Damian's Immortal (War of Gods, Book 3)

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Damian's Immortal (War of Gods, Book 3) Page 20

by Lizzy Ford


  * * *

  Jenn pounded into the punching bag. Being surrounded by vamps all day and night made her crazy with the need to kill a few. Pissing off Jonny wasn’t part of her plan, so she took her anger out on punching bags every evening. Jonny had begun disappearing in the evenings with most of the vamps, and she knew he was out hunting humans.

  She hit the punching bag harder, sweat dripping down her body and soaking her leggings and sports bra. She waited until the vamps were gone before going to the gym, not wanting to tempt any of them to attack her while she was half-naked and distracted. Jonny had given orders that no one touched her, but she’d seen firsthand how well the vamps followed the Black God’s directives. The mess in Ireland earlier made her body crawl in memory of the dangerous power.

  “Good form and energy.”

  “Leave me alone, Xander. This is me time,” she warned.

  He came into view and moved around the punching bag. He was taller than it by a head. He braced it for her, watching. She ignored him, until it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “What?” she demanded, dropping her arms.

  “You’re not fully twisting your wrist when you punch with the right hand.”

  She stared at him then shook her head and punched again. While she wanted to ignore his advice, she found herself double-checking. He was right. She punched slowly a few times until she was certain she’d corrected her punch.

  “Are you so bored you have nothing better to do?” she asked between punches.

  “You do amuse me.”

  “Great!”

  “Twist your hip more when you hit with the left.”

  She glared at him but adjusted her form. A few more punches, and she grew too uncomfortable with him to continue. Jenn lowered her hands and strode to the small collection of her things: a towel for the gym, a bottle of water, and a backpack filled with the weapons Jonny had given her when they returned a couple hours ago from Ireland. The Black God had mumbled an apology before leaving her alone to join the vamps on a hunt. She didn’t have to ask him to know he didn’t dare confront Xander about it.

  “I can’t imagine you came here to watch me beat the shit out of a punching bag,” she said and took a long swig of water. “Did you take down the door to my room this time?”

  “Brave,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed my interactions with the Guardians.”

  Curious, she paused with the water bottle halfway to her mouth then set it down and flung the towel over her shoulder. The vamp was quiet.

  “And?” she asked.

  “The Oracle didn’t tell you you’re intended for … greatness?”

  Jenn clamped her mouth shut. Sofi had said similar before Dusty almost blew up Florida. Jenn thought little of it at the time.

  “I think we’ll keep you past the thirty days, just to be sure a certain Grey God does what we want him to,” Xander continued.

  “Darian?” Jenn asked. “What does this have to do with Darian?”

  “She didn’t tell you.”

  “Who didn’t tell me what?” she demanded, approaching him and glaring up at him. “Spill it, Xander.”

  “You’re his intended.”

  Jenn frowned. “His intended what?”

  “His mate,” Xander said with his slow smile. “Powerful bargaining chip to have you here.”

  “That’s crazy, Xander. She’d never tell you that! Besides, Darian isn’t …” … my type. The words died on her lips.

  “Interesting,” he said. “The Grey God may not think the same.”

  “No, you’re wrong,” she said and snatched her things from the floor. “Darian wants nothing to do with any woman after what he’s been through.” She strode towards the door, fed up with the vamp toying with her.

  “What was the second lesson you taught Jonny? Everyone associated with your target is a weak point.”

  Jenn paused in the doorway of the gym. For the first time since he began his sick games, Jenn felt genuine fear trickle through her. She didn’t know if he’d met with the Oracle or not, but his words sounded eerily like Sofi’s, who had claimed her destiny merged with Darian’s.

  “Everyone fears something, Guardian,” Xander reminded her.

  “And you? What do you fear, Xander?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “Exactly what you fear, that what should happen, won’t.”

  She turned to look at him. She didn’t expect the Original Being to admit to fear. He manipulated the Black God like a puppet and quietly ran the vamps Jonny wasn’t yet capable of managing. He’d let her live, knowing she was obligated to report everything to Damian and powerful enough to be dismissive of any threat she might cause. The idea he feared anything amazed her. In that moment, she almost felt a human connection to the creature with the red eyes.

  “What should happen for you?” she ventured.

  “Go and rest, Guardian. You’ll need it,” he said. “And yes, I took your door.”

  Jenn bit back a retort and left, unable to shake the sense he’d told her something he didn’t mean for her to know. She strode to her room, irritated by another thought. She’d felt a connection to Darian early on, as soon as she met him, but she’d never allowed herself to dwell on it, even when he sought her out almost daily to spar.

  After her conversation with Xander, she couldn’t help wondering if there was something more that made Darian seek her out or made her willing to humor him.

 

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