Marked by Death (The Godhunter, Book 4)

by Sumida, Amy

  The meticulously trimmed hedges were interspersed with blooming flower beds and the scent of roses was thick, mixing with jasmine and lilacs. There was a tall stone wall defining the large patch of land, the length of which disappeared down the sides of the palace, where smaller gardens reached like a lover's embrace. The wall was topped with lacy iron work, so I was unable to see exactly how far Anubis’ land extended. I was a little disappointed by that but it was the only thing disappointing about the garden.

  We walked slowly, enjoying the sights and scents as well as the warmth of the sun directly overhead. At the end of the manicured square, steps led down into yet another garden and beyond that was a hedge maze. In front of the entrance to the maze was a gazing pool, in the center of which was a statue of a peacock in white marble. The head was held high and regal, the tail feathers relaxed and flowing down into the pool. The water in the pool was mottled with sunlight and the shade of overhanging pomegranate trees.

  “A peacock,” I let go of his arm to move forward and when I reached the end of the chain, I pulled on it to urge him forward as well.

  He looked down at the taut chain between us, a small frown marring his forehead before it smoothed away, and then he came forward to stand beside me. I felt the weight of what I’d done unconsciously and knew immediately why his coming to me had been momentous. As a witch, I should have realized it sooner, for as you bind, so are you bound.

  The tether worked both ways.

  “Why a peacock?” I kept my voice light, so I wouldn’t betray the world of possibilities that had just been exposed to me. The symbolism of the chain tying him to me, as much as me to him, was mind blowing but more important was the question of who would be holding the end of power when this game played out.

  “The Chinese believe the peacock represents divinity, power, and beauty.” He focused on the statue but I sensed his attention was actually on me.

  “They’re also the symbol of fidelity,” I pretended to study the statue as well but I was really judging his reaction out of the corner of my eye. “Did you know they mate for life… just like wolves?”

  “Really?” His voice said cool interest but his body tensed.

  “Yes,” it suddenly occurred to me that I wouldn’t get a better opportunity than this. “If their mate dies, or is otherwise lost to them, they either never mate again or they die of a broken heart.”

  “Not like wolves,” he turned to face me and when I turned to him, I found his eyes swirling with colors… all of them.

  “No,” I spoke softly, like any loud noise might spook him. “Not like wolves… like werewolves.”

  “Just say it, Vervain,” his lips thinned and a muscle twitched in his jaw.

  “You know what I’m saying,” I lost all pretense. “Trevor will die if you keep me here. Maybe that will suit you just fine but I don’t think so. You wanted to punish me because you found it offensive that I, as a human, would presume to fight gods but Trevor is one of you, and killing him outside of a fair fight, is just not your style. You have more honor than that.”

  “Is that what you believe?”

  “It’s what I saw,” I backed up a little from the anger that was falling off him in droves, “when I looked inside you.”

  “Inside me,” he circled and backed me against the side of the pool. “I think you’ve got it backwards, Godhunter. It’s I who shall be inside you, and there’s nothing you or your mate can do to stop it.”

  Before I could appeal to the honor I knew was there, he yanked me against him and covered my mouth with his. There was no passion, no flutterings of desire to distract me. His kiss was almost painful, all punishing pressure and savage teeth. When he finally pulled away, I felt bruised, bereft, and there was the slight tang of blood in my mouth.

  “Make your peace with your old life,” he growled. “You’re not going back. If I tire of you, Ares can have you.”

  I sucked in a shocked breath, screaming inside over the thought of being handed off to Ares. If the God of War was anything like his lover, I’d never survive. Panic turned my limbs to water and I would have dropped if Anubis hadn’t been holding me. I stared hard at his chest, rising and falling with his rapid breaths, and pulled myself together.

  “I apologize for believing you had any honor,” I finally found the nerve to raise my eyes to his. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  He blinked, the colors freezing over his eyes a second before they started to spin violently. The slap came quick as a snake, a backhanded swipe that landed me at his feet. I stared at the crimson drops falling from my lips and landing on the bright green grass. It was beautiful, in a Jackson Pollock kind of way.

  Anubis crouched down, his hand coming to my chin and lifting my face. “If you were a man, you’d already be dead. Your sex and the honor that you accuse me of being without, just saved your life.”

  He stood up and turned to leave but stopped when I started to laugh.

  “If I were a man,” I stood up and licked at my lip, “I wouldn’t be here at all, and my sex would hold no interest for you.”

  “It doesn’t, regardless,” he gave me a derisive look over his shoulder. “I bed you as a form of dominance, not because of any desire I feel for you.”

  Why did his words tear at me? Why did it feel like more of a blow than the one he just delivered to my face? Why did I care if he wanted me or not? Pull yourself together, Godhunter! I took a deep breath and lifted my chin.

  “Must be why you’re so bad at it.”

  He froze and I almost started laughing again. I didn’t even feel fear as he turned and settled his oil slick eyes on me. In that moment, I couldn’t care less what he did to me. I’d grin my way to the grave. I was a prisoner, my own body turned against me, my life was gone as well as my pride, but I’d have the last word, damn it.

  He didn’t hit me again. He didn’t even yell or rage. All he said were three words, “Tonight you’ll beg.” Then he was gone.

  Guess I wouldn’t get the last word either.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I peered at my reflection, prodding my slightly swollen lip. There was a small cut on the inside, where my teeth had served nicely to split it open, and I’d probably have some light bruising. Attractive, very attractive. Part of me was proud of it though. I'd finally managed to fight back, even if it was just verbally. If that was what was left to me, then so be it, verbal sparring it was… and the gloves were off.

  The sound of the bedroom door startled me and I felt a shivering creep through my limbs. No, I wasn’t afraid of him. What could he possibly do to me that hadn’t already been done? He said he’d make me beg. So what? He could force my body to obey him but he couldn’t force me to beg. No matter what happened, I wouldn’t beg.

  I heard him shuffling about and knew I couldn’t cower in the bathroom all night, it’d be almost as bad as begging. So I squared my shoulders and opened the door. All but two candles were extinguished; one on each side of the bed, and the soft glow caressed his naked body with anxious hands. He smiled slowly, grimly.

  I met his eyes deliberately and then let my gaze rake him from head to foot. I just as deliberately thought of Trevor and how Anubis fell short… way short. When my eyes came back to rest on his, he was practically snarling. I ignored him and walked casually to the foot of the bed, where the wolf pelt still laid discarded from the previous night.

  I picked it up and frowned. How had I wound up in bed that morning? The last thing I remembered was curling up on the floor with the pelt. Had Anubis carried me to bed after I’d fallen asleep? Did he know I cried into the fur until I was exhausted enough to pass out? I hoped not, it would just be one more added humiliation.

  A hand pulled the pelt away from me and tossed it in a corner. He’d snuck up on me while I was musing, sloppy of me… very sloppy. I raised my face to his as he slid an arm around my waist and lifted me off the floor. I didn’t fight him. What would be the point? I just went limp and let him take the full wei
ght of me. He raised a brow but didn’t say anything till he’d thrown me on the bed.

  “Remove your dress.”

  I did it calmly, pulling it over my head and dropping it over the edge of the bed. The chain draped over my shoulder like a braid when I lay back down and I idly stroked the links. His eyes feasted on me, head to toe, and I felt a twisted surge of satisfaction that he did want me. It wasn’t just about vengeance or dominance. The bastard could say what he liked but he wanted me… and I didn’t want him. What better weapon could I have on a night he’d threatened to make me beg?

  He was starting to look confused at my acquiescence. He hadn’t had to use his will on me once. I could see the suspicion creep into his eyes as he crawled over to me. He grabbed my chin and turned my face so he could see the swelling on my lip and I watched that suspicion turn to anger… and then concern.

  His touch softened and he stroked the side of my face, as if we truly were lovers and he was upset over my pain. Then his hand ghosted over my neck, my collar, my breasts whose traitorous nipples hardened even though I was thinking dark thoughts. I kept my eyes on the bathroom door across from me and tried to ignore the sensations.

  “Are you in any pain?”

  I looked over at him in surprise. “What do you care?”

  “I don’t,” he replied as he leaned casually on one elbow and trailed his fingers lower.

  I tried to hold still but it was so strange to have him lying there, looking at me as he stroked me like an experiment. Hmmmm….. if I touch her here she makes this sound. His face had become so clinical, like a demented Dr. Love, that I shifted accidentally. His gaze went back to mine and I immediately felt his power blaze through me.

  My strength left, all my limbs going limp. I barely held my whimper in. The hardest thing for me to deal with, was not having control over my own body. It was probably akin to being a paraplegic, except with an added dollop of possession thrown in. He made me a living marionette and boy did he love to pull my strings.

  “Come here,” he had rolled onto his back beside me and I tried to keep my limbs slack but that just seemed to help him control me.

  I ended up straddling his face, pressing my hands into the gilded wall for balance, and feeling a mortified blush creeping over my chest. He laughed, his breath hot and intimate on my flesh as his eyes stared up the line of my exposed body. Strong arms wrapped around my legs and pulled me down, till his mouth was filled with me.

  I moaned.

  I couldn’t help it. The overwhelming sensation of his tongue licking, as his lips fed, and his face rocked against me, was just too much. Then his hands released my legs and took hold of my breasts. I rocked my hips against him as I pressed my chest harder into his hands. It wasn’t until much later, that I realized he’d given me back control of my body.

  He brought me over and over like that, till my body was shaking with exhaustion and his face was wet. After each orgasm, he’d ask me if I’d like him to fuck me and I couldn’t stop myself from saying yes, but then he’d tell me to beg and I’d find enough sanity to say no. So he’d continue mercilessly.

  I knew his cock was twitching with need but he didn’t even touch himself as he continued to lick me over the edge of sanity. I cried and thrashed, aching for completeness but too stubborn to beg for it. My legs finally gave out and I sat on his chest, then lay back across him, my face coming to rest beside his pulsing flesh. I grabbed at it, turning my head and getting as much of it into my mouth as I could but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

  Anubis groaned beneath me, clamping his hands around my thighs as I turned over, so I could ride his mouth and comfortably go down on him. He raised his hips up to give me more access, his control finally as shattered as mine. I took in that extra inch, sucking and biting till he gave a ferocious cry and pushed me onto my knees. He was in me in two seconds flat, pumping furiously, so that the sounds of our hips slapping together competed with the sounds of our labored breathing.

  I felt myself slip from human to animal, pushing back to meet his thrusts with a savage intensity. There were sounds coming out of me that I knew I'd regret later, and he was making versions of his own above me. Eager hands slipped from my waist to my swinging breasts and pushed me over the edge screaming. Finally, finally!

  Anubis howled and spasmed, holding me tight as he came violently, and then fell over me, completely spent. The last thing I remember before I passed out, was him pulling me under the covers and curling around me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Godhunter?” Ma’at’s voice pulled me out of sleep.

  My eyes focused first on the neat coil of golden chain resting on the pillow next to me, before moving up to the goddess. She was dressed in a flowing blue dress, which set off her skin and hair. I took a quick glance at my rumpled self, sheet clad, mussed hair, probably circles under my eyes, oh and let’s not forget my swollen, and most likely, bruised lip. It was feeling a little better, which was almost ridiculous after the night I’d been through but hey, I’d take what I could get.

  “Hey Ma’at,” I waved a little forlornly from the middle of the messy bed. “What’s up?” Then I giggled and did my best Bugs Bunny impersonation, “What’s up, Ma’at?” I giggled some more but of course she didn’t get the joke.

  She gave me a curious smile and sat on the edge of the bed. “Anubis asked me to show you around today,” she touched the chain. “Did you do this?”

  “Nope,” I glanced down at it again.

  “Hmmm,” she tapped it with a finger before scooping it up and handing it to me. “He said he left a trunk of clothes for you,” she made a regal sweep with her hand and indicated a large trunk against the wall. “Why don’t you get ready and I’ll have some breakfast brought in.” She went to the door to call for one of the jackals.

  I went to root through the trunk, chain wrapped around an arm so it wouldn’t pull at my neck. It was filled with clothes I’d normally only wear to the theater… live theater. In fact, most of the dresses were nicer than the Versace I’d worn to see Phantom of the Opera. I’d have been thrilled but under the circumstances… not so much. I was only vaguely surprised, considering the gold dress of the day before.

  So I pulled out a green number with long sleeves and a train, it covered the most, even though the neckline wasn’t exactly what you’d call modest. There was actually an assortment of underwear too, and go figure, the God of the Dead liked La Perla. Oddly enough, the dresses didn’t have any tags. I guess his personal seamstress drew the line at modern undergarments. I grabbed the clothes and went to freshen up in the bathroom.

  When I returned, Ma’at was seated at the dining set with a full breakfast laid out. My stomach rumbled as I sat down and she smiled. Of course her plate had dainty amounts of everything, piled neatly, which she started eating delicately, almost geisha-like. I shook my head and filled my plate, filled my coffee cup, and filled my mouth with no amount of delicacy involved.

  “You angered him yesterday?” Ma’at barely looked up from her properly arranged plate.

  “You could say that,” I snorted. Boy, were she and I a pair, the lady and the tramp. Okay, enough with the ego downer.

  “Did he make love to you last night?”

  I nearly spewed sausage all over her. “Um, I don’t think you can call what he does to me, making love but if you must know, then yes.”

  “And then he leaves you with the sign of your captivity coiled on the pillow like an asp,” she took a little sip of her tea as she frowned.

  “Nice analogy,” I looked at the chain I’d laid in my lap, “an asp, great. I didn’t realize it was a threat.”

  “I don’t think it was a threat per se,” she tapped one perfect fingernail against her teacup. “I think he’s beginning to see Thoth’s point of view. He’s seeing you as a potential threat, and he’s trying to distance himself to better understand.”

  “Okay,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Being a threat is good, I wish I could be more of on
e.”

  “We don’t want him to distance himself,” Ma’at met my eyes with her steady dark gaze.

  “Uh, I think I do,” I frowned and took a sip of my coffee. “I think I'd like as much distance from him as possible. In fact, I'd be fine with more of this,” I waved a hand to my bruised lip, “if he'd keep his distance sexually.”

  “How do you plan on getting free, Godhunter?”

  “Call me Vervain please, and I have no idea,” my shoulders slumped. “I really didn’t think it was an option. How do I escape someone who can control me?”

  “Anubis is a good god,” she put her cup down and I saw the concern in her eyes. “I’ve wanted this for him, a woman he could love and who would bring him out of his melancholy. I wanted someone like you, someone strong enough to love him back, but I never wanted it in this fashion. He’s made a relationship with you virtually impossible, at least a real, rewarding relationship. Any love between you now will be twisted, hurting as much as healing.” She shook her head.

  “What do you want from me?” I whispered.

  “I want you to remind him that he doesn’t have to give up love, that he can live, even though he is Death.”

  “And you think he’ll free me then?” My breakfast was getting cold but I was more concerned about the coffee, cold coffee is undrinkable. I took a big swig.

  “I’m hoping he will,” she reached across the table and took my hand. “I know you have a lover who literally needs you but can you find it in your heart to see past Anubis’ cruelty to the real man beneath? Can you try to love him for just a little while? It may be the key to your freedom.”

  “I don’t know,” I thought about the way he backhanded me and my hand went to my lip.

  “He is so angry,” her hand lightly rubbed mine. “I know hitting you was wrong but you’re a warrior and in his mind it was nothing, barely a punishment. For a woman, of course it’s inexcusable, but for the Godhunter?” She shrugged as if the possibility of a man hitting her was ridiculous but for me it was just a part of my job description. “Beneath the gruff, he is warm and caring. He has honor, it’s just shadowed by his self hatred.”