by Sumida, Amy
Marked by Death
Amy Sumida
Copyright © 2013 Amy Sumida
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 1492119873
ISBN-13: 978-1492119876
DEDICATION
For Sommer Castor, who after being marked by Death, walked with me through Hell.
Acknowledgments
I'd like to thank my family for being so supportive of all my artistic endeavors, without their love and patience, these books would not have been possible.
Also a quick note about the research done for the Godhunter series. The god characters in my books are based on myths and religious beliefs, I try to keep true to the stories, adding personalities to them that I think are appropriate. The legends of the gods have been the biggest influence for my own stories.
Pronunciation Guide
Acan: Ah-kahn
Bilskinir: Bill-ska-neer
Froekn: Fro-kin
Gladsheim:Glahts-heym
Huitzilopochtli: Weet-seal-oh-POACHED-lee
Intare: In-tar-ay
Kirill: Key-reel
Nephthys: Nep-th-es
Nyavirezi: Nee-yah-veer-ez-ee
Re: Rah
Rouva: Roo-vah
Tima: Tee-mah
Valaskjálf: Vah-lask-chalv
More Books by Amy Sumida
The Godhunter Series(in order)
Godhunter
Of Gods and Wolves
Oathbreaker
(Marked by Death)
Next in the Series:
Green Tea and Black Death
A Taste for Blood
The Tainted Web
Series Split:
These books can be read together or seperately
Harvest of the Gods & A Fey Harvest
Other Books
The Magic of Fabric
Feeding the Lwas: A Vodou Cookbook
Chapter One
“You’re mine.”
His fingertips rested lightly on my neck but I knew at any moment they could tighten, stealing my breath, and there was nothing I could do about it. My body refused to obey me, like someone else was controlling it and I a mere puppet. I tried not to panic as I waited for the end to come but those large fingers didn’t tighten, they didn't strangle me as I'd expected. Instead, they skimmed down to my collarbone, my arm, my hand. He lifted it up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on my fingertips.
I stared at those firm lips, expecting to find cruelty but finding only determination. His bottom lip was fuller than I remembered, lending a softness to his otherwise harsh features. His chin was square but sharply so, with a jawline sweeping down in a dramatic angle. A slight widow's peak directed attention to deep set eyes topped with slashing brows, and then down the line of his thick nose. He was so beautiful, it was distracting me, I couldn't see past it. So I focused my gaze on his, no matter how well he hid his true nature, his eyes would prove traitorous.
They were black, pupils and irises blending into one, with colors swirling over their surface like an oil slick in the sun. Every color I could think of was there, ghosting over his eyes, then diving down into a vortex, as if he were pulling them inside himself. I felt myself lean forward, following the colors down into his darkness.
He blinked slowly and broke the spell.
“Anubis,” I whispered as my body pressed into his.
“Godhunter,” his lips went to my shoulder, his arms around my waist.
Straight, black hair hung to his shoulders, shining like glass and glittering with gold here and there, where a few cylindrical beads were crimped onto his thick locks. My hands gathered the heavy mass of it, lifting it to my face so I could inhale the sweet scent of frankincense and myrrh. Intoxicating, everything about him was intoxicating.
“No,” I tried to pull away. There was something I was forgetting, someone I was forgetting.
“There is nothing but you and I,” his head lifted and his eyes pinned mine like butterflies on a board. “You thought you could escape me, that you could defeat me, but there is no defeating death, and there is no escape from me.”
“You’re not death, you’re an Atlantean,” I struggled to build some kind of wall between us. “You’re a thief, stealing worship and power. Can’t you see that’s how Atlantis was destroyed in the first place? It was too much power for one race to wield.”
“It was one small group of Atlanteans who made the mistake that destroyed my home,” his eyes narrowed. “Those of us who survived, suffered for it and we adapted, found new homes and new people, but this is all distant past. Now we are gods and you are a human who dares to hunt us.”
“Only those of you who use humans as disposable batteries.”
“I don’t use your kind,” he brushed back my long, dark hair, sending heat down my neck and across my chest. “I accepted responsibility from them and now I help them into the afterlife. Death is neither good nor evil, yet you chose to fight me. Stop fighting me, Vervain.”
One of his hands came up to rest on my shoulder, his thumb rubbing against my collarbone. He squeezed gently and seemed to radiate an icy chill. It wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact I welcomed it. I wanted it to take me over, to take away all the pain, like it seemed to promise, to make me numb. Wait, were those even my thoughts? My desires?
“No,” I tried again, “I don’t want you. I don’t want to be here.”
“You will,” his lips lifted at the corners. “You’re already mine.”
His mouth was suddenly on mine, as brutal and possessive as his words. I wanted to fight, to deny his hold on me, but my hands wouldn’t move and my tongue was already captured by his. His taste was dizzying, warm and sweet, like drinking spiced cider laced with rum. I felt a rush of fluttering pleasure rise from my core to crawl over my chest, leaving me hot and wet in its wake, and I groaned in response.
Anubis pulled me closer, his calm façade finally cracking as his hands roamed wildly over my body. We were flesh to flesh, my clothing simply gone, and between us he was hard and eager. I finally found the strength to push back but only managed to gain a couple of inches. His head immediately lowered and I felt the wet pleasure of his mouth close over my neck.
I sighed as tingles shot through me again and felt my knees give way. He caught me easily, my lower body molding to his, as he continued to lick and bite his way down to my breast. When he reached his destination, I cried out and he gave an answering growl. My hands slid up to hold him closer, only it wasn’t hair that they slid through, it was fur.
My eyes shot open in shock and I fought with all the strength my sudden panic gave me. It was enough. I broke through his hold and landed hard on my ass. I scooted back but he followed, coming to stand over me like an avenging angel… or an enraged god.
Staring down at me was the head of a jackal, pointed ears and long muzzle, all covered in sleek black fur that flowed down to disappear into his gilded chest. His mouth opened, sharp canine teeth glinting as he spoke.
“Remember, Godhunter,” Anubis’ rich voice came out of the jackal’s mouth. “Remember who you belong to and who you’ll learn to serve for eternity.”
I screamed, sitting up to push him away from me, and warm hands gripped my arms. Struggling, I flailed out desperately and they tightened, pushing me down until his body covered mine and held me in place.
“Vervain,” his voice had changed, it was warmer and deeper. “Vervain, wake up.”
I opened my eyes to find Trevor above me, my beautiful werewolf lover. His long, dark curls fell around his face and his golden eyes were glowing in the darkness. I gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed back in the bed, realizing it had all been a dream. A horrible, d
isgusting dream.
“Are you alright, Minn Elska?” The cherished endearment soothed my raw nerves even more and I pulled him to me, feeling his heart start to slow down with mine.
“I’m fine, Honey-Eyes,” I whispered. “Thanks for waking me. I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“No, I'm okay,” he pulled back so he could look me over. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“It was just a nightmare,” I gave him my best effort at a smile. His eyes told me that I failed miserably.
“That’s the fourth one this week,” he sat back on his haunches.
“Come back here,” I pulled on his hand till he laid back down beside me and wrapped me up against his chest. I slid my hands over his hot skin, cuddling up to his warmth as I swung my hair over my shoulder. “It’s nothing, my body’s just trying to relax after all the stress.”
“Balder’s dead, you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he looked down at me, his strong features softening with concern.
“I know but there’s still Demeter on the loose.”
“Persephone took care of her,” his perfect lips spread in a smile.
“Demeter's still alive, which means she still wants me dead. I return the sentiment of course but I can't help feeling like I've failed my lions. We should have found her by now. Then there’s Ares, who’s still mad about me killing Aphrodite and taking her power, no matter that she was trying to kill me at the time. And we can't forget Blue with his stalking vampire groupies following me around for who knows what purpose. I wish he could just forgive me for believing he was behind all that nonsense in Arizona.”
“Poor misunderstood Godhunter,” Trevor nestled his face into the side of my neck, where his latest set of bite marks had yet to heal.
While he was occupied, my hand crept up to my other shoulder, where I’d received my latest scar, a knife wound from Anubis, the Egyptian God of the Dead. Teharon had healed it for me but a scar had remained, which was odd, the Mohawk god was the best at what he did and had never left me scarred before. He had shrugged it off though, saying there might have been magic in the blade that had prevented a full healing but that I'd be fine. I'd nodded and hoped he was right but deep inside, I knew something was off because what I hadn’t told Teharon or Trevor, or anyone for that matter, was that even though the wound had healed, the cold from the blade remained. Anubis had literally given me the cold shoulder and now the cold was spreading.
I’d gotten used to being marked by men. First Blue(aka Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec God of War and Sun, oh and also the Father of Vampires), then Thor(if you don't know who Thor is, you're an idiot), and then Trevor(Firstborn of Fenrir, the Viking Wolf God and Father of the Froekn/werewolves). Now I’d been marked again, this time by Death himself(or at least someone who thought he was Death himself), and I was going to have to do something about it soon. I just wasn’t sure what.
“Vervain?” Trevor drew my wandering attention back to him. “You seemed really far off for a moment.”
“Sorry, baby,” I yawned, “I’m just tired.”
“Go to sleep then, Minn Elska,” he kissed my forehead and wrapped the blankets tighter around us. The whirr of the air conditioner tried its best to lull me back to dreamland but I knew who was waiting for me there. I remembered the feel of his hands on me, squeezing my shoulder where his knife had struck.
A pulse of cold seeped out an inch further, creeping over my collarbone as my body started to tremble.
Chapter Two
“Vake up,” an insistent knocking accompanied the voice coming from the other side of my bedroom door. “I’ve made breakfast and Intare vill be vaiting, Tima.”
“Arrgh,” I rolled onto Trevor’s stomach. “Whose idea was it to let Kirill move in?”
“I believe he followed you home, Tima,” Trevor mocked my Intare title.
“Kirill,” I groaned and burrowed deeper into my Wolf Prince, “Bad kitty, go away.”
“Tima, men vill be very disappointed if you’re late.” Kirill’s Russian accent was normally sexy but when I was tired, it became just plain annoying.
“Fine,” I sighed and sat up, noticing that Trevor was wide awake and looking chipper. “Sometimes I really hate your werewolf resilience.”
“It has its perks,” he shrugged.
I stumbled into the bathroom to wash my face and do all the other things that must be done in the morning. Then I yanked on a little pink camisole and a layered wraparound skirt. I smiled a little at the swirl of paisleys in the hues of pink silk. Flowing silk always made me feel so feminine, like I could sing a stupid song about feeling oh so pretty. Okay, maybe some coffee before the singing. Or maybe just coffee. Singing is not one of my talents.
I pulled my hip-length, dark, wavy hair back and knotted it at my nape, as I stumbled down the hall toward the scent of coffee and hamburger. A smile spread across my face and my stomach rumbled as I realized what Kirill had prepared.
“Loco Mocos?” I beamed at him, as I took a seat at the carved Chinese table in my Asian-themed dining room.
“Your favorite,” he smiled and placed a big bowl in front of me, along with a delicate teacup filled with coffee.
“Yum,” I sighed as Trevor slid into place beside me with his own bowl.
“I have to admit,” he shook his head, “I thought this was the most disgusting thing to eat for breakfast until you made me take a bite. Now I don’t think I could live without it.”
“Well you know me,” I grinned and poured cream into my coffee, “I love gravy, smother something in gravy and I’ll eat it up.”
“Smother something in gravy, eh?” Trevor leered over at me.
“Hmmm,” I thought over the possibilities, “nope, too messy.”
“You two are perverts,” Kirill shook his head and dug into his bowl.
“Life is so much sweeter when you’re pervy,” I cut up the over-medium egg, spilling the bright yellow yolk over the hamburger patty and grilled onions before scooping up some rice and gravy to go with it. “We need to get you a girlfriend. Maybe then you’ll be more inclined to join the pervert club.”
“No time for vomen,” Kirill put on his serious face. “As Ganza, I must be constantly on guard.”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Trevor pounded the werelion good-naturedly on the shoulder. “She’s my top priority too. You can take a break once in awhile.”
Kirill looked at Trevor like he’d just sprouted a beanstalk out of his nose.
“Zere is no break for Ganza,” he gave Trevor a glare for good measure before returning to his food.
Trevor rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders at me. “I give up, beautiful. You’re gonna have to pull that stick out of his ass because I can’t reach it. It’s so far up there, I’m surprised he isn’t spitting splinters.”
I nearly choked on my Hawaiian-style breakfast. Kirill just sent Trevor another glare. He pushed his thick, black braid over his shoulder in a dismissive motion. It fell with a solid thunk against the back of his chair, dangling past his butt, and I smiled at the almost feminine gesture which on him was somehow distinctly masculine.
Kirill had the most beautiful hair I’d ever seen and I loved seeing it unbound, which it normally was, but I’d got him in the habit of braiding it before bed, so it wouldn’t tangle hopelessly by morning, and sometimes he forgot to undo it. He was simply too focused on other things… like protecting me.
“I didn’t think you'd want me anywhere near his gorgeous ass,” I raised an eyebrow at Trevor.
“Good point,” he nodded seriously. “Stay away from it. We’ll get him a proctologist.”
“No one is going anyvhere near my ass,” Kirill cut in sharply. “And I zank you both to stop vith ze talking about it.”
Chapter Three
We traced into my werelion palace and found the Pride ready and waiting. They greeted us all warmly, even Trevor who was accepted as my mate. Now that they were allowed to sleep with other women, the lions couldn
’t care less who I slept with, as long as he made me happy and boy did Trevor fulfill that requirement.
They were grilling again, a favorite cooking method for the Intare, and we were escorted swiftly through the winding corridors of the African-influenced palace to a tent erected outside. It was all technically mine now that I'd taken Nyavirezi's magic, along with the lions I now led, but I had yet to move in full time. I like my place in Hawaii and besides, cell phone reception was atrocious on this side of the Aether. I still couldn't figure out how we got cable and internet. If I hadn't killed Nyavirezi, I could have asked her. Oh well, I was okay with the mystery as long as she stayed dead.
Large blankets were spread out beneath the white tent, strewn with enormous pillows, bowls of fruit, and board games… yes, board games. The Intare had been isolated for so long, they’d found ways to entertain themselves, and that included lots of different games. So every get together we had involved food and competition, a fact which didn’t bother me at all.
I sat near a chess board, Kirill and Trevor sitting on my left and right respectively. Around us the rest of the Intare settled, content that I was near to take care of any disputes and offer guidance as needed. Darius, Fallon, and Aidan came over with some plates of food while Samantha took up the rear with an armful of soda.
“Samantha,” I waved a hello to the Froekn woman.
She’d been dating Fallon, who I thought looked so much like LL Cool J that I almost told him how much I enjoyed his work on Deep Blue Sea when I’d first met him. Except Fallon had hazel eyes, eat your heart out, LL.
I was concerned about the relationship between a werewolf and a werelion but who was I to judge? I was the Werelioness and my mate was the Werewolf Prince. I was pretty much doing the same thing, even though I was technically a human. So I decided to keep my nose out of it and wish them the best. So far they both seemed happy.
