abundantly clear when he charged me, shouting your name.”

  I swallowed past the dry lump which had suddenly formed in my throat. Thor charged him? I vaguely remembered hearing someone shouting for me. It must have been Thor but important to him? Doubtful. He was probably just upset that his enemy made off with someone from his group. Then again, he did say they needed me. Maybe I was important, just not in the way my perverted mind had initially assumed. I couldn't help it. You try being surrounded by gorgeous men and not think about sex. Not possible. Plus, there was that kiss.

  “Why don’t you introduce me to your friends first, Hummingbird?” Stalling was always a good option in my book.

  “My name means ‘Blue Hummingbird on the left', little witch. I’m the Sun God and the sun rises from the South, the left-hand, and is brought by the hummingbird,” he made a soft sound of mirth. “You’re teasing I’ll take as a sign of affection but you’ll tell me the truth of your involvement with the Viking.”

  Go figure, I’d been telling my boyfriends for years that my endless barbs were a form of affection. That’s love, baby, I’d say. None of them had accepted my explanation and now here was this god taking my true insults for affection. How typical.

  “Yeah, I'm so into guys who threaten to kill me when they get bored,” I rolled my eyes. “Look, you’ll get your truth when I get mine. Who are these people and what are you guys up to?”

  “She makes demands now?” The Asian was at it again.

  “Let her be, Kuan Ti,” the blonde actually spoke up for me. I hate it when they're beautiful and nice. “She's obviously frightened.” She had the face of an angel, no, a face that would make an angel weep to realize that compared to her, they were hideous. Her body was long and slim but curved at hip and chest. Her skin was creamy gold and was so perfect it practically glowed. She was amazing and Hummingbird didn’t look twice. What was with these gods? How exactly do you become immune to heart-wrenching beauty?

  “Kuan Ti, she’s my problem not yours.” Huitzilopochtli turned to me and gestured to the angel. “Vervain meet Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, Sex, War, and Victory.”

  “Pleasure,” I nodded at her. The Goddess of Love, yeah, big surprise there.

  “Yes, that too,” she winked and crossed her long white arms over her pristine white linen suit. She was all white, gold, pink, and perfect. Her scent wafted to me and I couldn't stop myself from inhaling deep. She smelled plasticky sweet, like a Strawberry Shortcake doll I had as a child. I had a sudden flash of burying my face in the shiny red hair, the fake aroma of strawberries enveloping me. On a very deep level my brain immediately equated her to happiness and I had an overwhelming urge to bury my face in her hair like I used to do with my doll. I quickly blinked away the odd sensation.

  Huitzilopochtli got up, came around the table and helped me to my feet. He placed my hand through his arm and escorted me to the Chinese man. Why he hadn’t felt the need to bring me over to meet Aphrodite was beyond me but if he wanted to insult a goddess, it was his business. Or maybe he just thought I wouldn't like to be close enough to her to force a comparison.

  “This is Kuan Ti,” he gave the man a nod. “He’s a god of war but originally he was a General in the Imperial army of China and he’s also a friend.” He said the last as if it were the most important achievement of all.

  I extended my hand to shake Kuan Ti’s but the General took mine firmly in both of his and bent over it to place a quick kiss on my glove, right over the blades.

  “What lovely gloves you have,” he smiled. “Forgive my abruptness. We are in the midst of battle and it has brought out the soldier in me.”

  “No prob, General,” I pulled away from Huitzilopochtli to pull on the lever that sheathed the blades. “As you can see, I was prepared for battle as well. That's what happens when you're snatched from a crime scene.”

  “A battle scene,” Huitzilopochtli corrected.

  “I wouldn’t call two men with guns against a crowd of unarmed people a battle.” I put my hands on my hips.

  “A small skirmish then,” Huitzilopochtli took my arm back, led me away from Kuan Ti, and over to the other man. “This is Lir, whose son you saved today. Don’t expect him to be grateful though, it was his idea to kill Fiachra in the first place.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I hadn’t extended my hand to him and I didn’t intend to.

  “My son was cursed by a jealous mistress. She cursed all my children in fact. Turned them into swans and turned their hearts against me. Fiachra and his siblings have been plaguing me ever since.”

  “I saw a man today, not a swan,” a beautiful man who looked nothing like this bad-tempered asshole.

  “He changes at will now but it was not always so.” Lir grabbed my hand and shook it mechanically, then turned away and stalked from the room.

  “He’s a little temperamental when it concerns his children,” Huitzilopochtli turned me with a hand on my back and led me to the mohawked man. “This is Tawiskaron.”

  The Native American man didn't say a word, just held out his hand and shook mine. His eyes narrowed on me and I flinched when I saw them turn completely black. No, that's not an apt description. They didn't turn black, they just simply were not there anymore. In their place were two holes filled with darkness. As I held his hand, it felt like I was falling into that darkness and it was far from empty. Inside the twin pits of his eyes, things lurked. Horrifying things, whispering and chittering gleefully about the prospect of a new ar
rival. I tried to pull away, to lurch back, but I was caught firmly by both his hand and those eyes.

  I felt a scream start to crawl up my throat.

  “Vervain!” Huitzilopochtli pulled my hand out of Tawiskaron's and the terror finally abated. Tawiskaron's eyes were just dark brown once more, though they hovered over a sinister smile. My breath was coming hard and fast. “Tawiskaron!” Huitzilopochtli pushed me a little behind him. “Rein in the darkness. I think I was very clear when I said she was under my protection. I will not have her harmed by your demon ways.”

  I blinked and looked Tawiskaron over once more. Demon? Funny how I'd never considered that demons could exist. I guess the term was as relative as god was. If all the gods were really just displaced Atlanteans, then why couldn't they be demons as well? Some of those bastards sure did act evil enough. Speaking of which... Tawiskaron's face had fallen and even paled a little. I looked over at Huitzilopochtli and saw why.

  The Aztec's eyes were churning pools of blood. Pretty terrifying but I have to say, the pits of darkness scared me more. It must not have been simply the appearance of those eyes that sobered Tawiskaron but the meaning behind their appearance because he obviously disagreed with my assessment. I swallowed hard and began to back away from them both.

  Huitzilopochtli's hand snaked back and grabbed me before I could get too far. He shot one more menacing look to the cowed Tawiskaron, then led me to the small dark-skinned woman. Her short hair was a soft brown, so silky it almost looked like fur, and it stuck out from her head, begging for a comb. “This is Sarama, Messenger Goddess, Mother of all Dogs, and Bitch of Heaven.”

  “Excuse me?” I almost choked.

  “Yes?” She looked completely confused.

  “Your title is ‘Bitch of Heaven’?” I was about to lose it. Deep breath, in, out, don't laugh at the little dog goddess.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, that’s just too easy,” I couldn’t do it. I’d save it for later.

  “I don’t understand,” she frowned at me.