by Lizzy Ford
“Someone like Xander, maybe.”
Jenn shrugged. “It doesn’t seem likely, but then again, we really don’t know where his loyalties are.”
“You think …” Jonny shifted. “You think Xander might not be loyal to me?”
“I think Xander tries to control you.”
“He’s my advisor.”
“What advice does he give you?” she challenged. “I’m saying you need to keep an open mind. And if it is Xander, maybe the Others want something from Xander that Xander himself doesn’t know he can do for them.”
“That’s much more likely.”
Jenn cursed silently. She’d been planting hints for days that Xander couldn’t be trusted. Jonny was all but immune to them. Rather, he was looking for an excuse not to believe them. She understood why. As the chief of the spies in this hemisphere, she’d been in a lot of really bad situations with nothing but her charm and mind control to keep her safe. She’d never met anything like Xander, who was not deterred by even a god’s powers.
“It could be you, too,” Jonny added. “What if they know you’re helping me? They might want to steal our secrets.”
“I’m not worth an Other’s attention,” she replied.
“But like you said, what if you don’t know it?”
“Maybe. But between Xander and me, he’s got more power than you and I combined.”
A troubled look crossed Jonny’s face. “He does, doesn’t he.”
“But, like I said. It’s almost impossible to know. Just stay open to other options,” she said.
“I will, Jenn, thank you.”
A small team of four vamps approached the window and stopped at the edge of where the carpet from the hallway met the tile of the foyer. She looked them over dismissively, calculating what it would take to kill them all. She could take them. Two looked sleepy and one wasn’t armed.
Jonny followed her gaze. “I’m going to town.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“No. I need to do some things. Maybe next time.”
“I’m here if you need me, hon,” she said, not surprised to be excluded again.
“Thanks, Jenn.” Jonny’s words were more heartfelt than she warranted necessary. Jonny turned to go and joined the four. They walked to the front door of the mansion built into the side of the mountain.
Jenn watched him until he was gone then glanced at a vamp lurking in the shadows. Jonny had assigned her a surveillance team in his own home. They’d quickly learned to keep their distance after she killed two who thought they’d get in her way.
Her thoughts went in a different direction. Jonny didn’t seem to know her fate, which meant Xander hadn’t told her secret, that she was intended to mate with the Grey God. She still found the idea far-fetched. Darian had followed her around like a lost puppy before she was assigned to the Black God. She’d thought it was because his brothers were busy. Hindsight—and Xander’s revelation—made her look at his persistent presence and brotherly protectiveness in a new way.
If the Others wanted to find a way to keep the Grey God from assuming his role as the Gatekeeper between immortal and mortal worlds, they’d likely find her a good target. But she wasn’t about to reveal that to Jonny. At least, not until he ordered her killed. Then, it might work as a bargaining chip.
Jenn glanced at her watch. At this rate, what Xander - the forefather of all vamps - told her wouldn’t matter. She’d be dead soon enough.
She couldn’t help feeling relieved the Black God didn’t want her going with him this time. She’d moved to Miami for a reason: because she didn’t like the cold. The winter storm made her want to huddle under the covers. Instead, she’d slept with her back to the panoramic window with her down vest and boots on for warmth. And her weapons in hand.
Go for a walk.
As someone accustomed to planting ideas in the heads of others, she recognized the thought as coming from someone else. Jenn cocked her head to the side. It wasn’t Xander—who wouldn’t hesitate to twist her mind like a Twizzler—and it wasn’t Jonny. She glanced at the snowy scene outside the mansion then gathered her small backpack of weapons and strode to the door.
The vamps followed her only to the door. She stepped into the cold, snowy day and pulled on a cap.
West 100 meters, the voice told her.
Jenn drew a knife and obeyed, guessing whatever awaited her couldn’t be much worse than the Black God or Original Vamp.
Darian caught his reflection in the mirror as he walked down the long hallway of the White God’s Texas headquarters. He paused to look at himself, studying his rugged features and swirling gold eyes. When he looked too fast, he still saw the jagged, deep scars that the Healer had gotten rid of.
They’re still on the inside, he mused, troubled by his smooth skin. Once a god then a slave, he was just starting to figure out who he was now. His brothers gave him his space and their lifemates kept him company.
From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the many animals his brother Dusty’s mate had rescued. The orange tabby was twice the size of every other cat he’d seen. It sidled up to him and wound between his legs until he picked it up.
“Wouldn’t happen to know the secrets to the universe, would you?” Darian asked, gazing into its clear green eyes.
The cat purred. Darian had survived two lives and was on his third. He wondered if he had nine like a cat. Darian tucked the feline under his arm with one more look at the mirror.
He wanted his old face back, the scarred one. This new face reminded him of everything he’d never be, of lost opportunities and misguided hope.
Darian walked down the hall and stairwell to the study where his brother, the White God Damian, was probably plotting how to outsmart the pesky little immortals who’d declared war on them. Damian sat at the desk, bent over his iPad as he scanned messages and reports from immortals across the globe.
Darian watched his little brother, at once proud of the White God that Damian had grown into and crushed by the sense of his own failure. Damian had taken his place when betrayal rendered Darian near-dead then enslaved to a madman for thousands of years. Neither of their lives had been easy. Damian’s nature was not like Darian’s and their father’s, but he’d shouldered the responsibility to protect humanity and battle the Black God without question.
“We don’t need any more damn cats in this house,” Damian said, glancing up.
“I kinda like them,” Darian said. He crossed to the seat in front of Damian’s desk and propped his feet up on the desk.
“You’re as much a wild animal as they are,” Damian agreed. “What’s up, Darian? You need anything?”
“I made a decision.”
Damian sat back, waiting curiously.
“Last week, in Ireland, something happened to me,” Darian started. “I always wondered why you and Jonny had power and I didn’t have anything. That’s changed now. I’ve found it. I don’t know how to use it yet, but I want to learn. And I think I …” He struggled with the words, hating how weak they sounded. He wasn’t weak. He was the Grey God.
“Found yourself,” Damian finished for him.
“Exactly.”
Darkness crossed Damian’s features, the same darkness Darian felt go through him as he alluded to the fact he was broken beyond repair.
“You want me to stop mothering you.” Damian’s eyes gleamed in sudden amusement. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Laugh all you want, little brother.”
“You haven’t called me that since …”
Darian offered a small smile, aware those around him had no way of knowing the changes he’d gone through in the past week. The magic forced into his body during a battle with an Other in Ireland had opened up much more than he liked. He’d begun to remember his life as the White God, memories that had been trapped in darkness for so long. He didn’t want those memories, though. He found the dark memories of his enslavement were enough to motivate him without the hearta
che of remembering all that was good that would never be his again. The new memories made him feel vulnerable when all he wanted to feel was ... nothing.
“I’ll never be who I was,” he said. “I know who I am now. I want to discover what I can do. I don’t want to be a burden to you or our family anymore.”
“You’re never a burden,” Damian said.
“I need my own space, like Jule and Dusty,” Darian continued, referring to their adopted brothers.
“You don’t need my permission. What’s mine is yours. You can commandeer any safe house or Guardians or anything you want. And please take some of these damn cats with you.”
“Thank you, Damian.”
“You’ve come a long way in a short time. I’m proud of you, Darian.”
“We’ve both come a long way,” Darian replied. “Our father would be thrilled at how well you’ve done.”
Damian’s smile widened, and Darian could see how touched his little brother was at the words.
“Anyway, I’ll take a few cats with me when I find a spot. You have any luck putting North America back together?” Darian asked.
“Working on it. We lost a lot of Guardians to Jonny’s predecessor and that psycho son of his. Dusty’s in Atlanta surveying spots for a new headquarters, and I’m staying right here for now. Jule’s the worst off. He’s in Europe trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces,” Damian said.
“It’ll be just you and the girls.”
“Great.” Damian rolled his eyes. “How does the White God get put on babysitting duty?”
Darian smiled, knowing how much Damian loved his family despite his complaints. He set the cat down and rose.
“Could I ask for one last favor before you leave the nest?” Damian asked.
“Always.”
“Check on Jenn.”
Darian hoped his excitement at the assignment didn’t show. He’d resisted asking about Jenn, but she was almost always on his mind.
Not in a good way. His first mate—who ultimately betrayed him—had been a lot like Jenn: a talented warrior. In a way, Jenn was worse. Where Claire had been a weak Oracle, Jenn was a mind manipulator. Trusting Claire had led Darian to his enslavement. What would trusting a real mind control expert get him?
“I can send someone else,” Damian said at his silence.
“I’ll go,” Darian replied. “Just recalling how dangerous a female Guardian warrior with a knack for manipulating others can be.”
“I understand. Jenn isn’t like her, though.”
I know she’s not, but I’m telling myself she is, Darian thought to himself. The last thing he needed was to become involved with someone else. He barely knew who he was. Still, he’d admired Jenn’s spunk, beauty, and strength. The tall Guardian was built like a model with the long, lean muscles of a ballerina. She packed a serious punch, despite the purr of a 1940s pinup model.
“I’ll check her out,” he said then corrected himself quickly. “I mean, check on her.”
Damian said nothing, and Darian didn’t have to look at his little brother to know he was trying not to grin. Darian left the study and returned to his room. He armed himself and stopped to pet one of the cats that had wandered into his room to sleep on his bed.
Nine lives. He wasn’t sure a creature that lived more than one life was lucky. If anything, anyone with more than one life seemed pretty well cursed.
Darian pulled on a down vest. One of their brothers, Jule, had told them quietly where Jenn was after a trip to visit one of the vamps holed up with the Black God. The thought of killing vamps made his adrenaline pick up and his magic wriggle free from the tight grip he had on it.
Darian closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, not yet able to channel his newfound magic. When he felt calm again, he Traveled to the mountains of the Pacific Northwest, where four feet of snow covered the ground. He made his way to the rocky area near the hideout then crouched on the ground, watching. As much as he wanted to kill a few vamps, he wasn’t here for that.
Check on Jenn and go, he told himself. He had a lot to do: find himself new digs and track down the immortals threatening his family. Among the gifts his new power gave him: the ability to sense and find the Others and Watchers. They were like burrs in his shoes, but he couldn’t yet go after them until he’d learned to control his new power. He’d expected the Grey God’s powers to be like the White God’s, yet they weren’t. Although he couldn’t do everything he’d been able to do as a White God, he’d gained other abilities.
Darian debated how to find Jenn before he risked talking to her mentally. As a mind manipulator, she’d have more sensitive mental receptors. He shouldn’t draw attention using magic this close to the Black God’s hideout.
Go for a walk, he told her. Darian waited. A few minutes later, she emerged from the hideout. West 100 meters.
He rose as she approached. Jenn’s dark hair was hidden under a knit cap, her lithe frame moving with a cat’s grace through the snow and boulders. Large, dark eyes were wary and guarded, and she was openly armed. When she saw him, she put her knife away but didn’t lose the wariness. There was something else in her gaze and the firm set of her jaw that bothered him.
“What is it?” he asked when she was close enough.
“Nothing,” she replied with a tight smile. “A lot going on. How are you doing? Is everything back home okay?”
“We’re all good. I’m on my way to find a new place.”
“What happened? Did ikir kick you out?” she demanded.
“No,” Darian chuckled. “I’m not a lost boy anymore. I can take care of myself.”
She studied him closely, as if looking for signs of the man he’d been the last time she saw him. Or looking for something else. Darian had never felt threatened around her, even with his desire to find some reason to write her off as another Claire. This time, her intense gaze made him uncomfortable.
“What is it?” he asked again.
“I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Damian sent me.”
“At ikira Sofi’s suggestion?” Jenn asked, crossing her arms.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Jenn, what’s wrong?”
“Really, it’s nothing,” she said with a sigh. “I’m a little rattled.” Her glance towards the mountain mansion told him things were not going well.
“I can pull you out at any time,” he said.
“Damian’s agreement was—”
“Believe it or not, I’m a god, too, and I don’t need Damian’s permission or help to rescue a Guardian in need.” His words came out harsher than he intended.
Jenn’s troubled gaze flickered up to him again. She didn’t seem convinced of his words or happy to see him. He suspected she was in more trouble than she let on, and it irritated him that she didn’t trust him enough to tell him. She shifted away from him. Darian wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction. They’d been friends since soon after Sofi found him, and Jenn had never acted this way around him before.
“Are you being treated well?” he asked.
“I’m still standing.”
“You’re worried about something.”
“Being surrounded by vamps all day makes you jumpy.”
“Jenn—”
“I’m fine. Really. This isn’t a safe place for you to be, Darian. If I need something, I’ll send a message, okay?”
Her verbal slap stunned him. The words were purred in her husky voice yet felt as if they’d been shouted. Jenn offered another half-assed smile then turned and walked away. Darian watched her, startled by her abruptness. He hadn’t seen her since they sparred last, when Damian interrupted and swept her away to loan her to the Black God for a month. They’d been joking and sparring and having a good time.
Now this. Jenn wanted nothing to do with him. But it was more than that. Something was off here, and it wasn’t just Jenn. Darian looked around him, irritated at her rejection but also aware she’d never treat any Guardian like that without a reaso
n.
Jenn didn’t look back but strode straight to the mansion and inside. Darian remained for another long moment before Traveling to the nearest town, determined to figure out what was going on.
Jenn closed the door firmly and drew a deep breath before facing her awaiting surveillance team. The three vamps were spread out around the foyer and trailed her like bloodsucking puppies as she moved down the hallway. Those vamps she passed hissed at her. There was one place in the mega-mansion where she found peace: the gym. Most of the vamps were late to wake in the mornings, the effect of their nocturnal lifestyle.
The women’s locker room was empty. Jenn entered and went to her locker. She opened it and muttered a curse. One of the vamps had left her another deer head at the bottom. They were passive aggressive with her, hazing her when the Black God and Xander weren’t around. There was a note affixed to the deer head, and she suspected it said the same thing as the other notes on animal heads she’d found around the house. You’re next, Guardian.
At least there’s no blood on my clothes, she told herself. She changed, left her folded clothing on the bench outside the locker, and slammed the locker closed. The backpack she kept with her as she exited the locker room into the gym area. It held all the weapons she could cram in there. She’d learned the hard way what happened if she left her weapons in her room. They had a habit of disappearing.
Her surveillance team had set up already. With them was a fourth vamp, one she wanted desperately not to see. Xander, the Original Vamp, stood over seven feet tall and was built like a boulder with dark hair and the glowing, red eyes characteristic of vamps. One of five Original Beings, he’d landed on earth when the Originals escaped from their immortal exile. He’d been a thorn in her side ever since.
“Guardian,” he said, lifting his chin in greeting. He was waiting for her in the boxing ring.
“Puppet master,” she replied.
“Leave us.” This order was to the surveillance team. They obeyed faster than they ever would a command from the Black God, who still struggled to control his vamps.
