Blood Hunt

by Lucienne Diver

  The amulet had to be destroyed. Now, before…

  I looked around frantically for Apollo. The amulet was made of metal, gold in tone, maybe in reality. There was one surefire way I knew to slag metal, and that was with extreme heat.

  He must have heard me call for him mentally, because in the huge melee, one face turned toward me. Astarte tried to run Apollo through as he turned, but Sigyn hit her upside the head with something, screwing with her aim and drawing her attention. I guessed that answered the question of whose side she was on.

  “Apollo,” I called, “slag this!”

  I held the amulet aloft in my good hand, up over my head.

  Set let out a huge roar and started to rise from his worshippers to come after me, but suddenly all the lights of the stage—all of them—swiveled toward me, flaring and burning with the light of a thousand suns. I had to turn my eyes away, but the brightness burned even through my closed lids. And my hand…the heat was so intense, it was all I could do not to drop the amulet…and then that wasn’t even an option, as the superheated metal started to flow like oil, coating my hand with the burn.

  Set flew into me, sending me reeling, and I reached out with my burning hand to push him away, the molten metal there scalding him on contact. I ripped away some of his skin when I pulled back, tearing away his illusion with it.

  He floated there now, in the heavens of the theatre with me, revealed for his true self—hair flaming, skin unnaturally white, like something hidden for centuries away from the sun, eyes black as night.

  Below, people gasped. Some yelled that it must be a trick, that I’d done something to him. Others fell to their knees and wept.

  Set snarled. It pulled badly at his burned face, and when I bit my lip and spat my blood at the raw section where the skin had come away, he began to freeze that way…or, rather, petrify. His face half stone now, set in a perpetual snarl, he lashed out at me, swinging with a hand that quickly became a claw. He was giving himself away now, changing forms. I was no longer the one bearing the scorpion’s tail.

  People began to scream, and if the earthquake had sent some running for the exits, it was nothing to the new stampede.

  “You wanted chaos,” I said to Set. “Well, it appears you have it.”

  The claw never connected with me. As I watched, a form somersaulted into the air, swinging with her glorious silver-gold sword, and the claw was severed clean through, dropping to the stage and scattering the last of the stragglers, who couldn’t quite believe…

  And that was what it was all about. We’d shattered their belief in their false prophet. We’d killed his chaos field.

  Set was vulnerable.

  Suddenly, the force of all those stage lights was shining on Set, and a glow started in his abdomen like an ant under a magnifying glass about to burst into flame. He moved out of the way, but the lights followed him.

  I reached down to the shard of glass still embedded in my calf and with the last of the strength remaining in my stabbed arm, I pulled it forth, dropped onto Set’s vulnerable side and drove it deep, complete with its thick covering of my blood.

  Set spasmed once, and his legs changed to that of a boar, while his face, half paralyzed, stayed somewhere between man and scorpion. He started to fall, no longer able to stay aloft, no longer able to fight, his feet scrabbling uselessly like a dog that chases a rabbit in sleep.

  And when he hit the ground, he simply lay still. Whether the paralysis spread or he’d simply given up the fight, I didn’t know. I watched for him to rise again like a movie monster, but he didn’t so much as twitch. Petrified, I thought with relief. Not dead—after all, as he’d said, the world couldn’t do completely without chaos—but for now quiescent…inert. I only hoped he’d stay that way until we could restore his chains.

  Finally, I let myself sink down as well, easing myself to the ground. I was a freaking mess with only one good leg to stand on.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I sat at the bar with Neith as nervous as a hen in a rooster house, which was a pretty apt comparison considering the way the guys at the bar were eyeing her. I’d convinced her to put herself into the hands of Spike and Roslyn, the stylists Apollo had hired for me when we’d walked the red carpet, the ones who’d managed to tame my wild hair. Her hair was no longer reined in by rows and rows of braids, but now in a soft halo around her head.

  Originally, the stylists had given her smoky eyes, bronzed her cheeks and done a whole host of other things to her, but she’d washed it all off, saying that she wasn’t going into battle and so refused to cake her face in war paint. “He’s either going to like me for me or he’s not going to like me at all.” I applauded her and reveled maybe just a bit in Spike’s consternation.

  She accepted the dress though. Still in bounty hunter black, but now in some kind of silky fabric that molded to her, thin straps crisscrossing her back. They’d paired it with an interesting gold chain with a long dangle that fell right into her décolletage, calling attention to what was there. It wasn’t much, but Nick wasn’t a breast man or he and I would never have gotten together.

  She sat now, nothing but kohl lining her eyes and a little bit of sheer gloss on her lips, looking absolutely amazing. She was completely oblivious to the attention riveted on her, and sat shredding a bar napkin into confetti.

  “I can’t do this,” she said.

  “What, dinner? You’ve faced down enemies. It shouldn’t be any harder to face down a friend.”

  She looked up at me, and I was struck again by her lethal lashes. Nick was going down. “But what if—”

  “Neith, there are no guarantees in life, you know that. Don’t ‘what if’ yourself right out of living.”

  “But—”

  She’d been drinking seltzer with lime to settle her stomach. I signaled the bartender for something stronger. When it arrived, a shot of Patrón, she gave it a look and then passed that look to me. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Liquid courage.”

  She snarled at me, again the warrior goddess. “You drink it then. I’ll face this sober or not at all.”

  One shot wasn’t going to get her drunk, but I didn’t argue it. The drink had already done what was intended, which was to square her shoulders and shore her up. She was not going to back down.

  I didn’t think Nick was either. Back in the thick of the battle, he’d not only removed her breastplate, he’d had to reach into her chest to rip out Set’s anchor into her, his disk. He’d had more luck with his bare hands than Apollo’d had with Thalia and his silly rubber gloves. I hadn’t seen the actual moment, but I’d seen Nick and Neith in the aftermath of the battle. Something had passed between them. Something life-altering. Maybe touching her heart had touched his. Or maybe seeing her vulnerable made her a little less terrifying…

  Gah, it wasn’t even my relationship and I was overthinking it. Maybe it had simply been inevitable. Fate. Or their embodiments.

  Or maybe they’d crash and burn. Time would tell.

  Neith’s head snapped up and swiveled toward the entrance as if she could sense Nick the way I could sense Apollo, because sure enough, Nick stood there, handsome in a suit, his blue tie picking up the blue of his eyes.

  I took a deep breath myself. I’d moved on, but the man still had an impact. Presence, the Hollywood crowd might have said.

  Well, I’d gotten her up to the moment. Neith could take it from here. And besides, I had security arrangements to double-check—for the still-stoned Set and his sister wives with Artemis and her devotees now guarding, giving Tawaret some much-needed time off. Then I had my own dinner plans.

  I gave Neith’s hand a quick squeeze. “Good luck.”

  I’m not sure she even noticed. She had eyes only for Nick, and she slid off her stool and headed for him like there was some kind of tractor beam pulling her.

  Leaving me w
ith the bar tab, but that was okay.

  Nick, for his part, had a word with the hostess, but his gaze caught Neith’s as he scanned the bar, and I thought I saw him take a fortifying breath.

  I paid the tab and then slipped out.

  Across town, Apollo waited to take me to the heavens—not nearly as romantic as it sounded—and then a candlelit dinner for two.

  Tomorrow I had a deposition with the lawyers on the Roland case, which was going to be…challenging. The lawyers’ strategy seemed to be a variation on Jessica’s “curse of the pharaohs” idea. They were even calling in Panacea, as the world-renowned epidemiologist who’d spearheaded the cure for the zombie virus that had struck New York to sell the idea. After all, that had been a case where hundreds of thousands who hadn’t been quite themselves had wreaked havoc and brought bloodshed to the city and had never been prosecuted. I hoped that it worked…and that it would convince the Egyptian authorities as well.

  And after the deposition…my promised interview with Susie Tallios.

  There was no question which I dreaded more. I suspected that after tomorrow my world would never be the same.

  But tonight there was Apollo. I’d also make sure of nudity…and cake…not necessarily in that order.

  About the Author

  Lucienne Diver does not actually come from circus folk, though you’d never know it to meet her family. She is, however, in no particular order, wife, mother, book addict, sun-worshipper, mythology enthusiast, beader, travel-junkie, clothes horse and crazy person. In addition to the Latter-Day Olympians series for Samhain, she writes the Vamped series of young adult novels (Vamped, Revamped, Fangtastic and Fangtabulous). Her short stories have appeared in the Strip-Mauled and Fangs for the Mammaries anthologies edited by Esther Friesner (Baen Books) and Kicking It edited by Faith Hunter and Kalayna Price (Roc). Her essay “Abuse” is included in anthology Dear Bully: 70 Authors Tell Their Stories (HarperTeen). More information can be found on her website at www.luciennediver.com. You can also follow her on Twitter @luciennediver.

  Look for these titles by Lucienne Diver

  Now Available:

  Latter-Day Olympians

  Bad Blood

  Crazy in the Blood

  Rise of the Blood

  Battle for the Blood

  Trickster Blood

  Don’t miss the other titles in Lucienne Diver’s Latter-Day Olympians Series!

  Dragons, demons, gods, gorgons. Who will save the world…and who could destroy it?

  Latter-Day Olympians, Book 4

  Tori wakes after Rise of the Blood to two very shocking realizations: one, she’s in bed with a very naked Apollo, having lost the fight to resist their attraction. Two, she still has her wings. Not dinky little fairy wings. Full-scale, cover-’em-with-a-trench-coat bat wings.

  Apollo suggests consulting the Gray Sisters on the wings. Those cannibalistic, psychopathic oracles who, even with only one tooth and one eye among them, manage to see too much. As in a Rapture, zombie-apocalypse, biblical-plague, hellgates-busted-open the end of the world.

  While the Sisters are perfectly on board with death and destruction, the thinning of the human herd doesn’t sit well with them at all. They’ll help her. All she has to do is save the world.

  Tori and her team trace the origin of the plagues to New York City, which is under quarantine and martial law—as if that’s enough to stop the influx of gods and gorgons, dragons and demons. But as death threatens from without, betrayal lurks within Tori’s ranks. And nobody is safe. Nobody.

  Warning: Betrayal and bad-assery, sensuality and a sizzling hot sun god. Death, demons, destruction and, potentially, the end of the world as we know it…zombie style.

  If you loved this book, then you’re sure to love these Samhain favorites as well!

  He would walk into hell for her. Hell’s not willing to let him back out.

  Grimm’s Circle, Book 9

  Years have passed since Will flung himself headlong into demon central. Everyone has told Mandy he’s lost to them, but she still won’t believe it. He was her heart and soul—still is—even if he never admitted they belonged together.

  When a friend is nearly torn through a rip between the worlds, Mandy gets the sign she’s hoped and prayed for. Her friend is thrust back through to safety by no other than Will himself.

  With all hell breaking loose on earth, only two Grimm can be spared for the mission to retrieve their leader—Mandy and the only other Grimm crazy enough to go with her.

  Will would forget the color of the sky before he’d forget the love of all his lives. But his time is done. It’s only a matter of which demon will finally destroy him.

  He never thought his final moments would be haunted by Mandy’s face. But is it a fitting punishment, or one last chance to atone for crimes he committed so long ago?

  Warning: This book contains too much angst, too many secrets, and two people who long to be together. It’s also the end of a long, fun ride. Thanks for taking it.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Blood Hunt

  Copyright © 2015 by Lucienne Diver

  ISBN: 978-1-61922-630-2

  Edited by Tera Cuskaden

  Cover by Kanaxa

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2015

  www.samhainpublishing.com