Tendril Hearts (Immortals Book 11)

by LJ Vickery

  Not to worry, Verrie stood up, did a quick twirl, and patted his shoulder. Verrie is feeling just fine. She put a finger to his lips and shushed him, sending her voice back to the nether-fiends. Demons. Old buddies, old pals. Gotta go now. Uggla dwigg gaddawah. Wheee. I got that one, didn’t I. It means I’m gonna go find me a monster. Grrrr.

  She vaguely heard her daughter’s voice. “Is Mom drunk?”

  “Not that we know of,” Marduk barked. “Verrie. Stay focused. We can’t lose them now, we’re so close.”

  She didn’t’ care what Marduk wanted. She knew what she wanted

  “How do I say, ‘bye-bye demons?’” Verrie asked Dagon, getting inches from his face and tugging so hard on a lock of his blue-black hair, it made him yelp.

  “Ooh, I think my boy liked that,” Holly’s voice came from somewhere within the women’s circle and was filled with heat. “He can be a very bad beast, Ms. Foxie. If you ever want to join us…”

  “No, no, Holly.” Verrie stuck up a stop-sign hand. “Not in front of my young ladies.” She waggled a finger toward the female group. “Si and Riles don’t need to know about ménage a…ménage a…uh, threesomes. Even with delectable, lickable…” She came even closer to Dagon who looked like he was having trouble keeping his hands on the table. Verrie stood up abruptly. “Damn. Did I say that?” She spun around again. “Where’s my big man? Oh, yeah. Gotta go.” She gave a quick flash of her fingers and skipped out the door.

  “Shit. They’re gone.” She heard Marduk’s pissed off voice follow her as she bounced down the hall and laughed when he added, “Emesh, Douglas, go keep an eye on her.” He then switched to head-speak. Jake. Has Dumuzi changed back yet?

  Negative Marduk. He’s still deep into angry-time.

  Well, Verrie is coming down, so don’t let her out of the elevator. That’s all she needs, see Muze in his fucked-up state.

  Ah. Elevator. Verrie’s mind seized on that with glee. She’d have to thank Mr. Marduk for pointing her in the right direction.

  Dumuzi, my sweet, I’m coming, she trilled. Spotting the elevator across the expanse of the enormous front entry, she ran quickly to it and pushed the call button. She sensed bodies crowding in behind her and turning to lean on the wall for support, she willed her eyes to focus up close.

  “Emesh,” she gushed. “Douglas.” She shook a finger under one of their noses…which one she couldn’t be sure. “You two aren’t going to try to stop me, are you?”

  “What do you think, Douglas? Should we just let her rip off the band-aid?” Emesh’s warm voice washed over her like a honeyed balm. She hoped he would keep talking. “I think the sooner she sees what Dumuzi becomes, the better. And in her…” he waved a hand around airily, “…state,” he cutely rolled his eyes, “she might take it a little easier.”

  “I say we go for it,” the beautiful mocha-brown Douglas agreed.

  Yippee. They weren’t pulling the brake on her happy little train.

  “Hell, I haven’t seen Dumuzi’s other side. I’m damned curious what the fuss is all about.” Douglas flashed her a smile.

  “Okay,” Emesh sniffed, holding the door to the elevator that had just arrived. “But both of you be warned. Unlike a lot of the other guys, Muze is not an appealing sight.”

  Verrie poked Emesh in the chest on the way into the lift. “Hey, that’s my man you’re talking about, and I’ll thank you to keep your lip buttoned. Haven’t you ever heard of beauty and the beast?” she quipped. “Fairy tales do come true, buster, and this beauty is going after her beast.” The doors closed behind them as Verrie silently dared Emesh to disagree. He smartly buttoned his twitching, upturned lips.

  Elevator. Elevator. Verrie stood, tapping her foot impatiently. What was the damned thing doing? Going to China? Would that she could poof in and out like the gods. Wait. Would she be able to do that if she mated with Dumuzi? Cool. Now that was the way to move.

  When the doors finally slid apart, Candy stood, splayed across the opening like some kind of starfish.

  “Okay, okay, okay,” Verrie snarked, attempting…and failing to duck under Candy’s arm. She shot back up to a full five-foot-five height—one inch taller than Candy. “I get it. He’s not pretty like Enlil―who’s fucking sexy as hell with those horns―but if anyone tried to keep you from your man, what would you tell them?” Verrie might be feeling deliciously giddy, but she wasn’t stupid. The goddesses all loved themselves some gods, and nobody got betwixt them.

  “I’d tell them to stuff it up their keister.”

  “Right. Up their keister.”

  Candy grinned and stood back with a sweep of her arm, letting the elevator group pass.

  Well, how about that? Keister must have been the magic word, Verrie smirked.

  “Oh, Candy, you didn’t.”

  Jake was her next obstacle. He might be a little more difficult. The big DEA dude—all crewcut, square-jaw, bad-ass of him—didn’t look like he was about to move anytime soon. She once again fished out her lady “dom” chops.

  “Move it before my friends and I slap you in a cell.” Her eyes slid to the left and noticed the door to a very interesting room named “Sub-space”….with a sign-up sheet outside showing the times of day and a whole lot of names filling in the spots. Well, what do you know? The gods enjoyed some kink. Here was a game she knew how to play. She turned back to Jake. “Once I’ve turned goddess, you don’t want me teaming up with your wife to put you in that particular lock-up,” Verrie purred. “Because I’ll tell you right now, you’ll give the term ‘bottom’ a whole new look.”

  “Shit, no.” Jake’s face drained of color, and Verrie couldn’t keep track of who was laughing hardest—the gay couple who had the right of “bottom” and “top,” or Candy, who probably just envisioned her straight-laced boss trussed and mussed. Verrie didn’t care. It had gotten her what she wanted—a hallway pass.

  I’m coming, my big, protective monster, Verrie threw out into the air, and her steps didn’t hesitate even when a large roar came from the far end of the long corridor. Don’t be shy, she admonished. There’s something lovely in all of us.

  Before she reached her destination, her gaze was drawn to a sullen individual sitting dejectedly on a bench in a cell to her left.

  “And you must be the esteemed bastard, Matthew,” Verrie chimed. “Although I have yet to hear all of your transgressions, I delight in informing you our very own King Nergal has decreed your Bel… Hey, there it is again.” Verrie lost herself for a moment. “Isn’t that the name of the Beauty and the Beast chick? I am so loving this whole metaphor thing.”

  Matthew was at the bars now, his eyes growing wide. “What was it the king said?” he asked in a shaky voice that had some nice tonal qualities. My. He’d be a good-looking man if his eyes weren’t so close together.

  “Huh? What?” Verrie tried to focus because to give the guy his due, he wasn’t yelling or anything despite his anxiousness.

  “You said something about King Nergal and Bel,” he prompted.

  “Oh, yeah.” Verrie brightened. “He said she didn’t kill any babies, and she’s only a pawn in someone’s game.”

  As she saw Matthew’s face blanch, she tried to figure out what she’d said wrong and attempted to add a few assurances. “I’m sure she’s a very good pawn…since she’s not a baby killer, and Nergal’s trying to get to the bottom of whose pawn she is. Don’t worry.”

  He face remained blank, despite her affirmations, so she felt it was a good time to move on. “Have a nice day,” she waved and skipped the next ten feet to the last cell on the right.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Verrie chanted and saw movement in the far end of a very large, enclosed space. “Dumuzi, I’ve come to liberate you.” She wrinkled up the corners of her eyes in satisfaction at her joyous double entendre. Yes. She was coming to release him from his confines, but she was also going to free him from thinking he was an ugly monster.

  “Now, come over here where I ca
n see you,” she coaxed. “There’s absolutely nothing you can look like that will scare me. I promise.”

  When he didn’t move, Verrie sighed. Really? He was going to make her be bossy again? Why was it all the males here who she’d given a glimpse of her assertive side seemed to like it? Was it a god thing? They were all so powerful, maybe it was kind of fun for someone else to take charge for a bit? She’d have to feel that one out—later with the other gods, right now with hers.

  “Okay, I’ve had it, Dumuzi. You’re being a very bad boy,” she growled, “and I can think up all kinds of punishment for a monster as disobedient as you. Now, I want you to march over here, this very minute, and don’t think about giving me any sass. You got that?” Verrie demanded an answer.

  A disconcerted grunt came from an enormous, dark shape in the corner, but she saw it unwind from its crouched position.

  She crossed her arms over her suddenly heaving chest as the Dumuzi-thing stood to full height. Okay. Seven feet? Eight?

  This was Dumuzi, Verrie reminded herself. Dumuzi of the delicious cock and the rock-hard abs. Dumuzi who wanted to protect her from demons. Her heart started beating harder under her ribcage as large…feet came a stride closer.

  He stepped into the light.

  Holy Mother-of-God, Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. She’d never seen anything like him in her entire life.

  Was there anybody else she could pray to?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Okay. So they’d been right. Dumuzi wasn’t cute. Verrie abruptly lost all her daffy sizzle. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been this. Her feet wanted, in the worst way, to move backward, away from him as he approached the bars of his cage, but her gut said “no.”

  Douglas, who had been curious and right with her all the way, had no such qualms. She felt him back off.

  Shit. What should she do? Verrie took a deep breath, and it helped. At least the…pile of vegetation moving toward her didn’t smell. No. Quite the opposite. It…he…smelled exactly like Dumuzi, only more so. Okay, that was a positive. His earthy scent filled her nostrils, and it had turned her on earlier, in the closet. She could use that.

  “Dumuzi,” she said, in her best, most prim schoolmarm tone. “As you can see, I am no longer tormented by the demon’s voices, so you can calm down.”

  The seven-plus foot mountain of muck and vines stalked closer. He still hadn’t raised his head so she could see his eyes—that might or might not mirror those of Dumuzi.

  “Did you hear me…mate?” Verrie figured what the hell. She might as well remind him of who she was supposed to be. “Everything is a-okay. My head is once again my own.”

  His face rose slowly out of the swampy mass of his body, bringing his shoulders to even greater height.

  Yikes. His head scraped the ceiling. Once again, Verrie fought the urge to move back, and instead, connected with his now visible eyes. She grew hopeful, but upon further scrutiny, she shivered. They were the same color she was familiar with, brown with flecks of mossy green, but there was no indication in their depths he knew who she was.

  She was captivated by their blank coldness and almost, but not quite, missed the casual lifting of his arm. His arm? Yeah, sure. If that was what you could call it. The limb―she almost laughed at the pun―was more like a twist of green tendrils, each individually curling, stretching out to dart at odd angles, searching, prodding. The tangle as a whole moved toward the bars in her direction—she was transfixed.

  Verrie let out a squeak of fear when she was grabbed from behind and yanked backward. “What the—”

  The roaring reaction to her forcible withdrawal cut into her surprised words. It was unlike anything she’d ever heard. The air around her pulsed as the muddy green monster vibrated with anger.

  Jake, maintaining a commanding arm around her waist, spoke into her ear. “He could have been the one who grabbed you with those innocent looking little vines,” the agent hissed. “He’s faster than he looks and extremely dangerous.” Jake raised his voice to be heard over the bellowing rage coming from inside the cage. “Those tendrils can extend several feet, and once they hook on to you, they pull you in.”

  Verrie tried to calm her breathing to take a closer look at the Dumuzi-monster now that he was pissed and showing all his true colors…lots of colors. The beast mimicked every swampy forest she’d ever seen—greens, golds, and blues, all bound together by wet, muddy browns.

  His legs mimicked his arms with the bright green vine-y filaments constantly twining and reaching. His torso more resembled the thick, taut ropes of old growth. Verrie avoided his face, hoping he would calm down before she had to confront him again, and concentrated instead on the glorious appendages now extending from his back.

  Wings. Holy shit. His wingspan had to be at least fifteen feet, and it was probably larger when not impeded by cell walls. Verrie noted, unlike his other extremities, these were not creeping and crawling. They were made up of the softest-looking verdant moss she had ever seen—pliable, delicate, smooth. Her mind instantly wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in that cushiony fleece.

  Dumuzi’s roaring had not abated, and Verrie quickly figured out what was wrong.

  “Jake, let go of me,” she spoke loudly over the din. “He’s freaked because you grabbed me. Remember, from what we’ve been able to figure, he thinks he’s my protector.” Verrie swallowed. Which would mean if he got his little…tendrils…on her, he wouldn’t hurt her. Would he?

  Jake let go.

  The bellowing diminished, and Verrie finally allowed herself a look at Dumuzi’s face. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she snapped it shut.

  Copper coloring still covered his head, but instead of his long, spiraling locks, his topping had the consistency of fall leaves artfully arranged. It dipped down over a strong, chiseled forehead made from packed, dried mud? His eyes glittered dangerously above a surprisingly cute, green button nose. And his mouth? Oh. His mouth. Looking there, the little moisture left on her own tongue completely dried up.

  Four long, dangerous fangs emerged from between lush, sage-colored lips, two from the bottom and two from the top, and they looked so sharp, a small swipe from any one of them might completely remove a hand…or slit a throat. They were white, stark white, in contrast with the forest colors covering the rest of him.

  As if sensing her terror, Dumuzi opened his mouth wide and sucked the fangs back up into his gums where they became little more than pin-point protrusions. His tongue, which still looked very similar to the one she’d been sucking on earlier, swiped lazily across the tips. What? If Verrie didn’t know better, she’d swear he just executed a deliberately sexy move. Huh.

  She took two steps closer and pushed a hand behind her to keep both Jake and Candy at bay. The agents were twitchy as hell and right on her heels. Emesh, on the other hand, had positioned himself across the way, nearer to Matthew’s cell but was concentrating on giving off a subtle warmth that had Dumuzi’s little green whorls taking note. It was as if the bits couldn’t help themselves, gravitating toward the god of summer in a happy dance. It was helping take the edge off of Dumuzi.

  Verrie moved another few inches. “Do you know who I am?” she asked, and his button nose twitched. His wings, in the process of folding up, fluttered briefly.

  “I think you do,” she told him. “And you’re not going to hurt me, are you?” Verrie suddenly became positive he wouldn’t. Her rational brain told her Dumuzi had suffered right along with not only her during her episodes but with every one of her ancestors throughout the years who had been subject to the same torture. Every time the demons had fucked with someone in her family, Dumuzi had turned into this monster. What better reason could there be than he had been attempting to render protection, but until now, had been unable to reach whoever he was trying to safeguard?

  Boldly, she approached the cell. This was either life or death—Marduk had assured her she belonged to Dumuzi, so she was counting on living.


  Faster than her head could get around it, two supple vines on his right arm separated from the rest and shot toward her, one twining around her neck, the other around her waist, dragging her toward him to rest up against the bars of his cage. With great effort, Verrie kept her muscles lax and her breathing regular.

  “Drop her, Muze,” Jake’s voice challenged behind her. “I’m not fooling around.” There was a dangerous edge to his voice.

  “Jake, please.” The vine around Verrie’s throat wasn’t tight enough to choke. She allowed rational thought to tamp down her fear and realized the creeper around her middle was more caressing than confining. “He’s just trying to get to know me. Please.” She turned her eyes away for a second from the brown ones that drilled into hers. “Give him a few minutes. If it looks like it’s going all wrong, you can intervene.” Verrie knew she was supposed to spend the rest of eternity with Dumuzi, so she’d better get used to his dark side.

  An actual semi-amused smile touched her lips as she wondered what Sienna would think of Dumuzi’s swamp-guy. And speaking of her captor, she heard him emit a small, annoyed grunt at her little grin. Sienna, always logical, would find some way to rationalize his looks and focus on the positive. Verrie needed to do the same.

  Dumuzi didn’t move, so she needed to find things to talk about. Verrie told him what had struck her funny. “I was just remembering Sienna couldn’t wait to find out what hotly sexy creature you turned into. I think she was imagining something along the lines of buff and fuzzy.” She drew back her head and looked at the moist, sludgy substance that clung between the sharp-hued vines of his chest. “I’m not sure she had a walking mud-bath in mind.”

  His brow creased and a sound of unease moved up through his chest.

  Verrie backpedaled. “Oh, don’t think you’re chopped liver, here,” she placated. “As monsters go, I believe you have most everything she’s ever seen on TV beat, hands down.”

  Now that she looked closely at the ropey thicket that was his chest—and everything lower—his vines actually emulated some pretty serious muscle groups. She’d heard of rock hard, but wood hard? Oh. Okay, that got her laughing again.