by Amy Sumida
“Yeah, okay,” Sin conceded. Then he went serious again. “I'll help you if you need me to.”
“With drenching Marduk?”
“Yes. I have the same talent, remember?”
“Nah, I think I can handle a little water.” I grinned.
“All right, Godhunter. Get down with your bad self.”
I cringed. “Oh, that was dated.”
“It was not,” he protested.
“Um, yes, I'm sorry, playa, but it was.”
“Ugh, is this how you seduce men? You frustrate and confuse them till they just kiss you to shut you up?”
“Yes, you have discovered yet another of my diabolical plots,” I said in a nefarious tone.
Sin laughed softly. “Diabolical indeed. But, as I mentioned, I like the mean girls.”
“Well, this mean girl is grateful for your advice,” I said softly. “Thank you, Sin.”
Sin blinked at me, something flashing within the silver of his stare, and then nodded self-consciously. “Yeah, sure. No problem.” He stood up abruptly. “I'll, ah, let you get on with whatever you were about to do before I interrupted you.”
“Goodnight,” I called after him.
“Goodnight,” he replied without looking back at me.
“Water,” I murmured to myself. “So many damn jokes and no one I can tell them to.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“We can't fight a battle in the middle of Bahrain,” Thor argued.
We had gathered to discuss our next move. The God Squad was all there, seated at the long dining table in the Pride's hall, along with my men, several Intare, Zimri-dagan, Sin, Ninkasi, Athena, Fenrir, Ty, UnnúlfR, and Luke. Yes, I had the Devil on my side. Lucifer looked anything but intimidating, dressed in khakis and a yacht sweater. He didn't even have his sparkling wings out. Sitting beside Fenrir, Trevor's ferocious father, Luke looked downright frail. His wife, Holly the Holy Spirit, had stayed home in Hell or he would have looked even more unassuming. Instead of Holly, Azrael sat on his father's left, his wings put away as well. Morpheus was the only winged god at the table.
Until the Archangel Michael walked in.
“How's it hanging, God Squadders?” Mike grinned and posed just inside the doorway, snowy wings extended dramatically.
Michael looked as if he should be painted or sculpted or made into a fountain. Those classic, Angel features were sweet enough to give me a toothache. Mike tossed his golden curls, light flashed off his pearly grin, and mischief twinkled in his sky-blue eyes. All I saw was trouble.
“Hey, Big M, what are you doing here?” I called out to him.
Thor rolled his eyes. “Nothing has changed.”
“Vervain!” Michael pointed at me. “Girl, I heard you needed some help, and your husband didn't bother to ask me for any. So, I took it upon myself to bring you a little present.”
“Let me guess; you're the present?” I smirked. “Gee, Mike, and it's not even my birthday.”
“Oh, come on. I'm not that egotistical,” Mike huffed.
A snort of laughter echoed in from the hallway outside.
“Damn it, don't ruin my surprise!” Mike shot over his wings at whoever the snorter was. Then he grinned at the room again. “I have brought you... the Horsemen of the Apocalypse!” He snapped his wings down and stepped aside with a wave of his hand toward the doorway.
“Well, three of the four,” Sam, AKA War, drawled as he strolled in with Ira (Famine) and Thaddeus (the Antichrist).
And yes, the Antichrist is a horseman.
“Aw, Mikey, you shouldn't have,” Azrael declared with a grin as he got up to welcome his fellow horsemen.
“Death!” Thaddeus—another buff, golden angel like Michael—opened his arms to Az.
“Hey, Ted, it's good of you to come.” Az gave him that back-pounding hug that men give each other.
“Wouldn't miss it for all the free buffets in Vegas,” Ira—gaunt and gorgeous like an androgynous male model—declared as he flicked his white bangs out of his face and grinned at Azrael.
“The Horsemen ride again!” Samuel shouted and pulled all of the men together into a group hug. “This is going to be awesome!”
Sam, like Az and Ted, looked as if he were built for battle, with sleek muscles and thick shoulders. His hair and eyes were somewhere in-between the other men's; a medium brown that made him seem more down-to-earth. Just your average guy next door. Except for the pair of crimson wings rising proudly over his shoulders. All of the horsemen had their wings out; all except for Death. Ted's gleaming white, Ira's hawk-brown, and Sam's blood-red feathers enfolded Azrael. But even without his wings, none of them could hold a candle to my husband's angelic yet devilish allure.
When they broke apart, Azrael went to hug Michael, his dark appeal even more startling against Mike's brightness. Sleek, black hair, like the pelt of a seal, an elegant nose with a perfect slope, strong yet soft lips, a firm jaw with chiseled angles, and those wicked cheekbones. As it is with all Angels, Azrael has his name written in Angelic script across his left cheek. The pale blue symbol glowed in response to the proximity of his brother riders, and his eyes, when he turned them toward me, sparkled like diamonds.
I grinned at my husband. If Az could find some happiness in this mess, more power to him.
“Come on in.” Azrael waved the men further into the dining hall. “We just started.”
The Horsemen and Michael followed Az to the end of the table where we were sitting; the end closest to the kitchen. It made it faster to grab a drink refill. The guys took seats together on the edge of our group.
“Hey, Luke!” Ted waved at Azrael's father.
“Hello, Thaddeus,” Lucifer said graciously. “Good to see all of you. Thank you for coming. Cid will be excited to hear that you'll be joining us.”
“Our pleasure.” Sam nodded. “Lookin' forward to seeing Cid again too.”
“We were just discussing battle tactics,” Thor got us back on track. “I don't think we should attack Marduk's home en masse. We don't want the humans to see us fighting.”
Tell the Thunderer not to worry about that, Al spoke into my mind. Marduk has moved. He's preparing for war as well.
“Snickerdoodles!” I hissed under my breath.
“I'm sorry, was that a curse or a request?” Sam winked at me.
“We're still trying to curb our cursing,” Az explained for me.
“The question you should be asking is why she cursed,” Thor rumbled and then looked pointedly at me.
I gave Thor a goofy grin.
“Vervain?” Thor scowled.
“Sorry, I'm just so happy to have you here all muscly and stuff.” I leaned over and hugged him.
Thor cleared his throat and drew back. “Thank you. It's good to be here.”
“Anyway, Alaric says that Marduk has moved and he's preparing for war,” I explained my cookie cussing.
A grim silence circled the table.
He's in Saudi Arabia now, the same place where you fought him before, Al went on. He wants you to find him, Vervain. He wants this battle as much as you.
I don't want this battle at all, I protested in my mind. Out loud, I said, “Marduk's at the site of our last battle, waiting for us.”
“That's good,” Odin said eagerly. “It's sandy ground but firm, out of sight of humans, and an open space. Does Al have any other information we can use?”
All of the Mesopotamians are with Marduk. They've built a fortress and stocked it with everything they need, but I don't think they intend to hide within it. They are training even now.
I repeated what Al said and glanced around the table. Everyone looked confident, more confident than I felt. Then I saw Sin. He winked at me, and I felt a tiny bit better. I hadn't told the others about his advice. If he didn't want people to know about him helping me, I wouldn't betray his confidence.
“When can you have those fire weapons delivered, Arach?” Odin asked.
“Our faeries will arrive
tonight,” Arach announced. “My ring took me back to an earlier time in Faerie, and we've used that extra time to forge the fire weapons. Before I left, I gave our army orders to travel to the Great Tree tonight and trace here to meet us.”
“What about the boys?” I asked.
“Isleen is staying behind with them,” Arach assured me. “Our sons are safe, A Thaisce.”
“Then we go to war tomorrow,” Trevor declared.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The number of Gods on that single plain in Saudi Arabia was staggering. Mind-blowing. I stared down the line of our troops feeling a little impressed at our own forces. To my right were the regal Egyptians, the ferocious Froekn, the gleaming Greeks, the terrifying Demons, and five angels who were even more frightening than the Demons. On my left were the stunning Valkyries, my fierce Intare, and the Wild Hunt of Faerie. Woven among all of them were the Ten Tribes of Jinn. Yes, even the Foot-Lickers had come to the war. The morning sun shone on golden armor, sleek fur, and rustling feathers. The howls of wolves and canine Hinn melded with the roars of lions, the yips of Jackals, and the savage, gleeful noises of the Fire Faeries, permeating the air with menace. God hands filled with magic but also clutched Fey weapons that would ignite with a single word.
Across the sand from us, a legion of Mesopotamian Gods faced us with solemn focus. I recognized Enlil—his platinum hair was hard to miss—and Enki, who I'd known well when I was the Dark Star, but most of the other gods were just unknown faces to me. Down from Enki stood his son, Marduk, and his face, in particular, bore an eager expression. Despite our impressive troops, which greatly outnumbered his, Marduk appeared certain of victory; it showed in every angle of his body. Wouldn't he be surprised?
Then a woman stepped up beside Marduk. She wore intricate leather armor that clung to her generous curves, but her nutmeg hair streamed down behind her unbound. I shook my head at that; it was just asking for trouble. You always put your hair up before battle. I preferred to braid mine around my head like a crown—it made for less of a handhold—but even a long braid would have been better than leaving all of that hair loose. Even if an enemy didn't grab it, it could snag on her armor. Still, it wasn't her hair that had caught my attention. It was the fact that she was riding a lion.
My Intare, already shifted, growled and paced like caged beasts, eyeing the animal. And that's all it was; an animal, not a shifter. This goddess had called a wild lion to her to be her mount. I made a mental note to try my best not to hurt it.
“Father!” the woman shouted, and we all went still. “You stand on the wrong side of this battle!”
I swung my head toward Sin; he was the only option that made any sense. I was fairly sure this woman's father wasn't in another pantheon and the only other Mesopotamian on our side was Ninkasi. Sure enough, when my stare landed on him, Sin sighed and stepped forward. Shit. I didn't realize he'd be fighting his child. Just how much was Sin sacrificing for me?
“You are the one on the wrong side, Ishtar,” Sin called back.
“That's Ishtar?” Viper asked, giving me a wide-eyed look. “She of the vulva plowing?”
“And Sin's daughter, evidently,” I murmured.
“Damn, now I feel bad about the honey cheese thing.”
“No, you don't.”
“No, I don't.” Viper smirked.
“Marduk abducted Ninkasi and tortured her,” Sin went on. “How can you fight for a man like that?”
“I fight to stop that woman from ever endangering our world again!” Ishtar roared. “This has nothing to do with Marduk and everything to do with the Dark Star. She murdered my husband! Burned him to death and left me nothing to bury, and she did it while you stood there watching; doing nothing to defend him! How can you side with her again, Father?”
With her roar—not just a shout but an actual roar—I realized that Ishtar wasn't just a goddess who rode lions, she was a lion. Or lioness, rather. I narrowed my eyes at her. Something about her struck me as familiar. Even across the distance, I could feel her magic.
Because it was mine!
“Thief!” I shouted and pointed at Ishtar. “I will have my magic back before this battle is over.”
Ishtar laughed scornfully. “I am the Goddess of Love, all love magic is my magic. You are the thief, Godhunter.”
“I thought it would be appropriate that Ishtar have your magic,” Marduk sneered at me. “As she said; she is a love goddess, and you're the bitch who killed her husband and stole her father. You owe her.”
“Enough of this bullshit!” I snarled and launched forward into a run. “Intare, to me!”
The Intare roared and leapt forward with me. A black lion broke off from the Pride and ran up beside me. Kirill. He nudged me with his head. Ishtar wasn't the only one who could ride lions. I jumped onto Kirill's back and grabbed hold of his mane as the rest of our army surged across the field after us.
Magic rolled out like a tidal wave before the Gods, a bubbling, roiling tide of multi-colored, crackling mist that collided in the space between the armies. Booms rattled the earth and sparks lit the sky as the opposing energy clashed like tectonic plates. I squinted against the glare of flashing light and focused on my prey. Packs of enormous dogs leapt across the sand on my left. Gray-fleshed Ghouls sped after them, fangs bared menacingly and long talons cutting through the air in anticipation of their next meal. Both Hinn and Ghouls launched themselves at the Mesopotamians, tearing into tender throats as soon as they hit. The Janns whirled forward as columns of wind, twirling our enemies into the storms of their bodies. Body parts spun out from the twisters, leaving a bloody trail in their wake. The Marid launched fireballs from their lofty heights, the Shayteen laughed maniacally as they tore at their victims with horns and claws, and the Vetala went straight for the jugulars.
Egyptian Gods shouted Re's name as they rode forward in their gleaming chariots pulled by giant, fire-breathing snakes. Isis spread her jeweled wings and launched into the sky with an echoing battle cry. She collected her magic into glowing spears and launched them at the Mesopotamians as she hovered above us. Below her, Anubis shifted his head into that of a jackal, lifted it, and let out a vicious snarl. His werejackals yipped in response and followed him into the fray. Every god the Jackals killed could be resurrected by Anubis and forced to fight for us. It was enough of a threat to send several Mesopotamians running. Alongside the Jackal pack, Ma'at rode in a golden chariot, her snowy hair wrapped up in braids and her slim body resplendent in silver armor. She lifted her sword high and shouted the chant that set it aflame.
Luke shifted into his dragon form and took to the sky with his Demons. Chilling shrieks echoed before them, more of a warning than a battle cry. The Host of Hell had come to Earth, and they wouldn't be denied their share of blood. They screeched through glinting teeth, the sound adding to the thunder of their leathery wings. Beside them rode the Four Horsemen; each astride a flying steed who galloped through the air without wings. Ironically, the riders were the ones with wings, each angel displaying his feathers proudly.
Death rode his pale horse, his wings curved over and around him like a hooded robe and his flesh gone translucent to show the bones beneath. The dark void of his eye sockets dripped acid tears and his scythe glowed with reaper magic. War rode a fiery steed on Azrael's left, his sword held aloft and his crimson wings tucked in close to his back. Famine was on a black horse to Azrael's right, holding a pair of scales; the measuring kind, not dragon. You wouldn't have thought that scales could be scary, but these are. A flick of his wrist and Famine tipped the scales, spilling a wasting curse over the Mesopotamians below. They screamed as they dropped to the ground, their bodies withering away to skin and bones in seconds. The Antichrist rode beside Famine and to his left flew the Archangel Michael. They looked like a matched set; Thaddeus with his bow and Michael with his flaming sword. Ted touched the tip of an arrow to Mike's blade, set it aflame, and let it loose.
Odin transformed into a dragon and launche
d into the sky with a roar. The Valkyries spread their feathered wings and followed him, fiery swords brandished before them, reflecting in their polished helmets. Beneath the Allfather and his warrior women, the Froekn ran in their werewolf forms. Even though those forms were massive, Fenrir loomed above them. The Great Wolf howled as he loped across the sand, and his pack echoed him, eager for the kill. Down from the Wolves were the Greeks, riding in chariots or on horseback. They launched arrows and spears at our enemies, all burning with Fey magic.
And then there were the Fey themselves. Above me, Arach led the Wild Hunt in his dragon shape. The Hags cackled insanely as they clambered over the sand, the Leanan-Sidhe licked their sultry lips as they tried to decide on a victim, the Phookas in their canine forms jumped around the feet of the massive Red Caps, and then—the most terrifying faeries of all—the Hidden Ones, burst through a sulfurous cloud and sped toward our enemies.
