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Marked by Death (The Godhunter, Book 4)

Page 11

by Sumida, Amy


  “Self hatred?” He didn’t seem like a man who had confidence issues.

  “How many years could you do what he does and still love yourself?” She searched my eyes so deeply, I had to look away. “Think of what judging souls, sending worthy souls through a perilous journey to Aaru and giving unworthy souls to the jaws of Ammut, would do to a kind man. We offer no sanctuary here, even the worthy must face horror through us. As the Goddess of Justice, I understand. I know that the journey is to prove the soul worthy of Aaru, that only the brightest and bravest shall go on, but even I have moments of doubt. Anubis has lost himself in what he became in order to survive.”

  I thought about it. Centuries of giving souls to monsters, even the “worthy” ones. What would it do to me? Would I turn cruel, bitter? Probably. I’d definitely hate myself and maybe even the people who came up with this stupid idea in the first place. I smiled a little, realizing humans were responsible for a lot of their own misery.

  “You smile,” Ma’at looked hopeful.

  “I’ll try,” two words that I was sure were going to get me into heaps of trouble.

  The rest of the day I spent learning my way around the Underworld’s palace. Ma’at showed me the library, the path to which I memorized immediately. The library, in my view, is the heart of a home. All kinds of information is stored there, not just what’s written on pages either. You can find out a lot about a person by what books they own and you can discover even more about a god. A god’s library is a treasure trove for a witch and I planned to spend every minute I could around Anubis’ treasure.

  When Ma’at finally succeeded in pulling me away from the books, we strolled through the numerous rooms while she hinted that any woman who married Anubis would rule it all. Big whoop, lots of werejackals, a huge palace where the dead were judged, and a walled-in garden. Oh, and don’t forget the maze, yippee, everything I ever wanted… not. I already had my own palace, thank you, I didn't need the Palace of Death and the Garden of Doom.

  But I didn’t blame Ma’at. Anubis was probably a pill to live with and I got the feeling Ma’at had to hide any lovers she had, for fear of making things worse. It couldn’t be fun. So I tried to be as upbeat as possible around her, and in her defense, she was an enjoyable hostess. I could almost forget I was a prisoner… except for the whole chain thing.

  “Ma’at. Miw-sher,” oh crap, he found us. Anubis took a seat at the wrought iron table where Ma’at and I were enjoying some afternoon tea.

  “Anubis,” Ma’at inclined her head and gestured to the servant at the tea cart behind her.

  He poured another cup, filled a plate and set it before Anubis. I cast Anubis a quick look, heat rising up my cheeks as the previous night replayed in my head. The cup in my hand started to slosh, so I put it down and set my attention to the garden. We were out on the wide patio that overlooked the manicured gardens, so I had a great view of the whole shebang.

  A hand at my chin pulled my gaze back and I found Anubis staring hard at my lip. I knew how it looked, black and blue and a little swollen. It wasn’t pretty and I hoped it annoyed him to have to look at it. His fingertip brushed my bruised skin and his face wrinkled in what looked an awful lot like remorse.

  “It looks worse today,” he whispered.

  “Yes, it does,” there was a strong note of disapproval in Ma’at’s voice.

  “Stay out of this,” he snarled suddenly and she raised one elegant brow. He sighed, “I apologize, you’re right. Miw-sher, I shouldn’t have hit you…”

  “Don’t,” I said and swallowed hard. I wanted to do as Ma’at asked but part of me screamed: This is your captor, your rapist! “In the scheme of things this is nothing. You’ve made your point, I know my place and all that. I appreciate you allowing me to sit in a chair, that’s enough of an apology, I’m sure.” I handed him the end of the chain.

  He took it with a slack jaw and wounded eyes. Then he blinked, took a breath, and clipped the chain to his belt. I clenched my teeth and looked away. What did I expect? Ma’at gave us both concerned eyes and I hated her for just a second. She wanted me to love this monster? I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I needed to be more rational if I wanted a chance of escaping.

  “As you like, Miw-sher,” his voice stroked me, inside and out. “And yes, you may sit at the table from now on, instead of my feet, if that was your way of asking me.”

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw his eyes out. I wanted to tell him he could shove his chair right up his ass. I smiled and sipped my tea.

  “Vervain is a great lover of literature,” Ma’at interjected into the silence.

  “Are you?” He looked at me like I was some new and fascinating kind of bug.

  “What, just because I can kick your ass, you don’t think I can read?” I almost groaned aloud, it was so not the time to push my luck.

  But he laughed, loud and startling; especially to me, Ma’at, and every bird in the vicinity, who all took flight at the sound. Ma’at gave me a wide eyed smile, then turned it into an affectionate one for Anubis.

  “I love your laugh,” she said gently and when he looked back at her, his eyes held just as much affection. Why didn’t she give him some lovin’? She obviously had a tender spot for him.

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve heard it,” his smile turned sad. “I’m sorry I’ve lost my humor.”

  “I’m sorry you had to kidnap a woman to find it,” I griped and he turned back to me with another surprised bark of laughter. “That really wasn’t meant to be funny.” Part of me preferred his anger.

  “I choose to take it as such,” he leaned in and pulled the chain, till I leaned as well. “It would be wise of you to encourage my good humor, instead of trying to spoil it.”

  “Right, jokes at my expense: good, Anubis angry: bad, got it,” I narrowed my eyes as he started to smile again.

  “You learn quick, Miw-sher.”

  Through some amazing act of will, I managed to keep my mouth mostly shut through the rest of tea. Ma’at kept sending me worried glances and Anubis just straight out stared at me but I kept my eyes on the gardens and only spoke when they asked me a direct question. I know it was a little childish but I didn’t trust myself to keep a civil tongue. My tongue was feeling pretty vicious at the moment.

  So when we were done and Anubis took my arm, I let him lead me back inside and through the corridors to his room. My heart sank as I saw our destination. Wasn’t once a day enough for him? I again clamped my mouth shut on some snarky comment I was dying to make and just waited patiently for him in the center of the room, while he shut and locked the door… never a good sign.

  “Come here,” he was sitting on the bed, patting it lightly with one hand.

  I took a deep breath and went to sit demurely beside him, hands in my lap, eyes on my hands. What the hell was I turning into? I felt like a damn Stepford wife.

  I saw him pick something up from the bedside table, in my peripheral vision, and I was surprised enough to turn to him. He was holding a bowl with some kind of paste and a brush in it.

  “It’s for your bruise,” he waved the brush towards my face and I looked up at him in shock. “It’ll help the swelling and discomfort. May I?”

  I nodded mutely and he began gently applying the salve. It was cool and tingled but in a few moments it started to sink into my skin and relieve the pain. My lip stopped throbbing and I could actually move it without feeling like I was going to split it open all over again.

  “How’s that?” He put the bowl down and looked me over.

  “Much better,” I reached up and touched the spot he’d ministered to and found only a thin coating left. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he stroked my hair back from my face and placed a chaste kiss on my unhurt cheek. “I am sorry, Miw-sher. No matter what you say, I need to apologize to you. I normally have better control than that but with you, I find myself reacting passionately… violently. You don’t deserve such harsh treatment a
nd I want to make it up to you.”

  He stood up and alarm bells started ringing in my head. Now what? When he held a hand out to me, I took it but instead of just helping me to my feet, he picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. I almost didn’t recognize the place. He must have sent his little werejackals scurrying about to accomplish such a transformation.

  The bathroom was filled with candles and flowers, the heat from the former causing the later to release more of its scent, so that a heady perfume hung in the air like a separate entity. Candlelight turned everything golden, including the petal strewn water in the large bathtub, making the room look romantic and mystical. A selection of oils, cloths, and toiletries were set up on a little table to one side, next to a cart holding an ice bucket with champagne and a plate of strawberries.

  He put me down as I took it all in, disrobing before I even realized what he was about. When I looked back at him, he was nude and magnificent in the candlelight. I sucked in my breath and he smiled, reaching to remove my dress. I caught his hands automatically and he paused to hold mine and smile reassuringly.

  “I'm just going to bathe you,” he kissed one hand and then the other. “I want to show you that I can make you feel pleasure outside of sex, that there’s more to me… to us.”

  Anubis was romancing me? The thought made my mouth go slack in shock and he used the opportunity to undress me. I swallowed hard, my head filled with the scent of white roses, as he scooped me up and placed me carefully in the warm water. I sighed as the temperature eased my tight muscles and he smiled as he climbed in behind me.

  “Wet you hair for me, Miw-sher,” he pulled it together and I obediently dipped my head back into the water.

  Then he had his hands in my hair, rubbing shampoo into the long strands and kneading my scalp till I slid back against him. He propped me up easily, as he continued to clean and massage, then he nudged me back and supported my neck as he rinsed my hair. It was heaven. Death had sent me to Heaven, go figure.

  When he was done, he piled all of my hair on top of my head and pulled me back against him. I laid my head on his shoulder, half floating in the water, as he began to stroke me soothingly. A glass of champagne found its way to my hand and I sipped it dreamily before a strawberry was placed at my lips.

  “Thank you,” I snuggled back against his chest, completely forgetting all the horrible things he’d done to me. I sat up suddenly and looked back at him. “Oh, you’re good.”

  “Thank you,” he reached out and picked up another strawberry. I scooted a little back as he offered it to me and he frowned. “Miw-sher, please forgive me and let me make it up to you.”

  “Oh, you’re really good,” I smirked. “I bet you say that to all the girls you kidnap, humiliate, and torture.”

  He sighed heavily and popped the strawberry into his own mouth. “You can enjoy this on your own or I can make you enjoy it. Wouldn’t you rather I left you with your free will?”

  “I thought this was about making things up to me?” I stood, water sluicing off my body, and put my glass down on the cart. “I think I’ve had enough of your apology.”

  He stood as well and blocked my way from the tub. Before I could say anything, he bent over to pick up a glass bottle and cloth from the table. I stared at the sweet lines of his body, okay I was staring at his ass. I admit it. He had a great ass. And abs. His skin practically glowed golden in the candlelight, all slick with water. His body was as chiseled as his face, long and lean, without a single imperfection.

  When he stood back up, he gave me a knowing smile, the egotistical bastard. He dipped the cloth in the tub and poured some of the bottle’s contents over it, lathering it up a bit before setting it to my skin. It felt so good, that soapy cloth sliding over me, that I just stood there and let him do it.

  He lathered me till I looked like a Calgon commercial, then dropped the cloth and started massaging the bubbles in. His strong hands kneaded my shoulders before sliding over my back, pushing me against him, so that he could hold me upright while he worked out my kinks. I gave up, sighed, and leaned into him.

  My face nestled perfectly into his neck, and the scent of him rushed over me. Incense and magic, that's what he smelled like. The strong cords of his neck were pressed to my lips and I seemed to be having trouble breathing. I was gasping, breathing hard against his skin. He shivered, and I couldn't think anymore. I had to taste him. My tongue flicked out and licked the line of tendon before me. His erection jerked against my belly.

  Then he was rubbing my bottom, kneading and sliding around to my belly where he tenderly stroked me in soothing circles, till he made his way up to my breasts. A hand on each of them, he rubbed in to their centers, finishing with a light twirl on my nipples that left me groaning.

  Instead of taking advantage of the situation, he knelt in the water so he could massage both of my legs, before pulling me down to him. He rinsed me carefully, reclaimed my champagne glass, stuck it in my hand, and pulled me back against his chest where we’d started. Hadn’t I been meaning to do something… like leave?

  His hands were everywhere, stroking and kneading again, and I let go of my issues as I gave in to the pleasure. I felt his lips at my neck and inhaled sharply as he first kissed and then bit me. I was a sucker for a little teeth but of course he knew that already. While I was reeling from his kiss, his hands worked their way down between my legs. I felt my thighs part as his fingers spread me and started to work delight over my center.

  I threw back my head and groaned. I could feel his lips stretch into a smile against my neck before he raised them to my face, kissing his way across my chin until I turned my face to his and gave him my mouth. In moments, he was bringing me to ecstasy and I was screaming my release into him as he lapped at me and drank it down.

  “Now I know why,” I sighed as I came down from my high.

  “Why what, Miw-sher?” He nuzzled into my neck again.

  “Why abused women stay with their abusers.”

  He clucked his tongue. “I’m not your abuser, I’m your god, and you have no choice in the matter. Just accept the pleasure I give you as preferable to the pain, and things will be so much easier for you.”

  “Was that a threat?” I lifted my head to look at him in disbelief. “You make me come, then threaten me? Good job on the apology there, dog boy, and good job on showing me the non-sexual side of our relationship.” I started to get up but he pulled me back down.

  “The apology was genuine but it doesn’t change the facts,” he stroked a hand over my forehead and I felt my body go limp with his control. “You’re mine to do with as I please and now I want to fuck you. I can’t help it if everything with you leads to sex.”

  I felt my heart race as he carried me from the tub, water splashing everywhere and extinguishing candles with little hissing sounds. He turned me around and bent me over the sink, holding one hand on my back as he grabbed a bottle from the table and poured it over me. The oil sluiced down, releasing the scent of almonds to tease my nose, and he rubbed it down my back, over my ass, and between my legs. It felt wickedly good, good enough to distract me from my anger.

  The wet sound of him stroking oil over himself sent shivers along my skin. A second later, he slid into me, slick as a snake, and groaned as our bodies rubbed sensuously together. I held back my own groan but just barely.

  I clung to the counter as he pounded faster into me, trying to deny the pleasure building until he finally grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, so he could see my eyes in the mirror. He stared at me with naked possession, as his oiled flesh clenched and glistened, sending me crashing into another orgasm. My thighs were being driven into the counter and I had to eventually brace myself by holding onto the faucet, but it was good. It felt so wonderful to be taken by all that strength and feel his orgasm pulse through him and into me… wonderful and humiliating.

  He slid out slowly and I lowered my face to my arms and began to cry. I didn’t make a sound but I knew he knew a
nd I was even more embarrassed. He slid his hand down my oiled back, over my ass, and between my legs, cupping me possessively before leaving me there alone.

  Some apology, huh?

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stuck my head around the corner and peered cautiously down the hallway. It was empty, blessedly empty. I let out the breath I’d been holding and hurried down it. I was usually being watched by someone, be it Ma’at, a werejackal, or Anubis himself, so I had to take my solitude where and when I could find it.

  Anubis made it clear that I couldn’t escape the Underworld but that didn’t stop him from stalking me like a wounded animal through the corridors of his palace…. which I discovered were more numerous than I’d initially thought. I started keeping to the two main hallways after I got lost down one of them and found by one of Anubis’ jackal servants. Being prodded down the hallway by sharp nails and even sharper eyes was not an experience I wanted to repeat.

  Anubis had continued with a constant seesaw of moods from the night of his “apology”. Every time he showed some gentleness to me, he’d pull back immediately afterward, as if he was fighting himself, his own reactions, and I was just the fulcrum he shifted upon.

  Ma’at said he was falling in love with me and trying his best to deny it. She said love made men behave strangely and I should take comfort in Anubis’ unusual conduct. Well maybe I was winning this battle but I was feeling worn out from the skirmishes and what I really needed was some R&R. Trying to figure out Anubis was exhausting.

  I never knew which way his mood would go, just that it would be extreme, and so I tried to avoid him. But as much as he often pretended indifference to me, everyday he found more excuses to track me down and torment me. If it wasn’t sex, it was some other form of humiliation. I was convinced he sat around thinking up ways to torture me and as soon as he came up with a new one, he’d leap up and find me, like a scientist trying out a new theory.

 

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