Amy Sumida - Perchance To Die (The Godhunter Book 12)

by Unknown

  “I don't want to try the squished duck with its blood and bone sauce, Trevor,” I growled back.

  “That duck is a hundred-ninety dollars,” Azrael whispered, probably thinking that I wouldn't waste it because of the price.

  “Well then it's a deal compared to the wine,” I shot back at him. “You know what? Get it packed up, we can give it to the starving children. No, wait, that would be child abuse.”

  “Oh, Tima,” Kirill shook his head.

  “Why did you guys bring me here?” I pushed my plate away angrily. “Anyone who knows me would know that I wouldn't enjoy this.”

  “I told you,” Kirill looked at the other two with accusation in his eyes. “You said she'd come around.”

  “Or maybe Kirill is the only one who knows me after all, despite all the magic and soul touching.”

  “That's unfair,” Azrael protested.

  “What's unfair is you two betting over what I would and wouldn't eat,” I pointed out to him. “If there was a wager involved, than you must have known there was a chance I wouldn't enjoy this meal.”

  Az and Trevor exchanged guilty glances.

  “So why bring me here, huh?” I glared at them all. “Why order me foie gras and anchovy cookies? Why the pressed blood duck? There must be less shocking items on their menu.”

  “At least we didn't order the escargot,” Trevor grumbled.

  “Well you can do it now. Go ahead and order some snails to go with your bloody duck, my sweet Princes,” I stood and threw my linen napkin down on the chair. “I have no idea why you'd want to torture me like this but I'm done being gastronomically whipped and humiliated.”

  “Vervain,” Trevor stood up but I pointed a finger in his face with a stay put gesture and walked briskly from the room.

  I felt him closing in behind me so I hurried into a shadowy corner and traced back to Pride Palace. I was so over France and so over my men.

  Chapter Eight

  I ran straight outside from the tracing room, tears already burning my eyes. Across the veranda/drawbridge and out into the night I went, blindly fleeing my hurt like I used to do. I wasn't proud of myself and I knew I should probably wait for the guys to get home and then discuss it all with them like a grown up. Well I didn't feel like being a grown up. It was Valentine's Day and they'd ruined it for me. I just wanted to go somewhere by myself and have a good cry.

  I ended up in the garden behind the palace. It was actually a memorial garden for those Intare who had been murdered by the last Lion Goddess. She would kill her own lions indiscriminately and then toss their bodies into mass graves behind the palace. In honor of them, I'd built an ever-blooming flower garden over them, placing a large stone in the center of it with the names of every lion buried there carved into its surface. How appropriate that I ended up there, among the dead I was too late to save.

  I stared at the names on the tall stone before me, remembering why I'd become Tima and how much the Intare meant to me. Focusing on the loss of so many lions that I never knew helped me to put my night into perspective. I took a deep breath of the sweet air and then froze.

  There was more than the scent of night blooming jasmine on the wind.

  “Griffin?” I whispered.

  “Why are you crying?” The voice came from my right. I turned and went over to the bench he was sitting on.

  “I had a bad night,” I sighed and wiped the tears away.

  “I heard you went out to some fancy dinner with all your men,” his voice was controlled, too controlled. He was angry again.

  I looked over at him. He probably thought he was hidden by the dark but I held three beasts inside me and we needed very little light to see. He was focused on me intently, his jaw and fists clenched. I could feel the pull of him like a tangible thing, like I still held that glowing cord connected to his soul. The cord I'd used to bring him back from the Void.

  “They took me to La Tour d'Argent in France,” I whispered past the lump in my throat.

  “Oh, French fancy.”

  “It was horrible,” I confessed. “They ordered all this weird stuff for me, passing money back and forth when I refused to eat something.”

  “They bet on what you would eat?” The anger started to leave his body, his shoulders slowly dropping.

  “Yeah,” I huffed. “That was rude, right?”

  “You're damn straight that was rude.”

  “Thank you,” I started to relax with the departure of his anger. “They ordered me Madeleines with anchovy filling and foie gras!”

  “Aren't Madeleines a cookie?”

  “Yes!” I made an exactly motion with my hand. “It was weird! And then they got me this duck that the waiter put into a machine and pressed all the blood and bone marrow out of it. Then he took all that grossness and made a sauce with it.”

  “Blood and bone duck sauce?” He sounded horrified.

  “Yes! And I had to watch it!”

  “Why didn't they do that shit in the kitchen?”

  “That's exactly what I said,” I huffed and sat back against the bench. “It looked really gross too, all mushed together and brown. I was so pissed, I walked out.”

  “You left them there?” His voice held the thread of laughter in it.

  “Yeah, I kind of ran away after I yelled at them,” a small giggle escaped my mouth.

  “You're a horrible person,” he started laughing outright.

  “I am, aren't I?”

  “No, not really,” he whispered and I looked over to him just as the moon came out from behind the clouds.

  Moonlight spilled over his face, turning the golden skin to silver and his hair to platinum. I sucked in a breath, a little awed by the ethereal beauty of him, he looked like he belonged in Faerie... or Heaven. His eyes caught the light and glimmered bright green for a second. Then they softened and the look was all Odin, he was back. I felt myself leaning toward him and miracle of miracles, he began leaning toward me too. Just as our lips were about to touch, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, I heard Trevor's voice.

  “Gods damn it, Vervain. What are you doing out here?”

  Griffin jerked away from me, jumped off the bench, and fled into the darkness.

  “Son of a bitch!” I cursed under my breath but with his werewolf hearing, Trevor had no problem picking it up.

  “I guess that means you're still mad.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I'm not mad,” I said for like the billionth time.

  We were getting into the gilded cage elevator of Pride Palace and heading up to the sixth floor, where our bedroom was. I'd looked for Griffin all the way back but hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. Also, I was a liar because I was mad. Really, really mad that not only had Trevor ruined my Valentines dinner, he'd ruined my chance to kiss Griffin. But I wasn't about to tell Trevor that.

  “I'm sorry, Minn Elska,” he said as we stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway into our bedroom.

  “I said I'm not-” I stopped in the doorway and stared at the trail of rose petals leading around in a loop and out the French doors of the butterfly garden. “What's this?” I followed the path.

  “What we should have done to begin with,” he grinned sheepishly. “Come on,” he took my hand and led me through the doors.

  The petals continued forward in a line that led to the center of the garden. All the butterflies were asleep for the night, in massive hanging collections that were thick at the top and tapered down to just a few delicate, closed-winged butterflies at the bottom. It always made me smile to see them sleeping together like that, the butterfly equivalent of a puppy pile.

  We went past the stream filled with koi and the thick tropical foliage that enclosed the garden. There was still moisture in the air, though the misters were off for the night, and the moon was shining down through the netting that covered the open ceiling. The path opened up to a meadow and in the center of the little meadow was a blanket and two gorgeous men.

  A
zrael's wings were out and I smirked at the obvious ploy. He knew how much I loved his dark wings. Kirill was less obvious but just as striking, with his hair unbound and hanging around him in a sheet of black silk. It pooled around his legs and it was only then that I realized they both wearing only trousers. The rest of their clothes were suspiciously absent.

  I stopped and stood looking down at them. Trevor pulled off his shirt and tossed it away, giving me his own tantalizing display of male flesh. On the blanket before Az and Kirill was a low table with four place settings and a beautiful roast duck in the center. There were candles on the table and torches lit around the perimeter of the clearing. The golden light did amazing things to their bare skin and I couldn't help sighing. Was I dreaming again? This was a much better Valentine's Day. Night. Whatever.

  “Why not just sit here naked?” I tried to temper my lust with the remaining anger I still felt. “You obviously think seducing me is going to take care of everything.”

  “Carus,” Azrael sighed and stood up. “We really thought you'd enjoy the food once we got you to try it. That restaurant is famed for its cuisine.”

  “Did ve mean to tease you little bit?” Kirill added, leaning an arm casually on one bended knee, which made his hair frame his sculpted physique perfectly. “Da, ve did but ve thought you vould zink it vas funny.”

  “We never thought you'd get mad,” Trevor finished.

  “You said it yourself,” I folded my arms across my chest. “Tonight was for romance not jokes.”

  “It wasn't a joke,” Azrael protested. “You love food and you're normally so adventurous. What do you always say to me?”

  “I'll try anything twice just to make sure I didn't like it the first time,” I whispered grudgingly.

  “Exactly,” he nodded.

  “But not on Valentines Day,” I huffed. “Today should have been about wanting to do something nice for each other, not about getting me to experiment with food.”

  “You're right and we're sorry,” Trevor waved his hand toward the table. “We brought you another of their duck specials, Au Pain d'Espices, roast duckling with orange sauce and gingerbread croquettes.”

  “Well, that does look better,” I sat down in front of them. “Is there any wine?”

  “We brought another bottle of the one you liked,” Azrael nodded and started pouring.

  “I guess I have to forgive you then,” I shook my head and lifted my glass.

  “To forgiveness,” Kirill offered.

  “To stupid men with ridiculous tastes in wine,” I clinked glasses with them and took a sip. Then I replaced my glass and pulled a pouch out of my bra. Trevor, who had begun to cut the duck, stopped to stare.

  “Did you just pull that out of your bra?”

  “I didn't want to forget it in my purse,” I shrugged and emptied the pouch into my hand. Out came four rings, gold bands etched with magical symbols. “I made these for us. Happy Valentines Day.” I handed them each their ring and then put mine on.

  “Vhat do zey do?” Kirill looked at the band on his hand, he'd automatically put it on his left ring finger.

  “They're enchanted so that we can always find each other,” I slid mine on my ring finger as well. I wore wedding rings for Arach when I was in the Faerie Realm so I'd thought it was about time I had some physical representation of my commitment to them. “If one of us is in danger, the others will know it. I thought it might give us all some peace of mind.”

  “This is fantastic, Minn Elska,” Trevor grinned. “I love it, thank you.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, sliding his hand down my neck and igniting tingles along the way.

  “Da, zank you,” Kirill nodded.

  “I like wearing your ring,” Azrael grinned. “It makes it all feel more real somehow.”

  “Azrael, help me with this,” Trevor stood up and gripped the end of the table. Azrael stood and took the other end and they carefully lifted the table and put it off to the side.

  “What do you think you're doing?” I lifted a brow at them as they all converged on me. “I was finally ready to enjoy some duck.”

  “Dinner is going to have to wait,” Trevor growled, a glow flashing over his amber eyes.

  “There are other hungers to fulfill first,” Azrael's eyes shifted to diamond.

  “All three of you?” My eyes went wide. “Um...”

  “Trust us,” Kirill's hand was on my foot, sliding over my skin softly.

  Then he gripped my ankle and pulled. I went down on my back, yanked into the center of my men. All of whom were suddenly very naked. When had that happened? My heart started beating faster, two men at once was a difficult balancing act but three? I wasn't even sure what that would involve.

  “Relax, Carus,” Azrael's wings disappeared, probably to make room for the other men. “This is supposed to be pleasant.”

  “Uh huh,” I nodded and swallowed hard.

  I made the mistake of glancing down their beautiful bodies and felt the fire rise up inside me, a flush sweeping over my skin. Oh dear gods, they were perfect, each one a study in male appeal, each one different in wonderful ways. And there I was, so imperfect, so ridiculously unworthy of this. What was I doing there? How did I wind up with these amazing men?

  Oh, that's right, I'm so very, very lucky.

  Then my clothes were gone too and their hands were everywhere, sliding across my thighs, at hips, breasts, neck, and I in turn tried to touch all of them at once. It was impossible of course but I made a valiant effort. My fingers skated across the hard planes of a chest, the soft curve of a cheek, a flexing bicep, and I knew every inch, knew which man I was touching even with my eyes closed in pleasure. It was a surprising revelation, how well I knew my men, that I could touch one small part of them and instantly know which one of them it was.

  “Vervain,” Azrael's whisper, soft as angel feathers against my lips before he kissed me.

  I tasted the wine but the dark spice of it was different on his lips, richer and even more valuable. The taste of Azrael was priceless, the feel of his heated skin pressed to mine, just as precious to me. Along my right side, Trevor's body was pressed just as firmly, his mouth already doing wonderful things, while Kirill settled between my legs. What happened next more than made up for the French debacle and I completely forgot about that bloody duck.

  Flesh everywhere. I was surrounded in sensation and it was a frantic, almost violent apex we strove for together. A mountaintop of sensation that once surmounted, could only be enjoyed for a brief moment before crashing down the side in a rolling tumble of delight. I found myself lying at the base of that mountain, slick with sweat, both my hair and Kirill's plastered to my body. My men fell around me, fallen trees cut down by ecstasy, and we laid there together, enjoying the aftermath of shivers and lazy caresses. The scent of fur, feathers, and fantastic men filled my nose as they started to rouse and shift positions.

  “Again?” I whispered.

  All I got in response were rumbling growls filled with promise. I love Valentine's Day.

  Chapter Ten

  “I'm not sure I'm ready for this,” Griffin said as we stood within the tracing chamber of Pride Palace.

  “For tracing or for meeting your sons?” I looked over his tense body.

  “Both,” he whispered and finally met my eyes.

  “We don't have to do this today,” I started to turn away but his hand shot out and gripped mine.

  “No, I think we should.”

  “Alright,” I gripped his hand more firmly, winding my fingers through his and feeling absurdly happy to be doing so. “I'm going to take you through with me and I want you to just try and pay attention to the way it feels. I'm directing us by focusing on where I want to go but you can also verbally ask the Aether to take you someplace. Speaking the words may help you to focus. Or, as in the case of Pride Palace, and Valhalla, there can be chants that you need to say which allow you through the wards guarding the territory. Odin's death dispersed the wards for Valhalla
so we don't have to worry about that today but chants can make tracing easier because they pull you through without your direction. Do you remember the chant for Pride Palace?”

  “Intaho, Ishema, Intare,” he nodded. “Okay, I'm ready.”

  “Alright,” I stepped forward into the Aether with him.

  In seconds, we zipped through the magical realm of thought and potential, our bodies transforming into thought-forms momentarily before reforming in Asgard. We came out of the Aether in Valhalla's tracing room and from there, I walked us into the massive dining hall. It was so large, you couldn't see the walls on either side, only the one at the far end. At that end, on a raised dais, was the high table. It was where the family ate. In front of it was usually a row of several more tables for guests but these were in storage at the moment.

  There were seating areas scattered around the vast room but there was only one that was placed beside the free-floating fireplace on the right of the hall. There were a few heavy chairs positioned around the glowing fire and a large couch strewn with furs. This was where Thor, Vidar, and Vali were waiting for us.

  They eyed Griffin warily as we walked up and I could feel his own anxiety radiating off of him as well. Odin's sons were so much bigger than Griffin, it was kind of strange to see them together, these massive Viking gods meeting a human man who was supposed to be their father. Vidar was dressed in a traditional Viking outfit of leather pants and linen tunic, both black, which added to his severe look.

  Vidar was very beautiful, with blue eyes and straight black hair similar to Kirill's but Vidar's features were a little softer than Kirill's, his nose a little larger. Sabine's French blood showed through but it was also tempered by Odin's. The softness became seriousness in Vidar's face, giving him the look of a warrior-scholar, one who would slice your head off without a sound and then write about it in his journal for posterity's sake.

  Vali, on the other hand, had none of Sabine's softness since he wasn't of Sabine's blood. She had raised him and I considered him my son but really, he was Odin's child from another woman. I never held that against him and in fact, if I ever met Vali's mother, I'd thank her for abandoning her child. He was mine now because of it. He looked completely Norse though, all harsh angles and rough features. His hair was closer to what Odin's had been, a dark brown, except his had auburn highlights instead of gold. His skin was deeply tanned from his days outdoors and his eyes were so blue they were almost purple, an obvious connection to the man who stood before him now.