Amy Sumida - Blood Bound (Book 16 in The Godhunter Series)

by Unknown

  “I don't know, V,” he lifted his head. “I hope there are. Just like King Arach, I'd like to have a family someday.”

  “Family is important, I guess,” I swallowed hard.

  “Hey, do you have time for a cup of tea?” He asked hopefully. “You still haven't seen my new house.”

  “You know what, Salem?” I smiled brightly. “I do have time.”

  “You do?” His surprised tone made me feel guilty. I should have made time to come and visit with Salem. He'd been a good friend to me and I knew he was lonely. Especially for other dragons.

  “Lead away,” I waved my hand.

  “Yay!” He stamped a foot in delight and then turned, his long tail swishing out behind him. That animated appendage crushed the lush grass beneath it but this was not your typical turf. The divine grass of Shehaquim simply sprung back into shape in Salem's wake.

  I ran up next to him so he wouldn't knock into me by accident and he led me along the mountain range which bordered Shehaquim. As we walked, the sky darkened ominously and I frowned, remembering what Az had told me once. Beside the entrance to Hell was an evil place he hadn't even wanted me to look at. I'd forgotten all about it. Hell had seemed evil enough. Why would you need yet another area made especially for awful things?

  “Don't mind the angels,” Salem gestured to the left, where the sky was a grim gray, turbulent with rumbling, rolling, wicked-looking clouds.

  Within the charcoal fluff, lighting flashed, illuminating angelic bodies. For a moment, they looked beautiful and majestic; muscles straining and feathered wings whooshing. But then I saw what those beautiful angels were about. I won't go into detail, mainly because I looked away before I could see too much, but they were torturing people. My dragon senses brought it all into focus despite my aversion; the spray of blood, the stench of opened bowels, and the strains of tormented screams.

  I turned away and breathed slow and shallow, trying to get my heaving stomach under control. Torture had been the reason I'd fought with Azrael the last time. I'd had to torture a woman to get her to free Az from a magical circle she'd bound him into... and Azrael had disapproved. What he finally realized was that the torture hadn't been easy for me and seeing more of it now, even the barest glimpse, left me shaking. The irony was, I had trouble with torture because I didn't have trouble with torture.

  I know, it sounds silly, but what it came down to was this; the dragon in me was okay with it... under the right conditions. However, the human in me abhorred the thought of tormenting someone as I had been numerous times before and the non-faerie animals in me (my wolf and lioness) agreed. Animals don't understand torture. You kill to eat, you don't play with your food. Well, unless you were a killer whale... or a cat.

  Now here's where it gets really interesting. My dragon was okay with it because she was a different type of animal, more fairy than beast. However, she didn't approve of senseless torture. There had to be a reason for the pain, even if the reason was simply vengeance. Otherwise the victim was just meat and my dragon's morality became that of any other animal. You ate and were done with it. Only psychopaths wanted their meal to scream.

  Somewhere within all of that, I was trying to find a common ground, a place where I could stand and say; this is what I believe, this is my truth and this is who I am. So far, I'd been unable to find that place and that left me floundering, unsure whether to feel guilty over what I'd done or not. This however, this display of meaningless violence in Azrael's territory, made me ill for entirely different reasons.

  “Vervain?” Salem's head came down into my view. “Are you alright? Is it the angels? Come inside, come on,” he nudged me with his nose and I stumbled into the mouth of a cave.

  It wasn't a cave though. It was a house big enough for a giant. Or a dragon rather. No one thought about dragons living in human houses, that would be ridiculous, but Salem had visited Faerie with me once and we'd given him a guest room with a gigantic bed to sleep in. He'd been overjoyed. So I'd promised to have Azrael and Luke build Salem his own home with his own bed.

  It looked as if they'd delivered on my promise... big time.

  The décor was obviously Luke's doing but I saw touches of Azrael in it as well. The walls were paneled with wood and painted a jaunty jonquil. The floor was smooth stone (dragon claws wouldn't have done so well on wood) but there were massive area rugs spread across it to soften the space. The soaring ceiling was plastered pure white, with crystal chandeliers dangling from medallions to cast light over dragon-sized furniture. Yeah, furniture. I knew Salem wanted a bed but I hadn't considered that he might like a huge chair to sit in next to his elegant fireplace with its maple mantle.

  I just stood there and gawked, taking in the touches I knew were Azrael's doing. The over-sized paintings in gilded frames and the massive statues which looked like they must have adorned city fountains at one time. They were all the proper size for this giant house and I suddenly felt like a doll, waiting to be put in my miniature version of all of this.

  “Isn't it wonderful?!” Salem splayed out his upper legs as he sat back on his haunches. “I have a chair, did you see it? It's a recliner. A Lazy-Dragon.”

  “Shut up!” I gaped at the chair as he went over and plopped down into it, reaching for the handle on the side.

  He pulled the tree trunk sized lever and sure enough, the whole thing flattened out, his head going back and his tail flipping up in the air. Rust-colored velveteen cushions cradled him as he snuggled into the softness. He giggled in delight and the sound of it chased away all the horror I'd witnessed outside. A dragon's roar may be terrifying but dragon laughter is one of the sweetest sounds in the world.

  “It's wonderful!” I went further into the living room, where there were also human-sized pieces of furniture.

  “For my guests,” Salem nodded to the canary yellow sofa. “But there's more, come on.”

  He pushed the foot of the chair in and rolled off, then padded down a super-sized hallway as I chased after him. He proudly showed me his bedroom, with its beautiful bed on a slight pedestal and the “sleepy time” walls which were a soft blue-gray. Then there was his treasure room filled with his hoard (all dragons have one, don't you know?) and his bathroom with its gigantic tub and dragon toilet. I admit that blew my mind, I don't know why I hadn't thought of dragons needing a toilet. Then we went into a lovely country style kitchen with ebony beams crossing the ceiling, a thick ebony counter with an attached cupboard, and a fire pit at the far end, large enough to roast a cow.

  “You'll have to grab the human-sized cup and tea pot yourself,” he nodded towards a set of human-sized stairs set against the wall, which led to the top of the counter.

  When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw that not only was there a cup and pot waiting for me but an entire dining set with a china hutch sitting beside it. I laughed delightedly as I pulled out a beautiful porcelain teapot with blue accents, along with a matching cup, and set them on the table.

  “Put the pot here, please,” Salem tapped a spot on the counter, next to a tea cup large enough for me to bathe in. “I'll get the tea.”

  I did as he asked while Salem went to the fire pit and took a huge teapot off the fire. Holding its metal handle with two claws, he brought it over to the table and poured some tea into his cup. Then he carefully splashed out a small amount into my tea pot.

  “There's a pot holder and a tea cozy in the hutch,” he nodded to the drawer beneath the display of people-sized china.

  “I'm a dragon too, remember?” I laughed and picked up the teapot with my bare hands. “Heat don't bother me.”

  “Right,” he giggled again. “But you'll want the cozy to keep the tea warm.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I got it out of the drawer on my way back to the table. Then I poured myself a cup and sat down to sip it contentedly. This was just what I needed after that horrible fight with Azrael.

  “I'm so happy to have you here,” Salem sat back on his haunches next to the counte
r. “Luke has stopped by but he created this place so he doesn't count. I wanted you to see it since you were the one who made it all possible.”

  “It's so amazing, Salem,” I sat forward. “I'm really happy for you.”

  “Thanks, V,” he grinned. “A dragon living like a human, who would have thought?”

  “It suits you,” I looked around again. The walls in the kitchen were bare wood, stained golden brown to contrast with the dark ebony furniture and beams. It felt comfortable, like a home should. “Though I feel a little like Jack and I keep looking for a beanstalk.”

  “Well, you could always shift to dragon form,” he shrugged.

  “I could,” I grinned, “but why ruin this surreal experience? This place is like Wonderland.”

  “And the commute is pretty good too,” Salem laughed. “Plus I've got my food supply right outside.”

  “You're what?” I stopped with the cup halfway to my mouth.

  “Oh,” his mouth fell open. “I thought you knew. Those people with the angels, I get them when they're done.”

  “You get them?” I swallowed hard, not because I was disgusted but because my own dragon was suddenly hungry... which made me disgusted. Does that make any sense?

  “It's the other half of my duties,” he shrugged and took a sip of tea. “The angels torture evil men and I eat them when they're dead.”

  “But if they're here, aren't they already dead?” I frowned.

  “Oh, no,” his eyes went wide. “If they were dead, they'd be in Hell. Angels still patrol the earth, kind of like you do. When they find truly evil men... or women, let's not be sexist, they scoop them up and bring them here to torture... to... death,” his last words faltered as he looked over my face. “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine,” I reassured him. “I just didn't know. It's surprising is all. I didn't think angels interfered so much with humans.”

  “Faith can be a very compelling thing,” his lips pulled back into a dragon grimace. “People want justice. They need to know that evil will be punished and you know how gods feed on worship.”

  “Holy shit,” I whispered. “This is human sacrifice, isn't it? All this time, I'd wondered how the Christian pantheon stayed so strong without blood sacrifice. I'd wondered how prayer had generated enough magic to sustain them and I'd respected the angels for staying true to their symbiotic relationship with humans, despite the lack of blood. When all this time it's been right here, under my nose. Christians unknowingly offer these people up to the angels and the angels get to kill their own sacrifices.”

  “Not just Christians but yes,” Salem whispered. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget you're the Godhunter.”

  “But it looks as though my perfect angel never has,” I felt my face fall into grim lines.

  Azrael hadn't kept this hidden from me. I recalled his words in full now; Don't look there, it's a necessary evil but evil nonetheless. A sort of Hell where wicked people are tormented. He'd told me about the torture and I'd forgotten all about it because he never showed me. It was easy to forget a place existed if you were never taken there. So no, he hadn't lied to me about it but he hadn't told me the whole truth of the matter either. He hadn't told me the angels were taking living people as sacrifice. That the wicked people being tormented were not souls but flesh and blood humans. Living bodies that bled and died... and then became dragon kibble.

  The fight we had over my son suddenly seemed a trifling matter. This angelic evil was a betrayal and Azrael knew it. He ruled Shehaquim, which meant that anything happening within it was under his control. He had sanctioned these killings, these tortures, and now his self-righteous indignation over me torturing a woman to save him, seemed seriously hypocritical if not down right twisted. How dare he get angry at me over something I did out of love when he sanctioned the very same thing for power?

  “He is so going to get it,” I growled and fire streamed out of my nose.

  I jerked back, covering my nose with a hand so I wouldn't burn Salem's lovely table. I gave a shocked hiccup and smoke trickled out of my mouth. Dang it, being pregnant made anger both dangerous and embarrassing.

  “Um, V?” Salem asked hesitantly. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, honey,” I got up and went to sit beside the claw he'd put on his counter (aka my floor) so I could stroke his leathery skin reassuringly. “You're just doing your job and I really appreciate you telling me about the... angels.”

  “But I got Azrael in trouble, didn't I?”

  “No,” I said ominously. “Azrael did that all by himself.”

  Chapter Four

  When I got home later that day (I'd made sure to spend a few hours with Salem since I'd neglected him so long) it was with the intention of finding Azrael and ripping him a new one. But instead, I found Odin.

  He was heading into the tracing room as I was coming out and he gave me only a grunt of a greeting. I stopped, blinking in surprise, and then turned and grabbed his arm. He spun to face me and his expression was like a slap in the face.

  Odin had been physically changing, slowly looking more and more like Griffin (the man who used to own the body Odin inhabited now) and less like himself. The magic he accepted from the Norse people forced his body to look as they expected him to but now it seemed like it wasn't affecting him anymore. On top of that, his personality had been changing and he was getting more and more involved with the power that had come with Griffin's body... his witch magic. It all seemed to click in that moment, when I was standing there face to face with Griffin instead of Odin.

  “You've turned your back on the god magic, haven't you?” I accused him.

  “I haven't turned my back on anything,” he grumbled. “I'm simply more comfortable with my witch abilities.”

  “But they're not yours, Odin,” I pulled him away from the tracing room. “And where are you going? It seems like you're never around anymore.”

  “Like you'd even notice,” he harrumphed like a four-year-old.

  “Seriously?” I gaped at him. “What's going on with you? Of course I notice when you're not around. I love you. I pulled your soul out of the Void, I love you so damn much!”

  “And I bargained with the Angel of Death to have your soul put into the Well,” he growled back. “Then I gave up my eye for the knowledge to bring you back. Don't try and guilt me into being what you want. I've done more for you than you will ever do for me.”

  “Guilt?” I pulled away from him. “Being what I want? Are you insane? This isn't you. I'm not trying to make you into someone different, I'm trying to find the real you. Where is Odin?”

  “Odin's dead!” He snapped, lunging his face into mine. “He died for you and now he's tired of living for you. He's done being what everyone expects him to be. Now he's going to be someone else. He's going to be Griffin.”

  Odin turned to head back towards the tracing chamber but I grabbed his arm again. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “I don't want to be a god anymore, Vervain,” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly... his plain blue eyes. Odin's peacock colored eyes were completely gone.

  “You don't what?” I felt my own eyes widen.

  “I met someone,” he whispered. “Griffin's old girlfriend. I ran into her down in the Human Realm and she recognized me. We started talking and I just felt... I want that. I want something new; a normal life with a normal woman who I don't have to share with four other men.”

  “You're not normal,” I growled. “You're a god and even if you gave that up, you'd still be a witch... not normal.” With my last word came a stream of flame which set the carpet on fire. “Damn dragon baby hormones!” I siphoned off the heat with a wave of my hand and put out the fire.

  “I can be normal with her,” Odin's eyes went soft. “I'm sorry, Vervain,” he glanced down at my belly and then the scorched carpet. “This is too much for me. I want a woman who's all mine and a life where I can start fresh. We're over.”

  “Odin,” I called t
o him as he walked away. “I can't go through this again. I've lost you twice now.”

  “This is the last time, Vervain,” he said over his shoulder. “I promise.”

  A fire roared to life inside me, the same anger I'd experienced with Azrael, and even though I knew it was the baby affecting me, I couldn't stop it. I couldn't control my words.

  “Go then, and don't ever come back, you traitorous son of a bitch!” I shouted. “After all we've been through, this is what you do? This is how you leave? You're right, Odin's dead, because he would never treat me like this. So go ahead and leave, Griffin, I never loved you anyway. You were just a shell but now you've poisoned Odin. You've killed him. So I wish you nothing but misery in this new life, murderer. I hope you choke on every breath and stumble with every step you take because you wouldn't be taking them without me and him!”

  He flinched but he kept walking and after he was gone, I fell to the burnt floor and cried.

  Chapter Five

  The echo of voices came from above me and I knew my other men were on their way down. They must have heard the shouting. I wiped at my face and got to my feet as I looked around the entrance hall. I could just stand there and let them comfort me, let them tell me everything would be okay, but I didn't think I could handle that. Odin's betrayal, right on the heels of Azrael's, was too volatile for me to share. I was afraid I'd lash out at Trevor or Kirill and lose them too. I had to leave before I did something else too horrible to fix.

  The whir of the elevator chased me into the tracing chamber. Once I was within the confines of the little room, I traced into my home in the Human Realm. Specifically in Kaneohe, Hawaii. I didn't spend a lot of time there anymore and as soon as I looked around, I realized how much I missed it. I missed cooking in the cozy kitchen, tending my herb garden in the side yard, and painting in my art studio. Pride Palace was amazing but there was something comfortable about a small space. It felt like a hug, like my home was wrapped around me in a way that the palace never could.