by LJ Vickery
Verrie begged to differ. Not about the source of heat but the cause. Douglas, in skin-tight jeans that emphasized his bite-able ass was probably the one provoking the heated sheen on Emesh and the surrounding area.
Verrie sighed. She hated to break the mood between the two. It was pretty obvious they were both tired…in the kind of way that would have them sexually engaged in a matter of minutes. So, no. It wasn’t time for a heart to heart. It was actually time for her to exit, stage left.
“I’ll leave you gentlemen to the patio,” she offered, rising from her seat.
“Oh. Don’t think you have to go on our account.” The look that zinged from Emesh to Douglas was even more heated than before and gave lie to the god’s words.
“Are you kidding? I’m going inside before I accidentally get burned,” she laughed. “Enjoy your…sunbathing.” She walked through the French doors, and with an afterthought, turned. “Do you want me to lock…” Verrie shook her head. Engaged in the most sinful kiss, the pair had already begun to mist out. Oh my gods. Could they really “do it” while invisible, or were they just going elsewhere to continue their tryst. Verrie wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The last thing she needed to imagine were invisible couples fucking like bunnies as she walked through one of the vast rooms. Huh. Another question to add to her list.
It seemed like everyone was busy with one thing or another. Absu was in the kitchen, giving cooking lessons to little Maity who seemed to have more food on herself than anywhere else, but the pair were having a lot of fun. When she asked where his wife Charlie was, Absu told her a bunch of the ladies had gone to the mall for a day of shopping and spa-ing. Great. That explained the lack of goddesses.
Verrie wandered around aimlessly for a while, picking up knick-knacks and running her fingers over some fine, soft leather furniture. Who would have thought she could be bored in a multi-level house filled with immortals? Wait. Multi-level. Her eyes took on a knowing gleam. Oh, hell yes. She knew exactly where to go.
Verrie strode assuredly to the elevator, and when its silent doors opened, she pushed the button for the dungeons. She’d promised Matthew a “talking to,” and now was a perfect time. She’d see what his troubles were all about, then pump the god for information that might shed light on her own personal woes—win-win.
She was met at the bottom floor by a couple of the blue-guys who were currently guarding the egress. Verrie hadn’t been formally introduced to the group and tried to tamp down her curiosity over their azure tones while stating her business.
“Hi, I’m Verrie. We may or may not have met already.” Shit. Did all blue guys look alike? “I’m interested in talking to Matthew…the prisoner. I’m sure Jake said it was okay.”
“Cerulen.” A short bald individual came forward from behind the other two and stuck out his hand.
Okay. He looked completely different from the elevator sentries. She took his proffered palm and was surprised to find it warm—another preconception debunked. They weren’t as cold as they looked. “And this is Scobalt and Berylm,” he continued. Scobalt, Verrie confirmed, was a deeper blue than his friends, and Berylm was more highly muscled than the others. She’d remember them next time around.
“Jake didn’t mention the prisoner was to have guests,” Cerulen’s charmingly accented voice cut into her thoughts. “And the agent is not in residence at the moment.”
Verrie was aware Jake and Candy as well as Ken were DEA agents and flipped back and forth between their east coast home and their west coast job. Since they were commuting god-style, it only took them half an hour to get to and from California, but still, she didn’t want them to bother Jake.
“Is there anyone else you can ask?” She put a small push on her words that often worked toward getting her own way. It was funny. Small things she’d always been able to do—like down deep knowing if someone was good or bad, and pushing people’s minds to make them amenable to her wishes—had always puzzled her. Now, she knew her small amount of god’s-blood was responsible for her “powers”, and she felt less guilty using them.
“No need to give me a nudge, Cerulen grinned.
Shit. He could feel that?
“I’m already in touch with our head of security, Razure who has a direct line to Jake. We should have you an answer in…wait.” He got that look. The one that meant he was talking on another level. When his eyes refocused, he smiled. “Jake says it’s okay as long as you don’t get too close.”
“Thanks.” Verrie let out her held breath. “And thank Razure and Jake, too,” she added. The little man bowed and swept a hand down the hallway.
“If you would follow me,” he said.
Matthew was already standing at his bars, having obviously heard their conversation with his superior god-hearing. But the dungeon was so echo-y, Verrie momentarily wondered how she was going to keep her questioning private from the blue men. Matthew answered that question quickly enough.
They can’t hear us if we talk in our heads. They can only communicate with their own kind that way. I’m assuming there’s something you’d like to keep secret from them? In answer to her raised eyebrows he shrugged. I don’t get many casual visitors.
“I think it would be a good idea to speak out loud, for most of our conversation,” Verrie amended in head-talk. “After all, your situation is well known to everyone here except me.” She turned and nodded a quick thank you to Berylm who came up behind her with a chair. Verrie took a seat and settled in.
“So tell me. When did your idea of god-dom and the other immortals’ conception of such head in different directions?” Verrie thought it was a good question and watched as the almost too handsome blond pondered. Yes. Almost too handsome. Thank the gods for the placement of his eyes or good women everywhere would have been throwing themselves at his feet.
“You have me wrong, Verrie. I can call you Verrie, can’t I?” he added charmingly.
“Of course.” She inclined her head for him to continue.
“I’m a newly made god, less than a year in this incarnation. The goddess Beletseri… my lovely wife”―had those too close together eyes teared up―“chose me several months ago and turned me into an immortal.” He paused to regroup, clearly overcome with emotion. “We’re really still in our honeymoon period, and I’m having some difficulty being apart from her,” he apologized.
“I’m sorry.” And Verrie was surprised to find out she meant it. Apparently, love even for bad-guys made her sappy. Verrie wanted more of the story and pushed Matthew a bit to explain. “I understand she’s been kidnapped, but I’m not certain how that was accomplished.”
“We were at the circus looking for…trouble.” The big god shrugged. “Bel was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ridhwan was poised, prepared to abduct Shamash and Quinn but ended up with my wife instead.”
Verrie nodded. “I understand the pair of you have long been a thorn in the side of the gods who reside here.”
Matthew straightened up. “If you’re asking if I aligned with Bel to make their lives a hell, then yes, I’ll admit to that.”
“But why?” Verrie asked.
“Because they all contributed toward making her lonely and miserable for thousands of years.” His lips hardened. “You heard your exemplary group must find their mates before September fifteenth, or they get sent back to hell?”
Verrie nodded tersely.
“Well, it was our goal to hold…not kill…any one of the women who were to be their Chosen before they were able to undergo the amulet ceremony. That way, they’d have to go back to the Underworld. Where they belong.” Matthew folded his arms across his massive chest.
“But to what end?” Verrie questioned again. “What did you expect to accomplish if you managed to be successful?”
“Suffering,” Matthew spat. “Suffering for all the arrogant assholes above.” He stood up and paced his cage. “You have no idea. And truthfully, neither did I until I was mated and could feel what my Bel felt—the amount o
f torment she suffered at their hands. The hurtful words they carelessly flung at her. It amounted to nothing less than bullying. She wasn’t good enough…smart enough…godly enough for them to waste time with her. She needed friends, and what did she get? Nothing. An existence devoid of happiness…and love. You’ve seen people here on earth spend their lives without it and know how bitter they become. Imagine going thousands of years without one single friend or lover. Is it any wonder Bel looked toward under-gods and demons for fulfillment? I should be jealous and angry she took Nedu, the gate-keeper of the north as a lover, but in fact, it’s just the opposite. I am grateful to him for giving Bel just one small scrap of tenderness.”
Verrie was torn. Should she be the one to set Matthew straight about Nedu? She’d been at the meeting where Nergal had declared the gate-keeper in league with demons. Verrie weighed it carefully and felt it was best to fill Matthew in. She switched to head-speak.
I want you to take a deep breath and sit down, she told him. And it’s important you maintain a calm visage no matter how much the information I’m about to impart angers you. When he didn’t answer she prodded. Do I have your promise?
You do, Matthew finally answered, somewhat reluctantly, and sat.
Fine. I’ll make it as succinct as possible. When Nergal interrogated Nedu, he found that Bel was not responsible for the death of his child. Nedu was. Not only that, but the gate-keeper had been working with a group of demons and someone much higher up―or lower down―for many years before meeting Beletseri. Here she paused to take a deep breath. That someone ordered Nedu to befriend your wife. To manipulate her. Feeding her hatred of Marduk’s group until they convinced her to do everything she could to bring them to heel, have them stripped of powers. This continued right down to the current plan of trying to kidnap Chosen to make sure the gods get sent back to hell.
Verrie sat and watched the play of emotions tighten Matthew’s face into a mask of fury. She waited patiently until his jaw unclenched and his fists eased into flatness on his knees. She gave a huff of relief. It had been the right decision to tell him. She could read it in his demeanor without even using her magic touching ability. If one of his “enemy” gods had told him, he never would have believed it. As it was, he believed her.
Who is it? This kingpin? He stood and gritted the words out of his head.
“They don’t know yet,” Verrie replied, whispering this time. “There is much investigating being done with some faction who Nergal calls “glowies” attempting to locate the group of demons with who Nedu had his long association.”
“Tell Marduk to let me free.” Matthew’s eyes glittered dangerously. “I would help locate the fiends…after I have eviscerated Nedu.”
“Your revenge against that individual will be unnecessary,” Verrie told him. “Nergal’s interrogation left the man’s mind little more than a cracked shell. The king doubts whether the minor god will be able to do much more than drool for the rest of eternity.”
“Then I owe the king a huge debt,” Matthew sneered. “But I would also help him locate the one who controlled the gate-keeper.”
“Well, that’s not up to me.” Verrie had given Matthew a lot to think about, but now she was anxious for some answers of her own. Yet, how to change the subject? “You’ll need to speak with Marduk and Nergal. They may see reason if you show them the passion you’ve shown to me…and speaking of passion…”
Matthew’s brows went up. “We weren’t,” he said, “speaking of passion.” He looked Verrie up and down. “Ah. I see. You’ve given me everything you know, and now you want something in return. Am I correct?”
“Not unless you’re willing.” She felt the color move up into her face. “And it’s nothing I can’t find out from some of the other gods or goddesses. I just thought since we’re here, alone…”
“That I would fill in some gaps in your god-education. Is that it?” Surprisingly, his tone turned almost kind.
“There are things Dumuzi hasn’t explained. Things that might be…bothering him.”
Matthew sat back down and looked at Verrie, long and hard. “I’m not sure you have anything to worry about. When a pair is meant to be mated, any doubts about love and forever-ness take a back seat.”
“But that’s my point,” Verrie began before glancing over at the blue men and switching to head speak. How does Dumuzi know we’re meant to be mated? I’m not having any doubts on my end, but he seems more unsure the closer we get to our ceremony.
Matthew gave her what could only be an encouraging smile. Don’t worry. Dumuzi knows you belong to him and vice versa. The minute his amulet lit up for you, your combined fates were sealed.
Amulet? Verrie knew she looked stupefied. You mean his life-giving force? What does that have to do with anything?
Now Matthew looked a little less sure of himself. As a matter of fact, he looked decidedly uncomfortable. Umm. You know… When a god meets his true Chosen, his amulet lights up. He hasn’t…he didn’t…
“No. He hasn’t, and he didn’t.” Verrie leaped up out of her chair, startling both Matthew and the guards. “Lighting up, huh? He never said a word. And because this hasn’t happened, I’m probably not ‘the one’?” she said the last sarcastically. “Well, how about that? It looks like he’s been feeding me a line,” she snapped, “and to what end?” She sent Matthew a scathing look that wasn’t meant for him. “You can bet I’m damned well going to find out…right before I kill him.”
She stalked down the hallway, quietly ranting. Gods-damn prick. Dumuzi knew all along he had to light up. And he hadn’t. He’d been keeping that little gem away from her…and why? For sex? She couldn’t imagine that. She’d shown him her willingness even before the talk of mating ceremonies.
The god had some explaining to do…and fast. And he also better hope she hadn’t learned too much about his vulnerable bits during her brief self-defense lessons. If she had, he was in serious trouble.
Chapter Twenty-one
Dumuzi and the other gods returned from the jungle with only mosquito bites and sweaty balls for their troubles. The area Marla thought might hide Ridhwan had simply been an enclave of real cats…not shifters.
The whole time he’d been gone, all he could think about was getting back to Verrie. And…yeah. How his amulet had not yet lit up for her yet. How was that possible? In the short time they’d known each other, she had become everything to him. Their physical attraction, right from the start, had damned near bowled him over. And the lightness and joy she brought to every other aspect of their togetherness was downright amazing for a woman who had faced so much adversity.
She teased, she joked, she was brilliant in her knowledge of the human psyche. And when she’d playfully yet thoughtfully analyzed his years of holding himself in a stoned-like stupor, she’d nailed his condition on the head…and he hadn’t yet told her the most fucked up part. She’d have a field day with that one.
He’d fallen for her. That was for sure. He couldn’t imagine moving on in life without her or her sassy daughter or her quirky friends—to go back to his empty existence where his only trusted confidante was Archie. No thank you.
To those ends, it was time to seek some advice.
Marduk? Where are you, brother?
In command central, taking a turn monitoring computers and surveillance while Sham and Lahar are gone, he answered.
Do you have a minute to talk? Dumuzi didn’t pause. He was already headed in Marduk’s direction. Their designated leader never said no when one of his household had problems to discuss.
Absolutely. I was starting to go cross-eyed here, anyway.
Dumuzi heard the thunder god chuckle. Not surprising. Marduk was a man of careful planning and succinct action, not a techno-geek-god. He’d probably rather he was back in hell than in mainframe purgatory.
Dumuzi entered the computer room to see Marduk with his feet propped up on a desk filled with keyboards, motherboards, and wires. A partially eaten sandwich, a cup
with coffee dregs, and a large plate of cookies―compliments of Absu and Maity no doubt―were perched next to his calves.
If Lahar could see the boss now, the logical god would have a meltdown. Nobody did “feet up” on Lahar’s desk, and food was strictly forbidden. Dumuzi gave a mental shrug. Not his problem. Marduk lived by his own rules, and Lahar wouldn’t find out from him.
Marduk saw him eyeballing the food. “Have a cookie,” he encouraged, snagging another for himself and leaning back in his seat. “And tell me what’s stuck up your ass?”
Ah, yes. The thunder god had a colorful way with words. Dumuzi figured he might just as well get down to it.
“It’s about me and Verrie.” He took the offered dessert and put it in his mouth. He knew it was good, but it tasted like so much cardboard in his spit-dry mouth. “As you probably figured, we’ve, uh, been together a bunch of times by now.”
“Yeah,” Marduk smirked. “The noises coming from your room kind of gave that away.”
Dumuzi chose to ignore that and plowed ahead. “But my amulet hasn’t lit up for her yet.” He knew he mumbled and ran the words together, but by Marduk’s suddenly stiff posture, the boss understood.
The thunder god brought his feet down and placed them on the floor, righting his chair in the process. He put his cookie back on the plate and stared hard at Dumuzi. “You’re sure?” he asked, keeping the angst out of his voice, for which Muze was thankful.
“I’m sure,” the veggie-god confirmed. “And it’s not like there’s anything wrong between us.” Now that Dumuzi had begun, he couldn’t seem to stop even if the shit he spewed fell into the category of “over-share.”
“The sex is fantastic. She’s hot and ready all the time, and I’m surprised I’m not a walking dry-husk with the amount of ejaculate I’ve gushed in the past couple of days.” He ran a hand through his long red hair. “And when we’re not fucking, we’re talking…for hours or laughing at something we both find mutually ridiculous. I feel like she’s in my head and under my skin, and Verrie says she feels the same way. So what’s the problem? Shouldn’t I be lit up all over the place by now?” Dumuzi couldn’t keep to his feet a moment longer. He sank down to the edge of the desk and sent pleading eyes to Marduk. Please, please, please let something reassuring come out of his boss’s mouth.
