Gods & Monsters: The Gods & Monsters Trilogy Book 1

by Janie Marie

  “Are you all right? You were moaning and moving quite a bit. I thought you were having a nightmare again.” David touched her forehead with the back of his fingers. “Jane?”

  “When did we get here?” she asked, looking around the room.

  “We came back a few hours ago. You fell asleep on my shoulder when we were in the water. Did you forget?”

  “At the creek?” she asked, trying to figure out what was real.

  “Yes. I cleaned some of the blood off you, then we talked for a short while, and you fell asleep. You woke up when I placed you on the rocks long enough to let me slide my shirt over you, but you fell back to sleep quickly. I brought you here and put you in bed.” He touched her cheek. “Did you have a bad dream? Did you forget what happened?”

  “What happened?” she asked harshly. “Did we—?”

  He frowned. “Did we what?”

  Jane pushed his hand away and covered her face. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I got confused.” A tear quickly fell, but she wiped it away as her mind and heart screamed at each other. “It wasn’t real,” she whispered, thankful but full of emptiness at the same time. “It was just a dream.”

  THE FLOWER PAINTING on the wall blurred as Jane struggled to contain her tears. David had excused himself for a few minutes, but he was back now.

  She refused to look at him, though, and kept her head turned away when he sat beside her on the bed. She was still in his shirt, and she hugged her knees to keep herself from touching him.

  “Do you want to talk?” He sounded worried, and she hated that he was stressed over her yet again.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She wiped away another tear.

  He sighed and scooted close enough that she could feel his body heat warming up her right side. “Are you sad over what we talked about at the creek? Or because we swam together? I know it was probably wrong to swim in our underwear, but I promise I did not touch you inappropriately after you fell asleep.”

  She let out a bitter laugh and covered her face just in case he could see her. “I know you didn’t, David. You did nothing wrong. You never do anything wrong.”

  “Is that bad?”

  She wanted to hug him. “No. It’s not bad.”

  He reached around and pulled her so she’d lean against him. She cried silently and let him pull her onto his lap. She laid her head against his chest as he hugged her, warming every bit of her body. “Did you have a bad dream?”

  “It wasn’t a bad dream; it was a very nice dream.” She reached up and wiped her tears again, wondering how she could make so many. “It was nice because I’m evil inside.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Because I shouldn’t like it.” She breathed in his scent and calmed a little. “I’m horrible for liking it so much.”

  He began to comb his fingers through her hair. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

  “You don’t know me, David.”

  His voice was softer. “I want to, but you will not let me.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. Her mind wouldn’t rest. Everything with him felt so right, but she knew it was wrong. It was wrong to care for him so deeply when she loved Death, and she felt even worse because she realized Jason wasn’t even the main reason she felt guilty for being with David. What did that make her if she put Death above Jason? Was she putting David above her husband, too? Did she love David as well? She’d confessed she did in her dream.

  “Would it help if you talked to someone else?” David asked. She shook her head. “What about Death? Do you know how to reach him?”

  She smiled sadly. David really would do anything if it meant she could be better. “He left me.”

  “Only because he had to, Jane.”

  “Did you know I saw myself after I changed?”

  “You mean as an immortal?”

  “I mean, when I lose control. My eyes, they turn black.”

  “Oh.” He hugged her. “I did not know you had seen yourself.”

  “I was too afraid to tell anyone. The boys had said only Cursed and Damned had black eyes… Oh, and demons or fallen angels. But I had them, too. Even before—”

  “Before what?”

  Lucifer, she thought but continued to talk about her experience. “I had looked through the bathroom window and watched you leave with Arthur, then I saw my home. At first I had been devastated, then all I wanted was their blood. I wanted to kill my children, David. I was going to kill them. But I had caught sight of my reflection and hissed like I was staring at an enemy. Then the monster copied me. And only then did I realize I was the monster and what I’d almost done.

  “When I thought of my children again, I watched my eyes flood with blackness and the most evil thoughts filled my mind. I could not think of my children without wanting to harm them. What kind of mother can’t think of her own children without wanting to kill them?”

  “That’s not you, baby.”

  “Then who is it?” She chuckled sadly. “If I were possessed, Death would be able to call them out or they’d flee from him. So what does that say about me?”

  “It says you are fighting something more powerful than even Death has faced.”

  “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “Because you refuse to let me help you, Jane! You will not explain anything to me!”

  She pushed herself out of his arms and crawled to the edge of the bed. “I need to take a real shower. If you hear anything, stay away.”

  “Jane, I did not mean to sound harsh.” His apologetic tone made her tummy squeeze.

  “I know.” She climbed off the bed and pulled the shirt to cover her butt as she walked to the bathroom.

  “Baby, you need to feed.” She stopped walking and stared at the floor as she listened to him get off the bed. He placed a hand on her left shoulder before sliding it down her arm and across her waist, caging her against his body. His heat and muscles pressed against her back as he offered his other arm up to her mouth. “Drink.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  He held her tighter but pulled his wrist away. She only had time to blink before his bleeding wrist was pressed against her lips. “Drink.”

  She cried but could not resist him. Just like she could not resist anything about him or Death. They offered, she accepted, and like always, she desired more than she should.

  A chill swept across her as she sucked, and she instantly imagined David using his free hand to shove her panties down before he sat on the bed and pulled her on his—

  Jane moaned, and David growled when she tried to pull his hand down between her legs.

  “Stop!” he snarled, tugging her tighter. Her left arm was trapped, but she fought to free herself. If he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted, she was going to take it. “Jane!”

  She pulled her mouth from his wrist and hissed, but he used both of his arms to keep her from getting out of his hold.

  “Jane,” he said softer. She stilled in his hold. “There you go.” He nuzzled the top of her head. “Good girl.”

  She’d done it again. “I’m sorry.”

  “You did nothing wrong, Jane. This is normal behavior.”

  She shook her head. He didn’t know she wanted more than his blood. That is, until she heard him inhale the scent she emitted.

  He tensed and hissed as his hand spread out across her stomach. His fingers flexed, making her whimper, and he finally exhaled, relaxing his grip. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I know you don’t want to hurt me, David—and you didn’t.” She pushed his hands away and went to the bathroom again. “But please get it through your head that I don’t want to hurt you either. And that’s all I’ll do.”

  “Jane…”

  “I’ll see you downstairs,” she said, shutting the door before he could say another word.

  A wooden plank lay beneath each body and had ropes attached at each corner. Jane glanced at the huge pile of d
irt off to the side and saddened at the thought of it crushing the little boy.

  Of course, she knew he was dead would not be hurt from the weight of the dirt, but she still worried if he would be scared down in the dark hole she peered into. The knights had lined the bottom with flat rocks; she supposed it was the only improvement they could provide to the makeshift grave.

  Jane briefly scanned the taller figure lying next to the boy’s body. She remembered a young girl Gareth seemed to know. Rather coldly, though, she didn’t care for her or her significance to Gareth. Jane knew that was cruel of her, but she didn’t feel a sliver of sympathy. She only cared that the little boy would not be alone in the dark now.

  She gazed at the boy again. Something about seeing the body of the dead always stuck with Jane. She’d been to several funerals, and she always felt it necessary to see their face one last time. So she knelt down beside him and carefully undid the covering over his face.

  She pulled the sheet away and let out a soft sob. Someone had cleaned his face and combed his hair. They had also wrapped a blue handkerchief around the fatal wound on his neck. She caressed his pale cheek. He really did look like her brother, and her son.

  She brushed the stray hairs from his face before leaning over and kissing his forehead. “I’m sorry.” She leaned back, securing the wraps before smoothing out the wrinkles as best she could.

  When she sat there staring at the sheet, David reached down and pulled her up. He kissed her head, then walked forward with Gawain, Gareth, and Tristan.

  Jane only then realized all the knights were there, and they all watched her with sad and worried gazes. She looked away from them and back to David. He and the others picked up the ends of rope that had been attached to the wooden plank and lowered the boy.

  As his body disappeared into the shadows, an empty feeling spread through her stomach.

  The wooden plank hit the bottom, the knights discarded the ends of the ropes and repeated the process with the girl.

  This was what always happened. Everyone wound up here because of her. She always failed. Her best was never enough. She was never enough. She either destroyed or let things get destroyed because she was too weak to make a difference.

  With the hollowness spreading through her chest, she glanced at Gawain and Gareth. They weren’t looking at her as they shoveled dirt over the bodies, but she knew they were disgusted with her. She’d lost control and hurt them again. She had tried to be happy and good, but she wasn’t good. They all thought she was something she wasn’t. They all believed she’d save the world and be David’s soul mate, but she wasn’t.

  She could feel the fire simmering deep inside her. Like a sleeping volcano, it was waiting for her to erupt. How many of them would be in her path when she did? How many would she put in their graves? Would it be only Gawain and Gareth? Would they be able to keep her children safe from her? Would David fall at her hand because he refused to leave?

  David grabbed her hand and placed something in her palm. He let go but put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her against his side. She didn’t fight him. All she could do was stare at what he’d placed in her hand. He’d given her a flower from a morning glory vine.

  Jane stayed still in his arms and let a slow breath out. She’d always found the simple flower so beautiful. It always closed when the light left to shield itself from the dark. Then it reopened in the morning light, only to wither and close again when the heat became too much. It could not stand too much light or dark.

  The sound of dirt being shoveled made her look away from the delicate violet petals. She watched the knights tossing dirt down into the hole and without thinking, she tossed David’s flower in as well.

  Her lip trembled when she could no longer see it. She remembered how the flowers she’d placed over her family’s caskets disappeared in almost the same way under the dirt. She remembered how Wendy loved blue morning glories and that she liked the violet ones. She had been trying to get a pair to grow in her flower garden, but they wouldn’t. They never would. She’d never see her flowers. She’d never see her parents or Wendy, just like she would never see this little boy or her flower again. Just like she’d never see her family.

  Excruciating pain spread from her burning eyes down her tightening throat and into her throbbing chest. She’d never see any of them. Her babies would forget her. Jason would remember for a while, but he would forget her like he did everything else. Even her pets would go on without her. She always thought, at least, they relied on her, but she stood corrected.

  No one needed her. They were better off without her.

  If she tried to have anything, just like her flower tried to have the sun, she’d perish. Or also like her flower, spread like an untamable weed, smothering every living thing around her so she could have all the light to herself. Just like she knew it was wrong to try to be happy with David and Death, the flower knew it was wrong to stay in the sun—but she and her flower stayed because they were greedy. They craved the light when they had no right to bask in its warmth. They were doomed to a stinted period of good but shunned to only look from the shadows.

  She feared what waited inside her. If she broke, what would happen? If she tried one last time to be anything great, and she failed, what horror would she unleash?

  No one could stop her. She would be like the morning glory vine, able to spread out where she was not wanted, smothering, strangling, killing all life that deserved to be there, and not even the sun would be able to stop her once she lost herself.

  She did not want to see what she would do. She wished everything would stop. It needed to or she would fall to a depth she could not return from.

  She pressed her lips together and swallowed the cry that needed to come out.

  She would never have David or Death—not the way she wanted to. She wasn’t good enough for either of them. They were light and warmth, and they held her steady between them. But she couldn’t keep doing this to David. If she became the one to destroy him, she would never be able to come back from the dark.

  Make it stop, she silently begged to whoever would listen.

  .

  .

  .

  And, as if someone had listened, a chill crawled its way to her heart and encased it. She felt herself shutting off. It was like she was sitting in a house, and one by one, the lights went out.

  It hurt to feel. It hurt to remember. It hurt to want what she couldn’t have—what she didn’t deserve. She didn’t want to hurt anymore. She didn’t want to cry over her many losses or feel her heart pulled in different directions. She was tired of fighting. Tired of not being enough. Just tired.

  So, when the lights flickered and died, she hid in the dark.

  David shuddered as a chill crept up his arm, and he glanced down at Jane. He knew even if they weren’t bonded in the same sense that she and Death were, he could still read her well, and what he saw on her empty expression made his chest ache. “Jane?”

  “What?” The hollowness of her voice caused a sick feeling to stir in his stomach.

  He tried not to panic and lowered his hand from her shoulder to caress her arm; she always reacted to his touch. She tensed under his fingertips, giving him hope she could feel him, but she made no other reaction. “Sweetheart, do you want to discuss our visit to your home?”

  There was no spark in her eyes as she looked up. The green and golden-brown fire did not swirl around each other; they were a solid olive color. Pretty but not alive.

  She didn’t utter a word or show anxiety of any sort. She simply gave him a single nod and pulled out of his hold to walk back inside. He watched her close the door behind her and turned to see that everyone had witnessed her strange departure.

  Arthur nodded toward the house. “Go to her. Something is wrong. Her thoughts are—” He shook his head, looking frustrated. “Just go.”

  David didn’t have to be told twice, but he didn’t know what awaited him. Her emotions made her volatile. She eit
her radiated happiness, drowned in sorrow, or roared like a raging inferno. Yet, what he saw as he entered the sitting room was nothing like he expected. “Jane?”

  Death opened his eyes to a silent and colorless world. The grass and shrubs, all varying shades of gray, extended for miles. An occasional small tree or flower would pop up on the empty fields, but even they were void of color.

  This place held no surprises for him. He’d traveled to this ashen realm many times throughout his existence. After all, he knew that as deserted as it seemed, life flourished at the heart of this world.

  He turned around to view the mass behind him and, without waiting, walked toward the enormous lake.

  The mirror stillness of the water’s surface caught you eye, at first. Once you truly looked into the depths of the black and gray water the reflection of a magnificent and brightly colored tree on the opposite shore stole all its wonder. Various sizes of leaves and buds spread over the gigantic branches. Some new and vibrant in color while others were withered, clinging desperately to their stems. All joined, though.

  Death finally arrived at the edge of the bank. He glanced into the clear water and found not just the impressive tree’s reflection, but also, stars. Billions of stars surrounding a lone planet.

  Earth.

  For a small moment, he paused to admire the beauty it created. Never had he truly cared about Earth or its inhabitants. His role as the Angel of Death did not allow him to care. Duty brought him to the humans, nothing more. Unlike Heaven’s angels who adored humanity as dearly as their Father, or the Fallen and Demons who hated them, Death felt nothing. That is, until the night he found Jane.

  He chose not to question why Jane was the only being he attached to and continued his journey.

  At last, he caught sight of the lone figure circling the tree. The angel occasionally reached up and plucked a leaf or bud from a branch to toss it into the lake. The man was Death’s mentor, but he had more power than him, even here.